"-I expect one page worth of an essay about what YOU (not what your friend) thinks about this phrase means next week: 'One is all, all is one'."

Sounds of quills hastily scratching on parchment filled the room as they took down what their professor said.

"Remember: I know this quote, and what it means, very, very well, so I'll know if you're making your essay up. Think very hard on it, I want this particular lesson ingrained into your thick skulls."

He stared into each student's eyes, making sure they all understood him clearly. Dropping his gaze, he reached into his coat pocket and fished out a large, silver pocket watch with a peculiar insignia of a lion embellished onto it.

5 more minutes.

"Any questions?"

As usual, Hermione Granger's hand shot up into the air.

"Yes, Hermione?"

The witch blushed, seeing as he didn't even have to look up to know she had her hand raised.

"But, sir, how will we know if we get the right answer?"

The blonde man grinned, a small twinkle of knowing evident in his unusually-colored eyes.

"You just will."

Gathering his papers, Professor Elric locked them in the battered, old suitcase he always brought around with him.

"Now, if there are no more questions, class dismissed."

A low murmuring of voices rose, taking place of the silence as everyone filed out of the classroom.

After erasing whatever he wrote on the blackboard, Edward headed for the door stopping suddenly as a paper from his peripheral vision caught his eye.

Stooping down to pick up what apparently was a photograph ('A moving one too.' He thought distastefully) he analyzed it closer to determine who it belonged t-ah.

Old scars reopened, pain he tried so hard to forget gripping his chest as he recognized one of the people in the picture.

"Of course she would have a double in this world…" he whispered to himself as he looked down at the smiling face of his mother.

Wait, no, not his mother. He did not know this woman at all.

This woman was not the one who used to wake him up every morning.

This woman was not the one who had cooked the best stew in the world.

This woman was not the one who instilled into him the importance of family first.

This woman was not the one who carried him home every time he hurt himself while playing outside.

This woman was not his mother.

But that soft smile, those gentle eyes…exactly like how Trisha Elric's used to be.

The loud slamming of shoes against marble floor broke through his reminiscing.

"Professor! Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you happened to find a picture, it's really important to me and-oh, you found it."

So this photo belonged to Potter…

"Who's this in the photo, Harry?"

The boy looked at Edward with slight suspicion at the sudden question, but after seeing nothing but a purely curious look, Harry answered, also looking down at the person that rested under Edward's gloved finger.

"My mum: Lily Potter."

Lily...even in this world, she had a beautiful name.

"And the man beside her would be your father, yes?"


"I would've said it was obvious because you look very much like him, but I assume you get that too much?"

Edward smiled down at him, empathizing, as if he knew exactly how it felt.

Harry shuffled awkwardly.

"Err…Professor? I'm going to be late for potions…so…"

"O-of course, of course. Here…"

The photograph was handed to him. Harry pretended not to notice the way the alchemist's hand trembled.

Taking the picture and gingerly sandwiching it back between his books, a question surfaced Harry's mind, quickly tumbling out before he could process it and realize how strange it sounded, seeing as the Professor was only a few years older than him.

"Did you meet her too?"

Edward looked startled.


"I-I was just wondering, sir, your expression looked like you'd met her before, but I should've used common sense because, of course, you're not much older than me-"

He was cut off when Edward started chuckling, albeit without humor.

"Well, I've got to hand it to you, Potter, your observation skills seem quite practiced, though there's still room for more experience."

Before Harry could feel peeved at the professor having subtly insulted him, Edward explained himself.

"But to answer your question, no, I have never met your mother, it's just that she reminds me very much of someone."

He paused, giving Harry a second to weigh his options before deciding to chance it and ask another, slightly more personal, question.


He internally prepared himself for a "Aren't you going to be late?" or "That's none of your business." any kind of brush-off, actually.

But what he DIDN'T expect was for Edward's usual hard mask to drop my little, enough for his gaze to soften and a sad smile to come through.

"My own mother. She died when I was young, too."

Clearing his throat, Edward patted Harry's shoulder in what the boy thought was supposed to be a comforting manner but came out a little like a small shove.

"Anyway, you got your picture now, so you better hurry before that Potions Master of yours finds a reason to give you detention-you know how he is."

He winked before giving Harry a light push out the door and in the direction he was supposed to go.

Turning the other way, Edward finally allowed his emotions to overcome him, his eyes and throat aching from having to hold everything back.

'Pathetic.', he told himself as he felt the tears leave cold, wet trails down his face, 'No control whatsoever.'

After shutting the door to his private quarters softly and setting his suitcase down on the desk littered with papers and books, he opened the small box at the foot of his bed and removed a glass and multiple large bottles of whiskey.

"Sorry, mom. I know you never liked seeing people drinking these kinds of things…"

Edward poured a small amount of the liquor into his glass, reconsidered it for a moment, and then filled it to the brim.

Raising the whiskey-filled glass to upwards, he toasted to the ceiling.

"…but it's killing me to know, that even in this world, you didn't live long enough for me to find you and get to say 'I'm sorry' in person, even if you wouldn't recognize me…"

His golden eyes glazed over as he stared, unseeing, into the clear, light brown liquid that he swirled around in the glass.

"I shouldn't have hoped. I should never have let myself get even a little bit excited at the thought of seeing your smile again…"

He downed everything in one go, the whiskey leaving a burning feeling as it slid quickly down his throat, heading for his brain and the rest of his body.

"I just never learn, do I?"

Again and again, he drank through half of the bottles, cursing his ability to hold his liquor well.

On the seventh bottle, he poured himself another glass, giving another toast before raising the glass to his lips.

"The longer I stay in this damned world, the more I feel like my mind is slipping from me, leaving this empty, black hole…"

He closed his eyes and let himself dream of the home he left behind.

"Am I finally going insane, mom?"

Then he tipped the drink into his mouth, smiling as he felt the familiar numbness finally start to settle, unconsciously pouring himself more drink.

He always ended up with an empty bottles in the morning.

HUWOAAAH. It's been quite a while since I've posted anything, huh? _

Really sorry, guys! A huge writer's block has been haunting me, and I can only get rid of it in short bursts. It really sucks.

A lot's been going on in my personal life too, and my self-esteem and self-confidence are at quite an all time low, but I'm getting better.

Hope you like this random, x-over one-shot (I've been reading quite a lot of crossovers recently, actually) and I actually thought that I could actually form a multi-chap from this, the only trouble being I'm not as much an HP fan, so I can't really write a good x-over unless I'm well versed in both HP and FMA…

Anyhoo, thanks for reading and I hoped you enjoyed!

-Corsiva V.