Warnings: No warnings for this chapter.

Beta-reader: Gift of the Dragons

"Abc!" - spoken words

"Abc!" - words spoken in the past

Abc! - thoughts

Recap Chapters 1-4:

The Elric brothers split up on their quest for information on how to regain their bodies. Following a lead to the Philosopher's Stone, Edward arrived at Hogsmeade. After a brief introduction on magic, he explored the Shrieking Shack and found an underground tunnel bypassing the wards of Hogwarts. There, Edward passed Dumbledore's 'trial', as neither he nor the Bloody Baron were able to detect any suspicious behaviour from the teen and was allowed to meet up with Eve, the Flamel's former house-elf, at their cottage on an island in Devon.

Chapter 5: A Vow For Life (words: 9915)

Edward smiled as he set down the last of the plates on the breakfast table. Eve had already brought in her basket of fruits and was just leaving in the direction of the kitchen again, probably to bring in the rest of the food. He chanced a glance at the table, noted the missing of the tableware and followed suit.

Ever since he had finished barricading himself in Flamel's study and started to have something that Al would have called a 'more healthy approach on the subject', Ed and Eve had come to even better terms. Instead of just serving him as if he was some kind of overly honourable guest, they now did most of the chores together. He cherished the companionship they shared. It had been a long journey to the kingdom and, no matter the excellent view of nature, climbing up the mountains towards Hogsmeade hadn't really held a lot of possibilities for conversations or friendships either.

During all of their conversations, Ed had been able to find out a lot more about the little house-elf he was living with. Eve had been born a really long time ago. She didn't know how old she was exactly herself, but age had apparently never meant that much to her anyways. House-elves lived a fair deal longer than the average human, but how long exactly, the books on magical creatures hadn't been able to tell. It always depended on how well they had been treated throughout their lives, if they had been punished a lot and in which ways. The dates he had found had thus varied from only a few days to several centuries.

With such a long life behind her, it had also become clear that she had spent decades, if not centuries with her deceased masters and, which was even more important to Ed, that they had treated her in exceptionally good ways. She had proudly shown him her own domain, a tidy room with a window, a small closet and a proper, elf-sized bed. She had been very joyful about the bed in particular. Eve had also taken out the old photographs of the times when Perenelle and Nicolas were still travelling around the world and that – more often than not – pictured either herself or one of her ancestors as well. She had told him of the time when she had gotten terribly sick. Perenelle had stayed patiently by her side the entire time, serving Eve instead of the other way 'round. The house-elf had been in tears while telling this particular part of the story.

"Mistress Perenelle had such a kind heart! She brought in the cool water and placed the wet towel carefully on my head the whole night long. Eve was ashamed, actually, for not being able to take care of herself and instead being a bother to her lovely masters! Because Master Nicolas, too! He was missing the ingredients for the potion that would have helped Eve and travelled to London in the middle of the night to wake up a shop clerk and buy the willow-root that he needed! Eve still can't believe that she caused her masters so many problems!"

Ed was really glad that Eve had accepted him as a friend instead of a superior and that they could now do the chores together. It had taken a while to explain to her, though, that he would in fact feel even more comfortable and at ease if he was allowed to lend her a hand here and there.

With a look at one of the strange not-quite-clocks that were strategically placed all around the house, the elf realised that her own arrow pointed straight to the phrase 'right on time' and stood on a chair to quickly cast a last look over the set table. Seemingly satisfied, she turned to look at Ed.

"Eve will make sure that Mister Elric doesn't have to wait too long," she said, gave a short bow and Apparated away.

Ed knew by now that he could count on her word, but it didn't seem too appealing to him to wait around standing. He made his way over to the chair he usually used and settled down to wait for the house-elf and the guest she would bring with her. An owl had knocked on the window of the living room the evening before, bringing a letter from Dumbledore that said he would like to drop by this very morning.

More like the poor thing was knocked at the window, though, Edward mused as he let his shoulders relax comfortably. His eyes wandered over to the window to his right. Outside, the storm was still raging. Small leaves of grass and colourful flower petals flew by in waves, swirled up and down and occasionally clinging to the glass before being tossed in the game again. The wind had picked up drastically after Dumbledore's last visit and had yet to die down to a bearable level once again. They hadn't been able to eat outside a single time ever since the storm had begun, even though the sun was brightly, tauntingly shining down onto Lundy Island.

The rocks at the bottom of the steep coast will be very slippery today with this much of spindrift, and the waves will no doubt reach remarkable heights as well. It wasn't as though Ed was actually worried, though. These were wizards, he reminded himself, and even if he didn't know how capable the old man was, this was where Eve lived. And she, he knew, was very capable.

Just as he thought this, a loud Plop! could be heard and he whipped his head away from the raging winds behind the window and towards the two soaking wet figures now standing in the room. Immediately, Eve set about, casting drying spells on the Headmaster. She was just about to open her mouth, probably to let loose a myriad of apologies, when Dumbledore beat her to it.

"Oh, don't worry too much about it, my dear Eve," he said smiling warmly down at her. "You couldn't have possibly known that I would Apparate right when the biggest wave was about to roll in."

"But," she started to protest, "if Eve had been a little earlier..."

"Then we would have both been caught right in the middle of it. Don't worry, I may be old, but I'm not made of glass." His soothing voice washed over her in gentle waves and word by word, the frown on her forehead ceased. "For now, I could really do with some food. It was long before dawn that I left for the east and the table over there looks especially delicious right now."

Together they joined Ed at the table who, in turn, nodded in greeting. The meal was held in companionable silence that neither visitor seemed to mind. The clinking and scraping of the plates and knives set a rhythm that was the same everywhere in the world. This, Edward mused, is one of the things that don't change wherever you go. He smiled.

