Welcome to another chapter of Cracked! I had a good time writing this today so I really hope you'll enjoy it. Thank you so much for the 4 favorites and the 7 followers! I wanted to clarify that the warning down below is a very broad statement that will be used simply so I don't spoil the story that much. I know a lot of people who do that which I really don't like so I didn't want to give out everything. It doesn't necessarily mean anything.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the fandoms I write in. Whilst this is a multi-verse fanfiction, I got inspired by Pacific Rim and Kingdom Hearts (thus they will not be present in this fanfiction). I am an American writer thus there will be Americanisms. I thought I would try to write one of those "Gary-Stu" fanfictions that either everyone hates or loves. Along with an obvious HarryXMulti pairing as you know those tropes go together so brilliantly. I will try my best not to make it too terrible, however.

Warnings: This fanfiction will feature graphic content of violent, sexual, and twisted natures.

Shatter World, Book 1: Cracked

Chapter 2: The Healing of Harry Potter

The room smelled of medicine and of a subtle cleanliness and neither of those were vague scents; they were actually quite strong and they made Harry's nose sting. He scrunched his nose up as he looked at the woman. They had called her Madam Pomfrey; they being the old man who had later introduced himself as Headmaster Dumbledore and the other man who had declared that he was Kingsley Shacklebolt; for some reason Kingsley had to protect Harry.

Not that Harry wasn't greatly. Heavens no! He was completely the opposite. He was very grateful, albeit confused. Why would the man save Harry of all people? Why not his aunt. Why had they just abandoned Aunt Petunia? What was that thing? Harry had a feeling his answers would either come soon or not at all. The woman held a vial in one hand and her stick in the other. "Now, Harry dear, this'll be the easy part." She exclaimed some indistinguishable word and Harry felt a slight buzzing sensation overcome him, but that was all. "Just for extra measure," she added. "So that the bones'll grow back perfectly."

She then held out the vial to Harry, "You'll have to drink that to grow the bone. And sadly, it isn't the most painless thing. But don't worry, it'll be over before you know it." Despite her kind face, Harry felt a shiver go down his spine. He didn't know why he felt at comfort with these people. And with that old man laying down one major hint. Magic. Could this be magic? Harry could believe it.

His aunt and uncle had been completely against the concept of even stating the word and while they had blamed it on religious reasons; they didn't even say their prayers before dinner. And Harry knew that was a common thing because one girl had gasped when he asked what she was doing during lunch time. She had proceeded to criticize him and speak of Jesus. It had been a rough day that day. He smelled the vial. It absolutely reeked.

She kept it out expectantly. "Come on dear, it isn't so bad." She coaxed him and finally he opened his mouth and tried his best to clear his throat in favor of not tasting anything at all. It tasted absolutely vial. Like mucus and slugs and trust Harry; it did not go down easy. He swallowed it like a baby gulping milk. Within the minute, he could feel something in his arms. His eyes widened. "It's fix-" His voice stopped as he felt something pop painfully in his arms. Have you ever popped your back? Well imagine that feeling times ten and the sound times a hundred. His eyes grew big as if they were about to pop out of his tiny head. They watered up and Madam Pomfrey watched him with pity in her eyes. She was right though. It ended soon.

And Harry could move his arms, although they felt incredibly sore. She began to say something had it not been for the naturally booming voice. "Harry, my boy! I have much to speak with you about." Headmaster Dumbledore walked alongside Kingsley and his walk seemed slower than his voice as it took him a second too long to get to Harry. It was kind of awkward silence.

The older man, his eyes twinkling, sat on Harry's bed, next to the young boy. Kingsley remained standing. "I heard about the creature."

"The creature?"

"Yes, the creature. I am so sorry you had to face that thing on your lonesome until of course, Kingsley here, saved your life."

