The alarm clock blared shrilly, the sound piercing straight through Ed's brain.

"Ugh," she said eloquently.

The heavy warmth at her back shifted as Roy shuffled away under the covers, burying his head underneath the pillow and murmured, voice coming out muffled against the bedding, "Too early."

"Ugh," Ed answered, because her brain was still sleeping and swung her right hand against the clock as hard as she could while her muscles were still laden with sleep. It shattered.

"You break it, you fix it," said Roy, because he was a bastard even half-asleep. Ed sometimes wondered why she dated him. Or had agreed to marry him. Possibly, she was as crazy as Darius and Heinkel claimed.

"Go fuck yourself," Ed said, and reluctantly pushed away the covers, only to hiss out a startled breath as the cold air rushed in. Shivering, she reached out and groped over the floor, looking for anything to wear since Roy might actually set her on fire if she took the sheets on one of his rare mornings off, when he could actually sleep in. She managed to grab some bunched-up fabric and drag it in front of her eyes for inspection. Roy's shirt, she realised, and shrugged. Good enough.

She pointedly ignored the shattered remains of the clock and shuffled downstairs, determining that any kind of alchemy could wait until she had at least two cups of coffee in her system. She could probably scrounge up an array to fix it – she'd broken the clock enough times to have it memorized – but she couldn't be bothered right now and the lack of caffeine was making her cranky enough that ignoring Roy's order satisfied the pettiness she was feeling.

Half an hour later, Ed was sipping at the second cup of coffee – after chugging the first one fast enough to burn her tongue – and chewing on burnt toast, when Roy's footsteps announced his arrival. He was looking pitiful enough, with his mess of a hair and rumpled shirt he must've dug out of the hamper, that Ed wordlessly filled another cup and slid it across the table in his direction.

"I love you," Roy declared as his fingers closed around warm ceramic.

Ed cursed herself for blushing. "Only because I make you coffee."

"Oh, it's not only that; you also make spectacular daiquiris."

"Your warm regard for me as a person is touching."

"Don't be like that, Ed; you know I miss you desperately when you're gone."

There was a slight, significant pause at his words, which were full of too much feelings for early-morning banter. Roy's face smoothed out in a way that meant he was hiding a grimace, and Ed actually scowled. "It's too early for your fluffy lovey-dovey shit, Roy."

Roy raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into beginnings of a smirk. "Lovey-dovey?"

"What?" said Ed defensively. "It's a word."

"If you say so," Roy hummed, finishing off the dregs of his coffee. He rose from his seat, grabbing Ed's empty cup as he passed her and putting them in the sink to be washed later. Raking a hand through his sleep-mussed hair, he sighed. "When do you have to leave?"

Ed glanced at the clock and did some quick calculations about time differences. She grimaced. "Now. I've got a class in two hours and I need to get ready." The fifth years were finally good enough to start on basic arrays, and like hell was she teaching that lesson via lecture. That shit had to be learned through experience, and Ed was already lamenting at the countless hours she was going to lose watching the brats try to transmute water into ice.

"You better get dressed then," Roy said.

"Right," Ed sighed, rubbing her forehead before she rose from her seat. She glanced at Roy curiously as he casually followed her upstairs, but chose not to comment when he graced her with a guileless look. Whatever. He was always especially clingy when she was about to leave.

As she passed the nightstand, Ed clapped almost absentmindedly and placed her hand in the middle of the shattered metallic pieces littering the wooden surface. With a brief crackle of alchemic discharge, the alarm clock was whole again, marked, as always, by faint traces of transmutation. By now, it was a permanent modification.

Roy sighed. "I wish you would stop breaking it."

Ed scowled and started to rummage around the closet. She needed to find a thicker coat – it was getting really cold back in Hogwarts, though it would still take some time for the temperature to reach the Briggs-level of sub-zero. "Hey, at least I've never torched it beyond repair."

Roy had the grace to look abashed, though not particularly regretful. Ed had always maintained that her method of silencing the alarm was better – at least she could fix it when it was broken.

"Aha!" she exclaimed as she finally managed to grab her winter – or, better yet, it's-time-to-visit-Briggs-hope-Olivier-doesn't-kill-me – coat.

Roy frowned. "Is it very cold in Hogwarts right now? Do you need to change your automail?"

