Equivalent Trade


Story set after Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix


It was a very long summer, the Dursleys, not very keen on communicating since the howler and a certain mad auror, fervently ignored Harry. Dudley sat as far as possible away from Harry on any kind of situation and they left him to his own devices in his room. Normally, Harry would just have sat in the silence but nowadays; he couldn't help but to use anyone as an outlet for his anger.

He sighed. Hermione and Ron, they've tried to cheer him up all summer, all he did was send them multiple howlers and yet they kept trying. Hermione even helped him order his school supplies, and he didn't even send her a word of thanks.

Sirius Black, wanted criminal, thought to have committed dozens of murders and the first escapee of Azkaban. The world thought him a criminal, a traitor and a murderer. He looked dully at the interesting white ceiling. If he hadn't gone, if he had just stayed put, Sirius would still be there. He was shaken out of his thoughts when another letter with a lumpy package arrived. He stroked Hedwig's head as he read the letter carefully.

Dear Harry,

I can't imagine what you could be feeling right now; it's probably eating at you right now huh? Well let me tell you this, and I hope you listen this time. You've heard this from everyone over and over again but please, just this once listen. It is not your fault. Now, repeat after me "It isn't my fault." You aren't repeating. Go on, you can do it, mate. Come on, its not that bad, just say it. Bloody hell! Just say it so I don't have to write this over and over again.

Ok, ignore that, anyways, Hermione has something to say:

I agree with Ron. Harry, Sirius would have given his life for you just to make you happy and I'm sure you would do the same. Wasting your life away like this isn't what he would want. Think about it.

P.S. I've gotten 9 OWLs! NINE!

P.P.S. SHE got 12 though…. Grr.. Well, Happy birthday.

Harry felt the beginnings of a true smile tugging at his lips. His friends, what he would do without them. He grabbed the package, inside there was a shining little white book. Problem was there were no pages. He turned the book every which way and tapped it numerously with his wand. Nothing happened, after awhile Harry just set it aside, promising to figure it out later. He went into the rest of the package, Ron had given him several kinds of candies though Harry didn't touch them knowing very well who, or whom Ron was related to. Deeper inside he found a silver keychain with a miniature broom with a note taped to it.

"This keychain will always fly back to its true owner, see? So you'll never lose it!"

Harry had to grin; Ron always found some cool little knickknack to give him, he fumbled with it a bit before seeing on the back of the note there were instructions. Hermione on the other hand had always tried to give him something sensible, he glanced at the book, there must be some use for it. He picked it up and said, "Hello." Nothing happened, he sighed. Count on Hermione to get him something he couldn't understand. Suddenly the book started to glow, and one single page appeared. He read it aloud and stared in shock, it was recording his thoughts! Well, his whole coherent sentence thoughts at least. Harry grinned and started a letter to his best friends.


He had finally found it, the Philosopher's stone. Well, at least the presumed maker. The golden haired boy grinned as he clutched the book. This would need more researching, he knew, but he was never one for patience. He was confident in his skills, assured really, but he knew this time, he'd have to ask for help… even if it was from the most perpetually annoying people on this side of the country.

Colonel Roy Mustang was not pleased. He was the Flame Alchemist, one who could manipulate fire and all its elements with a snap of a finger, one who commanded the respect of peers and superiors alike! But this… person, this shrimp had the audacity to argue.

"Edward, for one, we cannot go into any of the Forbidden Practices."

"I'm not doing anything illegal!" The boy with the blonde hair grated, his eyes narrowed.

"Human Alchemy is illegal. You must give something of equal value, an eye for an eye and I doubt anything can change it, even one as unusual as yourself. To use a human in alchemy, is just…"

"I know that already idiot! Alchemists are scientists who create and aid the people yadda yadda yadda. Now will you help me or not," Ed crossed his arms.

"Since you seem to be missing the point here's a basic lesson." Colonel Mustang slapped a hand on the desk in front of Ed and forced him into the seat.

"Wha? What the fuck are you doing?"

"Human transmutation is well beyond our reach. You should know that much at the very least. Almost no one has survived such a practice." Mustang glared at the youth. "I would think you'd be the last one to forget this."

"Yes, now will you listen?"

"Yup, I'm done."


"Shrimp," Mustang smirked to himself about his most clever comeback.


Diagon Alley, oh the wonderful fresh air with the mellow scent of dragon dung. How Harry missed the wizarding world. He promised to meet Hermione and Ron at the twins shop so they could stay a night there until they had to leave for King's Cross. He looked around, getting impatient. He was determined to apologize and meet up with his friends as soon as possible. He glanced at his watch (Moody witched it to be unaffected by magic). 'Well, I still have 15 minutes or so', he thought as he strolled down the sidewalk.


"What is this?" Mustang asked as he walked into the hotel the Elric Brothers was staying at. The floor was cleared of everything; all that was left was a complicated rune like symbol on the floor. Ed was in the process of finishing it. "I thought you didn't need a sigil to do alchemy, Ed."

