"blah blah"- Speaking Greek (or a dream)

"blah blah"- Speaking Amestrian (The first bit of this chapter is all in Amestrian though, so it's not bolded)

'blah blah'- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

Disclaimer: Seeing as I am neither British, Japanese, or a man; I am neither J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, or Rick Riordan, which means I do not own their respective works. In addition, I do not own the song 'This is War' by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

Edward

     Edward Elric was less than pleased, to say the least. In fact, he was the farthest thing from pleased. He was the exact opposite of pleased. He was so far from pleased that he may as well have been on the other side of the world from 'pleased'. To put it simply, he was majorly ticked off.

     "You're sending me back?" Edward cried, slamming his metal fist against the desk in front of him, which resulted in a fist-shaped dent in the wood. "Why?! Why not send someone else?!"

     Colonel Mustang didn't budge from his seat, completely unfazed by Edward's rage-induced fist slamming and yelling. No wonder, considering it was a regular occurrence for him. "Fullmetal," he began calmly, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't damage my furniture any more than necessary. This desk is expensive, you know."

     "It's not like you paid for it," Ed retorted, crossing his arms and glaring at the colonel. "And you didn't answer my question! Why me?"

     "Because, Fullmetal," Colonel Mustang said with a long-suffering sigh, "the headmaster requested for you to be sent, and the Fuhrer decided that it was in Amestris's best interests to at least try to stay on good terms with England." Mustang smirked at the fuming boy in front of him. "To be honest, I'm surprised they wanted you to come back at all – you're not exactly the most pleasant individual, after all."

     "Screw you too, bastard," Ed grumbled before turning back to the subject at hand. "I can't leave again!" He yelled. "I have more important things to do than waste time teaching a bunch of ignorant magic kids about alchemy!"

     Mustang raised an eyebrow. "Haven't you considered the fact that this 'magic' could help you get Al's body back?"

     Ed scoffed, glaring even more intensely at the colonel; if that were possible. "Maybe I would have if I'd had any time to do research, but I was too busy teaching." He spat out the last word as if it had personally offended him.

     "Well, that problem has an easy solution." Mustang laced his fingers together and leaned forward. "Alphonse is permitted to accompany you this year," he stated.

     Edward froze mid-protest, mouth open, and eyed the colonel warily. "What made you change your mind?" He asked cautiously.

     "You mean you can't accept my actions as a show of generosity?" Mustang asked with mock dejection. "I'm offended, Fullmetal."

     "I'm sure," Ed retorted, rolling his eyes. "I don't like being in debt to anyone, least of all you."

     Mustang merely smirked again and slid a folder across the desk. "This has all the information you need. You'll be taking the same train as last year."

     Edward begrudgingly accepted the papers, a scowl fixed upon his face. "This had better be worth it," he hissed before turning on his heel and storming out of the office.

~o~O~o~

     Three weeks later, Edward was no less happy with his assignment as he and Alphonse walked up to the castle doors.

     "I can't believe that bastard of a colonel convinced me to come back here," Ed grumbled, gazing up at the imposing castle in front of him. Most people would be in awe when facing such an impressive structure, but Edward didn't feel anything but resentment towards the building, along with everything it represented.

     "I'm sure it won't be as bad as you think, Brother," Alphonse said in an attempt to placate him. "Maybe we'll find something useful on how to get our bodies back!"

     "Yeah, maybe," Edward said warily, kicking at a loose stone. Truth be told, he still didn't trust this 'magic'; it was too unpredictable, too subject to change; and, most disconcerting of all, it completely ignored the law of equivalent exchange. Edward knew from experience that disregarding equivalence had terrible consequences, and he didn't want to risk Al's body with something so volatile.

     "Mr. Elric!" A voice called from the now-open castle doors.

     Edward looked up to see a familiar woman standing just outside the entrance. Professor McGonagall smiled as the brothers crossed the small distance between them.

     "I'm glad to see that you've arrived safely," McGonagall said, nodding at both of them.

