Hi all! First Crossover story here. I'm obsessed with both FMA and Harry Potter, so I wanted to contribute to the craze. Hopefully this will be a slightly more unique take on things. You'll see where Ed ends up. No pairings in this except what's canon, so there will be slight mentions of Ed/Win, etc.

Anyway, I hope you all take the time to review! I'll need the encouragment. This has been a long-time in coming. The story starts after Ed gets impaled with the steel beam while in Drachma. There's a long time period in between this and when Father's plans start to come together, so you'll end up seeing how that works out.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"Are we sure this kid is worth it?" Heinkel asked for the ninth time, wincing as the freezing breeze cut sharply against his eyelids. At least the wind had regressed into an icy chill. The lack of distractingly high winds may have emphasized the significant temperature drop, but they were now able to take full steps forward. Both of Kimblee's former soldiers were currently in their animalistic forms—they had given their coats to the smaller boy whose limp arms were draped over each of their shoulders.

Darius grunted. "He did save our lives." His voice held doubt despite his conviction. They had been walking for about half a day now. The northern cold was living up to its dreadful reputation, indeed. Getting to the station that would transport them to the nearest doctor was much more out of their way than simply returning to Brigg's fortress. But there was no telling what Kimblee would do if he rerouted from the mines and saw the Elric boy alive, and if the Crimson Alchemist's plans were going well, Briggs was not exactly the safest place to be…

The smaller form between the two chimeras growled from underneath bundles of jackets. "I can hear you, idiots. I'm not unconscious."

"Too bad," muttered Heinkel. He was on Ed's right side, hoisting up his automail arm. The abnormal weight was causing his shoulder to hunch uncomfortably. Heinkel couldn't help but think that without his metal limbs, the kid would probably weigh no more than a tree branch. A thin one. "I can see some ruins up ahead. Darius, we'll take a breather there and then we'll switch sides. The brat's automail is giving me a knot…"

Ed made an attempt at a snort; though, with his side still severely suffering from the pole that had sliced through it, and the wound only being sloppily meshed together with spur-of-the-moment alchemy-alkahestry, it came out as more of a hefty wheeze. "'S way lighter now, frickin' pansies."

"What're you spewing on about now, boy?" Darius asked, head shifting toward the snow-coated stones and broken concrete upsets that were just up ahead. If the runt hadn't pulled an entire collapsed floor off of them, he would be face-first in snow by now. The blonde somehow managed to make insults sound like nicknames, and neither Heinkel nor Darius were particularly fond of the talent.

Before Ed could rasp out anything, Heinkel stopped walking. Darius paused, staring at his companion. "You smell that?" Darius took a moment to sniff the air. They were about ten feet away from the small clutter of fragmented rocks and pieces of stone that appeared to have once made up a large building.

"Yeah," Darius answered. "There's someone here."

Ed managed to wriggle his head out from the heavy coats. His sore eyes squinted, struggling to adjust to the blinding whiteness that touched everything in his vision. "I think I see a person," he said indifferently. He tried to move his legs to signal to the two chimeras to let him down; they merely lifted him higher. Ed made an annoyed sound.

"Hold your horses, kid. We don't know if it's an enemy or not."

Ed's arms were aching from being held up for so long, and from what he could see, the figure up ahead of them looked crippled and half-alive. "He looks hurt."

Heinkel rolled his eyes. "What, you want us carry some frozen, homeless nobody now, too?"

"What I want," said Ed slowly, "is to get out of the wind, and to see if that guy is alive. Now, move already. My eyebrows are growing icicles."

After a moment more of contemplating, both Heinkel and Darius moved forward, their animal instincts collaborating and concluding that the figure was not an immediate threat. Upon getting closer, it became clear that the man was not breathing. His old, decrepit form was slumped on one elongated stone and barely perched up against another jutting vertically from behind the first.

"Shit," Ed swore. "Put me down."

Reluctantly, the chimera gently lowered him to the ground, keeping a hold of him until he attained somewhat of a balanced gait and hobbled over to the man against the stones. The man's skin, upon further observation, was a mat of wrinkles upon more wrinkles. His white hair was almost as blinding as the snowfall around him, with a scruffy moustache and beard to match. He was wearing an interesting black cloak, but it hardly looked thick enough to prevent against even the slightest of the winter winds. One of his eyes was partly open.

