Chapter Text
Prologue
There wasn't a wizard alive in Great Britain that didn't know the name Nicolas Flamel or of the events that had transpired at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry just three years prior. Given the wizarding community's aptitude for gossip, it should come as no surprise that hushed whispers had quickly made their way around. Although minuscule details had been subjected to a considerable amount of exaggeration over the years, it was no secret that Flamel had successfully created a philosopher's stone. Furthermore, thanks in part to the Daily Prophet, the general wizarding public was also distinctly aware that the stone had very nearly become the victim of an elaborate heist.
The rest of the story was brought together with mere snippets of telltale chatter, no doubt the by-product of a witch with too much time on her hands. After all, the idea of three first-year students saving the day was most definitely a little out there, even for the most open-minded witch and wizard. These speculations even went a step further to suggest that Harry Potter had been personally involved. Yet, in the end, the only people who knew for sure what had transpired that day at Hogwarts refused to comment, leaving many of the facts up in the air.
Nicolas Flamel had since all but disappeared from the public's eye. Many believed he had chosen to retire with his wife to the countryside in France, carrying with them the rumours surrounding that night. It was why, after three years of radio silence, that the first bit of news surrounding the elderly alchemist to pop up was met with the same flurry of attention as three years prior.
Amelia Bones took another sip of her coffee, glancing down at her newspaper. The front page was completely overtaken with bolded text that read 'Nicolas Flamel Appoints Alchemy Apprentices'.
All things considered, it was unsurprising to her that when the news broke, the wizarding world was taken by storm. Given his old age and public blackout, not a single soul had expected Flamel to take on an apprentice, let alone two. Even Amelia had found herself taken aback.
Roaring with the news, people had jumped at the chance to find out more about the Flamel's mysterious students. This proved harder than anticipated as even the craftiest of journalists failed to unearth anything beyond their names – Edward and Alphonse Elric.
Amelia set her paper down, reflecting on the buzz that had settled over the wizarding community in regard to the puzzling figures. Even the ministry had been unable to uncover any tangible facts. This, unfortunately, meant she was just as reliant on the mindless gossip as the average joe. Over the past two days at the ministry Amelia had made herself privy to the various snippets of conversations held in the elevators or hallways. It was widely believed for the two apprentices to be merely children, which begged the question of schooling or lack thereof. Once again, the ministry had been unable to find records of their enrollment - not just at Hogwarts, but at any magical school on the continent. Perhaps one of the more curious pieces of gossip was related to the physical appearance of Flamel's apprentices; eyes of gold the rumours said.
But alas, as with any piece of spicy gossip, Amelia found that the fevered interest died down once a new scandal eventually broke.
The airwaves went silent.
The ministry left the subject on the back burner, until months later, with still no sightings of Flamel or his notorious apprentices, the wizarding world was once again rocked with news that no one had expected.
Amelia sighed, running her hands over her face as she glanced down at her desk – a disarray of newspaper clippings and evidence reports. One page stood out from the rest.
'Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel Found Murdered'.
Amelia had been called into work only to learn that both Nicolas Flamel and his wife had been found dead in their countryside home. The main suspects in their death had been apprehended and brought in for questioning. Amelia glanced down at the photographs of their primary and only suspects, which happened to be none other than Flamel's infamous apprentices.
Edward and Alphonse Elric.
...
The local cemetery of Little Hangleton was eerily silent in the crisp night air. Not even a mouse dared to scurry across the ground as if for fear of being suffocated by the stench of death that seemingly protruded from the earth. The only noise that penetrated the night was the sound of shuffling footsteps as the graveyard groundskeeper moved between the mass of gravestones, his face scrunched up in poorly concealed irritation.
"Damn kids," He stalked towards the Riddle House where mere minutes before, a loud crash of shattering glass had disturbed his dinner.
Faint promises of punishment fell from his lips as he entered the house, wasting no time in making his way up the creaking steps. It had been a while since he had dealt with a break-in, but he knew the routine well enough to know what to do. Usually, all it took was a bit of yelling, before whatever misfortunate kid scurried off back to town, tail between their legs.
