Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Rehabilitation ❯ A Helping Hand ( Chapter 8 )

AN: Kyaa! I did it again! Gomen nasai! I have been extremely preoccupied with Tennis no Ohjisama... It... totally... rocks. I offer you my sincerest apologies. At least you needn’t have waited five months again!

If any of you are readers of Equivalent Exchange, all I have to say is this. The Alphonse/ Alphons scene is being. A. Pain. In. The. Mikta. Hopefully I’ll be hit with a brain wave once I re-watch CoS.

I’m sorry to announce to all of those who were hoping for a miracle that Aru really is dead and not coming back... Or is he? What can Sugarpony mean by this? You’ll see...

Standard Disclaimer: Sugarpony does not own Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter. They belong to the great Hiromu Arakawa-sama and J. K. Rowling.

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Rehabilitation

Chapter Eight

A Helping Hand

---

For the students in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Thursday evening could not come quickly enough. Although only a select few were able to join the Alchemy Club, everyone else in the castle was eager to hear about the lessons taught by the mysterious Fullmetal Alchemist. Edward himself, however, was dreading the occasion. He had spent all week locked in the Room of Requirement, hoping for escape from the many rumors which flew through the halls like the many owls that delivered the daily mail. He had prepared for the event to the best of his abilities, but he held little faith for the students’ abilities. Truly, he doubted that a single one of them would be able to perform a simple transmutation and had decided to award anyone with this talent fifty house points; he had been given the same authority as the professors of the school for the duration of the lessons, and he was allowed to appeal for the expulsion of any student who attempted to break any of the most sacred laws of alchemy. At the moment, he was compiling a list of rules to be followed that evening under threat of detention and a serious loss of house points, the first of which was “Do not break any rules.” Thus far, he had written more than thirty, and he paused to reread them.

“Do not question or contradict me.”

“Do not disrespect me in any way.”

“Do everything I say when I say it.”

“Do not listen to Mustang.”

Edward smirked as he thought of the Colonel’s expression when he had read that one. He had been standing directly behind him, a bored expression on his face, and he was reading the list over Ed’s shoulder. It had been grating on his nerves, and he eventually dedicated an entire section to his superior to express his agitation.

“Insult Mustang at every opportunity.”

“Make crude references to Mustang’s obsession with dogs.”

“Repeatedly ask Mustang about his paperwork while in the presence of Hawkeye.”

“Do not refer to Mustang as anything other than Useless in the Rain.”

Of course, not all of the rules were for his entertainment. Most of them had justifiable reasons for their existence and were a testament to how much the boy was fearing the misuse of his teachings.

“Never attempt Human Transmutation.”

“Never attempt Animal Transmutation.”

“Never attempt to transmute gold.”

“Never attempt to transmute without fully understanding the equivalence in the equations.”

It was an unanimous agreement, however, by all except Mustang, to include a very special rule.

“NEVER under ANY circumstance imply that I am SHORT.”

After reviewing the extensive list and mentally declaring it sufficient, Edward set down his pen-- He absolutely refused to use quills and ink-- and relaxed in his cushioned chair. Despite all appearances, he was actually rather grateful to the fact that preparing for the Alchemy Club had been keeping him constantly busy; it left him little time to dwell on depressing thoughts. Now that he had finished, however, they all came rushing to him like flowing water released from a dam.

Alphonse...

The alchemist’s face lost its critical, analyzing appearance as his focus shifted to his brother. Even though he had been searching the school’s library at every available opportunity, Edward had been unable to find anything that would help him locate and capture Scar. He refused to kill the man, that much was definite-- Alphonse would hate him for it-- so poison was out of the question. While the books on Potions had been the most helpful, as it required absolutely no magical skill to brew a simple concoction, nothing short of a truth potion, Veritaserum, would help him find the Isvaran, and even that had its limitations; a person could not be truthful about something of which he did not know. A locator spell would be useful, but for that he would need the assistance of a wizard, and simply would not allow these magicians to become involved in his personal affairs. That would not do at all.

He had been reluctant to inform even Mustang of his plans, but it had been a necessity. The boy had officially given up on the Philosopher’s Stone, for he had no use for it now. He could survive with automail, perhaps better than he could without it. As such, there was no more obvious reason for him to stay in the military, as Winry had been quick to point out. Indeed, she had begged him to turn in his watch and return to Resembool to live with her and Pinako. When Mustang had asked him about his plans for the future and recommended resigning for his enlistment, Edward had reluctantly realized that he had needed to tell the man of the situation. He had also realized that the colonel would be of use to him, for he would be able to give him information of Scar’s whereabouts. He was not blind, though, nor was he stupid; he knew that Mustang would keep information from him until there was no danger if the boy investigated it, but even so, he would be able to receive perhaps a tip off from someone who had seen the murderer and follow it.