"So, I've been thinking," Ed started at last. "About what we spoke about and which way to go from here." He wouldn't have needed to look up to see that he had gained the attention of the other two but did so anyways. After a short reassuring smile in Eve's direction, his eyes met the Headmaster's head on. "Professor, you said it wouldn't work because nobody would be able to assess my character accurately enough to make it specifically for me," he continued and watched on as he received a confirming nod as an answer. "So... what if I was the one to assess my character and make it? That should be possible, right?"

He kept his eyes firmly trained on Dumbledore's face. Eve had to be confused about what they were talking about, but right now he had to see his reaction. He had never told her exactly how far in his research he had come, having only ever given unspecific words that said everything and nothing at all. She probably hadn't even realized that he had yet to use a wand for a single time.

The wizards eyebrows shot up sceptically as he set down the knife he had still been holding and turned to properly face Ed. "It could be, indeed," he mused. "I hadn't actually ever thought about it, though, seeing as you mentioned having only a limited amount of time on your hands. The art you are talking about is one of the oldest... no, it actually is the oldest art known to us. Its complexity searches for a match." Dumbledore frowned in concentration. "I believe you may not need to understand and apply the whole complexity of the art just to create a single one, but I may be wrong. It's not even certain that you are going to succeed in this stage, yet even if you do there is still the obstacle of actually getting a reaction from it."

Ed, too, had stopped eating and instead mulled over the arguments. Yes, he had a limited amount of time. And yes, they didn't know for sure how strong the reformed connection between Al's soul and body was. But they had hoped it would last at least as long as the one before – which had been solid for five years. Surely creating a wooden stick and making it work wasn't going to require as much time? He frowned. With his luck, it just might. On the other hand... it wasn't like any other even slightly promising leads had decided to pop up out of nowhere.

"I'm still going to take my chances," he decided at last. "I won't find out if I don't even try."

"Uhm..." interrupted the high pitched voice of the neglected house-elf in their midst, "Eve wonders what it is that Mister Elric is planning to do. Maybe she could help!"

Big green eyes stared back at him unblinkingly and Ed couldn't help but smile. "Oh, sorry about that, Eve. I was thinking about learning wandlore since there is nobody back home who is versed in this art. But doing magic without wands is really hard, so..." He wasn't able to complete his sentence for her eyes already shone with delight.

"Oh that's a great idea! But," the elf added worriedly after a short pause, "Eve had thought that Mister Elric still had to do research on Master Flamel's alchemy notes to help his country."

"Actually... I've come to a bit of an impasse there. Your master used some very advanced theories and I believe that I'd be able to understand them better if I had a more profound understanding of the inner workings of magic. I figured learning about wandlore could help me with that."

Edward smiled reassuringly as her mouth formed a silent 'Oh!' in understanding and turned back to the man he had originally addressed. He could see the gears in the Headmaster's head turning as he thought about his plans. He didn't seem too enthusiastic, but so far he hadn't outright refused the idea either. Ed didn't know what spoke in his favour or against it, however, so he couldn't do anything else to convince Dumbledore. And so he sat, silently, waiting for the wizard to make his choice. Eve, too, was sitting very still in her seat and kept glancing between the two. In the end, though, the old wizard straightened and stood up from his seat. He placed it neatly against the table once more, before he turned to face Ed.

"In this case, Mr. Elric, there is something else I would like to speak to you about." He turned back to the house-elf. "Could you, Eve, maybe take care of the dishes while we discuss these matters?"

She nodded enthusiastically while Ed stood and made his way over to stand beside Dumbledore. Once there, he was led to a second bedroom a little further off. It resembled the one he had been residing in a lot, and from the confident way Dumbledore had led him here, he concluded that this must be where he had stayed whenever he had visited his old friend. Once inside, he closed the door with a soft click behind him and turned to the man standing near the window.

It was another minute before the Headmaster spoke.

"I will admit that your plan has its potential. In the end, not only may you have a fully functioning wand, but also enough knowledge to finish your research and apply your theories. In fact, it just might be the most promising way to go from where you currently are. In this aspect, I can't argue with you. There is another point, though, that you are forgetting about." He paused and used the break to take his eyes off the storm outside and fix them on the alchemist.

"You are a Muggle, Mister Elric, and a possibly dangerous one at that. No, don't even start. I know. You have already explained your reasoning. However, having you stay at Hogwarts, below my watch, or having you stay on a nearly vacated island with a single house-elf as companion is very different from what you plan on doing now. I had no qualms overlooking your nature and letting you live here.

"For learning wandlore, however, you'll have to move to a city, most likely to London. You'll be surrounded my wizards and magical creatures all the time. By our customs. Our culture. I won't say that it is impossible for you to adapt to our way of life. Nobody realized when you were in Hogsmeade, nor did Hagrid and Eve. But still, it's a great risk." His eyes narrowed. "We both know the kind of... additional knowledge you possess and you seemed to be as adamant about taking chances with that as I. You'd have to stay and live among us and keep it all to yourself. That you are a Muggle. That you are an Alchemist. That you know about the Stone. All of it. Always."

Not like I never had to keep the last part a secret anyways. Or the things that I am still keeping secret from him, Edward thought grimly and balled his right hand into a fist. Regardless, he took a moment to consider Dumbledore's concerns. Was he trustworthy with secrets?

He had succeeded in keeping his well-known identity a secret when he recovered from that goddamn metal-beam for half a year without too much trouble. He had also managed to keep the reason he was able to transmute without an array to himself, for the most part. Remarkably less successful were his attempts at concealing his automail, but that was due to fighting all the time. It wasn't exactly his fault that Scar or the Homunculi repeatedly tried to behead him, right? And it didn't seem like he would be doing any of that fighting any time soon. In fact, his plan rather sounded like even more books to read and things to learn.

