Author's notes: Long weekend, start of school, insert more excuses here. Happy Star Wars day, everybody. Enjoy this new chapter.


"You know my brother?!" Al almost screamed.

"Shh!" the woman urged, looking over her shoulder. "They're gonna be here soon, we need to move to a safer location."

"No," Al refused. "Not until you tell me how you know my brother."

The woman looked over her shoulder, then at Al, before sighing. "Edward dropped in out of nowhere one day, claiming to be from another world and he's been trying to get home ever since." Al stayed silent and still, processing what she said. It made absolutely no sense, and yet it fit the puzzle at the same time. She seemed to take his thought process as more skepticism, as she said, "Edward. Small blond kid, said he was a State Alchemist where he's from, gets really angry when you call him short."

That sounds like Brother... "Okay, where do we go?"

The woman looked Al up and down, disapprovingly. "Guess we have no choice," she mumbled, then motioned for Al to follow her to the opposite end of the alley. She peeked out, scanning the open area closely. Then, she gave the 'all-clear' signal, and the two of them sprinted down the street, with nobody in sight. It would have made a hilariously weird sight.

"Umm, what's your name, miss?" Al asked as they hid in another alley while she waited for the area to be completely clear of people before they made their move again.

"Tonks. Let's talk once we're safe, okay?" she asked. Al nodded, intimidated by her confidence.

She motioned again, and they ran. Over her shoulder, Al could see her making gestures with her hands, like she was having trouble remembering directions. More than once she stopped in her tracks, looked behind Al, then shook her head and continued in the original direction.

"Why are you helping me, Miss Tonks?" Al questioned.

"Can this wait?" she asked, trying to maintain a steady breathing.

"Please, Miss Tonks. Why would you go against the people you're working for and help a complete stranger like me?"

"Because some of us like to do what's right, not what our bosses think is right," Tonks said between breaths.

Al thought of the many times his brother had gone against authority to help those in need. He could see why, at the very least, Ed trusted her. Birds of a feather.

"It's here," Tonks announced, stopping at a brick wall, before doubling over. She noted that Al didn't seem to be breathing hard at all. "You're not the least bit tired after all that running?"

"Not really."

"Wow, you're a beast," she complimented.

"Thanks..." Al said dejectedly. It wasn't like he wanted this. In fact, he'd give anything to feel exhausted or sleepy or even pain again. "Where's this safe place?" he asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Right here." Tonks pulled our her stick, and Al flinched. "Don't worry, it's not for you." She muttered something that Al couldn't quite catch, and waved it at the wall. One by one the bricks came alive, sliding outwards at first, before the entire mass of extended bricks parted down the middle, revealing a set of stairs descending downwards.

"Whoa..." Al breathed, metaphorically.

"Come on, then, before they find us," Tonks suggested, gesturing for Al to go in first.

He complied. As he squeezed himself down the stairs, flames flared into life, burning on wooden torches fused into the wall. The sound of grinding bricks echoed throughout the hallway as Tonks closed the secret entrance behind them, cutting off the natural light that once bled into the tunnel.

At the bottom of the stairs was a well-lit and well furbished room, complete with a bed, a small square table with accompanying wooden chairs, a small kitchen with a sink and even what looked like a miniature refrigerator. "What is this place?" Al asked.

"Gimme a sec," Tonks squeezed past Al's large frame, went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle with a pumpkin as a cap and downed the entire contents in one gulp. She 'ahh'ed in relief, before responding, "This was a safehouse, built by the Ministry for use by its Aurors. Pumpkin juice?" she offered, retrieving another bottle from the fridge.

"No thanks," Al declined. She shrugged and starting drinking from that bottle too. "Wait, these Aurors are those guys in the robes like you, right?" She nodded, while drinking. Al started to panic. "Then wouldn't they know where this place was? They'll find us eventually, won't they?"

"Relax, this place has been considered defunct by the Ministry for years. Something about a Doxy infestation."

That explanation didn't do anything to calm Al down. He looked around rapidly. "I-Infestation? Where?"