Edward knew that Alphonse would not want him to chase Scar, but he did his best to ignore this fact. Catching the man would be the only way for him to find peace of mind, he had decided. Everyone around him had pounded into his brain the fact that he was not responsible for his brother’s death, but that did not stop unwarranted guilt from creeping into his mind when he relaxed and tried to accept that fact that he would never again hear his brother’s voice nor feel his comforting presence. It would be dangerous, but it needed to be done.

These thoughts churned through his brain for hours as he once again returned the library in hopes of finding aid for his quest until, at last, the hour of his debut as a teacher had arrived.

---

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood with their peers congregated in the Entrance Hall as they waited for the doors to the Great Hall to open. They had been the first Gryffindors to sign up for the alchemy lessons and had anticipated this day all week, imagining all sorts of things that might occur. When they had arrived early, however, they had been surprised the find the passage between the two rooms sealed shut with nary a crack or crevice. Even Hermione had been unable to break whatever spell-- Or was it alchemy?-- that had caused it.

Five other Gryffindors had greeted them enthusiastically after they had assessed the situation: Katie Bell, Chaser and last remaining member of Harry’s original Quidditch team; Cormac McLaggen, a seventh year Harry had been unfortunate enough to meet on the Hogwarts Express; and three other seventh years they did not know. Nine Ravenclaws were also there, as were three Hufflepuffs and six Slytherins including, much to the trio’s dismay, Draco Malfoy, who had immediately begun insulting his rival house. Fortunately, shortly after the blond’s arrival, a bright blue light emanated from the doors as the (assumedly) magically swung open.

The lucky students hesitantly walked inside of the Great Hall only to pause and stare at their surroundings. Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye were standing guard at either of the two doors in the large room. The tables and benches all had been cleared away in favor of a small work table and a cardboard box. Although the ceiling was reflecting the evening sky as always, the walls and floor were now a dark shade of green and the consistency of the chalkboards in the classrooms. Bright white writing covered nearly every available space on the walls, while the floor was naked of any markings. A large diagram Harry recognized as the periodic table of elements was pictured on the far wall, and written above it were three simple sentences. “To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. One cannot receive without first giving something in return. This is the Law of Equivalent Exchange.” Standing directly in front of the wall was Major Edward Elric, and the students’ attention was torn away from the walls as he spoke.

“Welcome to Alchemy Club. To your left is a list of rules I expect you to follow both during and outside of club hours. I have been given the same privileges as any of your professors, and if you break a rule you will be harshly punished. These rules are in place for the safety of both you and the rest of the school.” He paused, giving each and every one of them a piercing stare with his bright golden eyes. “Do I make myself clear?”

The students all gave their assent, and he continued.

“I don’t expect any of you to be able to successfully use alchemy. You are all spoiled and unused to the harsh way of the world that it reflects. I do, however, expect each and every one of you to make a heartfelt attempt to understand it, because I want all of you to realize that your world of magic is a place full of fluff. Those without magic follow a completely different set of rules, and we are thoroughly punished if we try to break them. If you learn nothing else, you will learn appreciation for your magic and respect of those to whom you refer as ‘Muggles.’ ”

Malfoy snorted. “Why the hell would I ever respect Muggles? If you ask me, everything you’re saying is utter rubbish.”

“Is that so?”

All eyes were drawn to the long-haired blond as he quietly walked forward to the boy. “Fifty points from Slytherin, Malfoy.”

The other blond positively exploded. “What? ! That’s ridiculous!”

“You broke rules one and two of this class.” The heads swerved back and forth between the boys as if following a heated tennis rally. “Do not question or contradict me and do not disrespect me. If you feel my lessons are unworthy of your attention, leave. I don’t need your bad-ass attitude, and I don’t take shit from anybody.”

Despite his earlier comments, Malfoy made no move to leave. It seemed that he was as eager as any to learn the mysterious, powerful art of alchemy. Instead, he clenched his fists and quietly seethed, anger and defiance in his countenance. Satisfied, Elric continued with his lecture.

“In order to understand alchemy, you must first forget everything you know about magic. If you attempt to mix the two it will have disastrous results. Alchemy is based on precise scientific principles, the most important of which is the Law of Equivalent Exchange; magic has no rhyme or reason to it, and although aspects of it may appear to be similar to alchemy, they don’t even come close to it.

“ ‘To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. One cannot receive without first giving something in return. This is the Law of Equivalent Exchange.’ ” He paused, allowing this concept to be absorbed by their minds, before heading to the table of elements. “Even if you change the shape or appearance of an object, it must have the same materials as it did before the transmutation. You cannot begin with wood and end with steel. You cannot turn five kilograms of copper into ten kilograms of copper. You must follow the Law of the Conservation of Mass: ‘Mass can be neither created nor destroyed.’ ” The alchemist gestured to the chart behind him. “In this table are the symbols and atomic structure of all known elements. They cannot be changed except with extreme skill.”