"Nah," Ed shook her head, grabbing clean pants and slipping them on. Leather was the best; leather didn't snag on metal. "I'm all kitted up for cold; Winry insisted." She kind of liked the lightweight version better anyway – sure, it packed less of a punch, but it was so much lighter, and she could always transmute the carbon into Greed's ultimate defence.

The fucker would have been so smug if he knew Ed was still using his little trick.

Ed swallowed and focused determinedly on the thick jumper Roy was handing her. "You got anything to do today, bastard?"

Roy offered her a smile. "I managed to arrange a free morning, but I have to go in after lunch. The Ishvalan representatives should be here to discuss the new railroad system."

"Say hi to Miles for me. And tell Scar to fuck off if he's gonna be there. Oh, and that Mei wrote, she's coming to the wedding so he better be there or she'll kick his ass."

"Of course you invited him. He tried to kill you once," Roy said, but he didn't seem all that opposed. Ed knew he would have invited Scar even if she hadn't.

"If I have to suffer through the whole three-ring circus, so does everyone else." Why couldn't they just get some civil official to marry them, have a party and fuck off to Creta for a honeymoon, Ed didn't know. She'd made a mistake of mentioning the possibility once, and Al had gasped in horror while Winry'd hit her with a wrench. At least Roy was as disgruntled as she was – Breda had made it a point to comment that the whole thing would help Roy's public image immensely and now he seemed determined to prove to Ed that politics wasn't the reason he wanted to get married.

It was kind of sweet of him. Weird, since Ed already knew that, but sweet.

"You don't have to sound as if marrying me is a chore," Roy grumbled, apparently deciding he might as well get dressed while he was at it, instead of loitering and pretending he wasn't miserable to see her go. His voice was muffled by his shirt as he was pulling it on over his head.

Ed snorted, tying the laces of her ass-kicking boots. Actually, most of her boots were excellent in a fight, but these ones were special – they had steel toes. "Marrying you isn't a chore, bastard, even though that probably means I'm crazy. The whole –" Ed motioned wildly with her hand. "– hullabaloo about the wedding is."

"I suppose it's a bit overwhelming," Roy agreed.

"Whatever. We'll get through it and then we'll fuck off to some beach in Creta and leave the rest of them to deal with the clean-up. See how they like it."

Roy laughed. "Well, they'll have no one but themselves to blame, I suppose." He neglected to put on his shoes, watching her as she shrugged on her coat and fished out the ugly bracelet that served as her transport. "You ready, Ed?"

"Yeah," Ed said, standing on the tips of her toes to give him a kiss on the check. "I'll write soon – I bet Dumbledore's gonna try to sweet-talk me to the dark side as soon as he can get me alone."

"You make it sound so scandalous," said Roy, fondly.

Ed grimaced. "Fuck, Roy. That's nasty."

Roy grinned at her discomfort, the absolute freaking bastard. Ed was definitely crazy for dating him, Darius and Heinkel were totally right. "I'll be ready for the negotiations when you need me. I might even be able to take a day or two off just to get it over with."

Oh, and he'll have fun doing it too, since the freak actually liked the manipulative stuff. At least he'll be happy. "Well I'll see you soon then." Ed offered him a smile. "Lemon drops."

The tugging sensation behind her navel was as uncomfortable as it had been all the other times she'd done this. The world around her ceased to exist in a completely unnerving fashion that added uneasiness to the nausea accompanying the trip. Ed closed her eyes and kinda, almost regretted not believing in god – praying seemed like a good option right now.

When the world became real again, Ed felt her knees giving out, and she fell to the ground trying not to puke, cursing internally all the while, because fuck wizards, and fuck magic, and, most of all, fuck the fucking portkeys.

It took her a few seconds to put herself together and climb to her feet. At least the brisk trek to the castle would be enough to clear her head.

Ed reached the Entrance Hall in record time, mostly because it really was that cold and she had no intention of enduring it for longer than she had to. The castle was quiet – breakfast was still in progress and there was some time still before classes started. Ed hoped she would manage to reach her classroom without disruptions.

"Good morning, Edith," said Albus Dumbledore from behind her, because her luck was just that bad.

Ed turned, scowling. He hadn't been there just a second ago, which meant he had someone spying on her comings and goings – the portraits, probably, because who else? – and that he had a reason for cornering her. She vaguely remembered he'd wanted to talk to her before she'd left to Amestris.

Would he really give her a recruitment spiel in front of the Great Hall?

"Hey, old man," Ed nodded stiffly.

