Hello! I present you the update that's a few days late lol Thank you all for the wonderful and awesome reviews, favorites and follows on the previous chapter, and I hope you'll like this chapter too.

I won't be taking too much of your time now. Enjoy reading!

Guide: Conversations from Ed, Al, Riza and Roy in "italic form" would be in Amestrian language. I do know that Amestrians use the English language but they're in a different world now.

Author's Disclaimer: The familiar characters belong to their rightful owners, Hiromu Arakawa and J.K. Rowling.

Chapter II

Advanæ

Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London, 08 August 1995

The Order meeting just ended.

Harry almost ran down the flight of stairs after passing the portrait of Walburga Black, leaving Ron and Hermione bickering – again – in hushed tones in his shared room with the former; he could not wait to hear from Sirius what the meeting had been all about. When he reached the basement kitchen, expecting it to be half-empty, he did a double-take to see it quite packed – most of the Order members stayed for dinner this time, including Dumbledore, McGonagall, and – Harry felt something sink in his stomach – Snape. He rarely saw them in Grimmauld Place; they were always the last to arrive for the meeting and the first to leave when it ended.

The room went silent when they noticed him, and Harry instantly regretted leaving without his friends. Sirius stared at him with a forlorn look; apparently, he was not happy with the present company and the dark-haired boy knew that his godfather and the Headmaster were not really on good terms. He stood by the entrance awkwardly as he felt heat creeping up to his cheeks and ears, not exactly knowing what he should do with all the eyes focused on him, especially when he all but barged in when they seem to be just wrapping up. The only sounds he could hear were the bewitched heavy knives chopping meat and vegetables on the far end of the room where a busy Mrs. Weasley was bustling about, oblivious to whatever was going on.

"Err… I – "

He really should have waited for his friends.

Crack.

Or maybe not. He was saved from further embarrassment by the arrival of the Weasley twins, Apparating in front of him, breaking the silence. Harry could only count in one hand the times he was thankful for the twins' intervention, and this was one of them. They took in the scene of the room before George let out a low whistle.

"What, surprised to see us, old folks?" he jokingly asked before confidently striding into the room, followed closely by Fred, who shot Harry a wink. "I'm starving. What's for dinner?" The room's occupants resumed with their activities as if nothing happened, and he was silently thanking the gods for Fred and George.

"Harry!"

He whirled around and saw Hermione and Ginny walking towards him, with Ron behind them. He must have looked quite out of place when they paused and looked at him intently. It took a few seconds when Hermione spoke out.

"Did something happen?"

Harry shook his head but Ron nudged the two girls, seemingly understanding his friend's dilemma. They looked past him, eyes surveying the kitchen until their eyes landed on particular members staying for dinner, their jaws dropping.

"Dumbledore is staying? For dinner?"

"Blimey, even Snape's here!"

"Keep your voices down!" Harry hissed with a grimace. With the way they were speaking – minus Hermione, who just gaped – they are going to attract unwanted attention. Fortunately, Mrs. Weasley saw them loitering around the doorway, and made her way towards them. It was the second time a Weasley saved Harry's dignity that night.

"Thank Merlin you're here!" she said, hastily wiping her hands on her apron. "You lot could help me if you want dinner before midnight. I'll need a lot of hands to feed many mouths tonight."

And she hurried back to the workstation, examining the contents of the cauldron she had been.

Harry and Ron swept off towards the ancient dresser and started to unload dinner plates good for twenty people while Hermione and Ginny collected cutlery from another dresser across theirs. The twins decided to help them by using their magic to distribute the plates on the table, levitating them albeit a bit wobbly. Finishing their tasks without destroying anything and earning Mrs. Weasley's ire, the twins left them to do whatever they can with magic and the trio plus Ginny sank on to the chairs located at the other end of the room, away from eyes and ears, though Harry caught Dumbledore's eyes trailing after them.