At this point, Ron spoke hesitantly. “So then, Sir, the myth about alchemy being able to turn lead into gold isn’t true?”

Edward examined the redhead before answering. “Not exactly. It is possible to alter the structure of an element, but it is highly dangerous. Turning lead into gold would require a transmutation of a subatomic level which, if performed incorrectly, can lead to highly dangerous, explosive results. It is for this reason that transmuting gold is illegal.”

A Ravenclaw then bravely raised another question. “There are restrictions on transmutations, then?”

The alchemist gave her an appreciative nod. “Alchemy has rules just like any other part of society. As I said, transmuting gold is highly illegal. Also banned are Animal Transmutation and Human Transmutation. Attempting any of these will land you in prison for the rest of your life, best case scenario. Worst case scenario, you die.”

“You can use alchemy on living things?”

Edward gave a harsh glare to Ernie Macmillan before responding in harsh voice. “Yes, it is possible to transmute living creatures. Combining two or more animals is called the art of creating chimeras, or Animal Transmutation. It is a depraved form of alchemy, because once something living is transmuted, it cannot be returned to its original form.”

Ernie looked abashed and a bit disturbed as he muttered a hasty “Sorry.” McLaggen, on the other hand, raised another question.

“What about Human Transmutation? What’s that?”

The short blond froze, and out of the corner of his eye Harry could see both Mustang and Hawkeye with a resolute look on their faces. The boy’s reply was whispered, but no one had any trouble understanding him.

“Human Transmutation is the art of bringing the dead back to life. It is illegal because it doesn’t work; there is almost no record of an alchemist who survived the transmutation, and what is created isn’t human. I don’t care what your reasons are; none of you is to ever even consider performing a human transmutation, and you will never speak of it again after tonight. Before the topic is dead, does anyone have any more questions about it?”

Malfoy was the only one who dared to speak, for he had picked up on something important the boy’s speech. “Sir,” he began, a bit sarcastically, “you said that almost no one has ever survived it. What happened to whoever did?”

Before he could blink Mustang had crossed the room and was standing directly behind him, giving him a firm gaze. “That is classified information. You have no need to know the details of the people foolish enough to attempt the impossible.” Even though it was said with conviction, those listening close enough could detect a sorrow and sympathy in his voice, and an apologetic look crossed his face for a split second. It would have been missed if one had not been looking for it.

The other alchemist collected himself and resumed his lecture once again. “Alchemy is the process of changing the form or state of an object. There are three steps in this procedure: Analysis, Deconstruction, and Reconstruction. The first step, Analysis, is examining the materials you wish to transmute and understanding its physical and chemical make-up. The second step, Deconstruction, in breaking the bonds between the molecules in order to reform them. The final step, Reconstruction, it putting the molecules back together in a different order.

“Written on the walls around you are the equations used in several different transmutations, both simple and complex. The most important part of any transmutation is the transmutation circle. The transmutation circle condenses and combines all of these equations into one simple form. It allows a person to perform a transmutation without memorizing thousands of equations as long as the person is able to understand the basic theory behind them. If any part of the transmutation circle is flawed, the transmutation will be as well. It will either have no result or completely backfire, sometimes leaving harmful results.

“As such, you will not be attempting any transmutations until you can draw perfect transmutation circles. You will not begin by drawing the circles themselves but rather by drawing the components of the transmutation circles. They are made up of geometric figures and are sometimes accompanied by written formulas.”

Edward paused, walking to the work table and picking up the small box on top of it. “I have here chalk. You will each attempt to draw a perfect circle, a perfect triangle, and a perfect square. These are the most common shapes found in transmutation circles. Once you have perfected these, you will begin to inscribe the triangles, squares, and small circles into circles in a precise symmetrical pattern.”

He once more gave the entire room a piercing gaze. “If any of you believes this is mundane work and is not willing to practice this repeatedly or study scientific equations, leave now. I’ve already said that I will take no shit from you. I will not hesitate to have a single one of you banned from these classes if you do not take them seriously.” When no one moved in the silence that followed, he set the box of chalk back on the work table. “Begin. I will first demonstrate what these perfect shapes look like.”

He took a tiny piece of chalk from his pocket and drew on the front wall a perfect circle, triangle, and square with a practiced ease. He had finished in less than three seconds. He then turned expectedly to his his students, and they moved as one to begin the exercise.