Albus smiled. "I trust that everything is well in Amestris?" he asked, because of course he was not going to get to the point right away. Fucking manipulative bastards, they were all exactly the same.

"Yeah, everything's great. I don't have time to chat, though, I gotta get ready for class."

"Of course, of course, dear girl." He completely ignored Ed's murmured 'not your dear anything'. "I do wish to speak with you, though. Could you maybe find some time to visit me after your classes?"

Apparently, they weren't talking about potentially classified information in the middle of corridor where anyone could hear. Great. Common sense, at last. "Sure. I'll be in your office around six."

"Wonderful," he said. "I shan't keep you any longer then. I heard you have something special planned for your class today." Chuckling to himself, he wandered off.

Sometimes, Ed missed the good old days when all the problems could be solved by punching megalomaniacal old men in the face.

"Since all of you have finally managed to pass the test –" No one missed Elric's pointed looks in Ron and Hannah Abbott's directions. Ron looked down, ears going as red as his hair. "– and most of you managed to draw a circle to my satisfaction, I've decided that we can begin with some basic transmutations."

There was a sudden rise in noise in the classroom as the students shifted in their seats, murmuring to each other. Harry exchanged excited looks with Ron and Hermione – they'd been learning theory for months now, and he'd began to believe he'd never see the day they would start on something interesting.

Elric paced in the front of the classroom, as restless as ever. "Everyone's got a little bowl in front of them. I want you to use one of your cute little spells and fill it with water. We're doing water-to-ice transmutation."

"Water to ice?!" Terry Boot burst out, voicing their collective indignation. "But we can do that with a first-year spell!"

Elric blinked, looking confused. "Yeah, so?"

"But that's so… easy."

"Well, yeah, that's the point. Like hell I'm giving you anything you can fuck up. I'd even say there's no way for this to go wrong, but I know better by now." She ignored the sheepishness now permeating the classroom. "Spells. Now!"

"Aguamenti," Harry murmured, his words echoed by all the students in class. Elric watched in approval as all the bowls were filled with clean water.

"Right," she said and moved to stand in front of her desk, on which there was an already-filled bowl identical to theirs. "Water-to-ice transmutation is one of the easiest transmutations exactly because you won't be doing much. You don't actually need to change the composition of water, only the structure. Liquid to solid. Fluid to crystal. Very easy. Basic."

She fished out a piece of chalk out of her pocket and scribbled something onto the wooden surface around the bowl – Harry assumed it was a transmutation circle, though he couldn't see it very well from his seat. Hermione was craning her neck in attempt to catch a glimpse of it.

There was a brief crackle of blue lightning, like the first time they'd seen Elric use alchemy, and suddenly the water in her bowl turned into a small sculpture – a lunging gargoyle, its sharp teeth trained in their direction. It was not as awe-inspiring as the exact replica of Hogwarts castle, but a hush fell over the class nevertheless.

"There," she said, voice filled with satisfaction. "You won't be able to make sculptures for some time, of course. Maybe even months. Or years; I don't know how normal people do it."

Hermione's hand was in the air before Harry could even think to be offended by Elric's casual dismissal. "But why, Professor?"

Elric was apparently in a good enough mood to forgo her usual cold glare in the direction of the trio. "You're beginners, really. You don't have the necessary experience to guide the alchemic energy in a way that would be useful to you. That takes practice, nothing else for it." She tapped her fingers on her desk in thought. "I suppose you could also simply include the shape you want water to take when writing the circle, but that's just too complicated. And wasteful – since the circle doesn't know how to behave, you would have to write in every single detail of your sculpture, and that's just unnecessarily complex. Possible, but not worth it; that's why nobody actually does it that way."

"Oh," Hermione said, disappointed, before her face went quietly determined. Harry wasn't Trelawney, but he foresaw a lot of alchemic practice in his immediate future.

Elric tapped the circle on her desk almost absentmindedly and, with a brief crackle of lightning, the ice melted back into water. Harry found Elric's nonchalance almost as impressive as the actual transmutation.

"Go on, then," Elric said. "You've got all the notes and we went over all the basic symbols. I want you to construct your own circles. Think about what's needed for the transmutation and incorporate it in your work – I told you how to do it already, and you won't get any better without practice." She aimed a stern, golden-eyed glare in their direction. "If I see any one of you trying to activate a circle without my approval, I'll stop the lesson immediately, give you a detention and throw you out from my class. It's unlikely you'll get a rebound from a transmutation this easy, but if I see any bad habits, you'll never learn anything interesting." After a pause she added, as if she'd forgotten, "And don't copy. I'll know if you do. Still, I suppose working together is fine for now until you get the hang of it."

