Sane London, or Muggle London as Snape called it, was like inner Central if the weather was perpetually shitty. Spinner's End was the sort of place that was inhabited by crazed serial killers or equally crazy alchemists - the sort of place that Ed was intimately familiar with. It wasn't quite a slum but the houses were in various states of disrepair despite looking inhabited. It was an area generally avoided unless a resident was sought after. It made perfect sense that Snape lived here.

There was a payphone outside the court, just barely within sight. It reminded Ed of the pocket change and scrap of paper in his inner pocket. Mustang trusted Snape but Jo sure didn't. He remembered how her too-wide smile drop the instant they were out of the hospital room.

"I saw what he did." Jo had said. "You don't have to go with that man." She was utterly serious with a flat tone and a hand on his shoulder, oddly reminding him of Mustang during the early days when he first joined the military.

"I trust Colonel Bastard and we defend ourselves." Ed had replied but he still accepted the coins and phone number.

Ed only trusted Snape because he trusted Mustang and he was trusting Mustang because, as much as he hated to admit it, he and Al were in a vulnerable position. Al's body was weak. Ed couldn't transmute. They weren't in Amestris, Creta or anywhere in their known world. Their cover story was less of a lie and more of a truth with omissions: Ed and Al were two boys lost in a foreign city and far removed from anything familiar.

If this were several months prior he and Al would have now had a semi-functional plan to get home and probably knee-deep in some local conspiracy that would end with in the local government being emptied out of its corrupt officials if not completely overturn. There would be no need to wait for some smug bastard colonel like snivelling children.

But the toll had been paid and now they were dealing with the consequences.

When Ed found the bastard who swapped their suitcase, they were going to get a metal fist - no, a metal knee to the groin.

"This is my residence." Snape said, leading him to the shittiest house on the court.

Ed held back his more opinionated comments, namely there was no fucking way the house could stand a gentle breeze let alone the weather he had experience so far in London, and instead asked, "Books?"

"Inside. There will be more than enough to keep you occupied."

A white owl landed on the mailbox and Snape walked up to it and...started checking its legs? The bird hissed and harshly pecked Snape's hand before flying off.

"Stupid owl. I thought it had been trained better." Snape muttered.

"Trained for what?" Ed asked.

"To carry mail."

For...what?

Snape had answered with complete seriousness and annoyance that he hadn't been joking and that it was common practise for mail to come by fucking bird.

"Then what do mailmen do?"

"Train the owls." Snape said wryly, looking in the direction the bird flew off. "Though not particularly well."

They entered and Snape had delivered on his statement, the house filled with books. It was no State Library but there were more books with a wider array of topics than Ed would have expected from anyone's personal collection. There was definitely a musty smell that indicated no one had been home in quite a while and the sitting room was so small that it would literally make three people feel like a crowd. However, the only things that Ed cared about walls lined with books from floor to ceiling and an armchair by a fireplace that would be the perfect reading spot.

The books were meticulously organised and, though covered in dust, were well loved and cared for. Browsing through the shelves, Ed found that two whole walls were dedicated to Potions with more reasonably sized sections about other 'magical' topics such as Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Ancient Runes and right on the far end - alchemy.

Ed wasn't ready to fully accept magic as is but here were the resources to help him understand. Comprehension always came first. There was a method to this madness, a formula behind the impossible, he just needed to find its truth.

His fingers reluctantly skimmed pass the alchemy section and pulled out a thick volume in the Magic Theory section. Understanding and Unravelling Magicks seemed like a good place to start.

Ed heard Snape say something beds and food but his attention was ripped away from the book when one of fucking moved - revealing a hidden staircase up to a second floor. Whether Granny would let him build one in her house or he would have to rebuild his old home, Ed was definitely going to have a hidden passageway in the future.

During their search for the Philosopher's Stone Ed had encountered valuable information obscured not by an alchemist's code but by ignorance and fanaticism. Monks were more likely to write stuff down over an alchemist but thanks to layers of religious jargon, it was twice as hard to decode. The trick they had discovered was to work backwards from the result and try to connect the writings to their own alchemical knowledge. Miracles and mysteries were revealed to be simple transmutations through the eyes of those who didn't know any better. It was going to be harder trying to understand magic, given that he only knew the results and nothing about the mechanics behind it, but it was doable. This was doable.

That what was Ed kept reminding himself as he plowed through Snape's library but these wizards were so fucking stupid.

They developed new spells at an envious rate but not once did they sit down and fucking think of the how's behind the what's. Nothing was questioned, developed or refined. If the desired outcome was reached the first time then the spell was considered 'perfected' and never improved. If it failed disastrously they didn't try to figure out why - they just slapped 'dark magic' on it and stop any innovation then and there.

To be fair alchemy had its own taboos, of which Ed was intimately familiar with, but at least there had been record that people had tried. As of the most recent book, there had been nothing at all. With recent being a hundred fifty fucking years ago. Back then, alchemists were still arguing over how many elements there were.

The only saving grace were the notes scribbled into the margins. Someone had been thinking critically about magic rather than just blindly following tradition. Some were just musings or comments but some of the improvements could revolutionize the entire area of study - not that there was much there to begin with.

"Snape should write a book." Ed muttered to himself. "He knows a fuckton more than any of these writers."

Then suddenly, the fireplace ignited with green flames. Ed jolted backwards too quickly, once again agitating his right shoulder. Fuck.

