Author's Note: So this is the fastest turnaround we've had in awhile. Summer break is a gift from the gods. We've officially past the hundred page mark in Microsoft Word, so that's a milestone. Enjoy the read, and tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: WolfishMoon owns neither Hiromu Arakawa's Fullmetal Alchemist nor J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter. She never claims the contrary and makes no money from the online publication of this free-to-read fanwork.

Chapter 16

Coming to Accords

In the past weeks, Alphonse had been eagerly eating up the mothering that Mrs. Weasley had been all too eager to put down. She wasn't his mother, and that rankled, but Al was only fifteen. After fighting in a war, there was something nice about being mothered. He wanted to experience the childhood he had been denied.

Despite that desire, Al was also aware that he wasn't a child in the same way that Ginny, Hermione, Harry, or Ron were children. So when, after his and Ed's customary spar, Ed decided to take a few books out to the orchard to read, Alphonse decided to do something about it.

"Mrs. Weasley?" he said, poking his head tentatively into the kitchen. While Ed had studied firstly English swear words, Al had made a point to master the honorifics.

"Alphonse?" She was seated at the table, sipping tea with one eye warily watching a pot of oatmeal she had put on.

"Zere is somezing I vould like to talk to you about."

"Did you have a nightmare?" Mrs. Weasley was up and out of her chair in a moment. "Ed was so foolish for bringing you with him on his hair brained scheme yesterday!"

"Nein." Well. That was a lie. Alphonse had a few nightmares, sure enough. He'd had the same ones he'd been having all along, of the Promised Day. The usual ones. "I didn't haff any nightmares."

"Oh," said Mrs. Weasley, deflating suddenly. "That's good."

"Vee valked into an empty shop, Mrs. Weasley. I haff seen vorse." In Al's estimation, there had been nothing remotely traumatizing about the previous day.

"I'm sure you have, sweetie. If ever you want to talk about that, I'm here." She carefully guided the both of them into chairs. Alphonse let himself be led, even if it rather belayed his point.

Alphonse was always the younger Elric brother. Even when he was a hulking suit of armor that could loom over people with the best of them, his voice had yet to change. But at least in Amestris he was respected.

"You are missing zee point."

"Am I?"

"You fought in the last skirmish against Voldemort, right?" Al said, deciding to take a new tack.

"I did," said Mrs. Weasley. "And I still have nightmares from some of the worse fights sometimes. It's completely normal."

Alphonse sighed heavily. This was getting ridiculous, he didn't want to undermine Mrs. Weasley's experience. But. "You fought in zee last skirmish, and I haff probably seen more combat zan you."

"What? Alphonse, I was in a war." Al wouldn't rate either 'war' with Voldemort as one, but he wasn't going to put that so indelicately.

"Ed and I fought in one, too. I've read zee materials on zee first var against Voldemort, zere vere simply more combat situations in ours. Beyond just zee basic battles ov zee var, Ed had a knack vor getting himself into trouble. Vee had people trying to kill us left and right, and mostly it vasn't our fault." Mostly.

Mrs. Weasley was slack jawed and Alphonse felt a small twinge of guilt. He didn't want to be the one to wreck her fantasies about childhood. "But you're so young!" she finally managed to say.

"Ed joined our military at twelve years old. He vas talented enough zat zey did not care, or so vee zought. Later vee realized zat vee both vere talented enough zat zey vanted us on a leash, so zey could kill us later. Vee helped throw a military coup, and Ed himself struck zee final blow on zee man behind it all." Alphonse put a hand on her shoulder. "It has been a long time since eizer ov us has been mothered, und vee appreciate it. But vee had to be adults vor so long zat it grates, sometimes."

Mrs. Weasley blinked, crossed her arms under her breasts. "I would have thought I'd hear about something like that."

Alphonse wasn't ready to tell Mrs. Weasley that he and Ed were from another world, instead he bluffed. "How much attention do you pay to muggle affairs?"

"Not enough, apparently." Mrs. Weasley said, glancing to the ceiling. "What where you so talented in?"

"Vat do you think?" Alphonse said, grinning. "Alchemy!"

