~Chapter Twelve: The Wizard and The Alchemist~

A/N: Here ya are! The last—and BY FAR the longest—chapter of "Entwined Sorcery"! I probably could…no, should have split it up into two chapters but I decided against it because a) I knew you all would kill me about another cliffhanger, and b) I like having an even amount of chappies. LOL I know, I'm dumb. Just think of it as the Grand Finale. :P But seriously this is a monster of a chapter, so keep your bookmarks handy XD Hope y'all like it, and if it doesn't wrap up just the way you want it to, fret not for I will be posting a leetle Epilogue either later this month or early April to completely sum it up! Also, if you get the chance, you should check out my DeviantArt, for it has been recently updated with Chapter 10 and 11 pics. ^_^ Enjoy, and thanks so much for all of your wonderful support, you dashing readers, you, and a very special thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story since the beginning! It truly means a lot to me :)

all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling

all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

Edward stood before the third-floor corridor, feeling nothing but pure determination toward the act he was about to commit. His brother needed him to do this, he knew it; at this point it was essential that he forget about his new friends and eradicate all of the guilt he bore for lying to them. The whole reason he came to Hogwarts in the first place was for this stone anyway. He had followed his gut, and it did not fail him; at last, he was going to get his hands on the Philosopher's stone. This, what he was about to do, was for Al's life. With one last long, deep breath held his wand steady and whispered the incantation that unlocked the door and stepped into the gloom gingerly, careful not to set off the three-headed beast…

Just a few measly minutes later Harry, Ron and Hermione caught up with the sneaky alchemist. They pulled the invisibility cloak off of them and stuffed it into Harry's robes before Hermione raised her wand to the doorknob. Before she could utter Alohomora, however, Harry stopped her.

"Try it first; it'll be open already if Ed's in there."

"…Right."

Sure enough, the doorknob was unlocked when Hermione turned it. She nervously looked back at Ron and Harry, who nodded for her to enter. Sure enough, Fluffy was fast asleep, and the first thing they saw upon entering the forbidden corridor was Edward Elric.

"What the—what are you doing here?" Ed demanded, pointing his wand at the trio. Harry and Ron already had their wands aimed at the traitor, however, so Ed dared not try anything just yet. They would have to give him a reason to fight first. If they think they can stop me from getting the Stone, they are sorely mistaken!

"We came to get protect the stone, of course," Harry growled, his glower unfaltering as Ed set his jaw angrily. "We knew you'd be here because of what you did to Neville."

"Dammit," Ed muttered under his breath. He should've put some sort of muting charm on the boy too.

"How could you do that to us?" Ron exclaimed.

"Shut up, you'll wake the damn dog up!" Ed hissed, gesturing towards the drooling creature. Harry looked over his shoulder at the source of the music they could hear in the air and saw an enchanted harp, playing all by itself in the far corner of the room.

"How did you bring that in here without getting caught?" Hermione whispered. Ed shook his head:

"I didn't; someone got here before I did and put the thing asleep."

"Snape," Harry said immediately. "He's already got past Fluffy."

Ed rolled his eyes at everyone's grave expressions: "I still don't think it's Snape."

"Nobody cares what you think, traitor!" Ron spat at him, his hand bearing his wand shaking with fury. "You lied to us! All three of us! We were supposed to be your friends!"

"I know," Edward replied, his voice a decibel softer than it was before. "I had to, though. I need the stone."

"Why, what for?" Harry asked disbelievingly. Ed huffed, angrily shaking his head.

"I can't tell you."

Ron didn't buy it, however and continued on with his chastising:

"All this time, we thought you were trying to help, when actually you were just taking advantage of our information!"

"That's not true," Harry pointed out gravely. "Ed's smart. He's been holding out on us if anything. He's probably had this entire thing figured out for months now…and by the looks of it he's got a good idea of what lies beyond that trapdoor, too, or else who wouldn't have been stupid enough to come at all..."

Harry shook his head, his emerald eyes glaring into Ed's face, bearing feeling of anger, fury and…sorrow?

"…I trusted you, Ed!" he said with a broken voice. "I put all of my trust in you, believed that you were trying to help us, that you were my friend. And then you go and pull this kind of trick on us?"

Ed blinked, and then shrugged in reply. At the moment he really couldn't come up with a better comeback then that.

"Don't you play stupid either," he spat back at them suddenly. "You're lying. None of you completely trusted me. You say one thing but know you mean another. You've all been suspicious of me the entire time—especially you, Harry! I saw that look you gave me that first night, when I was almost sorted into Slytherin. Now you're probably wishing I had been!"

"I bet the Sorting Hat is thinking the same exact thing, too!"

Ed let out a guttural growl; he was losing precious time in this argument; he lifted his wand even higher:

"Incarcerous—!"

"Protego!"

"DAMMIT," Ed cursed when his own curse was deflected by Hermione's shield, holding out her wand with one hand and restraining Ron the best she could with the other. Harry was grabbing hold of Ron's robes as well, gritting his teeth against the redhead's struggling. In the midst of them holding they're pissed-off friend back, however, Harry couldn't help but be impressed with Hermione yet again.

"Where'd you learn that shield spell from?" he inquired.

"I figured, seeing as we have no idea what we'll be facing tonight, that I'd better read up on some defensive spells. I found 'protego' in a book I had borrowed," she replied, then winced. "I saw Ed reading that same book in the library the other day, actually, now that I think about it…"

"Let me at him, let me punch the bastard's teeth out!"

Ed laughed out loud and opened his mouth to sarcastically respond to Ron's threats, but froze mid-sentence. He listened carefully, holding a finger up to the three angry people in front of him, hoping that they'll shut up for once. He slowly turned around and blanched at what he saw.

"Does it seem a bit quiet…?" he heard Harry whisper to Hermione. Ed did not look back at them as he spoke:

"The harp…it stopped playing for some reason."

There was a pause…and then a large drop of drool landed upon Ron's unsuspecting shoulder.

"Ew! Yuck!"

"R-Ron…"

All four of them looked up, and they're eyes widened as three sets of sickly yellow eyes stared back down at them. They screamed, diving in different directions away from the beast as it barked and growled, thrashing about in its chains. It broke the harp and dove at them just after they had scattered; Edward slid beneath the dog's huge belly and tossed the trapdoor open. He swung one leg over the edge and stopped for a moment. He could just leave them all to the dog, and then he wouldn't have to deal with them anymore. He could focus on getting the Stone for Al, with no one in the way…but then again, he had betrayed them enough, had he not? After all, at more than one point during his stay at Hogwarts, he truly did consider them trio to be his friends.

"Ron! Harry, Hermione, over here! Hurry!"

"Jump!" Hermione called over. "We'll follow!"

Ed nodded, jumping feet first into the gloom and landing with a funny, muffled sort of thump on top of something soft and slightly damp. Three more thumps immediately followed Ed's; Ron sat up next to Ed.

"What is this stuff?" were his first words.

"Dunno, some sort of plant thing," Harry said, poking at the substance curiously. Ed did the same, though he approached it more carefully that the scarred boy. Whatever the stuff was he doubted it was for cushioning.

"We must be miles under the school judging by how long of a drop that was," Hermione remarked.

"Yeah, lucky this plant thing's here, really—"

"Lucky!" shrieked Hermione. Ed's eyes widened too:

"Ron, look!"

"AUGH!" Ron yelped, and Harry also jerked in surprise. The plant that had just cushioned their falls suddenly began to twist snakelike tendrils around their arms and legs. Ed looked down and made to move unsuccessfully just as his legs became bound tightly in the long creepers. Shit! he soundlessly panicked. This must be Professor Sprout's trap! Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her; now she watched in horror as the three boys fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.

"Stop moving!" Hermione ordered them. "I know what this is—it's a Devil's Snare!"

"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck. Ed, on the other hand, heard the plant's name and rapidly wracked his brain for facts and figures pertaining to it.

"…I can't remember how to kill it!" Ed yelled at Hermione.

"Neither can I! Um, ok, give me a second…"

"I don't think we have a second, Hermione!"

"Hurry up, you two, I can't breathe!" Harry gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around his chest. Ed opened his mouth to snap back at him, but froze.

"…I remember now, hold still!" Ed told Harry and Ron. "Relax and it'll let you go!"

"Relax?" Ron yelled. "Have you gone mad?"

Ed ignored him as he released all of the tension from his entangled body, taking slow deep breaths…and then grinned as soon as he was released right after Hermione. Harry saw this success and desperately followed suite. He landed on the ground hard, then scrambled up and ran over to Hermione and Ed, gasping to regain the air he had lost when strangled by the demon plant.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked concernedly. Harry nodded, glancing at Ed in between gasps. The three of them looked back at Ron, who was still writhing and screaming in the plant's clutches.

"Help!"

"He's not relaxing, is he?" Hermione said faintly.

"Apparently not," Harry remarked. Ed stamped his foot frustratingly:

"If only we could remember how to kill the damn thing!"

"Help! Help me!"

"Ummm…uh," Hermione muttered, equally as frustrated. "Let me see, Devil's Snare, Devil's Scare…it's deadly fun...but will sulk in the sun! That's it! Devil's Snare hates sunlight!"

"So light a fire!" Harry said. "Hurry, Ron's choking!"

"Yes—of course—b-but there's no wood!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands.

"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MINE?" Ed bellowed, waving his arms like a raving lunatic. "ARE YOU A FREAKING WITCH OR NOT?"

"Oh, right!" said Hermione, and she whipped out her wand:

"Lumus Solem!"

A great burst of light gave forth from her wand, making the plant cringe, dropping Ron as it skulked away into the shadows. The three of them ran over and helped the gasping Ron back up to his feet.

