Chapter Text
It wasn’t that Lan Fan hated Greed. She hated the idea of some vaguely demonic entity possessing the body of her prince, limiting his autonomy, making his chi feel rotten and wrong with all the excess souls. She didn’t get the chance to really know Greed as a person- erm, homunculus before everything went down, but the little she saw of him painted the picture of someone crass, possessive, and in desperate need of an ego check.
And then the Promised Day started. And he fought Wrath, he urged her to forget him and help Grandfather, not knowing he already… He honored Ling’s request to protect the gate, their chi mingling and merging in a way that didn’t feel entirely natural, and yet, at the same time, completely expected.
And then he gave his life to save Ling’s.
Ling had been upset about that.
Lan Fan didn’t understand that, but she didn’t need to understand to know that Ling had been hurt by the sacrifice. Her memories of his reign over Xing were fuzzy, as was everything that followed the Promised Day, but she didn’t think those feelings of grief ever went away. Somehow, in those few short months, Ling had grown attached to the entity that made his soul a home, and their separation caused a tear he never healed from.
As much as part of her wanted to, Lan Fan couldn’t hate someone that was clearly so important to Ling.
Except now he was back and more annoying than ever.
Lan Fan didn’t think such a thing should be possible. Well, reincarnation and retained memories not withstanding, because clearly none of this was natural. But, Greed especially.
In this life, Ling and Lan Fan first met when they were four, and she screamed when she saw him. The chi didn’t feel as bad as before, with only one extra soul as opposed to the thousands he had last time, but it was strong enough to feel wrong.
(And again, how was that even possible? She couldn’t claim to be an expert on homunculi, but she thought they were just the concentration of all of the souls in their Philosopher’s Stones. They didn’t have any individual soul to claim as their own. They weren’t human.)
And Greed, the annoyance that he was, just grinned at her, perfectly understanding why she reacted like that and relishing in it. Grandfather scolded her and profusely apologized to Ling’s (and Greed’s?) mother.
“His parents are… in the dark about this,” he told her later. “Please try to keep it that way.”
Of course, Ling’s mother and father shared the same faces as their counterparts from Xing, but they inherited none of the memories. Grandfather suspected that it had something to do with the Promised Day, though he did not have the resources to confirm anything. Still, Grandfather was right. It wouldn’t be prudent for Ling’s father to find out that his only legitimate child was possessed. This version of him was more incompetent than ruthless, and Lan Fan was sure he’d faint if he was asked to do something as simple as negotiate a treaty between two of Xing’s clans, but they couldn’t discount the possibility of him doing something… drastic if the truth was to come to light.
And Ling’s poor mother would probably have a heart attack on the spot.
Greed himself was of no help when Grandfather finally got around to interrogating him. He didn’t know why he ended up in Ling’s body again, but he wasn’t complaining and he wasn’t going anywhere. Ling theorized that their souls had grown so entangled in their time together that they simply found each other in their next life. It made sense, but that didn’t make their current situation any less complicated.
There was little they could do but wait and watch. This world had magic, something even beyond the scope of the Alkahestery she only had vague knowledge on. Maybe there existed a spell that would allow them to perform an exorcism. Not to destroy Greed, Grandfather had to be quick to reassure them, just… get him his own body. So he didn’t have to mooch off of Ling again.
For some reason, neither of them were very enthusiastic about that option, either.
Then came the oh so joyous years of Greed learning how to be an Actual Child, which involved his marvelous misadventures in navigating motor control and emotional regulation, skills he was still severely lacking in. Not that Lan Fan had any room to chastise him there, when her left arm still didn’t fully cooperate.
And if teenager Greed (teenage? adult? did incarnations of sin have a concept of age?) was annoying, then Actual Child Greed gave him a serious run for his money. Lan Fan had to watch him argue with Grandfather about picking out a Xingese name (no you cannot just call yourself Tānlán I don’t care that it translates to Greed that is not a real name), his war on chopsticks, and his inexplicable desire to adopt every stray they came across, normal animal and magical alike.
Okay so she might actually hate him now.
It was strange. Ling had surmised that giving them an actual chance to get to know each other would make them like each other, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Greed just had… no subtlety, something that Lan Fan very much did not appreciate. Especially given their… unique life circumstances. If Greed was any less unsubtle about it he was going to get himself and Ling thrown into a mental institution, and there went Ling’s goals of fixing his country again.
