Fullmetal Wizard | Chapter 16

He saw Hermione, Ginny, and Ron look up with eyebrows raised. The foot steps continued on down the hall. And soon, Harry heard the sound of ancient pipes coming to life. It wasn't long before Mrs. Weasley appeared in the doorway.

"Meeting's over. Dinner's on. Everyone's dying to see you, Harry." she said.

"What about Ed?" Harry said.

"Oh. He's...fine. Just taking a bath right now. He'll join us as soon as he's..."

Pop!

Fred and George apporated in. Right in front of Mrs. Weasley. She jumped back, eyes wide in surprise at first. Then her eyes narrowed.

"That's enough! Just because you can use magic now does not mean you can use it for every single little thing! Use the stairs for god's sakes!"

"Not nearly.."

"As fun..!"

"As seeing.."

"The look on your face.." Fred and George smiled widely at each other, then at Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh..you! What will I do with you both..! Come on." she fumed, looking pointedly over at Ginny.

Ginny sighed and got up from the bed, following her mother out to the hall.

Harry was soon alone with Herminoe and Ron. Both looked at him apprehensively, like he would start yelling at them again. The sight of them looking so nervous made him feel slightly guilty. Only slightly.

"Look.." He began..But Ron interrupted him.

"Dumbledore made us promise not to contact you, mate."

"We knew you'd be furious at us. And we really don't blame you. But you got to understand. We really tried to pursuade Dumbledore..

"Yeah. I know." Harry said, and folded his arms. He looked down at his worn out, but comfortable! shoes.

"Come on. I'm starving." Ron said, and wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders in a quick side hug. He led the way down the stairs. And he was the one who spotted him first. He held out an arm to stop Harry, and Harry looked at Ron in annoyance.

"Snape" He breathed, voice barely above a whisper.

"What's he have to do with the Order?" Harry snapped, in a hushed voice. He looked below him and saw the greasy haired man in the hall below him. He was standing in the center of the group. He blinked. All adults, and they were all excitingly whispering to one another, much like he and his own friends often did. It was a disturbing sight to see.

"Don't know. But he never stays for Dinner." Ron said.

"Thank goodness" Harry said, with venom in his hushed voice.

'Hate the man. Dinner with him would be dreadful. Too much to take.' He thought.

Ed was dozing off in the water, and he knew that was a bad thing. Especially where automail was concerned. It weighed him down in water, making death by drowning a very likely occurance. It was the reason he usually chose to take showers instead. But. He was finally warm, aches not aching, and, at the moment, very unwilling to move. He leaned his head back on the rim, letting the crook of his neck keep him from falling too far down.

'What a day.' he thought, and looked up at the ceiling, examining the many cobwebs hanging there.

Nearly freezing to death. That he could believe and was managing just fine right now. The pain in his head told him he still had a concussion... caused by what, he was still fuzzy on. Then there was that burn on his neck...

His left, living hand touched the bandage impulsively, and he made himself to stop.

'Creatures they call "Dementors"....and that..magic....'

He looked at the towel that hung nearby..conjured up by that woman calling herself Mrs. Weasley. He has seen her do it with a wave her wand, (that is what they were called, not "sticks"), but his mind screamed in protest at it. Not that the materials that made up the wall were all that different to make such a thing, but it would take a very skilled achemist to pull it off. He'd done it himself a few times. There was no denying that he could see no transmutation marks on the wall behind it, though.

'No equivalent exchange.' He thought, then blinked. He shook his head, and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his left hand. He let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding.

"Wonder what they'd think of....how I got here." He said aloud to no one in particular, words echoing a little against the tile. Amestrian rhythm and syllables soothing his ears, helping him put his mind in order. He sat up, and looked at his right metal hand, resting the forearm on his knee. "No. Not yet. I don't even believe it, and I lived through it.. "

'Good thing that Weasley woman is so overprotective that I didn't have to answer too many questions. I know it won't last. They'll want their answers.'

Feeling useless just sitting in the cooling water, he got out of the tub and stood on mismatched feet. And then reached for the offending towel.

Down below. He heard it. Someone screaming in anger. A female. And it was answered with equal fury. A male voice.

Sighing, he toweled himself off, and looked to the pile of blankets and clothes he'd tossed aside. He was the one that insisted he should be left on his own in the bathroom. Shooing the well meaning Mrs. Weasley out as soon as his hand touched the snake shaped door handle. Now, he really hated the idea of putting on the same clothes. They stunk and were dirty from the fight and his sickness.

"Well. Might as well show them some alchemy. See what they do..."

'Maybe get some answers of my own. Like where the hell I am.'

He was really too tired, he knew, to do anything really fancy. And doing alchemy with a concussion was just begging for problems. He lifted up the quilted monstrosity on top, and snorted.

"Magic." He said in a derisive tone, this time, in English. And wrinkled up his nose in disgust at the word's taste on his tongue. He flipped up the quilt and spread it out on a clear spot on the floor. Array and equation pictured in his mind, glowing in brilliance. Then he firmly slapped his hands together. The sharp distinctive sound echoing against the tiles and ringing in his ears.

:::

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