"What d'you reckon they're doing here?" Ron asked. "I mean, they're very welcome to stay for dinner but it's a first for us to eat with Snape in close proximity."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's Professor Snape, Ronald, and maybe they have another important thing to talk about after dinner."

"But this is Snape we're talking about, Mione!" Ginny pipped up, ignoring the way the bushy haired girl glared at her. "He never stays. I bet something's up."

"It's not only Snape. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Kingsley and the others, too." Harry muttered under his breath, just loud enough for them to hear, lightly touching his scar.

Before Hermione could reprimand them further about not using titles, they heard two telltale cracks of Apparation, and Fred and George materialized in thin air behind them, causing the two girls to let out a shriek.

"You prats!" Ginny scowled, slapping both their shoulders, her face as red as her hair. "Will you stop doing that!"

"Sorry, no can do, sis," Fred sniggered, dodging his little sister's blows. "As I always say, time is Galleons."

"Besides," George beamed, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "We thought that we might have something that might interest you."

Fred glanced around carefully before taking a seat beside Harry. "See, we got a bit curious why they – " at this, he jerked his head in the direction where Dumbledore, McGonagall and Moody were talking animatedly. " – are staying tonight. Imagine our surprise when Mum mentioned – "

"Let slip, more like," George corrected his twin. "She was being silent about it when we asked, might be important, mind. But that's beside the point. She boasted about having finally, finally convinced them to stay to taste her cooking, 'specially ol' Snape."

"Said something about him being too thin – "

" – starving himself to death – "

" – starting to look like Death itself – " Fred broke off, guffawing as he patted his twin on the back after George choked on his own spit. Harry, Ron, and Ginny broke out laughing while Hermione stared at them exasperatedly. It took more than a minute before all of them can recover, Fred wiping a stray tear from his eye. "So sorry for being carried away."

"No, you're not," Hermione huffed. "And please, don't insult him when he's just a few feet away! He might hear you!"

"Hermione," Fred sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. "Let loose a little, will you? So what if he hears? Will he dock points off Gryffindor and give us detentions?"

George smirked. "Right. Should we start keeping tiny hourglasses with rubies so we can keep count?"

Ron and Ginny erupted in another bout of laughter while Harry leaned back into his chair, his green eyes dancing with mirth. It was unusual for him to be this relaxed, Harry pondered to himself, watching Hermione surrendering in defeat to the twins' teasing. Ever since he stayed in his godfather's house, things had been tense and he felt that he was not himself, most of the time. He could really use the time he had here to pretend like he was just a normal teenager.

What could honestly go wrong?

"But in all seriousness, though," Ron started, recovering from his giggles. "What are they doing here?"

The twins shrugged. "Sorry to disappoint you, lads – "

" – and ladies," George interjected, winking at the two girls. "We didn't gather much since Mum was tightlipped about it. But what we said is true, excluding the part where we shamelessly insulted our dear old mate Snape, of course." They gave a dramatic bow with wide grins on their identical freckled faces.

The twins kept them entertained while they wait for dinner to be served, showing them their latest projects for their joke shop that Harry funded. It still amazed him that he had a part in making the twins realize their ambition, even if he had to force them to take the prize money he won in the Tournament last year.

Remembering the events that happened the previous year, Harry's mood soured. There was no use pretending to be in a good place when his mind flitted back to what happened: Cedric spread-eagled on the ground; Cedric staring at him with cold, dead eyes; Cedric asking him to bring back his body to his parents; Amos Diggory's wails echoing in his ears as the fake Moody escorted him away. He shook his head slightly as he pushed back those dreadful memories from his mind, trying to concentrate on more pleasant things.

"Dinner!" Mrs. Weasley's voice called from the other end of the room.

She was holding her wand high in front of her, balancing the large cauldron of stew, at least four pans of roasted chicken, three dishes of shepherd's pie, two wooden breadboards, and four self-refilling jugs of butterbeer and wine. Harry's mouth watered at the sight; it was like as if he was back at Hogwarts, attending the Welcoming Feast. There was excited chatter as everyone took their seats, scraping their chairs as they settled down for food.