"Are you ok?" Harry asked. "Lucky for us Hermione and Ed paid attention in Herbology."

Ron rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," he said, "and lucky Ed doesn't lose his head in a crisis—'there's no wood,' honestly, Hermione!"

"Well, I'm so sorry for rescuing you!" Hermione said, crossing her arms at the redhead. Ed also crossed his arms:

"I thought I was a bastard," he remarked sarcastically. Ron opened his mouth to snarl a nasty comeback at the blonde…but stopped himself. He frowned slightly and sighed in admittance:

"You are…but you're also a bastard that just saved our lives. Harry and I would be dead now if it weren't for you and Hermione."

Ed blinked in surprise, but did not reply; all they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls.

"So now what, Ed," Harry inquired, "you're either with us or against us from here on out."

"What, you mean you all are going on?" said the blonde with mild shock. "Why go through that just for a stone you're not even going to use?"

"To keep it from Voldemort! Did you even listen to us this entire year?" Harry exclaimed. "And apparently to keep it from you now, too, especially since we don't even know what you want it for. I don't even know where to begin guessing about that; it's like everything we thought we knew about you is a lie."

"Not everything," Ed said. "No need to over-dramatize this."

"Then just tell us what you want the Sorcerer's Stone for, Edward!" Hermione pleaded alongside Harry.

Ed stared at Harry for a long moment after that, though he did not necessarily truly see him. Instead he was remembering the night he got to talk to Alphonse in person, that day Dumbledore and McGonagall sent him to Hogwarts to visit the troubled boy. He knew even back then that the stone was at Hogwarts, and he knew after seeing Al again that he had to find a way to retrieve it for him. "We're so close…" "And yet so far away…yeah, I know, Al. It's killing me, too." "Brother—""No; don't. Professor Dumbledore already tried to tell me last night that what happened wasn't my fault. I know that's not the truth, though, Alphonse." That conversation had re-appeared again and again in his dreams since that night, posing as his purpose for betraying Harry, Ron and Hermione. He wished he could tell them and set everything straight, but at this point not only was it questionable whether or not they'd even believe him, but he knew that it would be a very dangerous move to reveal his secret on Hogwarts ground. On top of all that did they really need to know the Elric's deep, dark secret? Did he really even want to leave himself wide open to them? They deserved to know, they had trusted him this entire time…unless they were all playing the same exact game as he was…no. They were genuinely shocked about my lies. They wouldn't have even thought about doing the same.

Little did Edward know that Harry Potter was thinking about that exact same night, but in an entirely different light. The conversation that he had eavesdropped upon had never left his memory, and in this moment more than ever he wondered over what the last words he had heard meant. "But dammit, Al, what if I fail? What if you end up stuck like this forever, and all because of a stupid decision—a fucking evil idea on my part?" What decision could've led Ed to tears? What happened to Al that makes Ed have to steal an all-powerful magical object like the Sorcerer's Stone to fix? He wanted to ask him these questions right then and there while they were all in the forbidden corridor, but then that would mean Harry would have to admit that he had eavesdropped upon the Elric brothers. That would just put him in the same position as the treacherous Elric standing before him.

"I already told you all, I can't—I won't tell you," Ed spoke with finality.

Harry expected this reaction.

"So you're against us."

It wasn't a question. Hermione feebly cleared her throat before she spoke:

"Let's just keep going; the more we stop and argue like this the closer Snape is getting to the stone. We should worry more about him than Ed since Ed's with us, at least."

"I'm right here, y'know," Ed muttered under his breath. "I can hear every word you're saying."

The passageway sloped downward, making it look even more dark and dank than it already was.

"Can you hear something?" Ed said, quickly bringing his speaking voice down to a low hiss.

Harry listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.

"Do you think it's a ghost?" questioned Ron. Ed shook his head:

"Why would ghosts hang around here?"

"Maybe Dumbledore set them up here as protectors for the Stone," Harry suggested, though without any enthusiasm. The alchemist was right; no ghost would willingly spend his afterlife guarding a stone that was practically useless to them. "I don't know, it sounds like wings to me."

"There's a light up ahead," Hermione pointed out, "I can see something moving."

They reached the end of the passageway after a few more moments of silent stalking and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.

"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" said Ron.

"Probably," said Harry. "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swopped down at once…well, there's no other choice…I'll run."

He took a deep breath, covered his face with his arms, and sprinted across the room. He expected to feel sharp beaks tearing at him any second, but nothing happened. He reached the door untouched. He pulled at the handle but it was locked.

The other three followed him. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge, not even when Hermione tried her Alohomora charm. Ed was particularly frustrated at this for he knew a solution he could've used if he was alone. It would be easy for him to clap his hands and make a brand new, unlocked door out of the wall beside the locked exit, but he wasn't about to pull that stunt in front of three witnesses.

"Now what?" said Ron.

"These birds…they can't be here just for decoration," said Hermione.

Ed rolled his eyes and joined them in watching the birds soaring overhead, glittering—glittering?

"They're not birds!" Ed said suddenly. "They're keys! Winged keys—look carefully."

"You're right!" Hermione said in surprise, squinting up at their odd shapes. Harry looked around the room.

"So that must mean…yes."

"What?" questioned Ron.

"Look! Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!"

"But there are hundreds of them!" said Hermione. Ron turned and examined the lock on the door.

"We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one—probably silver, like the handle."

They each seized a broomstick and kicked off into the air, Ed a tiny bit shakier than the others due to his lack of faith in the flying brooms. Once he got a good, steely grip upon the handle he too was soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys. They grabbed and snatched, but the bewitched keys darted and dived so quickly it was almost impossible to catch a single one.

They were all relying on Harry, the youngest Seeker in a century on one of the House Quidditch teams, for he had a true knack for spotting things other people didn't. After a minute's weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, he noticed a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole.

"That one!" he called to the others. "That big one—there—no, there—with the bright blue wings—the feathers are all crumpled on one side."

Ed spotted it and went speeding in the direction that Harry was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and fell halfway off his broom. "Dammit!" he yelled as he pulled himself back onto the handle and blew his bangs out of his eyes. "I hate broomsticks!"

"We've got to close in on it!" Harry called, not taking his eyes off the key with the damaged wing. "Ed, you come at it from above—Ron, you from the side—Hermione, stay below and stop it from going down—and I'll try to catch it. Right…NOW!"

Ed dived, Hermione rocketed upward, Ron swerved, and the key dodged all three of them while Harry streaked after it. It sped toward the wall, and Harry leaned forward and, with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. Ron, Ed and Hermione's cheers echoed around the high chamber.

They landed quickly, Ed's touch-down more of a face plant than a landing, and Harry ran to the door, the key struggling in his hand. He rammed it into the lock and turned—it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.

~~*e.s.*~~

"Ok," Ed spoke to himself as they stepped through the door. "The dog was Hagrid's, the Devil's Snare Sprout's, and the key-birds must've been Flitwick's. We have Snape, Quirrell, Dumbledore, and McGonagall's left."

The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all…but as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.

"I think we've just found McGonagall's," Hermione squeaked at Ed.

The four of them were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessman, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Harry, Ron and Hermione shivered slightly—the towering white chessmen had no faces.

"Now what do we do?" Harry whispered.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Ron. "We've got to play our way across the room."

Sure enough, behind the white pieces Ed did in fact see another door.

"How?" said Hermione nervously. Ed looked sideways over at Ron.

"I don't like where this is going…"

"I know," said Ron, "but I think we're going to have to be chessmen."

He nervously walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron.

"Do we—er—have to join you to get across?"

The black knight nodded its monstrous head. Ron turned to the other three.

"This takes thinking about…" he said.

"Yeah," Ed agreed. "We'd better take the place of three black pieces that are least likely to be taken."

"Right."

"Wait," Hermione began faintly. "Do you mean to say that this will be like wizard's chess?"

"Duh," retorted Ed. "That's why he has to think carefully about this. It wouldn't do us any good if one of us got destroyed, would it?"

Harry and Hermione stayed quiet after that, watching Ron think. Finally he said, "Now, don't be offended or anything, but none of you are really that good at chess—"

"We're not offended," said Harry quickly. Ed frowned:

"Well, maybe a little."

"Shut up, Ed," Hermione hissed. Ron ignored the exchange:

"Harry, you take the place of that bishop, Hermione, you go next to him instead of that castle, and Ed, you go take the other rook."

"What about you?" the blonde questioned.

"I'm going to be a knight," said Ron, looking back up at the horse next to him.

The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words the knight, a bishop, and the rooks turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving three empty squares that Harry, Ron, Ed, and Hermione took.

"White always moves first…" said Ron, peering across the board. Sure enough just as he said it, a white pawn moved forward two squares.

Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Ed became more and more nervous as the game continued; not that he was an extremely bad chess player or anything, but if he were still going at this alone, there would've been a high chance that his endeavor would've ended here.

"Harry—move diagonally four spaces to the right."

Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.

"Had to let that happen," said Ron, looking shaken. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Ed, go on."

Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed in time that Ed and Harry were in danger. He himself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

"We're nearly there," he muttered suddenly. "Let me think—let me think…"

The white queen turned her blank face toward him.

"Yes…" said Ron softly, "it's the only way. I've got to be taken."

"NO!" Harry, Ed and Hermione shouted.

"That's chess!" snapped Ron. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and she'll take me—that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Ed! In order to get that, something of equal value must be lost: me."

Ed's jaw dropped at Ron's last words; he practically just recited the Law of Equivalent Exchange, alchemy's most basic and yet most important law.

"But—"

"Do you want to stop Snape or not?"

"Ron—"

"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!"

"Ron's right," Ed piped up. "There's no alternative."

