Arches and Gates--Chapter 8: Heart to Heart (Incomplete)
“So what do we know?”
It had now been several weeks since Hogwarts had let out for summer vacation. But while the students were out enjoying the rare warm weather, Ed and Roy were still locked up in the library pouring over what must have been hundreds of years worth of texts. But it finally seemed that they might have come to the end of the line as far as the books were concerned. Since the discovery that led to Ed’s discussion with Harry and the information they had received from him, they had made no more progress in their research concerning the stone and how it might relate to their world.
It seemed that for about 100 years leading up to the stone’s creation there was a massive amount of research done, though most was incomplete. Then there came the stone itself, of which they could find no research about, only periodicals covering the event. And slowly over time those too began to die out until the stone and its creator fell out of the public eye completely for the next 500 years.
All this boiled down to much fruitless searching and therefore a very bored Ed and Roy. And as anyone who knew him in Amestris could tell you, Ed didn’t take to boredom well. Thus why two weeks into summer and after endless frustration with the incomplete and in some cases incorrect information in the Philosopher’s Stone documents, he decided to go through and correct them himself.
Apparently, no had warned the poor alchemist about just how protective the librarian, Madame Pince, was of her books.
He’d gotten about half-way through the stack he’d set out to correct before she found him. And despite the fact that his improvements had likely doubled the information value of the books, no amount of pleading on his part was going to save him from her wrath…
Then Mustang came in.
Ed had been witness to Roy’s persuasive charming of women before, but never had he been so grateful for Roy’s womanizing skills as he was that day. Within minutes of the man opening his mouth one could visibly see the irate woman’s feathers go from ruffled to flustered. Then a few comments thrown in such as ‘He just wishes his own thoughts could be so well preserved as your books’ and ‘Such an intelligent boy, I’m sure he’s learned his lesson’ and before Ed knew it the librarian was almost skipping back to her work, letting Ed off the hook with only the requirement that they sit within her view at all times so she could keep an eye on him (or on Mustang, Ed hadn’t decided yet).
And thus why they were now required to sit in front of the librarian’s desk.
“Well, we know there was a Philosopher’s Stone made on this side of the Gate a few hundred years ago and this stone is commonly known to produce the Elixir of Life and to transmute solid lead to gold,” said Ed. “This information would lead one to believe that our stone is unrelated to theirs. However, we learned from Harry that this Voldemort guy attempted to steal and use the stone to regain his original body which was lost to him; a situation eerily similar to I and Al’s. I think we’ve established before now that this couldn’t possibly all be coincidence.”
“Agreed,” said Roy, leaning back in his chair. “But there hasn’t been any evidence that the process of making this Stone is anything like it is in our world. So if the souls of others aren’t the core of this stone, then what is? And how does it work as an equal exchange?”
“Ergh!” growled Ed standing up, running his left hand through this hair in frustration. “We’re not getting anywhere! These are the same questions we were asking ourselves last week! And the week before that! We’re going around in circles!”
“Maybe it’s time we go and speak with Dumbledore. Po-Harry,” Roy corrected himself at Ed’s sideways glare, “said that he was involved in research with the man who completed the stone, correct? The most he could do is refuse to answer us.”
“That’s all well and good, but first we have to find the crazy bastard.”
Indeed, Dumbledore had been absent from the castle for some time now. Almost as soon as school ended it seemed Dumbledore had just up and disappeared, saying he had things he had to find and research abroad. Since then they had neither seen nor heard anything from the old coot. Not even the other professors knew anything of his whereabouts.
“Good point,” Roy conceded.
Ed gave a deep sigh of resignation and sat back down, letting his head fall forward and give a ‘thump’ as it hit the table between them.
“At this rate, we’ll never get home, and I’ll never know the truth...”
‘I’ll never know if Al is alive and well, or if…’
He felt a hand brush over the top of his head and sat up.
Roy pulled back his hand, moving it to Ed’s chin to tilt Ed’s face to look at him.
