Harry pulled yet another leather-bound book off of the lowest shelf from the bookcase. He skimmed through it carefully, making sure he didn't accidentally tear any of the yellowed pages. It was clearly an old book, but maybe it contained information that hadn't been in the other texts. He needed to do research in order to perfect a potion that was due in two weeks, not that he was sure it'd even matter. No matter how hard he worked and studied, Snape would never give him a fair grade.

Hogwarts was his true home, it was supposed to be his safe haven. Lately, however, he was filled with dread. In addition to Snape's prejudiced behavior against him, Harry had the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor to worry about. Lockhart was a poor excuse for a teacher, but at least he didn't berate Harry at any given chance. Honestly, he wasn't sure which of the classes he hated more, they were both fairly awful.

'Alihotsy Draught- Inhaling the blue fumes causes hysteria. For antidote, turn to page 348.' Harry flipped the page with a sigh. As much fun as a potion causing madness sounded, it was not the one he was looking for. He glanced at one page that described a brew that caused the victim to burst out in an uncontrollable fit of yelling. That's not the information he needed, either.

'Latvian warlock and artist, Andris Lapa, is most well known for his transfigurations of decorative leaves. In 1567, Lapa studied in Paris, France with Nicolas Flamel in order to learn the ancient secrets of alchemy. While the Elixir of Eternal Life was obtained, it was not created without the help of magic. To this day, very little is known about the true ways of alchemy. In 1569, Lapa returned to his hometown, abandoning his research of alchemy in favor of potion making and artwork.' Harry set the book down and massaged his temples. At this rate, he'd never figure out how to properly make the assigned potion.

He grabbed the various books he accumulated and put them away the best he could. A couple of them did have a description of the potion in question, so he set them aside to look into later. With a yawn, Harry stretched his arms and looked around the library. It seemed a little bit dimmer than when he had arrived, he quickly turned to look at the grandfather clock behind him. He looked at it with a horrified expression; he was late to his detention by fifteen minutes.

He'd hoped that the mental scarring from crashing Arthur Weasley's flying car into an angry tree would have been considered punishment enough. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. As further discipline, he was supposed to serve detention with Lockhart, signing autographs no less. Thus far, his second year of school wasn't off to a bright start. Hopefully things would start turning for the better soon.

Harry quickly gathered up his books and scattered quills, he haphazardly slung his robe over his shoulders. Once he was positive he had everything, he scurried his way out of the aisle so he wouldn't be any more tardy to his detention. Admittedly, he wasn't paying all that much attention to his surroundings and he promptly bumped right into a fellow student.

He didn't recognize the boy, he looked to be older than himself. The stranger had long blond hair that flowed messily around his shoulders, he seemed to be weatherworn. While his features appeared to be weary, his yellow eyes were alarmingly bright and fierce.

"I'm sorry, I'll help with those." Harry sputtered then reached down to pick up the splayed notebooks. He looked at the student once more and he silently gasped when he saw his robes were black and green; a Slytherin! Appalled, Harry took a step backwards and released his grip on the boy's book.

"Hyilec enu." The Slytherin squinted, frowned, and then started shuffling his hands in his large robe pockets. Harry figured he was searching for his wand in order to cast a hex or a curse at him for intruding on his space and spilling his books. Instead of waiting to see what horrible thing the student had in store for him, he dashed as quickly as he could out of the library. He wouldn't realize until later that night that the odd kid hadn't spoken in any language he knew.

June 6th

Mykola Bawolak checked his equation once more after what felt like the thousandth time. The enormous circle carved into the flat ground was flawless, not a line was out of place. The stones within the circle were neat and tidy, it was perfect. Four triangles were the most notable thing inside the circle, the flat ends connected and created a square in the center. Between the triangles, there were various circles inlet with runes carefully carved into the nutrient-rich black soil. In the middle, there was a gold plate with both magical and alchemical equations painted upon it. All that was left to be done was to activate it.

"Hey, Myka!" He couldn't stop himself from smiling, only one person in the world called him by that nickname. His best friend, Ruslan, stood by his side and leaned against him as he caught his breath. "You weren't thinking of starting without me, were you?"

"I wouldn't dream of it." Ruslan straightened himself and he glanced at the circle. Mykola crinkled his nose when he noticed his friend smelled faintly like steamed cabbage. "Where have you been? I was starting to get worried."

"There was a festival at the memorial this afternoon, I figured I'd visit town to pay my respects."

"In other words, you let your stomach make decisions for you again?" Mykola playfully punched his friend's arm and let out a chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah." Ruslan rolled his eyes and patted his gut. "You know I can't resist a homemade meal. Anyway, we're really doing this." They both let their eyes fall back to the circle. If this failed, it'd likely end in bloodshed. They'd already been given two warnings to cease their pursuits in alchemy, but they couldn't stop now, especially since they were this close to learning the old ways.

If this succeeded, his country's wizards and witches would stop being the laughing stock of the wizarding world. They were technically in Koldovstoretz school's district, that's where all of the young wizards in his region received their school letters from. Due to moral reasons, at least ninety percent of those acceptance letters were rejected by the parents. Because of that, mostly everyone was homeschooled and they were unfairly looked down on as a result. Several times over the past century, there had been proposals to build a new school in northern Romania, but every motion was inevitably rejected. No one thought the non-Russian Slavs were worth their time or money. If Mykola and Ruslan could make a significant breakthrough, like discovering the true way of alchemy, they'd be able to get the respect and fundings to start up a new school.

Failure wasn't an option.

Ruslan grabbed Mykola's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Both of their hearts raced as adrenaline started to kick in. Once the spell was enacted, they'd only have an hour to collect their findings before the Russian Ministry of Magic sent their attack aurors after them. They planned on fleeing to Namibia, where they were promised safety as long as they shared their extensive research. It wasn't as if they wanted to keep the information to themselves, they wanted to share it to help benefit whoever they could.

