Author's Note

Hi minna-san, sorry for the long wait. I didn't get anything posted in November and I've been on a Christmas carol parody spree, so check it out when you're done here. As an apology and Christmas bonus, I've decided to add a tentative idea for a FMA(Fullmetal Alchemist)/Harry Potter crossover that I'll tell you more about later if you decide to read it.

About last chapter, I got several reviews saying Uryu is left-handed and so I'm going to give you guys the argument that I gave to those who I could reply to: Uryu is right handed. I checked and he sews using his right hand and snapped the hollow bait with his right hand. I know he holds his bow with his right hand and draws it with his left hand, but the one time I did archery, which was way before I knew about Bleach, I did the same and I'm right handed. So no, he's not nesseccarily left handed. And to that I'd like to add that in Zombie Powder, Kubo's first serialized series, he mentions that Smith shoots left-handed primarily while in truth he is ambidextrous, so the same could possibly apply to Uryu. There are several parallels between the two stories, or rather some characters, if you pay close attention.

Anywho, the chapter's a bit short but I think I got some good comedy in it, so enjoy!


On the day before all the teenagers in Grimmauld Place where to be shipped off to Hogwarts the letters with the official booklists arrived. There was a bunch of excitement over Ron and Hermione being made prefects. Ichigo honestly didn't get why they wanted to be prefects. If it was anything like being on the student council back home, then sure it was something that parents would be proud to have their kids in, but it would be a pain for the kids themselves to participate. All the extra responsibility, having to deal with the fallout for getting other students put in detention, and all the extra work they have to do. If he was the one receiving one of those badges, he probably would have handed it back with a 'hell no, I'm not doing this.' He wasn't Ishida.

After that small bit of excitement in the morning the rest of the day was spent tracking down and gathering belongings that had somehow managed to scatter themselves around the house. Actually, it was mostly helping the Weasley boys and Harry get their things together since Hermione, Ginny, and the Japanese teens kept better track of their things.

The party that night was cheery, even though Moody depressed Harry some with the photograph of the old Order.

The next morning was a hectic scramble to round everybody up and get them on their way to King's Cross Station. The chaos was not helped by Fred and George levitating their trunks around in attempt to save themselves time and effort. Knocking Ginny and Orihime down the stairs with the floating trunks by accident did not make it any better. While they were used to their mother shouting at them for recklessness, the death glare Ichigo gave them was much more terrifying.

Soon enough they were all on the train and it was leaving the station, Sirius trailing along under the window in his dog form until he ran out of platform to follow them on.

"Shall we go find a compartment, then?" Harry asks, turning to the others.

Ron and Hermione are quick to excuse themselves for their prefect duties, telling Harry how they don't really want to leave him and that they'd try to spend time with him during the ride. Harry wasn't exactly happy about it, it would be his first time going to Hogwarts without Ron at his side, train or not, but he understood. If it was up to them, they'd stick with him. So they parted ways and he, Ginny, Orihime, Uryu, and Ichigo went off to hunt for a compartment to sit in.

They trailed through the cars, peering around trying to find an unoccupied compartment. Unfortunately all the compartments they passed were already full. Many people watched the group go by, some because of Harry, others because of the three unknown, older students. It took a while for Harry to realize that the reason some of students were staring at him was that the Daily Prophet had been spreading lies about him having attention seeking delusional tendencies. It made the rather long trek down the train a bit miserable for Harry.

In the final carriage they ran across Neville Longbottom, who was also experiencing trouble finding a compartment to sit in. After a short round of introductions, which included Uryu's general indifference, Orihime's sunshine personality, blushing by Neville because of the beauty, and threatening glares from Ichigo, Ginny herded them all into the compartment behind Neville after receiving the okay from the girl occupying it.

Harry and Neville both thought the girl, Luna Lovegood, seemed quite odd, what with her rather detached from the world countenance and the fact that she was reading a magazine upside down. Ichigo could really care less as he had met people much stranger than Luna. Uryu was personally thankful that even if she was odd she wasn't trying some strange introduction like Nel, Pesche , and Dondochakka. No, he really didn't need to know another person that odd. Orihime was tilting her head around trying to see what Luna was reading.

"Had a good summer Luna?" Ginny asks Luna, giving her a smile.

"Yes." came Luna's reply, a far-off dreamy quality to her voice. Her focus was on Harry even as she was replying to Ginny's question. "Yes, it was quite enjoyable. You're Harry Potter."

"I know I am." Harry responds, a little annoyed and hoping she doesn't bring up the Prophet's lies. Neville chuckles and Ichigo snorts.

Luna turns to the other occupants of the compartment. "And I don't know who any of you are."

"I'm nobody." Neville quickly replies.

"No you're not." Ginny says sharply, refusing to let Neville put himself down like that. "Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood. And those three are Uryu Ishida, Ichigo Kurosaki, and Orihime Inoue." She says, pointing to each Japanese student in turn.

"Hajimemashite, Luna-chan." Orihime greets her with a bright smile while Uryu and Ichigo both dip their heads with muttered hellos.

