Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Rehabilitation ❯ Lessons to Be Learned ( Chapter 7 )

AN: I am terribly sorry for the delay with this chapter! Despite popular belief, I have not been holding it for ransom. I’ve had it planned out since before I finished Chapter Six, but I just haven’t been able to write it. I’ve also been extremely busy. This is my senior year, and I’ve and a ton of work to do including my Senior Project- mixed with a bad case of writer’s block, might I add. As such, I hope you all can forgive me for the terribly long wait for this update.

Anyway, I’m very sorry for the long wait! Here’s Chapter Seven.

Standard Disclaimer: Sugarpony does not own Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter.

---

Rehabilitation

Chapter Seven

Lessons to Be Learned

---

Monday morning came as a surprise for all of Hogwarts. As Professor McGonagall’s third year Transfiguration class filed into the classroom, each student was shocked upon entry by none other than Major Edward Elric, who was seated at one of the back desks, an escort on either side of him. An unspoken questions passed through each of their minds: What in the name of Merlin was the mysterious blond alchemist who had spent the entirety of the past week avoiding the students doing sitting in on a lesson?

Professor McGonagall said nothing as she strode inside, merely casting a curious glance in their direction. “Settle down, class,” she said as she moved behind her desk. With a wave of her wand and a muttered spell of “Accio hedgehogs,” she Summoned a box full of small, quilled animals into her awaiting arms. The professor then proceeded to pass one of the creatures to each student, explaining the lesson.

“Today we will continue practicing animal Transfiguration.” She spoke in a calm, practiced voice, well accustomed to the ongoing chore of getting her students to focus on the task at hand. “You will be putting our last lesson into practical use, transforming your hedgehog into a pincushion. Get to work.”

Her students now busy with their meager wand waving, McGonagall took a moment to observe her guests. On Elric’s right sat Lieutenant Havoc lazily glancing around the room, his ever-present smoking cigarette beginning to irritate her nose. On the boy’s left sat Major Armstrong, towering over the others even though he was cramped in a seat meant for someone half his size, carefully watching all possible entrances into the room, a few of which only McGonagall herself and a few... select... students knew. Elric himself, however, was the embodiment of a rain cloud waiting to burst over a busy city. He sat hunched over the desk with his head downcast, his bangs covering his face (Although she was absolutely certain that he was observing everything around him.) and adding to his dark expression. His fists were clenched on top of the desk, wearing what the woman was sure would become permanent wrinkles in his gloves. After several moments of wondering what could be bothering the boy, Professor McGonagall looked towards one of her students as he let out a cry of happiness, a pincushion lying before him.

At that exact moment, Edward Elric violently stood from his chair and began to yell.

“What the hell are you teaching these children, damn it?!” McGonagall’s head snapped in the direction of the young alchemist, her lips thinning. She could see a fire blazing in his eyes. “Change it back!”

The poor student was quivering in his robes, sending worried glances to his professor. “But... but I don’t know how to...”

“You don’t mess with living creatures, damn it! You don’t go against the natural laws!”

McGonagall’s nostrils flared and her eyes sharpened as she defended her student. “Major Elric, I can assure you that the process is completely reversible. Have no fear, each and every one of the pincushions will be turned back into hedgehogs at the end of the class. Now, I would appreciate it if you would sit down.” The professor looked to his escorts for support. Havoc was sprawled out on the floor, trying to become invisible. Armstrong was standing beside Edward, a calming hand on his shoulder-- which had absolutely no effect other than holding him in place because, in his haste, he had placed in on Ed’s right shoulder.

Seeing his words had little effect on the magical folk in the room, Edward huffed, spun on his heel, and stomped toward the door. He paused before he left the room, however, speaking over his shoulder in a voice barely above a whisper. “A word to the wise: Don’t fuck around with nature. It only gets people killed or screwed over for life.”

Professor Minerva McGonagall watched as his two escorts followed their charge after a hasty apology and turned back to her class, unnerved by the young soldier’s words.

---

In truth, he had been bored. Ed was tired of doing nothing but avoiding people and moping all day, and he wanted to do something productive. He was also curious about what this magic could offer him-- maybe it could help him fulfill his quest of catching Scar. If so, enduring all the stares and whisperings would be well worthwhile.

He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

He had be absolutely abhorred at the complete lack of respect for animals that these wizards and witches showed. Honestly, who goes around turning a hedgehog into a pincushion? What’s the point?