Frank slowed his steps. Voices had quickly given away the presence of people in the drawing-room on the second floor. He had no problem chasing off a few kids, but the voices were clearly those of grown adults; one seemed to epitomize the sounds of a mouse - high pitched and squeaky- well the other sent shivers down Frank's spine at the frigid words laced with malice.
They were talking about murder.
"It must be Harry Potter," the voice hissed. The other occupants of the room went silent, and Frank could only assume they were unable to do much other than agree with the man. "Have you found me any more information on Flamel's apprentices?"
The first voice squeaked. Even though the walls, Frank could practically feel the fear that radiated from the room. "Ma-Master, I've looked everywhere, bu-but there's nothing. No one knows a-anything about the b-boys..."
"You disappoint me Wormtail."
Frank's focus was instantly interrupted as something scaly began to wrap itself around his leg. He froze, unable to bring himself to look down. It wasn't until the voices in the room raised in volume that Frank realized the drawing-room door had opened and the occupants were looking down the hallway at him.
"Perhaps you'd like to invite our guest in, Wormtail?"
The snake tightened its hold around his legs, but before Frank could even think about escaping, a green light filled his vision and the world around him faded away in a sea of black.
Present Day
The first thing Ed registered after waking up was his pounding migraine. Almost instinctively his hands shot to his head, a quiet groan fell from his lips as his muscles protested against the sudden movements.
"What the fuck," He whispered, voice faint and unsteady. It felt like the slicer brothers had decided to go another round at him, but this time with baseball bats instead of swords. Forcing his eyes open, he revelled at the darkness that surrounded him; wherever he was there were no windows or lights.
"Great, just great." He leaned his head back against the stone floor, trying to think back to the events that had led him there. Within seconds memories of the previous night flashed through his mind and he couldn't help the stream of curses that flew through his clenched teeth.
"Fucking wizards." He finished, remembering the ambush. The chill of the ground beneath him felt rough against his hands as he forced himself into a kneeling position. Carefully he began to feel his way around the room searching for anything that might signal a way out.
He cursed again as he came up with nothing; the walls were completely bare and the room was empty aside from himself. It was as if he was trapped in a gigantic box, and without being able to discern the make-up of the walls around him, he was stuck. Not to mention the damn wizards hadn't even given him a bed to lay on.
With a sigh, he sat back against one of the walls as he thought about the events that had led up to this.
Five Months Ago
Edward struggled to escape the black tendrils that pinned him to the ground. Mustang, Teacher, Al, and his father were also rendered motionless, each looking just as desperate to escape as the other. Ed glared up at the figure that leered over them, laughing at their struggle.
It felt as if all the air in the room was sucked away as everything they had worked so hard to prevent was set in the motion.
They were helpless to stop the country-wide array from being activated.
He was helpless.
Edward Elric did not like to be helpless.
Renewing his efforts to free himself Ed thrashed uselessly, the scattered wounds that littered his torso soaked the ground beneath him in a thin layer of blood. Around the room, the other five sacrifices were also fighting against their restraints.
"Watch as I open this planet's gateway!" The Dwarf in the Flask cried manically, dark red light filling the room.
"Al!" He screamed as the black tendrils snapped tight, the gate's eye splintering his stomach in two. "ALPHONSE!".
He could hear his brother screaming, but could only watch hopelessly as they were lifted up, the wind battering his face as the array intensified in power.
Alphonse, Winry, Granny...everyone…hang on.
An explosion of white filled his vision.
The world around him faded away as an ocean of black swallowed him whole.
…
The next time he woke it felt as if he had been hit by a train. With a pained hiss, Ed slowly stood up, swaying slightly. Tall green grass circled him on all sides as various coloured flowers were scattered around the meadow that surrounded him; the setting sun blazed a breathtaking red as it painted the sky above a brilliant orange.
His daydreaming was broken by a soft noise a few feet away. His eyes widened as a mop of dirty blonde hair lifted itself from the grass.
For the second time in the past few minutes, Ed had his breath get taken away.
"Alphonse…" His eyes widened in disbelief at the frail form of his brother sitting in front of him.
