a/n: Basically, this is a HP/FMA crossover. This is a manga/brotherhood based Fullmetal Alchemist, by the way. And this takes place during HP5. Have to kick some Ministry butt, you know.

I don't own either series. Or at least, I don't think I do. But if I did it makes sense that I would remember that I do, so I don't think I do. Whatever. I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter.


The Truth deposited Ed on something hard. The white bastard hadn't let him sacrifice his alchemy, but had congratulated him on theoretically beating the Truth. Ed would almost go as far as to say that the Truth had acted like they were old friends playing chess and Ed had forgotten to say 'check', therefore not being allowed to count his win.

So instead, the Truth had retaken his arm for Al's soul, and transferred him to another dimension for Al's body. The Truth said that normally the dimension-changing would be a bit overboard, but since Ed would probably find a way back-to which Ed agreed-it actually did pay the correct price. So the price for Al's body wound up being only the time Ed spent away.

Although none of that meant he had any idea where the hell he was.

Ed glanced around, and immediately felt his stomach drop. True, he was fine with heights.

Just not several thousand feet off the ground.

He glanced around, searching for the easiest way off the roof he was sitting on, and edged closer to a corner. He grabbed the part where the two corners met, and slid himself into the gap, bracing himself with both feet. Ed glanced down again and sighed as he realized that there was no real way down.

Well, when in doubt, there's always alchemy-

He barely got the thought out before something flew over his head. His grip slipped, and he fell between the corners. Whatever had shot by had flown past in front, diving toward him in a diagonal slant. Ed outstretched both arms, and one of them grabbed a window sill. Through sheer luck, it was his automail arm; if it had been the other one, it would've been yanked out of its socket.

His left arm whipped up to assist his right, and both legs found perches below him. Ed turned his head, searching for whatever had disturbed his earlier position.

A woman was sitting in front of him on a broom stick.

He almost let go again, before he heard the Truth sigh. Ed looked around wildly, searching for the white being…that apparently wasn't there.

"It seems I forgot something about dimensional travel. It's been a while. It's something I have to give you if I choose this punishment," the Truth said. The question barely floated through Ed's mind before the Truth answered it.

"Knowledge."

Like the first time, things poured into Ed's head. This time, instead of alchemy, it was about the world he was in. Some magic crap…creatures not called chimeras…Ministry…and still more came.

He regained his normal vision in what may have only been seconds later, since the woman was still in the exact same position. He glanced at her, and something told him her name was Professor McGonagall. The same thing told him he was dangling from a building called Hogwarts. Hogwarts? Who came up with a name like that? Name a school after a pig and expect people to come to it? Nice.

He was probably supposed to say something to the professor, wasn't he? "Um…how do I get down?"

"Get down? How did you get up here in the first place?" McGonagall asked incredulously.

"No idea. Can I get down?" Ed asked again, glancing down from his precarious position. The professor nodded and pulled out a stick-wand, whatever-and said something in what was probably a random language-Latin. He felt himself being lowered, and though it was probably supposed to be gentle, he found it disgruntling to not be in control.

A minute or so later and he felt his feet touch the ground. The professor had followed him down, and landed as he sagged against a wall.

"What were you doing up there?" McGonagall asked immediately.

Three answers flickered through his mind immediately. 1: Trying not to get myself killed. 2: Hold on, busy readjusting my atoms after coming in from another dimension. Once all my brain particles are here, I'll fully answer that question. The third one seemed like the best response. "I…don't know," Ed said, putting on a confused expression.

"You do not know how you got here?" Professor McGonagall asked, bordering between confused and worried. "Then what's the last thing you remember?"

"I…I don't remember anything," Ed said, looking away. Anyone who knew him well enough knew he was lying from either a) seeing him act before and do a pretty damn good job or b) catching the evil glint in his eyes he got when he conned someone.

"Do you remember your name, by any chance?" McGonagall looked like she believed his story. After all, spells did sometimes backfire with odd results.

"…" No way in hell was he going by some name someone randomly made up for him. But saying that would be saying he did actually remember. "No."

Professor McGonagall smiled gently. "That's alright. You'll remember. Madame Pomfrey can probably give you something that will let you remember, or you'll just regain your memories on your own. Come. Let's speak to Headmaster Dumbledore."

Ed nodded, and followed her as they walked into the school. After a few minutes, Ed realized that if he didn't know who he was, why would he know where he was? "Where am I?"

"You're at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," she said promptly, and hesitated before turning down a hallway. "Headmaster Dumbledore will probably want Professor Snape with us." She told him to wait at the top of some stairs while she descended. A few minutes later, and she came back with a man who was introduced to him as Professor Snape, which Ed already knew.

They walked down a few more hallways before arriving at the feet of a very large stone griffin. Professor McGonagall said something very strange, and the griffin moved aside. The two professors and the alchemist walked up a circular staircase, and came into a room. Someone was sitting behind a desk in there: Professor Dumbledore. He looked up in slight surprise, gaze coming to rest on Ed.

"Do we have a new student?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his clasped hands on his desk.

