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

Rex grumbled to himself as he fiddled around with the delicate parts of the depth probe, his strong hands working with surprising dexterity as he tinkered with the small device. But his face betrayed the amount of focus his hands gave to the task; for as they fell into a rhythm showing eons of exercise with the troublesome device, his expression was distant, deep in thought as he mulled over what been happening over the past few days.

He still had a hard time comprehending the story that Pyra and Mythra had told him and Nia about what had happened in England two nights ago. He almost didn't believe them at first, but the dour expressions on their faces as they conveyed what had happened told him that it was all too true. When the tale was finished, he had a mixed bag of feelings about the whole ordeal.

On the one hand, he was a little upset about how drastic of measures they had taken during the encounter. Using their ether abilities in most situations was not only overkill, but extremely risky. Unlike the modern form of magic, ether was very tangible and tended to linger, and was not only more violent because of it, but also jeopardised the secrecy of their identities (a fact he had reminded the sisters of).

On the other hand, would he have done anything different? Could he? He only had the story to go off of, but even without the benefit of hindsight, he could see himself going in to play hero himself, damn their non-interference code, just to save an innocent child from their abusive family.

A child who was now sleeping in their guest bedroom. A child who looked like a tiny version of the true Aegis blade.

The sound of the casing of the probe snapping together brought Rex's attention back to the present, and his repairs on the device, now complete. With a sigh, he put the device down on the table and stood up, stretching as he did so. Looking at the clock, he noted it took him only an hour to complete the repairs this time, leaving him with another hour until his wives got home. Still a lot of time to get things done.

However, he had already finished all of his household tasks for today, along with his combat practice, and now his maintenance projects for his salvaging equipment. Normally, these things would have bought him enough time to arrange his thoughts, but even two days of these activities had not deterred his mind from the uncertainty that hung in the house. Inevitably, his thought would go back to the child.

Leaving the work desk, Rex made his way to the guest bedroom to check on the child, something he would do periodically throughout the day. Thus far, the child had only shifted positions as they slept, but the fact they were out for so long was starting to worry all of the residents of the place, except for Nia.

She spent nearly all of her time at home watching the child's vitals, not only making sure that they were stable, but also trying to understand the extent of the child's transformation. From what she could tell, the child had undergone a sort of magical metamorphosis, near perfectly changing their body and magic. She was sure there was some echo of the child's former self, but it was too early to tell.

However, the child's mental state was a complete mystery, not only because they were asleep, but because this sort of transformation was something the family had never seen before, even in all the millennia they had lived.

It also didn't help that no-one in their odd little family had any sort of parenting experience. They had all been leaders; mentors; and even close friends, but never had they forged any sort of parental bonds. Sure they had the literal wisdom of a thousand lifetimes, but all the preparation in the world couldn't prepare them for proper parenthood. Still, Pyra and Mythra had all but vowed to magic itself to take care of the child, and he would be a fool to not do his best to help them in all ways possible.

As Rex approached his destination, he saw that Dromarch was just outside the room, peeking into it through the slightly opened door. At the sound of Rex's arrival, he turned his head towards the man and said "I assume you have completed your project once more?" to which Rex nodded swiftly.

"Well, it would seem that leaves us with one last charge." said Dromarch as he looked back into the room, Rex joining in with him. The child had shifted in her sleep once again, but otherwise it seemed that nothing had changed.

After a long, quiet moment, Dromarch pulled his head back once more facing Rex as he asked "I assume you've considered what this means for the family? You've been awfully quiet these past few days."

Rex sighed. "I have, and it hasn't been easy. I mean, this should be a wonderful occasion. Our family has been given a chance to raise a child as parents after all this time. I should be thankful. But I can't help but feel afraid." He turned to Dromarch and continued. "The kid is likely to be scared one way or another by these changes. If she's just Pneuma reborn, she'll feel out of place. But if the boy is still in there, then they'll freak out from the changes alone, not to mention their abuse from those people would surely affect them for years, if not more."

"And... I'm not sure if we're ready for that kind of responsibility. We may be over 75 million years old, but none of us have the mindset for parenthood, it was never needed. That's what scares me. What if we forget to treat them gently? What if we end up hurting them more than before? Can we really say we deserve to be parents to a child like them?"

Rex looked down at his feet as he contemplated these questions himself. But before his mind went too far down the rabbit hole, Dromarch interjected.