Ron nodded, looking Ed in the eye. A silent exchange was passed between them in this look, one that was not only apologetic on Ed's part, but more importantly unconditionally forgiving on Ron's part. Once again the freckled redhead was Ed's friend, no matter the lies that had been passed between them throughout their first year at Hogwarts. It was just like the first encounter at Eeylops all over again.

"Give Snape a good punch to the hooked nose for me, alright Ed?"

Ed grinned and nodded. Ron turned back to face the white queen.

"Don't hang around once you've won."

He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor—Hermione screamed—the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he'd been knocked out. Harry looked equally as unraveled as Hermione did, but Ed's face remained as hard as stone. Hermione made to run over toward Ron—

"NO," Ed shouted at her. "Don't move! Remember, we're still playing."

Once he was sure she was staying right where she was, Ed took one last deep breath and moved three spaces to the left, looking the white king straight in its eerie blank face.

"Checkmate."

There was a paused, and then the white king took off his crown and threw it as Ed's feet. They had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Ron, the three of them charged through the door and up the next passageway.

"What if he's—?"

"He'll be all right," said Harry, trying to convince himself. He turned to Ed:

"You have all of this figured out; what do you reckon's next?"

Ed ticked off the teachers from his fingers:

"…all that's left is Quirrell's, Snape's and Dumbledore's, which means that there will be something related to Potions and the Dark Arts left for sure."

"What about Dumbledore's?" Hermione scrutinized. "Have you any idea on what his might be?"

Ed shook his head:

"No idea. He's the only one I couldn't figure out."

Even as he said this, though, Ed was yet again lying, for he was certain that the Mirror of Erised would be present in the last chamber.

"With good reason; Dumbledore's a mystery," Harry conceded.

They had reached another door; as soon as Ed pushed it open, a disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making the trio pull their robes up over their noses. Eyes watering, they saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head.

"This must be Quirrell's," Ed stated. "Remember Halloween, the way he reacted to that troll? He must've thought that it was a good threat."

"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," Harry whispered as they stepped carefully over one of its massive legs. "Come on, I can't breathe."

Ed looked with dismay at the troll; I would've actually looked forward to having a go at the stupid thing…

Harry pulled open the next door, hardly daring to look at what came next—but there was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

"Snape's," said Ed, and he turned back towards Harry and Hermione.

"What do we have to do?" said the scarred boy.

They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire, either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. They were trapped.

"Look!" Hermione seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles and read aloud:

"Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,

Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,

One among us seven will let you move ahead,

Another will transport the drinker back instead,

Two among our number hold only nettle wine,

Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.

Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,

To help you in your choir, we give you these clues four:

First, however slyly the poison tries to hide

You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;

Second, different are those who stand at either end,

But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;

Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,

Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;

Fourth, the second left and the second on the right

Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight."

Hermione let out a great sigh and Harry and Ed, amazed, saw that she was smiling, the very last thing either of them felt like doing.

"Brilliant," said Hermione. "This isn't magic—it's logic—a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic; they'd be stuck in here forever."

"But so will we, won't we?" said Harry.

"Hey, I take offense to that," Ed remarked, pushing past Harry to get a better look at the clues. "Don't be so unconfident, we have everything we need! Let me see that paper, Hermione."

"Seven bottles," Hermione recited while Ed re-read the riddle. "Three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple."

"But how do we know which to drink?" Harry asked.

"Give us a minute," Hermione said, looking over the paper with Ed again, muttering back and forth with the bright Elric brother. Occasionally one of them would walk up and down the line of bottles, muttering to themselves and pointing at them. At last Hermione clapped her hands.

"Got it," they said in unison, then grinned at each other.

"The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire—toward the Philosopher's Stone," Ed announced.

Harry and Hermione stared at him.

"You mean Sorcerer's Stone?" Hermione asked the blonde. Ed gulped, and then nodded, unsuccessfully attempting to laugh of his mistake. Harry looked at the tiny bottle, picking it up and swishing its contents around next to his ear.

"There's only enough there for about two swallows," he said. "That'll be barely enough for two of us, let alone three."

They looked at each other.

"Who goes back?" Ed asked. Harry remained silent but continued to stare at Edward; it was obvious that he wished for the traitor to go, so as to guarantee the Stone's safety. Hermione had a different plan, however; she walked over to the table and picked up a rounded bottle at the right end of the line.

"This one will get someone back through the purple flames…"

She looked up at the boys.

"I'll drink this; Harry, you take Ed with you and stop Snape."

"But Hermione—"

"No buts; I trust Ed and so should you!"

Ed blinked back his surprised; what just happened here?

"How can you trust him? After all he's lied to us—"

"It must've been for a good reason or else he wouldn't have done that," Hermione spoke quietly, looking up at Ed. "Am I right?"

Ed could feel his heart pounding in his chest; after everything he did to them, Ron and Hermione still forgave him and still wished to remain friends. How was he supposed to respond to that?

"…Yes. I don't want the Stone for myself; I want it…"

For my brother.

"…for a cause far greater than my own."

Hermione nodded:

"Then I trust you, Ed."

Harry opened his mouth to protest once again, but stopped himself. He trusted Hermione's wit more than his own instinct; if she trusted Ed then he must be on their side. Besides, if Voldemort is in there with Snape, Harry will need all the back-up he can get. Relying on the same luck that saved his life as a baby didn't seem like enough to cut it.

Hermione's lip began to tremble as she looked at the two of them, and she suddenly dashed at Ed and threw her arms around him.

"Wha—?" Ed began, but she cut him off.

"You've been a great friend this entire year, Ed. I'm so glad you're in Gryffindor with us, so glad I met you."

Ed's blush slowly formed into a small smile:

"Same here, Hermione. Thanks."

She then attacked Harry:

"Harry—you're a great wizard, you know."

"I'm not as good as you," said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him.

"Me!" said Hermione. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things—friendship and bravery and—oh Harry, Ed—be careful!"

"We will," Ed said, waving off her concern. "Don't you be worried about us; you need to get back and get Ron."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "And once you two are out of the corridor, send either Hedwig or Nova, whichever one's awake, to Dumbledore. We need him."

"Right."

"You drink first; you two are sure which is which, aren't you?"

"Positive," said Hermione. She took a long drink from the round bottle, and shuddered.

"It's not poison, right?" said Harry anxiously.

"No—but it's like ice."

"Quick, go," said Ed, "before it wears off."

"Good luck—take care—"

"GO!" the boys shouted in unison.

Hermione turned and walked straight through the purple fire.

Harry and Ed looked at each other.

"Well…" Harry said, taking the small bottle from the table. "Here goes nothing."

He took a swig and passed it to the alchemist, who drained the little bottle in one gulp. It was indeed as though ice was flooding hid body, Edward thought as he made to pass through the dark, menacing wall of fire. He braced himself, saw the black flames licking his body, but could not feel them—for a moment he could see nothing but dark fire—the he was on the other side, in the last chamber. There was already someone there—but it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Voldemort.

It was Quirrell.

"You?" gasped Harry.

"You!" growled Ed.

Quirrell turned and smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all.

"Me," he said calmly. "Knew I'd be meeting you here, Elric, and I'm none too surprised to see you as well, Potter."

Ed had to stop himself from asking Quirrell how he knew Ed would go after the Stone, for he knew that Quirrell would answer truthfully and therefore reveal his secret to the unsuspecting Harry…wait. Did it really matter anymore? Now that there was a far more experienced wizard in front of him, standing between him and the Sorcerer's Stone, he would need to use alchemy, or else he would not stand a chance of beating him. This was the point of no return, the point when the truth would have to come out in order for Ed's goal to be achieved. He took a deep breath, for he could already feel the spectacled boy's green eyes boring into the side of his head and had to work to keep from succumbing under the accusing gaze.

"You know."

It wasn't a question, but Quirrell was more than happy to answer the boy.

"Of course I know; I don't think any of the Professors don't know. Those who weren't told directly of you dark past heard the story through the grapevine, Elric. You have no secrets here."

"…What's he talking about, Ed?" Harry questioned, trying hard to keep his voice from shaking. Ed ignored him and focused on Quirrell still:

"Not only that but I met some...people in the forest. They seemed very interested in keeping a watch upon one of the students. My guess is that they were looking for you."

"Yeah, they told me to tell you they said hello," Ed sneered. "You must have made an impression on them."

"Nothing like the impression they left on you though, right Mr. Elric? After all, they threatened you brother…and isn't he the whole reason you're here in the first place?"

Ed flinched, utilizing every ounce of his willpower to not look at Harry, making Quirrell laugh with sick pleasure:

"You mean you haven't told them? Potter has followed you all this way for an unknown reason?"

"I meant to come alone," said Ed. "That stone belongs to me!"

"This shall be interesting then…"

"You shut your mouth," Ed growled in warning. Harry shook his head:

"But I thought," he stuttered in confusion. "Snape—"

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"

Harry couldn't seem to be able to take it in; to him, this all couldn't be true, it just couldn't. Ed remained silent though, listening carefully to the treacherous wizard, hoping he'll let something that'll help lead to his downfall in his evil monologue.

"But Snape tried to kill me!" Harry suddenly yelled.

"No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a counter-curse, trying to save you."

"Snape was trying to save me?"

"That doesn't sound like the bastard at all," Ed remarked, raising his eyebrows at the idea. "Huh."

"Of course," said Quirrell coolly. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really…he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular…and what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight."

Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry.

"You're too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"You let the troll in?" Harry gasped. Ed's glare turned icy; I knew it!

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls—you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off—and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly."

Quirrell smirked:

"It's funny…Severus suspected you all along, too, Elric."

Ed's eyes widened at this piece of information; no wonder the Potion's master hated him so much! He knew all along about Ed's dark past and of his criminal plans to fix it.

"Now, wait quietly, you two. I need to examine this interesting mirror."