Harry sat down on the only available seat left – between Ron and Fred. He could not even talk to Sirius, who was sitting on the other end of the table with Remus. Sighing, he got his fair share of the food while Ron seized the nearest plate of the roasted chicken and shepherd's pie, and began piling them up in his plate.

"This is so good," Ron groaned before he began filling his mouth that Harry was surprised it could still chew. Hermione watched the redhead with a revolted look across them.

"Show some manners, Ron," she hissed, throwing a cursory glance at the table. "You eat like a… like a…"

"Like a pig," Harry supplied helpfully, "You eat like a pig, mate."

Ron ignored the both of them and Harry shrugged helplessly, shooting Hermione a wry smile, to which she responded with a roll of her eyes. Kingsley, Bill, and Hestia Jones were talking intensely about the people or creatures they have tried to recruit on helping the cause, while the others were just exchanging polite conversations. Tonks led the usual mealtime entertainment by transforming her nose between mouthfuls, catering to the requests of Ginny and Hermione.

Dinner was uneventful, except for the part where Mrs. Weasley served dessert, Harry's favorite treacle tart. He helped himself to a large plateful, comparing it to the one he usually ate at Hogwarts and decided that the one Mrs. Weasley made was the best, as always. His eyes scanned the table, from Remus and Sirius talking about wines, to Mad-Eye eyeing the sweet dessert in all angles (possibly checking for poisons, that paranoid man, Harry thought) before finally landing on Snape, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere than to be with them.

Harry snorted. 'Course he prefers to be with his Death Eater friends. Git.

"Ah, Molly," he heard Dumbledore said to Mrs. Weasley, blue eyes twinkling. "Excellent dinner, as always."

The plump woman beamed, her cheeks turning bright red. "Oh, hush!" she chuckled. "You rarely eat here. You too, Minerva. And I'm not forgetting you too, Severus. You poor man, you haven't even eaten a half of your food! Eat up!"

"I have no need for your nagging, Molly," Snape grumbled, but he picked up his fork and ate his slice of shepherd's pie, hiding his face in his curtain of hair.

Harry choked back his laughter and grabbed his goblet of butterbeer, burying his face in it. Who would have thought that Snape, of all people, let Molly Weasley nag him until he finishes his food? Ron shot him a questioning look, to which he responded with a shake of his head and a whispered, "I'll tell you later."

Two servings of treacle tart later and Harry leaned into his chair contently as he lay down his spoon in a lull of general conversation. He had gained weight ever since he stayed here, and with Mrs. Weasley's nagging, telling him, "You're looking a bit thin, you poor dear," he ate what she served him just to appease her. Ron yawned widely beside him, and gave him a lopsided grin. He scanned the table again, noticing that no one has left, proving Hermione's suspicions to be correct – that they have to talk about something important.

"Time for bed now, children," Mrs. Weasley said as she waved her wand, and all the dishes on table carefully floated towards the kitchen. None of the underage witches and wizards, including two of age mischievous redheads, moved. The plump woman pursed her lips at them, hands on her hips. "Off to bed. Now."

Harry glanced at Sirius, who gave him a single nod. Whatever they would be talking about, his godfather and Remus would let him know about it. However, as he made to stand up, the lights in the room flickered, and everyone looked around, bewildered.

"That's odd," Sirius frowned, his brows furrowing. "That never happened before."

"Say, Sirius," Mr. Weasley said curiously, studying the lights. "They don't run off – err… what's that Muggle word? Ah, eckeltricity!" He paused, then after a beat, he added, "Do they?"

"No, they don't," the dark-haired man answered distantly, "Even if the house is surrounded by Muggles, we don't use that here." He stared at the redhead man. "I can only think of magical interference as the possible reason, though as far as I can remember, this never really happened before."