“You’ll see your brother again. I promise you that.”
Ed didn’t know what to say. When Roy said it, he sounded so strong and sure. And the hand lightly touching his chin was warm and comforting… But their search was leading no where.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I promise you Edward, even if I have to search to the ends of 10 worlds, I’ll find a way to get you home.”
“I’m not sure about the ends of the world, but a change of scenery is definitely in order.”
Roy and Ed turned to find Professor McGonagall standing behind them, as strict looking as ever. Apparently the idea of ‘relaxing’ was not in this woman’s vocabulary.
“What do you mean, Professor?”
“Dumbledore explained that the school’s defenses would be going under renovations this summer, did he not?”
“I do remember he mentioned something about it… is it time then?” asked Roy.
“Indeed. The ward specialists will be arriving tomorrow morning at 9 o’clock to begin so we will need to have the both of you resettled at Diagon Alley before then.”
“We can be ready to leave at any time, Madam,” said Roy.
“Very good, we will be leaving at 8 o’clock in the morning from the headmaster’s office.”
“Has the headmaster returned?” asked Ed hopefully.
McGonagall sighed, “Unfortunately, no one has been able to locate the headmaster. Your accommodations were arranged long in advance and it just so happens the office has not locked itself in Albus’ absence, likely on his own orders prior to leaving.”
“Alright, but if he happens to show back up sometime soon could you tell him Roy and I would like to ask him a few questions? We’ve hit something of a dead end in our research that he might be able to help with,” said Ed.
“I’ll be sure to mention it once he returns,” said McGonagall with a nod. “If there is nothing else I shall take my leave.”
Once he was sure the professor had left, Roy turned back to Ed with a thoughtful look on his face. “You know, we might have finally come to the point where merely reading theorems and descriptions of magic are no longer enough.”
“What do you mean?” asked Ed. “It’s not like we can actually do any magic--“
“Why not?” Roy asked bluntly.
“Because- Well-“
“Seriously, why wouldn’t we be able to? Sure, there’s a chance that we might not be able to, but there is just as much of a chance that we could. Perhaps even more than a chance considering how we already have the ability to harness the energy necessary for transmutations.”
“The two are nothing alike, Roy! Anybody with enough time and effort could learn to do alchemy. But this ‘magic’ seems to be genetic-“
“What about muggleborns?” Roy asked.
“I’m convinced that even then it’s genetic, whether it is genetically recessive or just some strange mutation I’m not sure, but it’s definitely in the blood.”
“Still, couldn’t hurt to try, right?”
“Even if by chance we can do magic, we have no idea how it could affect our ability to do alchemy. Or vice versa-what if our affinity with alchemy somehow affects our spell casting? We could end up blowing up a building or something!” Ed said, throwing up his arms in exasperation.
Roy sat back as he considered it. Ed did have a point. Alchemy was nearly reflexive at this point. What if they combined the two on accident? There was no telling what kind of reaction that would cause.
But still…
“You know, we still might need to chance it. Safety precautions will definitely need to be in place, but if it comes down to needing to use magic to get us home it would be better that we be experienced with magical energies so that we don’t end up accidentally splinching ourselves between realities.”
Ed couldn’t help but wince at that mental image. They had come across the term ‘splinch’ while looking through books on magical transportation.
Needless to say, they had both agreed that apparation would only ever be used as a last resort.
“Ed… is there some other reason you don’t want to learn magic?”
Ed looked up at Roy to see the man looking at him with a soft and curious gaze. He quickly looked away as he began to blush.
“It’s just… There’s no denying the reality of the magic of this dimension. It’s as real as alchemy… But it goes against everything I believe!” said Ed as he hit his flesh hand against the table top. “Damn it! Equivalent exchange isn’t just a scientific law! It’s the truth of the world! The truth of my world!”
Roy said nothing at first. What could he possibly say to make Ed understand?
The chair scraped the floor as Roy stood and walked over to kneel beside Ed, who had yet to raise his head from glaring at the surface of the table. He didn’t look up until Roy took his automail hand into his own.