It was only then that Harry and Ed realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.

"…That's the key to the Stone," Ed whispered to Harry. "Somehow, Dumbledore must've put it in the mirror. We've got to keep Quirrell from figuring it out."

"Why, so you can get it instead?" Harry hissed. Ed rolled his eyes:

"Now's not the time for that! Would you rather me have it, or him?"

"Fair enough…all I can think of doing is to keep him talking and stop him from concentrating."

"Good enough," Ed nodded, and then cleared his throat:

"We saw you and Snape in the forest—"

"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me—as thought he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side…."

"Lord Voldemort…" Ed whispered, frowning slightly. "Where have I heard that name before?"

"Are you joking?" Harry remarked. "He's the whole reason my parents are dead, and that those unicorns are dead, and that Quirrell's here! How could you forget him?"

"Sorry! It's just such a forgettable name to me."

Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it.

"I see the Stone…I'm presenting it to my master…but where is it?"

Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn't give. Ed followed suite but came down to a similar result. He racked his brain for a plan b and came up with one rather quickly…but it involved using alchemy. He had to get in front of that mirror somehow, had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the enchanted glass…

"…Fuck it."

Edward completely ignored Harry as he managed to wriggle his hands free from the binds and clapped them together. With the burst of light from the transmutation, Edward slapped his left hand upon his automail arm, ripping up his glove and his sleeve as he transmuted the steel into a blade. He took no time to relish in this exhibition of alchemy, nor did he dare look towards Harry; with the blade he rapidly ripped through his binds and leapt to his feet, sprinting over to the mirror and roughly shoving Quirrell away from his reflection. There in the mirror he could see himself restored back to his original self, standing next to a very human Alphonse. The golden eyes within the reflection shined in the firelight…but the Sorcerer's Stone was nowhere to be found. Ed furrowed his brow, patting at his pockets in confusion.

"…Where is it?" he whispered to himself, his mind racing. What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment is to find the Stone so I can use it to restore Alphonse's body. So if I look in the mirror, I should see myself finding it, meaning that I'll see where it's hidden! But .it?

"Move, Elric!" Quirrell roared as he shoved into the boy, causing him to stumble away from his spot in front to the mirror, making his reflection and the image of Alphonse disappear into smoke. Ed gritted his teeth and lunged back at the professor, but was shot back by a shield charm silently cast without Ed's knowing.

"Give it up," Quirrell said nastily, looking down upon the boy with evil distaste.

"Never!" Ed yelled, clapping his hands together and slamming them down upon the stone floor. The effect was immediate; huge spikey stone spikes protruded from the ground and made their way across toward where Quirrell stood. But the shield charm was still there; the spikes slammed into the invisible wall and ceased to be right before they got the chance to maim Quirrell.

"Damn," Ed cursed, his antenna drooping slightly. He was running out of options already, and to his great frustration, Quirrell was back to ignoring him and focusing in on the mirror.

"…What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"

Master? Ed thought, looking at Quirrell with confusion. To his horror, however, a voice actually answered him, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.

"Use the boy…Use the boy…"

Quirrell paused for a moment, and then rounded on Harry.

"Potter!"

He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Harry fell off.

"…Come here."

Harry slowly got to his feet, and when Edward looked up at him, he could see the fear and disbelief in his green eyes.

"Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

Harry broke eye contact with the alchemist and walked toward him. Quirrell moved close behind him, and Harry breathed in a funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban. He closed his eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again.

Ed's breath suddenly caught in his throat; he had just realized what Dumbledore was getting at with this mirror. Of course the old man wasn't going to let just anyone who desired the stone get ahold of it through that reflection; it would have to go to someone who did not desire to use it on themselves. This assumption made him frown, though, for why wouldn't he had been able to get it? He didn't want the stone for himself, not at all, he just wanted to get Alphonse's body back…

Unless the stone would only appear to someone who doesn't want to use it at all.

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"

Ed watched Harry screw up his courage.

"I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," he spoke. "I—I've won the house cup for Gryffindor."

Quirrell cursed again.

"Get out of the way," he said. As Harry moved aside, Ed focused in on his pockets…and saw a rock-shaped bulge in his right pant leg. Ed jumped to his feet, eyeing it ravenously; Harry had the Sorcerer's Stone. But he hadn't walked five paces before a high, hissing voice spoke.

"HE LIES…"

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you see?"

The creepy voice spoke again.

"Let me speak to him…face-to-face…"

Quirrell's eyes widened as he looked up at his turban. Ed raised an eyebrow; what the hell is going on here…?

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough…for this…"

Ed looked back and forth from Quirrell to Harry, who looked absolutely rooted to the spot. He watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it…then he turned slowly on the spot. Harry and Ed's jaws dropped. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most ugly, terrible face either of the boys had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

"…and I thought Malfoy was pale," was all Ed could think of saying. The face ignored him, instead looking straight at Harry.

"Harry Potter…" it whispered.

Harry still did not move.

"See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor…I have form only when I can share another's body…but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds…Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks…you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest…and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own…Now…why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket."

So he knew. Ed's eyes narrowed threateningly as Harry stumbled.

"Don't you dare, Harry!" the alchemist yelled.

"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better save your own life and join me…or you'll meet the same end as your parents…They died begging me for mercy…"

"LIAR!" Harry shouted suddenly.

Quirrell was walking backward at them, so that Voldemort could still see. The evil face was now smiling.

"How touching…" it hissed. "I always value bravery…Yes, boy, your parents were brave…I killed your father first, and he put up a courageous fight…but your mother needn't have died…she was trying to protect you…Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."

"NEVER!" Harry roared, thrusting his hand into his pocket, securing the Stone within his grip. He glanced over his shoulder at Edward, who was desperately trying to get him to look at him. He made to spring toward the flame door, but at the last second tore the Stone out of his pocket and threw it into Ed's hands. Quirrell turned sharply, allowing Voldemort to glower at him with pure hatred.

"Edward Elric…spawn of Hohenheim, correct?"

Ed stood his ground, refusing to look the least bit uneasy about talking to the back of a man's head as he stuffed the Stone back into his pant pocket.

"What is it to you?"

"It is everything to me…just like that Stone is to you…"

Ed wrinkled his nose: "Don't compare me to you; at least I have a body!"

"Yes you do, incomplete as it is…yes, Professor Quirrell here has told me all about you…you could make a valuable asset, you know."

Ed stared, and then raised an eyebrow at the twisted face.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It does not matter at this moment…all that matters now is that you give me the Stone!"

"NO!"

At once Quirrell lunged, but Ed was far too quick to be taken down so easily. He ran across the room away from the dark wizard, keeping one hand upon his pocket, as if the Stone was a crutch of some sort for him to rely on. When he looked up from doing this, however, he could not see Quirrell or Voldemort anywhere. Harry looked equally as perplexed as Ed, looking around the room for the pair. When they finally appeared it was as if smoke materialized into flesh and bone, for they randomly appeared right behind Ed, causing a yell of surprise to emit from his throat.

"Ed! Toss it here!"

"But—"

"JUST DO IT!"

Quirrell's hand gripped at Ed's shoulder; Ed swung his automail fist around and slugged the wizard straight in the jaw, freeing his shoulder; he reluctantly obliged Harry and extracted the precious Sorcerer's Stone from his pocket, tossing it away from his possession into the free hands of Harry Potter.

The next second Harry felt Quirrell materialize behind him. His hand closed around Harry's wrists, and at once a needle-sharp pain seared across Harry's scar. His head felt as though it was about to split in two; he yelled, struggling with all his might. Ed was there just as the pain in Harry's scar practically blinded the boy and leapt on top of Quirrell, dragging the man down to the ground. He re-transmuted his automail into a blade once more and made to go in for another attack—but at the flick of his wrist, Quirrell placed another shield charm in front of him, causing Edward to run face-first into the invisible force field. While he quickly picked himself back up, Quirrell approached the blonde boy and wrapped his spider-like fingers around his steel arm, bring his other palm to hover over the prosthetic. When he felt Quirrell's spindly hand Ed rapidly swung his automail leg up and into Quirrell's jaw. He staggered back, relinquishing his grip on the alchemist's arm. Ed wasted no time in the fight, clapping his hands together furiously…

"…AAAAAAAAAUGHHH!"

Quirrell rose, one hand still clasping onto his deeply bruised jaw, the other held steady out in front of him, his palm down, his fingers pointed at Ed, torturing him with an invisible spell, causing him to yell in torment, sweat beginning to bead down his twisted, agonized face. Never before had he felt pain this terrible, not even when he got his automail installed. It was as if the curse was combining different types of torture, physical and mental, for in the midst of his pain, dreadful images of his mother's mangled body and Alphonse's cold, timorous eyes evaporating into nothingness appeared before his eyes. Never before had the young Elric felt more intense of a wish to die than at that very moment of persecution.

Without another word, Quirrell lifted the curse, replacing his hand upon Ed's steel prosthetic while the poor boy attempted to regain his breath. With his other hand raised above the arm, he effortlessly destroyed the automail, rendering Edward Elric practically defenseless. With one last evil smirk, the professor lifted the boy up by his shirt, relishing in the cringe plastered upon the boy's broken face.

"…you should've let your brother be. It would've been better to leave him dead, so you would be able to see him after I kill you."

"NO..." Voldemort hissed at the back of Quirrell's head. "Potter has the Stone…Potter first, you fool."

Quirrell nodded once and rammed Edward's petite body into the stone wall, rendering him unconscious and bleeding profusely, before re-approaching Harry, who now found himself staring at the lifeless, bloody lump of Edward lying against the wall, fear setting in as his scar flamed up in one final burst of excruciation.

Alphonse…

~~*e.s.*~~

"Al."