Blank faced, Mrs. Weasley asked, "Is that a military skill?"

"It can be," said Alphonse honestly. "Brother's direct superior burned people alive by altering zee oxygen level in zee air. Ed's specialty is stone and metal work. Vhen vee first met Miss Tonks, you'll remember zat he wrapped her in fist made of concrete. It vas automatic, because for years it had to be automatic." Alphonse would never forget the look of horror on her face in that moment. It was horrifying, the way people invented ways to kill each other.

The pot of oatmeal Mrs. Weasley had on the stove was starting to burn, but neither party noticed. Mrs. Weasley had her hands folded on the table, and clearly there was effort involved to keep from wringing them. "I didn't know. Alchemy always seemed so academic."

"To train zee mind, one must first train zee body. Our teacher beat zat into us. Not every Alchemist sees as vee do, but it is our opinion and Teacher's opinion zat book learning is inherently linked to zee physical. Our teacher hated zee military, but her philosophy taught us to survive it."

"I suppose," she said. But it was very clear she didn't agree.

"Vee can take care ov ourselves."

She shook her head. "I suppose you can," she said. But it was very clear she didn't agree with that either.

Alphonse sat with Mrs. Weasley the rest of the day, deciding she needed the company. She knitted and answered his questions as he read through a few massive textbooks, scratched her head when he pulled out the paper and pencil and tried to work out some of the equations that had been sent to his brother in Ollivander's last letter.

As morning turned to afternoon and Al helped Mrs. Weasley set up lunch for the horde, Alphonse said, "Please don't tell Ed I told you. He doesn't vant you to pity him."

"I won't," Mrs. Weasley promised. "I won't tell anyone."

That was all well and good, because Alphonse wasn't quite sure anyone would believe it.

Edward came in from his studying for lunch. He and Granger were dragged from the shade of an apple tree by Ginny.

"You have to eat something," she said.

"I brought snacks," said Hermione. Ed just shrugged – he may have always had a ravenous appetite, but books always took precedence over food and sleep and just about anything.

"Get in the bloody house." Girl Ginger wasn't going to take no for an answer, and so with a heavy sigh Edward gathered his books, and some of Granger's besides.

She guarded one book jealously enough that Ed had not even the chance to flip through it. When he tried to surreptitiously slip it into his own pile, Granger snatched it from him before he could do more than glimpse the title. The Art of Memory. Ed took note.

The books were all piled into their respective extendable bags, and the three of them trudged into the lopsided Burrow.

Inside, Al wore a carefully cheerful face. The Matron of the Red Hair had turned quiet and watchful. If Ed had been expecting a lecture, he didn't get one. Lunch was cheerful, but there was a tension about the previous day's events. Harry's shoulders were hunched, and Ed reckoned that the boy was carrying misplaced guilt over the events of his birthday.

Didn't Ed know that when you were set up to believe that you carried the world on your shoulders, every bad thing felt like it was your own fault? He certainly did. Their meal was interrupted half-way, as Ed was becoming accustomed, to the arrival of several owls. The booklists that the pocus-principal had been struggling to put together had arrived.

Ed felt a creeping sense of self-satisfaction at their appearance, and looked over Alphonse's shoulder at the letter. The first page was the usual scholarly bluster about admittance, but the second one was of serious interest.

Al's booklist had been altered from other students to display the particular highlights of the curriculum. Many of them Ed recognized from Granger's tutoring sessions. The girl had done a very good job catching Alphonse up to speed even while keeping up with her own summer school work. At the bottom of the letter, disregarding the fact that Al had already purchased his, there was a notice.

Due to the remarkable foresight of Garrick Ollivander, this year Hogwarts School will be providing all unequipped first years with wands free of charge.

Ed chuckled, and as the people around the table came to stare at him he snatched Al's letter and waved it in the air. "Ollivander is fery smart man," he said by way of explanation. "Free vands vor zee first year students. I bet Moldyman vas not expecting zat!"

Ginny choked on her sandwich.

The attention was quickly stolen by Potter's appointment to Quidditch Captain and Mrs. Weasley's realization that she could no longer put off taking her children to Diagon Alley.