As if he hadn't done enough of that during the last few weeks already.

"I've had to keep secrets in the past, so I'm used to those," he said, conviction evident in both, voice and posture. "I don't think this will handicap me too much."

Dumbledore still wasn't convinced. That, Edward could tell, by the furrowed brows, the crease on his forehead and the calculating gaze that was directed at him. What must it seem like to a practically ancient man when a mere teenager told him to 'trust him' because he had so much 'experience' with 'keeping possibly life-threatening secrets'? Ed didn't know. But maybe he would ask the old man one day.

"You are very sure of yourself, young man. And I don't know enough to decide whether your confidence is based on on real facts or on a mere overestimation of your skills. Both, probably, but which one outweighs the other?" Ed managed to keep his mouth shut and stop the indignant yells threatening to come out of it in time. He did, however, narrow his eyes and brace himself for the decision Dumbledore would come to.

"There is a way for me to be sure about this. I wouldn't have to worry about you spilling anything of what should better be kept secret and you would be able to go and learn wandlore as you please..."

Ed wasn't sure what to make of it. It sounded promising, al right. But the wizard was being too sketchy and unspecific. As if he had to approach a subject he'd rather not approach at all.

Seems pretty fishy, if you ask me. He didn't loosen his tense muscles and certainly didn't avert his eyes from the man across him. After it became clear that Dumbledore was obviously waiting for some kind of reaction from him, he asked: "What?"

"A spell, Mister Elric. The Unbreakable Vow. It is an oath on whatever the present parties decide. In this case, you would have to vow not to reveal your nature as a Muggle, your skills in alchemy or your knowledge on the Philosopher's Stone for as long as wizards are around you. You would also have to vow not to reveal the existence of magic and the Wizarding Community to outsiders."

That doesn't sound too bad, actually. But...

"What's the catch?"

Dumbledore seemed surprised. "The catch?" he echoed.

"The catch. You hesitated to bring this spell up, so there must be something. Otherwise you would have done so right at the beginning. You also continued to skirt around it even after you had already gotten the conversation in its direction. There has to be a catch."

You never gain something without giving something else in return. Especially not when what you gain is such a strong sense of security.

Dumbledore blinked. "That's right. Regardless of your intellect, you are still a Muggle. As such, every wizard is bound by law to Obliviate you should you ever get too much knowledge on the Wizarding World. As the Headmaster, I am the one in charge of Hogwarts and things that relate to it. I have a constant level of leeway with things concerning the castle. This cottage, well, it's closed off enough to not pose too much of distress..."

Ed tuned him out for a moment. Wasn't this exactly what he had told him around ten minutes ago? True to his thoughts, Dumbledore went on about how him living among them would change that drastically. Wonder where he's going with his story this time.

"We don't even know if you will succeed in your quest." (Nothing new here, either.) "I want you to agree to not resist Obliviation the next time we meet, should you ever encounter a true dead-end in your approach on magic."

Ed blinked in astonishment. Hadn't they settled this topic ages ago, in front of that terribly violent tree?

"Mister Elric, if you do encounter failure, then you will have to search for an entirely different method anyway. Your knowledge of magic would be of no use to you anymore and you could properly focus on the next lead. As for me," continued the headmaster, "I would breathe easier if I knew that your knowledge on the Stone was as far away from Voldemort as possible. I know that the chances of him returning are slim, but I'd rather not take any at all."

A frown had formed on Edwards forehead. He slowly made his way over to the only bed in the room and sat down warily. The words he had just heard were still running circles in his head.

'I want you to agree to not resist Obliviation the next time we meet, should you ever encounter a true dead-end in your approach on magic,' is what he said. I don't want to be Obliviated! Then again, I don't plan to rush into a dead-end either.

It didn't look like Dumbledore would concede to changing this condition, though. And he had a point; Ed could hardly argue there. The chances of an immortality-searching mass-murderer getting into contact with him should be minimized as much as possible. Alphonse would agree with that. And he truly wouldn't need knowledge on magic if it couldn't help him at all. It was just...

Obliviating means forgetting everything remotely related to magic. I wouldn't only forget about the existence of spells and charms, of Apparition and Transfiguration, I would forget about the people I met as well. About the pixies. Dumbledore. The ghost. About Eve.

He could see why the other had hesitated so much on bringing the subject up.

It took him a total of ten minutes to make up his mind on whether to agree on the condition or not. In the end, he breathed in deeply and gave a single, sharp nod in Dumbledore's direction. The shoulders below the silver robe sagged a little in relief and a smile formed across his face, but...

His eyes narrowed dangerously.

"What else?"

"Else?"

"Yes." He practically glowered at the old man. "You are still far too tense. There's more you are keeping from me. I may not be a wizard, but I am no fool either, so bring it on already."

"No, you definitely aren't." He smiled and composed himself anew. "There is still the matter of the 'unbreakable' nature of the vow. An Unbreakable Vow is not unbreakable because you cannot break it. We merely call it unbreakable because nobody in their right mind would consider breaking it. The aftermath would be too severe."

"So," Ed started anxiously, "what's this aftermath we are talking about exactly? You are being terribly vague once again."

"It's death."

A simple word. One syllable. Five letters.

But it held so much more meaning.

"Death?" echoed Ed disbelievingly.

"Yes, death. If an Unbreakable Vow is broken, the one who broke it will die. In addition, the only nature way for the Vow to end is if one of the participants dies."

He stared in wide eyed incredulity at the Headmaster.

He's got to be kidding me!

It was only after a very deep breath that he felt calm enough to continue asking. "What if the vow was broken unintentionally?"