     Edward put on a not-entirely-fake smile as he nodded back. "Good to see you again – ma'am." Edward mentally winced at his difficulty with finding the correct English words, all the while berating himself for not practicing the language. 'It's not like I thought I would ever have to use it again,' he complained internally.

     "The students will be arriving tomorrow evening," McGonagall informed them as she ushered them into the entrance hall. "In the meantime, the library is free to use, and you will be in the same room as last year." McGonagall paused. "I suppose I should provide you with a map," she realized. "I don't suppose you remember the way?"

     Edward was loath to admit that he did not, but Al's polite 'yes please' saved him the trouble. Not a minute late the professor had provided them with two identical maps she had seemingly pulled from thin air. Edward forced himself to ignore the blatant disregard for several laws of nature, knowing that he would once again have to become accustomed to it.

     McGonagall departed soon after telling them when to arrive at the Great Hall for meals, leaving the brothers free for the remainder of the day. True to form, they spent that day in the library.

     "If we could find a way to harness whatever energy magic uses to perform its spells, then we could trade that for your body," Edward theorized, dropping a stack of books onto the table Al had chosen before seating himself next to his brother. "Kind of like a philosophers stone; but without human lives."

     Al nodded in agreement. "In that case, the first thing we need to do is figure out what exactly it is that powers their magic."

     "Exactly." Ed grabbed the first book from his stack and flipped it open. "Let's get to work."

~o~O~o~

     The next evening found an extremely tired Edward Elric seated at the head table with the rest of the professors as students poured into the Great Hall. After a full twenty-four hours of research with very few breaks, he was having trouble holding his eyes open. On top of that, a pounding headache had creeped its way into his forehead; most likely stemming from the lack of sleep.

     Madame Pomfrey raised her eyebrows at him. "Edward, you look exhausted," she said with a tsk of her tongue. At least, that's what Edward thought she had said – his lack of sleep and headache made it harder than usual to interpret English.

     Ed waved his hand dismissively. "I'll survive," he managed. It was clear that the school nurse did not approve, but she didn't say anything else; likely because of the tune that was now bursting from the old hat.

     Edward took the opportunity to rest his head in his flesh hand and close his eyes, even if it was just for a minute...he was startled out of his near-asleep state when thunderous applause echoed through the hall, marking the end of the song. The next several minutes weren't much quieter, as Professor McGonagall proceeded with the school's odd 'sorting ceremony'. After what seemed like an eternity in Edward's sleep-hazed mind, 'Whitby, Kevin' took his place at the Hufflepuff table and the food arrived.

     Edward still wasn't fond of his meals popping into existence right in front of him, but he had somewhat become accustomed to it. He remembered his first meal at Hogwarts, and turning to Professor Lupin in horror, asking if wizards could simply make this much food appear out of nothing?! Needless to say, he was quite relieved to hear that food preparation was, in fact, necessary.

     The fulfilling meal ended with Edward having an even harder time resisting the urge to lay his heavy head on the table in front of him and sleep. He settled for resting his head in his hands and closing his eyes as Dumbledore began his usual announcements; 'the forbidden forest is forbidden, blah blah blah'; and something about that ridiculous sport that they played – quidditch, was it?

     Edward didn't have the interest nor the energy to listen close enough to what was being said. Whatever it was, the student body did not seem pleased. The uproar was so great that Edward went so far as to open his previously–closed eyes and looked around to ensure that no one had died.

     He was glad that he chose that moment to pay attention because an instant after he raised his head, the door to the Great Hall banged open, revealing a man swathed in a black cloak, leaning on a tall staff. His unceremonious entrance startled everyone into silence (in fact, it reminded Edward a great deal of his own entrance the previous year).

     The man didn't seem the slightest bit bothered by the stares he was attracting. He pulled off his hood, revealing a head of unruly, dark grey hair, then began walking towards the teachers' table. Edward immediately noted the clunk–thump rhythm of the man's steps; a dead giveaway of a prosthetic leg. After all, Ed had heard the same pattern in his own footsteps often enough.