"I know zat Alphonse already has his supplies, but I vill come along. I haff some business regarding zee donation ov zee vands to attend to at Gringotts."

And there was the lecture he'd been waiting for. "Can we trust you in Diagon Alley, Edward?"

"I'll stay out ov your vay, Frau Weasley." Ed stood from the table, took his plate to the sink, and swept from the room to return to his studies. If he thought Mrs. Weasley was going to seek him out to yell at him as Maria Ross once did, he was wrong.

When it came time for Ed to meet Al for their evening work out and spar, Mrs. Weasley dragged a chair out to the orchard to watch them. Ed looked at Alphonse for explanation, but Al only shrugged. Mrs. Weasley didn't take the opportunity to finish her lecture, but she watched intensely. Her brown eyes flickered across the action, and without giving it the barest attention, her knitting needles clicked relentlessly.

What Al told the Matron of the Red Hair, Ed didn't know. But Ed knew from Mrs. Weasley's uncharacteristically restrained tongue that Alphonse must have said something.

Over the next few days, Ed tried to focus on his studies, on training with Al, on biting back the guilt that was mounting on the subject of the pocus-kids' lack of combat training. But he was driven to distraction by the Mrs. Weasley's suddenly watchful figure. Abruptly halted all mentions of Alphonse's boyhood. Mentions Ed's own youth also disappeared.

In the mornings, she set oatmeal to cook itself joined Ginny in the audience of their sessions. Mother and daughter never looked so alike as they sat, Ginny cross-legged and Mrs. Weasley in an old lawn chair, at the edge of their makeshift training ground.

For the rest of that week, dinner remained an extravagant affair, but the other meals had been pared down to utter simplicity. Breakfast and lunch were still delicious, it goes without saying, but they were designed so that the cooking of them could go almost completely unmonitored.

When she wasn't watching Ed and Al, she was watching the other children. Ed decided that she was likely measuring them up. Comparing. Assessing. And whatever determinations she was making, she wasn't sharing.

The days ticked onward to Saturday with Mrs. Weasley resolutely watching everyone. Ed began to develop a sense of when she was near – his skin would prickle and he knew that the Matron was watching him.

Despite the unexpected monitor, Ed managed to proceed with both his studies and with his negotiations with Pig Fungus's principal. By the time Saturday rolled around, the two of them had come to a suitable agreement.

The school would pay Ollivander's a small sum for the wands, and that money would be put in a vault that Ed would open. The vault would be presented to Garrick when he was found, as an extra fund to help him get back on his feet when he was found.

As good as their plans for the wands were, there was absolutely no progress on potential plans to storm this Malfoy place. With the lack of movement there, Ed grew ever more antsy. Why wasn't anyone doing anything? Ollivander was an important member of the community, Ed had begun to realize. Almost every pocus-person in England had at least one interaction with the man under their belts.

So why?

By the time Saturday rolled around, Ed was full ready to mount an assault against Malfoy Manor by himself. He could probably get Tonks to help, and where she went Lupin followed. Ed reminded himself that the numbers were most certainly against him. Al isn't invincible anymore, Ed thought. He can't play the tank this time.

Ed stood on the front door to the Burrow. "Since vhen do vizards use cars?"

The Patron of the Red Hair was along for this particular mission, and even despite the worry that had settled over both him and his wife over the past days he was cheerful. "We're to be incognito, today."

"Harder to intercept than the Floo," Mrs. Weasley said honestly. "We're taking Harry out of the wards, so the ministry wants to be careful."

Ed snorted. "I've never seen any government be zis try-hard vhen it comes to zee people zey vant to use." When the Amestrian military put him on a leash, it involved teasing him with the answers to everything he wanted. The leash extended to the very boarders of the nation.

That's why it took him so long to recognize it for what it was.

"Hey!" said Harry, and Ed looked at him with a certain amount of pity. Soon this child would be his student, and maybe Ed should make an attempt at pulling him to the side to talk about this whole mess.

"Don't lie to yourself," he said. "Your Ministry vill be very happy vhen you make zeir problems go avay."

Ron shrugged. "He's not wrong, mate."