The lights went out as soon as he finished. There was a shuffling of feet, chairs scraping the floor, a few muttered, "Lumos!", and Harry could finally see through the darkness. Not a moment later, the room began to shake, gently at first. The dark-haired boy's first thought that came to mind was, An earthquake! However, he noticed that he could not hear a single panicked scream nor shout from their Muggle neighbors, even if the walls separating them were thin.

Do they even know that it's just us experiencing this?

The floor shook harder now, and a surge almost threw most of them backwards. The lights wavered slightly as Tonks lost her balance and clung to the nearest thing she could grab on, which happened to be Kingsley's wand arm. Suddenly, the kitchen came alive – around them, drawers opened and banged shut repeatedly; silverware, plates and goblets fell from the counter. Panic squeezed at Harry's chest; a lot of the room's occupants were busy trying to steady their footing against the tremor.

An inhuman sound filled the house: metals screeching, rumbles and groans. The air grew thicker as energy crackled over their heads, and another surge – powerful than the first – knocked them all off their feet, and the lights went out, rendering them blind in the darkness. The cacophony was more unholy in the dark. The house was still writhing and though it was unsafe to be moving around, Harry crawled, following the wall. Something heavy crashed near his head, and he let out a shaky breath; it could have hit him if he were a moment too early. His mind just screamed, 'Hold on to something!', and he braced himself against the wall instead, waiting for the quake to stop.

Not too long, the tremors subsided. Everyone waited with bated breath, expecting an aftershock of some sort, although Harry mentally noted that everyone might be already aware that it wasn't an earthquake. A minute passed by, and nothing happened, to which they all released a relieved sigh. The dark-haired boy let his body relaxed slightly but he still kept his guard up; he sensed that it was not yet over.

He was right; it wasn't over when a bright light appeared out of nowhere, on the far end of the kitchen, on its dust-covered, web-filled ceiling. The glare was blinding that the dark-haired boy dared not to look at it; it was as if someone cast a strong Patronus Charm, and now he understood why Dementors feared it. Harry then realized that it was some kind of portal when it spewed something out and it landed on the floor with a loud thud. The bright light vanished in a puff of smoke, and the lights around the kitchen went back to life.

A groan of pain echoed underneath the place where the portal had been. Realization dawned on every faces that were present in the room – the portal did not spew out something, it was someone. Kingsley moved quickly but quietly, all the while signaling the other aurors in the room to do the same.

"Fullmetal, can you hear me?"

"I'm not deaf! I can hear you just fine, you idiot."

"Brother, don't start."

"Colonel, are you all right?"

The aurors froze, confusion showing on their faces. Aside from finding out that there are multiple intruders in the headquarters, something about their language was odd – it sounded unearthly, like the forgotten ancient languages. Kingsley jerked his head, and once again, the aurors moved stealthily sans Tonks, who tripped on the leg of the table thus alerting the intruders of their presence.

Four people – two teenagers which could be around Harry's age or maybe younger, a blonde woman clad in some kind of uniform, and a dark-haired man wearing the same attire – stood up with their hands on the air.

The dark-haired man attempted to take a step forward but froze when Mad-Eye pointed his wand at him menacingly. "Take a single step and I can't guarantee you can keep that pretty face."

The man smiled wryly. "I think you misunderstand, but we don't even – "

A silver light almost grazed his cheek, his eyes narrowing at the wand at the former auror's hand. "Speak English!" Mad-Eye growled, his magical eye shifting to the blonde woman behind the man.

"I think," the man said calmly, moving in front of the woman, blocking her from the magical eye's sight. "that you're misunderstanding the situation; we don't bring you harm. We were brought here."

"By who?" This time, Kingsley moved in his line of sight, looking every bit refined and intimidating at the same time. "Who brought you here?"

"By Truth."

"Truth?" Mad-Eye barked a disbelieving laugh. "Truth, my ass. I'm asking a who, not a what. Don't take me for an idiot, boy. I'll repeat the question in case you didn't understand: who brought you here?"