There was a sudden shuffling of papers as everyone reached for their notes, all of them filled with nervous energy. Even Harry, who found himself disliking Elric more often than not, was excited to finally start learning something in her class. Something fun.

Harry had to give it to her, though, Elric mostly knew what she was doing when she was teaching them. Even though she claimed that the textbook was rubbish, she didn't leave them hanging – she'd written everything relevant on the board so they would have detailed notes and regularly handed out copied charts and diagrams to make it easier for them to visualize all the abstract reactions she tried to explain.

As he leafed through his notes, Harry was really thankful for the hard work he'd had to put in this subject just to pass. He found himself surprised to actually remember basic symbols Elric had forced them to learn – water was one of the easiest and most malleable elements the symbols would work for, and was, as such, quite a good start, even he knew that.

Drawing the actual circle was the easy part – they'd been practicing for weeks as Elric handed out weekly quizzes for those who didn't pass and lectured them on the basics of alchemy. His wasn't as neat, or as quickly drawn, as Elric's, but it was a decent circle and it would serve his purpose. The symbols, on the other hand…

"An upside-down triangle is for water, right?" Harry murmured, and received a distracted hum of approval from Hermione, who was scribbling busily on her parchment. The four elements were simple to remember, though Harry could hardly think of how to incorporate it in the circle without accidentally writing a reaction for earth.

Ron scratched his nose with his quill, leaving a faint trail of ink across his skin. "Suppose the middle would be okay?" he asked. "Don't see another option, really."

"I suppose," Hermione said hesitatingly. "Oh, honestly, Ron, do try to be a little less of a mess, would you?" With a flick of her wand the black mark vanished from Ron's face, leaving him rubbing huffily at his reddened nose. Hermione returned to her notes. "But I think you're right – it should be fine as long as we don't break the triangle."

"I can't remember the process we want, though," Harry admitted.

"Water-to-ice is crystallization, Harry, and it really is rather easy – Professor Elric made a good choice. We'll need to use congelation. Does anyone remember he symbol? I can't seem to find the right notes."

Ron shuffled through few of the pieces of parchment. "It's Taurus," he said, and scribbled it down.

"Do we need to add a temperature component?" Hermione wondered.

Even though they worked together, they didn't manage to finish it before the class ended. Nobody did, actually, now that Harry was looking – some, like Neville or Zabini had come close, but Elric hadn't allowed anyone to activate their circles.

"Good enough for now," Elric commented as she saw their work. It took her less than a second to evaluate it and Harry, who was exhausted from constant back-and-forth with Ron and Hermione and the endless calculation this seemingly easy transmutation required, offered her a weak scowl. She ignored him. "You worked together, then? Glad to see you three brats can put your mind to something useful for a change." With that, she swanned off, pretending not to notice Hermione's furious blush and Ron and Harry attempting to light her coat on fire with the force of their glares alone.

Elric reached her customary place in front of the classroom and leaned against her desk. She clapped, gaining their attention. "Right. I'm pleasantly surprised to say you weren't completely awful today." Everyone brightened. "I'm not expecting it to stay that way, but who the fuck knows? I deserve a break." There were some grumblings, but generally almost everyone stayed silent. They'd learned to listen when Elric spoke; they regretted it when they didn't. "I think I'll allow you to work on your circles alone until the next class. But," she raised a hand, forestalling any argument, "you're not allowed to activate them without my supervision. I'll tell the old man and Minnie too, so they'll be on lookout. You break this rule, I'll kick you out." And with that cheerful threat she shooed them away.

"This was fun," Hermione said as they scrambled out of the room. Her smile was exhausted, but filled with delight.

"Fun?" Ron groaned. "You're nuts, 'Mione."

"I feel like my brain's gone through a blender," Harry said at Hermione's hopeful look. The amount of thinking alchemy required just for the simple circle – the simplest one actually, Elric had said – was unbelievable.

Ron scratched his forehead. "What's a blender?"

"Er, a muggle thing. For preparing food."

"It's used to mix food, Ron," Hermione said. "But yes, this was very complicated. Do you understand now why it would be great if Elric joined the Order?"