"We've cleared it out for our personal uses," Tonks assured, throwing away the two bottles of pumpkin juice she just drank. "So you'll be safe here, I promise." She watched in amusement as Al moved around the room, inspecting the facilities; pushing down on the bed and hearing the old springs creak, turning the sink on and off, checking the inside of the fridge. "You know, you're safe now, so you don't have to wear that thing around anymore."

Al shot up, like a bolt of lightning just struck him. "Uh, no! It's alright, I'm fine! It's part of my alchemy training," he hastily explained.

"Okay..." Tonks eyed him suspiciously. "You know, you sound a lot younger than you look. What's your name?"

"Alphonse." Did Ed not tell them about him?

"That's a nice name," she complimented, pulling up a chair for herself. "Well, Alphonse, you must have a lot of questions, so shoot."

A million questions ached for release in Al's mind. He started with his top priority. "Where's my brother now?"

"He's at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Al couldn't help but giggle when he processed that answer.

"What's so funny?"

So many things. "Well, Brother has never been one for school, and also magic doesn't really exist."

Now it was Tonks' turn to giggle. "That's what Ed said the first time. Magic may not exist where you're from, but here it's very real." To prove her point, she focused, and morphed her nose into a duck's beak. Al yelped in surprise. Carefully, he reached out with a finger to touch it. "Hey!" Tonks slapped his hand away.

"Sorry!" Al apologized quickly. "It's just, I've never seen anyone do that before... Magic, huh..."

"You seem to be taking this better than Ed did," she remarked.

"I... kinda sorta wished magic was real after reading a lot of stories," Al sheepishly admitted. "I have a lot of free time. Please don't tell Brother."

She threw her head back in laughter. "No worries."

"So what did you do to convince Brother to attend? He hates going to school."

"He's not studying there. He's teaching."

Al tried to stifle his laughter. He had a hilarious mental image of a fire-breathing Edward terrorizing students like a monster would to a city. Once he calmed down, with Tonks patiently waiting, he asked, "Can I go there now? I want to meet my brother."

An apprehensive look came onto Tonks' face. "That might be a problem."

"Why?" The little joy and relief Al had felt was suddenly starting to fade. Quickly.

"Well, after your little stunt of wrecking the Ministry's headquarters trying to escape, I expect you to be pretty high on their wanted list right now, and it just so happens that there is a Ministry of Magic official at the school right now as a teacher."

"You mean after all that, with Brother so close right now, and I can't see him?" Al asked, dejected. He sat down on the floor, slumping against the wall.

"I'm sorry, Al," Tonks got up, but didn't know how to comfort a seven-foot tall armored giant moping in the corner, "we're going to find a way to get you to Ed without landing the both of you in Azkaban, alright?" Al didn't respond. "In the meantime, you just get some rest. You must be tired after everything that's happened."

Al's continued silence only made Tonks feel guilty and awkward. She wasn't good at this kind of stuff. She placed a hand on Al's shoulder plate. "I'll be back soon, Al. I promise." With that, she left, up the stairs and out into the world, leaving Al to his own devices.

But Al wasn't tired. He couldn't be. He couldn't even go to sleep no matter how hard he tried. Every moment of his cursed life he spent awake, forever thinking, trapped in this steel cage of a body. He sensed the vibrations of Tonks' pat on the shoulder, but that was all he felt. He couldn't feel the comfort, the warmth, the love behind anything.

He curled up even tighter. The flickering of the shadows only seemed to mock him. You're one of us, the silence said. A mere imitation of what once was. Never to experience the joy of life.

They were right. He was like them. Just a shadow of his former self. Incapable of human emotions. Alone in the universe.

Tonks was right. He was a beast.

Al never craved for his brother's presence more.


Beads of sweat dripped of Ed's brow. It has been a while since he felt like this. If Teacher knew this was what he was experiencing, she would yell his ears off, rip him a new one and eat him alive. Not necessarily in that order. That fear of his trainer, even across worlds, motivated him.

After all, it had been ages since Ed's got a decent workout. Usually that wouldn't have been a problem, what with the Homunculus attacks, his covert investigations and Scar, among other activities, but being a professor in a magical castle that was protected from outside threats didn't offer similar opportunities. A paranoia of his skills getting rusty, along with the feelings of the aforementioned teacher, had Ed doing the most difficult and strenuous of exercises Izumi had forced onto them.

