Hello! This is my third (fourth?) fic on this site, and this is a rewrite; I'm going over the original. For those of you who have read this before, there are no significant changes to the first three chapters; I changed the punctuation for a few things and added a few sentences. I also fixed the thing about werewolves having golden eyes. For those of you who are new to this story, thank you for reading.

This is after the end of FMA Brotherhood, and Ed still has his alchemy and automail. What does Truth take in exchange for Al's body? Well, you'll see!

(Disclaimer: I don't own FMA or HP.)

The Thing is in Progress

"Have you heard?" James asked, feigning a lazy yawn as the Marauders strolled down the train, looking for an available compartment. Strangely enough, all of the compartments they'd passed so far didn't have enough space for the four of them.

"What? That rumour about an alchemy class?" Sirius drawled, uninterested. "That's a load of rubbish. Alchemy's a dead magic, and a bloody useless one, too."

"Hm," James replied, pondering his friend's words, "You're no fun, Padfoot. Just think about it!"

Sirius shot him a smirk.

"Why're all of these compartments full - oh! This one's not!" Sirius opened the door to a mostly empty compartment.

The sole inhabitant was a golden-haired teen with their nose in a book.

"Do you mind if we sit here?" Remus asked quietly.

"Nah," the person shrugged, glancing absently up from their book to regard them with keen golden eyes. Golden? Remus tucked the thought away to address later.

The Marauders filed in, stacking their luggage on the overhead rack and sitting down.

"But don't you think it would be interesting? Alchemy, I mean. Turning lead into gold and all!" James resumed his earlier line of thought.

Remus noticed the blonde twitch.

"I suppose, Prongs, but why would they teach us that sort of stuff?" Remus said. "It's a dead magic - there's hardly any use!"

James sighed and turned his attention to the window. It was only for a moment, then a thought suddenly struck him. "Say, are you a first-year? I don't think I've seen you around Hogwarts-"

The blonde scoffed. "What a ridiculous name." They could make out a smile behind his book.

"I guess it is, isn't it?" Sirius asked, eyes glinting amusedly and mouth pulled up into a smirk. "Wonder who came up with it?"

The long-haired blonde shot back with an equally devious expression before offering a gloved hand to the dark-haired teen. "Edward Elric. Call me Ed."

"Sirius Black," he took the blonde's hand.

"James Potter," James grinned, eyes lighting up.

Remus smiled a bit wearily and waved. "Remus Lupin."

"P-Peter Pettigrew!" Peter squeaked.

Remus leaned slightly towards Ed. "What were you reading?"

"A History of Hogwarts," Ed said, tripping up on the last word. "At first I thought all this magic stuff was a load of bullshit, but…" he trailed off, shrugging.

By now they had assumed that he was a first-year. Who else would be so clueless about magic?

"You're a Muggleborn?" Remus asked, surprised. With his air and elegant features, he'd seemed a bit pure-blooded.

Ed grinned slightly. "I guess you could say that."

"So what house do you want to be in?" James asked.

"If I had to pick, I'd say Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor."

James brightened even more. "Brilliant! You didn't pick Slytherin! It would be a shame for such a promising youngster-" At this, Remus noticed that Ed's face darkened, though he couldn't imagine why- "-to be lost to the clutches of the house of the Great Slimy Git."

"I've met my fair share of bastards. Can't say I don't enjoy pissing them off," Ed leaned back, fingers tapping idly on A History of Magic. He flipped it open again and continued reading. The Marauders, taking that as a sign that the conversation was over, scooted closer together and launched themselves into an argument about which one of their professors was worse.

. . .

Internally, Ed was freaking out. These wizard bastards were weird! It wasn't just the existence of magic, no, now they had castles for schools and giant squids and Truth knew what else!

It was then that Ed came to an obvious and unsurprising conclusion: Wizards were fucking insane.

So, with an inaudible sigh and a mental reminder of a potential court-martial, Edward Elric resigned himself to his fate.

. . .

After they got off the train, the Marauders lost sight of Ed. Not that they were surprised, he was probably a first-year and would be in the boats with the other midgets. It gave them ample time to discuss the blonde as they rode in the horseless carriage towards Hogwarts.

"He has golden eyes," Remus remarked, "Odd, don't you reckon? They're like the eyes of the werewolf that…"

"Why don't you ask him about it? If he is, you can reassure him that his secret's safe with a fellow werewolf, and if he isn't, don't tell him," Sirius suggested absently, flipping through a worn Muggle magazine about motorbikes.

"Well, that's a problem for another time, mate," James said. "Do you think he'd be any good at Quidditch?"

"Maybe," Sirius said, eyes glinting excitedly at the prospect of playing Quidditch, "He gives the impression of someone who's down with a few pranks. What d'you think about making him our protégé?"