"We can do this." Ruslan urged Mykola as he patted his hand gently.

"We must." Mykola responded and he took out his wand. It was an old maple wand, one that was passed down from his grandfather. The end of it was worn down enough that a little piece of the dragon heart-string poked out, but that didn't seem to hinder its abilities by much. It wasn't a nice or fancy wand by any means, but he was rather fond of it.

The young men stood on opposite sides of the circle and pointed their wands at the center. They began the enchantment, making sure not to fumble or stutter any of the words. One slip of the tongue was all it took to ruin the spell. As they droned on, the circle started emitting a faint golden light. Flashes of yellow and white sparked from the array, as well as a thick purple mist. It floated about harmlessly, darkening gradually as seconds turned into minutes. The cloud took on a black color and rumbled like a gentle beat of a bass drum. A streak of blue lightning burst from the haze followed shortly after by a high-pitched ring. Mykola grabbed his forearm, it was caked in blood, but he did not falter with the incantation. Across from him, he noted Ruslan's arm also had a large gash in it. The alchemy portion of the summon seemed to have rebounded, but that didn't mean spell itself was complete.

After what seemed like hours, the friends completed the incantation. They went onto their knees, both were physically strained because of the powerful display of magic. The circle ceased glowing and the gloomy mist dissipated with the passing breeze. To his disappointment, Mykola didn't feel as if he had gained a vast amount of knowledge about the old ways of alchemy. The spell was supposed to grant the two of them instant information, but it seemed to have failed.

"Myka!" Ruslan shouted then rushed to his injured friend's side. "Episkey." He muttered while pointing his wand at their identical wounds, healing them quickly.

"Are you alright?" Mykola asked between his heavy breaths. He'd never felt this drained while performing magic before.

"I'll be fine. We need to get out of here." No doubt the aurors were already after them. They barriers and charms they had set up to keep wizards and muggles out would only work for so long.

"It didn't work." Mykola grumbled as he worked his way onto his feet. All of their hard work and effort was for naught. It was nauseating.

"Come on." Ruslan offered his arm for support. "What should we do about him?"

"What?" He was confused, there were only the two of them, or at least that was how it was supposed to be. Ruslan pointed to the center of the circle, and sure enough, there was the small form of a child lying unconsciously in it. Had they somehow screwed up the runes and created a summoning array? Surly that wasn't it, their work had been impeccable. "Is he a wizard?"

Ruslan shrugged and they cautiously approached the boy, who seemed to be severely lacking in the proper clothes for the cold environment. He was wearing only a flimsy tank top and leather pants. That sometimes happened to young wizards when they were still learning how to apparate, parts of their clothes would disintegrate, but there hadn't been the classic popping noise that accompanied it. Mykola loosened his robe and draped it over the child.

"I've never seen prosthetics like those before." Ruslan commented while looking around for signs of danger. The artificial arm was strange, he didn't think muggles had created anything like it before. They somehow must have summoned an underaged wizard, but they really didn't have the time to think on it.

"We brought him into this mess, it wouldn't be fair to leave him to the aurors. We can send him home when we're safe." Ruslan nodded in agreement and scooped the child into his arms. They hastily apparated and they found themselves in a warm forest clearing somewhere outside of Barcelona. The boy wriggled and blinked his eyes open.

"Entu fer anu?" The child asked with a panicked look in his eyes. He broke himself free from Ruslan's arms and stared at them like they were a pair of rabid dogs.

"What did you say?" Ruslan asked while tightening the grip on his wand.

"Enit fera ani?" Mykola knew a fair amount of languages aside from his own; English, Latin, Swahili, Spanish, French, Korean, and a little bit of Arabic. He could also converse with kikimoras and leshies to an extent. Even knowing those languages, he was at a loss to what the child was trying to say.

Ruslan must have thought the same and he casted a translation spell over the kid.

"Entu fer anu!?" The child repeated with more urgency and anger. That was strange, the translation spell should have worked, unless he was speaking nonsense and not an actual language. Ruslan raised his wand again, likely trying out a different spell. The kid lashed out and tore the wand out of Ruslan's hand, tossing it aside while saying more incomprehensible words. Mykola took out his wand, prepared to defend himself and his friend. The child clapped and slammed his hands against the ground. There was a flash of blue and a faint ring, similar to the one that sounded during the summon. The earth seemed to sink in on itself, then a large pillar of rock emerged, knocking both him and Ruslan over backwards. Before he could regain his balance, the child sprinted away and vanished into the woods.

"What the hell just happened?" Ruslan questioned while rubbing his sore forehead.

"We need to go after him before someone else finds him. He can't end up in the wrong hands." Mykola explained while brushing the dirt off of his shirt. These days, there was a lot of turmoil and tension in the western European countries. If any of the ministries captured the boy, he'd likely be used for their own selfish reasons. He could admit that his own intentions weren't the purest, but he didn't know he'd be bringing a person's life into the mix, he only wanted at the very most some ancient texts to learn from. He wouldn't use a fellow human for his own gain.

"Why's that?"

"We didn't fail after all, my friend." He strode in the direction the boy ran off into, Ruslan stayed close by his side. Their effort and time spent on their research hadn't been a failure, they succeeded. "That was a true alchemist."

Author's Note: Hey, so I'm starting up this new crossover. At first glance it seems like it's another student/Ed story, but I plan on going a different route with this. I hope you enjoy, and please tell me what your thoughts are!

Also, I'm doing the FMA secret santa this year. If you're interested in signing up, look up the tumblr blog fullmetalsecretsanta. The deadline is the 2nd, so this coming Friday. It'll be lots of fun, so think about joining!