"Yeah," Harry grumbled. He really didn't like her – she was arrogant and dismissive and petty, but she'd also upended the whole floor just for a demonstration in a few seconds. After trying to design an alchemic circle – with help and hell of a more time than she'd used, if he was being honest – he knew intimately just how complicated that had been. And she did it without even thinking. Harry could grudgingly admit that kind of skill would be very useful to have on their side.

"It's not like it's important, though," Ron shrugged. "Someone would actually have to talk her into joining in the first place."

Harry snorted at the thought of anyone talking Elric into anything. It was too ridiculous to even think about.

"We'll just have to make it without her."

Severus didn't know why he was here.

Here, being Albus' office, sitting in one of his ridiculously patterned, plump armchairs and waiting for Edith to show up so they – meaning Albus – could convince her to join a war she had nothing to do with. By the frown marring Minerva's features, she was having similarly confused thoughts, though both of them were sure this was Albus' doing, somehow.

Albus was smiling beatifically.

"Albus," Minerva said, "you don't actually intend to ask Edith to join the Order today?"

"Is there any point in delaying it, my dear?" Albus asked, twinkling.

Severus snorted. "Perhaps you should wait to ambush her when she's not only just come back from a different country and after the whole day of classes with the damn brats. I imagine she's not in the mood for you."

"On the contrary," Albus said, and, sometimes, Severus really wanted to punch the smile off his face, "I'm reliably informed that her classes went very well today indeed, and that she's been more than agreeable through the day. I cannot think of a better time to speak with her."

"Albus!" Minerva hissed, looking very much like her Animagus form. Severus really had to wonder what had happened between Edith and her to make her so protective – though, he supposed, Minerva might be acting on pure instinct; Edith was so clearly meant to be a Gryffindor. "Are you spying on one of our teachers?"

"Of course he is," Severus said, not without some bitterness tempered by Slytherin pragmaticism. Even though Albus trusted him unconditionally these days, he was fairly sure that he had been closely monitored back after the war had ended. It would have been a logical, smart thing to do – the fact did not make it sting less. "And after last year, could you blame him?"

Minerva went quiet, lips tinning. The entirety of the last year had been a disaster, and not only because of Potter's participation in the Triwizard Tournament and its bloody ending – quite a number of the current staff was familiar with Alastor Moody and not one of them had noticed anything wrong with him, not even his good friend Albus Dumbledore. Barty Crouch Jr had been an exceptional actor.

"I hardly think Edith is a Death Eater under Polyjuice," Minerva tried to protest, though it was half-hearted at best. "It would be impossible to fake her level of skill, even if they'd somehow managed to acquire an alchemist."

Severus had to agree. He knew almost nothing about alchemy studied inside the Ward – though the stories of the State Alchemists of Amestris had hardly passed him by – but the ease with which Edith wielded her art was enough to convince anyone she was exceptionally skilled.

Still, he was somewhat curious. "What do the portraits report?"

Albus looked at him in faint disapproval before giving in. "For privacy reasons, I allow only the portraits in the public areas to observe her." As many flaws as Albus had, Severus knew the man tried to provide at least a little bit of normalcy to his students and teachers; he would have never ordered someone observed in their private quarters unless absolutely necessary. And Edith, although almost certainly some kind of spy from Amestris, was hardly suspect enough to warrant such a breach of trust. "As far as they can tell, she is exactly as she portrays herself to be – diligent teacher, rude but respectful person and, judging by our last conversation before she left, extremely loyal to her family." He peeked at them over the rim of his golden spectacles, blue eyes piercing. "I didn't doubt in her or Fuhrer Mustang, of course, but it is preferable to know what kind of person we're dealing with first hand." Flicking a glance at the door, he smiled. "And I suggest we abandon the subject for now; my wards are warning me someone is coming up."

Edith, wonder of wonders, did not slam the door open. Severus raised an eyebrow at her appearance; she did not look exhausted or sick, not exactly, but there was a drawn quality to her face that suggested she had had a long day and wanted it over with. The scowl flickering at the edge of her mouth deepened when she noticed who else was in the room.

"An ambush, eh?" she said, and threw herself into one of the armchairs with casual ease. "Who would've thought?"

"Edith –" Minerva said, but Edith waved her away.

"I doubt it was your idea, Minnie; you're better than that," she said, training her piercing golden eyes on Albus colourful form. "What did you want to talk about, old man?"

Albus smiled genially. He seemed to enjoy Edith's irreverent attitude more and more as time passed, though Severus could not discern why. Probably one of his strange peculiarities – Albus was not known as one of the most eccentric wizards in Britain for nothing. "Just to talk, my dear. I've an offer for you."

