I know I havent updated my other fic since NOVEMBER, and here I am starting yet ANOTHER one, but...I DONT CARE. SO HA! I WILL finish it though, that I promise. Okay, so for information: This takes place in book 3 PoA, Ed is 15, this follows BROTHERHOOD/MANGA plot and PARTS of CoS *explanations will be given accordingly* he WILL have magic, because in my fic the gate gives power, so wizards all have a gate just like alchemists, and blah blah blah; ED WILL NOT BE GRYFFINDOR. Sorry if you dont like that. *not really*. He has automail. He will not be in a relationship with any HP characters, as of now. PAST RELATIONSHIP: there will be mentions of RoyEd, but not enough that it is prominent in the story. ED IS NOT GAY. He is pansexual in this fic, meaning that he likes anyone for personality, regardless of gender, ect. AlWin of AlMei, havent picked. HP PAIRINGS: none as of now, review for requests. AND IF I GET 10 REVIEWS WITHIN 5 DAYS Ill POST ANOTHER CHAPPIE! *i love bribery* Enjoy ;)

****EDIT (3/19/14): Ok, so I realized there was a PLOTHOLE THE SIZE OF KANSAS: GERMANY DIDN'T EXIST IN 1339! For those that don't know, Bavaria is the German state that Munich is in, and it did in fact exist at this time. SOOO…He's in Germany, but doesn't know the name "Germany" yet. Alrighty then?

Ed swore in surprise as he was jolted awake by a sharp pain—or rather, several sharp pains. Disoriented, he tried to get his bearings as the world spun around him, and couldn't it juststop fucking moving, and isn't the ground supposed to be on the ground? Swinging himself about, he realized after a few moments that he was hanging upside down from a tree, one foot caught in the branches, and swore again. All of that exercise and all of those fights do make a person rather fit though, and Ed pulled his body upward and grabbed his boot in one hand and the branch in the other. With quite a bit of wriggling and untangling, (Really, how did his shoelaces get tied around the branch? And in a bow, as well!), He tumbled past several branches and landed quite painfully on his back. Ed groaned, sitting up stiffly and looked back up at the tree. Past the many broken branches, far far up, he saw his boot, still tied to the tree. Fuck. Not wanting to risk the fall again, he clapped his hands and transmuted one of the broken branches into a temporary replacement. "Cellulose, hemicelluloses, lignin…" he muttered as he pressed his hands to the wood, feeling the soft hum of the transmutation. Slipping on the wooden boot, he winced at how ridiculously uncomfortable it was. It'd do for now, though.

Now, on to the next problem: where was he? Looking around at the peaceful woods, the worn earthen path gently winding around the trees, and the laughter of children playing with their friends in a field nearby, he could assume that he was in a park. There were no parks in Dublith though; they had enough forest for that. And this certainly wasn't any part of the woods there; he and Al had memorized every stick and stone there during their time with Teacher. So the question remained. As he set off on the path, Ed wracked his brain for any possible clues. It couldn't be a prank from Mustang's crew; they were still back in Central, and they knew well enough that bothering him on his break was a death sentence. As innocent as Al was, Ed wouldn't put a prank past him (as he had shown him many times in the past), but he was in Resembool with Winry. And teacher, pulling a prank? Hah, the day Mustang's not a bastard! So that ruled out pranks. What about kidnappings? ...after the last few that tried, no one was that stupid or suicidal. Now, what was the last thing that he had done? Thinking hard, he had remembered Teacher sending him out for groceries…. He gasped in shock as the memory hit him like a sledgehammer, nearly walking into a tree in the process.