“What are you--?”
“Why would someone sacrifice an arm, a leg or even their own life for that of another?” Roy asked as he ran his hand over the hard surface of the automail hidden beneath gloves and glamours.
“What do you mean?” Ed asked defensively.
“Why did you do it?”
Ed stared at Roy through slitted eyes. What was the bastard getting at…?
“Why wouldn’t I? Al is my little brother, he’s my responsibility-“
“Is that truly the only reason why you did it? Because you felt like you owed him?”
“Of course not!”
“Then why else?” Roy persisted.
“Because I love him!” yelled Ed.
“And why do you love him? What do you want in return for it?”
“Nothing!” said Ed with a disgusted look on his face, as if the mere thought of loving someone only for something in return was not only inconceivable but downright horrific.
Roy smiled.
“Exactly, because there is no equivalent exchange for love. There is nothing that can be given for or in substitute of it. And there is no assurance that you will be given an equal amount of love in return, as if love could be measured at all. And as you well know, there is no equivalent exchange for a life-any life-in this world or any other.
Equivalent exchange does not encompass everything within the world. But it’s principal-that there is give and take, that sweat and tears are given for lessons learned-that truth is the one to live by, because in the end equivalency is in the eye of the beholder.
Do you understand?”
All Ed could do was stare at Roy. The sincerity in the man’s voice, the calmness in his gaze and the gentle way he could tell Roy was holding his automail hand… all of it had enraptured him while he spoke. And despite how much he wanted to rebuke his words, defend his stance…
He couldn’t, because within those words he could find nothing but truth.
“And perhaps instead of looking at magic and seeing only what it has and what it can do, we should look at what it doesn’t have and what it can’t do. Within that we may find the equivalency that you are looking for,” said Roy as he laid Ed’s hand against the shocked teen’s chest, briefly covering it with his own, before he stood and walked towards the front of the library.
“At any rate, it will be a while yet before we will have the opportunity to try my idea out. For magic we will need wands, and for wands we’ll need money. And before any of that, we need to prepare to leave tomorrow morning. Let’s go pack before Madame Pince’s patience with our disruptive conversations gets us thrown out indefinitely. Even my charming face and disposition may not be enough to save you if we stay any longer. Her glare at the moment is enough to melt iron, but thankfully you’re too short to see over the table, so no harm done.”
“You- Go to hell!”
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
“Take one down, pass it around, 561 butterbeers on the wall…
….
I really need to ask for a book to read.”
“And what book would you ask for in a world not your own?”
Sirius looked up at the door to see the sliding panel at the top pulled back, showing the pretty blonde-Hawkeye-peering at him through the bars.
“Well at this point I’d settle for children’s stories, but if you just happen to have an issue of a gentleman’s magazine that would do nicely too. If there’s one thing I believe in, it’s that men will be men, no matter what dimension they’re from,” he said with a winning smile.
He heard a suffering sigh come from the other side of the door and could imagine those pretty brown eyes rolling in exasperation.
“Now, not that I’m not grateful for your company, but last I remember you weren’t particularly impressed with my story. So why are you here?”
At first there was no response, then the door to the cell opened and Hawkeye stepped inside along with a tall man with two-toned blonde hair and a cigarette hanging from his lips with a grin like a loon.
“Ah damn… you brought your boyfriend?”
The effect was instantaneous-and rather hilarious. The man’s eyes opened wide with shock while his cigarette fell from its loose perch. He sputtered a bit before he shot a look over to Hawkeye and took a couple steps to the side and back.
Hawkeye on the other hand kept a straight face and seemed to have decided to pretend as if she hadn’t heard him.
‘Does nothing ruffle this bird’s feathers?’ thought Sirius.
“This is my subordinate Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc, and we are here to ask you a few more questions.”
“You know, I’ve been pretty cooperative so far in all this, even while being locked up in this cell. But I’m curious, what’s in this for me?”