Ed's eyes lidded gloomily. "He must have gotten lost up here. He probably just fell asleep from exhaustion, and then . . . "

Heinkel sighed. This kid was truly bizarre—mourning over an old man he hadn't even known. He placed a hand on Ed's shoulder, something that felt very out of place and necessary at the same time. "We can bury him, if you want."

Ed nodded. He placed his human hand on the man's face, probably to close the old guy's eye—

The kid's hand shot back like it had been burned. "What's the matter?" Darius asked, alarmed. Ed's mouth opened, brow furrowed in utter confusion. He slowly levered his hand down again and pressed two fingers to the old man's cheek.

"His skin . . . it's warm."

Several things happened in the next two seconds. First, the old guy's eyes shot open and he launched himself to his feet; Edward fell abruptly to the snowy ground and Heinkel leapt back, his movements mirrored by Darius. Second, the old man pressed a stick to the bridge of the kid's nose, arm poised into a practiced position. And finally, the snow that had been draped across the man's sitting place was swept away by an unknown force that didn't exactly feel like wind, and several alchemic arrays were revealed upon the stone.

"Who are you?" questioned the old man, gruffly.

Heinkel thought that Ed appeared much too startled upon realizing that the dead, frozen old guy was actually alive to answer properly; not to mention that the same not-dead, not-frozen old guy was currently threatening him with a stick. So the lion humanoid took matters into his own hands.

Grabbing the bottom of the kid's red coat with an extension of his hand and claws, he quickly dragged the boy out of reach of the robed man. "Elric, you stay back. We'll handle this chump."

The man's white beard twitched. His glossy eyes widened, and then the crescent moon-colored gaze snapped down to Ed. "Elric?" he started in a very thick accent, almost frantic. "Edward Elric?" Heinkel signaled to Darius to not attack—not yet, anyway.

Ed nodded dumbly, most likely because he seemed unable to speak; he was clutching his side, gritting his teeth. The brash movements probably hadn't been so good for him. The old man smiled brightly. "Please, do forgive me, my dear boy. I have been waiting a long time for your arrival."

"Excuse me?" Ed gnashed out, confusion molding with his trademark scowl. "Do I know you?"

"Oh, of course not," twittered the man folding his cloak around him, as it had unwound earlier, revealing colorful robes. "But let me say, it is an honor to meet a presence such as yours—to think, needed in not one, but two—" He cut himself off. "But here I am, getting ahead of myself."

Ed cut in before the old man could continue. "Listen, gramps. How the hell are you surviving out here? You looked dead until about a minute ago! Why are you here, and why do you know me?"

The old man chuckled. "How did I—well, magic, I suppose."

All three members of his audience were rather unimpressed by his answer.

"Okay, you old codger, we were just here taking a break. We'll be on our way, and you'll be on yours. We have no further business here." Darius folded his arms threateningly; Heinkel then realized that the man hadn't acted surprised by their rather unconventional forms at all.

The old man wasn't listening, however, and was still watching Ed intently. "My boy, are you injured?"

Ed frowned, clutching his side possessively. "What's it to you?" he sneered stubbornly.

The old man hummed a bit. "Well, that just won't do. But I can help you with that before we—oh yes, before I forget. Here." He pulled a small note-sized piece of paper from one of the folded notches in his cloak and reached in front of Ed, dropping it in his lap.

Ed stared down at the note, eyebrows elevating. "Sixty degrees . . . forty-four north—coordinates?"

"Right where we are standing, actually."

Ed's brow furrowed even more. "Hang on . . . is that—is this my handwriting?" The kid's breathing hitched, and Heinkel watched the note crumple within his automail's ironclad grasp. "I've never seen this before. I didn't write this!"

The old man smiled. "But you did. Or, rather, you will. Never mind that now, though. We must get started."

"Get started on what?"

"I can't tell you how relieved I am that you're here. I must admit, I didn't know if I would make it—it's been a few years, and I wasn't sure how much time my last dosage of elixir would give me." The old man smiled softly. "This place is complicated, but your alchemy is fascinating."

Heinkel was about ready to sock this psychotic fool in the mouth. Nothing he was saying made any sense. He'd have to get the kid to a safer location before trying anything though; he could sense the blonde's exhaustion. They needed to rewrap his wound before the cold set in on the first set of bandages.

