Tada! Everyone does a Harry Potter/Fullmetal Alchemist crossover, so now it's my turn. Set in 3rd Harry Potter book, haven't decided where in Fullmetal Alchemist yet. I read almost all of the manga so far, but I never finished the anime, despite being a huge fan, so bare with me. Anyway, if I had a million dollars, I would buy the rights to both, (maybe just Fullmetal Alchemist) but by the mere fact that I'm not already a millionaire, I think it's pretty obvious I own neither. Please don't sue me. Comment however you feel, I don't care, just comment. But don't be too harsh. I do have feelings. If I break down into tears, and they work their way into my keyboard, my computer might fry. O.k Go!
Head down, hands in pockets, and a scowl on his face, the boy paced down the dark street, taking out his aggression on a small rock that he kicked as he went along, sending it flying
anew with every step where he reached it again. One particularly vicious strike, an exclamation point on his mumbled curses, sent his stone clattering to a halt in a pool of light cast by
a solitary streetlamp. The boy stopped and stared at the stone for a long time, but his mind was obviously concentrating on things many miles away. Finally, his shoulders slumped and
he let out a long sigh. "Well, it's not like I can do anything about it. Orders are orders. And besides, the intelligence report Mustang gave me promised a large library. Granted, no
where near as big as Central's, but for the most part filled with books Central doesn't have. Although there's a 99% chance that this needlessly long and utterly pointless mission is a
complete waste of my time, if there is even that 1% chance that along the way I can find what I have been searching for for so long…it will be all worth it." Allowing himself to smile
now, and noting that there was no reason to keep out of sight if no one else was out at this time of night to see him anyway, the boy gave a little dash forward into the little circle and
gave the rock one final kick, and watched it soar out in a wide arc out of the light and into some vague shapes that could be bushes if he squinted.
Startled, he took a step back when instead of the whack he expected to hear, there came instead a dull thump followed almost immediately by a yelp of pain. He took another step
back, then another when he saw what it was he hit. Rearing out of the shadows, a huge black animal shape, and looking absolutely nothing like anything you'd expect to see on the
outskirts of rural England. Stepping out of the light entirely, he crouched down and readied his blade. "…Envy?...no, it's definitely a genuine animal…hell only knows what…wait…is
that?...is that a DOG?" It was indeed a dog. The biggest, blackest, dirtiest, starved, and insane looking dog he had ever seen. 'I doubt even Al could love this mutt…although it is Al…but
he was always more of a cat person.' 'It's probably a stray…' He thought, taking in the matted fur, and clearly visible ribs. He made a move as if to retract his blade, but thought better
of it after eyeing the sharp yellow teeth, and merely lowered it cautiously to his side. Strangely, the dog's eyes followed his movements and stared at his arm in open curiosity.
However, the dog was also very skittish, (no, maybe wary was a better word for it) and gave off the feeling that it was in a hurry, had a long way still to go and not much time left to
get there. Although it clearly wanted to stay and investigate the boy further, the dog shifted repeatedly from paw to paw, looking back behind it many times, and after giving him one
last long stare, one that seemed to say 'I'll won't forget this meeting, and we will cross paths again' turned and dashed off in the direction from which it had emerged. It disappeared
from sight almost immediately, its color blending in perfectly with the shadows. The boy waited a moment to guarantee that the potentially dangerous animal wasn't returning, and
reluctantly sheaved his blade. "Damn weird animal." He commented, staring off in frustration and confusion at what had just happened. Still, regardless of strange encounters, he too
had a destination to reach before the end of night. And so, the alchemist immediately set off to find the bus stop. No buses should have been running at this time of night, but then
again, this was no ordinary bus, and would be waiting nonetheless.