Maybe that’s why Grandfather didn’t fight too hard on their desire to attend magic school abroad. It didn’t entirely matter if Greed ruined their reputation in Scotland, so long as their reputation in China remained intact.
Except Hogwarts was an actual madhouse.
Ling’s hunch that Edward and Winry (half their reason for wanting to study abroad) being at Hogwarts was correct, though they had gotten themselves attached to a new group of people, people entirely uninvolved with Amestris and the Promised Day. And they were… strange.
Ron and his abomination-against-nature rat were one thing, but Harry was something entirely else. He was… fine, nice enough, had all the impulse control of a standard non-reincarnated eleven year old. Greed was signing the figurative adoption papers as they spoke, the logistics be damned, and if they weren’t careful Greed was definitely going to smuggle him back to China.
But there was something wrong with his chi.
It was subtle. Ron’s rat and their first year Defense professor definitely set off their alarm bells more, but the more time they spent with Harry, the more of a persistent nag it became. It… vaguely reminded her of Greed, just… less noticeable, less intrusive, but somehow even more foul.
Ling noticed it, too, though they came to the mutual decision to simply watch and observe, try and learn more before acting.
Lan Fan didn’t even fully know why she brought up Harry’s chi when arguing with the rest of the Hufflepuffs. The boy was strange but he was definitely no Heir of Slytherin, and if Ernie Macmillan also got it in his head to suspect Ling then she seriously questioned his critical thinking skills. But, Harry had been there, and he overheard.
So now he was asking her about it when she really, really didn’t have the time to talk it through. Not when Justin screamed for the entire library to hear about Ling being the Heir, him targeting Lan Fan in particular, and his strange demonic behavior outside the Hufflepuff common room.
Just what was Greed playing at?
Ling and Greed made what they liked to call a “roommate agreement” when they were younger. Lan Fan didn’t know the details, but knew Ling’s points entailed; a) Greed is not allowed to lie to me, b) Greed is not allowed to try and sacrifice himself for me, and c) no suppression or possession. While the scales were much more balanced now that Greed only had his one soul as opposed to his prior army of thousands, they could both still fight and suppress the free will of the other. Neither of them wanted to do that, but Lan Fan could never fully rid herself of the fear that one day, only the demon would remain.
And this is clearly what was happening now, if Greed was going around completely unchecked. It was… out of character for him, and Lan Fan just needed to confront him alone, send Harry away somewhere once his curiosities were satisfied, and then demand that Greed give Ling control back.
Except…
Ling’s scream, echoing loudly across the walls, summoned her to him. It was Ling, not Greed, yelling out into the open air and begging for a response. A memory resurfaced in her head, of Ling, looking older and taller than he was now, reaching to the sky in panicked desperation as they watched the remnants of avarice turn to dust.
She couldn’t feel Greed’s chi. It was there, but dormant, like an absence instead of a presence. It felt like…
“Ling!” she yelled in Xingese. Most uninformed would simply assume it was Mandarin, but the subtle differences between the two languages would ensure that anyone who happened to be fluent in Mandarin would not be able to listen in on their conversation. “What happened?! You need to stop yelling, you’re causing a scene. People already think you’re the Heir-”
“I can’t feel him, I can’t-”
“He’s not gone!” Lan Fan had to raise her voice to get through to him. “He’s just…” She tried to recall what was familiar about the sensation, but the only comparison she could make was to the caretaker’s cat on Halloween night. Her blood felt frozen. “I think he’s been petrified.”
Ling didn’t buy it until he tore off his glove to check for the presence of the Ouroborous, at which point Professor McGonagall took him and Harry away. Lan Fan was left alone in the corridor.
Something was seriously wrong.
Grandfather,
There have been attacks at the school. Something relating to a secret chamber and a blood purity cult. Victims are left in a state of petrification.
We think that may have happened to Greed. Ling is fine, but Greed’s chi feels inactive. We’re trying to figure out what happened, but
Lan Fan didn’t have a chance to finish her letter before she had to go up for breakfast. Not that she had any intention of eating in the Great Hall. Ling had skipped dinner, and he was probably on the verge of collapse. She merely recruited Ed into gathering as many bread rolls as they both could carry.