Ed spoke up before Heinkel could make his first move. "Are those . . . alchemic arrays?" Heinkel followed the kid's gaze to the old man's stick. Indeed, there were small circles etched down the side of it, as well as upon the hand holding it.

"Yes, I'm afraid my, ah, energy, doesn't work quite the way it should, here. I had to improvise, somewhat. But, no matter. You're here, and I can finally be finished." He gazed distractedly at his stick. "My life has been far too long."

Ed's eyes widened uneasily. "What do you mean, gramps?"

The old man stared at the boy, again. He let out a light laugh. "You're just a child . . . " he said, ignoring Ed's offended expression. "But then, I have seen children do incredible things." He shook his head, as if waking up from a memory. His eyes flickered over to Heinkel and Darius. "Please, forgive me for my rudeness, gentlemen."

Heinkel hardly had time to figure out what the old codger meant before he brandished his stick and they were suddenly flying through the air, landing in the cold, wet snow with two great thuds. He flickered his furry ears, suddenly realizing that he could do no more than sit up, and tried to listen in on what the old man was saying.

"Hmmm . . . that was supposed to simply stun them." He scrutinized his stick for a moment, sighing. "A year of practicing with your alchemy and I still don't have it down."

Heinkel could see the blonde's gape from his stuck position. "What'd you do to them, you geezer?!"

"My legs aren't working," grumbled Darius, sullenly.

"Mine either," answered Heinkel, slightly disturbed. What the hell had that stick done to them?

The old man shrugged nonchalantly. "I promise they will be fine. It will wear off in a few moments. Which is why we must get started. I cannot have any more delays."

The kid could only struggle back a few inches, still clutching at his side and wincing. The old man, however, paid him no mind. With another flourish of his stick, the snow covering any portion of the stones around him and the boy flushed away, revealing an immense transmutation circle. Ed made a strangled sound, glaring at the old man.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded.

"It took me many months to figure it out, and to get all the measurements just right. You alchemists are truly talented in the ways of your complex arrays." The old man turned back to Ed, still smiling kindly. "Now then, shall we?" He concentrated for a moment and then pressed the tip of this stick to the circle. It glowed a bright, iridescent blue.

Heinkel struggled; he could feel his legs becoming less numb, but it wasn't happening fast enough—

Ed growled and went to clap his hands together, only to stop about three inches from his regular prayer-like symbol. His jaw was clenching so hard that his eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets.

"Sorry, my boy, but I was warned about your more unique technique." The old man had his stick pointed at Ed, somehow stunting the kid's movements. "There's no need to jump to conclusions, you're going to be fine."

"Why should I trust you?!" Ed shouted, face turning red from trying to press his hands together. "This isn't a human transmutation circle, but it's damn close—you're gonna get us both killed!"

"On the contrary, I am the only one to die today."

Both Heinkel and Darius froze in their attempts to get moving at the old man's words, their keen ears catching Edward's sharp intake of air.

"What did you say?" Ed's eyes were wide.

"Equivalent exchange—is that not the rule of your alchemy? Of this world? In order to get you where you are needed, I will provide the sacrifice."

The kid was shaking his head, looking panicked; his hands were still raised a few inches apart. "Don't do this—ugh!" He had tried to stand up, but the movement forced his body to bend in half, and he moved one of his hands to put pressure on his side, stifling a groan.

The old man, his face trenched in the blue light, stared down at the kid in sympathy. "That's right, you're wounded." He readied his stick, and Heinkel started to feel his toes. "This won't heal it, unfortunately, but it will give you the energy you will need. I am sorry I cannot provide more accurate aid." He tapped the kid on the head and a soft light expanded down from the blonde's temples.

Suddenly Edward was gasping like there was not enough oxygen in the air around him. He could only clutch at his chest, helpless as the old man smiled again and put his stick away, bringing his palms down to the circle.

"No!"

Ed's scream was bitten off by an unnatural screech in the air; it whistled and stung Heinkel's ears, even as he was running towards the boy, arm outstretched, just having gotten the movement back in his legs. It was useless, like trying to catch a bit of cloudy mist in a jar around the mountain boarders when fall first rolled in. The old man and the kid disappeared in a blinding flash of light, and Heinkel was left skidding on the ice, straight into the stone that the old man had been sitting on when they first arrived.