That was only one of the reasons. He was planning on sitting in on Transfiguration today, and had to get himself psyched up for it. Not that he was looking forward to it, quite the contrary. If he had to sit through an entire class talking about magic like it was fact, he had to physically and mentally prepare himself beforehand. Train the body, train the mind. He needed a ton of training for what was coming.

Ed went for a heavy breakfast after freshening up. He wasn't sure if it was bad to work out before or after eating heavily, but he'd only be seventy-percent as affect as other people, due to his missing limbs. That's how anatomy works, right?

He headed for the classroom Transfiguration was set to take place in, even before breakfast ended. Ed had every intention of snooping around, find out how other teachers were conducting their lessons, maybe stumble on the fact that this magic business is one massive, elaborate prank on him. Unfortunately, McGonagall was already in the room, going over sheets of paper, quill in hand, reading glasses resting near the tip of her nose.

"You're early, Professor Elric," Minerva noted, barely looking up from her desk.

"Yeah, well, I've got nothing better to do," he shrugged. "The quicker I get this 'magic' stuff the quicker I can get home." Ed tried to look as innocent as possible.

"Hmm. Well, despite your noble intentions for learning, Professor, I must ask you to come back on Tuesday," she continued, not missing a beat from what she was doing.

"Why?" Ed asked indignantly.

"Because," she looked up, taking off her reading glasses, "my class today is a sixth-year class, and it is too advanced for anyone without prior knowledge and education in the subject. And, like I said before, I will not tolerate interruptions in my class, and that includes professors asking questions every thirty seconds on how Transfiguration is possible."

"Wha...?" Ed started, baffled and partially insulted. It was bad enough that her impression of him was a kid going around asking 'how' to everything, but to imply that it was too advanced for him? Please. "Then give me a crash course. I'm a quick learner. And I won't question the obvious impossibilities of magic. For now."

She scoffed. "As much as I would like to catch you up on five years of theories, practice and hard work in the next," she checked the clock, "fifteen minutes, I am afraid that I am far too busy to do so."

Ed groaned loudly in protest, drawing the ire of the other professor. The only way he would allow this to end is if McGonagall caved in, or he was dragged kicking and screaming from the class. "I could help," a girl's voice called from behind him. A familiar student stood in the doorway as Ed turned, slowly entering the room. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have listened in," she apologized.

"You're..." Ed mumbled, trying to place a name to the face. She was in his class, but she wasn't as active as some of the other students, so he didn't put effort into remembering her name.

"Miss Bell," McGonagall acknowledged. "If you want to teach Professor Edward years worth of classes in a day, I will not stop you." She returned to her work.

Katie Bell... that's right... Ed remembered the name from the class register. "Thanks. Why are you doing this?" he asked her as they sat down in the back of the class.

Katie Bell looked dazed, experiencing Edward Elric's famous bluntness in full force. McGonagall rolled her eyes, shaking her head ever so slightly. "Uh, it's my pleasure to help a professor in need?" Katie answered, hesitantly. Ed just glared. "Okay, I'm was just curious on why or how you, a professor, doesn't know the basics of Transfiguration," she answered truthfully.

"That's all?" Ed skeptically questioned. No way a student would risk their grades just to learn something about one of their teachers.

"Well..." she glanced at McGonagall and lowered her voice, "I was hoping you could teach me how to shoot like you do."

It took a second for Ed to figure out what she was talking about. "What, that's it?" he reveled at the insignificance of her request. "You entering a chalk-flicking contest or something?"

"No, nothing like that. I'm a Chaser for Gryffindor's Quidditch team and I could really use some tips on Quaffle throwing."

That made completely no sense to Edward whatsoever. "Uh-huh. Okay, sure. Whatever. Can we start now?"

Katie peered at the clock. "Right, we should." She retrieved her notebook and quill and started writing. "Well, in our first year, we learned the Transfiguration alphabet and the equation to perform the spells-"

"Wait, you guys do actual math here?" Ed asked, surprised. "I thought it was all just wand waving and spell slinging."

"You've got a funny perspective on magic, Professor," she giggled.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm not from around here," Ed dismissed, answering the question before it was even posed. "So, what do the variables stand for?"