Hawkeye pursed her lips for a moment but quickly pushed away any signs of her aggravation.
“I believe some arrangements can be made to make your stay more comfortable. But time is critical in this investigation, so I ask you-please answer these questions. I’ll do my best to hold to my part of the bargain.”
Sirius considered his two guests. They both stood with looks of determination on their faces. Whoever these people who were missing were to the two of them, they seemed to desperately want them back.
Faintly, he felt that there was someone who he should be feeling that same desperation to return to…
Black hair…? Green eyes…?
Sirius sighed.
“Alright, what do you want to know?”
“You said you’re a…wizard; that you come from a world of ‘magic.’ Could you please describe your world to us?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because if you aren’t lying and you’re not insane, then it’s likely that’s where the Bosses ended up,” said Havoc.
“So the people who disappeared were your superior officers?”
“That is correct,” said Hawkeye.
“You must have been pretty close to them to be this torn up about it.”
Hawkeye paused and Sirius almost felt bad about saying anything. But she straightened herself before replying, “Roy Mustang, my commanding officer, was-is a great man, and we have gone through a lot together over the years. Edward Elric, although being only seventeen, is an admirable and brilliant young man. It is an honor to work with both. And if learning to believe in worlds with magic and wizards is what it takes to bring them home then so be it.”
Sirius nodded, “Ok, then the first thing you need to understand is this-magic does not merely consist of cheap tricks and flashy lights. It’s a very powerful and sometimes deadly force. Two words is all it takes for a wizard to cast a spell that if it hits anywhere on your body, you are dead instantly. One word can create so much pain in a person that it feels like every nerve in their body is on fire and within minutes they can fall into insanity. Yes, there are plenty of completely benign forms of magic, but there is also an equal amount of horror.
The second is that magic is not easy. It may look it, but every spell takes its toll. Magic is like a muscle-the more you use it the stronger it grows, the less you use it the weaker it gets. And if you over do it, magical exhaustion will force you into a temporary coma in order to regain your strength.
And lastly, magic is not the answer to everything. There are some things even it cannot do. Magic cannot raise the dead, or if it does they are merely cannibalistic undead rather than the people they once were. The only known exception is the leader of the people who I was fighting before I ended up here, and even he wasn’t completely dead. But the point is that it’s not the cure for all the world’s ills. It’s a tool, nothing more and nothing less.”
“You have told me what magic is not, but what is it?” asked Hawkeye.
“I started with explaining what it wasn’t because in all truth no one really knows what it really is, and most don’t want to know. Most of my people believe that magic is magic and you shouldn’t question it. The few studies that have been done merely told us what we already know-the ability to use magic is hereditary. However, there are magical children born to parents who are unable to use magic-muggleborns we call them-and there has yet to be an explanation given for how it happens. But essentially, I suppose you could say that magic is a force used by wizards to accomplish both incredible and mundane actions in ways that would otherwise be impossible without it.”
“And you use the stick-“
“Wand.”
“You use the wand we found you with to do this?”
“Yes. Most magic requires a wand.”
“Most? Which do not?”
“A wand isn’t necessary for a wizard to transform into an animal if they have the capability to do so, and its not always needed to apparate-pretty much to disappear in one place and reappear in another.”
“You can do that? Why haven’t you escaped then?” asked Havoc, confused.
“Because in order to do so I’d need a very clear picture of where I’d want to reappear or very good coordinates, otherwise I might reappear in the middle of a wall or over a cliff somewhere. Or I’d splinch myself.”
“Splinch?”
“You don’t want to know. But it’s very unpleasant.”
“You are being very forthcoming with this information. Why is that? You must realize this may put you at a disadvantage,” said Hawkeye suspiciously.
“Because quite frankly, even if I were to escape, where would I go? I have nothing, know no one and probably have none of the skills necessary to blend in with this world. The way I see it my best chance at being able to make it back to my world lies with you lot,” said Sirius as he leaned back against the wall beside the bed. “Besides, you still have my wand.”