"Oh, you're from another country? Somewhere in Asia I suspect. China maybe?" Luna asks.

"Japan, actually." Uryu replies, pushing his glasses up.

"Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw." Ginny explains as the newcomers finish getting their trunks stored away and take their seats.

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure." Luna says in a singsong voice.

"Oh, do all the houses have a saying?" Orihime asks no one in particular

"No, I don't believe they do." Luna calmly replies. "That's not a house saying anyways, it's just something I made up. Rather clever isn't it?"

"Hai. You should try making one for each house!" Orihime says with a smile.

"Maybe…" Luna trails off before disappearing behind her upside down magazine.

The train rattled on, speeding them through the countryside. A quick meeting with Cho Chang left Harry wishing he could have left a cooler impression of himself, though it honestly wouldn't have been hard considering that when she had stopped by he was covered in stinksap from Neville's birthday gift, was holding a toad, and was in a compartment with Neville and Loony Lovegood. Ichigo yelling at Neville for getting 'magic cactus goo' on everyone and causing the poor boy to cower from the hybrid's wrath did not help any in making Harry look cool. No, that definitely could have gone much better for him. And the train puffed on, uncaring of the trouble of its passengers.

It was nearly an hour later that Ron and Hermione found them in the compartment and, continuing the recent downturn of events for Harry, confirmed that Malfoy had indeed become the Slytherin prefect. He was however slightly reassured by the fact that Ron did not mind slightly abusing his prefectly duties to get back at the stuck-up boy. Ron's imitation of Goyle doing lines also brightened Harry's mood. It left everyone laughing, even Uryu and Ichigo chuckled some.

Shortly after that, the compartment door opened for a third time. Standing in the doorway was a pasty boy with platinum blonde hair and two hulking boys closer in appearance to gorillas than your average person. Ichigo noted that the atmosphere of the cabin immediately tensed at the arrival of Pasty and his gorillas. He sighed softly to himself. They, or rather Pasty, were here to cause trouble and Ichigo knew himself well enough to know that this encounter had a good chance of ending with him punching out the gorillas and their self-assured boss. It probably wouldn't even be hard. The gorillas were big but Yammy had been bigger, probably brighter too, and Pasty didn't look like he even knew how to throw a punch, much less take one. No, the only trouble would be getting away with the fight. The narrow space in the compartment and hallway would make it a trick to fight without involving others and he wasn't entirely sure if he would get punished for fighting on the train or not. Not that he really cared, Ichigo had been in detention for fighting before and it really was just another annoyance to add to the list of annoyances that bullies and thugs put him through.

"What?" Harry aggressively says to Malfoy before he can even open his mouth.

'Let the trouble begin' Ichigo internally sighs.

"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention." Malfoy smugly replies. "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."

'Looks like I will get punished if I punch Pasty out' Ichigo thinks as he begins to evaluate whether or not it will be worth the trouble.

"Yeah," Harry says, "but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone."

Malfoy's lip curls as the other Gryffindor students laugh. It's pretty obvious to Ichigo that whatever Pasty's going to say next will stir everyone else up.

"Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?"

"Shut up, Malfoy." Hermione sharply says.

"I seem to have touched a nerve." Malfoy smirks, all but too pleased with the reaction he got. "And who have we here?" he asks, attention having finally landed on the Japanese teens. He eyes them for a second or so before realization lights his eyes. "You three must be the transfers from Japan. I'm Draco Malfoy, Slytherin prefect, and these two are Crabbe and Goyle. I think you'll find that there are more… respectable people to be acquainted with. I can help you there. My father is quite influential in the Ministry."

Orihime frowns slightly at Malfoy's arrogant manner while Ichigo's scowl deepened. He gets a similar vibe from Malfoy as he did with Byakuya. The whole 'I'm-rich-and-noble-so-I'm-better-than-you' kind of feeling, except Malfoy didn't possess the refined air needed to actually make it feel even the least bit impressive or intimidating.

Uryu, however, is the one to speak up. "We are the transfers from Japan. I'm Uryu Ishida and this is Ichigo Kurosaki and Orihime Inoue. And I don't really see what your father has to do with anything. You're not him, so don't expect people to like you because of your father." He says, pushing his glasses up before turning back to the book he had been reading before any prefects had showed up.

Malfoy frowns at Uryu's brush off and how Ichigo and Orihime seem to be happy to go with it. "I see, so you've thrown yourselves in with that lot, and here I was told that the Japanese were all about respect. Well, just watch yourself, Potter, because I'll be dogging your footsteps in case you step out of line."

It was at this point that Ichigo had had enough of the pasty blonde and his two gorillas.

"I'll give you two options. One: you can leave on your own or Two: I can make you leave –"

"You can't kick me out I'm a prefe–"

" –through the window."

Malfoy's mouth opens and shuts a few times trying to process a good comeback to the threat Ichigo just delivered. "We're on a train!" he indignantly shouts. Falling off a train is not something he wishes to do. Or anyone really, but Malfoy was the one facing that particular threat.

"So?" Ichigo responds with a shrug. "It's not a shinkansen. You won't die from getting tossed off a slow train like this."

