Guess which story isn't abandoned :) I've had some serious writer's block going on with this fic, but I finally managed to push past the problem. I guess you'll notice where the issue was, but I'm seriously done fighting it.

Before we move on to the chapter itself, I'd like to clear a couple of things that have come up in a lot of comments about the previous chapter and its AN:

-The wizards didn't say Olivier's sword is magical because it IS, they've assumed as much because the idea of a family (and especially one that they have assumed to be purebloods) having a heirloom that isn't magical is so ridiculous to wizards it doesn't bear consideration. Besides, why would Olivier need a sword when there is magic, right? As we see in the books, wizards rely on their wands far too much during fights. So obviously, she only carries it around as a magical symbol.

-There have been mixed responses to my comment on showing how the relationship came to be, so I'd like to explain it a bit further. If I write it, it'll be as a separate story. This story is all plotted out, and I have no intentions of changing it past the common tweaks that come up when writing a story. I like to have everything straight in my head before I start posting a story, which in this case means two things: one is that I know pretty much every detail of what will happen in this story (aforementioned block notwithstanding), and two is that I'd already decided and plotted out how Olivier and Roy became a couple in this universe before I started even writing the previous part. Is this that I'd like to make into a different fanfic.

Chapter 2

Basil Johnson stared in numb horror at the utterly unscientific events that had taken over the middle of the laboratory's entrance hall.

A package of books from that other world had arrived earlier this morning, and Edward Elric —the Edward Elric— had decided that the best way to sort them out was to camp in the entrance hall and throw them around between the heads of the different teams. It was positively barbaric.

"Oi, Mei! Wandlore bullshit, this one's for you!" Edward Elric yelled, and tossed a thick volume at Mei Chan, who caught it in the air without even looking up from the books she was sorting.

Basil grimaced.

He had been extremely disappointed, at first, to learn that he wasn't part of Edward Elric's team. He had believed that working under the barely known Alphonse Elric was a poor substitute. Now, however, Basil was very grateful for his luck. Not only was Alphonse brilliant, but he was also polite and considerate. Nothing like what those who worked for Edward had to say about him. In fact, as Basil had come to learn over the past few weeks, Alphonse was most likely the best person to work for out of all the team heads. Mei Chan wasn't a bad second option, but according to her subordinates she sometimes forgot the fact that none of them were alkahestrists and they could spend days without understanding a single word of what she said. As for Izumi Curtis… well, she made Edward seem like a sweet and cuddly teddy bear.

The only good thing to come out of this, Basil mused as he watched as the exchange of books continued, was the suggestion that perhaps some smaller groups might be in order to work on certain concepts and ideas from the books Brigadier General Mustang had sent. A glance around the room proved to Basil that many people intended to try to be transferred to one of these groups.

"What could these people want?" Olivier asked, her feet propped up on the coffee table in the suite's sitting room. She was tapping a pen on a notebook she had propped on her knee. Her attempt to compile a potential list of topics to cover in the upcoming meeting hadn't been very fruitful so far.

"I'm not certain," Roy replied from the carpet, where he was browsing the dossier the wizards had given them. "From what we've seen, wizards seem to be quite complacent. And this," Roy waved the dossier in the air, "mainly reflects that."

"Parlour tricks," Olivier agreed. That dossier was mostly a thick essay boasting about how easy life was for wizards in this world compared to muggles, though Olivier had her reservations on the topic. Wizards depended on far too many spells that required them to waste their own energy (not to mention the use of a wand), things that on Amestris —and the muggle world, from what she'd observed so far— were taken care of by machines. "What did Elric say about creating a team to work on making electricity and magic compatible?"

"That he'd look for some half-competent minion to take care of it," Roy replied with an amused smirk. "Mei Chan has made some progress in creating wands —it turns out that certain gemstones can replace the weird animal cores— so Edward thinks they'll be able to start on that project soon."

"Gemstones?" Olivier asked, grimacing. She could already imagine fancy sticks with jewels on one end.

"Very small gemstones. Nothing garish, I've been assured. Then again, Edward's definition of garish…" Roy trailed off, and Olivier snorted.