More importantly, the lesson had reminded him of Nina.

Transfiguration as a whole had him vexed. How is it possible to get without giving? Or to change a metal goblet into a wooded desk? Where was the equivalency? As a scientist and an alchemist, Edward simply could not accept this particular form of magic. Using animals as a starting point was morally wrong. It would be taking away the life of something for sake of vanity!

Ed tromped through the hallways, Armstrong and Havoc in tow. There had to be some class around here that made sense.

---

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest of their Defense Against the Dark Arts class were, once again, attempting (and mostly failing) to jinx one another without shouting the spells-- although Harry was almost ready to start cursing Snape due to the fact that he was, once again, pointing out that he had yet to cast a single spell silently. He was just about to lose his temper when a distraction came in the form of Major Elric and his entourage.

The short blond threw the door open, letting it bang against the wall. All of the students stopped their futile attempts at practicing, wanting to see how their professor would react to this new interruption.

Snape sneered, putting his patented glare on his face. He met the military men halfway across the room, ready to pounce like one of Hagrid’s pets on a bad day. He spared several seconds to use his glare of utmost loathing usually reserved for Harry (who, quite understandably, backed away in terror) before addressing the group as a whole. “Is there something I can do for you, Sirs?” he asked sarcastically.

Edward looked the man straight in the eye, not the least bit intimidated. “Piss off, bat breath.”

The entire room was deadly silent. Snape looked taken aback for a moment before bending low to look the alchemist in the eye.

“I beg your pardon, pip-squeak?”

A dark look crossed Ed’s face, and the two men behind him paled and mirrored the panic on the faces of Snape’s students.

Harry very suddenly feared for his life.

Major Armstrong was barely able to grab Ed by the arms and hold him back before he attempted to-- for all intensive purposes-- murder Professor Snape.

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING A GRAIN OF RICE SO SMALL IT WOULDN’T EVEN FEED AN AMOEBA?!”

---

Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang, dutifully patrolling the corridors near the batty Divination teacher’s tower, smirked. He turned to his partner, First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye.

“Good to know Fullmetal’s getting back to his old self.”

---

Edward heaved deep breathes after abandoning his flailing, hanging limp in Armstrong’s strong arms. Ninety percent certain, that his charge would make no more attempts at running through the professor with his trademark short blade, he gently set him on his feet and let go.

He should have held onto him.

Ed charged like a bull seeing red, clapping his hands and slamming them onto the floor. Snape had no time to react as a stone hand arose from the floor, enclosing him in its fist as it knocked his wand out of his hand in the process. The boy then stormed out of the room, red coat billowing behind him (very effectively imitating Snape’s robes), Armstrong and Havoc following.

Nobody moved. After several painful minutes, a voice was heard.

“Does this mean class is over?”

“GET OUT!”

---

Lunchtime eventually came and passed, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were once on their way to the library to continue researching alchemy. Rumors had once more circulated the castle, and lunch had been filled with whisperings of Major Elric’s exploits once again. Unsurprisingly, this mysterious alchemist was the trio’s conversational topic. “You know,” Hermione said, “it really wasn’t very wise for Major Elric to attack Professor Snape like that.”

Ron snorted. “Oh, come on, Hermione! He was bloody brilliant! He got us out of class, and Snape was stuck in that stone until Colonel Mustang was able to set him straight!” He sighed contentedly. “You know, this can rival Malfoy the Amazing Bouncing Ferret.”

Harry frowned. “Hermione’s right,” he said. “Did you see Snape’s face at lunch? Major Elric’s made enemies with every Slytherin in the castle in one morning.”

They abruptly cut off their conversation as they entered the library, not wanting to be thrown out by Madame Pince before they had actually done any work. They headed to their usual table, pulled out the tome on alchemy, and continued in hushed voices. “Did you hear about what he did in McGonagall’s class?” Ron asked. “He threw a right little conniption! Scared the bloody hell out of the poor little third years.”

