A/N: Alright, here is the second chapter! I have to thank all of the reviewers, you don't know how thrilled I was to read them and how important they are to me. They were also very thorough reviews instead of something like "great story! write more :)" which, while nice, isn't all that helpful. So all of you guys are awesome.

I also thought that I would respond to a few of them. howlingwindofthestorm, I understand the wish that all of Ed's kids be awesome at alchemy, but I think of it as being something one becomes good at with a lot of practice, not something you are born naturally good or bad at. To me, Eli just doesn't have the same kind of interest that his father and uncle have for the subject. Just like my dad has an unholy obsession with Jimmy Buffett that I will never understand, Eli will never quite get his Dad's obsession with alchemy. Amanda is his yang.

Upsilon Four, I'm not sure what allusion you're talking about to be honest...don't you love it when you accidentally do something clever? And I understand the pain with initials as well, mine spell MPH. I get the miles per hour joke a lot.

haaschiibrownii, I feel the same way about the arm! For some reason, it's just not Ed without it...Whenever I read a fanfic where they talk about replacing the arm with magic I just start thinking "They better not..." And I don't really like the reusing the names of the dead either. I don't feel like it's something that Ed would do anyway, I figure he would want to remember the dead as they were and not "create a new one" so to speak because they're dead and death is final. I don't know, maybe that's crazy but that's how I reason it.

And last but not least, sumigoddess, I couldn't help myself I had to give him a trigger word. XD

Oh and for future reference:

All German when someone is around and can understand it will be written in italics,

If the people around the Germans-speakers cannot understand it it will be written in German.

As to where the translations will be I'm not sure...I have an internal war with myself about that. I hate the look of translations being in the middle of the chapter, but I hate it when I want to know what the characters are saying and I have to scroll down and find out and end up seeing stuff that happens later on in the chapter by accident. So if you have an opinion on that topic please let me know in a review, or PM or even smoke signals if that is your preferred method. Just let me know. :)

NOW ON TO THE STORY!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter, those belong to Hiromu Arakawa and JK Rowling respectively. SO DON'T YOU BE THINKIN OTHERWISE.

Chapter 2: Unimpressive Burglars

It was an average summer day for Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There he was, just like every other summer previous for the last forty years, lost amongst stacks of paperwork and wishing that he could hire a secretary.

This year however, there was more weighing on his mind than approving new school rules and ignoring Filch's pleas for the right to use torture devices on the students. No, this year the upcoming war was taking up any of the free space and livelihood he had left in his overly cluttered mind.

His ancient face appeared to have grown even more so in the weeks since Voldemort's rebirth and his eyes, within the privacy of his own office, held none of the usual merry twinkle. They were the eyes of a man who was being pulled in all directions simultaneously and his body was starting to show the strain.

How dearly the man missed having a mentor on which he could rely. Harry and the members of the Order did not know how good they had it, being the one to take the orders. How easy it was to just listen and wait for some wise old man to tell you the right thing to do.

Dumbledore did not have this kind of luxury. At the end of the day, if anything at all went wrong, it would be on his own head. Dumbledore would not wish that upon anyone and he knew that Harry would know all too soon how that felt. He was growing old and the time to pass on the unfortunate torch was fast approaching. Harry, with his fame and history was the most obvious choice for the role of leader…poor boy.

The old man gave a start as one of the strange silver instruments on his desk began to whirr. Train of thought broken, Dumbledore reached out for the dust-coated device with a look of surprise. "He couldn't be…" he whispered in awe. It was almost too good to be true.

He adjusted his moon-shaped spectacles and took a closer look at the sensor he held cradled in his wizened hands. The quick once-over was enough to see that it was fully functional. Not that he had expected it to be broken anyhow; it had not been moved or even touched since the time it had been deposited on the desk going on four years ago. "Well, I'll be…Nicholas, you always knew when you were needed…" he chuckled.

Smiling his first real smile for the first time that week, the old wizard was on his feet. In his haste to be going, he left a note of explanation for Minerva that was so splotched with ink it was barely legible. But now was not the time for worrying about penmanship, he had places to be and people to be reunited with.

As the suffocating grips of apparition released him from its hold he found himself standing before a large, dark wooden door.

Upon the door was an unusual silver door knocker. It was in the shape of a cross with a serpent draped upon it, set beneath a winged cross. He knocked it twice and waited.

And then he waited some more.

After a second attempt garnered no more response than the first, he began to worry. Flamel's house was damn near impregnable when he had left it, a veritable fortress if you will, only Dumbledore and the Flamel's themselves knew how to enter the home. The idea that there would be burglars was laughable, but he knew that if the man had indeed returned as the sensor had indicated, then his house-elves would have also.

Gilly, house-elf pride in full force, would have been at the door on the first knock. Further doubt took root as he remembered that the sensor did not only react to Flamel. It was only a simple security device that responded in the event that someone of magical ability entered the home.

