I do not own Harry Potter or Xenoblade Chronicles 2. All rights go to their respective owners.

In the headmaster's office of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was having an internal crisis.

Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, had gone missing. Not only that, but his family, the Dursleys were now locked up in St. Mungos being treated for obscure magical injuries.

This left Dumbledore without his most important pawn, and even if the young Potter was found, there was no way to insure his proper molding in accordance with his grand plans without the Dursleys.

He looked around the room at all the baubles and trinkets amongst the shelves, once ticking and chiming, now gone still. The only one that was still active was the one that showed that the boy was still alive. However, it now glowed a brilliant emerald, rather than the dim gold it once was. As he stared at the trinket, the memories of what had transpired in the past two days replayed in his old head.

He had arrived at number four Privet drive, wand in hand, to check up on the Dursley residence as soon as his instruments started acting up, only to see nothing wrong initially with the area. No Muggles were running about, so he assumed that it was only a small problem with the Dursley's attitude towards the young Potter. A simple fix, he mused.

He only knew how wrong he was once he saw the front door to the house in question in shambles.

Immediately, he ran inside, panic now racing through his bones. If any harm had come to the Dursleys, then surely the young Potter was either dead, or had been taken. Either way, his plans would be in jeopardy.

As he looked around the entrance hall, he noted the blood stains splattered on the wall across from the stairs, some looking quite fresh. A quick identification spell told him it was from the young Potter, further adding to his panic. He then noted the huge hole in the back wall, seemingly large enough to drive a muggle car through. But it was what he saw beyond the hole that scared him the most.

The backyard was riddled in black craters, each giving off a powerful magical aura. And in the largest three were the Dursleys, sprawled out in unhealthy ways. He rushed over to the closest Dursley, which happened to be Vernon, to see the full extent of his injuries.

What he saw would haunt him for the rest of his days.

Vernon's body was littered with gashes, burns, and bruises; making him look like one of Voldemort's tourture victims from the previous wizarding war. The only sign that the man was still alive was the occasional raspy breath.

Dumbledore was paralized at the sight, trying to imagine the horrid scene that had occured that night. As he looked over the man's injuries once more, his shock gave way to slight curiosity when he looked at the wounds more closely.

All of Vernon's injuries had seemingly been cauterized with pure magic, to the point that Dumbledore could feel the slight traces that remained within them.

Dumbledore's face hardened, knowing that he needed to act now in order to keep the Dursleys alive, especially if all of them shared the same injuries that Vernon had. He raised his wand and summoned his patronus, instructing it to go to the Minister of Magic. He needed healers and aurors immediately, and through the minister was the fastest way to do so. Once he had finished, the silvery phoenix took off, and after seeing it disappear from his sight, he started erecting muggle repelling wards. As he did so, he noticed that the blood wards around the house were completely untouched. This was worrying, as only those with enormous power could outright ignore wards of that nature. Voldomort had been close, but he was nowhere near this level of powerful.

The moment he had finished putting up fresh muggle repelling wards around the property, many cracks filled the air as the minister arrived, along with ten other people, four with auror badges, the other six in mediwitch uniforms. Upon seeing the remains of the yard, the Minister and Aurors bombarded him with questions as the Medi Witches assessed the Dursleys. Who were these muggles? Did Dumbledore see the assailants? Why was Dumbledore at the scene in the first place?

Fudge was especially relentless with his questions, knowing what the aurors didn't; that Potter resided there, and that this was more than just a random muggle attack. This barrage of questioning worked in Dumbledore's favor a little bit, for his interrogators gave him nary a chance to actually answer any questions. Eventually, the Medi Witches inadvertently came to his rescue when they swiftly left, taking the Dursleys with them. The brief pause that came from their departure allowed Dumbledore to finally put in his two cents.

"Cornelius, Aurors, I know you are confused, but flooding me with questions at the rate you are going will only make my old mind hurt. We have procedures for these exact situations for a reason," he stated, his normal grandfatherly tone laced with annoyance . It had the desired effect, as the remaining wizards and witches looked towards their feet in shame, the Aurors grumbling and Cornelius fidgeting with his fingers.

Turning to the Aurors, Dumbledore said in a more stern, yet patient tone " Aurors, I will be leaving the investigations to you. I will be heading back to Hogwarts to write my witness report."

Upon hearing this, the head Auror hardened his gaze. Before he could get any words in, Albus continued, "If I were to head straight to your department, it would cause a larger scene than necessary, and I would be questioned even more heavily there." Before the Aurors' attention was lost in shame once more, Albus kept going. "However, if my report hasn't been received by the end of the hour, you have my permission to storm my office to get it."

The Aurors looked shocked when they heard the last bit, but quickly recovered, the head Auror leading the others to start investigating the destroyed yard and house. Albus then turned towards Fudge, who stood straight upon locking eyes with the headmaster.

"I know we have much to discuss, but here and now isn't the time." The two of them glanced at the Aurors for a moment, before Fudge turned to Dumbledore once more, slight agitation in his eye.

"And when do you suppose you can meet with me? Tomorrow? Next week?"

"Three hours."

Fudge froze mid rant and stared at the old headmaster. Dumbledore had never given that little time for any meeting, especially for something as important as this. Still, Fudge knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"My office, or yours?"

"Mine."

Fudge, satisfied with Dumbledore's answer, turned to leave. Before he did, he took one last glance at the old headmaster and said "I hope you keep your word, because I would rather not turn up and have you not there." And with that, he apperated away, a sharp crack signaling his departure.