Harry Potter, the boy who had become a household name merely by being alive, stared in horror at the sight before him. Only moments before he had stormed out of his aunt and
uncle's house (after inflating his uncle's sister like a balloon) taking nothing with him but an empty birdcage, a broomstick, a chest of schoolbooks, and the clothes on his back. Now,
absolutely alone in the world, with no money, no means of communication (Hedwig was on a delivery, and everyone knows wizards don't use cell phones, or phones at all for that
matter), and most importantly, no witnesses, he was about to be eaten by what was either a giant black demon dog, or a small black rabid bear.
Taking a step backward and throwing his hands up in front of his face, Harry tripped over his trunk and landed in the curb, mind registering a loud BANG and bright lights with just
enough time to pull himself out of the way before he was run over by the bus. The violently purple triple decker bus's door opened and a voice called down "Welcome to the Knight Bus:
transport for the stranded witch or wizard. ... Soooo, you getting on or not? And why you down there?"
Still in shock from almost being killed twice in a matter of seconds, he noted that at least the dog-beast was nowhere in sight now. 'The bus must have scared it off.' Picking up his bags
and climbing up the stairs, he replied rather annoyed, "I didn't mean to fall over. Can you take me to Diagon Alley in London?" The conductor nodded. "Sure can. Hear that Ern?" The
driver nodded, and Harry was jolted backwards onto a bed as the bus quickly set into motion again. It was only then that he noticed that rather than seats, the bus was packed with
beds that shifted dangerously around the floor every time the bus slowed down, sped up, or turned a corner. Harry decided to take his chances with the bed he had landed on, rather
than to take his chances with getting crushed to death trying to navigate to a bigger or more comfortable one farther back. He settled down for the trip. Shortly, the teenage
conductor, Stan, pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet to read, and the young wizard was horrified to see that he recognized the screaming face on the cover.
"But that's the escaped criminal who was on the muggle news!" Stan looked smug and amused. "'Course it is. You don't read much, do you? That's Sirius Black, that is. Insane. Put
away in Azkaban 12 years ago for killing 13 people with a single curse. 1 wizard and 12 muggles in broad daylight, and blowing up the entire street with them! Lots of trouble he
caused. When the aurors came to take him away, he went all willing and calm-like, but was laughing the whole time. Utterly mad." Then he grinned wickedly and leaned closer. "The
first man to EVER escape Azkaban, and the guards are furious. But I'm not surprised. They say he was one of You-Know-Who's strongest supporters, his 2nd in command. You-Know-
Who's fall was Black's fall too. And now that he's free, I think it's safe to say we all know what he's gonna do. Get his revenge. On Harry Potter." Harry gulped. Stan leaned back again,
smiling, and straightened out his newspaper with a satisfactory snap. "Hey, what was your name again?" "Uh…Neville Longbottom." "Well, why don't you relax a bit, Neville. We still
have a few stops to make before we reach yours." Harry nodded and lay back to think. After a while, he got to staring at his surroundings, and taking a deep breathe, finally got up the
nerve to ask Stan another question. "Who's that?"
He jerked his thumb toward someone who just might have been the most interesting person on board. The passenger was certainly the most noticeable. For one thing, unlike the
other members of the magical community dressed in their pajamas and tucked under their covers to catch a bit of sleep before they arrived, this person was fully dressed and was
sprawled asleep across the top of the bed. His dress was particularly odd, not even wizard's robes. He wore all black under a red traveling cloak adorned with a strange symbol of a
winged and crowned snake coiled around a cross on the back. Pristine white gloves covered his hands, black combat boots dropped mud onto his sheets, and a silver pocket watch on
a chain had slipped from his pocket and now hung at his side. He wore his long blonde hair in a braid. However, the thing that caught Harry's attention the most was the fact that he
was the only person aboard the bus around Harry's own age, give or take a few years. All in all, he was the most singularly strange person Harry had ever seen.