Looking back, it had been foolish of him to jump the gun and assume, but it was like he had told Harry on many occasions; despite the boy's resolution to believe otherwise, he was quite often wrong. Sadly, this seemed to be one of those times.

Knowing he could not leave the house to these criminals, he withdrew his wand. He knew he had best be on his guard; criminals they may be, but they had to be clever to have broken into the mansion. There weren't even any outward signs of a struggle to reveal how they had gotten in…they might actually be a challenge.

He pressed a hand to the handle, but swiftly withdrew it with a small hiss. The handle had burnt like the head of a branding iron. How could the wards still be intact? If they had not broken the wards, which admittedly he would have been alerted to (So many wrong assumptions today, perhaps he really was going senile…) then they would have had to enter from the inside.

With apparition wards on the home to guard against such a happening, this was becoming more suspicious by the minute.

"Enough of this" he thought, there was no more time for pondering the situation, he had to act. Who knew what kind of information, inventions, and precious magical artifacts they could be extracting at this very minute? Without further hesitation Dumbledore spoke the passphrase to allow his entry.

Very carefully he opened the door and was thankful when it did not creak. Casting a quick and silent Homenum Revelio, he stepped lightly in the direction of the library. The spell had informed him that there were two people residing in that room.

Before he could even reach it he heard voices. They did not seem to be aware of the rule that when one commits a burglary they should be as quiet as the night itself, for they were as loud as the rooster at dawn.

He did not have to get very close before he could soon make out the words, which seemed to be in German, oddly enough. Luckily for Dumbledore, he was fluent and had no trouble at all understanding them.

"Where the hell are we?" the voice was young but definitely male. How and why was someone so young in the house? Why did he not know where he was?

An older and much more sarcastic voice answered, "Geez kid…You don't even recognize a library when you see one? Maybe I am bad at parenting…"

"I know it's a library!" The child cried exasperated, "This place is huge though…I thought we were in an abandoned house. Who would leave this much stuff behind?"

The older man's voice dropped to a harsh whisper that Dumbledore had to strain to hear. "It's not likely they did. Keep your voice down. We don't know who could be listening."

There was a brief pause as the younger one seemed to digest this information before he spoke again. "What should we do?" he sounded nervous.

"Well we sure as hell aren't going to sit here waiting for someone to find us. We'll have to find a way out, but it's imperative that you stay quiet, got it?" another pause as the man apparently waited for an affirmative response then he continued, "I'm going to go first-no arguments. If I tell you to run, I expect you to do it. If that happens I'll catch up with you later."

"Dad-"

"Come on."

Dumbledore swiftly backed away from the door and held out his wand. It had been just in time, as the door opened a crack. One lightly colored eye peered out and focused on the old wizard. Before Dumbledore could open his mouth to say that he meant no harm (after that conversation it seemed evident that, however it had happened, the two males had ended up here on accident, perhaps floo-related) the door slammed back shut.

There was a strange noise- clapping?- followed by a bright blue light that flashed through the cracks in the door-make that wall. For that was what it was now, the door had melted out of existence.

There was a shout from the younger from behind the newly created wall followed by hushing sounds. Why the boy was hushed, Dumbledore did not know, for afterwards a racket that rocked the foundation issued from the room. The wards went haywire.

The invisible dome that surrounded the house could now be seen through the home's large windows. It shined a bright electric blue and lightning arced across the surface. A loud yelp could be heard from within the room and Dumbledore decided enough was enough. He blasted the door open and was taken aback by what he saw.

One of the walls of the library had been blown to pieces, books thrown across the room and pages fluttering down from the ceiling. He heard a gasp near his feet. The boy he had heard appeared to have been tossed back by the explosion. He was lying on his back and staring dazedly back at the old man.

His large blue eyes were wide and scared and he mouthed wordlessly for a second before licking his lips and hoarsely speaking. "D-Dad? Uh we got company…"

Looking to the center of the wreckage, Dumbledore found a man standing right at the edge of the wards. The first thing he noticed about him was that the man had one arm poking through the light barrier.

The second thing he noticed was that said arm was metal.

Thirdly he noticed a pair of fierce eyes, unidentifiable in color due to the blue of the wards reflected in them, glaring right at him.

The man's long braided hair, also looking quite blue at the moment, swung over his shoulder as he turned, pulling his arm out of the shield. Strangely, he clapped as though in prayer before raising a hand over the metallic limb. As the hand grazed over it, a wickedly curved and very lethal looking blade emerged.

Grinning without any real humor the man ground out roughly, "Step away from the boy, and no one will get hurt."

A/N- So you may have noticed that this one is a bit shorter than the first, but I couldn't help but want to end there. The next one will be longer, promise. :D Review please!