He spat out chunks of snow and fisted the ground in aggravation. Darius slowly walked over and paused before bending down and helping his friend up.

"We should probably tell somebody about this." The gorilla humanoid frowned.

Heinkel sighed. "Are we sure this kid is worth it . . . ?" His echoing question fizzled in the air when the northern wind hit it.

"He did save our lives," Darius grunted, phrasing his response for the second time.

Heinkel swore.

Ed was falling. Actually, he was kneeling on a sort-of platform, but it felt like he was falling. He could hear the uncomfortable swooshing in his ears and the nauseous feeling in his stomach was growing by the second. He forced himself to swallow, even as he felt the platform tipping. He didn't dare look behind him. A hand placed itself on his shoulder; Ed's eyes opened.

"What have you done?" Truth's laughter echoed faintly in the resonance of Ed's voice.

The old man was kneeling in front of him, offering what he probably thought was a comforting smile. Mostly Ed just wanted to kick him in the throat. He didn't want to acknowledge that they were at the Gate—he wasn't supposed to be back here, not yet. Panic blossomed like a purple bruise in his intestines, and again, he forced himself to swallow. He couldn't think about the fact that Al's body could be here somewhere, and that he had nothing to offer for it. He couldn't think about the fact that the old geezer had said he was sending him somewhere… somewhere he didn't need to be. He couldn't think about the fact that the decrepit bastard was going to sacrifice himself in order to do it, either.

"I am terribly sorry for this, my boy. But you will understand soon. You are important."

Ed glared. This guy didn't know he was ruining everything. Everything. The platform tipped more, and Ed's world lurched. He grasped at the flooring. He wasn't going to fall; he wasn't going to, damn it!

"Don't fight," the old man commanded. "You will make it back. Just make sure you get the right bit of him when you do."

Ed hissed. The man was insane. "You don't know anything!"

The white beard smiled at him. "Perhaps not. But I know that it is you alone who can do this. Burdens fall upon those least expecting it."

Ed's eyes lit aflame with coursing anger at the man's audacity. As if he didn't have enough burdens to deal with. "Don't act like you can just—you transmuted us!"

"I transmuted myself," corrected the old man. "You are simply passing through."

Ed braced himself further when he felt himself slipping. "I don't even know what you're talking about!" he shouted, enraged. "Why are you doing this to yourself!"

His voice cracked slightly when he could see the old man's form begin to dissipate. No, no. He couldn't watch this. It was beyond wrong. Was this his fault? Was he somehow to blame for this man's toll? Even though Ed was absolutely positive he had never met the man before in his life, he could feel the familiar grip of guilt as it constricted his lungs.

The bottom of the stranger's robes started to disintegrate. Ed desperately grabbed onto the sleeves of the robe. He was not going to responsible for another person's death!

"I am simply fulfilling what must be done." The old man's smile never faltered. "Death is not always tragic, Edward. Now I can see my wife again. She has been waiting for me these past few years, after all."

It was all Ed could do to keep himself from slipping into whatever oblivion he was being sent to—he held onto the geezer's sleeves, determined. He couldn't guarantee that the old man was telling the truth. If it were a ploy by the homunculi, he would be dead within a second. But they needed him. Maybe he was being taken to a place where they were rounding up the sacrifices?

This doesn't make sense, he thought to himself, distraught.

"Damn it," Edward growled. The sleeves were beginning to lose tangibility.

A light from the Gate doors behind the old man began pulling him. Ed kept swearing, holding on to the disappearing sleeves. "What's your name?" he gasped out, wildly thinking of ways to fix this situation; delay it, even. If he could somehow communicate with Truth… but then, that never went well.

"You can call me Nicolas. Nicolas Flamel." The old man locked their gazes. "Good luck, Edward Elric." The warm light consumed him.

And then Ed was falling. It was so fast, he couldn't work up a shout. He was grabbing—grabbing . . . for what? For something—anything. He realized he couldn't see. Everything was dark, darker even than when he closed his eyes. He felt a giant tug on his sternum, and his world completely flipped over.

A familiar blue electricity burned through him, and he hit the ground hard.