Dumbledore looked taken aback. "How so?"

"What if I accidentally do something that no wizard would do and somebody realizes that I'm non-magical? What if, for example, someone wants me to sit on a broomstick and the broom doesn't react to me in any way? Or if there is another ghost that I can't see and someone realizes that? What if they want to show me your newspaper and realize it's just the London Times to me rather than your Daily Prophet? What if I try to convince them otherwise but don't succeed? Would I die just because I'm too bad at coming up with believable excuses?!"

His voice had risen considerably towards the end but he didn't care. Because he couldn't die. Not then, not there and most certainly not because of a reason as stupid as any of the mentioned examples...

"Of course not!" To Edwards eternal relief, the old wizard seemed positively scandalized. "This only applies to you confiding your secrets to somebody else. It also applies, though, should you ever pretend talking to thin air even though you know there is a high probability that you would be overheard. Letters and doodles, however, are usually included as well. That is in case somebody somehow gets the urge to use other means apart from words to tell people about it."

There is still a lot to think about...

"What about being unspecific? Can I... oh I don't know!" He tore slightly on his hair in aggravation. Who came up with the idea of binding someone to their word by an invisible string that would kill them if they accidentally made a mistake? Ed hoped the person was still alive so that he could at least give them a piece of his mind one day. "Can I tell my brother that I'm learning some theories on the flow of energies in a city called London? I wouldn't be mentioning magic, but if I didn't research on energies, he would certainly get worried. Because that's exactly what I came here for."

"I do believe that this would be unspecific enough. You may want to keep things on this level, though, Mister Elric."

"I certainly wasn't planning on taking any chances with that one, I can assure you of that!" he ground out through gritted teeth. There. He had snapped. Again. Hadn't he thought to be over that? Hadn't he promised Al to always be polite to his elders? To show them respect?

Guess I'm not as good with keeping the promises I make as I thought I was.

He sighed. "This will be a lot harder than I originally thought."

Edward didn't get a reply. He was facing the wooden wall in front of him and couldn't see the wizard standing to his left, still near the window. But he knew he was being watched anyway. Dumbledore wanted his answer. Was he willing to agree to all of that? He didn't see any problems with the first few requests. He had meant to keep those secret anyways. It came as a surprise that the other wanted him to vow on them but that first part was alright. He'd have done the same, really, if he had the chance. Wait a second... 'the same'...?

"Say, Professor..." He was feeling positively wicked right now. A mischievous grin threatened to spread across his face but he forced it down. With a lot of effort, he only raised his eyebrows in a curious way.

"Yes?"

"This vow. It will be between the both of us, right?"

"Yes. Nobody else will know about it or be included."

"Then this means I can set up conditions as well. Right?"

Ed looked at the wizard and knew he had hit jackpot when he saw the bespectacled eyes widen. He smirked.

Equivalent exchange can be such a bitch!

"I believe I should have known," admitted Dumbledore after a moment of recomposing himself. "You did warn me to not be a fool and yet, I underestimated you again. As for your question: yes, you are indeed allowed to set up your own conditions."

And Ed knew exactly what he wanted.

"You would have to vow not to reveal my nature as a Muggle, my skills in alchemy or what I told you about the Philosopher's Stone, as well as that I have knowledge about it. You would also have to vow not to reveal the true nature of alchemy to the Wizarding Community," he practically reworded what Dumbledore had demanded earlier. "In addition, you will only ever Obliviate me if I, myself, am unable to come up with a plan of action. It will not qualify as a dead-end if only you are the one who thinks this way. I will be allowed to reveal my non-magical nature and the concepts of alchemy if I consider a situation as life-threatening. I'd rather get my mind messed up for being a Muggle than die by being killed in that situation, or by breaking the vow when trying to get out of it. This exception, obviously, will not apply to anything concerning the Stone."

Dumbledore had listened carefully and calmly during his speech. At the end, though, his bushy eyebrows rose to meet with the rest of his grey hair. "You think you'll find yourself in a life-threatening situation?"

Edward shrugged from his position on the bed. "No," he conceded. "But you don't think that Voldemort may actually come back to power either and yet you are forcing me to vow on all of this. I thus believe that we can agree on it never hurting to be rather safe than sorry."

"Indeed, it doesn't. Or if it ever did; my memories are failing me." He smiled. "I believe we've come to an agreement, then?"

"...We have." And it appeared they, in fact, had. Ed had let the conditions play along in his head, turning them over to look from as many perspectives as possible. It wasn't what he had in mind when he had asked about an apprenticeship in wandlore earlier. Never in his right mind would he have guessed! But the request made sense and he had managed to squeeze in as many loopholes as he dared. He could still tell his brother where he was and what he was doing. Dumbledore was going to keep silent about him and the Stone. He could claim alchemy to be magic in normal situations and wouldn't exactly 'reveal' its non-magical nature. And if anyone was skilled in coming up with new directions after reaching a supposed dead-end, it was him.

Nodding once again to reassure himself that this was indeed the right thing to do and not some sort of crazy pact with the devil, he stood and faced Dumbledore.

"How is it done?"

"We will take each other's hand and I'll start the spell with my wand. We will then each voice the oaths in turns and the magic will bind us to them and each other. It will tingle a little where the magic touches your skin in the form of a flame and you may feel shocks of energy rushing through you. Other than that, though, you should be fine."

At least there seem to be no more unpleasant surprises.

He took of his left glove and held the hand out for Dumbledore to take. At the confused look he received, he merely tilted his head a little. "Well, you'll obviously need your right arm to hold the wand and cast the spell. If it's only important to hold hands, then the left should be fine as well."