Hermione, consumed in the book, brushed him off. “It’s understandable, really,” she whispered. She then pointed to a specific passage. “Look here: ‘One of the most depraved forms of alchemy is the art of creating chimeras, combining two or more living animals. The most famous chimera is the one produced by Shao Tucker, the Sewing Life Alchemist, which could speak the human language. Tucker was later executed for-’ ” Here she stopped, paling, before continuing in a trembling voice. “ ‘Tucker was later executed for creating a second chimera able to speak the human language by combining his pet dog and his six-year-old daughter. It was also revealed that his first chimera had been created by Tucker transmuting his wife.’ ”

The group looked up, sharing a horrified look. None of them noticed that none other than Edward Elric had come to stand behind them, sadness radiating from his countenance. They were surprised out of their stupor by his voice. “You wizards can do so much with your magic that you don’t think twice about transfiguring a living creature.” The students spun around, almost ashamed of what they had been caught reading. “You completely ignore the fact that you’re taking away the life of something, all because you can restore it to its original form. No one ever has the right to decide if something should live or die, no matter the circumstances.”

He reached to the table, picking up and shutting the book with one hand. He sighed and closed his eyes wearily. “Alchemy is completely different from magic. It’s based completely on science, and it follows the laws of nature. We alchemists may be the closest things to gods that my world has, but we can’t create life in any form. Your world goes against all laws of nature, and it completely ignores the scientific fact of equivalent exchange.”

Ed opened his eyes, and they took on a faraway look. It was obvious to Harry and his friends that he was no longer talking to them, merely thinking aloud. “This magic... It goes against everything I’ve ever known! There must be equivalency somewhere! If not... then what have we been punished for?”

The blond boy suddenly started, realizing that he was not alone. He gave a small smile and chuckled embarrassedly, shuffling awkwardly. “Never mind,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to keep this book. You don’t need to be looking into such things without proper instruction.” He was completely solemn now, any trace of laughter of anxiousness wiped away. “If you can’t understand equivalency, there’s no point in attempting alchemy. Transmuting living creatures is irreversible. If you try something too advanced thinking it’s similar to your magic, you’ll only get hurt. Things are forbidden for a reason.”

The three sat there, not knowing what to say. The alchemist had moved on to a shelf containing books on magical theory, and a few moments later Lieutenant Colonel Hughes and First Lieutenant Hawkeye rushed past the students, the woman muttering about being held up by “obsessive fathers and their pictures.”

---

Colonel Roy Mustang smirked contentedly as he walked through the corridors. He had recently finished his ‘chat’ with none other than Professor Severus Snape, which had proven to be quite entertaining. None of the teachers had wanted to risk hurting the dark man with shoddy spellwork, so the job of rescuing him had fallen to the only alchemist available (for Armstrong had been guarding Ed, and Fullmetal would have been more likely to slit the professor’s throat than to release him from his stone prison). Once he had been freed, the... what was that phrase?... “greasy git” had vented his frustrations upon his savior, who had been more than willing to oblige him with a fiery game of cat and mouse.

Yes, that had been a very interesting morning.

Now, he was on his way to the headmaster’s office to offer the elderly man a proposition. He came upon the stone gargoyles guarding the entrance to his quarters and, speaking the password, ascended the winding staircase. Before he could even knock on the door, a voice from within spoke “Enter,” and Mustang strolled leisurely into the circular room.

As always, the shining silver instruments strewn about on tables softly whirred and puffed smoke, and the many portraits of the previous headmasters adorning the walls whispered to one another inconspicuously. Mustang gave his normal salute to the professor, who was sitting behind his desk, relaxing once the man had giving him a nod.

“Please, have a seat, Roy,” Dumbledore offered, gesturing to a cushioned chair opposite his. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

The colonel sat, businesslike as usual, and allowed himself a smile. “I have a proposal for you,” he said. At the headmaster’s silence and curious glance, he continued. “As you know, all State Alchemists must continually practice alchemy in some form, whether it be used on a mission or through experiments. Now that Fullmetal has regained his limbs and ability to use his alchemy, he must be given some task with which to busy himself.

“Of course, with a murderer on the loose, we must continue to impose upon your gracious hospitality until we are ordered otherwise. Because of this, I humbly ask you a request. Allow us to set up an Alchemy Club for you students, which Fullmetal will teach. This seems to be the best option as it may be temporary (for we never know when we must leave), and it will also allow your students to gain some extra knowledge.”

Dumbledore beamed at his young friend. “Why, that sounds like a wonderful idea! We absolutely must begin sorting out the details right away.

“Lemon drop?”