“Other than magic, what else can you tell us about your world?”
…About an hour later...
It had now been several weeks since Hogwarts had let out for summer vacation. But while the students were out enjoying the rare warm weather, Ed and Roy were still locked up in the library pouring over what must have been hundreds of years worth of texts. But it finally seemed that they might have come to the end of the line as far as the books were concerned. Since the discovery that led to Ed’s discussion with Harry and the information they had received from him, they had made no more progress in their research concerning the stone and how it might relate to their world.
It seemed that for about 100 years leading up to the stone’s creation there was a massive amount of research done, though most was incomplete. Then there came the stone itself, of which they could find no research about, only periodicals covering the event. And slowly over time those too began to die out until the stone and its creator fell out of the public eye completely for the next 500 years.
All this boiled down to much fruitless searching and therefore a very bored Ed and Roy. And as anyone who knew him in Amestris could tell you, Ed didn’t take to boredom well. Thus why two weeks into summer and after endless frustration with the incomplete and in some cases incorrect information in the Philosopher’s Stone documents, he decided to go through and correct them himself.
Apparently, no had warned the poor alchemist about just how protective the librarian, Madame Pince, was of her books.
He’d gotten about half-way through the stack he’d set out to correct before she found him. And despite the fact that his improvements had likely doubled the information value of the books, no amount of pleading on his part was going to save him from her wrath…
Then Mustang came in.
Ed had been witness to Roy’s persuasive charming of women before, but never had he been so grateful for Roy’s womanizing skills as he was that day. Within minutes of the man opening his mouth one could visibly see the irate woman’s feathers go from ruffled to flustered. Then a few comments thrown in such as ‘He just wishes his own thoughts could be so well preserved as your books’ and ‘Such an intelligent boy, I’m sure he’s learned his lesson’ and before Ed knew it the librarian was almost skipping back to her work, letting Ed off the hook with only the requirement that they sit within her view at all times so she could keep an eye on him (or on Mustang, Ed hadn’t decided yet).
And thus why they were now required to sit in front of the librarian’s desk.
“Well, we know there was a Philosopher’s Stone made on this side of the Gate a few hundred years ago and this stone is commonly known to produce the Elixir of Life and to transmute solid lead to gold,” said Ed. “This information would lead one to believe that our stone is unrelated to theirs. However, we learned from Harry that this Voldemort guy attempted to steal and use the stone to regain his original body which was lost to him; a situation eerily similar to I and Al’s. I think we’ve established before now that this couldn’t possibly all be coincidence.”
“Agreed,” said Roy, leaning back in his chair. “But there hasn’t been any evidence that the process of making this Stone is anything like it is in our world. So if the souls of others aren’t the core of this stone, then what is? And how does it work as an equal exchange?”
“Ergh!” growled Ed standing up, running his left hand through this hair in frustration. “We’re not getting anywhere! These are the same questions we were asking ourselves last week! And the week before that! We’re going around in circles!”
“Maybe it’s time we go and speak with Dumbledore. Po-Harry,” Roy corrected himself at Ed’s sideways glare, “said that he was involved in research with the man who completed the stone, correct? The most he could do is refuse to answer us.”
“That’s all well and good, but first we have to find the crazy bastard.”
Indeed, Dumbledore had been absent from the castle for some time now. Almost as soon as school ended it seemed Dumbledore had just up and disappeared, saying he had things he had to find and research abroad. Since then they had neither seen nor heard anything from the old coot. Not even the other professors knew anything of his whereabouts.
“Good point,” Roy conceded.
Ed gave a deep sigh of resignation and sat back down, letting his head fall forward and give a ‘thump’ as it hit the table between them.
“At this rate, we’ll never get home, and I’ll never know the truth...”
‘I’ll never know if Al is alive and well, or if…’
He felt a hand brush over the top of his head and sat up.
Roy pulled back his hand, moving it to Ed’s chin to tilt Ed’s face to look at him.
“You’ll see your brother again. I promise you that.”