The man blinked, a look of annoyance flashed in his charcoal eyes. "I told you, Truth sent us here. You may know it as God if you're a religious one."

"It's true!" The boy with the long hair yelled. "He's telling the truth! Truth, that wretched creature, sent us here without even so much of a – "

"ENOUGH!" The former auror bellowed, scowling. "Enough of this talk of lunacy! GET THEM!"

The room soon fell into chaos as soon as the first spell was cast. Harry could barely see in the scuffle but he swore the intruders were not fighting back nor firing any spells; it was more of a one-sided fight. The man was almost hit by a stray Stunning Spell if it weren't for the woman who pushed him out of harm's way. The two teenagers, with a pair of brilliant gold eyes, dodged the spells thrown their way but were immediately caught by Kingsley and Tonks, each holding a wand to the boys' faces. They reluctantly put their hands over their heads.

The dark-haired man came out from his hiding spot, his hands poised as if he was about to snap his fingers but he was distracted when Mad-Eye subdued the woman, pushing her to the wall with his wand on her neck, her broken hairclip hitting the floor as her hair came undone. A Water-Making Spell by Hestia Jones rendered the man soaking wet, and that made his clothing heavier than usual, making him unable to move with ease. He glared not at his captor but at Mad-Eye, not minding even the slightest when Hestia pointed her wand at him.

"Get your filthy hands off her!" the man snarled, looking thunderous. "I swear, if a single hair is out of her head, I'll –"

"You'll do what, exactly?" the former auror challenged, his normal eye almost bulging out of his socket. "See, one wrong move can send you and your friends here sleeping until we decide what to do with you."

The man looked ready to push his luck but one glare from the woman, he acquiesced to her silent request while he fumed, looking quite pitiful in the state he was in – drenched as if he stayed outside on a rainy day.

"Wait, you're going to kill us?" the younger boy asked, furrowing his brows.

"No, nothing like that. We aren't that tasteless," Tonks replied, shaking her head. "At least, not like the Death Eaters."

"Death Eaters? Tacky name, that." The older boy made a face, not bothered by the fact that they might be killed. When the Metamorphmagus stared at him in shock, he shrugged nonchalantly. "What? I've never heard of a more ridiculous name than that. At least, Homunculus is much better, gives me the proper creeps."

"You've never heard of Death Eaters?" she asked in disbelief as she and Kingsley exchanged looks.

"Nope, not a single peep in my life." He studied the wand aimed at his face. "Say, this piece of wood can kill us? It has that much of a power?"

Tonks ignored him. "Mad-Eye!" she hissed, her hair turning to a dull grey color from its usual bubbly pink. "How in Merlin's soggy pants did these Muggles get past the wards? Your wards?"

The former auror threw a glance over his shoulder. "With these three idiots here, maybe not. Impossible, even. Unless they dabble in the dark arts, which I doubt. However," he paused, peering at the woman before him. "I can see faint magic around her. But even a standard witch can't do much to the wards, much less bring in three people without writhing in pain." At this, the woman flinched. "Who exactly are you?"

"Now, now, Alastor," a wizened voice said from the other end of the room, and Dumbledore approached them in a flurry of his silver robes. "Let's not resort to violence; it's not how we welcome our guests."

Mad-Eye withdrew his wand ever-so-slightly, giving the bearded wizard a glance with his normal eye while his magical one remained on the woman. "You're quite calm for someone who just witnessed four trespassers who broke past the wards you and I created, Albus."

"There's no need to be hostile when they said that they meant no harm," he replied smoothly, blue eyes twinkling. "Now, tell them to stand down. I believe our guests deserve a proper welcome."

The former auror grudgingly retracted his wand and walked away, muttering under his breath before he barked the orders for the three aurors to lower their wands. The woman visibly slumped against the wall in relief before her eyes met Dumbledore's, who offered her a smile and a wink. "I do apologize for the way Alastor acted. He may be quite irrational earlier but he is a good man. Ah, how rude of me." He held out his hand. "Albus Dumbledore. And you, my dear?"