Though, if Malfoy’s words were to be believed, they were already too late. Lan Fan felt immensely thankful that she’d taken it upon herself to memorize the passageways to each common room, so she had no trouble navigating the dungeon corridors.
Ling was lying face down on the stone floor just outside the entrance to the common room, but he wasn’t alone. Two Slytherin girls - Lan Fan believed their surnames were Davis and Greengrass - stood over him.
“Get back,” she ordered, pushing her way to Ling’s side. He winced when she helped him into a seated position.
“What’s his problem?” Greengrass asked.
“That’s none of your business,” Lan Fan snapped.
“Fine, sorry for worrying,” Davis retorted, and the two girls left. Lan Fan took one of the bread rolls and forced it into Ling’s mouth. He chewed on reflex, though the act of swallowing seemed laborious. The more he ate, the more color returned to his face, though the shadows beneath his eyes remained.
“Sorry,” he said, voice strained. “I didn’t mean to fall to pieces like that.”
“What happened?”
“Skipped dinner.”
“You know what I meant.”
Ling looked like he very much did not want to discuss that, but Lan Fan wasn’t giving him a choice. “After the Dueling Club, Greed- Greed must have taken full control. My memories are all hazy. I couldn’t perceive anything until I came to in front of the ghost.”
It was as much as Lan Fan had suspected, and the theory that Ed and Al had proposed when she told them about it last night. Ling and Greed had… unique circumstances, so perhaps the monster could only petrify the one that was fronting. Or, if Ling had been backseating normally instead of entirely suppressed, would it have affected him, too? They weren’t sure.
“What are the rumors looking like?”
“The Hufflepuffs are convinced you’re evil incarnate. Want me to do something about that?”
Ling shook his head. He tried to get up, but he only stumbled. Lan Fan handed him another bread roll. “Let them think what they want. I doubt anything we do will change their minds right now. Right now- right now I just need to find the one responsible for this.”
“I?”
“The Heir made it personal. I’m going to track them down.”
Lan Fan looked down at her lap. “Young Lord-”
Ling flinched. “I told you, you don’t have to call me that anymore. I’m not-”
“Then act like it,” Lan Fan retorted. “This isn’t entirely on your shoulders. You don’t have to do this alone. Greed- Greed wouldn’t want you running yourself ragged for him.”
Ling hung his head. His hands trembled. “I just don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “Normally Greed would be here to bounce ideas off, but- it’s just so quiet right now. It’s too quiet.”
Lan Fan did not see the memories, moreso imagined herself remembering them. Everything after the Promised Day could only be seen through a filter, but she was reminded of Ling’s first few years as Emperor, before he learned to hide his grief from even her.
This was worse.
“I’m writing to Grandfather,” she said, showing him her first draft of the letter. “Maybe he’ll have some insight.”
“You think drinking the Mandrake Restorative Draught would bring him back?”
“Possibly, but don’t try that by yourself.” Professor Snape had worked in a lesson on the Mandrake Restorative Draught after the first petrification, and he made it explicitly clear that drinking it when not afflicted with a curse was a surefire way to poison yourself (probably anticipating that at least one student would be stupid enough to try just that). They shouldn’t try that without an antidote handy.
Ling accompanied her to the Owlerey, clearly unwilling to be alone with his thoughts at the moment. Lan Fan finished penning out her letter on the stairs as Ling hovered over her. She then found the largest, strongest looking owl amongst the flock for the trans-continental journey.
We’re trying to figure out what happened, but resources are limited here. Please send us any resources on how we can get access to Greed’s memories despite his current state. He likely saw the monster. If we can figure out what he saw, we could solve it outright.
Also, do you know any methods that could wake Greed up? The Mandrake Restorative Draught won’t be ready for months, and we Ling is upset. I’m worried about them him.
Grandfather’s first few responses were not helpful. He offered to pull them out of school, which Ling was unwilling to do while Slytherin’s monster continued to roam free. Grandfather directed them to some resources that went to dead ends, and their own investigation was drying up. The attacks had stopped.
If the Heir of Slytherin merely wanted to ruin Ling’s reputation, they could have gone about it in a way that resulted in him being less depressed.