"Yeah?" Edith said, canting her head and looking at them, narrow-eyed. She did not look particularly surprised and Severus had not expected her to, not really – as blunt and straightforward as she was, she was too clever to stay blind to political manoeuvring behind the scenes. He doubted she knew what exactly they wanted from her and why, but she must have suspected they would try to recruit her eventually – she was too valuable an asset to be left alone for long.

"Yes," Albus said. He steepled his fingers in front of his chin and twinkled at her. Edith did not look impressed. "Considering the happening of last June, your familiarity with matters of war and defence and your foray into fighting against the Death Eaters during the Hogsmeade weekend, I wondered if you might consider joining the Order of the Phoenix? We would be glad to offer you a membership."

"The what?" Edith asked, though she hardly bothered to hide suspicion from her face – she must have an inkling already, at least.

"The Order of the Phoenix. It's a group of wizards, myself amongst them, who fight for freedom against Voldemort." Albus made is sound much more important and efficient than it truly was, Severus noted grimly, though that was probably for the best. "I suppose we're vigilantes, in a way," Albus continued, chuckling, and if that wasn't meant to appeal to Edith's inherent lack of respect for authority, Severus would eat his own shoes. "The Ministry is, as you know, refusing to accept Voldemort's return. We are Britain's only line of defence, I fear."

Edith scoffed. "That doesn't say good things about your country, you know. Not that I can judge and all, but at least our government was infiltrated, not incompetent."

Albus offered her a questioning smile. The little titbits about Amestrian politics he was not well-equipped enough to understand must have grated on his nerves. "I'm afraid I don't see the relevance of the comment. Are you declining our invitation?"

"It's relevant," Edith said, snorting, "because if your government's useless, I can't think you're all that much better." She ignored their protests and forged on with determined bull-headedness. "And our invitation? You're the only one talking to me, Albus. Minnie and Severus said nothing. Is that how you do it in your precious Order?"

"Of course not," Severus lied expertly; the truth was, while they all had some choice in how the Order was run, the last word always fell to Albus and everyone knew it. It wasn't helped by the fact that Albus had a habit of keeping important information from them if he deemed it wiser not to share it; it was, of course, understandable move when the enemy could have spies in their camp or simply read the mind of or compel those with less rigorous mental training. Still, the Order was a far cry from egalitarian democracy Albus was determined to portray it as. "All of us can speak our mind. But we thought it better for the offer to come from our leader." Severus sneered expertly. "But you're not satisfied with that are you? I'm afraid we can't offer you anything better."

"Don't put words into my mouth just because you can't come up with an answer," Edith bristled and turned her gaze in Minerva's direction. "Minnie? What do you think?"

Minerva was generally not a very expressive woman despite being a Gryffindor, but Severus knew her well enough to notice the slightest bit of hesitation on her face as she pondered the question. And then, lips tinning, she said, "I think you would be of great help to us, Edith. I hope you'll at least listen to our offer." The grip she had on her armrest was white-knuckled – she liked Edith enough not to want her involved in their war. She was also smart and pragmatic enough to recognize her potential usefulness, but still hesitant to demand it.

Edith gazed at her for one long moment before she allowed her shoulders to drop, sighing. "Oh, fine, whatever," she said. "Doesn't hurt to listen, I suppose. What do you want exactly, old man? I'm too tired for games."

Albus' smile was beatific. "Of course, of course, Edith. I'll get to the point, then." He allowed his face to take on a solemn expression he wore only when he wanted to be taken seriously. It aged him, suddenly, and Severus was hit with the fact that Albus was old even for a wizard of his considerable power. It was an unsettling realization. "As you know, a dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort has returned after being destroyed by Harry Potter fourteen years ago." Severus' sneer at Potter's name was reflexive after all this time, but no less genuine. "The Ministry is, I'm afraid, too scared to admit it and I cannot blame them; Voldemort and his followers had done such horrifying things during the last war. No one would wish to believe he's back again." He shrugged. "And so we are forced to work in the shadows, preparing and helping where we can. I can only hope it will be enough."

Edith's eyebrows had been steadily rising higher and higher during the speech. "And you're doing what again? Don't think I haven't noticed that you actually didn't say anything important."

