Edward Elric and the Philosopher's Stone

Letters by Owl

"Hey, Ed, someone sent you a letter."

The aforementioned boy glanced up from the thick textbook he was pouring over. "The mail isn't supposed to come for another day or so, isn't it?"

Winry shrugged and tossed him his letter. "This is gonna sound really odd, but I think it was delivered by owl, ya know, like they used to do with carrier pigeons. There's a ton of them hanging around the house."

(Author's Note: I AM BAD AT THIS, OKAY?! DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU!)

"Owls? You must be seeing things. It's the middle of the day!"

"I tell it like it is. Anyway, isn't it kinda weird that the letter has your name on it, but it was delivered to my house?"

"Not really. Stuff like that happens all the time. Our addresses are only one number off, it was probably a mistake on their part," Ed countered, going to open the mystery envelope before remembering how difficult that is to do one-handed. He pointed to the bloody bandage covering his right shoulder. "Um, can I get a little help here?"

Winry rolled her eyes. "I swear, you're absolutely hopeless."

"That's kinda a side-effect of becoming a double-amputee."

"Whatever. What the heck is this return address, 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?' Sounds like a scam... and it's post-marked in Britain. Foreign mail is usually up to no good."

"Just open it already! It's not like the letter itself is gonna deplete my life savings!"

She sighed and gave in. "Here ya go, bossy-pants."

Mr. Edward Elric is invited to begin his studies at Hogwarts on the first of September...

It went on for a bit after that, but he stopped reading. It was obviously written by a madman.

"Studies?! What studies?! Is this, like, clown college?! I'm an alchemist, not a freaking magician!"

"What? Lemme see that." She grabbed the paper out of his hand. "This is for September of next year. What the hell?"

"Well, whatever, the point is, I'm not going. I have better things to do, like getting me and Al back to normal... wait. Where is Al?"

"In the basement with Granny. She can't reach the tall shelves without standing on a chair, and that's not safe at her age."

"Heh. I guess it's decided, then. Throw this out for me, okay?" Ed asked, more or less helpless since the incident, which they had an unspoken oath to not discuss unless absolutely necessary.

"Sure." She reached down to ruffle his hair. "Just get a little bit stronger, Ed, then Granny and I'll make you a new arm and a leg, and you'll be able to pick up after yourself for once in your pathetic little life!"

"DON'T CALL ME LITTLE! I'M STILL GROWING, OKAY?! I'LL GRIND YOU INTO PASTE AND SELL YOU AS JAM!"

"And then you'll never get your auto-mail. Honestly, Ed, how many nights in a row have you stayed up reading about bio-alchemy? No wonder you're cranky, you probably shouldn't even still be alive!"

Ed repeatedly tried to blow a stubborn strand of hair out of his face, to no avail. "I've gotten some sleep. Mostly on accident, but still. I'm fine, really... I just feel so bad about what I did to Al... I'm his older brother, it's my job to protect him, and I couldn't even do that. It's my fault he's stuck the way he is, so it's my job to get him back to normal as soon as possible."

"Oh, come on, Ed, you know Al isn't the kind of person to blame you for that. I doubt it's even crossed his mind."

Ed wasn't paying her any attention. "He can't eat, or sleep, or feel hot or cold, or even when I'm hugging him! I just want my little brother back to how he was, by any means necessary! It's not fair!" And with this, he burst into tears.

"Okay, someone needs a nap. Here, I'll go get you a painkiller so you can get to sleep."

"At least I can still feel pain!" Ed cried, still distraught.

"Brother?" Alphonse asked, slowly moving into the room. "Are you talking about me? Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah..." Ed lied, dipping his neck so that his bangs would obscure his expression. "I'm fine, it just hurts..." He trailed off, not wanting to offend his little brother.

"It'll get better, Ed. Just deal with it a bit longer. Then we'll find a way to get our bodies back— together." He bent down to give Ed a cold, metallic hug.

"You're hurting me, Al," Ed murmured as he was poked by several of his brother's sharp spikes, but at the same time not caring all that much, because at least they were both still alive.

"Did you say something?"

"No," Ed lied again, leaning his burning forehead against the pleasant cold metal. "I think I might have a fever."

"Well that's your fault, idiot!" Winry commented, armed with a monkey wrench and a menacing look in her eyes. "I did the best I could, but there's still a chance you got an infection on the way over here."

"Please don't yell. You're giving me a headache."

She winced. "Sorry, Ed."

There was an awkward silence until Al finally changed the subject. "Did someone send you a letter?"

"Oh, this? It's nothing. Probably a scam anyway. Honestly, what sort of idiot do they think I am? Pfft, magic."

"I don't know, brother. A lot of the same stuff could be said about alchemy."

"Please be joking. Alchemy is a science, not a wad of wand-waving hoo-ha!"

Alphonse did his best imitation of a sigh, as he no longer possessed lungs. "I was reading this book the other day, and there was this bit that went something along the lines of: 'your ancestors called it magic and you call it science, but to me, they are one and the same.' Ya know? Maybe it's the same with alchemy."

"Eh, I'll think about it," Ed responded grumpily. An awkward moment of silence passed. "Okay, done thinking about it. The answer is no. I'm not going all the way to Britain just to check out some crazy scam that's trying to convince me I'm a wizard."

"Big brother, you're throwing away a real opportunity here..."

"No I'm not. This is crazy-talk. Besides, I'm gonna be a state alchemist, and then I'll have access to all the knowledge in Amestris!" Ed countered, and that was that, end of discussion.

Except it really wasn't.

The letters kept coming, in droves and scores, every day, regardless and relentless. Time passed. Ed got his new limbs.

He cried for, like, a week afterwards.

What a baby.

Eventually, a little less than a year after the first letter came, they stopped altogether.

They were replaced by a very old, very unhappy woman who called herself Minerva McGonagall, who had suddenly appeared in the fireplace with a single letter in hand.

And what poor Ed didn't know was that Hell hath no fury to rival a witch whose correspondence had not been answered.