"I do not know," Professor McGonagall responded. "I found him trying to climb down from our roof, and flew up on my broom to assist. He doesn't know who he is."

Headmaster Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "He doesn't?"

"Not a thing."

Dumbledore nodded. "Has he seen Madame Pomfrey yet?"

"No. I was planning on taking him there next," Professor McGonagall said. Dumbledore nodded, and waved all three down the stairs. He followed, and they walked to where Ed assumed the infirmary or whatever they called it was. Ed was still stuck on the whole 'Hogwarts' thing.

During the last few seconds in the walk to the medical ward, Dumbledore strode ahead. He called for Madame Pomfrey, who appeared from a door almost immediately. Dumbledore quickly explained, and Ed was subtly nudged forward by one of the two professors behind him.

Madame Pomfrey frowned slightly and nodded. "I'll get him something. If he still doesn't remember, he's either been cursed or he lost his memory from something traumatic, and it would either be best if he either didn't remember or remembered on his own." She walked to a small cabinet and pulled out a jar. She measured out an amount, and administered it to Ed.

He hoped there wouldn't be any odd side effects since he hadn't really lost his memory.

Luckily for him, nothing happened.

"Do you remember anything?" Madame Pomfrey pressed.

He shook his head. "No. Not a thing." Maybe he could slip in his name here… "Ed," he said suddenly, making the four adults look at him. "Yeah, Ed sounds about right."

"Your name?" Dumbledore confirmed, and Ed nodded. "Is that all?" Ed gave another nod. He was really itching to say something, but he was playing the part of a lost boy with no memory. Oh well. The time for snide remarks would come later. "It's a start," Dumbledore continued. "Hm…where shall we put you? Would you like to become a student here?"

Hell no. "I…get the feeling I don't get along well with other kids…" Ed said. Well, he didn't. But it was mostly the adults he couldn't stand. He'd really like to flash his military pocket watch at them. Except it wouldn't mean squat here.

Dumbledore nodded. "That's alright. Do you know how old you are?"

It would probably be a bit of a stretch. "No."

"I can probably tell," Madame Pomfrey said. She turned to Ed, and told him to open his mouth. After a few seconds, she said he was roughly fifteen or sixteen.

"All right. Do you know any magic?" Dumbledore asked.

Knowing that he could catch up quickly, Ed nodded.

"Do you have a wand?"

Er…big no. If he had been carrying a wand around in Amestris, they would've stuck him in a psychiatric ward. Hell, he was surprised they hadn't done that anyway. He probably would've driven the people who were taking care of the crazies crazy, though. Ed shook his head.

"We can get you one. Ministry law requires, however, that all minors go to school." Ed felt a tick mark on his head at a word that in any way implied 'small', but held it in. "School starts in a month and a half, so we'll see if we can teach you in a different way then being in a class full of students. We have a spare room."

Ed nodded. "I think I can deal with that." Bottling up attitude was not something Ed excelled in. He was more used to just punching people in the face.

Dumbledore nodded. "The new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher will be a Ministry official, so she might be able to help you figure out where your family is. We'll have to contact them as soon as possible. Hopefully they will send out a notice about your absence."

Ed felt like ice was dripping on his insides at the word 'family' and 'absence'. His only family was probably Al, since Hohenheim's Stone wouldn't survive much longer after being divided and fighting the Father. And the only other people he could count as his family were either mourning his death from their view, or preparing to run him over with something like a tank when he got back. They would have no idea where he was. Why would they?

So, yeah, his 'family' would need to be alerted if only so they would either stop digging his grave, or gearing up their tanks, or fists, or whatever else they planned to run him over/hit him with.

Since Ed didn't respond, there were a few moments of awkward silence before Snape led him to a spare room, and Dumbledore and McGonagall went to the Headmaster's office to talk.

"I believe there are books you can borrow in the trunk there," Snape said, gesturing to a trunk at the foot of the bed. Ed figured the books would be helpful, since while the Truth had provided him with the names of important people he'd need to know, which he probably could have figured out by himself, the Truth was lacking in the information about the actual usage of magic. "And clothes should be in there." He motioned to a wardrobe opposite the bed and trunk. "Good day." Snape turned and walked briskly from the room.

Ed had a feeling he would hate it there until the moment he left. Especially when he saw what was in the wardrobe. Robes? Really? What was this, the medieval ages?


Dumbledore and McGonagall talked quietly in the former's office.

"I do not know if he actually remembers or not. Names are sometimes the first thing that people with memory loss remember." McGonagall said.

"I agree with you. But I believe he is not cursed, but perhaps traumatized. There is great knowledge side by side and hand in hand with the weight of the world, a look I have seen only on few and rare occasions of some of the fiercest and strongest wizards," Dumbledore said. "I never thought I would see that look on a child of his age."

"From what I have heard of Umb-Professor Umbridge, we may need to find an excuse to be shielding him from the other students," McGonagall said the name of the Ministry official and her soon-to-be title with great disdain.

"Yes, yes we will," Dumbledore agreed. "But hopefully he will either remember, or his family will make an absence notice about him before then."