---

First Lieutenant Hawkeye suppressed an impatient sigh as Edward tossed aside another book. Her young charge had been skimming through every book on which he could lay his hands for the past hour, yet he apparently had not found that for which he was searching. She glanced at her partner, who had elected to adore his photographs throughout the monotony, and found that even he was becoming bored. Still, they had a job to do, and Riza would make sure that they fulfilled it.

Yet another book was discarded, and Hughes groaned. “Haven’t you found what you need yet?” he asked, but he was only rewarded by the next apparently useless book being thrown in his face instead of the growing pile. The dark-haired man grumbled, obviously bypassing boredom and allowing irritation to settle in its place. “You know,” he said, “if you tell me what you’re looking for, I can help you. I’m not in the Department of Investigations for nothing, after all.” Once again, he was muffled by a book to the face, this one a particularly thick volume.

Hearing the repeated thumps, the librarian Madame Pince twitched noticeably. She dared not charge to the table, yell at the alchemist, and throw him out of the library as she would with a student, for she had attempted it after the first ten minutes and received nothing more than an aggravated stare and a note from Professor Dumbledore giving the boy unrestricted access to the vast number of books. Riza had begun entertaining herself by guessing how much longer it would be until the woman lost control of herself and threw a fit.

Another book thumped in addition to the others, and she twitched again. A tick was beginning to develop above her left eye. As one more thump sounded and her head snapped up, presumably to have a conniption similar to Edward’s “I’m not short” arguments, the door to the library banged open, returning her senses to her and saving her from possible mortification.

The dark-haired man (smirking as usual) crossed the room to where his subordinates were half-hidden by the countless books. He dismissed Hughes, narrowly avoiding his pictures, before turning to Ed. “Fullmetal,” he said, and even though he did not move, Mustang knew that he had the boy’s attention. “I need to tear you away from your research for a short while in order for all of us to meet with the headmaster.”

Although he twitched at the word short, Edward kept his temper and instead focused on more important matters. “What,” he asked, frowning, “do we need to meet with him about, Colonel? I thought we had all the details of this stay worked out already.”

The smirk never left Mustang’s face. He nodded, confirming the blond’s beliefs. “Yes, but we need to make arrangements for you to continue practicing alchemy. After all, we can’t have The Great Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric lose his touch, now can we?”

Ed looked up from the books for the first time in the past hour. “What do you want me to do, Colonel? I can’t exactly go on any missions inside the grounds.”

If possible, the glint in Mustang’s eye grew. “Oh, nothing much,” he said casually. “All you have to do is head an alchemy club for the students.”

For several tense seconds, Edward said nothing. When he finally spoke, it was in a small, strained voice. “Why, exactly,” he asked, “would you have me do that? These children are already starting to research how to misuse alchemy. If I teach them, they would start to put it to use! These wizards don’t understand equivalency.”

The colonel sobered, serious for once in his career. “That is exactly why you need to teach them, Ed.” At the boy’s questioning gaze, he elaborated. “You need to make them understand. You need to make certain that they know the consequences of misusing alchemy. What’s to say that they won’t attempt it without proper instruction? If you teach them, at least you can help prevent it from happening.”

The young alchemist sat in silence, considering his superior’s words. As much as he hated to admit it, they did make a lot of sense. If he could stop even one student from repeating his mistakes, wouldn’t it all be worth it?

What would Al do?

He mentally admonished himself. That’s a stupid question. Al would want me to teach them. He would have loved it here; there are so many people our age, and he wouldn’t be shunned for being trapped in that armor of his. He would want to share our knowledge with them...

“It isn’t really like a have a choice, is it?” He sighed. “All right, then. I’ll... teach... these kids. But if any one of them tries to do something stupid, I’ll have nothing to do with the idiot.”

Mustang chuckled at Ed’s aggressiveness. “Alright, Ed. But you know, you really shouldn’t be calling them kids; after all, some of them are older than you, and even the first years are taller than you...”

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING A BEAN THAT’S SO SMALL IT WOULD BE OVERLOOKED BY AN ANT?!”

Mustang chucked. “I never said that, Ed,” he said, but inwardly he beamed at the boy’s responsiveness to his height. After all, he thought, he may mope all the time, but it’s still one more step on the road to recovery.

Quickly, he shuffled the fuming alchemist out the door, Hawkeye in hot pursuit, before the librarian could spell his mouth shut.