It was quite possibly the simplest yet most difficult lesson any of them had participated in. Hands used to delicate quills were sloppy with the small, thick pieces of chalk and drew clumsy, lopsided shapes. The shapes became more distinct after a few minutes of repetition, yet it was clear that none of them were perfect, as Edward patrolled the room and pointed out glaring flaws. Not even Hermione had managed to complete a perfect figure when the alchemist dismissed them an hour later with the instruction to “Practice until they’re perfect.”

Before anyone left the room, however, the Ravenclaw from earlier spoke once more. “Excuse me, Sir,” she said, stopping everyone else in their tracks, “but you can perform alchemy without a transmutation circle, isn’t that right?” At his nod, she continued. “How is that possible? How can you transmute in a few scarce seconds when you need to focus on so many different equations and principles? What makes you so special?”

It seemed that Edward had been asked this question before, for he answered with no detectable hesitation. “I have been studying alchemy since I was six years old. I was made a State Alchemist at the age of twelve because of my ability to transmute without a circle. I am no different from you are; I just put in more effort and work harder. Class is dismissed.”

Pondering this thought, the students left. Malfoy was sneering, but he was determined to show Edward that he was a Malfoy and as such superior to anyone else. Harry, Ron, and Hermione spoke about how the boy’s feat could be possible on the way back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione was beaming.

“You see, boys,” she said in her know-it-all tone, “if you work hard enough, anything is possible! You really should put more effort into your schoolwork, and then maybe you can pass with ‘Outstanding’s in everything!”

“If it’s all the same to you, Hermione,” Harry said, “I think we’ll stick to our regular study schedule.”

---

Colonel Mustang spoke with Edward as they returned to the Room of Requirement. Professor Dumbledore had restored the Great Hall to its original form; he would once again change it into slate on Monday evening, the next time the Alchemy Club was to meet. “So, Professor Elric,” Mustang lightly jibed, “do you see any potential in your students?”

Edward remained silent for several moments before he responded. “In a few of them, maybe. Definitely more than I expected, but not a lot.”

The colonel nodded. “So what are your plans now?”

“Same as they were when I started,” the boy said. “If they can master a basic transmutation circle, they can attempt a simple transmutation. If someone actually manages a transmutation, I’ll help that person to excel. It’s the best I can do.”

It’s what Al would do. The words were not spoken, but they were present nonetheless. “If you need any assistance, all you have to do is ask.”

“I know.”

---

Friday morning dawned and the castle buzzed. Everyone was talking about the Alchemy Club even though most of the school was excluded from it. They talked about the lesson, the theory, and the thousands of equations that had been written on the walls of the Great Hall the previous evening. Edward and his guard stayed in the abandoned Astronomy Tower until lunch, after which the young alchemist led them outside to the lake. He liked to under the shade of a beech tree on the shore side and watch the water be gently blown by the wind. It was soothing to him, and it allowed him to momentarily forget his troubles and enjoy the beauty of nature.

Not long after he had settled, however, he was disturbed. Not far from where he sat stood a young girl, probably a second year, holding a large white cat. She was speaking with one of her friends, and at their feet were three small kittens.

“I just don’t know what to do!” the girl cried. Her friend looked sympathetic as she provided support. “My mum said that if I can’t find homes for them, she’ll send them to a shelter, but I’ve already asked everyone I know! I can’t let her do that!”

Two of the kittens, each white with black spots, were rolling around on the ground. The third was small and grey, and it was watching them, tail twitching, as if wanting to play but too shy to do so.

The girl’s friend spoke. “I’m sorry, Leanne. I’ve asked around, but I can’t find anyone either. We found homes for three of them, though, right? Isn’t that better than nothing?”

“I guess.” The first girl sighed. “I just can’t stand to see them go to a shelter...”

“I’ll take one.”

The two girls spun, having not noticed Edward walk to them. The girl with the cat looked at him hopefully. “Really? You mean it?”

Edward nodded. The girl smiled, handed the cat to her friend, and gave him the small grey kitten. “Thank you so much,” she said. “Please take good care of him!”

“I will.” Ed smiled at them reassuringly. “I’m just glad that I could help.” The girl thanked him again, picked up the remaining two kittens, and walked away with her friend.

Lieutenant Hughes walked to stand behind the boy, Major Armstrong close at hand. “So you have a cat now, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“What are you going to name him?”

Edward was silent for a moment before he replied.

“Alphonse.”

---

AN: There it is! This is my best chapter yet, I believe, so I do hope you all enjoyed it and that it was worth the wait. Please let me know what you think. There was less that happened in this chapter than I had originally wanted, but it flows well, I believe. I especially love the end of the chapter, and I hope you all did, too. There are only two more chapters until the story is finished, and I’ll try to get them post more quickly, but I won’t rush it. Until next time,

-Sugarpony