"So to transfigure something successfully, you need a very precise amount of wand power combined with the caster's concentration divided by the weight and the viciousness of the intended transmutation before being multiplied by the inverse of the number of different entities in the final product," Katie recited. If they had looked up then, they would have seen McGonagall smiling ever so slightly.

Ed put his head in his hands. "And here I was beginning to think there was some logic in all this madness. Can I have that?" he added, pointing to the page.

"Yeah, of course." With a swift wave of her wand, the page detached itself neatly from the book and floated over to Edward.

He snatched it out of the air and stuffed it into his pocket. "Wand waving," he grumbled, unimpressed. "What else is there?"

Before Katie could answer, the doors swung open and a flood of students washed in. McGonagall stood up from her desk, preparing for the lesson proper. "We practiced more and more difficult spells over the years, like turning beetles to buttons or teapots to turtles," Katie said out of the corner of her mouth, waving to her friends.

"Wait, you practice turning inanimate objects into animals?" Ed stated, raising his voice.

McGonagall cleared her throat, and Ed noticed the students in the class staring at him. "Professor Elric. Class is about to start, if you don't mind." Students giggled.

Ed laid back, crossing his arms. "Whatever," he mumbled. Katie gave him a small apologetic look, before turning to focus on McGonagall's lesson. Something about shooting birds from their wands.

But Ed couldn't pay attention to her, with this new revelation. Creating life from objects? That was purely impossible, no matter how you looked at it. There wouldn't be enough raw materials in a teapot to transmute or transfigure it into a turtle, nor a beetle into a button, even if you didn't take the whole 'life' into account.

"Are there any rules or restrictions to your transfiguration?" Ed asked, as hushed as possible.

"Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration," she responded, equally hushed. "There are five principal exceptions: no creating food out of thin air, no creating life or bringing back the dead-"

"Professor Elric!" McGonagall sternly called. Ed and Katie shot straight up. "If you are going to continue to disturb my students, I will have to ask you to leave." Ed sank back into his chair, shying away from the eyes in the room.

But this was good. No resurrection or making a fully fledged human out of a paper clip means there was a small anchor Ed could have in this world. He took out the piece of paper that Katie gave him. If there were laws governing the use of magic, that meant that the Transfiguration equation had to make some logical sense as well.

He left the 'wand power' variable alone. Whatever that was, it was for a later time. Maybe involving the dissection of one.

Ed figured out concentration pretty easily. It was like alchemy, focusing on the elements and materials and the shape the alchemist wanted it to take. Not focusing during the transmutation process could result in disaster, and the same went for transfiguration. He saw why this was dangerous to attempt, and that went even more for attention-lacking students.

Weight probably meant size. The bigger it was, the harder the transfiguration. That was easy.

Viciousness was a little more complex. Ed immediately thought that the more feral the creature or object, the more difficult it was to transmute, automatically leading him to dismiss it as another magical shenanigan. But, like Katie said, life couldn't be created out of nothing, so he tried to change his thinking.

Animals all have a natural response to stimuli, Ed thought. Some are more docile, accepting of foreign substances or people. Some are more wary, cautious. Some are outright aggressive. And unlike the soul, animal or human, that gives someone or something personality, the decision to choose, their individuality, these responses are inbuilt to each species, like humans' natural fight-or-flight response. Transfiguration has to operate on this fact.

With that, Ed figured that the viciousness variable is not creating a soul for the object based on its natural personality, but in fact recreating the chemical reactions a newly born creature would have. No freedom to make choices, no capacity to form memories, a soulless husk of the real thing. No resulting life or soul. He was satisfied with that theory.

Number of different entities. Limbs, perhaps? Organs? The different parts that made up the object? That would sort of make sense, with the students transfiguring larger and larger creatures and objects as they moved up each year. It would also explain why the transfigurations seemed limited to normal creatures that Ed was familiar with. He barely could imagine creating something like a fire-breathing dog or dragon. He couldn't even think of how the element of fire would fit under-

Wait. Elements. If transfiguration and alchemy are more similar compared to the other forms of magic... Ed looked around the room. Students were no longer just quietly listening. They all had their wands out, pointed to the sky and muttering the same word over and over again, with looks of frustration as nothing was happening. McGonagall had stopped teaching theories, and was going around the room, inspecting and correcting each student in their technique. "Hey, Katie, the hell is going on?" he whispered.