Yes, she knew how reliable that was.

"Ask Izumi. She's far more reliable when it comes to practical things," she said.

"And as for what we can offer…" Roy began in a pensive voice. He turned around and stretched very enticingly on the carpet. "What about automail? I noticed a woman with a wooden leg of all things on Diagon Alley the other day. Automail uses no electricity, so magic wouldn't mess with it. And it should fit the complacent lifestyles these people like so much."

"It could work," Olivier agreed, scribbling it down. "What about magic? Do you think it could have some added to it?"

"Probably? I'd be surprised if Mrs. Elric hasn't already come up with some ideas. Protective spells, at the very least, could be very useful."

"You're thinking of the desert," Olivier guessed, while her own mind went to Briggs and the trouble even winter automail could cause.

They'd have Chan's team test if magic could be applied to automail as soon as she had a working wand.

Severus Snape wasn't sure whether he was more nervous or exasperated right now. This whole affair about the other world had doubled his workload, and he was growing tired of running from Dumbledore to the Dark Lord and back again to report.

Dumbledore was convinced that this other world was unlikely to support the Dark Lord's cause, all due to a single chance meeting with Armstrong and Mustang over the summer during the fiasco with Potter and the dementors. Meanwhile, the Dark Lord, unaware as he was of said meeting, had based his own opinion that this other world would support him on Lucius' reports and what information Dumbledore told Severus to pass along from Shecklebolt's own reports to the Order.

Those among the Death Eaters who knew of this other world were convinced that the cohabitation there between wizards and muggles meant that the wizards of the world had taken their 'rightful place' above the muggles, and were eager to know more about it.

Truth be told, not much of this cohabitation between muggles and wizards was known. According to both Lucius and Shacklebolt, Fudge had shown no particular interest in this issue, and instead focused on how he could benefit on a personal level from a relationship with a new magical world. The information he'd shared with Armstrong and Mustang was meant to highlight the wonders of the wizarding world. Fudge was hoping to obtain something that would make the public love him, and even something that'd help him get rid of Dumbledore.

What little of how muggles and wizards interacted in this other world they knew had come from Shacklebolt's reports of his role as auror tourist guide for Armstrong and Mustang, information that Severus hadn't given the Dark Lord. Shacklebolt was of the opinion that at least Mustang had no issues with muggles, based on his interest in the muggle world and the massive amount of books he'd acquired at the bookshop they had visited.

However, Severus wasn't a cynical bastard for no reason, and he wasn't as optimistic as Dumbledore or Shacklebolt were about the situation. Mustang's interest in muggles didn't necessarily mean acceptance of them; it could simply be that he knew the advantages of looking for useful tools anywhere he could find them. Armstrong's knowledge on how to use a gun could simply mean that she'd chosen to learn how to use more weapons in case her wand was taken away, as had been the case during the encounter with the dementors.

But, whatever the truth was, the fact remained that all three sides in this conflict (even if the Ministry remained stubborn and willingly oblivious to the existence of said conflict) were convinced that this new world would support them and were planning accordingly.

Right now, Severus stood at attention in a Death Eater meeting, listening to the Dark Lord going on about the best way of explaining his cause to those he already called their "new allies".

Ed had never been particularly fond of national holidays. As a child, they had meant boring activities at school that felt even more useless than the average classes had. As a teenager, national holidays were all about military parades and actually having to put on the damned uniform. Ed had only been able to stand national holidays for the last three years, when he'd been able to ignore them altogether.

This year, however, national holidays had gone back to being a pain in the ass.

"Days off? From research?" Ed complained for what might well be the thousandth time. "I bet this was Mustang's idea, the lazy bastard."

Winry patted his shoulder.

"You won't die from taking things easy now and then, you know," she told him.

"Wanna bet?" Ed grumbled. He didn't do time off, he needed to have something to occupy his mind.

"You're impossible," Winry said with a long-suffering sigh. "We can take this chance to talk about the future."

Ed blinked up at the sky, then dragged himself to a sitting position.