Sure enough, the small, emaciated figure lifted his skinny face up to Edward upon recognizing his name, and the sad sight of him made the older boy nearly choke on a sob. He took a hesitant step forward:

"Alphonse…I'm here. I'm here to bring you home."

Al offered Ed a sad smile.

"You can't do that."

"W-why not?"

Just then, then stone doorway of truth behind Edward opened up, and the black, smoke-like arms and hands reached out and grabbed him, dragging him back into the doorway, back into the cursed world. Ed struggled fiercely against his binds.

"Al! Al, come with me!"

"I can't."

"AL!"

But it was too late; just as Ed was engulfed within the door's darkness; Al bowed his head solemnly, hopelessly.

~~*e.s.*~~

…

~~*e.s.*

Two golden orbs bolted open in horrific unison, and then began to rapidly blink as small beads of sweat trickled into their crevices, urging on more unwanted tears. Edward's chest heaved, though with some difficulty; he could feel a sharp, piercing pain restricting his lungs from taking in their full capacity. He realized only after some foggy, stalled thinking that he was injured. Just before he could ask himself how he gained those wounds, however, everything came sweeping back in.

Knew I'd be meeting you here, Elric.

After all, they threatened you brother…and isn't he the whole reason you're here in the first place?

…What is he talking about, Ed?

You could make a valuable asset, you know.

…you should've let your brother be. It would've been better to leave him dead, so you would be able to see him after I kill you.

Ed's already haggard breathing became even choppier. It would've been better to leave him dead…to leave Alphonse dead…

"…no…"

"Ah. Are you fully awake at last, Edward?"

Ed jumped at the sound of the foreign voice, immediately regretting the sudden movement right after executing it.

"Oww…"

He looked up to see who his visitor was, and was met with the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore.

"Good morning, Mr. Elric. How do you feel?"

Ed slowly sat up from his small pile of pillows, wincing as the sharp pain returned. He blinked his eyes again, trying to pinpoint all of the places in his body that are injured.

"Like I've been hit by a train…twice."

Dumbledore chuckled at the boy's sarcastic comment. Ed yawned widely and observed his surroundings; he deduced that he was in the hospital wing, in bed with numerous bandages covering the injured places on his body, and a sling cradling his immobile automail arm.

"I fixed it as well as I could," the headmaster explained upon seeing Edward examining his metal prosthetic. "I decided that it'd be best to wait for your mechanic to get here up before re-attaching the nerves."

"...What? You called Winry?"

"Yes. She should arrive sometime this evening, and she is bringing young Alphonse along with her, for he wished to see you."

Ed's eyes were full of a mixture of fright and concern.

"You didn't tell them about what happened, did you? Was Winry mad? She didn't tell Al I was hurt, did she?"

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are injured. Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out."

At the sound of her name, Madam Pomfrey popped her head out of her office.

"Oh good, Mr. Elric, you're finally awake."

She shuffled over, grabbing a tall, white bottle and a small metal goblet on her way, pouring a serving for Edward.

"Drink this."

Ed looked at her, uneasily sniffing at the potion. "What is it?"

"Don't ask questions, just drink, boy!" the nurse snapped. "It will help to mend your broken ribs; I can only do so much with a wand, you know."

Ed frowned but nonetheless downed the liquid, plugging his nose in order to take it in easier. It tasted more like carbonated pee than medicine to him, but he dared not inform Madam Pomfrey of his opinion. When she took the now-empty cup from his trembling hand, he raised his eyebrows at the fact that she had trouble finding room on the bedside table, for its top was completely covered with cards and candy.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore, chuckling again. "What happened down in the dungeons with you, Harry and Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows."

"Harry!" Ed exclaimed suddenly in a hoarse yelp. "What happened to him, where is he?"

"If you do not stop yelling you'll wake him up," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the bed to the left of where he sat. There Harry laid, sound asleep, with far less bandages and wrappings than Edward bore. The blonde alchemist sighed in relief; at least his friend made it out ok.

"How did we get out of there?"

"I was on my way to London when a certain little barn owl ran into me midair. I caught her before she fell—she was quite disgruntled, might I add—and read the letter she bore, which was from Hermione telling me about what was going on in the dungeons. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off of Harry, and then I saw you. You were unconscious, and there was quite a lot of blood coming from those cuts on your forehead and chest. I feared I might be too late; between your fight with Voldemort—oh yes, I know all about your alchemy, Harry told me all about that—and the effort Harry utilized to keep the Stone safe nearly resulted in both of your deaths. For a moment there, when I first saw you I was afraid you were already gone."

Edward flinched, but this time it was not because of pain.

"So everyone knows."

Dumbledore's expression was sympathetic:

"No, Edward, everyone does not know."

Ed raised an eyebrow.

"But you just said Harry told you—"

"All about your alchemy. He knew nothing about why you learned it and I kept it that way. I did not tell a soul about why you have two artificial limbs."

"So they're all going to confront me later about that."

"I have left the decision to tell them about your past up to you and only you. It is pointless to keep your alchemy a secret anymore, especially since it has made you a hero. But the story about you and your brother is yours to tell, only if you wish."

Ed nodded in understanding. He knew he needed to tell his friends, especially Harry. They've been through enough already; they deserve to know the truth, every bit of it.

"How long have we been in here?" he asked the bespectacled headmaster, who obliged to answer the boy fully.

"Today is the fifth day. Harry awakened two days ago, so you are a bit more behind the times than he is. Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have finally come round, they have been so worried."

"They have?"

"Yes, of course. Every time they would come to visit Harry they would ask Madam Pomfrey about you, waiting to see when you'd wake up. There were a couple of instances when we thought you'd come around, but you were just stirring from a nightmare and you did not wake up completely."

More like ten nightmares, Edward thought, frowning to himself. Maybe it's a good thing Al's coming over; I need to see him again, to make sure he's alright.

"I'm surprised at you, Edward."

Ed looked up in confusion, urging a smile out of the old wizard.

"I'm surprised you haven't yet asked about the Sorcerer's Stone."

Ed blinked, and then bowed his head in shame, unable to look the professor in the eye.

"Yeah…I just thought that it was a forbidden topic. Especially now."

"It does not matter now," Dumbledore remarked, "for it has been destroyed."

Ed's eyes widened in horror:

"Destroyed? Why? How did—why—how could you have let that happen?"

"Calm down Edward, allow me to explain before you accuse me!"

Edward was seething with fury, his eyes blazing at the old man. His one way to fix Alphonse, destroyed.

"Are you ready to listen?"

No, he wasn't, not at all. He was ready to strangle. But despite his anger, Ed locked his jaw and nodded, his eyes unblinking.

"Well, my friend Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed that it was for the best that the Stone should be destroyed, for an all-powerful object such as that one was too dangerous to exist, especially with a dark wizard like Voldemort after it. Though this means he and his wife will finally perish, he feels that to cease all of the troublesome things caused by the Stone is worth his death."

"But…I needed that. I needed it for Alphonse—you knew that, Professor, that's the whole reason I came to this school!"

"No," Dumbledore said strictly. "The reason you came to this school was to learn magic, Edward."

"I don't care about magic!" Ed exclaimed, tears stinging his eyes, threatening to come loose. "How could I possibly care about magic when my little brother is nothing but a suit of armor?"

"Because there are other, more optimal ways to restore Alphonse's body."

Edward froze, taking in what Dumbledore had just said.

"Other ways?"

"Yes, Edward. Other ways far more…well, humane, than to use the Sorcerer's Stone."

"Humane? What do you mean by humane?"

Dumbledore hesitated before finally explaining himself carefully:

"The way the Sorcerer's Stone was made, Edward, was through a long, gruesome method of alchemy that I do not care to explain. The ingredients that it took to make it were extremely dark in nature…if you knew what it took to make a pure Sorcerer's Stone you would not have ever considered even searching for it."

"Pure Stone? Are you saying that there are incomplete Philosopher's Stones out there?"

"…yes, there are. They are not much different than the Sorcerer's Stone in the sense that the use the same ingredients to make them, but they do not contain the Elixir in them and they are a bit dumbed-down in their alchemy-enhancing powers, if you will. They still work rather well and, as I'm sure you know, many of the world's militaries have been caught secretly using them in alchemic combat."

"Oh," Edward said, acting as if he knew that when he actually didn't. Obviously he would have had to do much more research on Amestrian war history before joining their military.

"But that is beside the point, Edward," Dumbledore insisted. "You needn't even consider the Stone to help Alphonse; there are other ways, ways you will learn about in your upcoming years at Hogwarts."

Ed frowned at Dumbledore: "Why can't you just tell me now so that Al can have a body during his first year here?"

"Because, unfortunately, you are not ready to know of that information just yet. Certain things require time to prepare their coming to be. When you are ready, you will know, Edward."

"That's not fair to Alphonse…" Edward muttered out of Dumbledore's earshot. He knew he had no choice but to just listen to what the wizard said, for when Dumbledore has his mind made up on whether or not to tell about something, he will stick to it.

"Is there anything else you wish to talk to me about, Edward?"

Ed started to shake his head, but stopped. What was that thing that Quirrell did to him, back in the dungeons, the thing that caused him so much pain and agony?

"Yeah; back in the last chamber, Quirrell put some sort of spell on me that, I don't know, tortured me…? What would cause that?"

Dumbledore's expression became much darker.

"That, my boy, was the Cruciatus Curse."

…Cruciatus, Edward thought. That's the Latin root for excruciating; so it was a torture spell.

"It is an Unforgivable Spell; it causes the victim to suffer from every type of physical and mental torture that could possibly exist, all in unison. It is possibly the vilest of all curses, other than the Killing Curse, of course."

"And so he used it on me not only to stop me from interfering with the Stone, but also to cause me extreme pain and suffering."