"Of course." (1)

The feeling had been just like the wizard had described, but he had understated the beauty of the flame. As an added bonus, it hadn't been painful at all. With a sigh, Ed let go off the old, wrinkled hand holding his own and felt the tension roll off of his shoulders in giant waves. By the time he had put on his glove again, Dumbledore had already reached the door and held it open for him to follow through.

Eve was standing anxiously near the spotless table they had vacated earlier, wringing her tiny hands when they entered. With a start, Ed wondered just how much time they had spent discussing in the guest room. As the clock on the wall was still pointing at words rather than actual numbers, there was no way for him to know. He smiled reassuringly as his his eyes met the worried ones of his friend.

"So..." Eve started. "What will happen now?" It appeared that she wasn't quite sure which one of them to ask. She had looked at Ed in the beginning, then switched her focus to Dumbledore for a few moments before continuing to go back and forth between both of them. In the end, it was Dumbledore who answered first.

"Now, my dear Eve, we will go to London. I don't think there is any better place to ask for an apprenticeship than Ollivander's, so Mister Elric will have to apply there."

Ollivander? Ed thought hard, for he had the feeling to have heard that name before. That was... Mister Lane! His grandson wasn't old enough to 'get a proper wand from Ollivander' yet, as he was still younger than eleven. He grinned at the realization. Seems like I'll be meeting a well known personality, then.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Eve was all smiles again. "London is a very nice city! I'm sure Mister Elric will love Diagon Alley. Eve hasn't been there for a long time. It's no good for a house-elf like her to go there on her own. But Mister Elric will have a lot of fun. She wishes him a great time!"

Ed blinked. She hadn't been there in a long time because she couldn't go there on her own? Didn't this mean that the last time she visited London was sometime before her late masters had passed? He took a closer look. Eve wore a bright smile on her face, seemingly happy that he would be visiting the geometrical alley. Then why is she shuffling her feet like that? And why is she grabbing her dress so tightly? And why does it seem like her smile is forced, even if just a little?

He turned to the Headmaster. "Professor Dumbledore?"

"What is it?"

"Would it cause too many problems if Eve came with us?

"No," he said slowly, realizing what Edward was up to. Smiling, he continued. "In fact, I do believe it would be a great help if she was the one to Apparate us to the Leaky Cauldron, as she can bypass this cottage's wards easily."

"But wouldn't it cause too many problems if Eve was around?" The elf still wasn't convinced. Ed and Dumbledore, however, just kept on looking at her with slightly amused smiles still fixed on their faces. A few moments later, the message had sunk into the house-elf's brain and her eyes widened.

"Okay! Then Eve will hurry and change into something more appropriate!" She smiled excitedly, small tears of joy and gratitude forming in the corners of her eyes, and hurried towards her room.

Something more appropriate? Ed couldn't help but wonder. The elf had been wearing a light orange dress decorated by patterns of sunflowers. Despite her size and her age, or maybe just because of that, the dress underlined her caring and cheerful nature perfectly. Nothing about it seemed to be in need of changing. And nothing his mind would come up with managed to be more suitable for a trip downtown either.

Eve came back a mere two minutes later, tiny feet rapidly tapping on the wooden floor as she hurried back to minimize their waiting time. The door opened and she carefully let it fall back into place with nothing more than a soft snick. She was smiling as she always did, eyes still as bright with excitement as when she left. Yet, she looked like she had aged even more. Instead of the softly flowing fabric of her dress, she was now wearing a simple cotton rag. Instead of the warm yellow and orange colours, a washed out grey with visible stains had taken their place. The style reminded him eerily of Bane's and the picture that had formed after his first lecture on house-elves came back to him.

Before Eve or even Dumbledore could utter a single word and before even Ed had made the conscious decision to speak up, he had already spoken.

"Why would this be more appropriate?"

He hadn't managed to keep the incredulity out of his voice and stared wide eyed at the sight before him. Eve shuffled with her feet and the excitement made place for concern, tears slowly building in her eyes yet again, which she tried to shield by looking at the floor. This time, they weren't of joy, but Edward didn't even notice her discomfort. She's wearing rags, was the only thing replaying in his head over and over again. Like a broken record. This was so unlike the lively elf he had come to know and befriend that it wasn't possible for him to properly wrap his mind around what he saw before him.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Dumbledore decided to ease the tension.

"Eve was freed when Nicolas and Perenelle died," he started. "She is as free of a creature as any of us, can make her own decisions and generally do whatever she wants. She reached a very uncommon age for her kind, seeing as my old friend and his wife treated her especially well. If she was to go to London as she was, in her bright and lively summer dress, other house-elves would frown down upon her. They would think that she was free because one of her late masters was so unhappy with her work that they kicked her out by giving clothing to her. They would think that she is only as old because she has never had to truly work and that she abandoned her masters. Maybe even that she had gone so far as to steal the dress."

He sighed tiredly and shook his head as if to clear it from unpleasant memories. After a moment, he continued.

"For most house-elves it is an honour to serve their masters. Eve knows that she served hers well and long and to their full satisfaction. That's why she could accept their decision to give her these dresses as a sign of gratitude, by their last will. That's why she is still living on this island and in this cottage. Because she loved them dearly. But the others wouldn't know. They would only take in her appearance and judge her on this first impression. What they can see is real for them. It's their truth. They won't try to look deeper, won't try to see what is behind the curtain."

He had to admit, Dumbledore had a point there.

How often had people thought he wasn't capable enough to be a State Alchemist, just because he was still a teenager?
How often had people mistaken him to be the younger of the Elric brothers, just because he wasn't … as tall as Al's armour?
How often had people called out to him as if he was a girl, just because he liked to wear his hair in a braid?

And he was the same, wasn't he?