"I believe you worry too much." he said, to Rex's mild surprise. Seeing he had the man's attention, Dromarch continued. "No matter what the child's condition, you and the others are more than capable of being good parents for them. I suspect you are just experiencing the normal feelings of a new parent towards their first child. There is nothing wrong with that."

Rex looked at his old friend and sighed. "I guess you're right. It's just been so stressful these past few days." He then grew a small smile. "Thanks Dromarch, I really needed that."

"My pleasure. After all, one of us has to keep our head screwed on tight in times like this." A light chuckle was shared between the two, before Dromarch turned to leave. "We should send for the others soon. It would be wise for them to know about this development, lest they come to… less than positive reactions."

After hearing this, Rex closed his eyes, considering the idea. After a few moments, he looked back to Dromarch. "Can you make arrangements for tonight?"

"Absolutely, master Rex." And with that, Dromarch rushed off.

Rex sighed once more, now in a better mood than before. He turned to look at the child in the room, who was now lying on their back, a peaceful look on their face. As Rex watched, he felt deep within his heart that this was indeed a blessing, one that he and his family would cherish.

"May the Architect bless you; bless us all." he said to the child before closing the door with a soft click, and heading off to prepare for the evening.

All without knowing that the child had begun to stir.

As Harry roused from his deep and strangely pleasant sleep, he immediately knew that something was off.

He couldn't remember the last time he had slept so soundly in all his life. His relatives weren't exactly the quietest people, even when sleeping. And he was never allowed to wake up slowly either, he was always jolted awake by something the Dursleys did, directly or not.

He also wasn't used to being so ...comfortable. He had yet to open his eyes, and his other senses were still very dull, but he could still tell that whatever he was sleeping in was far better than his normal tiny mattress and sheet.

As he became more lucid, the feeling of strangeness grew stronger. At the same time, the haze in his head became clearer as well, and he slowly began to recall what had happened. He had been in pain, then something came and made the pain go awa—.

His eyes snapped open and he bolted upright, his hands clutching his chest. He felt so wrong, but at the same time so right. He was used to having some sort of lingering ache or throbbing pain Almost as far back as he could remember. But now, there was no discomfort in any way.

What had happened? What had he done wrong… or right?

Slowly, the memories of his last waking moments replayed in his mind. His punishment from his family; the two pretty women, Pyra and Mythra he recalled, charging in and rescuing him; him being taken to see the kitty lady Nia to be healed.

Then nothing.

Eventually, he calmed down, and started looking around the room he was in. It was fairly spacious, with a nightstand with a lamp on top on his left, a dresser on the opposite side of the room as the bed he was in, and a large mirror besides the dresser, all having strange, open angular designs, and mostly in silver with accents of a stunning emerald green. The walls and ceiling were all light grey. To his left was a large window with full silver drapes, casting the room in a faint glow, and on the wall to his right was a simple wooden door. All in all, the room seemed a bit empty. Still, it was a far cry better than his cupboard, or anywhere at his relative's place for that matter.

At this point, Harry felt completely awake, his curiosity growing ever so slowly as he looked around the room. But before he could go and explore, the fearful part of his mind kicked in. It was a bad thing to be curious. The Dursleys never tolerated any signs of curiosity from him, and would yell at him if he did so much as have a hint of a question. But his curiosity wasn't quieted so easily. He wasn't at the Dursleys' place anymore, or at least he thought he wasn't. It was probably ok if he explored a little.

With that thought in mind, Harry slowly got out of the bed, not noticing the lack of the feeling of the blanket across his skin, or of his feet touching the ground. Looking back to the bed, he noted the strange pictures carved into the headboard. In the center was a large tree, with weirdly shaped creatures walking towards it. However strange it was, it looked quite nice.

Turning towards the nightstand, he took a good look at the lamp, and became a little confused. He could tell it was supposed to be a lamp, but It didn't have any sort of lever or button to turn it on, nor did it have a light bulb, just a more open area of framing under the lampshade. How in the world did it work?

Saving the question for later, he moved over to the window and peeked through the drapes. For a long moment, he was absolutely captivated. The night sky was filled with so many stars, there was more light than dark, and showed Harry colors and shapes he couldn't have dreamed of seeing, yet there they were. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Eventually, he turned away. There was still more to see in the room.

The dresser, unfortunately, wasn't nearly as spectacular as the window view, but that was to be expected. It kept the strange design as the rest of the furniture, just with a lot more green. When he looked closer, he was surprised that he was able to see into the drawers. There didn't seem to be anything in them as far as he could tell, but he liked the idea nonetheless.

