Edward Elric the new Howard teacher

Chapter 8

Edward's POV:

The dungeons of Hogwarts were always cold, but tonight the chill seemed to cut even deeper. After leaving Snape's workshop, I found myself wandering the corridors aimlessly, my mind too cluttered to focus on any one thing. The failed experiment weighed heavily on me. The sight of the scorched wood and cracked metal, the dimmed Stones—it all signaled the gravity of the situation. But what was worse were Snape's parting words, echoing in my mind like a haunting refrain.

"Desperation breeds recklessness. Don't let your fear drive you to make mistakes you can't undo."

I couldn't help but wonder if I was indeed heading down a path from which there would be no return. The Philosopher's Stone, the Sorcerer's Stone—both were relics of immense power and danger. Combining them had felt like trying to merge two opposing forces of nature. And maybe that's exactly what it was—forces that were never meant to be intertwined.

I reached the end of a long, dark corridor and paused. The silence here was almost palpable, pressing down on me from all sides. I leaned against the cold stone wall, closing my eyes as I tried to make sense of my thoughts. It was strange; this world felt both foreign and familiar at the same time. The magic, the secrets—it wasn't unlike my own world, and yet it was different enough to keep me off balance.

And then there was the matter of Magic—this world's version of Truth. A being that I still wasn't entirely sure I understood. It had brought me here, sent me on this mission without much explanation, and now it seemed to be lurking in the shadows, watching, waiting. It was like Truth all over again, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at the thought.

I shook my head, pushing off the wall and beginning to walk again. I couldn't afford to let my emotions get the best of me. There was too much at stake. I needed to figure out what had gone wrong in the experiment, and more importantly, how to fix it. But every time I tried to focus on a solution, my mind kept circling back to the same questions: Why me? Why now? And what did Magic really want from me?

Lost in thought, I didn't notice where my feet were taking me until I found myself standing in front of a door I hadn't seen before. It was an unassuming wooden door, but something about it felt...off. The air around it was charged, as if the space beyond it held something far greater than just another room. I reached out, hesitating for only a moment before grasping the handle and pushing the door open.

The room beyond was dimly lit, the light coming from a single torch mounted on the far wall. The walls were lined with shelves, but unlike Snape's workshop, these shelves held no jars or bottles. Instead, they were filled with old, worn books, their spines cracked and faded from age. The air was thick with the smell of parchment and dust, a scent that was oddly comforting.

In the center of the room stood a single figure, shrouded in darkness. As I stepped inside, the figure turned to face me, and I felt my breath catch in my throat.

It was Magic.

The being looked just as it had the first time I encountered it—a figure draped in long, flowing wizard's robes, the colors shifting and changing like the surface of a calm sea under a twilight sky. Its face, if you could even call it that, was featureless, a void of shifting colors that seemed to reflect my own emotions back at me.

"Edward Elric," Magic said, its voice smooth and calm, like the whisper of wind through the trees. "You have questions."

I swallowed, feeling a mix of anger and frustration welling up inside me. "You could say that," I replied, my voice coming out harsher than I intended. "You brought me here, gave me these materials, set me on this mission—and for what? To watch me fail?"