Malfoy stares at Ichigo like he's insane. "You can't be serious." He says in disbelief.

"He is." Uryu says, not even glancing up from his book. "I've seen him literally kick a person out of a second story window." He didn't see any reason to mention that said person was rather resistant to such 'small' falls since he was an arrancar. And he didn't doubt that Ichigo would hesitate in ejecting Malfoy and his gorillas from the train car. Ichigo had kicked Asguiaro Ebern out his bedroom window for nearly the same reasons as he would be kicking Malfoy out for: being an annoyance and not doing as Ichigo said. Besides, he didn't really care for Malfoy's disposition himself and wouldn't particularly mind watching the boy go flying out the window.

It is at this point that Malfoy scowls as indignant anger fills him. "If you try to push me out the window you'll get detention, expelled, deported!" His voice raising towards the end seeing as Ichigo has gotten out of his seat and taken a step towards him.

"Somebody open the window." Ichigo calmly says "And make sure you get it open all the way. It's gonna be a bit of a squeeze to fit Gorilla 1 and Gorilla 2 out through it." Harry and Ron wear wide grins as they grab the latches to the window. "Or maybe I should just toss Pasty out first and watch the gorillas follow him on their own." He says, rubbing his chin in thought.

Malfoy pales and takes a step back into the safety of the hallway while Crabbe and Goyle stand there, unsure if they should be worried about Ichigo's complete confidence in being able to take both of them on or insulted by his jab at their intelligence. At least they think he's insulting their intelligence. It's either that or he's overestimating their loyalty, at which point the joke's on him.

As Ichigo reaches forward, Malfoy flinches back, fairly certain that if the scowling teen gets a hold of him it won't be pleasant. "Sayounara." Ichigo says as he hooks the door and slams it shut in Malfoy's face.

Malfoy just stands blinking at the door before he pulls himself together and briskly turns on his heel and walks away, Crabbe and Goyle quickly lumbering into place behind him. He seethes at the way that the Japanese student was able to brush him off and intimidate him, but he'll have to wait for revenge because he doesn't have much of an idea at the moment of how to go about getting said revenge.

Back in the compartment, Ron and Harry return to their seats, disappointed that Malfoy did not get to exit the compartment via the window. As Harry reclaims his seat, his eyes connect with Hermione's and he knows instantly that she had also registered Malfoy's words and been equally disturbed by it. He hoped that Malfoy's use of "dogging" was just a coincidence, but had a sinking feeling that it was not. Harry looked to Ron, hoping to get a small indication of his opinion on the matter, but it seemed Ron had not noticed anything.

What Harry did not notice was Uryu watching them over the edge of his book, gauging whether anyone else had picked up Malfoy's word choice and found reason for concern in it. Uryu was pleased to see that it hadn't just flown over everyone's heads. Harry and Hermione had noticed, though he hadn't really expected it to get past Hermione in the first place, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed Orihime's slight frown of concern as she eyed the door. It's harder to tell if Ichigo has picked up on the small nuance of words seeing as he is already annoyed with Malfoy and hearing Ron's unconcerned request for a Chocolate Frog makes him confident that the freckled boy did not pick up on anything.

And so the train carried on, heading north. It was spitting rain as Harry pressed his forehead against the window in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Hogwarts in the distance. Not that it did him any good as it was a moonless night and the window was quite grimy.

"We'd better change." Hermione finally says, and so with some difficulty everyone fishes their robes out of their trunks. The boys step out of the compartment to give the girls privacy while the girls pull down the blinds to ensure that there is no peeking. After a few minutes the girls come out to switch places with the guys.

"Whoa mate." Ron says seeing Ichigo with his shirt off.

"'Whoa' what?" Ichgio asks tilting his head to the side as he picks up his school shirt.

"Well, you're… ya know…" Ron replies, not really sure how to word it, so he instead gestures towards Ichigo.

"You're very muscled." Neville says, finishing Ron's thought. He had also noticed that unlike most other boys their age that Ichigo's muscles were much more defined.

"Yeah, I can't say I know anyone else with a six-pack." Harry adds on. Sure he already knew that Ichigo, Uryu too for that matter, was very physically fit, but seeing that Ichigo had the kind of muscles you'd find on male models was a surprise. Even more so when you compared him with Uryu who did not have washboard abs yet was as physically fit considering that he was able to keep up with Ichigo in the one sparring match Harry saw.

Ichigo blinks and looks down at himself before shrugging and putting on the shirt he was holding. It hadn't ever really occurred to him as being odd to be as muscled as he was. He knew other guys as muscled as him. Hell, he knew guys that had even bigger muscles than his. Ichigo honestly didn't see why it was a big deal to the wizards to have a six-pack.

"You must get lots of girls looking like that." Ron says a little wistfully.

"Not really." Ichigo says. The young wizards stare at him in surprise, after all, if they had a physique like that they were fairly certain they'd be swarmed by girls. "What? I had a reputation as a thug and delinquent. Not exactly great boyfriend material to most girls."

"Your hair color probably didn't help." Uryu snidely remarks.

