Maes' mind was reeling. There's no way he heard that right. Somehow, these two boys had traveled through time from a destroyed magical country he had never heard of?

"Why have none of us ever heard of Amestris?" He asked the question that had to have been on everyone's minds.

"It was the first of its kind. An experiment, if you will, for magical society. After it failed so spectacularly that it brought danger to the whole of the eastern hemisphere, all traces of the country were expunged from the record, and the few survivors who made it out had their memories wiped." Albus replied. "The whole thing was one of the worst magical disasters in all of history."

Maes frowned and then looked back at the suit of armor on the bed. "That's all well and good," he said slowly, wondering how to phrase the next question. "But it doesn't explain how these kids came to be in such a… predicament." For Maes had heard the suit of armor speak and was now absolutely sure that it was somehow being inhabited by a little boy, and he wanted to know how that was possible.

"Ah," Dumbledore said softly. "Yes. Now that is a different story entirely. However, it is not my story to tell. How they have ended up so far outside of their own timeline, I can only guess at. I would assume that there was some very powerful alchemy involved," he looked at the suit of armor, who nodded sheepishly. How a suit of armor could look sheepish, Maes had no idea, but it clearly did, somehow.

"Alchemy can be extremely powerful. However, it is one of the more… finicky branches of magic. One of the reasons why it has not previously been taught at Hogwarts," Albus explained. "I think that should be sufficient, for now. I will let these boys open up to us about specifics as they see fit. I think we have pried into their lives quite enough for one day, and I am quite satisfied that there is no immediate danger to us or to either of them and nothing that can immediately be done about their predicament." He said the last sentence softly and compassion bled from his voice.

The suit of armor behind him sagged.

Maes found his gaze travelling between the two kids. One who had lost two limbs, and one who was a suit of armor. He had heard of alchemy, and just as the professor had said, had heard about both its immense power, and its unpredictability and the potential for things to go wrong.

But he had never imagined this.

"Wh…" the suit of armor had started talking again but seemed to be having trouble getting the words out. "What's going to happen to us now?"

Dumbledore let out a soft, contemplative hum. "That depends," he said. "I am sorry to say that I have, at present, very little idea of how to send you back to your own time.

"However," he continued quickly as the boy in the armor let out a strained cry, "I will continue to work on the problem, with the assistance of my colleagues, should they wish to help," he gestured around, and Maes found himself nodding at once. Of course he would help.

"In the meantime, I may have an idea," he said. "How old are the two of you?"

"Ed's 11. I'm 10," the boy answered.

Dumbledore nodded. "We are currently in the middle of the term, but I see no reason why Ed couldn't attend lessons with the rest of the first years, and if we do not figure out how to send you back by next year, then you can start next year."

"Professor," that was Roy's sharp voice. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

Dumbledore turned to him calmly. "We can discuss it further at a later time," he said. "But unless you have a better idea, I think we can make it work."

The boy in the armor, however, was shaking his head. "I agree with Professor Mustang," he said. "We don't know anything about magic… where we come from, alchemy isn't considered magic at all. Who's to say we would even be able to perform magic like you, and Ed certainly would be lost if he began the classes in the middle of the term."

Maes frowned. The boy had made some really good points. And to think, he was only ten years old. Dumbledore however, to Maes' astonishment, looked back at the armor with a steady, calm gaze. "I am certain you will be able to perform 'our' magic, as you call it. After all, you can both perform alchemy, yes?"

The armor nodded.

"And I meant what I said when I told you that whatever alchemy you performed that sent you across time must have been powerful indeed. I don't foresee there being any issues in your abilities to learn, even though it will be slightly different from what you're used to. I think that you may even find that you have a major advantage in transfiguration," he looked toward Minerva as he said that, and Maes saw a twinkle in his eye. "The both of you strike me as incredibly intelligent and powerful wizards, in your own right," he continued. "I do not foresee there being any issues on that front."

The armor seemed to have been at least somewhat appeased by that, but he wasn't done asking questions. "Would we have time to continue our own research?" he said. "Only that… I know brother won't be content to let you all research how to get us back… he can be… stubborn about these things. He will want to do the research himself. And I agree. I also want to help. After all, we are the only two here who have any idea of what it was that sent us here."

Albus's eyes widened, then he nodded. "I think that could be arranged. However, if you agree to this plan, it will have to be on top of your coursework. I think that will be the best way for you to blend in, and you may find that you learn something in your classes that might help you."

The armor nodded. "And where will I stay until I can begin classes next year?"

"There are guest rooms in the castle," Dumbledore said at once. "It is not unprecedented for people to stay there. It may take some explaining, but I believe it will be okay for you to stay there. However, you will not be able to be sorted or attend classes until next year."

The boy in the armor nodded again.

Then he sighed. "I suppose I should introduce myself, then." He said, and at Dumbledore's encouragement, he continued. "My name is Alphonse Elric, and this is my brother, Edward Elric."