"The future?" he asked, making his confusion clear. He didn't know what about the future needed to be discussed: they had already chosen the baby's name, whether they had a boy or a girl, and between Gracia Hughes and Teacher they had all the baby stuff they might need for a month at least. Or a year. Ed was of the opinion that they had gone a little overboard with the shopping.

"Of course," Winry said, in that voice that told Ed he was missing something obvious. "We're clearly going to spend a lot of time here at Central with this project —you won't leave it, and neither will I— and we can't impose on the Armstrongs forever."

Ed opened his mouth to ask 'why not' (the Armstrongs had more than enough space and money to house an army if they wanted to, as had been proven three years ago) but he stopped himself. Living with the Armstrongs indefinitely? With Mustang? Ed had no delusions, it was only a matter of time before Grumman dragged Mustang back to Central. Olivier Armstrong too, now that he thought about it.

Ed shuddered.

No fucking way.

"What's your plan?"

Winry grinned, pleased.

"I've been talking to Mrs. Armstrong. She insists that we stay here until after the baby is born, but after that I think we should start looking for a house. So let's decide what we want it to be like."

"Have you told Al?" Ed asked, because Al had always stayed with them whenever he came back from Xing, and Ed expected he (and probably Mei) would be spending quite some time at Central from now on too.

"No," Winry said, and then she grinned impishly. "I figured he'd want to get his own place with Mei."

Ed cackled.

Oh, he wanted to be there when Winry said that to Al.

A week later, Roy and Olivier finally had a decent text with some automail designs in it (no details that were specific enough to replicate them, of course) to show their potential allies. Cornelius Fudge was thrilled by the concept —privately, as well as for Roy's ears, Olivier was of the opinion Fudge was salivating over the thought of how well people would take such an improvement for injured, disabled wizards and witches. Even Rufus Scrimgeour had appeared interested, leaning forward in his seat to listen as Roy exposed the many benefits automail brought people in their world. They had glossed over the painful operation and long recovery time required: the Ministry of Magic weren't the only ones who could paint things through a rosy lens.

Winry Elric had outdone herself with the designs, even going so far as to include automail meant for children, a sappy concept that no doubt would have many people feel additional enthusiasm over the potential of automail. At the end of that particular meeting, Fudge had expressed an interest to meet an 'automail craftsman', as he'd referred to the mechanics, and Roy had come up with some vague response about a later meeting.

Truth was, neither Roy nor Olivier were looking forward to a future visit of a Ministry delegation to Amestris.

At least not yet.

Despite some disproportionately large efforts on Fudge's part, neither Roy nor Olivier had missed the obvious tension going on in the wizarding world. Not only the whispering clusters of people around Diagon Alley, but also the common disparaging articles in the Daily Prophet (mainly about Harry Potter or Albus Dumbledore), and the barely hidden tension between some members of the magical delegation. Olivier half-expected Kingsley Shacklebolt and Lucius Malfoy to pull their wands out and have a go at each other at any moment.

Unfortunately, that didn't happen.

Their stay was positively uneventful.

Roy kept sneaking books back to Amestris under their auror escort's noses; boring, drawn-out meetings took place three or four times a week, in which people tried to talk circles around each other, weasel information out of one another, and throw jabs around. Fudge seemed pathetically unaware of those goings on. And still too interested in Olivier for her patience. She might kill Roy while they were here; the asshole was far too amused by the whole thing for Olivier's liking.

And, fucking finally, three weeks after their official arrival to the wizarding world, a draft of a treaty that was more or less to everybody's satisfaction had been written, and Roy and Olivier were heading back to Amestris to present it to the brass.

Hopefully they had a long stay ahead of them. Based on what information they had put together, Fudge hadn't informed his government, the Wizengamot, of Amestris' existence, much less about their talks. The Wizengamot was an entity that made the brass appear tiny in comparison, and Olivier hoped, with her most vindictive streak, that every one of them was as stubborn and verbose as the generals she would be forced to deal with.

She hoped Fudge had a hard time convincing them, even if she might be tempted to run him through with her sword if he didn't convince the Wizengamot to sign the treaty, given the amount of time and energy that had gone into it.

To be continued