---

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat confusedly with their fellow Gryffindors, the entire Great Hall filled with whispers. Dinner had yet to be sent up to the tables from the kitchen, Dumbledore had not appeared, and half of the Amestris entourage was suspiciously missing. After the meal had been delayed for half an hour, even the professors were looking anxious, and Hermione had needed to slap Ron away from gnawing on his cutlery three times. Finally, the doors to the Entrance Hall opened, and Dumbledore, Major Elric, Colonel Mustang, and Lieutenant Hawkeye all strode into the Hall, and all but the headmaster seated themselves at the Head Table.

Professor Dumbledore remained standing, blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles, beaming at the half-starved students. “I apologize for the delay in your nightly meal,” he began, “and I am afraid to say that I must detain you from your food for a few moments longer. As you all know, Major Elric, Major Armstrong, and Lieutenant Colonel Mustang are all alchemists.

“What you do not know, however,” he continued, his smile beginning to irk most of the school, “is that Major Elric has graciously accepted an offer to teach an Alchemy Club.” Here, the Hall once again filled with excited murmurs, and Dumbledore needed to wait for them to become subdued before he could finish speaking. “Because we do not know how long Major Elric will be with us, this club will only be temporary. I am also sorry to say that only those students who have passed their O.W.L.s in Transfigurations, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts will be permitted to join this club because alchemy can be very dangerous if improperly attempted.” He paused, giving the students a long, hard stare to emphasize the importance of his statement. “However, for those of you interested (and eligible), sign-up sheets will be posted in your house Common Rooms. The first meeting of the club will be held in the Great Hall this Thursday at seven o’ clock sharp.

“Now, tuck in!”

Everyone in the Hall eagerly began eating the food which magically appeared before them, although much discussion abound between bites. After all, when would they ever again get the chance to learn the lost art of Alchemy? After hearing of Professor Snape’s encounter with the subject, few did not wish to learn of it.

Ron paused briefly in the middle of eating his stuffed turkey. “It was a good idea to limit who could join, don’t you reckon,” he asked almost absentmindedly.

Hermione nodded. “What with all we’ve read about, I’m not one bit surprised. Although,” she muttered, “I wonder why Potions could be so important?”

“Probably because it’s the closest thing to a science we’ve got,” Harry concluded. “At least the club won’t be very crowded because of the restrictions.”

“Yeah. Ha!” Ron laughed. “We lucked out! Crabbe and Goyle won’t be able to join!”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “but Malfoy will. Let’s just hope this doesn’t turn out as badly as Dueling Club did.”

Hermione scoffed. “Of course it won’t,” she exclaimed. “Professor Lockhart was a big phony! Major Elric is a State Alchemist. There’s a bit of a difference, don’t you think?”

Harry nodded, and the three immediately placed their names on top of the list to join after dinner.

---

While the many students tried to sleep through their anticipation, Edward Elric tirelessly planned his first lesson. He had already decided to not show them any transmutation circles but instead see the students’ abilities at drawing regular circles. He had no doubt that many of them would leave after the first meeting, all plans of ever attempting alchemy lost. He would make them understand beyond a shadow of a doubt that alchemy was not an inborn ability like magic but took many years of practice and dedication to master. Most importantly, he would teach them the principle of equivalent exchange.

In order to obtain, something of equal value must first be sacrificed. This is the law of equivalent exchange.

Chalk had already been gathered from the storerooms in the castle, and the castle walls would provide his blackboard. Of course, an even slightly skilled alchemist could work with almost any surface, but these children had no experience whatsoever. There would be no need for books, for anything they would need to know would be handled by Edward personally-- especially the laws concerning illegal transmutations. As long as they took notes, they would be fine.

Despite the fact that everything was ready, Ed could not help being nervous about his little club. The only person he had ever taught was Alphonse, and even then his younger brother had understood mostly everything without him. It would be different, being in command of a group of teenagers, some even older than he. It would be challenging, but it needed to be done; if the Fullmetal Alchemist lost his State certification, how would catch Scar?

Sighing, Edward massaged his temples and concentrated on his work.

---

AN: You have absolutely no idea how difficult that was for me to write. The format must have changed at least five times before I finished. Not to mention the fact that I kept giggling whenever I tried to write the Snape scene...

Anyway, the story will be reaching its climax very soon now. I should hopefully be able to work on it over my winter holidays, which begin next Saturday. Please drop a review on your way out. Until next time,

-Sugarpony