"As do I" said Dumbledore before departing in the same manner.

Dumbledore felt very fortunate to have procured the report for the Aurors that made his involvement seem purely coincidental, especially at a moment's notice. But seeing as he hadn't been taken in for further questioning, he must have done well enough.

It was worrying however, even if beneficial, that they didn't find the wards other than the ones that he had put up in preparation for their arrival. The blood wards must have fallen during the aurors' bombardment of questions. And while the absence of those wards helped to keep him away from suspicion, it meant that Potter's captors must have done something to change the boy's magical signature.

Dumbledore doubted that whoever took the boy could have altered his concept of "home" during their attack, and the boy was nowhere near coming of age. But because the wards were powered by the boy's magic specifically, changing his magical signature would have been the only other way to bring them down.

That fact worried Dumbledore the most, as it meant that this entity, whatever it's nature, would need to be disposed of for the greater good. The ability to change one's fundamental nature was too powerful of an ability to simply let it keep existing. But facing something so powerful was a daunting task enough, let alone something he knew almost nothing about.

This made his meeting with the minister an absolute nightmare. As one of the few people to know about the Potter boy's placement with the Dursleys, he was quite furious and fearful at the recent turn of events. After all, Dumbledore had told him that the protective wards were unbreachable. Seeing that not only were the wards bypassed, but completely ignored, made the minister almost hysterical. After hours of heavy debate, Dumbledore barely managed to convince the minister to not spread the word about the boy's kidnapping, lest they throw the entire wizarding world into chaos. In exchange, however, Dumbledore had to swear by magical oath to refrain from intervening with the ministry's investigation, and to let the minister run all damage control. Dumbledore wasn't even allowed to speak with the Dursleys, which further hindered his plans.

It was only after the minister had left that Dumbledore could finally slow down and realize just how irreparable his plans were. With the Potter boy gone, the Dursleys hospitalized, and a new variable to consider, the headmaster's plans to end the threat of Voldemort once and for all, and to lead the wizarding world into a new golden era, were well and truly destroyed. The only thing keeping the dream alive was the fact that the Potter boy was still alive, but that could only ease the headmaster's nerves so much.

He spent the next two days in a frenzied state, struggling to accept this new reality.

A loud pounding on Dumbledore's office door snapped him out of his memories. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs before looking at his clock, noting that it was still lunchtime. The banging on the door resumed, harder this time, reminding Dumbledore of his company. He called out to the door, inviting the person in with a calm tone, even as he still wanted to sort his own thoughts for a little bit longer.

The door opened loudly, revealing Minerva McGonagall, fury radiating off her highly composed stance. In her left hand appeared to be a copy of The Daily Prophet.

"Albus Dumbledore!" she barked sternly, marching swiftly to the headmaster's desk. "Would you kindly explain why the Dursleys are currently hospitalized in St Mungo's Janus Thickey ward?!" She slammed the copy of the Prophet onto the desk. On the front page, taking up nearly a quarter of the page, were the words "Muggle family assaulted by unknown powerful magical; Ministry in panic!" Below this was an image of the Vernon Dursley lying in a hospital bed, loosely surrounded by healers, and wrapped head to toe in bandages. A quick read explained how they were found near dead, and would be kept there for an indeterminable amount of time.

Dumbledore looked up at McGonagall, who glared at him with the fury of a thousand suns, and sighed. He expected her to have a reaction such as this, and knew she wouldn't leave until he fessed up. So he obliged, getting straight to the meat of the matter.

Once Dumbledore finished recounting the events of two days prior, he expected to be ripped apart by his deputy headmistress. He was pleasantly surprised when instead, McGonagall sat in deep thought, eyes closed, and chin resting on her knuckles. After a long pause, she looked up, having a much calmer demeanor, but still keeping her stern posture.

"Minerva I…"

"I'm not angry at you for what happened at the Dursleys' place." McGonagall said in a calm tone, stopping the headmaster in his tracks. Dumbledore stared at her, confusion deep in his eyes. Seeing that she had the headmaster's attention, she continued.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm still terribly upset about this. After all, I've been insisting for sometime now about moving Harry in with better caretakers. But you have been very insistent on leaving him with those people." she said, venom lacing her words. "Now Harry is missing, with Merlin knows what happening to him."

She turned to look at the instrument indicating Harry's health, a look of recognition briefly flashing across her face. Dumbledore noted her reaction, but just as he was about to question her, the clock in his office chimed, signaling the end of the lunchtime hour. At the sound of the bell, McGonagall got up out of her seat, saying "Well. I expect you will keep me informed about this. It wounds me that you didn't tell me sooner about the attack, but if Harry is indeed still alive, I pray he can be found with haste." With that, she turned and made way to the exit.

"Minerva..." Dumbledore called out, stopping Mcgonagall just as she opened the door. As she turned towards him once more, he continued. "What did you see when you looked at the trinket on my shelf?"

McGonagall's face turned down, her eyes closed as she said "I was just reminded of an old friend, that's all." and with that, she exited the room, closing the door with a loud clack, and leaving the old headmaster to his own thoughts once more.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry I took so long to write this chapter. I just didn't have as much incentive to write as much due to the Christmas break craze. But now I have a new system for writing these chapters, so expect a new chapter in at most 2 months.

Thank you all for waiting so patiently.

-Beatdown