His brother.
Made of flesh and bone.
Without hesitation he launched forward, wrapping his arms around his frail frame. They sat like that for a few moments, Ed savouring the feeling of warmth that radiated from his brother's skin.
Alphonse looked just as shocked as he did, if not more. Ed sat back, watching as Al slowly raised a hand to stare at it in wonder. "My body... it's back?"
So absorbed in their own thoughts, both of them failed to notice the astonished face of the man just a few metres away.
…
Nicolas Flamel has seen many interesting things throughout his many years on earth. He had lived through the rise and fall of both Grindelwald and Voldemort, along with the extended time of peace that accompanied the demise of the latter. As such, when his wife had let out a surprised cry from the front porch, Nicolas had been expecting the worst. He was unprepared for the sight that lay ahead of him. Glancing upwards, his eyes widened as the sky was split in two by a blinding flash of blue light that twisted into a circle covered with what looked like ancient alchemic glyphs. He was even more taken aback to witness the sight of two bodies drop from the circle and land in the meadows a bit away from the house.
He hadn't realized he had frozen until a minute later when one of the figures slowly rose to their feet. The figure seemed dazed as he glanced around his surrounding, the cottage hidden from the figure's view by more than a few spells. Quickly trying to assess the situation Nicolas made his way forward to the edge of the wards that protected his property, wand at the ready in front of him.
Without hesitating he passed through the wards, emerging into the meadows beyond until he stood just a few feet away from the two strangers. Now that he had closed the distance between them, Nicolas realized that the two figures were merely those of two young boys. Even more shocking was the boy's appearance; one was covered from head to toe in wounds, his clothes ripped to shreds and barely clinging to his form. Peaking out from beneath the tattered shreds was a metal arm and leg, well beyond the technological advancement of either wizards or muggles. The second boy looked almost skeletal, naked except for the torn red jacket draped over him; it was a wonder the boy had the strength to lift his hand.
Clearing his throat, he watched as the boy with the metal arm and leg whipped around, throwing himself in front of the other child. Nicolas raised his hands in what he hoped relayed he meant no harm.
"Hello", he spoke, carefully studying the boy's reactions.
The boy's mouth snapped closed, his eyes narrowed suspiciously as if he expected to be attacked.
"My name is Nicolas Flamel," He thought he saw a brief glimpse of disbelief flash across both of the children's faces before being replaced with distrust.
"Don't bullshit me, old man," The boy in front hissed with an air of impatience.
Nicolas had to admit he was baffled at their reaction; why on earth would his name cause the boy to react so volatilely? "Whatever do you mean, child?"
"Nicolas Flamel died nearly 400 years ago." The boy explained slowly as if he were talking to a child.
Now that threw Nicolas for a loop. "I can assure you, child, I am very much alive and breathing," He chuckled heartily, not missing how the boy's eyes only narrowed farther. Sensing that the conversation was spiralling, Nicolas decided to try for a new approach. "Let's say we discuss this over a cup of tea, my wife is no doubt curious about our unexpected visitors."
He didn't give the child a chance to rebuke him before he turned and made his way back to the cabin. He ignored the shocked exclamation from one of the boys as they passed the wards and the cottage was unveiled.
…
Ed hesitantly helped Al to his feet, cautiously following after the man. He made sure to use his jacket to cover Al's thin frame. For the life of him, Ed couldn't bring himself to trust the man. One second, they had been fighting for their lives, and the next they were suddenly in the middle of nowhere, with this geezer claiming to be Nicolas Flamel. If the man had wanted to be convincing, surely, he should have thought up a better alias.
He was broken from his musings as Al gave a surprised gasp from beside him. Ed snapped to alertness, his eyes widening slightly as he gazed upon a small two-story cottage in front of them. How had he missed that? Shaking his head, he chalked it up to exhaustion from the battle, but a pit had gradually settled in his stomach.
Something about all of this felt off.
Both the boys were ushered inside by a lady who looked as old as 'Nicolas' himself. Wrinkles surrounded gentle eyes that seemed to swim with years of untold secrets. The woman shut the door behind them with a soft click.