"He didn't have to phrase it quite so bluntly," said Hermione, sending Ed a scowl the size of the moon. Ed slid into the back seat of the car, and turned his attention to wondering how they were all going to fit into the thing.

Ed needn't have worried. His eyes grew as the car did. With each passenger that slid into the vehicle, the interior of the car widened to accommodate them. He tried to picture Winry's response to this kind of enchantment. Would it be awe? Or would it be fury over the warping of the engineer's original intention?

Surely, whenever he modified his automail using alchemy, the response was fury.

The magical extension of the interior, however enraged or pleased Winry might be by it, made the ride more pleasant than Ed was anticipating. Soon enough, the car was pulling up along an entirely unremarkable street. So unremarkable, in fact, Ed found it hard to focus on any particular feature of it. There was clearly no pub on this block, but the car pulled to the curb anyway. A large man was waiting for them outside.

"Vas?" he said, suddenly on alert. "Zis doesn't look like your Leaky Cauldron."

"Don't be silly, bruder," said Al. "It's right zere!"

But it couldn't be! Forcing his mind to focus, Ed could plainly see that there was a flower shop, a bakery, a hardware store. Nothing like the street he thought he'd seen out the windows of the pub when he'd been taken there by green fire. Had they all gone mad?

"Vee haff been duped!" Ed said, leaping out of he car and putting a knife to the large man's ribcage. "It's a trap! Zee driver must haff been in league vis zee Moldy-fellow!"

"Shh!" said Granger, gesturing to the startled looking people on he street "Do you want to violate the Statute of Secrecy? Put that knife down! Where did you even get that?"

Why was no one concerned?

"Leave Hagrid alone!" said Harry. "He hasn't done anything to you!"

"He's a threat!"

"Pick us back up in a few hours," the Patron of the Red Hair told the driver before firmly taking Ed by the arm. "Put the knife away, Ed." Maybe it wasn't the Moldy-fellow behind this, and the group that had been duped. Cold fear gripped his belly. Maybe the pocus-people had decided they no longer wanted their secret compromised by a random muggle, even if they were alchemists. Ed began to bring his right hand to clap against his restrained left, but was surprised by Alphonse taking it.

"I've been reading about zese," said Al. The expression on his face was grim, and his body unyielding. "Muggle repelling charms."

"Vas?" Muggle what? Ed would continue resisting, but he trusted Al. He wanted to trust Al. There was no way his baby brother was involved in a conspiracy against him.

"The poor thing," The Matron of the Red hair was staring at him with undisguised pity.

"I have to drag my parents through every time," said Granger. "They've gotten better at recognizing what's happening."

As the herd of them neared the brick expanse that Ed had assumed was just part of the abnormally broad flower shop storefront, he noticed himself getting increasingly distra- was that a threat over on that other street? Should he fig- Oh. It was more of that magic shit, clouding his sight.

Ed fought to regain control of his mind, and as Mr. Weasley reached forward as though to open a door, the fog lifted from his eyes. A door. An empty pub. And they were just far enough away for Ed to see the sign. A deeply cracked cauldron.

"Now you see? You're safe," said Granger, gesturing at the door. "If there was any doubt about your muggle-ness, this proves it."

"Why would there be any doubt?" said Boy Savior.

"You haven't seen him perform alchemy," said Granger. Alphonse released his arm, and Mr. Weasley did likewise.

"Never heard of muggles being able to do it." Boy Ginger took great pleasure in bodily shoving him through the doorway, and it took Ed everything he had not to register it as a threat. He looked around instead of spinning on a dime and wrecking the boy. His first glance through the window had been correct. The pub was empty, and the barkeep was looking at them hopefully.

"I don't think you'd ever heard of it, Ronald." Granger flipped her bushy hair, and put her nose firmly in the air.

"Just passin' through today, Tom," said the large man.

"Sorry," said Ed, half to the barkeep and half to the large man. They made their way through the pub as a group and arrived at the now-familiar entrance to Diagon Alley. "You could haff varned me zat vould happen!"

"I forgot?" said Alphonse.

"You said you vere just reading about zee things!"