His first impression of Tucker had been that of a pressured, yet nonetheless loving father. He hadn't looked behind the façade until it was too late.
He had believed they had actually succeeded in resurrecting their mother for that short amount of time, until his father had sown the seeds of doubt, and he had taken a closer look.
He had believed that the Colonel had killed off Maria Ross and only stopped when he had the living proof right in front of his eyes. He was meant to believe it, yes, but that didn't change the fact that he hadn't tried to look deeper.

I'm not really in a position to talk...

"I guess you are right," Edward said at last and sighed. He turned back to look at Eve. She had calmed down considerably during Dumbledore's explanation and especially when he had mentioned how much her masters must have cherished her.

With a last 'sniff', she swiped away any remaining tears and held her hands out for them to take.

The landing went a lot more smoothly now that Ed knew what to expect. The twist in his stomach was still uncomfortable and his sense of balance was terribly off, but he only needed a couple of moments to regain the control over his body. He rubbed his free hand over his eyes, and upon properly opening them, he found that they were standing in a slightly run down and overall shabby looking pub. Very few people were sitting at the tables set across the room, taking a small late breakfast. With a frown, Edward noted that they were mostly sitting alone or in groups of maximum two. They were wearing the weirdest kind of clothing, too.

Well, at least it's a different kind of weird this time, thought Edward. Because contrary to the Aarons, Mr. Lane, Dumbledore and an elderly woman sitting at one of the corner tables, those seated weren't wearing the pointy-hat-and-bathrobe-style. Had he not spent a few weeks in this country before arriving in Hogsmeade, he may have thought this to be just another foreign style like all the others he had met on his travel. As it was, however, he knew what 'normal' people in this country looked like – and they certainly didn't look like they were two sizes too small for their own clothes. In fact, they even seemed to prefer to wear clothes that fit too tight. They also never matched formal wear with sandals, he noted as his eyes landed on a relatively young man.

He figured that, whatever the reason for their strange appearances, they must be wizards too. As it had been Eve who Apparated them, the characteristic Plop! hadn't received any particular attention. Edward had only seen a single one glance their way, sweep her eyes over their small group and have them land on Dumbledore for a moment. The brows had shot up and a small smile formed before she had nodded in greeting and went back to the newspaper in front of her.

"Mr. Elric!" The voice piped up from somewhere on his right and he turned to see that Dumbledore and Eve had already walked a couple of steps towards a nearby table. Hurrying after them, he sat down in a chair as well and looked questionably at the old man. Before he could ask, however, the bald barkeeper came by to take their orders, butterbeer worth four silvery coins paid by Dumbledore, and was gone again too soon for Ed to ask why anyone would get the idea of putting butter into beer. Or why they would only order two of them when they were obviously three. Surely the old man could still count that far? However, the conversation didn't start until after their orders were placed neatly before them by an invisible hand (Levitation, his mind supplied) and Dumbledore had taken his first sip.

"I figured that it would be best if I spoke to Mr. Ollivander first. Without you," started the wizard, immediately regaining Ed's attention. "He hasn't taken in any apprentices in years. As a matter of fact, I even believe that he has only ever accepted a single one, some decades ago. Unfortunately, this means that your chances are very slim. We are old friends, Ollivander and I, so I'll try to have him at least accept talking to you. That is all I can offer, though. It is you who will have to convince him that you are worth his efforts and time." He smiled apologetically and took another sip to show that he had finished talking.

That's... exactly what he did with Eve when I first arrived. Nice to know that I get at least a heads-up this time around.

"Sounds good to me," was all that Ed said before looking over at Eve. She had gotten nothing but a glass of water, but she didn't seem to mind. Her back was straight as she stretched it enough to look over the tabletop, feet lively swinging back and forth below the table, rag as dirty as when they had left. Forcing down his frown, he concentrated on the drink he had been treated to and carefully lifted the warm liquid towards his mouth. It didn't look white, so that was good, and it certainly didn't taste like milk either. Other than that, though, he found nothing special about it. Especially since the drink had been served warm.

Who serves warm drinks on a summer day? He was feeling hot enough in the warm room, seeing as he was wearing a long sleeved, albeit thin, jacket and his standard pair of gloves. It was the end of July, with August just around the corner, and he certainly didn't need to feel warm on the inside as well.

Dumbledore must have observed him to see his reaction and chuckled slightly, eyes twinkling with merry mischief even when he rose his own glass again. No doubt, Ed thought, eyes narrowing slightly, that there is a cold version of this drink. He's just having too much fun messing with me.

As soon as the headmaster had finished his glass, he stood once again to full height. Smiling down towards them, he excused himself and left the room through a door at the end of the room. To talk to the wandmaster, or so he had said.

"Mr. Elric?"

He turned back to face her. "What is it, Eve?"

"It's because of Eve's size that Mr. Dumbledore couldn't order a butterbeer for her as well," she explained. "House-elves are a lot smaller than humans, so the ingredients have stronger effects on them. Eve wouldn't have accepted the drink even if it had been offered to her. She doesn't want to get addicted."

"Oh!" He was very relieved to hear that. "So it had nothing to do with your status?"

And while I'm at it... just when has she become so perceptive?

"Well, that is a point, too. It would be strange if Eve was so drink the same as the one whom bystanders would be thinking of being her Master. In this case, though, I believe the ingredients are the main reason for the Professor's decision."

Ed was just about to reply in pleasant relief when one part of the sentence struck him. 'Master'?

"You... are not going to start calling me Master as long as we are in London, though, are you?"

The elf fidgeted uncomfortable in her seat. For someone so old, she surely was self-conscious.

"Not if Eve can help it. Master Nicolas and Mistress Perenelle were the ones she served. In this place, though, it is sometimes better to keep up appearances to avoid getting into trouble. Eve would rather call Mister Elric 'Master Elric' instead of getting into trouble. That is, of course, only if he doesn't mind!" she added quickly.