Albus smiled. It was a bland, polite smile that hid a sudden upswell of irritation beneath. Usually, he did not like to be questioned. "We are too few still to make a considerable difference, but we are doing what we can; I've already alerted the general public to the danger, and the Order has started recruiting allies from abroad. We have been trying to come in contact with various creature communities in Europe, but as they're not generally well-disposed towards wizards, we can rest easy in knowledge that even if we do not gain them as allies, Death Eaters would have even less of a chance." A pause, significant and all showmanship, followed. "And, of course, we're guarding an important weapon in the Ministry to prevent it from reaching Voldemort's grasp."

That finally caught Edith's attention. She leaned forward, suddenly intent. "A weapon?"

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you of its nature. The information is available only to the Order members, and I should think you would understand the need for secrecy."

Edith snorted, and even after Albus' oh-so-very-pretty speech, she seemed almost disdainful. "So you're telling me that you're a group of a dozen or so people, scrambling for allies and not finding them, unable to properly alert the public to danger they're in, even though that should be your number one priority, unwilling to share possibly important information with potential allies and, with all that, still trying to protect some mysterious weapon in a potentially hostile environment without trying to obtain it for yourself and hide it for safekeeping." Put like that, Severus had to admit, they sounded like a bunch of morons. "Let's be real, you're not even worth the effort of joining up."

Severus sneered. He knew that the Order was not the best there could be, he knew there were far too many flaws with their system, and that they could only do so much. But none of that – none of their faults or errors or mistakes – allowed Edith – who had not lived in the oppressive atmosphere of the last war, who did not know what it was like not to trust your closest friend or a man sitting beside you, or how it felt to constantly live in fear of another ambush, of spells and curses coming out of thin air – any right to judge them for their fight right now. At least they were fighting. "If you're going to ridicule us for our efforts, Elric, when we are essentially under siege, I suggest you do it elsewhere, where I cannot hear it, lest I be tempted to curse you more than I already am."

So concentrated on riling up Albus, Edith shot him a surprised and grudgingly impressed look at his threat.

"Severus," said Minerva, firmly, though the lack of true disapproval in her words meant he was far from cowed. "Edith. I know you are used to operating on a different scale in Amestris, though I can hardly guess on the magnitude of it, but here in Britain, we simply have no resources to do better." It was not hard to guess why Albus had requested Minerva to be here for this conversation – Edith was actually listening to her. "And I truly think you should join, Edith. As you said, we're not the best we could be. Perhaps you can help with that." And with a subtle sigh, and a slight pause that meant she was about to lay down her trump card, Minerva continued, "If not for us, perhaps you might consider it for the children."

Edith sat up, her golden eyes suddenly blazing sharply. "Are the brats in danger?"

"You're not that stupid," Severus said, picking up where Minerva left off, and pressing on one of Edith's biggest buttons – she truly wanted the students to be safe. "Half of them have parents on one side of the war or the other; if they don't get injured during their Hogwarts years as the war heats up –" Severus remembered his own tension-filled time in school with bitterness; even before they'd graduated, the sides had already been picked. "– they'll certainly be recruited right out of school. Children will fight in this war, and you want to do nothing. Because it doesn't concern you."

The moments that followed were filled with tense silence as Edith sat still, like a golden statue in their midst. She did not seem offended, though her hands were tightly clenched. She observed Severus with something like curiosity in her eyes. "I'm not saying yes," she said, and Albus smiled. She caught it, and shook her head. "Listen to me, old man, I can't say yes. I'm a citizen of Amestris, and connected to the military – I should not even consider fighting in another country's war."

"I do not see why Fuhrer Mustang needs to be involved," Albus tried, though they all knew it wouldn't work – they've gotten their ally, now they needed to actually make sure she could help them. "Surely you can act on your own initiative. He trusts you."

"Yeah, he does," Edith said, drawn out and slow, like Albus was an idiot. "Because I don't betray him. You want my help, you're going to renegotiate my contract with Mustang. No way in hell I'm going behind his back. I like Minerva, but not that much."

Minerva, interestingly, looked a mix between strangely touched and fondly exasperated.

Albus sighed. "Very well. When can we begin the negotiations?"

"Whatever works, old man," Edith shrugged. "Just give us a warning a few days in advance so we can prepare. The fucker is running a country after all."

Albus ignored the casual insult to a leader of a country with considerable aplomb. "Perhaps during the holidays might work for you? My responsibilities are lesser during that time, but I suppose that Fuhrer Mustang would want to spend Christmas with his family."

Edith frowned. "What's Christmas?"