"We just forget that you're not one of us," said the Patron of the Red Hair. "You'll be teaching at Hogwarts in the fall, and that just says wizard."

"Yer a teacher!" said the large man, grinning broadly. Friendly, for someone Ed might have made a serious attempt at killing

"Yes?"

"Rubeus Hagrid, at yer service," he said. "Jus' call me Hagrid, everyone does. I'll be lookin' forward to workin' wi' you!"

"You vork at zee school?" Ed said.

"Care o' Magical Creatures," said Hagrid. "And Keeper o' the Keys and Grounds."

"I'm sorry I zreatened you, bevore." Ed made a show of pocketing the knife and sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Not to worry," said Hagrid. "Toothpick wouldn't'a scratched me – I'm half giant."

"Oh," said Ed, blinking. Half giant? "Zat's incredible."

"Hagrid's the best," said Harry fondly. "I didn't know that Order protection would mean you!"

"Jus' like old times, innit?" Hagrid ruffled the boy's hair, and Ed realized that this half giant – whatever that meant – might be the only person that saw Harry Potter for what he was.

Ed turned to Alphonse. "Do you want to go to the bank with me or stay with the Weasleys?" Ed asked Al in Amestrian once everyone was through the brick archway.

Alphonse shrugged. "I don't want to get in the way of business," he said. Edward hadn't realized that Al somewhat resented being left in the lobby of Gringotts with Tonks until just that moment.

"You wouldn't get in the way."

"If you're sure!" Alphonse's face brightened, and Ed laughed aloud.

"You never get in the way, Al," Ed said before switching into English. "Vee're going to zee bank. Meet you back here?"

"Meet us at the twins' shop," said Mrs. Weasley. If that wasn't proof Al had said something, Ed didn't know what was. "Be safe."

Ed agreed, he liked the Twin Gingers. So off they went through the brick archway. "All things considered," Ed said to Alphonse in Amestrian. "I think I prefer that Floo bullshit to Muggle Repelling whosits."

"Why didn't you attack?" Al said.

"I think it's because I want to be able to trust them," said Ed. "It was a moment of weakness. If they had been planning anything untoward, I would be sitting in a dark alley with no memory."

"If they tried anything, I would have gotten you out." Alphonse put a hand on Ed's shoulder, and Ed placed his own on top of it.

"Thank you," he said. "But I'm starting to think this whole Voldemort thing is why the Truth sent us here."

"You do know his actual name!"

"Yup," said Ed. "I just think it and he are both ridiculous."

"We're uniquely qualified to understand the opposing view," Al said. Ed thought of their father, trying everything to experience age like a normal man. To grow old and die with their mother, only to come back unsuccessful and find her already dead.

"We are."

Ahead was the bank, the walk having gone quickly in the nigh vacant streets of Diagon Alley. "You'll really like Nyorok," said Ed, even though he wasn't quite sure that was true. Al had lost some of his naivety following everything, but he was still by nature optimistic. Nyorok was not.

"I'm sure I will brother!" Al said, practically sparkling with enthusiasm. Unless Al's inherent likeability was literal magic, Ed was pretty sure Nyorok would hate him.

"So this is Alphonse, the wizard brother," were the first words out of Nyorok's mouth as the three of them settled in his office.

"Hi!" Al extended a hand, and Nyorok shook it.

"Your brother's told me much about you."

"Only good sings, I hope!" Al said.

"He said you were a wizard," said Nyorok, lip curling slightly.

"So not good sings," Al said. "I definitely agree zat zis whole wizard sing is weird."

"Worse than weird, child," Nyorok said, but the curled lip had curled in the other direction, and Ed breathed out a sigh of relief. "If ever you need help navigating their systems, you come to Gringotts, you understand?"

"I vill! Sank you, Mr. Nyorok!" said Alphonse and Ed decided that maybe Al's inherent likeability was a form of accidental magic.

Everybody likes Alphonse, even the crankiest of goblins. "You're quite welcome. Now, I assume the two of you are here to iron out the plan for wand pairing?"

"Yup," said Ed. "Apparently one ov zee professors – a Flickwhip person, I believe? – is going to handle the matching. Apparently he apprenticed vis Ollivander before starting in vis his dueling career."