"Shut up, Ishida." Ichigo growls. He knows Uryu said it just to annoy him.

"His hair color?" Harry asks. Sure it's bright and obvious, but considering that the Weasleys are all of a similar color, he didn't think it was that bad.

"Yes, his hair color." Uryu replies. "It's not exactly a common color in Japan and the people who do have orange hair usually got it by dying their hair. Most of those are thugs who think it looks cool. So Ichigo's hair makes him stand out and gives others the impression that he's in a gang, which his habit of fighting doesn't help." The other boys nod in understanding.

"Well I'm sure you'll get plenty of girls here, mate." Ron says with a pat to Ichigo's shoulder.

"No thanks, I've already got a girlfriend." Ichigo growls, thoroughly annoyed with the conversation as he pushes Ron's hand off his shoulder. He does not need a second Keigo whining about getting girls and other stupid things.

"Oh, right." Ron says and the boys lapse back into silence.

Once the boys are done changing, the girls come back in. Not long after that the train begins to slow down as it approaches their destination. The train car fills with noise as the students begin to assemble their baggage for departure and Ron and Hermione leave to go supervise the mess, leaving Pigwidgeon and Crookshanks in the care of Harry and the others.

"I'll carry that owl, if you like." Luna offers, reaching out to receive Pigwidgeon from Harry while Neville carefully stows Trevor in his pocket.

"Oh –er –thanks." Harry says, handing over the smaller, hyper-active owl and getting a better grip on Hedwig's cage.

It's a slow shuffle to get off of the train car and onto the platform. Harry can't help but be disappointed by the lack of Hagrid on the platform. It's not that he has anything against Professor Grubbly-Plank, he just prefers Hagrid. Somewhere in all the commotion and crowd, Harry got separated from the group. He briefly caught a glimpse of Ichigo's bright hair before it disappeared into the crowd once more.

Seeing none of the people he knew, Harry let the crowd sweep him out of the station and out to the horseless carriages that took all non-first year students to the castle. Except they weren't horseless anymore, though the creatures pulling them could barely be called horses. They had about the right shape, but he could see nearly every bone the creatures had through their skin, their heads were draconic with pupil-less, milky white eyes, and great leathery wings spread from their withers. The gloom of the night did nothing to lessen the sinister feel of their appearance and Harry wished they would have kept the coaches horseless. Though the most disturbing thing was that no one else seemed to see them, or at least Ron couldn't when he asked him.

When Luna caught up with them and returned Pigwidgeon, she informed them that they didn't need to wait for the Japanese students as she'd seen them get in a carriage with a man in a striped hat and a blonde with a bowl-cut. Her reassurance that the ghastly horses were indeed there and that she could see them was not as reassuring to Harry as she probably meant it to be.


Author's Note

Wizards don't have abs. Many male Bleach characters have washboard abs. Wizards do not work out enough and so I think Harry Potter characters would be surprised to see someone with six-pack washboard abs. Also, I like Ichigo's washboard abs because I'm a fangirl and they look great so I decided to go with a short thing on washboard abs. I don't wanna hear any complaints about Uryu not having washboard abs. I went looking through my manga collection for the few times he had an open shirt/was shirtless and none gave him the defined washboard abs that you see on most characters that run around without shirts on. Besides, I don't think washboard abs suit Uryu as much as a plain, toned stomach. All right, I'm done ranting on washboard abs(and I feel like I've used that term too much here).

I had fun doing Malfoy on the train too. I've had the idea of threatening to toss him off the train through the window for quite a while so I'm happy to finally write it. I think we'll get through sorting, possibly first day of school, next chapter. I don't know. Sorry if you think I paraphrased and skipped around a bit too much in this chapter. It's so weird. In the beginning this thing was so happy to play with the book and get itself written but for the last chapter or two it's just fought me. It's like there's always something else to draw my attention away.

Speaking of which, I've been on a slight Fullmetal Alchemist binge lately, reading a couple of FMA/Harry Potter crossovers and I was appalled. Nobody ever sends Alphonse with Edward to Harry Potter world. Al is always the reason, but he never goes with! It's just messed up! They are the Elric brothers so why does everyone leave out poor Al? Even when the two of them split up they're still working together and supporting each other. Their brotherly love and companionship is a major theme to FMA. And so I got to thinking, which led to writing Harry Potter and the Strange Brothers when I probably should have been writing Harry Potter and the Weirdos from Japan. So it's a little bit Al-centric in this one chapter, for reasons you'll understand better if you read it, with my own reflections on what it must be like to have his kind of existence mixed in. This was particularly inspired by Rue by Maya Sushi in that the reasoning that Ed and Al end up in Harry's world is that Ed pays a different price to try and get Al back, though I use that kind of idea differently. This is Harry Potter book 5 again and almost the end of FMA. Um, I think that's all I've got to say, so review for the Weirdos from Japan and maybe the Strange Brothers if you read and like it.