"Heavens on earth whatever happened to you two?" She whispered, staring at the boys in shock.
Edward just shrugged. Given the circumstances, it was probably best not to reveal too much to strangers.
"We were in an accident," Alphonse spoke up, quickly catching on.
The woman nodded, but something in her eyes told Ed that she didn't believe their story. "Alright, follow me. There's a bathroom down the hall where you two can wash up, we'll talk afterward."
As soon as the bathroom door was shut behind him, Ed turned to Al, making sure to keep his voice to a whisper so that they weren't overheard. "What the fuck happened? The last thing I remember we were fighting Father."
Alphonse shook his head, equally confused, "I honestly have no clue, how did I get my body back? What about your arm and leg?"
Ed didn't know how to reply. A quick tap against his limbs revealed they were still the same metal appendages they had been for years. Of course, he was overjoyed to see Al returned to his normal body, but what price had been paid? What had been exchanged? None of this made sense.
"I think for now we should stay here until we can find a way back to central. As suspicious as all this is, this man and his wife seemed nice enough. Besides, if they try something, we have alchemy," Al whispered.
Ed didn't want to admit it, but he knew Al was probably right, just like he always was. They would never make it to central in this condition. They needed time to recover and gather some intel on what had happened.
The rest of the evening went by fairly uneventfully. The Flamel's had offered up a guest room which they accepted, and after a short round of questions that eventually led to Al falling asleep on the couch next to him, they were shown their room with the promise to talk more in the morning.
Edward picked up Al's sleeping form from the couch, careful not to wake him, before carrying him to the room. Once inside, he gently laid Al down on the bed before climbing in next to his brother and wrapping his arms around Al's torso. The pajamas that had been lent to them felt soft against his bruised skin, helping to lull him into slumber and within seconds he had fallen asleep with his face buried in his brother's hair, praying that this wasn't all just some insane dream.
Al had gotten his body back.
The rest could be figured out in the morning.
…
When Ed woke to the sunlight filtering inside the room, he buried his nose back into the pillows, unwilling to leave the warmth of his brother's side. He glanced up as the door clicked open, suddenly alert. He had learned early on not to underestimate people based on their age. However, as Flamel's wife entered carrying with her a tray filled with an assortment of breakfast food, he forced himself to relax. She set the tray down on the bedside table, before withdrawing a small bottle of liquid. Ed glanced suspiciously at the liquid as she placed it beside the tray.
"This is for the other boy," she stated, ignoring his glare. "He is barely more than skin and bones. This will help him regain his strength. Make sure he drinks it. All of it."
Ed nodded when she glanced up at him with a face that left no room foor arguement.
Once she left the room Ed glanced down at his brother, gently shaking him awake.
Alphonse stirred, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. "What smells so good?" He mumbled sleepily. Brown eyes widened as they took in the wide assortment of food next to them.
"The old lady dropped these off," Ed explained, grabbing the tray and setting it in his brother's lap. He watched happily as his brother's eyes glinted in poorly concealed excitement, thin arms instinctively reaching for one of the pastries.
"Cherry!" Al exclaimed, closing his eyes and letting the flavours wash over his tongue.
Ed could feel the tension in his bones melt away at the look of sheer happiness that encompassed his brother's face, and for a moment, he forgot all about the worries of being stuck in a foreign place.
At this moment all that mattered was Alphonse and the cherry pastry held in his hands.
"Try the juice next."
Ed sat silently as his brother tried a few bites of each of the items on the tray, before carefully coaxing him to drink the liquid Flamel's wife had left.
Only once he tore his eyes away from his brother did he realize that two sets of clothes had been left at the end of the bed. Once, he had changed and then helped Alphonse to change, they made their way to the living room where both the Flamel's sat as if waiting for them. Ed helped Alphonse over to the sofa across from the two, before taking a seat beside his brother.
The old man glanced at them thoughtfully. "As I explained yesterday, my name is Nicolas Flamel, and this is my wife Perenelle. What is it that we should call you?"
