AN: Hello everybody. Mayanpaw here! I know that I'm probably making a huge mistake posting this, since my updating speed is horrible enough as it is. But this little idea has been bugging me and on thegirlinred93's urging (thank you, you're amazing) I decided to post this up. Oh and appologies for any mistakes I make concerning the HP universe, it has been a while since I've actually read number 5.
Disclaimer (For the whole story, cause I know that I will forget to put it up) : I do not own FMA or Harry Potter. I have neither the awsome drawing skills of Arakawa or the amazing writing abilities of Rowling. Just writting this for my own fun.
The rain softly pounded on the windows as Dumbledore looked around the cold-feeling room. Despite the roaring fire and the presence of the overly large and crimson phoenix, the room felt as draughty as the horrible weather outside. In fact, to any outsider the room would be described as downright cozy, yet the single sheet of parchment in his hands provided the necessary ice to chill him to the core.
The ministry had, after being informed of the need for another DADA teacher, taken it upon themselves to hire one for him. And it wasn't just any person. They had assigned Dolores Umbridge, one of the worst women possible for the job. She was a stickler for the rules and followed anything that Fudge instructed (to the point where she became like a puppy), so he could see the reasoning for her placement. Yet beneath her sickeningly sweet exterior lay a sinister side. Oh yes, he had heard rumors of her methods and it truly scared him. To top it off, she was a well known bigot, supporting anything pro-pureblood and was openly oppressive to muggle-borns. And with the high number of muggle-borns and half-bloods at the school, he was terrified.
To top it off, he had received a letter of resignation from his last Alchemy teacher, a frail old man, who taught the subject from books. The sad fact was, the man probably knew little to none on the subject and (much like Trelawney) could barely practice the art. However it wasn't that he could blame him. Alchemy was becoming a lost art, much like Latin for the muggles. The only reason that Dumbledore could have any say on the matter was that he had worked with Nicholas Flamel and had been close friends with him up until his death. Yet, unsurprisingly, class numbers were dropping. So Nicolas Brown had sent him his resignation letter, using the excuse that he wanted to travel the world, and had left Dumbledore with one more position to fill.
Unwilling to want to face having to report to the ministry that he was short another teacher, he opted to take a small stroll around the grounds. Casting a simple spell around him, effectively blocking the rain, he walked out onto the deserted fields. The absence of students in the early summer (1st week of July to be exact) gave the whole area an empty, yet peaceful feel. Many of the teachers had gone home, leaving only the house elves, Madame Pomfrey (who wouldn't be leaving for another two weeks), Hagrid, Flich, and himself behind. He paused and looked over the Black Lake, when a crackling, much like the sound of electricity being produced, drew his attention over to the bank of the lake.
A large black circle had appeared in the grainy, grimy sand with such precision that he couldn't doubt the use of magic. Not a single grain of sand was out of place and he could see the intricate designs scattered all throughout the circle. Suddenly the circle lit up, glowing a bright neon blue. Electricity, the same color as the light, sparked out of nowhere, creating glass in the surrounding sand.
The light had become so bright that Dumbledore was forced to turn his head away from the intensity of the lights. When the lights had died down, he turned back. To his shock and horror, a small figure laid in the now distorted circle. He ran over to see who had possibly managed to survive such a phenomenon as that. Once he reached the figures side, he rolled the bloodied, blond figure over. The rain pounding on the boys face, his eyelids fluttered open to reveal the most unusual, amber colored eyes that Dumbledore had ever seen. The boy opened his mouth and a raspy voice called out before he fell back into unconsciousness, "Alphonse…"