12/1/15: Damn do I have some apologies to make! This chapter is too long in coming and I am so sorry. My original laptop with all of my files broke, and then life became hectic and busy and far too dramatic for the likes of me. I had so much vested in this fic and to be quite frank I forgot the majority of it. HOWEVER! I reread what I wrote, got the jist of where I was heading, and now have some new ideas! *yayyy, cheers* It's going to take a bit to get back on my feet with this, and it's going to be even harder to get back in character. You'll notice my writing style has changed somewhat as well. This chapter is more of a filler than I would like, and I do apologize for that. It is necessary however for me to dip my toes back in the metaphorical waters of fanfiction, as well as establish a few things. I had a better idea for how I had wanted to do this, but right now, this is what I have. Sorry folks. But hey, it's fairly long in respect to what I normally write (in the context that I always write in one sitting for a few hours). Give me some time to read other fanfiction, get reaquainted with characters, and thing up a field of plot bunnies. For the time being enjoy!

The rapid, repetitious sounds of Edward's footsteps, each alternating one slightly louder, was driving Sirius mad. His exasperated dark gaze trailed after Edward's tense form as he paced back and forth. He had been doing so for the past few hours, and Sirius was starting to wish for the Dementors again in lieu of this maddening pattern. Back, forth, scowl, back, forth, scowl. Fed up, Sirius stuck out a foot as the fuming blonde passed him once more. Edward tumbled forward, ducking his head and shoulders down and rolling back to his feet gracefully. Sirius blinked in surprise at the young man's lithe movements, but any inquiry he would have made was cut off by Ed's molten gold gaze and shout of indignation.

"What the hell was that for, Black?!" The blond nearly snarled, bristling with rage. Not for the first time was Sirius reminded of a feral beast, chained back by intelligence and sheer will. Sirius met Edward's furious golden stare evenly, and his mind briefly flashed back to another young man, yellow eyes full of fire and body shaking with a near wildness.

"Edward, you're wearing a hole in the floor with this. For Merlin's sake, you've been pacing all afternoon. What is going on?" Edward blinked in surprise at that, and his sharp gaze flitted to the window. Sure enough, sunset was casting its bleeding shadows across the horizon. Sirius sighed and walked over to his companion. He rested a bony, pale hand on Ed's shoulder. "Edward, talk to me."

The blonde stood tense for a moment. His brow was furrowed in deliberation. Finally, Sirius felt the muscles in Edward's shoulders loosen as he slumped over slightly, eyes weary. "I can't do this Sirius. Scheiße*!" He collapsed into one of the ornate chairs, and clenched his right hand on the armrest. The wood splintered in his grasp.

Sirius winced slightly and waved his wand. With a flick of his wand and a quickly murmured incendio, the hearth sparked into flames. The spell seemed thick, heavy, almost reluctant to leave the wand, and Sirius frowned. Again he felt a pang of longing for the wand he had used for over a decade, learning spells in Hogwarts and getting into all sorts of mischief with. It had been snapped however when they dumped him in Azkaban to rot, and he was forced to steal one upon his escape. Some part of him felt a twinge of guilt for taking another wizard's wand, something that was as ingrained a part of a wizard as his very blood, but he shook it away. He couldn't go without one, and he bloody well doubted that he would be welcomed into Diagon Alley to buy another one from Ollivander. Even if this wand didn't cooperate with his magic as well, it would simply have to suffice.

Sirius accio'd a tea pot from the kitchen, and room temperature water sloshed out as it zipped over to him. He hung it over the now-moderate flames and moved to sit by Edward. The blond didn't look up at him, his face buried in his hands. Glove fingers tangled in his blond bangs and Edward gave a slight groan of frustration.

"Can't do what, Edward?" Sirius asked gently. While Edward claimed to be twenty five, and his intellect and mannerisms certainly surpassed his apparent age, he still looked like a child physically. Not much older than Pronglet… Sirius thought with a slight pang.

Edward shook his head slightly but didn't look up. His voice was muffled as he spoke. "I can't do all of this. It's been nearly a month now, and everywhere I look is a dead end. I…" He paused for a moment and heaved a sigh. "I keep getting shut out, Sirius. Despite the ineptitude of the Wizarding World in keeping secrets—it only took a week to find the Leaky Cauldron, really, and those robes you all favor aren't exactly subtle—I can't get in. I can't find information, I can't talk to any of you, I can't do anything!" Edward suddenly stood up, eyes blazing and shoulders tense. Sirius heard the faint groan of metal as the blonde clenched his fists.

Sirius felt the Grim stir inside him, growling slightly. His dark eyes flashed. "And I'm not frustrated?" Ed's eyes snapped to his as the previously calm Sirius spoke. "I'm branded a criminal, convicted of a crime I never committed, unable to step outside lest they drag me back to that god-forsaken prison. I'm trapped here! I can't speak to any of my friends, and you can bloody well guess that they never visited a mass-murderer for a cup of tea! I can't…." His voice cracked slightly. "I can't see my godson." He shook his head slightly, and his shaggy dark hair flicked to the sides. "You're not the only one who's frustrated, Edward. But any more of that bloody pacing is going to drive me up the walls." Sirius shot the younger man a tired grin.

Edward sighed. "I'm sorry I can't help you Sirius. You know I would…" His golden gaze searched Sirius's own for a moment before he crouched by him. "Sirius Black." Sirius stiffened slightly at the Change in Edward's tone as the younger man continued. "Sirius, you've helped me in these past few weeks more than you know. You've, you've taught me, you've been my friend." Edward paused briefly, swallowing.