Harry Potter and the Strange Brothers

And so the two brothers were once more dragged through the Gates of Truth, because Truth was a little bastard like that. Edward had gone in, expecting to lose his knowledge of the Truth and alchemy but instead the little bastard had said "I've got a better idea" and the whole thing just went downhill from there. There had been no agreeing to this "better idea" and because it was in exchange for Alphonse's body and soul he had to come too.

They both supposed that they were lucky in that at least they didn't have to sacrifice any limbs or bodies this time. It could even be called lucky in that Truth had apparently seen fit to give Alphonse back his armored form, fully restored, and restore Edward to full health and working order, even if it had retaken his arm and replaced it with his latest automail, probably in exchange for restoring them to functional order, but it still sucked that Truth had randomly decided to send them through the Gate for its own purposes, which it sure as hell hadn't explained. All it had told them as it shunted them through those horrible gates was that if they "did well" it would restore them as payment because it was all about equivalent exchange. "Did well" was not a very good answer as to what they were supposed to do, much less do well, but mystery was just a part of Truth's game.

Well whatever. They had been through horrors that children their age should never see. They had been orphaned. They had survived child abuse. They had been homeless. They had been dogs of the military. They had survived, or at least not died, on the Promised Day, so they could handle whatever Truth tossed at them.

They were the Elric brothers, famous throughout Amestris, and they would survive, no matter what.


When a bright light and streaks of red lightning appeared in the roof of the kitchen of the Order of the Phoenix there was panic. The wizards and witches quickly cleared to the sides of the room, to any space that was not under the glowing circle now transcribed in the ceiling and spitting out lightning.

As the thoroughly terrified spectators watched on, there was a small explosion of dust in which two figures dropped from the glowing circle with a loud clanging and the light and electricity quickly died out after the two had been delivered onto the table below. . Moody focused his magical eye on the pair, taking in everything he could. One was small, a boy probably only about five feet tall with long hair tied back in a braid wearing a long overcoat of some sort while the other was a monstrous suit of armor, rivaling Hagrid in height from what he could tell. The boy had strange limbs, his right arm and left leg appeared to be made of very complex, almost clockwork-like elements and the armor was empty.

The boy groggily sat up, his right hand coming up to rub his head before turning to the armor beside him and nudging it.

"You okay Al?" The boy said in concern and he frowned when the armor didn't respond. "This isn't a good joke, Al." He frowned even more as the armor failed to respond. "Al! Hey Al! Alphonse!" he shouted as he continued to shake the armor.

"There's two in there, an empty suit of armor and some kid." Moody quietly mutters to the assembled adults, the children having been herded out of the room by Mrs. Weasley the moment the strange phenomenon occurred. "When the dust clears I'll stun the boy, we'll bind him up, and then we can interrogate him when he comes around." He says, laying out a very solid plan, and the others nod in agreement.

Once the dust cleared, Moody was quick to hit the boy with a stunning spell which Lupin follows up with a quick conjuring of ropes that bind the boy up. He frowns as he can now see the boy and he just looks so young, but he invaded their top secret headquarters in a very mysterious and flashy fashion, so it was necessary. He still didn't like it, after all he was just a boy, but there just wasn't much to be done about it. Sirius wears the same frown as Lupin as he levitates the boy's body off of the table.

A quick discussion and they decide it would be best to store the boy in a locked room upstairs until Dumbledore and whoever he deemed necessary arrived to interrogate the boy. They turn to leave when a sudden commotion halts them all in their tracks.

"Brother!"


Alphonse Elric slowly comes to his senses. He had been in his flesh and blood body for the first time in about five years and it had been great to have that full range of senses, but he'd have to be brain dead if he couldn't recognize that Truth had put him back into the armor. That feeling of contact with something, feeling the general texture, but no knowledge of whether it is painfully sharp or soft, hot or cold. No knowledge of what the world around him smells like and that odd seeing that came with ghostly eyes that never shut, that positioned themselves where eyes should be, even when his helmet head was not in place.

He let lose a small, practically inaudible groan from the disorientation and mental pain of readjusting to his rebonded soul. He hadn't felt real, physical pain in years, only psychosomatic ghosts that his consciousness, because he didn't even have a brain in his metal head, told him he should feel, and even those hadn't really occurred since the first two months or so of his armored life. No, going through the soul-binding and the Gate again was not a fun experience.

As his "sight" clears, he notices that he is slumped across a large wooden table in a rather earthy room with the only light in it coming from a crackling fireplace. He slowly pushes himself up as silently as possible, caution telling him it is best to make use of the stealth he has learned in the long nights in which he didn't wish to disturb his brother's sleep. And hadn't that been a learning process. Moving a large metal frame that was empty and thus highly susceptible to ringing out whenever it struck something had been a great challenge, but when you can't even take a nap, much less sleep through the night, you end up having much more time than you know what to do with. After about a month Alphonse had gained such skills that he could move through the Rockbell household without waking a soul, though he still spent most nights with his brother, just keeping watch.

Speaking of his brother, where was he?

Alphonse slowly turned his head, looking for his missing sibling. He notices people at the other end of the room with their backs turned to him, leaving the room by the look of it. And then he sees it. His brother's body defying the laws of physics and floating in the air before a stranger with wild black hair.