Because Ling, despite the months passing, was not getting better. The bags under his eyes grew darker, and his hands shook when he tried to do anything. Lan Fan didn’t know if anyone else noticed, but it was all laid bare to her. His and Greed’s decision to split their classes had also started to backfire, as Lan Fan spotted reports from McGonagall and Sprout asking about his sudden decline in performance.
“It’s because I know he’s not really gone,” Ling told her. “I know he’s there, but that just makes it more frustrating. I want him back and he’s just out of reach.”
“We’ll figure something out,” she would say, though as time stretched ever out, the more meaningless those words felt.
Finally, they altered the trajectory of their search, and came upon something that might just work. Magical Memory: How Interference Impacts Impartiality was one mouthful of a title, but it was supposed to be the most comprehensive text on all of the circumstances that could impact someone’s memory, and how to retrieve those blocked off memories. If anything could let them see through Greed’s unintentional mental block, it would be in that book.
Of course the Hogwarts library didn’t actually have it in stock.
No matter. If Ling’s father was good for one thing, it was for the seemingly endless paycheck. Lan Fan merely borrowed a few Galleons and owl-ordered it. The book arrived on the same day as the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor Quidditch match, so even better. Everyone would be at the game and she’d be able to read the book in peace.
The school was empty now. She climbed up the staircase, intending to find some quiet place where nothing would disturb her. They’d figure everything out, find out how to actually bring Greed back, then everything could go back to how it was supposed to be.
… When did Greed become part of her “how things were supposed to be?”
That was when she sensed it. Something vile behind her. How it managed to sneak up on her, she couldn’t fathom, but she hadn’t felt its presence until it was right behind her. It almost seemed to hiss.
Slowly, she reached into the sleeve of her robes, grasping onto one of her knives. She only needed a glimpse, once she saw exactly what she was facing she could act accordingly.
She held up the knife to catch the reflection of her assailant, but all she managed to gleam was a glowing yellow eye encompassed by green scales.
Lan Fan awoke with a start and tried to throw her knife, only to find her hand empty. She looked to the side. The knife was lying on the bedside table.
She sat up and looked around. It was the Hospital Wing.
“Not so fast, young lady,” Madam Pomfrey said from across the room, her matron senses probably indicating that Lan Fan wanted to bolt. “The Mandrake Draught needs a few more minutes to take effect. You haven’t regained all sensation in your limbs yet.”
The Mandrake Draught? Why in the world would she need the Mandrake Draught?
It hit her all at once. The yellow eye. The scales. The slight hissing sound.
“A basilisk,” she said into the open air. Of course, she was sure Greed had mentioned something about massive snakes with murderous gazes when they were younger and he was in the midst of a magical serpent obsession. She felt so foolish for not figuring it out earlier. Grandfather would be disappointed.
“You figured it out, too?”
Lan Fan turned her head. Hermione was up, looking just as exhausted as she felt.
“Only now,” she said. “Did you-”
“We were looking around corners with a mirror to be safe,” Hermione said. She clenched and unclenched her fist, and looked down at it in wonder. “The paper’s gone-”
The Hospital Wing doors opened, and in came a trio of gingers. One of them was Ron’s younger sister, and the other two were likely her parents.
“Honestly, Ginny-” her father fussed. “What were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry- I’m sorry-” the girl hiccuped as Madam Pomfrey rushed over to her.
But the Hospital Wing doors remained open. In came Lockhart, looking more clueless than usual, then Ed and Ron. Ron was helping Ed walk, his automail leg in shambles.
“What happened?” Lan Fan asked. She ignored the numbness in her legs and forced herself to stand. The sensation would come back if she put more pressure on it.
“We fought a murder snake,” Ron said.
“Well, Harry and Ling did the actual fighting,” Ed said. “We were stuck behind rubble.”
“You got my clue?!” Hermione exclaimed, a smile on her face.
“We did,” Ron confirmed. “You’re a lifesaver, Hermione.”
Lan Fan looked towards the door, but no one else came through.
“Where’s-”
“Dumbledore sent Ling to Owlerey to send off a letter to Azkaban,” Ed explained. “Gotta bust Hagrid out of there. I- I think they’re still up there.”
They… if the subject of the conversation was anyone but Ling, and the speaker anyone but Ed, Lan Fan would’ve thought it to be a slip of the tongue. But… no, not in this case.
