Myths, Magic, and Alchemy

You Really Put the 'Chief' in 'Mischief'

"blah blah"- Speaking Greek

"blah blah"- Speaking Amestrian

'blah blah'- Thinking

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Fullmetal Alchemist, or Percy Jackson. Good thing too, or they wouldn't be nearly as good as they are now. They belong to J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, and Rick Riordan.

Edward

     Ed had only taught four classes, and he was already completely fed up with all of his 'wizard' students. Every class was the same. They all wanted to know how old he was, if he could really teach them alchemy, and, most importantly, whether or not he was a wizard. Upon finding out that he was fifteen and not a wizard, Ed found that each class had different reactions, sometimes the class divided into two.

     Some of them obviously held a sense of superiority, and looked down their noses at him. Others seemed surprised, but excited. Some looked doubtful, but willing to try, and some just smiled and accepted him. He noticed that the color of their clothing seemed to correlate to what their response was.

     Ed groaned. He had just finished teaching a class of Gryffindor/Slytherin third-years. He had one more class for the day; Gryffindor fifth-years; but he had a free period in-between them. He had been putting off going to the hospital wing all day, but he knew that if he didn't go before dinner then Madame Pomfrey would drag him there by force. She had been shooting him pointed looks all throughout lunch.

     Ed was a bit reluctant to leave his classroom. In here, he was safe from all the crazy magic that was abundant throughout Hogwarts. He was still coping with the fact that he would have to use an owl of all things to send any letters to Al. He also knew that it was only a matter of time before the more bold students starting pranking him with whatever their magic could do. As soon as everyone learned that he couldn't preform magic, they would be sure to take advantage of the fact. The fact that he was the same age or younger than plenty of them wouldn't help matters.

     Ed sighed as he left his classroom and began walking towards the hospital wing. Teaching these kids was going to be hard. Most of them had grown up being able to use magic for every need. The ones who were 'muggle born' would learn the easiest; especially that one Gryffindor third-year who had taken chemistry. Ed wondered about him; he was the only student out of all his classes to have taken chemistry. Ed hoped that he was able to answer the riddle.

     Thinking about the riddle he had given caused Ed to cheer up slightly. 'Half of them probably won't be able to figure it out, so my classes will be cut down at the end of the month.'Ed was interrupted from is speculating when he arrived at the hospital wing. He had barely stepped inside when Madame Pomfrey whisked him over to a bed and began asking a series of rapid-fire questions.

"How are you feeling? Are you limbs hurting? I can provide you with a climate-control spell if you'd like. Do you have a headache? Here, eat some more chocolate." The whole time she was waving her wand around him, presumably checking for any issues.

Ed blinked, trying to keep up with her. "I don't know if using magic on my automail would be the best idea," he said warily. To be completely honest, he didn't fully trust magic. And he knew that Winry would kill him if he messed up his automail with magic of all things.

Madame Pomfrey frowned. "Well, if it gets to be hurting too bad then you come and tell me right away and I'll give you something for the pain, at least. Are you sure that your arm and leg are okay? I haven't ever seen anything like that."

Ed nodded. "They're fine. I doubt that they will be a problem." He stood from the bed. "I should probably be going now, I have another class to teach. I'll come back if I have any problems, I promise!" He added as she opened her mouth to say something else. He hurried out of the room and headed back toward his own classroom.