Ed didn’t know what to say. When Roy said it, he sounded so strong and sure. And the hand lightly touching his chin was warm and comforting… But their search was leading no where.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I promise you Edward, even if I have to search to the ends of 10 worlds, I’ll find a way to get you home.”
“I’m not sure about the ends of the world, but a change of scenery is definitely in order.”
Roy and Ed turned to find Professor McGonagall standing behind them, as strict looking as ever. Apparently the idea of ‘relaxing’ was not in this woman’s vocabulary.
“What do you mean, Professor?”
“Dumbledore explained that the school’s defenses would be going under renovations this summer, did he not?”
“I do remember he mentioned something about it… is it time then?” asked Roy.
“Indeed. The ward specialists will be arriving tomorrow morning at 9 o’clock to begin so we will need to have the both of you resettled at Diagon Alley before then.”
“We can be ready to leave at any time, Madam,” said Roy.
“Very good, we will be leaving at 8 o’clock in the morning from the headmaster’s office.”
“Has the headmaster returned?” asked Ed hopefully.
McGonagall sighed, “Unfortunately, no one has been able to locate the headmaster. Your accommodations were arranged long in advance and it just so happens the office has not locked itself in Albus’ absence, likely on his own orders prior to leaving.”
“Alright, but if he happens to show back up sometime soon could you tell him Roy and I would like to ask him a few questions? We’ve hit something of a dead end in our research that he might be able to help with,” said Ed.
“I’ll be sure to mention it once he returns,” said McGonagall with a nod. “If there is nothing else I shall take my leave.”
Once he was sure the professor had left, Roy turned back to Ed with a thoughtful look on his face. “You know, we might have finally come to the point where merely reading theorems and descriptions of magic are no longer enough.”
“What do you mean?” asked Ed. “It’s not like we can actually do any magic--“
“Why not?” Roy asked bluntly.
“Because- Well-“
“Seriously, why wouldn’t we be able to? Sure, there’s a chance that we might not be able to, but there is just as much of a chance that we could. Perhaps even more than a chance considering how we already have the ability to harness the energy necessary for transmutations.”
“The two are nothing alike, Roy! Anybody with enough time and effort could learn to do alchemy. But this ‘magic’ seems to be genetic-“
“What about muggleborns?” Roy asked.
“I’m convinced that even then it’s genetic, whether it is genetically recessive or just some strange mutation I’m not sure, but it’s definitely in the blood.”
“Still, couldn’t hurt to try, right?”
“Even if by chance we can do magic, we have no idea how it could affect our ability to do alchemy. Or vice versa-what if our affinity with alchemy somehow affects our spell casting? We could end up blowing up a building or something!” Ed said, throwing up his arms in exasperation.
Roy sat back as he considered it. Ed did have a point. Alchemy was nearly reflexive at this point. What if they combined the two on accident? There was no telling what kind of reaction that would cause.
But still…
“You know, we still might need to chance it. Safety precautions will definitely need to be in place, but if it comes down to needing to use magic to get us home it would be better that we be experienced with magical energies so that we don’t end up accidentally splinching ourselves between realities.”
Ed couldn’t help but wince at that mental image. They had come across the term ‘splinch’ while looking through books on magical transportation.
Needless to say, they had both agreed that apparation would only ever be used as a last resort.
“Ed… is there some other reason you don’t want to learn magic?”
Ed looked up at Roy to see the man looking at him with a soft and curious gaze. He quickly looked away as he began to blush.
“It’s just… There’s no denying the reality of the magic of this dimension. It’s as real as alchemy… But it goes against everything I believe!” said Ed as he hit his flesh hand against the table top. “Damn it! Equivalent exchange isn’t just a scientific law! It’s the truth of the world! The truth of my world!”
Roy said nothing at first. What could he possibly say to make Ed understand?
The chair scraped the floor as Roy stood and walked over to kneel beside Ed, who had yet to raise his head from glaring at the surface of the table. He didn’t look up until Roy took his automail hand into his own.
