The Order of the Phoenix was in a serious panic. Digging as deeply into Ministry documents as they could, nothing could be found on the Elric boy. Nothing could be found on this Ametris either. In reality they were entering this whole situation completely blind. Was the boy truly a muggle? There was absolutely no way they could simply obliviate him and leave him in the muggle word, he had no idea what England was and had a freakish ability to learn quickly. He'd probably rustle up far more trouble simply by walking around talking to people than even the least muggle-minded wizard or witch.

This was what made Moody so very, very suspicious.

How the boy had come to be still remained a mystery, one that Moody burned to get to the bottom of. Yet, Dumbledore's orders stood. The boy was being transported to the old Headquarters, as all the magic had finally been worked out. With Harry as the new owner of 12 Grimmauld Place, all the old incantations had been broken, and it'd taken a few days to replace all the spell that protected the building.

And so Moody was escorting the Elric boy with Kinsley and two other Order members away from the Weasley home, where a portkey was awaiting them. So far, the boy had been extremely placid, which only served to put Moody more ill at ease. Every guard the former auror had was up, his eye whirling back and forth to watch every movement Edward made. Several hundred metres away from the house, they found an old tea kettle nestled behind some reeds.

This was it, now or never.

Edward watched carefully as all his guards placed a hand on a kettle, and his hand was forced against it too. An unfamiliar buzz of energy came off it, making the former alchemist's skin crawl. The sun just began breaking the horizon as he felt the energy surge. For the first time that morning Edward moved quickly, his breath trailing out from his clenched teeth as he ripped his hand away just as the others disappeared.

For a moment Edward stood perfectly still, his brain skipping over what had just happened. What had just happened? Pushing the theories back as to where they're went, Edward ran back towards the house. It was still early, and if he was quiet enough he could arm himself and begin running before they got back.

In moments Edward was at the door, and he turn the knob carefully. Locked. For a brief moment he studied the lock, it was similar to the one Winry's family had on their door. Nothing particularity hard, if you held the knob up, twisted counterclockwise and-

The door creaked free of the frame. Old houses tend to have old locks. Edward thought. He pulled up his memories of being in the house once before, and followed his previous footsteps to the kitchen. What the fuck had been going on? What sort of operation were these people running, out of an old century house, keeping him in a cellar?

Softly Edward made his way through the drawers, making sure to muffle his sounds. He needed to rearm himself, his old knife had proved to be weak and snapped the night before as he sharpened it. He needed something... Anything.

Just a quick and easy in and out was all he needed.

Harry couldn't sleep. His mind was racing with thoughts of what would happen over the course of the year, what possible things he could learn. Deep in his daydreaming his mind ignored his stomach until finally it growled so ferociously at him he had to take notice. The house was still cold from the night as Harry rolled out of bed, placing his feet on the old wood floors.

I wonder what Snape will think of Slughorn as DA teacher... Harry though as he drew on a house coat and slippers. He looked over to the mountain of covers and limbs that was Ron. That boy really could sleep through thunderstorms. Harry wondered briefly if he should whisper something about spiders to his best friend, just to freak him out in his dreams, but thoughts of toast banished the idea.

Maybe when he got back.

Or maybe he should have some leftovers from last night. Mrs. Weasley had made homemade pasta with pesto from the garden, and there was probably still some left...

A creak against the floorboards downstairs made Harry freeze, his ankles cold between his socks and flannel pants. Something instantly didn't feel right, if Mrs. Weasley had been up it would smell like breakfast, and the sky was only just beginning to lighten.

The creak of the front door drew Harry's attention. Someone was in the kitchen, someone that wasn't supposed to be. Harry reached for his wand, grateful for once that the Weasley's didn't have matches in the house and he's thought to bring it for the stove (Harry sat at the table, watching Mrs. Weasley light the stove. "Why don't you use matches?" Mr. Weasley's excited reply: "Sticks that light fire! I've heard of those, some wizards say-" and the drone of a memory forgotten).