Alphonse does not think, he shoots straight up into a standing position and quickly discovers it to not be the wisest of moves as a racket is caused by him knocking over plates and goblets as well as hitting his helmeted head on the ceiling that he has just discovered to be fairly low. Slamming his head into the ceiling is disorienting, not because of the pain, but because it messes with the alignment of his "body parts" and confuses his control for just an instance. His new knowledge for the ceiling height is quickly adjusted for, after all he's spent nearly five years living and learning to move as a seven and a half foot armor suit, as he crouches and dashes forward towards those strangers, towards his brother.

"Brother!" he shouts because they have already turned because of all the noise his movement has caused leaving no room for stealth. The lack of response from his brother, the fact that Edward is not struggling, livid, shouting threats and demands for release, is causing dread to fill Alphonse. He continues to barrel forward, ignoring the strangers' surprise, their fear, the bright red lights they shoot at him from twigs, that doesn't make any logical sense, that just ping against his armor. He doesn't need to pay attention to them, he was practically impervious to most attacks, whatever they had tried included, and getting to his unconscious, please let it be unconscious, not dead, brother was his priority.

He pushes a balding ginger-haired man out of his way, to create a clear line to his brother, when he trips, a clinking that is not his armor, because he knows every sound it makes when he moves, informing him that his legs are bound together by metal. He claps his hands together, using the placement of his hands for transmutation to catch his fall, and sending the simple command break through the earth to whatever metal mass it is that has ensnared his legs. Alphonse does not let the brief fall interfere with his forward dash to his brother and feels so much relief when he is able to wrap his arms around him and feel the slight push on his hollow hands that lets him know his brother is breathing.

Now in possession of his sibling, Alphonse executes a quick turn that would likely sprain any flesh and blood man's ankle and hurries back the way he'd come, feeling slightly bad about having to push the same man out of his way again. Alphonse can hear the confused shouts behind him, wondering why he didn't continue his forward rush, confused by his turn back into enclosed space with no escape route. He snorts. He's seen the Gate of Truth, as long he's got two hands, he's got an escape route. Alphonse can't really count the number of times he and Edward have used alchemy to transmute a door, a tunnel, a hole in the wall to escape and this time will be no different. He shifts his brother so that he is draped over his shoulder, careful not to impale him on any of the spikes, and claps his hands together before slamming them into the wall, opening a hole and using the displaced wall to create a wall that will block any more incoming attacks from the strangers.

Moving through the hole, he finds himself in a rather creepy hallway with a very gothic design. The errant thought that Edward might kind of like this sort of design since he liked scary and monstrous looking things passes through Alphonse's mind as he looks both ways, trying to determine which route is the best for escape. Seeing a faint light and what might be open space to his right, he sprints that way, his steel feet clanking as he moves. Oh how useful it'd be in this escape if I could move without making so much noise.

When he reaches the end of the hallway he feels relieved that he seems to have picked the right way to go. It looks like an entryway and there's a door with a strange, somewhat leg-like umbrella stand next to it. Alphonse heads straight for the door, he's not his brother who likes to redecorate the world to leave reminders of who's kicked their ass and he doesn't want to damage this house more than necessary.

He's two steps from the door, from freedom and hopefully safety, his hand outstretched for the doorknob, when chains once more come wrapping around him, pinning his arms to his sides. Alphonse loses his balance and does his best to twist so that he doesn't fall on his brother or fall in a way that will hurt the incapacitated Edward. He barely succeeds in that and before he can start scooting away, trying to get his hands together to once more transmute the chains away, another set winds around his legs keeping him from going anywhere.

"Argh!" he shouts and struggles, flexing non-existent muscles in an attempt to break the chains. Twisting and turning, trying to get a position that will allow him to defend his brother, allow them to get out of here.

"I thought you said the armor was empty!" the man with the wild black hair shouts at a man with many scars and mismatched eyes. And then the hallway erupts in sound with screeching and yelling from many voices

"I did and it is." the mismatched eyes man says. "It has to be enchanted or something. A familiar or companion for the kid."

And didn't those words hurt. Alphonse has had this self-crisis already. He's already confronted his brother about being a man-made construct that was never human in the first place, a consciousness with false memories to bind it to its master. But they'd proved his existence, pounded it out with words and fists and memories. Their denial of who he was stung and hurt and he couldn't let it stand.

"That's not true!" and they all still and look at him, the screams of all those people that Alphonse doesn't see still ignored, just background noise at this point. "I may be an empty suit of armor, but we're brothers by blood! I'm alive! … I just don't have my real body anymore." The last part is said quietly, the sadness of living nearly five years as a not-quite-human being laced into it.

The small, child-like confession pulls on the maternal strings of Mrs. Weasley's heart. True or false, this living armor is a child at heart, something to be cared for, protected. And his "brother" too. They are kids and Mrs. Weasley is going to see to it that the poor dears won't suffer more than security measures require.

"That's enough Moody. It doesn't matter what he is. We'll just take him upstairs with the boy and wait for Dumbledore." she says with all the motherly authority she has.