She ignored Madam Pomfrey yelling after her as she limped from the Hospital Wing. The more she walked, the more sensation returned to her feet, though she felt mortified at needing to use the wall as a support. By the time she reached the Owlerey, the tingling numbness was fully gone.
She could sense him- sense them, on the roof. Two distinct souls, one finally active again after months of dormancy, feeling healthier and happier than they had in ages.
She put her head out the window and latched into the crevices between the stone, swinging herself onto the shingles beside her companion. Wine red eyes looked her way, and his mouth split into a shark-like smile.
“We figured you’d find your way up here,” Greed said. “Sorry for not going to visit, but we wanted a moment to ourselves.”
He looked down and chuckled. “I can’t believe you got yourself petrified. I thought if anyone could avoid that thing, it’d be you.”
“You’re one to talk,” Lan Fan retorted, though she felt her face flush in embarrassment. “How are you awake, anyways?”
Greed sighed. “Our prince was a dumbass and drank the Mandrake Draught with no confirmation that it would work and with no antidote on hand. Don’t worry, I already gave him a talking to.”
Why was Lan Fan entirely unsurprised?
“And did he give you a talking to about violating your roommate agreement?”
Greed groaned. “Don’t you start now. I was protecting his sorry ass-”
And he cut off as whatever internal conversation he was having with Ling descended into their usual squabbling.
For a minute, they just sat and watched the stars swimming by. The presence of their unnatural chi, which Lan Fan expected to find disconcerting, was oddly comforting. Probably because it felt content, not lost and lonely, searching for the missing piece that had made his soul a home.
“I think I know what’s wrong with Harry’s chi.” Lan Fan startled. She hadn’t expected to see Ling in control for at least the next week, as Greed surely wanted to make up for lost time. “That diary was behind all of this. It had a piece of soul attached to it. A soul that belongs to Voldemort.”
“Him again?” Why couldn’t dead evil forces just remain dead?
Ling nodded. “Harry seems to have a bit of the same sliver in him.”
“What does that mean for him?”
“I’m not sure yet. Professor Dumbledore seemed interested in it. When I told him about the soul fragment in the diary, he asked if I’ve ever felt something similar before.”
“And what did you say?”
“I lied, said I’ve never felt it before, but I don’t know if he believed me,” Ling said, looking down. “That soul fragment didn’t go away until we destroyed the diary. If destroying the host object is the only way to destroy a soul fragment…”
Lan Fan understood. “Harry isn’t aware of this?”
“Doesn’t look like it. I’m guessing it has something to do with the night Voldemort tried to kill him, but… no confirmations. Let’s just observe for now, see where it goes.”
“We’re not letting anyone kill him,” Greed jumped in. “You’ve finally got me a friend from this world and I’m not giving him up.”
“He knows about you now?”
“Had no choice but to explain it,” Greed shrugged. “Him and the Weasley girl saw too much for us to just ignore it.”
Lan Fan hummed but said nothing. Silence was comforting, and the two chi beside her continued to mingle and swirl around each other.
“Lan Fan,” Ling spoke again. “I’m going to ask Fu to stop looking for ways to separate us.”
Lan Fan must have expected this, at least subconsciously, because it hardly felt like a shock. Still, she asked, “But, wouldn’t it be easier? To have your own separate bodies. You have separate interests, having to split and compromise all the time-”
“Really, we never actually wanted to separate,” Ling said. “We never expected anything to come of it. But… I don’t even want to entertain the idea anymore. Greed and I are staying together. After- after having two souls for so long, going down to one feels like losing half. I don’t think I can actually live without Greed anymore.”
Lan Fan nodded. “And what does Greed think?”
Ling blinked, and Greed came to the surface. “You’re asking what I think of it?”
“Well, it’s your life, too.”
At this, Greed threw his head back and laughed. “You care! You actually care!”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Lan Fan scowled and looked away.
“No, really, I’m flattered,” Greed said, and… wiped at his eyes. “But, yes, I don’t plan on separating from Ling any time soon. This… arrangement works best for us. Always has.”
“So be it,” Lan Fan said. Grandfather would probably come around to this once Ling and Greed explained themselves, even if he disapproved. “It’s good to have you back.”
“Good to be back,” Greed got to his feet. “Come on, they’re throwing us a party in the Great Hall. Don’t want to be late for that!”