Dumbledore dipped his head. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Alphonse," he said. "I hope you find your stay, long or short as it may be, pleasant. For now, I will leave the two of you in Madam Pomfrey's capable hands, as I have several things that need doing urgently."

Alphonse nodded, and Dumbledore left the hospital wing, robes flowing gracefully behind.

Maes only stared after him for a second, and then he came to his senses and turned toward Alphonse.

"I don't think we've all been properly introduced," he told the boy, trying to keep his voice steady and calm. "My name is Professor Hughes. I teach charms. This is Professor McGonagall, our transfiguration teacher, and the head of Gryffindor house. And over there is Professor Mustang, who I think you met earlier. He teaches defense against the dark arts and is the head of Slytherin house. And Madam Pomfrey is the castle's resident healer. Your brother will be in good hands."

Alphonse nodded. "Nice to meet you," he said.

"If you need anything, we'll be around."

Madam Pomfrey seemed to choose that exact moment to come back into her senses and began shooing them all out of the hospital wing. "Out. These boys need rest."

Maes let himself be shuffled out by her, and then turned to his colleagues, whose faces were plastered with as much confusion and concern as he was sure his own was. "Well… that was strange."

Roy blew out a breath. "Tell me about it," he said.

Al couldn't sleep.

Thoughts of the things he'd been told earlier bounced around inside his head, until finally, feeling frazzled and worn thin, Al had lain on the bed he'd been assigned in the hospital wing, feeling strange. His new body was so large that his feet hung almost a foot off the edge of the bed, and no pillow was tall enough to reach the helmet when he was on his side. He'd lain on his side with his hand under his head to prop it up right, and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to come.

He'd waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Until he realized that he couldn't sleep. His body wouldn't let him.

After three hours of laying silently on the bed, he sat up in the dark hospital, watching the moonlight glitter through the window, landing in a patch at Ed's feet. He stared at Ed for a while, noticing the way his stumps looked like they'd been amputated for years now, instead of merely days. Whatever healing they were doing here - it was working extremely well. Ed's color had come back to normal, and if Al didn't know differently, he could have thought his brother was asleep.

Once he got tired of that, he turned his attention to his own body. He'd considered standing up and walking over to examine himself in the mirror by the door, except that his feet made so much noise when he walked, he was sure Madam Pomfrey would hear it and come out to check.

He sighed, considering that this was just one of the things he would have to get used to - no more sneaking around for him. He was too big to go unnoticed in a crowd, and he'd never again be able to use his skills at stealth that teacher had drilled into him.

And so he sat in his bed, the standard-issue blanket feeling pathetically tiny atop his legs, and examined himself as thoroughly as he could.

He felt around himself, touching his blanket, his mattress, the bedframe, and his suit of armor. But he couldn't feel anything. He could tell that his hand had met something, he felt some sort of pressure which was totally unlike anything he'd ever felt with his physical body. It was going to take a while to get used to that.

Not to mention the fact that he had realized during the first meal Madam Pomfrey had tried to serve him that he couldn't eat. His body didn't get hungry. Which meant that he would never again taste anything.

He sat quietly in the hospital bed, thinking about all the things he could no longer do. For a few minutes, he let himself wallow in it. The grief. He mourned the loss of his sense of smell, his sense of touch, his sense of taste.

And then he shook his head, "But," he whispered to himself. "I can still hear, and see, and move." He let his eyes drift over to his brother, the absence of his appendages noticeable as the blanket draped around his stumps. It wasn't as if his brother hadn't given anything up, either. Al didn't know if Ed would ever be able to walk again, or even draw transmutation circles - he was right-handed, after all. Maybe this place had automail, like what the Rockbells made.

Al felt another pang of sorrow at the thought of the Rockbells. Winry and Pinako had been like his and Ed's surrogate family after their mother had passed away. And now, they might never see them again.

Still, he didn't let himself focus for too long on his own sorrows. He vowed that starting the next day he would move around, he would do the training exercises their teacher had set out for them. He would do them over and over until this body felt as natural to him as his other one had.

And in the meantime, he would figure out how to send him and Ed back to where they belonged.

Ed regained consciousness slowly, and was surprised to find a very bright, spacious room coming into focus above him. It took his brain a moment to remember what had happened, but when he did…

"Al!" he yelled, sitting up straight. And then there were a pair of large hand pushing him easily back into his pillow, and a suit of armor came into focus.

"Ed!" it was Al's voice, but it was originating from the suit of armor. "I'm alright, Ed."

Then there was another voice. "Lie down!" it commanded. It was a woman, and as Ed looked over, he found a stranger; a short, plump woman, who was bending over him, and reaching out to touch him.