A tall figure emerged from the flames as casually as walking through a door. Ed recognised the slick blond hair and sharp features, it was Malfoy from the tailor's shop.

"Floo has been getting rougher and rougher." He heard Malfoy grumble.

That was floo? The papers suddenly made a whole lot more sense. Logistics aside, using fire for transportation was just asking for something to blow up. Mustang would love it of course, the pyromaniac bastard.

"Hello Edward." Malfoy said. "No need to worry, Professor Snape is expecting me."

"Mr Malfoy. Hi." Ed said while trying to ease out the pain.

"Ah yes, Professor Snape had mentioned what the muggles did to your shoulder."

"Doctors mean well."

Malfoy scoffed, walking towards Ed. "That doesn't mean what they did helped. At least they aren't resulting to leeches. Here, let me look at that shoulder."

"I have pain pills." Ed said, inching further away from Malfoy and his brandished wand. Just because he was willing to understand magic, that didn't mean he completely trusted it. "And doctors would notice."

"It's just a simple spell for the pain, leagues better than any muggle pills. They won't notice anything. Your shoulder, Edward." Malfoy spoke sternly, reminding Ed of Sig and Mustang when he had gotten injured in the past.

Reluctantly, Ed peeled back his coat and turned shoulder towards Malfoy.

"...what happened to your arm?"

Shit, if only muscle atrophy was easier to hide.

"Accident." Ed said with a vague wave of his left arm, trying to convey he didn't know enough Cretan to explain it.

"It must have been quite the accident…" Malfoy said. "Anodynus."

And with a wave of his wand and a magic word, Ed's pain instantly faded away. Ed sighed in relief but part of his mind was still reeling. Anodynus meant 'reducing pain' in Latin - so words were their equivalent to arrays? But what of the cost? There was no equivalence to pain reduction unless it was being transferred elsewhere but Malfoy seemed perfectly fine and there was nowhere else the pain could have gone - and pain wasn't something tangible like a rock or limb so it couldn't have just been left at the Deconstruction stage like Scar's alchemy…

Malfoy still firmly gripped Ed's arm. "Bugger those muggles." He muttered and his wand glowed as he casted another spell.

Ed howled in pain.

There was a burning sensation throughout Ed's right arm. No, it was more than burning. It was tearing sensation rippling through his muscle like when the Gate first took his limbs.

Forcing his eyes open, Ed saw that Malfoy had been blasted into the opposite wall with fallen books scattered around him. Ed's arm…

There wasn't an arm there. It was a mass of writhing smoke with red electricity crackling throughout it.

Like Pride's shadows.

Like a Philosopher's Stone.

Fuck.

Then just as quickly as pain arrived, it dispersed and his arm was back to its pale withered state. Ed stared dumbly at his arm, waiting for it to do something else. Was this a side-effect of the Gate? From the Promised Day? From using his soul as a Stone? Was he even human anymore?

"Bloody hell…" Malfoy said, pulling himself out from underneath the books. He locked eyes with Ed and - he knew. There was shock and a bit of fear but there was an overwhelming recognition.

A hand pulling him up by his collar. 'I've been to your house. What the hell did you do?! What did you create?!'

"Does Professor Snape know?" Malfoy wasn't yelling but there was the same apprehension.

Ed shook his head. He bit his lip, forcing down words that begged for forgiveness for his sins.

The bookshelf door slammed open and Snape stormed down the stairs dressed in billowing black robes.

"What's going on here?!" He demanded. "Malfoy!"

"Just a small misunderstanding, Professor." Malfoy lied easily, dusting off his clothes and returning the books to their place with a wave of his wand. At least he was giving Ed the choice when to disclose it to Snape.

Ed shrugged casually. "No good with magic."

Snape gave them a steady glare - a teacher's glare. He knew they were hiding something but was willing to drop the topic for now.

"Come upstairs, I have the next batch of Astoria's potions ready."

"Can we go hospital later?" Ed said. "I want Al."

"If there's still time."

The two men ascended, not sparing Ed a second glance. He was alone again.

With trembling steps, Ed slipped out of his chair and returned the magic theory books to their shelf.

"Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium…" he muttered to himself as he made his way over to the alchemy corner. He wasn't in the mood to puzzle over nonsense and impossibilities. He needed some familiarity.

Snape had Flamel's book all the way back to the 80th English edition with some older copies in French and German. There were also some other books but they were obviously written by quacks who thought that alchemy was just another branch of Potions. Then there was one that caught his attention.

Alchemy the Science: A Fuck You to all You Idiots

Ed grinned and skimmed through the first page, then read all of the first chapter and then he was back in his chair deeply immersed in the book. This was the first time he had heard of Paracelsus but this guy definitely knew his stuff.

'First off, I do not hate Flamel. He's like an uncle to me. Secondly, I do no doubt his abilities as an alchemist. He is one of the few people that I'd dare say understands alchemy better than I do. What I have a problem with is how he's willing to dumb down alchemy to fit the narrow-as-fuck worldview of you shitty wizards. In this book I promise you nothing but the truth of alchemy, a complex science that has fuck-all to do with magic. Don't like that? Then close the book now and walk away you pidgeon-brained moron.

First, understand alchemy's central law: Equivalent exchange. Nothing can be gained without first giving something of equal value in return…'