He shuddered slightly as he recalled the horrific images the curse caused him to experience, ghastly recreations of when Al was taken away, his mother's dead body, and a demonic version of Truth.

"What was the purpose of going to that extreme?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

"Good question…but that is yet another question that I cannot answer just yet. That in particular is something you will have to find out on your own. I'm sure you will in time, for it is practically the entire essence of your past."

Ed frowned deeply; for some reason all of Dumbledore's answers to his questions only make him more questionable.

"Alas, that shall have to be the last one. I suggest you make a start on these sweets, Edward."

Ed laughed once, turning his attention to his mini candy shop with pleasure. As the headmaster turned to leave, though, Edward stopped him.

"Yes, what is it, Mr. Elric?"

"…Thanks for everything, Professor."

Dumbledore just smiled as he exited the Hospital Wing.

~~*e.s.*~~

Harry woke up about an hour and a half after Dumbledore left. When he saw Ed was finally awake, he did not say anything at first, waiting until Ed realized he was up. It seemed like forever when the blonde finally looked his way, unsmiling, as if he was afraid Harry would take it the wrong way.

"How long have you been up?" Harry said, being the first to break the awkward silence.

"Since about eight-thirty this morning."

"Barely?"

"Yeah…I was pretty out of it."

"So was I, don't worry about it," Harry said, laughing lightheartedly, causing Ed's mouth to form into a small smile. Harry got a better look at Edward as he sat up and frowned; he was considerably more beat-up than him, but that's not what he was looking at. No, it was the steel prosthetic that caught the young wizard's attention. How did Ed manage to keep that secret from everyone?

Edward saw him staring and chuckled once, very dryly.

"The truth is finally out, I guess."

"Not exactly," Harry replied, meeting Edward's eye. "I have a secret to tell you, too. I kind of…no, not kind of…I did eavesdrop on you and Alphonse when he was visiting during Christmas break. I overheard your conversation, Ed, and I'm sorry. That was wrong of me to invade on your privacy. It was none of my business, what you and Alphonse were talking about."

Ed's eyes were wide.

"W-what did you hear?"

Harry bit his lip.

"…something about Alphonse being ripped away from the world," Harry said softly, "and then you blamed yourself for the entire idea or something like that. I think…I think you were crying, too."

Ed gaped at him, quickly gulping down the bile that had gathered within his throat before replying:

"I see."

"I'm really sorry, Ed. I shouldn't have—"

"Will you quit apologizing already?" Ed suddenly snapped. "It's my damn fault anyway, for keeping all of that a secret from you, Ron and Hermione!"

Harry was silent; how was he supposed to reply to that?

"You all deserve to know; I've dragged you along my trail of lies for long enough. Al's coming to Hogwarts tonight, and I'm going to assume that Ron and Hermione will come visit us later this evening, too. Then I will tell everyone about how I lost my arm and leg, and…about what happened to Alphonse."

"Leg?"

Ed nodded, pulling up his bedclothes and then his pant leg, showing Harry his automail. Harry's eyes widened:

"Did it hurt? I mean…when you got those?"

To his surprise Ed laughed out loud, a hoarse, sadistic laugh that made his blonde antenna bounce up and down.

"Hell yes it did! Especially when the nerve endings had to be wired up and then attached to the prosthetics!"

He huffed, still smiling without humor.

"Doesn't matter. I deserved that hell."

Harry refrained from asking anymore questions after that; Edward had obviously gone through a lot, and the fact that he was unable to get ahold of the Stone in the end had made him even bitterer, by the looks of it. He wasn't particularly irritable, but it was obvious that whatever he has to tell him, Ron and Hermione was going to be a great shock to all of them. Evening came faster than either Harry or Ed would've expected it to, but they supposed that between visiting with other friends and sampling all of their candy, the day flew by. Ed was relieved to see that Harry did not hold a grudge very long, and that every bit of distrust he bore the night they went after the Stone had disappeared. They were on better terms than ever now, but how long would that last, Ed wondered. Would Harry revoke their friendship as soon as he found out about Ed and Al's secret?

Will everyone?

Winry and Alphonse were the first to show up, arriving whilst Ron and Hermione were having dinner, Winry looking both concerned and absolutely pissed-off at the same time. She politely introduced herself to Harry, her tone as sweet and amiable as ever, making Ed think that his beating would possibly be spared due to her apparently good mood…

"…And YOU!"

"Meep!" Edward cowered, scooting away from his crazy mechanic.

"How dare you abuse my precious automail, Ed? I worked so hard to make it just right for you, and just look at it! How did you manage to destroy it, anyway?"

"I, uhm, well…Dumbledore didn't tell you?"

"ANSWER ME, ED!"

Ed and Al visibly shook with fear; Ed had to struggle to clear his throat before feebly answering:

"…I kind of got into a fight with a dark wizard."

Winry blinked, stared at him, and then—

BONK! "YOU IDIOT!"

"Big brother! Are you ok?"

Ed cringed into his bed sheets, his hand gently grazing the throbbing bump on his head caused by the wrath of Winry's giant wrench.

"Sheesh, woman, I'm already in the damn hospital!"

"Oh, shut up, you dummy, and let me look at your arm!"

"Fine!" Ed snapped with finality, scooting over while the blonde mechanic grabbed a stool and opened up her tool bag. Harry had to swallow the laughter that threatened to bubble out during the comical scene of Ed being hit with a wrench. Alphonse came over to his bedside whilst his big brother got his prosthetic worked on.

"Are you hurt very badly?" the young boy asked the black-haired wizard, who shook his head.

"I don't think so anymore; Madam Pomfrey, our school nurse is really handy with healing spells. I was out for three days, though, according to Professor Dumbledore."

"Yikes! Were you also fighting a dark wizard?"

"Yeah," Harry said, glancing over at Ed. "We we're fighting the same guy, Ed and I. We had to keep him from a really important piece of magic."

"The Philosopher's Stone."

Harry looked up at Al in shock, making the suit of armor back away from his bedside suddenly, shaking with nervousness.

"Was I not supposed to know about that?" the younger Elric squeaked, earning himself a look of confusion from Ed and Winry.

"Know about what?"

"The Stone," Harry said, turning his gaze to Ed. "You told him?"

Ed gulped.

"Uh, yeah, about that…"

Harry sighed: "I guess it doesn't really matter, now that it's been destroyed."

"What?" Al shrieked. "What do you mean 'destroyed?"

"You all better hush up!" Madam Pomfrey barked from within her office, "or else I'll have to kick you out!"

"Hey, I need my mechanic here, y'know!" Ed retorted.

"Not if she's upsetting you; I'm more worried about your real body than your artificial limbs!"

Winry pouted at this:

"She didn't have to go and say that; and I wasn't even the one making the noise here…"

Alphonse looked back and forth between Harry and Ed.

"…Why was the Stone destroyed? What are we supposed to do now, Ed?"

"I don't know," Ed sighed in response to the second question. "And it was destroyed because the dark wizard we were battling was after it."

"He wanted it to achieve immortality," Harry explained. "Which would've been really bad news for the rest of the world if he managed to get it; he's killed a lot of people before he got destroyed and will no doubt do it again after getting a body."

There was silence in the room for a long moment after that. Everyone was thinking about the same thing, minus Winry who knew nothing about Harry Potter other than what she had just learned upon their first meeting. Alphonse only knew because of his Christmastime visit, but even then he couldn't seize up just how much of a big deal it truly was. He was beginning to realize that Voldemort was much more of a threat than what he had initially assumed, however, since his presence resulted in the Philosopher's Stone having to be destroyed.

"…How did you manage to get your arm put back together, Ed?"

Ed shook his head:

"It wasn't me," he explained to Winry. "Professor Dumbledore fixed it with some spell."

"Not completely," she frowned. "You can tell it was completely destroyed; there are bits of broken metal here and there, and that screw isn't in right…"

Ed looked at her with concern: "Will it have to be completely rebuilt?"

"No, no," she assured him. "I'm just going to do a good, quick polishing now and then re-attach the nerves, which is the one thing Dumbledore didn't do. Other than that it should work just fine."

Harry's eyes widened slightly at that statement, and he hesitated before asking quietly:

"…Do you have to re-attach them one at a time?"

Winry paused in her polishing and looked back at him.

"What, his nerves?"

Harry nodded, adjusting his glasses; Winry smiled and shook her head.

"When he got the installation surgery the surgeon—my granny—wired the arm and leg according to how his synapses and neurotransmitters are made up, so that whenever we detach the arm or leg none of the mapping is lost, and we can re-attach it quickly and with ease…"

She paused in her explanation as she turned back to Ed, who nodded that he was ready, and then she snapped the arm securely back into its port. Ed let out a sharp groan of pain through his tightly gritted teeth when the nerves were hooked up to the arm.

"…just like that!" Winry finished cheerfully. Harry watched with awe as Ed began to wiggle his fingers and move his arm around, testing the signals in order to make sure all was functioning correctly. It was so mobile and flexible that he could even stretch it behind his back, exposing an artificial armpit full of wires and steel.

"That's amazing," Harry remarked. Winry's smile grew as she thanked him, her eyes sparkling at the wonderful compliment.

"Everything working all right?" Winry asked Ed before dragging her stool to the other side of the bed so as to check up on his leg.

The doors to the hospital wing opened then, and in trod Hermione and Ron.

"ED!" they yelled in unison, running up to his bedside immediately.

"You're awake!"

"How are you holding up?"

"Oh my goodness, look at your head!"

"Is that a metal arm?"

"Hey guys," was all Ed could say in response to their uproar of questions. He offered them a friendly smile as he gestured towards Winry.