He flinched back hard, but the armored hands kept a firm grip on him. "Brother, it's alright! This is Madam Pomfrey, she's a healer. She's been fixing you up. You're in a hospital."

"Hospital?" Ed's voice felt hoarse from disuse.

"Do you… Do you remember what happened?" His brother's voice had gone quiet then, and his eyes snapped back to his little brother – who was not so little anymore.

"I…" but he couldn't finish that sentence. He did. He remembered with sickening clarity. Drawing the transmutation circle, the horrible place he'd been taken to, meeting Truth, going through the gate, losing his leg. And then… and then sacrificing his arm to bind his brother's soul to a nearby suit of armor. But… he dimly remembered that when he'd come back from the gate, he hadn't been in his parent's house. He'd been… somewhere else. "Where are we?"

Al's voice was quiet when he answered. "It's… complicated. It's more like… when are we."

Ed felt his eyes go wide as saucers. Beside him the woman was waving some sort of stick around, but he ignored that for now. "You mean…"

Al nodded. "Somehow, during the transmutation, we traveled through time, and space. It's 1991 here."

"Well, shit," Ed reached his hand up to cover his eyes, hoping the darkness would help him process. He felt the woman next to him, Madam Pomfrey, tense, but she didn't say anything.

"Brother!" Al chided. "Language."

Ed smiled at that. Somehow, everything was wrong, they had traveled through time, and Al was still berating him over his lousy language. It served to ground Ed a bit. At least they were still together. Whatever else happened, he wouldn't let anyone separate the two of them.

"Maybe that was part of the equivalent exchange?" Ed mused out loud, and Al nodded.

"I thought that too, but it's still strange. What kind of exchange is that?"

Ed frowned, thoughtfully. "I have no idea."

Him and Al were silent for a moment, and then Al spoke again.

"We're in some sort of school. For magic."

Ed scrunched up his face. "Magic?"

"Mmm. They told me that alchemy is a form of magic, although they don't teach it here."

"Alchemy isn't magic," Ed said automatically.

Al nodded, "Yeah, I told them that it's not considered magic where we're from, but I guess they consider it a form of magic. Anyway, I met the headmaster and several professors, and they all assured me that they would do everything they can to send us back…"

"You mean… you told them?" The words slipped out of Ed's mouth in horror. Everyone here knew…

Madam Pomfrey seemed to have been satisfied with what she saw for the moment, or maybe she had just sensed that they needed a moment, but she had disappeared back into their office.

"Not everything," Al said. "They know that we're from Amestris – which apparently doesn't exist anymore – and that we're alchemists, and that some sort of powerful alchemical reaction gone wrong has sent us through time. I didn't tell them any specifics. But I had to trust someone, Brother. You were dying. You were so small and pale, you were bleeding out, and I was in a suit of armor, and… why am I in a suit of armor? What was I supposed to do? I—"

Ed cut off his brother's spiraling with a lift of his hand. "It's alright, Al," he said, and though his mind was whirling with all this information, he managed a smile. "We'll figure it all out. Don't worry."

Al was silent for a moment. "Why am I in a suit of armor?"

"I…" Ed shut his eyes tightly. He didn't want to relive that memory, although he suspected he'd be reliving it the rest of his life. However, Al was waiting patiently for an answer that he deserved and so Ed told him.

When he finished, Al was silent for a moment, and then he said, very, very quietly, "You sacrificed your arm to get my soul?"

Ed nodded, feeling hot tears welling up in his eyes. "I didn't… there was nothing else I could do. You were gone."

Al nodded then. "Then it's my fault you lost your arm."

Ed's eyes flew open and he stared at his brother, fixing him with the sternest gaze he could muster. "Don't you think of it like that!" he said sharply. "It was my decision, and I don't regret it one bit! And besides, this whole thing was my idea, it was all my fault that it came to this."

Al shook his head, "I'll agree to stop blaming myself if you agree to stop blaming yourself," he said.

But Ed couldn't make that bargain. Even then, the cold weight of guilt was settling into his stomach, and he knew he would never be rid of it until he figured out a way to get their bodies back.

But on top of that guilt slid in a ball of horror as he remembered just what they had created. Before they were in the castle, he remembered seeing…

Something.

A shape. A monster. A pile of bones, human bones, but in all the wrong places. It had reached out to him. Their mother. Edward knew with a sickening dread that their transmutation had been successful… in a way. But he never wanted to see that thing again.

At the same time, he felt intense shame over thinking such a thing about his own mother.

But that wasn't her.

It wasn't her.

Not really.

"Brother?" Al's voice cut through Ed's thoughts.

"Yeah, Al?" he answered.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I'm just thinking that we are going to figure out a way to get our bodies back, and get back to our own time," he said, forcing as much conviction into the statement as he could.

Al nodded. "Mmm."

And then there was a slight pause, and Al continued, somewhat sheepishly. "There's one more thing I have to tell you," he said.