Edward Elric the new Howard teacher

Chapter 6

Edward's POV:

I was abruptly pulled from sleep by a persistent knock on my door. It was the kind of knock that didn't just demand attention—it insisted upon it, rattling through the silence of the night with an impatience that had my hackles rising. Who would seek me out at this ungodly hour? It could only be a handful of people, but there was just one person I hoped it might be. My mind flashed back to my earlier encounter with the Old Man—it had appeared in Dumbledore's office, where I'd lost my temper. In the midst of that heated exchange, I'd forgotten something crucial.

If I'm going to be stuck here for the next seven years, I'll need a wand. Sure, I'm not even certain if I can perform magic in this world—alchemy is my forte, not casting spells. But a wand might serve as a useful distraction, a cover for my true purpose here. That is, if I can even figure out how to use one.

This reminds me—I still need to check what's in that bag. I haven't really looked through it yet. Magic had that peculiar grin on its face when it handed it to me, the one that seemed to say it knew more than it let on. It's the same kind of grin that Truth used to flash—full of secrets and hidden meanings. My thoughts were interrupted by a voice that sent a jolt of irritation through me.

"Elric! Open this door now! I don't have all day. If you don't open it, I will!" Snape's voice sliced through the quiet, sharp and cold like a winter wind.

I grumbled to myself as I dragged myself out of bed. "Fine, fine. Give me a second to get dressed." My voice was thick with sleep, my mind still muddled from the abrupt wake-up call. I fumbled with my clothes, yanking on my boots with more force than necessary. Finally, I clapped my hands together and pressed them against the door, a small spark of alchemy unlocking it with a click.

The door swung open to reveal a scowling Snape, his dark eyes narrowing as they met mine. I didn't flinch under his gaze; instead, I met his glare with one of my own. I was used to people trying to intimidate me—this was nothing new.

"What do you want?" I snapped, still not fully awake and definitely not in the mood for whatever this was. "I'm still getting ready, so if this isn't urgent, come back in ten minutes." But of course, Snape wasn't in the mood to listen. He pushed past me into the room, his robes billowing out behind him as he shut the door with a sharp click.

"I'm here to deliver your moving portraits. The Old Man insisted you have them," he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. I sighed, wishing I'd had a chance to ask the Old Man about getting a wand. Maybe Snape could help, though I doubted he'd be eager to assist. But he seemed to have his own agenda.

"Elric, are you free this evening?" Snape asked suddenly, his expression unreadable, though his tone carried a hint of something that put me on edge.

"I don't have anything planned yet," I replied cautiously, my mind racing to figure out what he was getting at. "What do you have in mind?"

"I noticed you're missing some essentials—like a wand and a broomstick," he said, a sly smile creeping onto his face. It was clear he was enjoying the fact that I was lacking in this department, the amusement in his eyes betraying the otherwise impassive expression.

"And why does that matter to you?" I snapped, my irritation spiking. The last thing I wanted was to delve into this topic, especially with him.

I expected him to mock me, to relish in my lack of resources, but to my surprise, he looked more irritated than smug.

"Then I have no choice," he muttered under his breath, almost as if speaking to himself, before his eyes locked onto mine with a renewed intensity. "After breakfast, meet me at the front doors at 11 a.m. sharp. Do I make myself clear, Elric?"