"Let's ask him later," James said.

"His hair's very long," Peter offered hesitantly, a complete non sequitur.

. . .

Ed was pissed. Very pissed. And soaking wet. "Hey!" He shouted. "You little bastard!"

A small, ugly, flying man with an armful of balloons cackled. "Look who's talking, pipsqueak!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING PEA-SIZED, DAMMIT!"

The first-years watched the spectacle, wide-eyed. Ed was jumping (rather awkwardly), trying to catch Peeves. It was difficult without alchemy (Mustang's directions had been annoyingly specific, leaving no loopholes for Ed to use it) and with his imbalanced limbs, jumping was hard. "Dammit!" Ed cried again, angrily.

"Young man!" Minerva McGonagall's voice rang through the hall, disapproving. "Peeves! Stop this at once!"

With a feigned pout followed by a snicker, Peeves zoomed away, leaving a smoldering Ed.

"You're the transfer from Amestris, correct?" The austere-looking woman asked, frowning. "Edward Elric?"

"Yeah," Ed replied, "Call me Ed." The golden-haired alchemist shot one last glare in the direction Peeves had shot off in.

"Very well." She added loudly, "Come this way! First-years! Follow me!"

With apprehensive expressions, the first-years followed behind the tall woman and the dripping blonde through the large, ornate golden doors that lead to the Great Hall.

. . .

"Look, there the midget is! Looks like Peeves got him!" Sirius remarked, amusement shining in his dark eyes.

"He's not wearing his robes," Remus remarked with a frown, shooting a glance at Professor McGonagall, who, indeed, looked displeased at Ed's attire.

"I'm surprised McGonagall didn't bite his head off," James responded, "His clothes are odd."

It was true; Ed was wearing black leather pants, heavy boots, a long red coat, and white gloves. Not to mention, he was scowling and slouching, something McGonagall disapproved of immensely. The Transfiguration teacher's lips were pressed tightly together, and she was glaring rather pointedly at the blonde

As the first years finished murmuring in awe at the enchanted ceiling, Dumbledore stood up - an unusual occurrence, since he typically saved his speech for after the Sorting. "Before we welcome the first-years to Hogwarts, I'd like to announce that in an arrangement with the nation of Amestris, Hogwarts has opened it's doors to Colonel Roy Mustang-"

At Dumbledore's sweeping gesture, a dark-eyed man with short black hair, a smug expression, and a stiff blue uniform stood up for a moment before taking his seat again.

"-Who will be teaching alchemy, available to third-years and up-"

He fell silent as the Great Hall filled with excited muttering.

"It wasn't just a rumor!" James crowed, poking Sirius. "You were wrong, Padfoot!"

Sirius chuckled. "We're sixth-years. That means we can take it."

"I haven't heard of Amestris before," Remus mused, "I think I'll head to the library after the feast."

James sighed, grinning a little, "You and your bloody books, Moony."

After the hall fell back into silence, Dumbledore resumed his speech.

"-And Major Edward Elric, who will be joining the student body as a sixth-year. If you would," he gestured to Ed, who stepped up onto the raised floor. He was still dripping with water.

"Ed?" James asked, "Wait - Major?"

The golden-haired teen walked up to the Sorting Hat, which looked especially battered and dirty in the light cast by innumerable floating candles. "Please, call me Ed," He chuckled, unafraid of the burning curiosity of the student body, "Usually if someone's using my full name, they're trying to kill me. So, I put this hat on?" The blonde asked, eyeing the hat before he shrugged.

And with that, he hopped onto the stool and dropped the hat on his head, where it slid down over his eyes.

. . .

You're very cunning, the hat muttered, and Ed started a little. And ambitious. You could be a Slytherin. But you're also intelligent, with a good work ethic - when you think it's important. Loyal. Brave.

Is this the work of a soul-bind? Ed wondered. It's very advanced. I doubt I could make it.

Yes, very intelligent indeed - and curious, too. The hat commented. Honestly, I don't remember anymore. Too many years have gone by. It switched topics again. I see a lot of bravery in you, though. Even to the point of reckless idiocy.

Haha, that's true. Ed chuckled.

Best put you in- "Gryffindor!" The hat shouted.

There was a round of confused applause and cheering from the Gryffindor table, and as Ed walked down to an empty seat - conveniently situated by the Marauders - he looked over his shoulder to see Mustang's smug smirk. Why did he always look so smug?

The alchemist sat down absentmindedly, and subsequently, he jumped when Sirius leaned over with a grin and said loudly - the Sorting Hat had begun it's longwinded song - "Welcome to Gryffindor, Major Ed. You're in our year, so we can show you around."

Ed grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "Thanks."

"What's up with that?" James asked, "Major? Colonel?"

"Yeah, Amestris is a military nation."