Stan craned his neck to see without moving from his spot who Harry was indicating. "Can't rightly say, 'cause I don't rightly know. He's one odd customer, all right. Normally, the type
we pick up are them magic folks who, like yourself, find themselves in urgent need of getting away to somewhere where they're not, but haven't got the means to do so. So they flag
us down, and we take them there. Keep this between ourselves, but in this case, lately we gets an official looking letter politely commanding us to pick up a specified to-remain-secret-
to-us person, at a specified location, at a specified date and time. And that's where Mr. Mystery over there joined our ranks. It was awful strange though. When we first pulled up and
saw him standing there alone, he was the only one it could have been. But even though we was pulled up directly in front of him, he didn't even seem to see us until Ern here honked. I
was worried we'd picked up a muggle by accident. But he had the watch, just like the letter said he would."
Both watched the boy no one seemed to know anything about, or at least anyone willing to say what they did know. The watch swung gently back and forth on its chain, like a
hypnotist's pendulum, glittering in the light. Both jumped when the boy turned over, muttering something unintelligible under his breathe. Stan brightened up. "There! That proves it!
Completely different language. He's a foreigner! Must be the squib son of some important wizard diplomat, that's mmy guess!" "I don't think him mumbling constitutes your theory…"
Harry added weakly, but Stan didn't seem to hear, humming happily.
Harry continued to watch the sleeping boy in open fascination until he was flung toward the front of the bus again when it hit the brakes hard and skidded to a halt in front of the
familiar sign of the Leaky Caldron. "Here's your stop, Mr. Longbottom. Watch your step." The driver spoke. "Better be getting off." Harry grabbed his luggage, but stopped at the
doorway when he saw the figure waiting outside the pub, who had stepped forward as the doors opened. Cornelius Fudge. 'Uh oh.'
'This is not good.' Harry thought. 'He must have known I'd be coming here, and now is going to grab me for blowing up my aunt. I'd be lucky to be expelled after this! I could be sent to
jail! …Oh well. I'm stuck. I have to face my fate. It's not like I really believed I could get away with this crazy plan anyway. It's not like I even had a plan…' Taking a deep breathe, Harry
stepped down, and was surprised to discover that Fudge was just as surprised to see him as Harry was to see Fudge.
"Oh! Harry! You caught the Knight Bus? Quick thinking! Good work! We were worried about you, but I am rather relieved I shall now be able to tell the others you are safe and sound.
Don't worry about your Aunt. We all have our little episodes from time to time, no harm done. She's fine, and her memory adjusted of course, although I'm afraid your Aunt and Uncle
are not at all willing to have you back anytime in the next few weeks, so why don't you stay here at the inn until the school term begins? Your owl has already arrived… Rather smart
bird…I hope I don't seem rude, but I am supposed to be meeting someone…" Although his attention was solely focused on Harry at the beginning of the conversation, very quickly he
became distracted and kept trying to peer over Harry's shoulder, his sentences trailing off until he remembered he was in a conversation. Finally he pushed passed the young wizard
and called up "Ernie? Is the Elric boy aboard?" "Hmmm? Oh, you mean the mystery kid? Yeah, hold on. Let me wake him."
A moment later, the blonde boy appeared in the doorway, stifling a yawn and dragging a large briefcase that Harry assumed to be his luggage. He couldn't help noticing how short the
other was. The boy hurried down the last few steps, patted himself down until his hands grasped the dangling pocket watch and quickly shoved it back deep into his pockets, and then
ran up to meet the Minister and of all things saluted. The Minister smiled a wide grin of relief. "No need for that. I'm so glad you found your way here safely." Placing his arm over the
younger's shoulders, which was uncomfortably shifted off, the two walked away, deep in low voiced conversation. Harry could only watch them walk away, now even deeper intrigued
by who the boy was, and disappointed by the fact he would probably never get the chance to find out. "So long, Neville!" Stan waved one last time, and then the doors closed, and the
purple monstrosity on wheels sped away.
I'll do at least one more chapter before I sit and stubbornly wait for reviews, so there.