"I don't. This just happened to be an aide, cause this is the first time we're using alchemy to replace bodies. In most matter to matter alchemy, it's simple, just rearranging the pieces, but this one… it's to trick it, the principles so to say," Ed said matter-of-factly, he stood up, careful not to scruff the sigil.

"Replace Bodies? Human Transmutation? You mean you found a loophole?"

"No no, we're 'summoning' a person. Nicolas Flamel to be exact," Alphonse said as he clunked into the room bringing in a bucket of materials that looked like sand. Multicolored sand.


"Correct, Nicolas Flamel, an alchemist who existed as a myth, as the only true maker of the Philosopher's stone," Ed smirked, holding up the book he had been carrying around. It was titled 'Myths of Alchemy.'

"Nicolas Flamel? But he's a legend, something out of fairytale of wizards and witches!"

"Ahh, but I've also come up with a theory of my own. Parallel Dimensions. Stemming from choices and circumstances, it would be foolish to think that this was the only world. What if, there were many, many universes and there was one, without the law of equivalent trade? We could ultimately reach that world perhaps. That's why the Sigil's here. I created it specifically to emphasize on the laws of another world, from the forbidden alchemy but still open the gates to that…" He trailed off, his gaze hardening, seeing a horror only he could remember.

"You plan to… but what about equivalent trade?" Mustang didn't want to admit it, but his curiosity was growing.

"That's the other part of the theory. Flamel's world does not revolve around equivalent trade, if we do it right, we could bring him here and have no consequences on us because the two participating worlds have different laws of the world." Ed flipped through his notes, nodding as he spoke. "Everything should be in order."

"But just in case," Alphonse spoke up, we've got the ingredients to make a dummy, the look of a human and the ingredients of a human, but just a clay like body. Not alive see? So just reforming the materials to look human as a hard shell to fool that place... So we won't be sucked into it… We're not entirely sure, the soul is unaccounted for."

"You two keep on mentioning a place… what place or gate?" Mustang asked sharply, no, he didn't want to do this; he so did not want to do this… But he looked at the brothers, expecting.

"…" They looked at each other.

"You'll see." Alphonse spoke up quietly and set the tub of material in the center.

"I want to know now, as you're commanding officer. What is that "Place"."

"A Gate. The place where you go, once you've ignored the rules of Equivalent Trade and stepped into God's domain. We believe it's the crossroads of all knowledge and all worlds," Al said softly, looking away. They both grew very quiet. They knew the price was to play with life and humans, Al, now only proof in a spirit, a soul embodied in a piece of armor and Ed, who hid his body from any wandering eyes.

The curiosity was too much for him though; Mustang glanced at the floor and then at the two brothers. His resolve in order and rules caved, and glanced at Al, "Let's do it." Ed smiled, he never thought of this but he needed Mustang, his alchemy was strong and that way, their combined chances were improved.

The stood around the sigil, 120 degrees around, each touched both hands unto the outermost edge and closed their eyes. A door opened.


Harry kept on strolling, deeply in thought…Sirius… The closest thing to a father and he was gone. He thought about Dumbledore, on how he let, no… he didn't let him die. He sighed, he couldn't blame it at Dumbledore, he just couldn't. It was his own thick headedness that landed them in that mess. Even if Harry was still pissed at Dumbledore for keeping something like that from him for years, he could see why he did it. Though it didn't lessen his anger toward the old man. That and-


"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" Harry snapped around toward the dark alley. He cautiously approached the muffled sounds of rage, suddenly, he saw a red blur dash out of the alley with an equally fast blue blur following.

"EDWARD YOU ARE SO DEAD!" Harry stared dumbfounded at the two figures. He glanced around; they were around the connecting point between Knockturn Alley and Diagon. Not the safest place.

"Um, Excuse me… misters… um, sirs?" Harry walked cautiously up to the fuming people that seemed to appear out of thin air. The one clad in a blue military like outfit turned around. He seemed to compose himself better than the shorter red one.

"Hey kid, do you know where this is?" the older and taller man asked, straightening his clothes.

"Diagon Alley." Harry was confused, only wizards are able to get into Diagon, so why didn't they know where they were? The man in blue glanced at the shorter one, still huffing in anger.

"Where's Al?" the blue one asked the shorter blond man.

"Here," Harry turned to see possibly the strangest sight ever. An armored man with a loincloth, standing about 7 feet tall, with a girl slung over his shoulder.

"WINRY?" the shorter man yelped as he ran over.

"It seems that she got caught in the sigil, Ed. She's only unconscious," The elder man said shrugging.

"Shit. We are in Deep Shit." Ed said banging his head on Al's shoulders; scratch that, banging on the joint to Al's arms. He was too short to do anything else. Harry stared at the foreign people. So what was he supposed to do now?