"Doesn't matter? He's probably some sort of weapon! You saw what he did in the kitchen." the mismatched eyed man, Moody, growls.

"Yes, well he's restrained and not doing it anymore. And if you're so worried you can keep an eye on the two of them while we wait." Mrs. Weasley replies, leaving no room for argument. She will not let Moody's paranoia dictate the fate of these boys. "And would someone quiet this din. It's not going to take all of us to move them."

With Mrs. Weasley taking charge, Edward and Alphonse were floated up the stairs and locked in a room with Moody while Sirius and Lupin quieted the moving portraits. This place is so confusing.

Being trapped in a room with a grumpy old man didn't give him much to do, so Alphonse watched his brother for signs of stirring and thought. He was seriously beginning to wonder where in the world, or should it be universe because this place didn't match the description of anywhere he had heard of, Truth had dumped him and his brother to "do well". People were able to create phenomena that broke the laws of physics by flicking sticks, the sticks could shoot beams of light for unknown purposes, and the pictures moved and talked like living people. Truth had apparently decided to put them somewhere logic and science did not reign supreme. They were out of their element and had been given absolutely no time to adjust or get their bearings.

After maybe ten minutes in which the grumpy Moody keeps a keen watch on Alphonse and Edward while Alphonse thinks through the situation they're in, a wizened old man with a very long beard and twinkling eyes hidden behind half-moon spectacles wearing midnight blue robes comes in along with a man with a hook nose and greasy black hair dressed in black robes.

"So these are our guests?" the old man asks.

"Intruders and spies, more like it, but yeah, these are them." Moody gruffly replies.

"Who are you?" Alphonse asks without meaning too. There is something about this old man that feels trustworthy and kind. Besides, information is power as any skilled alchemist knows, and right now he and his brother could probably use a bit of power in this place.

"Ah, where are my manners? I'm Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Might I have the pleasure of your name and possibly your companion's as well?" the old man kindly asked.

Alphonse was trying to puzzle out what a school of "witchcraft and wizardry" would teach because magic wasn't real, even if these people did seem capable of feats ignoring some of the scientific laws. Maybe it was another name for alchemy, like the Xingese alkahestry, since it could seem rather magical to those who didn't know how alchemy worked. However, Dumbledore was patiently staring at him, waiting for a reply, so he gave one.

"I'm Alphonse Elric and this is my older brother, Edward Elric." Alphonse replies, watching them and finding that as he expected, they didn't react to his brother's name. We must be an awful long ways from home. Even Mei knew of us when she same all the way from Xing.

"I find it hard to believe that the older of you two would be the smaller." The black haired man derisively states.

Alphonse notices his brother twitch and prepares for Edward's violent reaction. It never comes, but at least Edward seems to be waking up now.


As Edward swims out of unconsciousness, he feels like there's something he should be punching someone for. He racks his brain for any idea about why and who he should be punching. Truth is a good candidate with its mysterious mission for them, but that was kind of impossible to do. It didn't feel like that was the reason either. He got sent through the Gate with Al… they landed on a table in a dust cloud… and Alphonse wasn't responding.

Edward's eyes shot open and he sat up immediately frantically searching for his brother. His eyes landed on the suit of armor sitting with its back against the bed he was in. it was looking at him and he could see the red glow of eyes that always occurred when his brother's head was attached.

"Brother! You're –" Alphonse was cut off by a solid clang as Edward hit his helmet with his right fist, unconsciously breaking the ropes with the strength of his automail arm..

"Don't you ever do something like that again!" Edward demands in a shout, fist trembling in anger. It barely even takes Alphonse a moment to realize what his brother is talking about. The exchange of his soul to get back Edward's lost arm that he had Mei perform. Alphonse didn't necessarily regret that decision, it had been his existence in that world or everyone in Amestris. It was obvious which one was more valuable. It had been frightening to give up the "life" his brother gave him, but he'd had faith that his brother would bring him back, whether it was re-sacrificing his arm or finding what was necessary to get all of him back without using a Philosopher's Stone, he knew Edward would save him.

"God, you don't know how worried I was. I was scared I'd never see you again, that I wouldn't be able to get you back again." Edward confesses, resting his forehead against Alphonse's helmet, gently beating a fist on his brother's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, brother."

"You better be or I'll make you sorry." Alphonse can hear a grin at the end of his brother's sentence, the forgiveness for doing something reckless, brave, frightening.

"Well if you're done trying to be touching with an animated hunk of metal…" the black haired man says, contempt flowing in his voice.

Edward growls and Alphonse finds so much comfort in his brother's liveliness and short fuse temper. "Oh yeah? And why don't you shut the hell up about things you don't know about!" he retorts, something in the back of his mind saying this is the guy he wanted to punch when he woke up.

The black haired man points a twig in Edward's face, that's real intimidating… yeah right, and glares at the alchemist. Edward is rather surprised when an old man with a very long beard pushes Blacky's stick away.

"Now, now, Severus, there's no need to get so confrontational. My name is Albus Dumbledore, Mr. Elric. This is Severus Snape and Alastor Moody." Dumbledore says, gesturing to Blacky and a scarred guy with mismatched eyes.