She looked away from the ceiling, and lowered her wand. "We're trying to perform the Bird-Conjuring charm right now. Avis!" she said again, and scrunched her face in frustration. Nothing.

Okay, calm down. Not real birds. Just imitations. "No luck?"

"Nope. I don't know what I'm doing wrong," she complained. Looking around at the others, it seemed like no one else did either.

Perfect. "Right, you know that formula you learned in your first year?"

"Avis! Damn it! Yeah, of course."

"Well, why don't you try..." Ed trailed off, trying to figure out how to explain it. "Gimme your quill." He snatched the writing feather from Katie's desk, scribbled down his own substitutions for the viciousness and weight, using a random, small bird as the base. The number of entities that he wrote down, however, was specific, using the number of different chemical elements in the bird that he had in mind. Wand power and concentration he left to Katie. She was the caster after all. "Here, try this."

Katie scrunched her face, staring at the formula Ed passed to her. "What's this?"

"Just try it."

"You know that if its performed improperly it can have-" Katie started to protest.

"Devastating effects, I know. Alchemy is the same. Now do it," Ed goaded. Many students were looking their direction again, and McGonagall stared on with a frown.

Katie scanned her spectators, and sighed. "Avis," she half-mumbled. There was a slight pop and wheezing noise as a lone, blue feather shot out of Katie's wand. Surprise was the prime expression in the room. No one had even come close.

Ed pumped his fist victoriously. He was on the right track. Magic and science are more similar than people gave credit for. The rest of the students redoubled their efforts to pull off at least a feather. "I am a genius," Ed smirked, leaning back, hands behind his head.

"Avis," Katie recited. Pop, wheeze, feathers. "Avis!" Pop, wheeze, more feathers. "What am I doing wrong?" she muttered. "Professor?" Katie asked, looking to Ed.

He shrugged. "Don't look at me. I gave you more than enough help already. You need to help yourself now." He tapped the desk, standing up. "I'm done here. Thanks, old lady," he waved McGonagall goodbye, kicking open the door out of the class.

Ed hasn't felt this at peace for a long time. Now that he's got a grip on this magic business, he felt the weight of the burden of ignorance lifted slightly from his shoulders.

He passed the knight painting again. "I'm on to your shit, bucket head!"


"P-Please..." the man known as Deacon begged. "I-I'm sorry..."

"Your pathetic whimpering does not change the face that you let two alchemists escape!" Xander roared. The man flicked his wand, and Deacon become a screaming mess in the chair he was strapped to, writhing in futility. "And I have only one use for incompetent fools like yourself."

"N-no, please... anything but that..." Deacon begged between gasps and twitches.

"Silence!" Xander commanded, and flicked his wand again.

Deacon's screams echoed throughout the house. Then, it stopped. His eyes shot open, pupils a ghostly white, staring directly at Xander. His mouth opened, though it was not his voice that came out. "Report," said a cold, dark voice.

"The plan is going according to schedule, my Lord."

"Excellent," the voice hissed, although he sounded like he expected nothing less.

"Unfortunately, another of this world's alchemists have slipped through," Xander said, lowering his head.

"I have already been informed of that fact."

"As expected of my Lord. I assure you, those responsible for this mistake have already been severely punished."

A long menacing breath escaped possessed-Deacon's mouth. "You have disappointed me, Xander."

"My sincerest apologies," Xander said, bowing deeply.

"However, these... setbacks may yet have a purpose to serve." The voice paused, and Xander could hear Deacon struggling to breathe and failing. "I will overlook these transgressions. This time."

"I am not deserving, my Lord," Xander thanked.

"There will not be a second."

"Yes, of course, my Lord. No more mistakes."

"Continue with the preparations. And dispose of the vessel."

With that, the ghostly look over Deacon's eyes vanished, leaving the man to gasp for air, retching in the process. He looked up at Xander. "W-W-What was... I-I saw... Please..." he begged, a blubbering mess.

Xander merely pointed his wand at the man. "Avada Kedavra."