"But you're so tiny!" James exclaimed. Wrong choice of words.

"DAMMIT, I'M SIXTEEN! WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO TINY THAT YOU COULD SQUASH HIM UNDER YOUR SHOE?!"

A momentary lull in the hubbub around them went unnoticed as Remus leaned across James, concerned, and not put off in the slightest by his outburst. "Sixteen? And in the military?! Isn't that dangerous? Aren't you a bit young?"

"I'm in a ... special branch. There wasn't an age limit since they didn't think a twelve-year-old could meet the requirements for the exam. I'm a genius," Ed told them proudly, lacing his gloved fingers behind his head.

"You joined when you were twelve?" James asked, eyes lighting up. "Didn't your parents think it was dangerous?"

"Parents? Who said anything about parents?" Ed scowled, golden eyes flashing.

"You ran away?" Peter asked. He, who had reasonably well-off, kind (if not a bit negligent) parents, could never dream of running away.

"Nah. My dad's a good-for-nothing bastard who left us when we were young. He didn't even come to our mom's funeral."

"Oh," James said, taking note of Ed's gloomy tone and darkened expression.

They fell into silence, turning their attention back up to the front of the hall, where the last first-year was being Sorted. "Avaro, Maiza!" A pause, then, "Ravenclaw!"

Dumbledore rose again. "I'd like to remind you all that the Forbidden Forest is exactly that - forbidden. A few of you would do well to remember." His blue eyes landed briefly on the Marauders before he continued.

"Mr. Filch would also like me to remind you, for what he tells me is the one-hundred and thirty-seventh time, that spells are banned in the halls, along with a number of other things that are in a list tacked to your announcement boards and in his office. Lastly, I am happy to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark arts teacher, Professor Michaelis!"

At his words, a tall, dark-haired woman in a black blazer, slacks, and a white dress shirt stood up, inclined her head slightly, and sat down again.

"Now, let us dig in!" Dumbledore smiled broadly before taking his seat.

. . .

"We get a new Defense teacher every year," Sirius said conversationally as he reached for a roll from a platter that had appeared before them just seconds ago.

"The position's cursed," Peter put in.

"How does it work?" Ed asked, tearing himself away from glaring ferociously at a jug of milk, then muttered something that sounded like, 'Equivalent exchange'.

"What? The food? House-elves down in the kitchens make it and send it up. Wizards can't make everything appear out of thin air, you know."

"Dammit," Ed groaned, slumping in his seat, his expression an odd mixture of relieved and disappointed. "So it's really only the Philosopher's stone. Damn."

"Philosopher's Stone?" Remus asked, adding the words to the growing list of things he had to look up. That reminded him of the question he had to ask Ed. He could do it later, after all, it was only him, Sirius, James, Peter, and now Ed in the sixfth-year boy's dorm.

"Nothing," Ed said, "So, elves? You wizards really do like to make everything magical."

"What do you mean? Aren't you a wizard?" James asked, a forkful of chicken halfway to his mouth.

"I'm an - yeah." Ed grinned. Sirius narrowed his eyes suspiciously. What had Ed been about to say? The long-haired blonde leaned over to grab a soup ladle, glaring at a nearby jug of milk as he did so. Remus, who had been sitting next to him, caught sight of an odd symbol on the back of his long coat; a cross with a snake curled around it and a three-pointed crown over it.

Yet another curiosity to research in the library. Remus sighed and rubbed his eyes, already mentally preparing for the rigorous search he was going to do after dinner.

. . .

"Here's our dorm. The luggage should already be in there," James told Ed brightly, throwing open a door. Between the many moving paintings (Ed even saw a giraffe loping calmly through frames), moving staircases, and hidden traps, it had been further verified in Ed's mind that wizards were crazy, so stepping into the room without something weird happening was a relief.

The room was circular, with a doorway leading to what Ed guessed was a bathroom, and five four-poster beds set evenly along the stone walls, each with piles of luggage at the foot and a small table by its side.

"Great," Ed yawned, stretching. "I could really use some sleep. We don't start classes early tomorrow, do we?"

"No," James replied, running a hand through his thick black hair. "We get our class schedules at breakfast, but that's not very early. Are you going to unpack?" He added, watching as Ed flopped down on his bed with a groan.

"Nah." Ed scooted farther back onto the bed and swung his leg up. Getting to his knees, fully dressed, he pulled his curtains shut.

Shrugging, James looked at Peter and Sirius, who were either crouching by their bags or lounging in a sitting position on their bed. Walking up to Ed's curtains, he heard a faint snoring. "He's asleep," he said with astonishment. "I guess Moony can just ask him tomorrow. Wanna sneak out after Moony gets back?"

Thanks for reading! Please review!

Well, until next time, then, I bid you adieu.