Harry looked at the silent man. "Thank you for that. I don't know what I would have done without you." Kingsley bowed his head in respect. He looked back at Headmaster Dumbledore. "What was that thing, sir?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"No. No one does. It might be an exotically rare, yet dangerous creature whose nest was disturbed by the Earthquake; it doesn't seem to be anything more than that." Headmaster Dumbledore looked to Kingsley: "You say you were able to stun it."

"Yes sir; twice."

"Good. We'll have to inform the ministry of such a thing. Though I doubt that would be the first thing on their minds. We have to organize a cover story for you Kingsley."

For a moment, it seemed, the two men seemed to forget about Harry's existence. He didn't mind. He liked listening. He seemed to get more answers from that than answering questions. But a cover story? Why would they need a cover story. "Arabella lives on Privet Drive-" that made Harry pause. Arabella Figg? If so, he knew her. Very well. She was his favorite babysitter. She was the one who allowed him to borrow a few books, who had introduced him to Roald Dahl. He had stayed with her for a week and half before due to the Dursleys vacations every other summer. Of course, they would never let Harry come.

"Arabella? Arabella Figg, Headmaster?"

"Why yes. She was in the old order, remember? Just briefly of course, didn't want the poor woman to be killed. But she was able to hold a much greater purpose." Headmaster Dumbledore glanced at Harry. "Didn't she take care of your for a few weeks, Harry."

"Probably more than that, sir. She was my favorite babysitter. Was she...magic too?"

"I'm so happy you caught onto that! So smart! You know that wasn't the only thing you caught from your mother. You have her eyes: such a vivid green; unforgettable really." He looked so closely at Harry that Harry felt such an instinctive need to back away. "But other than that, my dear boy, you look like your father. Although you're much more tanned than he was when he was eleven. A sport's lover, hmm?"

"No- I-uh- I garden."

"Garden? Well, here at Hogwarts, we have Herbology, which might suit your green thumb if you wish. Your mother would be very proud. She liked to garden too." Harry didn't feel like telling the man that he didn't like to garden as much as he was forced to do it. Now he barely cared about it anymore, it was just a time in his day, a minute that which he wasted his life perfectly trimming a plant. Then he paused: "Hogwarts, sir? I'll be going to Hogwarts."

"Yes! Sometime this September and had it not been for unconventional circumstances, you would have received a letter telling you of your admittance for you are a wizard Harry. You have magic and you have to learn how to use that magic."

"My aunt and uncle would never allow me to come here." Harry said mournfully.

"Well good thing that they don't have a choice on whether or not you come here. You are magical, Harry, so thus you deserve a magical education. Besides that, I have come to the decision that it is no longer safe for either you or your family, especially in that area. In fact, I have already detailed a letter telling your family of your whereabouts. And hopefully we can come to an agreement."

"But why?"

This question didn't shock Albus. "Well, because Harry your home isn't safe anymore. We have no idea how long that creature has resided there, how strange or dangerous it is, and we just need you to-"

"No. But why would you send me back to them! You just said I belonged here."

Albus froze and then tried to ease his words through softly. "You do belong here, but you also belong with your family. They love you."

"No they don-"

"Nonsense. They do." Albus was firm at this but the twinkle in his eyes disappeared. He wasn't a stupid man, he was actually regarded as very intelligent. But Harry needed to stay with his aunt. He needed to. This was of the utmost importance.

Harry looked down at his newly fixed hands. Nobody believed him. Everyone believed the Dursleys. He just wanted to cry. But he didn't. He didn't cry. He was taught not to cry.

Kingsley looked at Dumbledore with confusion in his eyes. It was very obvious that Harry Potter was distressed. He could just be poor boy wanting the affection of parents, which some aunts and uncles were unwilling to give, but that was still an issue. Kingsley hadn't been the one to watch over Harry for the most of his life. But he had showed up due to Dumbledore's urgent patronus. He had been the closest nearby and the only one available at the time. He had been lucky to hold the thing back. It was unnerving how quick the thing had been able to shake the stupefy, but luckily, it was enough time to get away. He said nothing. Dumbledore had to know what he was doing. He had to. But that didn't shake the feeling of distraught he felt when looking at the pitifully sad, young boy.