Sirius's mind flashed back to the past month. He felt that he hadn't so much as taught the blond as much as gave him the barest of information and watched him soar with it. He didn't know what prior education Edward had, and he doubted the boy's claims of being homeschooled. Even someone taught at home should have more prior knowledge of magic than he had. What Edward did seem to know was either seriously outdated by centuries or was incredibly specified to certain branches. Despite his paucity of general knowledge, he rapidly drank up what Sirius was able to offer, and soon that well had run dry. Proud as Sirius was to be a Gryffindor, he longed for a piece of that Ravenclaw intellect so as to have something more to give.

Edward shook him out of his recollections as he continued to speak. "Sirius, I promise you, I will do all that I can to clear your name." Sirius jerked upright, eyes wide.

"What? Edward, no, you don't—"

"Sei ruhig*, Black. You're an innocent man, a good man, and there aren't enough of those in the world. And damn what you say, I will find a way to help you." His molten gold gaze burned fiercely, and Sirius swallowed back his protests. There was a long moment of silence.

"Thank you, Edward."

Edward sat in an amiable silence disturbed only by the whisper of pages. He and Hermione had accidentally encountered each other in the library shortly after their initial encounter, and each, upon learning that the other had taken to living there as well, had solidified a habit of seeking the other out. The two would search for books together and sometimes discuss interesting finds, but most of their time together was spent in silent companionship.

Edward gritted his teeth as his searching gaze flitted over yellowed pages and faded ink. Useless, useless, utter bullshit! Any mentions of alchemy in the dusty book Edward had found were veiled in myths and legends, with no hinting at the Amestrian sciences of even the blends of magic in this world's alchemy. He closed the book carefully—useless as it was, we didn't want to damage it. His gaze flicked up to Hermione's book; she read on, oblivious to his curiosity. Spellman's Syllabary was scrawled across the cover in an elegant gold script, but that wasn't what had caught his interest—no, not at all.

What had caused Edward to still were the shifting, shimmering runes that flowed across the cover.

Quietly he stood, and walked around the table they shared. The brunette was too engrossed in her studies to notice Edward peering over her shoulder. Two sets of eyes, one warm brown, the other deep gold, drank in the printed words.

'Order has as great an effect on rune usage as the actual runes themselves. Depending upon the order runes are paired in, the outcome can change radically. Looking back at the Nordic runes, we can use jera, meaning year/harvest, and naupiz, meaning need/hardship. In this case, a wizard or witch wants to carve runes into posts around his crops. If naupiz were to be paired in front of jera, then the meanings of the runes would be a poor harvest and much hardship. In contrast, if naupiz was placed after jera, it would mean a good year and harvest to fill the needs and hardships of the people. Simply knowing and memorizing the meanings behind the runes is not enough. If the wizard of witch was not careful, they could act in complete opposition to their intent.' *

This was a lesson that Edward had learned himself at a young age. Back when he was younger, when he still needed to draw transmutation circles, he had made the mistake of disregarding order. Thinking himself a little genius (which he still did, but hey, he was the youngest State Alchemist every; it was a deserved pride), he had tried to boil water via alchemy. Instead, he had vaporized it in a scalding cloud of steam and blown up the damn pot. Edward had put the runes for heat directly next to energy as opposed to having it separated by that for hydrogen, oxygen, and state of matter. It was an important lesson to learn, and he supposed it was better to learn it at the age of six with his mother nearby to clean up the mess than under Izumi, who would have skinned him alive for his stupidity.

The question was, why did Hermione need to?

Edward leaned over her shoulder more, perhaps a touch too close, as his blond braid swung loose from his shoulder and lightly brushed against her cheek. Hermione jolted upright in shock, slamming the book shut and flinging her body away from Ed's. Edward gave a yelp of surprise but easily maintained his balance; Hermione fell off of her chair. Her dark curls hung around her head in a wispy, dark halo, and her face was flushed in indignation and–fear?

"What the bloody hell were you doing, Edward?!" Hermione's voice was a hoarse whisper, cracking slightly on the verge of a shout. Ed could see the betrayed anger in her fierce gaze, and he knew she only restrained herself because they were in a library. The blond was at a loss for a moment, unsure of what to reply with, until he squared his shoulders and blurted out:

"Are you a witch?"

So I needed a way for Ed to learn Hermione is a witch, and I also needed a convenient time-skip so he could learn some magic. Keep in mind that he has been in this universe before and knows some already; however, as Sirius said, what Ed knew was from centuries ago back when he first visited. And no spoilers as to how he learned any, but what he did was very specialized in the context of how he learned. He has background knowledge of magic though, as well as some basic skills. Now, at this point in the story, he knows whatever Sirius could remember after spending years in Azkaban. Ed learned with the wand Sirius stole. I figured there's no way Sirius would be able to get his original wand back so he stole his. You'll find out from whom later ;) It's a bit choppy at the moment, and this might classify as a filler just to put the pieces where I need them. Oh whale!

Scheiße: shit

Sei ruhig: Shut up

Spellman's Syllabary: Hermione's third year Ancient Runes textbook

That paragraph on Nordic Runes and the importance of order is all me. The runes themselves are real, though I can't actually type them here, only their names. But the ideas in that? ME! I thought it would be logical though, since the order of words in a sentence completely alters its meaning.

Listen, the reviews you've all left me mean more than you know. Thanks for not giving up folks!