Three Worlds, Two Wars

Summary: It takes only moments to change everything as one knows it. It takes only moments to pull the world out from one's feet. How does one handle the change that happens? Does one give up? Or does one roll with the changes and make the best of them? HP/TF07 x-over

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I own Transformers. If I did, Prowl would be in Revenge of the Fallen and Sideswipe would have his twin and be a Lamborghini.

Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, 'This was their finest hour.' -Winston Churchill

Chapter One

Harry frowned as he stood just outside the Great Hall. He felt horrifically vulnerable in this form, with all his senses dulled. But if this mission was to succeed, he'd have to play the human role, and play it perfection. The thing was, he hadn't been human for going on two years; this mission was already proving itself difficult.

Steeling himself with a deep breath, he stood up straight, put on a confident expression, and creakingly pushed open the doors to the Great Hall. With a little bit of luck, he will have missed the Sorting…

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…I stopped to take a break and admire the cars at a Cadillac dealership, when I heard and felt something rather large land behind me. I turned around and immediately looked up. It was a huge, freaking robot!! I've seen a lot of things in my short life, but this had to take the ca…All I could do was pray to Merlin it wouldn't squish me.

It scanned the silver sports car I had been admiring, and then it looked at me with bright, sky blue eyes.

"Ahm afraid ya gonna hav'ta come with me. Can' hav'ya spread th' word of our existence."

Ohmigawd the thing talked!

The thing, robot, I reminded myself, transformed-transformed!-into the very same sports car he had scanned, down to the last detail, the only difference being the license plate that now read JAZZ.

"Get in." And what do you do but get in? You can't run, one, because he could chase you down as the car, and, two, he could transform again and squish you. I definitely wanted to see at least 18.

So I got in (which was really awkward, by the way. After all, he/she/it was obviously sentient…). I sat in the driver's seat staring out the windshield blankly as I tried to figure out something to say that wouldn't make me seem totally brain dead.

"What are you?" slipped out before I could stop it. I wanted to face-palm, 'Way to sound intelligent, Potter,' I thought sardonically to myself.

"My designation's Jazz an' ahm an Autobot. If ya can wait a few more minutes, all will be explained t'ya.""Sure, sure," I replied and we lapsed back into silen…well not silence. He…Jazz had turned on his radio and the car was filled with the thumping of base.

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With the screech of sirens (and the accompanying flash of lights) we were joined by an obnoxiously yellow-green emergency vehicle and a large black pickup truck.

"Friends of yours?" I queried, jerking a thumb backwards to indicate the two others in our 'caravan'.

"Yep," came the affirmative reply. "Designations Ratchet an' Ironhide. We're meetin' up with Bumblebee an' Optimus." Jazz chuckled. "Ratchet's wonderin' why Ah hav' a organic with meh. An' Ironhide's already complainin' about how dirty Earth is an' he's only been here twenty minutes."

Just then, one of Jazz's tires hit a puddle of water with a splash as they entered a dark alleyway, and his headlights hit two other, older teenagers standing beside a flashy yellow and black sports car. A large truck was approaching from the other end of the alley.

"Go stand with the other two while we explain," Jazz said. I, of course, obliged and got strange looks from the first two.

"Who are you?" the girl whispered as I approached. When the large red and blue semi began transforming, so did the others. When they were done, Jazz, Ratchet, Ironhide, and Bumblebee (well, the one I was guessing to be Bumblebee. He was bright yellow and black, after all…) formed a loose circle as the one I was assuming to be Optimus, knelt in front of the boy and spoke.

"Are you Samuel James Witwicky, descendent of Captain Archibald Witwicky?"

"They know your name!" the girl hissed.

"Yeah," the boy, Sam, said.

"My name is Optimus Prime. We are Autonomous Robotic Organisms from the planet Cybetron."

"But you can call us 'Autobots' for short," Ratchet interrupted.

"Autobots…?" Sam muttered.

"What's crackin' lil bitches?" Jazz spoke as he did a fancy somersault.

"Show off," I stage whispered.

"My first lieutenant. Designation: Jazz." Optimus told the other two.

"This looks like a cool place to kick it," Jazz said as he sat on a car behind him. I walked over and stood beside him. "You realize that you just crushed some poor guys soul, right?" I whispered. Jazz just looked at me.

Sam looked a weird cross between shocked and in awe. "Where'd he learn to talk like that?"

Optimus smiled (well, as much as a robot could smile). "We've learned Earths languages through the World Wide Web." He paused for a moment. "My weapons specialist, Ironhide."

Ironhide spun out his rather large cannons and they powered up with loud hum. "You feeling lucky, punk?""Is he making up for something?" I asked, looking at Jazz. Jazz blinked, and once he had looked up a reference to what I was referring, almost fell off the car, he was laughing so hard. Optimus, Bumblebee, Ratchet, and Ironhide just looked at Jazz like it was a common occurrence while Sam and the so far unnamed girl stared at him like he had a few screws loose. I shrugged. Optimus made a noise similar to a human clearing their throat and the two's attention turned back to him.

"Ironhide…" he began.

"Just kidding. I just wanted to show them my cannons." Ironhide replied.

"Our medical officer, Ratchet."

"Hmm…" Ratchet started, "the boy's pheromone levels suggest he wants to mate with the female."

The girl groaned and shook her head. Sam whistled and looked anywhere but the girl. "Awkward," I whispered.

"You already know your guardian Bumblebee," Optimus said, breaking the tension that was so thick I could cut it with a knife.

Bumblebee did a little jig. "Check in the rep, yep, second to none." I wonder why he did just speak, rather than play a song clip.

"You're my guardian, huh?" Sam looked at Bumblebee.

"His vocal processors were damaged in battle," Ratchet explained as a laser beam shot from one of his fingers; Bumblebee gagged as it hit him the throat. "I'm still working on them," he said remorsefully.

The girl turned back to Optimus, and asked the very same question that had just popped into my head.

"Why are you here?" And that was the million dollar question.

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Hermione Granger looked up from her plate where she was sullenly pushing her food into a pile as the Great Hall doors creaked open. 'That's strange,' she thought. She quickly glanced at the Headmaster but he seemed just as puzzled as she did. 'Who could it be?'

Then she took in the mystery person's clothes. 'That's not the uniform for the British Royal Army, nor is the British Royal Air Force's. The question is, why is there an American at Hogwarts?'

"Who is that, Hermione?" Ronald Weasley questioned around a mouthful of food.

"I don't know. Now ssh!" Hermione whispered sharply. Ron just rolled his eyes, "Sheesh!", and went back to stuffing his face. Not even a potentially dangerous stranger could stop him from eating.

Hermione stared at the mystery man as he walked toward the Head Table. Her jaw dropped as the man winked-winked!-at her. Just who was this man?

She watched as he snapped a sharp salute and proceeded to have a quiet conversation with the Headmaster. The Hall stayed deathly silent, straining to hear what was being said to no avail.

The Headmaster made a sweeping gesture with one hand, the man snapped another sharp salute, turned sharply on his heel and started toward the Gryffindor table, towards her.

"Mind sliding down a bit, loves?"

Parvati and Lavender just stared dumbly at the man as they moved down the bench a few spots. He took the spot they just vacated with a roguish grin.

"So…what's crackin'?

"Harry?!"

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Here it is folks, the story that's been in my head for months. I hope you enjoy it. Hopefully the way I wrote it wasn't to confusing. The next chapter might be out in a couple days, I'm in a writing mood. No promises though. Reviews wouldn't go amiss.

'Til next time,

Forgotten