His sense of exploration came to a sudden halt when he heard a light padding from outside the room. It quickly faded away, but that was all it took for Harry to freeze in place, fear nearly consuming him. What was that noise? It seemed somewhat familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had heard it before. He turned towards the door, half-expecting the sound to return, and bring whatever made it into the room. When that didn't happen, he regained his courage enough to make his way to the door. But as he passed by the mirror, he noticed a strange light glinting off it's surface, causing him to face right into the mirror and see…

Harry stood silently as he gazed at the image in the mirror's surface, his mind working overtime to comprehend the view his eyes were taking in. It couldn't be real, right? There was no way that what he was seeing was the truth. It had to be some sort of illusion...right? Maybe a trick of the light? He tried to deny what he saw, but the longer he looked, the more unsure he became. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew in through the windows, separating the drapes for just a moment, letting the light of night illuminate the room even brighter than before.

It was all Harry needed to see his reflection clearly.

In the moment of light, the figure of a little girl was clear as day in the reflection of the mirror, albeit somewhat hidden by the outlandish clothes she wore. With silver armor, black under armor, and emerald green glass accents, the figure fit in perfectly with the room she was in. The only color out of place was the solid gold on the top of her high heeled feet, which looked weird on the reflection's 5 year old frame. Granted, the entire outfit was the same way. The shoes, no, boots, extended to her knees. From there, the outsides of her thighs still had some armor, but the rest was only covered in a tight black suit, which seemingly covered the rest of her body, with more armor on her hips, torso, and shoulders. The figure's head was round, yet lean, with a natural beauty that reminded Harry of the red and white ladies. Atop the figure's head was an absurd amount of silky, emerald green hair, tied into a long ponytail, with just enough hair to frame her face. A little tiara sat atop her head, seemingly keeping the hair in place.

But two things stuck out to Harry more than anything else. Firstly, the eyes of the figure were the exact shade of green as his own eyes, blending in almost perfectly with the rest of the outfit, as well as the room as a whole. And secondly, nestled right between his collarbones was an emerald cross-shaped crystal, which Harry swore was identical to the ones that his two rescuers had, right down to the placement.

The light faded as quickly as it came, but Harry continued to stare at the image in the mirror as more and more questions poured into his brain. Slowly, he moved to feel himself, just to make sure this was, in fact, real, even as the reflection copied his movement. He traced his fingers across the armor, feeling every edge, every crease, until finally reaching the crystal on his chest. Only then did he look down at himself, destroying any last doubts on what had happened to him.

He had transformed into a girl, one who bore almost no resemblance to his former self.

He looked back up to meet the gaze of his reflection, his heartbeat racing as he started to hyperventilate. His confusion and fear started building rapidly, becoming too much to handle. Fire and lightning started flickering around him, with water and ice appearing as well. A strong breeze kicked up, picking up dust as it circled him. The shadows became darker, the lights became brighter, and the crystal on his chest began glowing as it collected the energy around him. He grasped at the crystal with his hands, and before he could stop himself, he screamed, releasing a wave of energy, causing a shock wave to rattle the house, and shattering the mirror to pieces.

Once Harry's head cleared, he froze in fear at what he had done. He was surely going to be punished for this, the mirror looked expensive, and there was no way that nobody heard him scream. As he panicked, he barely registered the loud footfalls rushing towards the room. But when the door slammed open, he instinctively curled in on himself in fear. After a few moments of silence, Harry dared to peek at the person who entered the room. What he saw made him slightly confused.

At first glance, the person leaning against the open door had a large silhouette, but as Harry's eyes adjusted to the light that had flooded the room, he saw that the man was actually wearing a large, puffy looking blue suit with a myriad of belts; clasps; and plates all across it.. The man himself actually seemed quite lean, but not weak at all. He also seemed a little pale from what little skin Harry could see. The man's head was covered in short, wavy brown hair, with a thin beard stretching across the man's face, but what confused Harry the most was the man's expression. Instead of overwhelming rage, the man had an expression Harry could only describe as pure concern, not for the mirror, but for him.

The two stared at each other for a long time, each trying to decide what to do next. Eventually, the man straightened his posture a bit, before slowly kneeling down to Harry's level, neither taking their eyes off each other. Finally, in the softest voice Harry had ever heard from a man, he said "It's ok, you're safe "

Author's Note: Thank you all who have favorited this story. It truly helps me write these chapters. I hope you all have a wonderful March.

-Beatdown