McGonagall nodded. "Shall we treat him like the other students? Or instead like an adult?"

Dumbledore paused. "It may be best to give him advice. I believe he is currently bottling his personality in exchange for learning about his surroundings at the moment, but once he settles in, he may figure out things on his own. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if he does before Harry and his friends. Yes, I think he can handle things in the position of an acting-adult. Which he appears to be very good at. He's not all that frightened about his memory loss."

McGonagall nodded. "When should we tell him?"

"When he starts showing his true personality," Dumbledore said, "which I suspect should be any time now."


Ed snored. By his head were two stacks of books, one finished and the other nearly done. So far, he'd read through up to the fifth year. He'd almost killed the nearby wall and stormed through it until he was given an answer about transfigurations, but had (somehow) managed to not take out his anger on the wall. Instead, he'd taken out his displeasure on the book by throwing the book across the room. After finishing all the other books in the first year, he'd reluctantly retrieved and finished it before moving on to the next year.

A small tug on his arm didn't in the slightest wake him. A slightly harder tug had the same effect. There was a small sigh, and then a snap. The finished books by Ed's head rose a few inches before dropping loudly back down on the table. He jerked up, looking around in surprise. His eyes settled on the house elf standing beside him.

"Huh…?" He said drowsily to no one in particular.

"Dobby has brought your lunch, sir," the house elf said.

Ed looked confused for a few seconds, before realizing that Dobby was actually speaking in third person. "Oh…thanks," he said, and nodded in appreciation at Dobby.

"You're welcome, sir."

"You don't need to call me that," Ed said, sighing. He'd really had enough of people calling him 'sir' all the time. It had taken him weeks of complaining about it for Lieutenants Ross and Brosch to get them to stop. He didn't want to have to do that again.

"Sir is most kind," Dobby said, completely ignoring what Ed had just said.

Ed sighed again. "Please just call me Ed."

The house elf didn't verbally respond, but instead nodded. A few minutes later of debating what Ed's real name was (Ed vs. sir), and the house elf Dobby left him to study his endless supply of useless crappy books, that had so far contradicted themselves two hundred and twenty-four times, borderlining damn near impressive.

A few hours later, with a finished lunch tray beside him, and he set aside his last book. With a groan, he rubbed his head and noticed with vague amusement that he hadn't bookmarked a single page. Normally, his books had tons of small slips of paper sticking out of them. That said something about how stupid kids were these days to be failing after reading books that easy. Or maybe it just said something about how the term 'child prodigy' was an understatement in Ed's case. Either way, who cared?

Someone knocked on the door. Ed made an acknowledgement, and the door opened. Dumbledore smiled at him, and nodded at the pile of books. "Did you finish all of them already?"

"Yeah. They weren't exactly all that hard," Ed said. He glanced up at the other person. "What is it?"

"As you may have figured, when school starts, tensions between one of our students, Harry Potter, and this Ministry official, Professor Dolores Umbridge, will be strained. Professor Umbridge will be trying to get Harry expelled from the school and unseat me from my position as Headmaster. The Ministry is feeling very threatened with whispers of Lord Voldemort being back. I will say that Harry says this is true, and I believe him. You can make your own decision. Because of this, we also have tensions between students about who's right and who's wrong," Dumbledore explained.

"So…?" Ed said, unsure what Dumbledore was asking, or what he wanted to achieve.

"Professor McGonagall and I thought it best if you knew ahead of time," Dumbledore said. "So you weren't launched into the middle of things without knowing."

Okay… "Er, thanks?" Once again, what were people thinking? Some poor kid's born, and what is the first thing his parents think? 'Oh, let's name the kid Voldemort! Which isn't a real name, and will probably turn him into some psychopath murderer.' "Who's the Ministry siding with?"

"The Ministry? They're not siding with Voldemort or Harry. They think Voldemort is still dead."

"So they…never mind. Some people are just born stupid, and there's nothing you can about it," Ed sighed. "Look, it's going to be boring just sitting around all day. If you want, I can pass the tests mentioned in there. If I can piss someone off who deserves it, I'd be a lot happier. I'll help you and the Order of the Phoenix."

Dumbledore nodded. "You figured it out that fast?"

Ed shrugged. "I'm good at figuring stuff like that out. If there's a conspiracy theory, I know about it. If there's a secret organization helping a kid fight some lunatic, I know about it. If some dead guy's now a zombie, I know about it." Or the Truth happened to provide those two little details.

"Thank you for your assistance, Ed," Dumbledore said. He smiled again, and then walked from the room.


a/n: The whole thing with not saying 'check' in chess was something that happened to me. I'd only played once or twice, and I ended up playing with someone at a camp I went to. I think he said he was one of his school's competitors, and he might have just been ticked that I beat him on accident by killing his king with a pawn, so I'm not sure if that's correct.

And yes, I do know 'Voldemort' isn't his real name. I just wanted to poke some fun at it.

I had a bunch of period/quote issues that I cleared up, and I'm also going back through all my writings and editing everything again. I should be typing, but this is something that's commonly known as 'PROCRASTINATION'.