A/N So this is an FMA/HP crossover (duh), which is something I have long wanted to write, and have finally decided to just do. So this is set in Brotherhood, after Ed gets stabbed with that beam, and uses his soul to heal it. And during the sixth year of HP, so that the gang are all the same age. this will also be Roy/Ed in later chapters, so if that's not your cup of tea, be warned. Please R&R, and I hope you enjoy!

Edward blinked his eyes open to blinding light and a piercing ringing noise in his ears. Everything was grey, and blurred, and a dangerous numbness held his body captive. It was the kind of numbness that you can tell is masking something, but Ed's mind was apparently severely fucking rattled, because he couldn't seem to be bothered enough to try and figure out what was wrong. He felt like he was… floating on clouds or some shit, empty, ethereal, unattached to reality or to the living.

That was kind of a sobering thought, and Ed realized through all the fog and cobwebs and sluggishness in his useless fucking brain that he needed to snap out of it. Like, pronto. With a concerted effort, ed forced the rusty, clogged up gears into motion, forcing his tired mind to think. Think, Ed! Where are you? What happened?

With a jolt, it came back to him. The cold, the snow, chasing Kimblee, the fight, falling and then -

Here.

Ed's mind didn't need any more prompting, it was instantly up and racing at full capacity, racing, trying to figure out what had happened, and what his next plan of action should be.

His body was still strangely numb, and ed struggled to shift his hands underneath him, trying to lever himself up. He lifted his head, and took in his surroundings. Stark stone walls, and piles of rubble all around. A metal beam dropped from somewhere above and clattered to the floor a few feet away.

"I must've fallen down the mine shaft," he muttered to himself, redoubling his efforts to rise. If he stayed here too long, there was a good chance that the falling rubble would finish Kimblee's job for him. His body still refused to obey him, and Ed felt anger clenching in his chest.

"Dammit!" He cursed, forcing his unwilling body to rise a few shaky inches. "I can't let Kimblee get away," One more shove, and his arms were locked straight against the ground. Nearly there… if he could just get his feet underneath him…

But then he heard the soft patter of liquid falling to the hard floor beneath him, and he tensed. Something thick and sweet and tangy with copper rose up in his throat, and he choked as it dribbled down his chin. For the first time, through the numbness, there came a faint, throbbing pain, filled with deadly promise. Ed steeled himself, although he had a sneaking suspicion that he knew what he would find, and turned his head.

A metal beam, nearly as thick as his arm, had embedded itself firmly in his side. The bottom edge was slick with blood from where he had slid along its length as he rose, and more blood was dripping down to join the alarmingly large puddle beneath him. Ed felt himself break out in a cold sweat.

No… you're kidding me. You have got to be fucking kidding me. With a strangled cry, he strained upwards, abandoning all logic as a primal terror rose up within him and urged fight, to escape, to get away. The pain ripped through him, his limbs gave way, and with a small sob collapsed onto the ground.

As he lay on the ground, his body thrumming with pain, and his limbs weak and trembling, Ed fought to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. He felt so small, and young, and alone, and in that moment he yearned for his mother, for Al, for Winry, even for that goddamn bastard Mustang, anyone to keep him from dying alone and by himself in some piss poor fucking mine in the middle of nowhere.

God, he didn't want to die. Al would be devastated, and Winry, would cry - hell, he'd like to think that even colonel bastard would shed some tears. After all, they'd grown… closer over the years Ed had spent in his command.

Summoning his last vestiges of strength, Ed slammed his fist into the ground - the flesh one, nice and hard so that he felt it. "I won't make her cry," he ground out, raising himself inch by agonising inch. "Especially not over something this stupid!" He lifted himself just enough to slap his flesh palm to the metal one, and then to the beam through his back, which broke into two pieces, flying of in different directions. Ed collapsed once more to the ground, touching his hands once more, before sending a transmutation rushing through the floor to free Kimblee's two chimera henchmen.

The two grunts rose slowly, brushing themselves off as the made their way towards Ed.

"Damn," one of them grumbled. "Kimblee's gonna pay…"

They paused in front of Eds prone form, taking in the blood, his side rising and falling with rapid, shallow breaths.

"Hey, Fullmetal kid. You still alive? What made you decide to rescue us?"

"You're more injured than we are."