"Uhm..." he was feeling rather uncomfortable with this whole situation. No, scratch that. Very uncomfortable. He didn't think of Eve as a servant. He didn't think of himself as her Master. They were friends. They had lived together for more than a month, gotten closer and closer and he had finally managed to convince her to let him help with the chores. He did not want to go back to being served all day long. On the other hand, though, she had a point. A valid one. He didn't want her to get into trouble and he especially didn't want to be the reason for it.

In the end, he gave her permission and added: "But please don't do it when we are alone."

They continued to chat away while waiting for Dumbledore's return. Eve explained that the reason most of the others had such a terrible sense of clothing was because they didn't know better. Apparently, the Leaky Cauldron served as a gateway between magical and non-magical London. Makes sense to have a gateway of sorts if you want to stay separated, Ed thought, but they could work with their observation skills a little. He glanced disapprovingly at a middle aged woman that had just entered from the door opposite of the one Dumbledore had disappeared through. She was wearing an overly old fashioned haircloth, thread coming loose at the edges due to its age, the colours terribly clashing with the handbag she was carrying.

Observing the magical folk out of the corners of his eyes had become quite interesting for Edward, though he made sure to never loose track of the conversation about Eve's previous visits with her masters that was still going on. The newspaper with the moving pictures he had first seen in the Great Hall of Hogwarts seemed to be very popular with them. Out of the eleven guests currently drinking and eating in the dining area, nine had a newspaper before them, or folded neatly right next to their plates. The only two without a paper were Ed and Eve themselves and he couldn't help but wonder if the lack of it made them stick out or if nobody even cared.

So, wizards liked to be up to date, he concluded. But they also seemed to be exceptionally lazy. He had known that they liked to travel in ways that took less effort than normal walking, but that they didn't even stir their cups by hand? He shook his head slightly, then stopped as he realized that Eve would think it was directed at her and their conversation.

Edward watched on as the fireplace near the staircase roared to life and the flames inside turned, of all things, green. It whooshed once and a middle aged man with remarkably decent clothing stepped out of it. He was followed by a few other persons stumbling through (Probably his family...), with each arrival accompanied by another swoosh of green flames. They patted their clothes to get as much soot off as possible, coughed a little and greeted the barkeeper who was idly waving his wand to wash dirty glasses behind the counter. Just like Dumbledore before them, they left through the door in the back.

"We couldn't use the Floo even though the cottage has a fireplace," interrupted Eve's voice his thoughts. Ed hadn't even realized that she had stopped talking, so transfixed had he been on the fire. It hadn't burnt any of those stepping through and he was certain that there was a solid wall behind the flames. They hadn't Apparated, that much he knew from the lack of accompanying sound resounding in the room, but transportation via fire?

That's something I can never talk about back home. Mustang would have the time of his life, claiming I've finally gone mental. He paused at this, considering. Maybe I have?

He turned to look at Eve expectantly. She would know.

"Master Nicolas never connected the cottage to the Floo network. It wouldn't make sense to have all the wards to secure the place and then let everyone enter freely this way. Master and Mistress weren't very fond of that method of travel anyway, because it's harder to keep your balance the older you get. Not to mention that the soot nearly ruined one of Mistress Perenelle's robes. It was her favourite, too."

Well, Ed thought, at least I know that, if I'm mental, I'm not the only one.

Just then, the door in the back opened and Dumbledore rushed back inside.

Why would he be in such a hurry? It had to be serious for he lacked the general twinkling of his eyes. His strides were long and full of purpose and... not aimed in their direction. Ed's eyebrows rose. He and Eve watched on in growing confusion as Dumbledore went to the barkeeper, spoke to him for about three minutes and only then made his way to their table.

"I've come with good and bad news. Which one do you want to hear first?" he asked but didn't bother to sit down.

"The good," Ed decided. Hearing the good news first made it easier to bear with the bad ones coming right afterwards.

Probably.

"I was able to convince Ollivander of at least meeting you. He doesn't seem to be eager to get an apprentice, especially with all the students for the new term dropping by these days, but he's willing to hear you out."

"Okay. So... what about the bad news, then?" Because he had expected the bad news to be that he wouldn't even get the chance to talk to him. Now that this wasn't the case, Edward had no idea what he could mean by 'bad''.

"We can't go and meet him today. I just received an owl when I was inside his shop and I have to return to the school immediately. I'm very sorry for this inconvenience, but the matter is an urgent one which I cannot postpone. I also don't know when I can drop by again to accompany you, but I'll definitely owl you once I do." He sighed. "I have made arrangements with Tom, though, that you can stay in the Leaky Cauldron for a week. I thought like that, you would be able to get used to what life and culture are like in London. This is your room key, by the way." He stopped talking and raised his left hand to reveal a very old key with an attached plate bearing the number 23 and handed it to Ed.

"But..." Eve's low voice started, "this means that Eve won't be able to see Mister Elric as much." The sadness was palpable and made Ed look at her in wonder. "Eve was very happy to have Mister Elric around. She will miss him a lot."

"Oh, my dear Eve," said Dumbledore and gently laid his hand on her back. "This is not a goodbye, but merely a see-you-later. Mister Elric is new to living in a city of this size. I'm sure he would like to have a guide."

Ed was relieved to note that the twinkle had returned to the headmaster's eyes and smiled reassuringly down at the unsettled elf. "I'd really love to have someone show me around. Would you mind?"

There, Ed thought. Now she's all smiles again.

"Of course, Eve would just love to!" She practically beamed.

"Then I suggest that you go and retrieve Mister Elric's belongings so that he can properly move into his room before you go and take a walk in Diagon Alley."