"Flitwick," corrected Nyorok. "Half-goblin. He would be the best choice, I think."

"You only say zat because he's half-goblin." Ed waved an accusatory hand.

"Of course," said Nyorok. "He's at least half sensible."

Ed rolled his eyes. "Still. How are vee going to get zee magic-sticks to zee school?"

"I will personally handle their transport," said Nyorok. "I will have a hundred of the most likely combinations there in time for the Sorting."

Ed looked at him strangely. Nyorok hated wizards. He wouldn't have thought he'd like to take such a high level of involvement.

"Consider it a personal favor to Flitwick." Nyorok steadily met Ed's eyes, but he could not help but feel he was being fed a load of bull. "He's my cousin through my mother's side."

Ed decided to accept it for what it was. "Dumbledore sent me a list vis vat Flitwick reckons would be zee best combinations. Send me an inventory list ov zee ones you decide to bring."

"I will."

"As vor payment from zee school, I need to open a vault vor it to be deposited into," Ed said.

"We can do that," Nyorok said.

When all was said and done, Ed had a second vault key tucked with the first in the pocked against his ribs. Nyorok shook both their hands firmly, and Ed and Al took off to the only brightly colored and lively place left in Diagon Alley. There was bravery in keeping cheerful and making people laugh even as the world fell to pieces around you, Ed decided. He admired it.

As they neared the door to the shop, Ed saw what might have possibly been the strangest thing he'd seen yet. Three pairs of feet making their way down the street, and unless he was very much mistaken, he recognized the shoes. He nudged Al, pointed.

Al jumped. "What in the world?" he whispered in Amestrian. Ed shrugged, and melted into the side of the joke shop.

"Let's follow 'em!"

"Alright," said Al. "I wonder what they're up to!"

Ed put a finger to his lips, and the two of them fell to silence, following the feet.

But the feet were hesitant in their motions, keeping to shadowed spots, and when Ed looked for a reason he realized that they were following someone else. A blonde boy about Ed's age who was doing a very bad job at being sneaky.

They turned down a corner onto a street Ed had not been on before. If Diagon Alley had been quiet, then this place pulsed with a seedy undercurrent. Ed and Al followed the feet, and the feet followed the blond, until the boy strode into a shop called Borgin and Burkes. Okay. So an unsneaky kid was going to a shop his parents might not approve of. Big whoop.

Ed put a hand on Al's shoulder to turn and leave when a wrinkled ear on a string tumbled out from whatever was hiding them. Ed turned back to the action, sending Al a quizzical look. Al shrugged. Were Granger, Potter, and Ginger Boy severing human ears now?

Ed thought the answer to that was likely no, judging from what he'd seen of their personalities, but they were distinctly weird.

Ed heard a spare word escape the feet. Malfoy. This blonde twerp was affiliated with the Malfoy place Garrick was likely being kept? What? It took everything he had not to dash into the shop and lay the boy out right there. But no. He wasn't as brash as he used to be, Ed told himself, and waited.

Eventually, the blonde came out of the shop. Ed decided to ignore the feet and follow the blonde instead. Out of the corner of his eye, Ed saw the Granger girl appear and enter the shop – probably trying to figure out what the boy's business there had been. Ed waited until he, Al, and the blonde were passing a likely crevice before grabbing the boy by the wrist and yanking him between two crumbling brick buildings.

Alphonse performed the alchemy that brought the cobblestone street up and over the boy's feet while Ed held him still. "You haff affiliation vis zee Moldy-person!"

"What?" the boy blubbered. The fear in his eyes was real and strong. Good.

"You haff my friend in zee Malfoy place!"

"Sorry to do zis," Alphonse said, molding cobblestone into shackles around the boy's wrists. "But vee really must get our friend back."

"Malfoy place? You mean my house?" the boy said. "I can't keep track of every prisoner the Dark Lord decides to put there! Let me go!"

"You own zee Malfoy place?"

"My father does!" said the boy. "Don't you recognize me?"

"Should I?" said Ed.

The boy managed to pull a self-important mask over his face even despite his situation. "I'm Draco Malfoy and that means you're going to let me go, or things won't go so well for you."