Carefully Harry pointed his wand around the corner, before stepping out into the kitchen. A blur a movement and Harry was face to face with a boy roughly his age, one hand drawn back the other forward with a butcher knife against his forearm and both feet firmly planted, ready to attack.

Both the teens were equally surprised by what they turned around to see. Harry didn't know what to make of the boy, his golden eyes hard and alert, taking in his every move. Before either could fully react the front door slammed against the front hall wall, Moody standing red faced and flustered in the doorway with several Order members behind him.

The next few seconds were a blur to Harry. Suddenly, his arm twisted with pain and he dropped his wand, and somehow the boy now held his hand tightly behind his back and the knife to his throat.

Everyone froze.

"Boy, if you lay one hand on him-"

"Vut?" Edward interrupted Moody, his voice sneering. "Dis boy iz inporevntch?" Moody raised his wand but the golden eyed boy pressed the knife closer. "Ubdectin' dez people iz vrong. Keednapper." Harry tried not to swallow, tried to fight the pain in his arm, but the other boy's grip was tight. Did he work for Voldemort, why was he alone? Questions raced through Harry's mind.

Moody snarled, the boy was back up against a corner, with no window nearby. He had a perfect frontal position. There was no way they could fire a spell at his without possible hitting Harry and the Elric boy seeing it coming. The damn boy was a snake, a deceptive serpent. Rage boiled in the old auror. No child should be able to get the better of him...

"All I vant iz huaz. Take frumm huaz. Keednapper." Harry could hardly understand the boy's thick accent, let alone the intent of his speech. What was he saying, kidnapper? Harry's mind swam with thoughts as to what the boy could mean. Was he the kidnapper, or the Order?

"I really don't think this is necessary." The grip on Harry tightened as the Order let Dumbledore pass. Harry could hear the boy grind his teeth at the sight of the headmaster. Harry on the other hand, felt almost weak with relief.

"Verdammcht lüngner. Zie entführten mitch zie arschlotch!" The boy snapped. "Yoo druog me." Tension hung in the air, beads of blood resting against Harry's neck. As one became heavy enough it rolled down the swell of his Adam's Apple and down his shirt.

"We were only trying to find out where you were from. We are trying to return you home. We want nothing more than for your to return to your family. But the only way we can do that is if you put down the knife and come with us now." Dumbledore's voice was extremely calm, almost uninterested in what was happening. But his pale blue eyes never left Edward, his focus so intent it made the former alchemist want to look away.

"Nein trustch." Edward stated blandly. "Gleitchwertinger aunstaustch olde mann. Vone ding teel me, vone ding teel yoo. Vut doin' to fvind huaz? De home?"

Just as there always had been, for a moments' pause Dumbledore stood still, trying to understand what Edward had said to him. The words finally clicked. "We're looking everywhere for your Amestris. We have searched every document, and we're now looking into our own library, in our own books."

Edward lowered his knife a moment. "Bookes? Vords? Me vreed diz bookes? Vhere?"

Everyone breathed a little easier to see Edward was calming down. It seems he was extremely interested in reading.

"Our school, it has one of the largest libraries on the continent. If you lower your weapon now I would be happy to show you." Dumbledore didn't move as Moody stiffened even more, if it was possible. "Dumbledore, is that-" A raise of the headmaster's hand cut the old auror off and he suppressed a snarl. The danger he was putting the children in by even bringing the boy there...

Edward suddenly seemed to become aware of himself once more, and moved the knife away from Harry and shoved the Chosen One forward towards the Dumbledore. He whipped the blood off onto his pants before slipping the knife into his boot, giving the old man a hard stare. He was keeping his weapon in case he needed it, and dared the old bastard to take it from him.

Dumbledore smiled, putting his arm out to indicate the door. "I'm glad you made the right choice-"

"Fuck yoo." Edward spat.

Author's Note: I'm really sorry about the wait, I had exams and all that jazz, so fun times. Don't worry, Edward is not going to have any sort of faculty involvement where he's going... :)

When I orininally wrote this I totally forgot I'd already given Edward a knife, so I had to revisit this and change it... Continuacy and all that...