Fullmetal…Professor?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. If you're crazy enough to think I did, you're crazy enough to be my friend. Welcome to Mushroom Land.

Summary: Edward Elric didn't think much of people who couldn't be bothered to do their own dirty work. But then, the Gate of Alchemy wasn't really much of a person. When the Fullmetal Alchemist is thrown into a world where equivalent exchange means nothing, he is understandably upset. Desperate, he summons the Gate. However, instead of taking him home or taking his life, the Gate changes the flow of time around Edward and tells him to learn all he can of this world's power; it will summon him when he's ready. Having gained a cryptic message and lost nothing but a few pounds, Edward isn't sure whether his new extremely slowed aging is a loss or a gain. He discovers the world of magic, and gains knowledge and skill in all its aspects. One night while aimlesslessly going through library books, the Gate appears and drops him about eighty years into the future. Arriving just in time to hear of Voldemort's return, he is left with a mission from the Gate itself; destroy Voldemort, who is disrupting the fabric of reality and going against the Gate's law. Once Voldemort is dead, Ed can go home. Edward spends the summer re-acquanting himself with the world, and manages to gain Dumbledore's trust as well as a job. It's Harry Potter's fifth year at Hogwarts, and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is none other than Edward Elric. (Fullmetal Alchemist/Harry Potter crossover)

Now, a word from Edward, the newly titled Fullmetal...Professor?

Yeah, that's right. Got a problem with it? I, Edward Elric, am now in charge of my very own band of stick-waving, gibberish-chanting, gawking little idiots. On top of that, I can't go home to my own world until I help a scar-headed, angst-filled teenager defeat an evil dark lord.

…My life is now complete.

Chapter One: The Alchemist Turned Wizard

'I hate my life. Please, just kill me now.' The thinker of these particular spectacularly morbid thoughts rolled over, coughed weakly, and mumbled something rather unintelligible. One with absolutely excellent hearing and a vast amount of skill in translating gibberish might be able to interpret the mumbling as having something to do with "evil, evil cold weather" and "stupidly vague all-powerful beings that send poor, innocent alchemists to do their dirty work". Said 'poor, innocent alchemist' was currently curled up on his side in the back seat of a rather decrepit and rusted car parked by the sidewalk on one of many London streets, being mercilessly pelted by overlarge raindrops. The constant noise of the water hitting the car roof was keeping him awake, and it had made road conditions so bad he couldn't drive even if he wanted to. And there was no way in hell that he was going to go out in that storm. No way, not Edward Elric. Any other stupid weirdo was free to try.

The Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People and defeater of countless transmuted beasts, soulless monsters (of both human and homunculus kind), and entire crooked organizations had been rendered completely helpless by a simple storm—a bright flash of light followed by a tremendous boom of thunder was produced to add to the growing cacophony. It was admittedly a rather bad storm, especially for the rather mild climate of Great Britain, but regardless, Edward Elric had been defeated by weather; and it was pissing him off. A weak kick was delivered to the door, and more mumbling was directed at the storm outside. As if to spite him, more thunder roared—his closed eyes missed the lightning. The blond alchemist groaned and grabbed two handfuls of his long hair, pulling them across his face to cover his eyes. Most of his hair was tied back in a thin ponytail with two long locks of hair left free to frame his handsome face. He was dressed in a buttoned-up white shirt and black slacks, a long brown coat wrapped around him as a makeshift blanket. To complete the look he wore plain brown shoes, pristine white gloves, and a dark belt.

Edward yawned and stretched, extending his limbs as far as the confines of the car would allow. He was both annoyed and satisfied about the fact that he couldn't stretch out all the way in this small space: annoyed because it meant he was cramped and uncomfortable; satisfied because it meant he had gotten taller. He decided to settle on being annoyed—it fit with the current atmosphere. He wished the rain would let up soon, or at least that the air would get warmer—he was cold, damn it. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him and he swore rather viciously. Even though it had been many years since he had been introduced to the concept, this whole 'magic' thing still felt unnatural. Even though he had come to terms with it, the lack of equivalent exchange still bothered him. He supposed it shouldn't, but he couldn't help it.

He reached his hand into his right-arm sleeve, easily sliding a long, thin piece of dark wood out of its leather holder. Mumbling a few seemingly nonsensical words while making small twitching noises with the hand that held his wand, Edward sighed in relief as he felt a wave of heat flow through him, warming him in a matter of seconds. He slipped the wand back into his sleeve, making sure it was firmly in its ­­­­­­slot before he curled up again and rested his head on the door.

He waited in the backseat of the car for what he thought was probably about an hour, but he was drowsy and his sense of time was off. Just as he was about to fall asleep, his half-awake mind registered the fact that he could barely hear the rain anymore. Raising himself up with a weary groan, he looked out one of the backseat windows as he sleepily ran a gloved hand down his face. Edward grinned smugly when he saw the last tiny drops of rain drizzle on the ground, signaling the end of the storm. He got up with another groan and grabbed the handle of the car door, pulling the thing extra hard incase the old thing was stuck. Hearing the handle click, he grabbed his jacket, pushed the door open, and stepped out into the fresh, post-rain air. Taking a deep breath, the alchemist savored the pleasant smell that entered his nose. He reached his arms into the air, stretching like a cat and sighing in relief as he felt tendons and the like slide back into place. He put on his brown jacket and tugged at it a little to make sure it was on right. Taking a few small steps he opened the driver's-side door, sitting down and pulling the door shut in the same movement. He rested his hands on the steering wheel, shifting his jacket a little so he wouldn't be sitting on a clump of bunched fabric. Edward dug a key out of his pocket, fumbling with it for a moment before sliding it into its slot. He slowly pressed his foot down on the gas pedal and resumed his drive towards the Leaky Cauldron.