"You say zat like I should be impressed, but I am muggle being dragged into all zis magic crap, so you vill find I haff no vay ov knowing who you are or vat zat means. I don't care, eizer."

Malfoy looked from Ed to Al to the cobblestone that had been so cleverly manipulated. He spit at Al, who sidestepped it neatly. "You're a dirty mudblood, then. And you're the filth he comes from."

"Oh shut up," said Ed. "Your valse bravado doesn't make you zreatening."

"What do you want?"

"I vant my friend. You probably know him – Garrick Ollivander?"

"Ollivander's friends with a muggle?" said Draco. "Always said I should have bought my wand from Gregorovitch – the man has plainly lost it."

"Whether he's senile or not isn't the question." It had to be granted that Garrick was eccentric, but he wouldn't say anything bad about one of the only scientific minds he'd encountered among these wizards.

"Vee really just vant to know vhere he is, and how to get him out," said Alphonse, clasping his hands together. How Al managed to look the very picture of innocence while interrogating people was another thing Ed suspected was magic.

"He's in my basement. They made me bring him down there. Good luck getting him out."

"Zen you'll get him out vor us," said Ed. "Or else."

"No way," Malfoy said, flatly. "Not worth it."

"Not vorth your miserable life?" Ed was sick of this kid's shit.

"I think you'd kill me quickly." It was the only thing the boy had said that sounded genuine. "It's preferable to the alternative."

Oh. It was true – it wasn't in Ed to cause undue pain. Or to kill in cold blood at all, really. "Get him out for me," Ed said. "And I will help you get your home back." Because that was the issue, wasn't it? This child felt a prisoner in his own home.

Draco laughed at the suggestion. "How?"

"I'll kill zis Moldy-person myself."

"Hilarious."

"Iv he's dead, you're free," said Alphonse. "And vee can do it, iv we haff inside help and a vay out ov zere."

"You're crazy," said Draco. "You're a muggle and a mudblood, you'd be dead. On second thought, maybe I should help you into the house – it would put you in the grave where you belong."

"I'm told I ought to prefer zee term muggleborn." Al's cobblestone restraints crept up Malfoy's limbs a fraction. Malfoy didn't look impressed.

"Good show, but this is a party trick. And what can you do." Draco turned to Ed. "A muggle would be defenseless."

"I'm not defenseless," Ed said. "And I von't prove myself to you."

"Right." Malfoy rolled his eyes and Ed idly wondered how this little twit managed to be infuriating despite his current position.

"Vorget vat vee are. Iv you could, vould you kick zee Moldy out ov your house?"

The brief pause that stretched before Malfoy said no was telling enough. "Help us, and vee vill help you," said Alphonse. "We can get you out ov zere – anyone can see you're floundering."

"You don't know the first thing about me."

"But vee know somezing about children in vartime," said Ed. "Vee haff been zere, haff been soldiers for a truly evil regime."

"They have my mother," said Draco. "So I don't know who you think I am or you are, but I've chosen my side in this." It was the only reason Ed might have understood.

"Zere vas zee advantage to our mozer being dead," Ed said, trying to sound flippant. "No one could use her against us."

Alphonse shrugged. "Zey used me against you a few times."

This was true. "Vamily is important," Ed said. "You get us Ollivander, vee vill get her out ov zere."

Draco Malfoy regarded Ed carefully. "If you can keep her from being prosecuted for her crimes by Dumbledore's groupies, we have an accord."

Ed wasn't sure that he had any control over what the Order did to her, but he wasn't going to turn that down. Ed made a point to undo the alchemically imposed restraint on Malfoy's right hand, ignoring his look of surprise, and extended his. They shook.

"Zee name is Edward Elric," Ed said. "If you need to contact us, send zee owl to me."

"I vish vee had someone here to bind zee deal in zee vay vizards do." Alphonse looked at Malfoy with an intensity that worried Ed. "How do vee know you von't betray us?"

"Aren't you a wizard?" Draco said. "You can be our binder."

"I'm underage. I can't use magic out of school."

"But you just did!" Draco gestured with his free hand at the cobblestone. Ed snorted.