“What are you--?”
“Why would someone sacrifice an arm, a leg or even their own life for that of another?” Roy asked as he ran his hand over the hard surface of the automail hidden beneath gloves and glamours.
“What do you mean?” Ed asked defensively.
“Why did you do it?”
Ed stared at Roy through slitted eyes. What was the bastard getting at…?
“Why wouldn’t I? Al is my little brother, he’s my responsibility-“
“Is that truly the only reason why you did it? Because you felt like you owed him?”
“Of course not!”
“Then why else?” Roy persisted.
“Because I love him!” yelled Ed.
“And why do you love him? What do you want in return for it?”
“Nothing!” said Ed with a disgusted look on his face, as if the mere thought of loving someone only for something in return was not only inconceivable but downright horrific.
Roy smiled.
“Exactly, because there is no equivalent exchange for love. There is nothing that can be given for or in substitute of it. And there is no assurance that you will be given an equal amount of love in return, as if love could be measured at all. And as you well know, there is no equivalent exchange for a life-any life-in this world or any other.
Equivalent exchange does not encompass everything within the world. But it’s principal-that there is give and take, that sweat and tears are given for lessons learned-that truth is the one to live by, because in the end equivalency is in the eye of the beholder.
Do you understand?”
All Ed could do was stare at Roy. The sincerity in the man’s voice, the calmness in his gaze and the gentle way he could tell Roy was holding his automail hand… all of it had enraptured him while he spoke. And despite how much he wanted to rebuke his words, defend his stance…
He couldn’t, because within those words he could find nothing but truth.
“And perhaps instead of looking at magic and seeing only what it has and what it can do, we should look at what it doesn’t have and what it can’t do. Within that we may find the equivalency that you are looking for,” said Roy as he laid Ed’s hand against the shocked teen’s chest, briefly covering it with his own, before he stood and walked towards the front of the library.
“At any rate, it will be a while yet before we will have the opportunity to try my idea out. For magic we will need wands, and for wands we’ll need money. And before any of that, we need to prepare to leave tomorrow morning. Let’s go pack before Madame Pince’s patience with our disruptive conversations gets us thrown out indefinitely. Even my charming face and disposition may not be enough to save you if we stay any longer. Her glare at the moment is enough to melt iron, but thankfully you’re too short to see over the table, so no harm done.”
“You- Go to hell!”
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
“Take one down, pass it around, 561 butterbeers on the wall…
….
I really need to ask for a book to read.”
“And what book would you ask for in a world not your own?”
Sirius looked up at the door to see the sliding panel at the top pulled back, showing the pretty blonde-Hawkeye-peering at him through the bars.
“Well at this point I’d settle for children’s stories, but if you just happen to have an issue of a gentleman’s magazine that would do nicely too. If there’s one thing I believe in, it’s that men will be men, no matter what dimension they’re from,” he said with a winning smile.
He heard a suffering sigh come from the other side of the door and could imagine those pretty brown eyes rolling in exasperation.
“Now, not that I’m not grateful for your company, but last I remember you weren’t particularly impressed with my story. So why are you here?”
At first there was no response, then the door to the cell opened and Hawkeye stepped inside along with a tall man with two-toned blonde hair and a cigarette hanging from his lips with a grin like a loon.
“Ah damn… you brought your boyfriend?”
The effect was instantaneous-and rather hilarious. The man’s eyes opened wide with shock while his cigarette fell from its loose perch. He sputtered a bit before he shot a look over to Hawkeye and took a couple steps to the side and back.
Hawkeye on the other hand kept a straight face and seemed to have decided to pretend as if she hadn’t heard him.
‘Does nothing ruffle this bird’s feathers?’ thought Sirius.
“This is my subordinate Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc, and we are here to ask you a few more questions.”
“You know, I’ve been pretty cooperative so far in all this, even while being locked up in this cell. But I’m curious, what’s in this for me?”
Hawkeye pursed her lips for a moment but quickly pushed away any signs of her aggravation.