     Suddenly wide awake, Edward's eyes followed the man as he neared the table. Lightning flashed from the ceiling, illuminating the stranger's face. Several audible gasps sounded from the students, and for good reason. Edward had seen military officers with scars before; heck, he had plenty of scars of his own; but this man's face was by far one of the worst he had laid eyes on. His nose seemed to be missing a chunk, and it looked as if every inch of his exposed skin was riddled with deep lines and slashes.

     Then there were his eyes – or eye, singular – that is, only one of his eyes was human. The other eye was a solid, bright, near-glowing blue, and it whirled around, pointing in a new direction every second, never stopping to rest for an instant.

     The man, upon reaching Dumbledore, offered a scarred hand, which Dumbledore shook without hesitation. Dumbledore seemed to be inquiring something of the stranger, but before Edward could even begin to interpret what was said, the man turned away from the headmaster and took a seat at the table, only two chairs down from where Edward himself sat.

     Dumbledore turned once again to face the students he had been addressing. "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Professor Moody," he said cheerily.

     Silence reigned throughout the hall, broken only by Dumbledore and Hagrid's clapping, which sounded quite pathetic all by itself. Professor Moody continued to show no emotion and began investigating the remainders of food on the table.

     Dumbledore continued his announcements as if nothing had happened, and Edward forced himself to tear his eyes away from the intriguing professor and listen to the remainder of Dumbledore's speech.

     "As I was saying," the headmaster spoke, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

     "You're JOKING!" A voice cried out in disbelief.

     'That's right,' Edward remembered. 'There's that stupid tournament this year...freakin' wizards. As if flying around on broomsticks wasn't crazy enough.'

     "I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore was saying. "Though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag and a leprechaun who all go into a bar–"

     Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly, interrupting the headmaster's spiel.

     "Er – but maybe this is not the time...no..." said Dumbledore. "Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament...well, some of you will not know what this Tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."

     Dumbledore began a lengthy explanation of the Triwizard Tournament, while Edward did exactly as he had suggested; letting his mind stray to the new professor.

     'He's definitely seen his fair share of battles,' Edward mused. 'But the question is, did he get all those scars because he's bad at defending himself, or because he's unlucky?' Watching the new professor gaze suspiciously around the hall, his bright blue eye spinning restlessly, Ed decided that the man was not one to be trifled with. Something about that eye gave Ed pause...as if it could see straight through his defenses and lay all of his secrets bare. Edward scowled and looked away.

     'Quit being ridiculous,' he scolded himself. 'It's just a freaky wizard eye.' Stealing another sideways glance towards Professor Moody, Edward found himself locking eyes with the man. The professor held his gaze for a single heartbeat, during which Ed felt a chill go down his spine. Then Professor Moody took a swig out of the flask at his hip and went back to the food in front of him.

     Edward forced himself to ignore the unsettling feeling that had worked its way into his gut. It didn't mean anything; it was a feeling, and what did a feeling prove? Absolutely nothing. Besides, Dumbledore obviously trusted him if he hired him to teach students.

     'I'm being paranoid. He creeps me out, that's all. There's no reason to think he's evil or something.' With that, Edward effectively shoved his uneasy thoughts aside.

~o~O~o~

A/N - *Throws hands into air* It is done! Yes, it took me nearly two weeks, but it is done! I apologize for the wait; school officially started back up, and I had some family health issues, and overall I've just been very busy lately. It didn't help that this chapter refused to be written...partly why it's kinda on the short side. One other thing before I go. When I wrote the previous book, I tried to have my updates within a week of each other, more or less. This time, however, I'm making my goal to update within two weeks, not one. I'm very busy with school and theatre and hopefully getting a job soon, so two weeks is way less stressful for me. I apologize, but hopefully you won't always have to wait two weeks. I post as soon as the chapter is finished, so it's not going to be exactly two weeks or exactly one. Well, thanks for reading and please drop a comment or two! They really keep me going.