"Vasn't magic." Ed kept his voice casually neutral. "Any muggle could do it, iv zey knew how. It can do a lot more zan shape stone." His eyes were heavy with intimation and promise of what would come if Malfoy reneged on them.

"The ministry can't detect underage use here," Malfoy said. "There's too much magic in the air."

Was it worth the risk? Ed decided that it was. He nodded to Alphonse, who withdrew his giant ash wand. Malfoy's eyebrows shot into his hair at the sight of the thing.

"If you're lying about zis," Alphonse said, eyeing the cobblestone around Malfoy's left hand and feet. "Clasp hands, Ed say your terms."

Ed and Malfoy clasped hands, and even though he had no idea what he was doing or what it meant, Ed said, "Do you swear to help us free my friend Garrick Ollivander?"

"I do," said Draco, and a burst of flame issued from Alphonse's wand and wrapped around their hands. Al looked astounded. It was the first magic he had ever performed, Ed realized. Alphonse was an alchemical prodigy, but even so it was amazing that this first attempt worked.

"Do you swear to protect his fellow prisoners as much as you can?"

"I do," said Draco. Another burst of flame.

"To keep zis conversation and our existence secret vrom Voldemort?"

"I do," Another flame. "He would kill me as surely as the spell."

"To help us vhen it comes time to kill him?"

"I do." That was the end of Ed's demands, and so the table turned. "Do you swear to help me stay alive?"

"I do," said Ed, somewhat regretting he had not asked Malfoy to do the same. Another flame.

"To help my mother stay alive?"

"I do."

"To protect us from prosecution when the war is over?"

"I do." By this point, there were so many tongues of flame wrapped about their hands, it looked almost like a single ball.

"And to help, when the time comes to kill the Dark Lord?"

The same term Ed had ended with. A wise choice. "I do."

"It is done, I believe," said Alphonse, and the flame around their hands blazed bright. For the first time since they had begun the process, it burned. Their hands tightened in reaction to the pain, and then it was over.

"Vat did I just do?" Ed trusted Al, but he really wasn't sure what precisely he'd just done.

"An Unbreakable Vow," Draco said. "Only way I'd trust the likes of you."

"Fatal," said Alphonse. "If anyone violates zee terms. Couldn't trust him not to tell Voldemort to tighten security and come avter us."

Malfoy glared at Alphonse a moment, who shrugged in response. "I'm gentle," he said. "But never mistake zat vor naïve."

Ed clasped his hands together and released the cobblestones from Malfoy's body. "Good luck," he said. "Vee can correspond to come up vis plan."

"I have some ideas," said Malfoy, and Ed got the distinct impression he'd already been thinking of ways to escape with his mother in tow. "I'll be in touch."

He began to turn around, but then turned back. "Was that alchemy?"

Startled, Ed agreed. "How did you know? Most vizards don't know much about it."

Malfoy smirked. "It's a hobby of mine. I was excited to see it offered as an elective this year."

Ed froze, and had to stop himself from laughing. He'd be seeing a lot of this boy, then. "I hope you know more about it zan most ov zeese vizards."

"I know a little," Malfoy said. "After a year with a proper teacher? Who knows. Maybe I'll be better at it than you two."

Oh it was on. If Ed had entertained the idea that he would tell Malfoy upfront about his professorial status, he wasn't going to now. Why ruin the surprise? Both he and Alphonse laughed.

"I'll be starting at Hogwarts zis fall," Alphonse said. "Maybe vee can study together."

"Maybe," said Malfoy. "If you can keep up with proper wizarding stock."

"I sink I can," Alphonse said. "Zat spell I just did? Zat vas zee first one I ever performed, and I sink vee all felt it take." Malfoy's jaw dropped, and Al grinned. "See you at Hogvarts."

Ed decided to let Al have his dramatic exit, so the two of them turned from Malfoy in unison and walked back to Diagon Alley and the bright colors of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

Word Count: 6,325

This is the second time this story has broken my record for chapter length. And after a mere nine days!

I know I've made some questionable decisions this chapter, but the characters insisted. We are now treading into highly AU territory. Tell me what you thought!