Ed took a slow laboured breath, and forced out words past the blood cloying in his throat. "Don't get the… wrong idea…" A few more breaths, and the two men drew closer, kneeling at his side to better hear his feeble voice. "I can't pull this out of my stomach on my own." He could feel himself fading, and fast. He needed to get this done quickly. "I could use… a little help…"

Kimblee's henchmen seemed taken aback. "We were enemies not five minutes ago, and now you're asking us to save your life?"

"Yeah, basically."

The two exchanged looks again, and seemed to come to an agreement. "Well, it's not like we were given orders to kill you…" The world was losing its focus again, but Ed felt himself being dragged upright against a large, burly chest. "Come on."

He made out the vague, swimming form of the other henchman kneeling in front of him. "You know kid, you're gonna bleed to death pretty quick once I pull this out."

Ed grit his teeth. He did know, but he didn't really have another choice. "Not if I heal it." he spat. "As soon as it's out of me I'll close up the wound with Alchemy."

"What? Have you ever performed any kind of medical alchemy before?"

"Sort of. I did some research on it, when I tried human transmutation." Ed wished the guy would stop asking all these questions and just get on with it already. It's not like waiting and talking it out was gonna make the actual deed hurt any fucking less.

But now it was the one holding him up's turn to speak. "Just some research? Your guts're gonna be all messed up. You're gonna need a philosopher's stone to make this work."

Ed's eyes had fallen closed, but now he opened them, and raised his head to glare at the figure in front of him. "I'm going to have to use my own life force. The same way I would use a stone." The sharp cough that forced it's way up from his lungs mingled gasps from the two men. "It'll probably take a few years off my life span though…"

"You're positive?" The voice seemed unsure, as if the man in front of him actually gave a fuck about Ed's wellbeing.

Ed grit his teeth. "I don't really have time to think about it. If this is really what showing mercy is gonna cost me, then I have to learn to pay the price, right?"

The shape in front of him sighed, and blurred some more. "I don't know what you're talking about, but it sounds like you're sure." Ed felt something settle on the end of the rod, and stifled a groan. "Ready?"

Ed managed a smile, and a grin, and then he closed his eyes. There was a moment, he drew in a breath, let it slip back out, and then raised his hands above the wound. "Yeah, I'm ready."

I've gotta picture myself as a single mass of energy - ripping, tearing pain, coursing through his whole body, overwhelming, I can't I can't, god it hurts - distantly he heard someone scream, and he knew it was himself - use the energy, just like the stone - more screams, and the agony grew and grew and grew - that's it! I'm a philosopher's stone that's powered by a single soul - the pain tore through him, and Ed felt himself waver on the edge of unconsciousness, his screams climbing to a louder and louder pitch - remember what it felt like, in that moment, remember how it felt to use souls! To harness life - a clap, his hands moved on instinct to cover the gaping hole in his stomach, a rush n energy, a flare of blue, and -

Whiteness. Nothing.

A familiar, eerie voice.

"Well, Mr. Al-che-mist. Fancy meeting you here."

Ed whirled around, and found himself face to face with the gate of truth, and the small white figure sitting before it.

"Wh-what? Why am I here? It should have worked, it should have-"

"Now hush hush you silly boy. You still haven't learned? Human transmutation comes with a price, no matter how small the act…"

Ed felt dread wash over him. Human transmutation? He hadn't even considered that possibility, he'd assumed that a part of his soul in exchange for his life was enough, but apparently he had been wrong. What's more, even here, in this strange white plain, he could feel that he had not fixed the wound entirely, only patched it up long enough to buy him some time. He could already feel himself wavering.

"What are you going to do to me?" He asked, voice small and childlike as it echoed of the vast expanse of emptiness around him.

The truth laughed. "Why, nothing much. I'm going to send you on a little journey, somewhere far, far away. Somewhere your little rule of 'Equivalent Exchange' does not apply. I think you'll quite like it there…"

And before Edward could even open his mouth to ask what the Truth meant, where the hell he was sending him, and how the fuck Ed was supposed to get back, he was gone, and Ed was standing on doorstep of prim white house, sort of like those in the nicer areas of Central, where Mustang lived, and the light was quickly fading away to night. For a brief moment, he lit up with hope. Maybe, the Truth had miscalculated. Maybe -

And then his legs collapsed beneath him, and he tumbled the flagstones, unconscious.

The following morning, Harry Potter opened the door to Number 4 Privet Drive, and found the unconscious figure of a boy, about his age, collapsed on the front step.