“I believe some arrangements can be made to make your stay more comfortable. But time is critical in this investigation, so I ask you-please answer these questions. I’ll do my best to hold to my part of the bargain.”
Sirius considered his two guests. They both stood with looks of determination on their faces. Whoever these people who were missing were to the two of them, they seemed to desperately want them back.
Faintly, he felt that there was someone who he should be feeling that same desperation to return to…
Black hair…? Green eyes…?
Sirius sighed.
“Alright, what do you want to know?”
“You said you’re a…wizard; that you come from a world of ‘magic.’ Could you please describe your world to us?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because if you aren’t lying and you’re not insane, then it’s likely that’s where the Bosses ended up,” said Havoc.
“So the people who disappeared were your superior officers?”
“That is correct,” said Hawkeye.
“You must have been pretty close to them to be this torn up about it.”
Hawkeye paused and Sirius almost felt bad about saying anything. But she straightened herself before replying, “Roy Mustang, my commanding officer, was-is a great man, and we have gone through a lot together over the years. Edward Elric, although being only seventeen, is an admirable and brilliant young man. It is an honor to work with both. And if learning to believe in worlds with magic and wizards is what it takes to bring them home then so be it.”
Sirius nodded, “Ok, then the first thing you need to understand is this-magic does not merely consist of cheap tricks and flashy lights. It’s a very powerful and sometimes deadly force. Two words is all it takes for a wizard to cast a spell that if it hits anywhere on your body, you are dead instantly. One word can create so much pain in a person that it feels like every nerve in their body is on fire and within minutes they can fall into insanity. Yes, there are plenty of completely benign forms of magic, but there is also an equal amount of horror.
The second is that magic is not easy. It may look it, but every spell takes its toll. Magic is like a muscle-the more you use it the stronger it grows, the less you use it the weaker it gets. And if you over do it, magical exhaustion will force you into a temporary coma in order to regain your strength.
And lastly, magic is not the answer to everything. There are some things even it cannot do. Magic cannot raise the dead, or if it does they are merely cannibalistic undead rather than the people they once were. The only known exception is the leader of the people who I was fighting before I ended up here, and even he wasn’t completely dead. But the point is that it’s not the cure for all the world’s ills. It’s a tool, nothing more and nothing less.”
“You have told me what magic is not, but what is it?” asked Hawkeye.
“I started with explaining what it wasn’t because in all truth no one really knows what it really is, and most don’t want to know. Most of my people believe that magic is magic and you shouldn’t question it. The few studies that have been done merely told us what we already know-the ability to use magic is hereditary. However, there are magical children born to parents who are unable to use magic-muggleborns we call them-and there has yet to be an explanation given for how it happens. But essentially, I suppose you could say that magic is a force used by wizards to accomplish both incredible and mundane actions in ways that would otherwise be impossible without it.”
“And you use the stick-“
“Wand.”
“You use the wand we found you with to do this?”
“Yes. Most magic requires a wand.”
“Most? Which do not?”
“A wand isn’t necessary for a wizard to transform into an animal if they have the capability to do so, and its not always needed to apparate-pretty much to disappear in one place and reappear in another.”
“You can do that? Why haven’t you escaped then?” asked Havoc, confused.
“Because in order to do so I’d need a very clear picture of where I’d want to reappear or very good coordinates, otherwise I might reappear in the middle of a wall or over a cliff somewhere. Or I’d splinch myself.”
“Splinch?”
“You don’t want to know. But it’s very unpleasant.”
“You are being very forthcoming with this information. Why is that? You must realize this may put you at a disadvantage,” said Hawkeye suspiciously.
“Because quite frankly, even if I were to escape, where would I go? I have nothing, know no one and probably have none of the skills necessary to blend in with this world. The way I see it my best chance at being able to make it back to my world lies with you lot,” said Sirius as he leaned back against the wall beside the bed. “Besides, you still have my wand.”
“Other than magic, what else can you tell us about your world?”
…About an hour later...