"This is my automail mechanic, Winry Rockbell," he explained as said mechanic stood from her stool to shake Ed's friend's hands in greeting.

"Nice to meet you," Hermione said politely.

"It's good to meet you, too," Winry replied amiably. She stowed her wrench in her bag:

"Ok, you're good to go, Ed."

"Thanks Winry; I owe you one."

"Just don't go breaking it again!" she snapped harshly before swinging her bag over her shoulder, beginning towards the exit. "Now, where can I find some food here in this giant castle…?"

Upon her leave, Hermione and Ron turned back to Edward. No one spoke for a moment, and then Ron asked: "automail…?"

"Yeah," said Ed, lifting his arm to show them. "That's what this is called, they're steel prosthetics."

"But…" Hermione asked feebly. "How'd you get them?"

Ed's face fell slightly, a dark shadow passing over his expression. He gestured for them to go ahead and sit down, at which Harry swung his legs over his hospital bed and sat at the edge, facing Edward whilst he began his explanations. Ed found himself to be absolutely lost, though; this was not in any sense of the word a simple thing to talk about, to tell close friends about. The blonde looked up at his armored brother for help.

"Where do I start, Al?"

"…I don't know brother," the younger Elric said. "Maybe you should start off talking about how we started learning alchemy, or around there."

"…Right, I've got it," Edward said, but paused before starting his gruesome tale, looking at his little brother with pity. "…you can go follow Winry to the kitchens if you want, so you don't have to hear this again, Alphonse."

"I'm ok, brother; I lived it, I can hear about it."

Ed took a deep breath and looked his friends in their eyes as he began:

"I lied through my teeth when I told you that Al and I didn't learn alchemy. The is completely opposite from that; we spent years studying in order to master the science, first from the things we found in our father's old office, and then with an alchemy teacher. We didn't go with her until after our mom died, though…we didn't have a reason to until then. You see, the main reason we worked so hard to master alchemy was because…because…we wanted to bring our mom back to life."

He paused here, expecting one of the trio to comment upon his last statement; but he three of them were silent, looking expectantly at him to continue.

"We spent about three years after she died focusing on alchemy, on how to bring her back. We developed a recipe and method of transmutation and managed to get ahold of all the ingredients it took to make a human body. We were all set; the transmutation circle was accurate and the plan was flawless; we never had any doubts…but the night we performed the transmutation, something went wrong. The resurrection failed, and when it did I lost my leg…and Al lost his whole body."

Hermione's eyes widened in horror.

"W-what do you mean 'l-lost his body?'"

"I mean—well—let me explain it this way; in alchemy, there are a lot of laws regarding what you can and cannot do in a transmutation, and the most important law out of all is the Law of Equivalent Exchange. This states that 'Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return,' which means that if you want to transmute something, you have to first have enough to compensate for what you're creating. Which is why his Al's got taken; in order for us to create a human being…well, you get the point. And I guess Al by himself wasn't enough to recreate an adult, and that's why my leg was taken as well."

"Taken by what?" Ron questioned confusedly.

"…Truth. That's what happens to alchemists who step into God's domain, past the forbidden; they appear before an ethereal being that sits before The Gate of Alchemy, in something like another dimension, almost. I know this all sounds insane, but…this nightmare is completely true. I saw what lies beyond the Gate; I felt my leg be ripped away from me atop that human transmutation circle; the blood was as real as this automail is to you all…we were in Hell. The thing that we brought back didn't look like our mom at all…it was a monster, a monster that we accidentally created, and it died soon after."

At that point Ed was no longer addressing his friends but instead looking up at his suit of armor of a brother; now was the hard part to talk about, the part when Alphonse was damned.

"…Once that happened I was left alone in the room, crying for Alphonse. I took a minute to think of what I could do to bring him back, other than sacrifice myself…though I definitely considered that option, I knew that it wouldn't do any good. I knew what it felt like to be left alone; I would never put him in that awful place. So I came up with the idea of just bringing back his soul, and binding it to one of our father's old vintage armor. In order to bring back his soul, it took my arm."

All three of them looked confused now.

"What do you mean you could only get his soul?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," piped up Ron, "I mean, isn't he standing in front of us right now?"

Harry was silent, his own questioning silenced by the pained look upon Edward's face.

"…Come here, Al."

"'K," the boy said, walking around to the other side of his big brother's bed, where Hermione, Ron and Harry had gathered to hear the story. Knowing that Ed wanted him to do so before even being told, he sat down on the edge of the bed and removed his helmet. The trio let out a unison, equally shocked gasp.

"It's empty!" Harry said, breathless with horror. "It's…it's just his voice!"

"Pretty much," Al agreed, cradling his helmet within his leathery grasp. "I mean, I can move the suit around and stuff, and I can see out of it, obviously, but I can't feel anything."

"Nothing at all?" said Ron, to which Al shook his head, drawing forth a look of sad pity from the ginger. Hermione stood from her chair and hesitantly approached him. She peered into the dark cavern of his metal abdomen, looking both inquisitively and fearfully at Al's soul's seal.

"Is that how you…did it?" she asked Ed, her voice barely above a whisper. "With this symbol in here?"

"Yeah; that's what's binding his soul to the armor."

Hermione gulped: "It looks as though it's drawn with…with b-blood."

Ed nodded solemnly:

"It is. My blood."

"Oh god," she squeaked, her voice cracking as a few tears broke loose when she thought of the young Elric covered in the dark substance. Her bottom lip quivered with sorrow towards the boy's predicament, and she suddenly hugged Alphonse tightly, stretching her arms around his big metal body.

"I'm so sorry, Edward, Alphonse! How horrible of a thing to happen to someone!" she wailed as Al put his helmet back on. Ed sighed heavily, and then gingerly scooted to the edge of the bed, where Hermione and Al were and gently placed a hand upon her heaving shoulder.

"…Don't cry for us, Hermione."

"Yeah," Al agreed with his brother. "We deserved this for what we did."

"Who could blame you, though?" Ron said, shaking his head. "If I knew alchemy and my mum had died, I would've done the same thing, Ed."

"Same here," Harry spoke, knowing in his head that was the truth. He knew what it was like to lose a parent, even though he was only an infant to witness his parent's deaths. "And you can't blame yourself for what happened to Al, either, Ed—and don't deny it, because I know that's exactly how you are feeling."

"I wasn't going to deny that; it is my fault."

"Brother!" Al said in protest. "It's your fault I'm still here, you dummy!"

"Yeah, but if it weren't for my stupid idea of trying human transmutation, you wouldn't be stuck in that stupid suit or armor."

"Al's right, Ed!" Harry backed up the younger Elric. "It's not your fault."

Ed looked up at them in slight surprise; they weren't condemning him for his sins? They didn't blame him for losing Alphonse's body? They didn't think he was a monster? What…? Hermione sniffed, returning to her seat, her eyes slightly reddened due to her crying. Ron looked at him with the same pity Granny Pinako looked upon him with, the night Alphonse brought him, bleeding to death, over to her house. And Harry looked at him with the same fire Ed himself bore when he had decided to make things right, no matter what it took. They were all supporting him fully, all suspicions and distrust and even anger aimed towards him before converted to empathy and understanding. They finally got a glimpse of the real Edward Elric, and they did not hate him one bit.

"…I'm sorry I never told any of you this before," Ed said, moisture threatening to gather beneath his eyelids. "I was wrong; all of the arguing from this year could've been avoided if I had just told you all the truth from the beginning. I was wrong to do that to my friends, and I'm sorry."

Hermione smiled at him:

"Apology accepted a long time ago, Ed."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "It's been accepted, ever since you save all our lives down in the dungeons."

"That wasn't me, that was all of us working together," Ed pointed out. Ron shrugged:

"Same difference. It wouldn't have been the same without you."

"Voldemort probably would've killed me if you hadn't attacked him just in time, Ed," Harry informed the young alchemist. "Remember that."

"Yeah, I remember," Ed said, sticking his tongue out at the black-haired kid, not even bothering to mention the fact that he almost got killed in the process. Ron looked back at Ed's steel arm.

"So how does that work exactly? Is it robotic or something?"

"Not exactly," Ed said, laughing at the word 'robotic.' "It's wired up to my nerves so that my brain can still send signals to move it anyway I'd like, even though it's not a real arm. It works really well; I just can't feel anything with it, I've completely lost my sense of touch there and in my automail leg too."

"Well, that stinks," Ron remarked, urging another laugh from Ed's lips.

"Tell me about it!"

"And you both are alchemists?" Hermione inquired, to which Ed nodded. Harry cocked his head, looking toward Alphonse.

"Can you do that clapping thing, too, then," he asked, "like Ed does, whenever he wants to use alchemy?"

"Ooo, can you show us?" Ron asked excitedly. "Harry told us all about how you fought You-Know-Who with it, Ed; I wanna see you in action!"

Hermione opened her mouth to argue over Ron's lack of tact, but quickly decided against it, for she too was a curious kid that wished to see expert alchemy at work.

Al laughed:

"No, I can't do alchemy without a transmutation circle like Ed, are you kidding? He's the better alchemist here."

"Am not," Ed replied, crossing his arms at Al, who would've rolled his eyes if he could've. The blonde looked back at his friends and pondered the idea of a demonstration.

"I can, I guess," he said, shrugging. "Here, help me get off this damn bed, Al."

The younger Elric obliged, helping Ed stand. Once the alchemist was sure his legs would not fail him due to frailty, he loudly clapped his hands together and slammed them onto the linoleum floor. With a burst of lightning a tall statue appeared, neatly-carved and greatly resembling a taller version of Edward himself, complete with the antenna and everything. The trio before him ooooed, ahhed and clapped for the show, just as Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office and looked unhappily at the alchemist.

"You're not supposed to be out of bed, Elric!" she snapped, wrinkling her nose at the statue. "And don't transmute my floor."