"How do you know my name?" Edward cuts in before Dumbledore can say anything more.

"I told him." Alphonse replies. "I didn't think it would hurt anything to let them know our names." Edward frowns a bit at this, after all who knows what people might try to do to a State Alchemist after all with the whole dog of the military thing, but he trusts Alphonse's judgment, so he remains silent.

"Who do you work for? Where are you from? What did you do to the wall downstairs?" Snape demands. He knows that Voldemort would have mentioned having a walking suit of armor for a servant. The human appearance made a person turn to stunning spells that apparently had no effect on it, not to mention how it was able to manipulate materials in the house made it a great weapon that the Dark Lord would not hesitate in using. He had inspected the newly made wall and doorway and still couldn't understand what this "Alphonse Elric" had done to it.

"Colonel Roy Mustang. Resembool. And you're gonna hafta ask Al 'cause I was unconscious." Edward blandly states. It was a risky gamble drawing Mustang in, who knows what he'll want for repayment, but it was also a test to see what their captors knew.

"I just transmuted a hole in the wall. You guys didn't exactly seem friendly when you were taking Edward away." Alphonse explains. "I can fix it later if you want."

"A colonel? You're military?" Moody asks. He doesn't recognize the name, after all the wizards don't have a rank-and-file military, at least not in Britain.

"Yeah, but just me. Alphonse isn't." Edward says.

"That's rather surprising as you seem quite young, Mr. Elric." Dumbledore says. "May I inquire as to what your rank and age are?"

"Sure. I'm sixteen and my position is equivalent to a Major. Al is a year younger than me, so he's fifteen."

"You're position is 'equivalent' to a major?" Snape asks, noticing the specific wording there. "And what exactly is your 'position'?"

"I'd like to know who you people are first, then I'll tell you." Edward bargains. It's equivalent exchange, he tells them some about him and his brother, they tell him some about them.

"You're in ono position to be bargaining, boy." Moody growls and Edward laughs at him. "What's so funny?"

"Ah, sorry." Edward says. "It's just that I'm in a perfectly good position for bargaining. I have information you want, don't necessarily need information from you, and I can offer you an easier route than torturing me to get that information."

"You're trapped hear with no escape." Snape says, displeased with how this child believes himself to be fairly in control of the situation.

"There's always a chance to escape as long as you're not dead." Alphonse says. And don't the two brothers know it. So many close calls and almosts, but they stayed alive and got away to live another day.

Once more it is Dumbledore who takes the lead in breaking tensions. "That is quite true. I see no reason though, Alastor, Severus, that we can't also disclose our occupations as Mr. Elric and Mr. Elric are doing. As I previously told your brother, I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Severus is the potions master at Hogwarts and the Slytherin head of house and Alastor is a retired auror."

"Auror?" Alphonse asks. Edward is still trying to work through the fact that apparently there's some sort of "magic" school, much like Alphonse had when he heard of it. He was also curious as to what an "auror" was, but found the belief in magic of these people to be a more pressing issue as insane or delusional people can be quite hard to deal with.

"I see you are unfamiliar with the term. Aurors are an equivalent to police officers and, to a certain extent, military men. Their job is to deal with dark wizards and criminals and other situations that may require combat skills." Dumbledore explains, always happy to teach.

"Well that explains all the scars." Edward mutters. "But magic isn't real." He says in a louder voice. "There's scientific phenomena and tricks of the eye that people without knowledge may consider magic, but it is impossible to truly pull a rabbit or anything else out of thin air. We should know, we're alchemists." The wizards stare at him in surprise. Alchemists are so rare nowadays and Nicholas Flamel had been the last one of any fame. They watch as Edward reaches into his pocket and pulls out a silver pocket watch with some sort of dragon-ish design in a hexagram on it. "I'm a State Alchemist of Amestris, code named the Fullmetal Alchemist." he says rather proudly. Sure, having to take orders from Mustang sucked, but he was a damn good alchemist, clearly shown by the fact that he was the youngest person to ever become a State Alchemist.

Dumbledore was the first to get over his surprise. He smiled benignly at Edward, leaving the short alchemist annoyed and very much ready to mouth off to the old man about how he wasn't just some kid. He hated those looks from adults that said 'I know something you don't and you're foolish for not knowing it'.

"I'm afraid I've never heard of Amestris," Dumbledore says, to which Edward mutters an "obviously" under his breath, "but magic is quite real, Mr. Elric. Here I'll show you." And with that, Dumbledore gives his wand a flick and conjures several comfortable chintz chairs out of thin air.

"Holy shit." Edward mutters and Alphonse can't help but share the sentiment.


Author's Note (again)

So what do you guys think? Love it? Hate it? Let me know. I won't publish it now, but if you guys think it's good I might end up writing it out more. I don't know if you guys have picked up on this, but I like to write from inside a character's head, what they feel, what they think of others, and all those private things they never say aloud but you get the impression they're thinking. So this was really fun for me to try and think about what it'd be like to be a living suit of armor like Al.

Anywho, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Please comment/review to tell me how I did.