Ed glanced at his brother, and after receiving a soft nod from Al, decided it was best to take a straightforward approach with the strange couple. "This is my brother Alphonse Elric and I'm Edward Elric, the Full Metal Alchemist."
"You're an alchemist?" Flamel looked taken aback, looking quickly towards his wife who also looked shocked. Edward thought nothing of the man's surprise, he knew that in some towns on the outskirts of Amestris alchemists were a rare commodity. "Where from?" The man questioned.
"We were born in Risembool, but are currently staying in Central," Edward left out the last bit 'that's if Central is still standing'. Once Alphonse was strong enough, and they were pointed to the nearest train station they would be able to find out for themselves what had happened. "How far is central from here?"
Both the man and his wife looked confused. "Central?" The man asked quizzically, "Is that in Britain?"
Britain?
Edward froze. Beside him, his brother stiffened. Even if these people lived in the countryside, everyone knew of Amestris's capital city. Which could only mean one thing.
They weren't in Amestris anymore.
"Do you have a map?" Edward asked quickly, trying not to let himself panic. First things first, he needed to find out where exactly they were. The old man nodded, exiting the room momentarily before returning with a map in hand and laying it on the table in front of the boys.
"What in truth's name…" Ed whispered glancing at the unfamiliar territories scattered across the map.
To his horror, Amestris wasn't anywhere to be found.
What did this mean?
His thoughts were broken as Flamel's wife spoke up. "You children seem to be a long way from home," The woman stated matter-of-factly, clearly aware of the boy's surprise, "Your parents will be worried."
Alphonse shifted uncomfortably, "We don't have parents, ma'am. Our mom passed when we were young." He trailed off at the look of shock he received from the woman.
"And your father?" Nicolas questioned, eyebrow raised.
"Missing." Alphonse decided to leave out the part where their father had gone missing as they tried to stop an immortal being from destroying their country.
"Surely you must have a guardian? There's no way you're old enough to have graduated school already," Her voice reeked less of pity, and more of genuine concern to have found two children wandering around the countryside.
"We haven't been in school since brother was 9 and I was 8," Al continued as if sensing the Flamel's growing shock, "We learned a lot from our father's books and even studied under an alchemy teacher."
Edward shivered at the mention of their teacher. "Violent housewife more like it," He mumbled under his breath.
"What are your plans now?" Nicolas asked, glancing at the two boys with the same air of concern as his wife, but also with a keen sense of curiosity. It was incredibly rare to find anyone studying the ancient art of alchemy, let alone children. "Do you plan to enroll in Hogwarts? Surely the both of you are of age."
"What the fuck is a hogwits?" Ed asked.
"Brother language!" Al exclaimed, elbowing his brother lightly before apologizing for his brother's crassness.
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Perenelle elaborated. "The biggest magic school in Britain".
Edward couldn't help the dry laugh that escaped his lips. These people were crazy. "Magic is a fairy-tale that parents tell their children in bedtime stories," During his travels throughout Amestris, he had met many interesting people, and heard many stories and tales. Magic, however, was in its own ballpark of crazy.
Nicolas glanced at the two boys curiously; they had no idea what magic was, yet they studied alchemy, "I can assure you, child, that magic very much exists, just as much as alchemy exists."
"You're batshit," Edward stated bluntly, ignoring the way Al elbowed him again. "Alchemy is a science, it has laws. Magic is a fairytale."
Perenelle's lips pulled taut, clearly disapproving of the boy's choice of words, "I would kindly suggest that you watch your language under my roof," Her lips settled into a stern frown as she pulled out her wand and summoned over the kettle from the other room. She watched mirthfully as the two boys went rigid, staring at her as if she'd grown a second head.
"What the hell did you put in our food this morning?" Ed couldn't move, his voice barely above a whisper.
Surely, he must be hallucinating.
Magic wasn't real.
It couldn't be real.
He had dedicated his entire life to the science of Alchemy, to the laws of equivalent exchange. Where were the laws in magic?
Magic went against everything he had ever learned.
Everything he had known.
Nicolas chuckled at the boy's wonderment, completely oblivious to the inner turmoil that racked the two children in front of him.
"It would seem as though we have a lot to teach each other".