The woman stared at his hand warily before accepting it, giving it a firm shake. "Riza Hawkeye, sir."

"Well, Miss Hawkeye," he started but was cut off by a shout of "Lieutenant!" from the dark-haired man, who made a beeline for her after Hestia casted the drying charm on him. His arms shot out to hold her but hesitated, aware of the many eyes casted in their way; instead, he opted to studying her face and her neck for injuries as his arms fell limply to his side.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, looking thoroughly amused. The man turned his attention to the bearded wizard and offered his hand, which the wizard shook with no hesitation. "I'm Colonel Roy Mustang. Thank you for looking after my lieutenant, Mister -?"

The bearded wizard's eyebrows almost shot upwards in surprise. If Riza did not mention her rank to him due to her own reasons, he would not hold it against her. "Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore. A pleasure to meet you, Colonel Mustang. I take it that both of you are part of the English military?" he asked as he eyed both of their uniforms. "I'm really not familiar with the Muggle military myself, but it's a first for me to see a blue uniform."

Roy cocked an eyebrow. "English military? Muggle? I'm sorry but I'm honestly lost."

The two teenagers approached them after their inspection from the aurors. The youngest one greeted Dumbledore with a polite smile before checking on the quiet Lieutenant while the other one stared at the bearded wizard. Dumbledore found himself staring back at the boy; in fact, he was fascinated with his golden eyes, a rare color for a human to have. Somehow, it reminded him of an old friend from before, with the exact same shade of eyes.

The boy looked away, crossed his arms, and said, "We're from Amestris. Have you heard of it?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened a fraction in surprise. "Pardon?"

"Amestris," the boy repeated, looking bored now. "A-mes-tris. It's a small military country. Does it ring any bells?"

The bearded wizard opened his mouth but no sound came out. He looked at the boy as if he had grown another head. The room went silent; all eyes were on them now. Roy whispered something to the boy in their language, which the latter blatantly ignored. He was looking expectantly at Dumbledore, waiting for an answer which the bearded wizard cannot give.

"I'm sorry but... err – we haven't heard of it."

The boy turned and saw a timid, bushy-haired girl who spoke up. His once-sharp eyes softened a bit and he sighed. "Figures. I just thought that once we arrive here someone would know about us."

"About you?" Hermione queried, her caramel eyes shining with curiosity. "Are you… not from this world?"

Heads snapped towards her and the girl took a step back with a squeak of surprise, a tinge of pink dusting her cheeks at the sudden attention. The boy burst into full laughter, clutching his middle, leaving everyone staring at him, stunned – except for the three people he came with; it's like they knew he would have the exact reaction. As he finished wiping the last of his tears, he grinned at Hermione.

"Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?" he asked her, laughter still in his voice. "And yes, we are from another world. What made you ask an unthinkable question?"

Hermione blinked owlishly at the boy. "It's because of your eyes and," she glanced over at the other boy beside Riza, "his eyes. They are a brilliant shade of gold that I've ever seen. Some have colors that are close but not like yours. They're actually beautiful."

The boy urged her to continue, a smirk playing on his lips at the compliment. The girl flushed. "A-and the u-uniforms," she stammered, gesturing at the uniforms of Roy and Riza. "The color is common but it looks old, out of the place, and something that is worn at formal events. It looks heavy too. Militaries from other countries in this world have their soldiers wear something not flashy and easy to move in.

"Your language," she continued. "They sound something like out of this world; unlike the foreign languages I've heard, they're a bit hard to describe. I'll say that it's very different."

"Those are very good points," he agreed, smiling at her. He glanced back at Roy as if asking for permission, but the Colonel just shrugged in a 'do whatever you want' manner. "You're smart; I like that. I think I've been too rude long enough – my name's Edward Elric. And that," he pointed at the boy behind him, "is my little brother, Al."

The boy, Al, waved. "Hello."