"Eve will do so immediately!" And before Ed could protest, she had already Disapparated back. It had seemed like she really wanted to make herself useful and go and get his stuff, but that was just it. It was his stuff and he was supposed to get it. He hadn't exactly thought to be moving out, so his room was in a state that he liked to call 'organized chaos'. 'Organized chaos', obviously, meant that everything was either lying on the ground or carelessly thrown on chairs. He had made sure to tell Eve not to go into his room to tidy up, that he wanted his 'privacy' and would take care of everything himself. While he knew where everything was and how it would fit inside his trunk, Eve didn't.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Well, Mister Elric. I suppose I should really be going now. It was nice talking to you," he said and was about to vanish as well when Ed was struck by a thought.

"Wait!" he called out and indeed managed to halt the other's intentions in time. "I was wondering, Professor. I can't be living here for an unspecific amount of time without any money and I most certainly can't be living here on your or anyone else's money. Where I come from it's common to pay an apprentice a minimum wage for the little work they do. Is it the same in the Wizarding Community?"

He looked at the blue eyes hopefully. They blinked. Then blinked again before the bushy grey eyebrows scrunched in concentration. Not good...

"It is indeed common to pay a minimum wage of Galleons to apprentices. However, it's usually not enough to live off on, especially if your residence would be the inn we are in right now. For now, a proper breakfast and a small dinner are included on the room you have for this week. After that... I'll think about a way. Now, however, I really must hurry."

He gave a small nod and Disapparated as silently as he had done the first time they arrived on the shores of Lundy Island. Not even a minute later, Ed had emptied his glass of butterbeer by now, Eve reappeared with her standard Plop! with his trunk in her tiny hands. It was taller than her and certainly a lot broader. He was glad when she didn't comment on the state of his room, just smiled up at him and waited until he had stood. Once he did, she started to make her way over to the rather decent looking, wooden staircase, dragging the trunk behind her.

If I go and take it myself, she'll loose face in front of the other guests. However, not doing anything is out of the question as well. There had to be a way for her to not have that much work and still seem like a well and true house-elf. The idea hit him when another pair of Scotch glasses flew by to a newly occupied table.

"Hey, Eve!" he called out to her. "Why don't you just levitate my trunk upstairs? You can do that, right?"

She turned to look at him, big, green eyes blinking owlishly for a moment. Then a smile spread across her face. "Of course!" she said, snapped her fingers and followed the floating luggage up the stairs. Ed followed suit, easily taking the stairs with a joyful spring in his steps.

Room number 23 wasn't very big, but what it lacked in size, it made up by quality. After the shabby interior downstairs, Ed hadn't really expected much. His eyes, however, were met with polished oak wherever they looked. On the left wall, a bed was standing in the middle of the room, a dresser to its left, near the entrance, and a desk to its right. Across from it, there was a door that led to a neatly furnished bathroom. Opposite the door Ed had just entered the room by, a big window had been set into the wall and even though he couldn't know for sure, he suspected that the pole in front of it was meant for the owls that commonly served as pets. The curtains, however, could have done with a change.

Shouldn't be too much trouble considering what magic can do. Then again, 'magic' apparently hadn't been able to help the dining area either.

All in all, though, Ed supposed it looked good. Turning back from the window, he saw that Eve had already set his trunk on the floor between the bed and the dresser and was waiting for him.

"Well," he said joyfully, "it looks rather comfortable in here. But I'd really like to go outside and wander around the streets a little." He smiled. "Would you mind joining me?"

"Not at all!"

She really is excited about our trip, he thought fondly as he followed her and closed the door behind him..

Then again, the same worked for him.

Because two floors downstairs, a whole new world was awaiting him.

Author's Notes:

Uhm... I'm wondering if I should go and hide in a corner for skipping my last deadline. Some of you got the earlier hint to keep on bugging me. (You need to do that more, really. I work best under pressure and I'm serious about that request.) I'm just not sure if the rest will be as lenient.

Well, I hope you had fun reading! The second part of this should be out pretty soon, I think. In other words, that means latest in two weeks. It was planned as one chapter, so the script on the contents is all ready, I just have to finish typing it out, and then Gift of The Dragons will need time to beta-read.

Also, I've recently found out that my parents mostly skip descriptions in books because they find them to be too boring. But I love them! So I was wondering what your opinion was on the matter. Was there a particular description that you could have done without in this chapter? Another that you would have like to have and that I didn't put in? I'm curious.

And a guest called 'Sandsilk' pointed something out and I wanted to make sure everyone knew:

I never actually realized there was this big of a difference between the words magician and wizard! A wizard is someone who uses magic, so I took magician as a synonym in the earlier (now corrected) chapters, to avoid repeating the term 'wizard' too much. I never even got the idea that I might be insulting someone inside JKR's works by doing that! (I seriously never knew she stuck to one term, as I don't even own a single edition of her works in English.) And since I personally respect illusionists/tricksters just as much as 'wizards', it certainly wasn't my intention to insult anyone, either.

Also, if anyone else wondered about why the guys from Hogsmeade and Dumbledore thought Ed was a werewolf, I've added the respective explanation at the end of chapter 2.1.

(Number)-Time:

(1) The Unbreakable Vow

I just thought I'd mention it again at this point in case any of you have forgotten about the end of chapter 3, where the Baron suggested the Unbreakable Vow. (As it's been quite some time since then.) Dumbledore is not performing a real spell here, he's just making Ed believe that he is. Thus, obviously, it 'works' differently. The real vow is one-sided with a third person casting the spell on the linked right hands.

Thanks for reading once again and please consider to leave a review!

See you, hopefully, in the next chapter:

Chapter 6: London