"Now Harry; I presume your aunt and uncle are here now…"
"Now? But we just got here? How did they-"

"Magic! You'll learn throughout your stay here. I might as well not spoil it. Learning is part of the experience after all. Now we must go greet them; I'm sure they're very worried."

Madam Pomfrey had yet to disappear from the room and she stayed behind, a concerned look in her eyes. As a registered healer, especially for school children, she saw that terrified, hopeful faze often and it made her sick to know her own employer was ignoring it. Oh, she knew he knew. He had helped other children before. And what made Harry Potter so different than other children? If anything his status of savior should have made him get better treatment than most. "Actually, Headmaster, I need Harry to stay behind. The damage to his arms was rough and I'm sure he wishes to rest."

"Oh- well of course Madam Pomfrey. Sorry, my boy, I forget that it is not just us old people who tire. I'll make sure to your aunt and uncle your way. As I said, I'm sure they're very worried about you." It was so utterly sugar-coated, it was a surprise that the only person who caught on was Madam Pomfrey herself. Perhaps it was because she was dismissed as the background or it may have been because she had worked here for so long and knew how Dumbledore acted but she knew it was false. He was lying behind his teeth. She knew about the Order of the Phoenix and during her late youth (for she was only in her mid-thirties), she had considered joining it; having been offered by Dumbledore herself, but she had denied having reconsidered. Madam Pomfrey was not a fan of violence.

She watched as the two men walked away, headed towards Dumbledore's office. She looked at Harry. "Do you feel better? Do your arms hurt?" She crept closer, wanting to pull him into her arms and hug the mess out of him.

"I suppose so." He seemed to flex his arms. "And no, they don't hurt anymore. Well- They're just a little sore to be honest, but nothing more than that."

"That's good. It means the potion worked."
"Potion? Oh."

"It's a bit daunting isn't it? I'm sure you aunt and uncle told you lots about magic-"

"They didn't." He muttered. "They're normal."

"Normal? Well, I suppose that's a way to put it. But don't ever think of yourself as lesser than, Harry. You're normal too. Just a different normal. You're magic and we call them muggles." She couldn't help it, but she placed her hand on his shoulders and looked at it with a great warmness in her face. "Do they tell you that you're not normal?"

"They've called me freak." And then it all spilled out. All of it. Every mean thing his Aunt Petunia may have uttered or muttered or said with viciousness came pouring out of his mouth. Not a tear dropped from his eye for this was life. An upsetting life. But once you've lived in sorrow for what seemed to be all ten years of your existence; is it really sorrow anymore? Can you feel the difference between sadness and happiness? Harry surely didn't. He felt contentedness, yes, but that was hardly happiness.

Madam Pomfrey felt her own eyes water up. To think that their savior had been treated so cruelly, so miserably was disgusting to her. To have any child treated with such abuse was horrid and would have been drastically punished in the Wizarding World. He had lived a life he shouldn't have lived. And when he had spoken of an equally awful fact: Harry Potter lived in a cupboard. He ate in the kitchen, not with his family.

And as she said this: she knew what she had to do. She knew how Dumbledore would pretend to listen to her concerns but not do anything about them. Because he had a plan. He always had a plan. But this one was unacceptable. She looked at the fireplace in the healing ward. It was unlit of course but it would be very simple to floo to the ministry and call for a trial. If could be wrong but Madam Pomfrey had a suspicion that it was not. She had known Harry Potter for not even half an hour but even she could tell that he was an earnest kid, truthful and honest and innocent, no matter the terrible things that had supposedly happened to him.

"Wait here. I have to set something up." She walked over to the fireplace. She pulled out her wand and waved it. "Confringo." A small flame bursted out of her wand, causing Harry to flinch, and into the fire place. It lit up nice and brightly. A small pot of floo powder naturally opened up.