Ed thanked the grocer for the fresh produce, slinging the bag over his shoulder. He turned to leave, planning on heading to the butcher's next, when he heard the scream. Ed moved to spin around and find its source, but a strange tug in his chest prevented him from doing so. To his surprise, the tip of a spear, so like the one he used in battle, was poking out of the front of his shirt. A dark crimson stain was spreading on his shirt, like a blossoming rose. He turned his head, looking over his shoulder to see his attacker, and gave a gasp of surprise. Or tried to, as the blood bubbled up in his throat. 'Envy.…h-how.…' he wheezed, eyes wide with shock. For the man that had previously been the grocer had his arm twisted and distorted into a long spear lodged in Ed's chest, and the mad purple glint in his eyes was unmistakable. He gave his arm a sharp jerk, and if shock prevented Ed from feeling the pain before, he sure felt it now. 'What, you thought I actually killed myself that day in the tunnels with Mustang?' he hissed furiously. 'That I didn't have the will to go on? Well, Pride isn't the last homunculus. And you aren't free of me. Not yet.' He twisted his arm a bit more, and Ed grunted in pain. 'And just think, pipsqueak—once I'm done with you, I'm going after your precious brother, and that dear lover you treasure so much.' Ed growled, low and furious, as he slowly pressed his shaking hands together. 'What, you didn't honestly think I'd let them live, did you?' Envy laughed sadistically. 'Imagine the looks on their faces! Poor Alphonse, writhing in pain, and your dear—gah!' Envy stared at the automail blade lodged in his chest in shock. Ed glared back at him furiously. 'You won't hurt them, because I'm taking you with me.' Envy snarled furiously, even as his hair and toes began to dissipate. 'You can't harm me; I'm immortal!' Ed grinned dryly. 'Close to, anyway. But you haven't replenished your stone, and you were at your limit before. Your time is up, homunculus.' Envy's eyes widened as he realized the truth in his words, and he moved to lunge at the teen, only to dissolve away before his eyes. Ed stared at the spot he had stood in for a moment before his legs gave out and he collapsed, and all was white.

"So I'm dead…" he mused to himself. Glancing back at the tree, he gave a snort, "Well, death sure isn't painless." But…there was something off. He could feel the hum of alchemy in the air, the carbon bonds, the traces of iron in the rocks and the nitrogen rich in the soil. And looking at his temporary shoe, he noted he could perform alchemy, while every other time at the gate he could not. Something was wrong—very wrong. Sprinting down the hill, he saw the children throwing a Frisbee and an older woman tossing seeds to the pigeons. And, past all of that, he saw the familiar buildings of Bavaria looming in the distance. "Truth, you are such a bastard."

He was in Munich again, that much was obvious. Now that he thought of it, he had come through in the same spot, though that tree hadn't been there last time. And looking around, he didn't recognize any of the buildings save one very ancient museum—but when he had left, hadn't they only been done on the outside? Now, here was a sign posted out front saying that what he remembered as Adalric's new house was the recently restored townhouse turned museum. Then again, he knew time changed when one passed through the Gate. He had been shocked to see that it was 1339 the first time he came through with his father, and after being trapped there for eight years even more shocked to come home only seven months later. The most infuriating thing about that was that, physically, he lost all of the time over in Bavaria—and an additional year. Interestingly, scars he got there stayed. So, why was this infuriating? Because he was EVEN SHORTER THAN BEFORE. He gave a disgruntled huff at the memory. Thankfully, he kept all of his memories of his time spent in Bavaria. However, he wasn't mentally twenty-five, because of the wonderful rampant hormones of teenagers, so he acted the same way he did at his physical age. (As much as Ed ever could) And while Ed had come over at seventeen, judging by his height (NOT SHORT DAMNIT), he appeared about fifteen again. Great.

Now, the trouble would be finding out what year it was. Newspapers cost money, which he had none, and asking people the year can get some strange looks. Sooo…garbage fishing it was. Whistling in a completely unsuspicious matter, he shuffled toward a metal garbage near a hot dog stand and leaned in casually and groped for a paper. Grasping something, he whipped out the much desired….. pretzel? The man at the hot dog stand gave him a concerned look. "If you're that hungry, you can have one…" he offered.

Ed flushed a shade of red rivaling his cloak. "No, I just needed to see a newspaper." He mumbled in embarrassment. The man raised a doubtful eyebrow, but handed him a newspaper nonetheless. Ed winced at the main article, which screamed about a serial killer kidnapping little girls that turned up dead days later in Britain. Finally, he saw the date in the corner of the paper—and gasped. It was June 21….1993. He was roughly eighty five years in the future. And it had been 646 years since his last visit.

Groaning, Ed slumped down on the rotting wooden bench, feeling the aged wood creak beneath his weight. His plans to find Hohenheim seemed pointless now, as his stone had been used up in his efforts to send his son home. Everyone he knew would be dead by now, all his friends and any hope for help. Well, maybe not everyone...maybe not Nicolas...

A determined look suffusing his face, he jumped to his feet and set off down the road toward the train station. Memories of a young boy, with bright, excited eyes and an eager mind flashed through his memory, though he knew that if Nicolas had reached his goal he would be a wizened old man, if not long dead. But if he had, if Nicolas has succeeded in creating a philosopher's stone not with alchemy and souls, but with magic...

Well, Ed might not be trapped here after all.