The girl beamed. "I'm Hermione. It's nice to – "

"Enough with the pleasantries," Mad-Eye growled from his corner where he sulked when Dumbledore dismissed him. His magical eye seemed to be glued on the boy's left leg. "We aren't in a tea party having nice conversations with each other. I sense that you're hiding something, boy, and I like to find out what it is."

"Alastor." Dumbledore warned him.

"He might look like a Muggle but he's no Muggle, Albus!" the former auror argued, his lips curling in anger. "Something's wrong with him – with them. I can feel it! That woman," he pointed a gnarled finger at Riza, who glared, "she's a witch, no doubt. Hell, the three of them might not be humans at all!"

"Calm down, please, Alastor!"

"How can I calm down – "

Ed saw movement on the corner of his eye and turned just in time to see Roy snapping his finger and fire burst out, circling around where Mad-Eye stood. The fire was controlled yet the dark-haired man's face was cold, eyes burning with restrained anger. The former auror paled and wands were drawn and pointed towards Roy's direction, including Dumbledore's. Ed was reminded that even if the bearded wizard welcomed them out of politeness, the suspicion was still there and that they crossed the line when fire erupted on the tips of Roy's fingers.

The small circle of fire disappeared in an instant when the dark-haired man made a relaxed motion with his wrist, seemingly satisfied with what he did, though he still looked pissed.

"Is that… elemental magic?"

"Merlin, that's such a strong wandless magic!"

Such whispers passed down the gathered crowd, throwing curious glances in their direction. "What a fucking showoff!" Ed gritted his teeth. If they were not being obvious enough, they looked at him as if they were expecting that he'd also do a trick or two. These merry band of wooden stick-wielding people was starting to get to his nerves.

He would really like to punch a lot of sense into Mustang's thick skull but before he could attempt to do so, realization finally dawned on him on what those people called the dark-haired man's alchemy.

They called it like it was some fucking godsend miracle.

While Ed was immersed in his own thoughts, Roy strode towards Mad-Eye and stood just within arm's length. He jutted out his chin with a menacing glare. The dark-haired man was a few meters shorter than the former auror but he was the one to appear threatening; it would have been a comical sight if it weren't for the heavy tension in the room.

"You dare insult my subordinates?" he said thunderously to Mad-Eye. "A 'witch'? 'Not humans'? Some sort of abnormality? Well, if you want to know badly," he spat, "I can assure you that we are definitely humans, just nothing like your kind."

"B-But you're not a wizard!" the former auror exclaimed, ignoring what the man just said as if he wasn't frightened to death just mere seconds ago. "How the hell can you do magic? My eye does not lie!"

Roy froze. "What bloody nonsense are you babbling on about?"

"He meant you can do magic, Colonel Mustang," Dumbledore said, stepping between the two of them before Roy's hands caught the lapels of Mad-Eye's coat. "Alastor's magical eye can see auras and traces of leftover magic, among other things. What you did earlier is a dangerous, but impressive form of magic. You were able to control the fire, even without the use of a wand."

The dark-haired man stared between Dumbledore and Mad-Eye blankly for a moment, but when the thought finally sank in, he ran a hand through his hair, then pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed wearily. He feared an incoming headache. "Is that what they call it here?" he muttered under his breath.

Unfortunately, it did not escape the bearded wizard's ears. "I beg your pardon?"

Roy grimaced inwardly – curse that old man's sharp hearing! His eyes flicked to Dumbledore's face and their eyes met. He stared past the man before him and saw Ed staring at him with a look of determination. The boy gave a slight nod, and that was all the encouragement he needed. He gave in – he decided he would tell them everything. "Your friend's right; I'm no 'wizard'. You call it 'magic' but to us, we call it 'alchemy'."

He took a deep breath.

"We call ourselves alchemists."

As always, I would love to know your thoughts. Your thoughts give me the encouragement to write!

My door is always open for suggestions and constructive criticisms! See you in the next update!