"A fire?" Harry peered curiously. "In June?"

She turned to Harry. "Do you want to be away from your aunt and uncle?"

"I- Yes." He hung his head down in shame.

"Don't be upset. If what you tell me is true, then they do not deserve you. And I cannot, as a healer and as a teacher, let you go with those two if they have done as you say."

"But Headmaster Dumbledore said-"
"What he says and what he thinks are two different things." She said this almost blankly, as if realizing that she was going against her employer. He couldn't make her leave. It would look bad on his part and she would look the hero. Not that this was what it was about. No, it was much more than that. No child deserved to be treated with spite and hate. Not a single one, no matter how spoiled or how irritating, they were children and didn't know any better; innocent. "And it would do you best to learn such. Come here. We need to leave and quickly."

In the Headmaster's office, a woman sat at her seat. This woman was Petunia Dursley and boy did she not look happy. Her face was firmly placed in a frown. The moment she saw Dumbledore enter the room, she jumped to her feet. Her hands waving about, a letter had already been crumpled to the ground. One moment she had been looking for her nephew, she had found a man who would be willing to drive them to the hospital and the next a letter had been dropped into her hands and at first contact, she had been transported into this damned office.

"How dare you!" She yelled. "How dare you transport me here without my consent! I could sue you-"

"It's almost as if you do not wish to see your nephew again." The Headmaster spoke in a soft, calm voice filled with conjured up wisdom. "He is in our healing ward. His arms were bent and broken."

"He fell down the stairs." She bit out. "During the Earthquake, which I'm sure your kind called."

"Wizards can do all sorts of things, but control the weather is hardly one of them. Not even Merlin could have done such. Did he really fall down the stairs, Petunia?"
"Of course. I would never outright harm the boy."

"Oh, you wouldn't? So explain to me how on Earth, he is a quivering mess who wishes anything but to go home!" His voice began to bellow. Petunia would get the point and readily take back Harry and then his nerves could be soothed. Yes, that would end up well and good. And Harry would be safe until the time came for him to really face Voldemort.

"We treat the boy as he should be treated. We house him, we feed him, we bathe him, we take care of all of his base needs. But we do not love him and we are unafraid to speak out mind about his freakishness and to be honest with you, I have no wish to take the boy in any longer!" She shouted. "He has caused far more problems than he has luck."

"Freakishness-" They were interrupted by the Kingsley, who had sat silent, but the anger had been building. "You call the savior of the Wizarding World, freakish! Dumbledore, how could you let such a woman take care of him?"

"Excuuuse me," she started, her face turning a healthy shade of strawberry red. "But I am a woman of class and standards! Most wouldn't even dare take the boy in. Not that I wanted to. You forced me, threatened me, and I am no longer young. I know my rights and I know I don't have to take care of him."

"Petunia think of it. You're in far more danger than you think-"

"-Am I really? Or you just saying things? If you force me to house him, I won't take it any longer. I will tell someone. I know you have authorities in your realm and I know you're not the highest of them-"

"He is actually-"

"Fine." Albus said this was as much resistance as possible. He was in front of Kingsley. He couldn't do anything that Kingsley would see. He might have been the greatest duelist of his time but he was old. He was getting slow and with Kingsley as honorable and as powerful as he was, Dumbledore did not wish to risk his ire or hate. He hated the Oblivious curse. He didn't like using it. He preferred to get things done by talking. He would have to find a different home for Harry James Potter. He just didn't know who. "Kingsley," he said. "Take her to her home."

Kingsley looked at him but then nodded. "Of course. Do you want me to come back-"

"No. We need an alibi. Stay there and help out. Tell Arabella Figg of what has happened." What Dumbledore didn't know was that right this minute a very stressed healer was talking to a rather concerned Minister of Magic. And that tomorrow's headline would be: "WIZARDING SAVIOR, HARRY POTTER, FOUND! ABUSED AND NEGLECTED BY FAMILY!"