"Yes ma'am," he replied, obviously trying hard not to laugh as he restored the tiles back to normal and crawled back onto his bed. Madam Pomfrey then switched her glare over to Ron, Harry, Al and Hermione.

"Just five more minutes, you three. Visiting hours are already long past over, you know…"

"That was amazing!" Ron exclaimed after the nurse had left their presence. Ed grinned at the compliment:

"Thanks, that was really nothing," he said. "So fill me in, how much have we missed?"

"Well," Hermione began, but was cut off by Ron—

"You missed the last Quidditch match; it was horrible! We were steamrolled by Ravenclaw because Harry was gone. Made me so mad!"

Ed rolled his eyes at Ron: "Is all you think about Quidditch-related?"

"Yes," Ron replied, crossing his arms defiantly. Hermione also rolled her eyes before she spoke:

"All of the House points are in, and Slytherin won, of course. The end of the year feast is tomorrow, and you must go, both of you. After all, you're all the school's been talking about for the past week."

Great…Ed thought. I can only imagine what kind of rumors they've all started.

"Plus the food will be good," Ron pitched in, immediately sparking Ed's interest.

"I'm in; I'll break out of here if I need to!"

"Brother," Al groaned. "You're going to end up hurting yourself all over again."

"Nonsense, Al; Pale-Face isn't here, and I can take care of myself, y'know!"

"Pale-face?" Hermione questioned, to which Harry answered:

"Voldemort was pretty pale from being under Quirrell's turban for so long."

"Ew."

"I know, right?" Ed agreed with the girl.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

"Aw come on," Ed protested. "That was not five minutes!"

"Doesn't matter, it's nearly nine, now OUT," she said firmly. "All of you, Weasley, Granger, Elric."

"Can't I stay with my brother?" Al said, and the tone of his voice actually managed to be enough to softened Madam Pomfrey's hard expression.

"Don't you want to go find someplace to sleep in one of the dorms, though?"

"I don't sleep, actually…" Al explained, to which Madam Pomfrey sighed and nodded once, allowing him to remain in the Hospital Wing with his brother for the night. "As for the rest of you, though, leave."

~~*e.s.*~~

Harry fell asleep before Edward did, softly snoring beneath his bed covers. Ed glanced in his direction, turning his head on his pillow. Alphonse was seated next to him on a stool, reading idly through Ed's alchemy book.

"…This really is an interesting view on all that we thought we already knew. I like it."

Ed nodded and smiled.

"It helped me understand how alchemy is connected to magic, which helped me get over my mental block at the beginning of the year. You can borrow it; I've read it at least four times now."

"We need to go back to that bookstore in Diagon Alley," Al piped up. "Which, I guess we will be going there sometime over the summer anyway, to get supplies for my first year and your second year."

He paused for a moment then, wondering silently over something. Even though he bore no facial expression, Ed could sense his little brother was troubled by something.

"What's up?"

Al looked at him:

"…How am I supposed to wear a school uniform?"

Ed stared at him for a minute, and then he busted up, finding the young boy's virtually unimportant issue to be hilarious.

"It's not funny!" Al protested.

"Yeah," Ed remarked, "which is why you're laughing, too!"

It was true; Alphonse himself couldn't keep from cracking up at his ridiculous concern. They quickly shut up when they saw Harry stir in his sleep, not wanting to awaken the exhausted boy.

"You should be asleep too, brother," Al whispered. "You need to rest your injuries."

"Yeah, but I can't sleep," Ed said, sitting up from the cushion of his pillow. "I've got way too much on my mind."

"Like what?"

Ed sighed, shaking his head.

"Well, first of all I'm relieved; you know how hard it was to keep that secret all year? I kept accidentally slipping up."

"Well, Professor Dumbledore did ask you to keep your alchemy a secret."

"Yeah, but still," said Ed, shrugging. "It would've been better for them to have known. It would've saved a lot of arguments."

Al also shrugged, quietly examining an intricately drawn alchemical arrangement upon the pages before him, one that he recognized from one of Hohenheim's books. Ed yawned hugely despite his insomniac claims. He couldn't go to sleep just yet, though; he had something else on his mind, something that he had to tell his little brother before he conked out.

"…Alphonse?"

Al looked up:

"Yes, brother?"

Ed took a deep breath.

"Don't get mad, but…I don't think I'm coming back to Hogwarts next year."

"What? Brother, you can't—"

"Yes I can," Ed interrupted his brother's protests. "There's still the option for me to join the military, after all, and let's face it, this school didn't help me at all in trying to get your body back."

"Dumbledore told you to wait and you'll learn how, you told me he said that!"

"He also told me something else, something else I want to look further into."

Al looked at him, listening carefully.

"He said that there are some incomplete Philosopher's Stones out there."

"Incomplete Stones?"

"Yeah…and apparently they work the same as the actual Stone did…so we may be able to use one of those to get your body back. Also, he pointed out that these Stones have been used in military combat before in order to increase the power of their State Alchemists. No doubt the Amestrian military has done that before, which means the State Alchemists have access to all sorts of information about the Stones. I would need to be part of the military in order to get ahold of one, which means I can't go to this school anymore."

"But…I was looking forward to going to Hogwarts with you, brother."

Ed bit his lip.

"I know, Al, I was too. But you're going to love this place with or without me, and my number one responsibility is to restore your body."

Al did not say anything in reply to this, just sat quietly, not even reading his book. Ed yawned once again, then sighed heavily.

"Please understand, Al. I have to make everything right."

"I think you're making a mistake, though, Ed!"

"I don't think I am."

"Then I'm coming with you—"

"NO," Ed suddenly exclaimed, then shut his mouth, glancing quickly over to make sure he had not awakened the sleeping Harry. "…no. I won't let you; you know you've been looking forward to this school ever since Dumbledore visited us at Granny Pinako's, Al. I'm not going to deny you this opportunity. You can always write to me, y'know, you'll have Nova. But I don't want you to give up your life."

Ed could tell through the suit of armor that Alphonse's invisible expression was crestfallen.

"…Ok. Whatever you say, brother."

Ed looked at his brother, knowing that he was only covering up how he really felt about his decision, though the younger Elric knew that there was nothing he could do to change Ed's mind. Ed scooted over as far as he could on the bed and then patted the empty space next to him. Al hesitated, wondering for a moment if the iron bed could handle the weight of a suit of armor plus two steel limbs, but ended up consenting anyway, sitting his big body next to his brother upon the bed. Ed leaned against his metal frame, his head tiredly rested upon Al's side. It was just like when they were little, for Ed could not see Al's armor, but instead looked up the soul within. His mind was playing tricks again, but instead of feeling hollow and forlorn towards the immaterial images, he embraced them, for he no longer knew whether or not he would have a moment like this with his baby brother again, especially if he was going to join the military. His entire life was officially uncharted when he made the decision to drop out of magic school, which is why he wanted Al to still go to the school even without him, just so he could have at least that much stability, the privilege of an education.

"Please," Ed begged in a hoarse whisper to his brother. "Don't be mad at me for this Al; everything I do…I do for you. You know that, right?"

Al nodded.

"I know, brother; you just risked your life for the Philosopher's Stone, to get our bodies back. I'm just a little disappointed that we can't go to school together, but not mad; not at all."

Ed's smile was interrupted by another yawn of exhaustion. He closed his eyes, his cheek pressed against Al's cool armor frame.

"I missed you, Al."

"I missed you too, Ed."

"Are you going to tell them? Harry, Ron and Hermione?"

"That I'm not coming back here next year?" Ed frowned, thinking carefully.

"Yeah, I'll have to. No more secrets from now on, remember? I'll tell them after the feast tomorrow…they'll be upset, but I think they'll understand."

"I'm sure they will, brother."

"Yeah."

And then silence. Ed's breathing slowed a bit, eventually unintentionally matching the legato tempo of Harry's. Al thought he was asleep for a second, but could tell he wasn't yet after catching him softly clenching his automail fist.

"Brother?"

Ed reopened his eyes, yawning slightly.

"Yeah, Alphonse?"

Al looked with pity upon his big brother's exhausted-looking face: "sorry, just…one last thing I want to say and then I'll leave you alone and let you sleep."

"Don't worry about me, Alphonse; you know you're not a bother."

Ed sat up and leaned back against his pile of feather pillows as Al spoke:

"You remember Christmas break, when I came up to the school to see you? Remember the conversation we had in your dormitory?"

A dark look crossed Ed's face and he silently nodded, urging Al to continue.

"Well, I have something to say that I should've said that night but I didn't…neither of us are free from blame, brother. You may say that it's all your fault that I'm like this now, but let's face it. In reality, I'm the one to blame."

"Al, no you're not."

"Yeah I am, because I didn't say anything or do anything to stop it. Tell me this: if I didn't want to help you try and figure out how to bring mom back, would you have still gone and done it without me?"

Ed opened his mouth to lie for his brother's sake…then closed it. If there was anything he had learned during his first year at Hogwarts, it was that you get into far less messes by sticking to the truth.

"No. I probably wouldn't have."

Al nodded, carefully crossing his legs atop Ed's bed so as to avoid hitting the injured Elric.

"But I didn't protest, because I wanted to see mom again more than anything else. I just wanted everything to go back to the way it was when she w-was alive…"

Ed looked at his little brother with pain in his eyes at the sound of his quivering voice, knowing that if poor little Alphonse still had his body he would probably be crying right now.

"…Dumbledore told me and Harry something that last night we both went to see the mirror, something that I think would've been good for us to hear before we tried to bring mom back."

"And what was that, brother?"

"That is does not do to dwell on dreams…"

Ed looked up at Al:

"…and forget to live."

~~*e.s.*~~