Sorry for the delay! Danny P barged his way into my head and started me questioning Harry's 'deadness' so to speak. It has nothing to do with Parallels whatsoever but I definitely know what I'm going to be writing when this story finishes (Not that I know exactly when or how this story of mine will actually end but I should figure that out eventually).
Plus this is a filler and I can't really write fillers that well either.
Plot plus insane Bunnies courtesy of Silver Melody217
Written by NialsFiction
Harry Potter jumped through the veil in OoTP. Unfortunately, instead of finding Sirius, he finds himself in world without magic (except him). He was then adopted by a kind couple and graduated muggle college. Because of his high grades, he attracted the attention of Sector 7 and was offered a job as a scientist. Later on he was assigned to NBE-1, Megatron.
Harris awoke to pain.
That's all it could be described as really.
Pain.
Not that he was surprised to be perfectly honest.
Harris had, after all, just used his extremely volatile powers to explode something quite a bit larger than anything he had tried before. Here magic was as well behaved as a Niffler* in a jewelry store. That is to say, extremely destructive and hard to handle. Magic had a nasty sense of humor as well as he had been unfortunate to discover some years ago.
Harris had of course attributed this to the fact that magic was, for all intents and purposes, alive.
Here, left to its own devices, magic had become far more volatile and destructive then he had anticipated upon his arrival. Not that magic had been all that easy in the first place depending on your location anyway.
The first time he had tried to use magic he had been around sixteen. It hadn't gone particularly well to be perfectly honest with you as Magic, surprised at someone trying to channel it, decided to play around a bit.
Let's just say there was a bit of a bang and a severely disgruntled Wizard-in-training-who-was-now-the-only-Wizard-in-existence. Somebody was definitely playing around up there for his life to be so messed up.
There had been pain then too. Harris was sure he had screamed.
Or had he imagined it? Those memories were a bit fuzzy after all. Not that he cared. That was in the past and he hadn't tried again.
For a while.
He had tested it out again a while later. Boredom made teenagers do silly things. Actually boredom made everybody do something silly at some point or other in their lives, Harry just got bored far too easily.
This current pain however was not magic induced pain. This was the dull pain of broken ribs and the uncomfortable tightness of the skin he knew was caused by a burn of some degree.
Lovely. His skin would probably peel and flake some time tomorrow then.
Now… Waking up. Tricky.
It took a while. His aches and pains causing him to curse colorfully at his blasted luck. Everything seemed to happen to him. Evil Dark lords, Mad teachers, Dementors, Werewolves (Even if that hadn't been his fault), Death Munchers, and an unfortunate incident with some pissy pixies.
Opening his eyes eventually he blinked in surprise. And blinked again.
He appeared to be lying under a metal canopy of some sort that curved upwards into a point. In fact he seemed to be stuck in a triangularly shaped…
Ah.
'Oh I see. Marvelous… Great! I am so totally going to get killed.' He groaned and smacked himself in the face.
That was about when he started to try remembering exactly how he had gotten into this mess in the first place. Running from Megatron, being stopped by Megatron, and… blowing up the Allspark.
Harris laughed softly, examining the slightly burnt fingers on his right hand. Oh it certainly hurt, he noted, as he displayed his new spontaneity and prodded the redder skin rather harder than necessary. The burn was in a pretty spiderwebby pattern that looked rather like he had popped a paint pall pellet with his fingers and let the paint drip down his hand.
'I've been nabbed, trapped, purloined, stolen… wait why am I referring to myself as an object?' Shaking his head at that particular train of thought, or more specifically the direction he knew it would end up going, he sat up slowly trying not to jar his ribs.
Leaning back against the metal that surrounded him he smiled. Rather than being cold like most metals it was blissfully warm. If he listened he could just hear a strange metallic humming.
He didn't know how long he sat and examined the flat corners and sharp edges of the metal in front of him but it almost felt an eternity, after all it could have been anything between five minutes to five hours.
His blank staring was interrupted however when the whole front wall shifted and tilted away from the flat surface he was leaning. Looking up alarmed he was met with seething red orbs a very, very, long ways upward.
"Morning. I'm assuming this is the part where you kill me painfully?" With a loud growl the whole world shifted violently. Tipping over forwards, which strained his ribs rather painfully, he was rolled so he was no longer leaning against… The Mech's chest? Err.
Oh.
Oooohhh!
'I did not just snuggle Megatron! Nope. Nu uh. Ooohhhh god.' Righting himself he swore quietly prodding his ribs, which was a bad idea he realized as he managed to prod one of the damaged ones, and hissing in pain.
Red orbs glanced down at him briefly before everything swayed again and there was a clang.
Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang.
Big ass metal behemoth footsteps that's what that loud noise was.
Harris flinched as the fingers above him, large pointy things that were more claws than stubby digits, curled in closer. Harris assumed this was so he didn't try to jump.
Was he nuts? Harris' Slytherin side balked violently at the thought of jumping off of the only thing keeping him from toppling to his doom. His Griffindor agreed completely.
Whoever said Griffindors didn't have survival instincts? Oh yeah… Griffindors themselves. Jumping into trouble didn't help anybody, least of all themselves.
Choosing to ignore the weird ass swaying motion in favor of his ribs he idly wondered what had happened to Dart.
In reality Dart was not in the best of moods. He was a smart Mech who enjoyed surfing the net for hours on end while his caregiver was asleep (Which he was. A lot.) and delighted in playing online strategy games and loved chess to offlining.
He was now, however, switching between being royally pissed at Harris for allowing himself to get caught and panicking over his aforementioned caretaker.
The situation rather reminded the Mech of something the humans called 'Schrödinger's Cat' where the fictitious feline was trapped in a box with poison and you didn't know whether it was dead or alive causing a paradox or some such nonsense. In this case however Harris was the 'Cat'.
Was he dead, was he alive? Was he a red smush on the floor or was he alive but soon to be crushed by a pissed of Mech forty times his size?
Dart didn't know dammit and he didn't like not knowing! The internet had answers for most situations, but this? What the hell was a three-foot-ish Mech to do about rescuing a retard who managed to jam himself into trouble as soon as it rears its ugly head?
Nothing except jab other people into rescuing the twit that's what!
He screeched at the big blue and red 'Bot carrying him, bouncing frantically and gesturing wildly at the crater his guardian had somehow managed to make.
"Help him!" He roared in jittery cybertronian making the best imitation of the Decepticon Frenzy anyone had ever heard. "He needs help! He can't do anything against the 'Cons"!
"Except blow them up apparently." The big black fellow cut in, scratching his head sheepishly when the medic lobbed concrete at his head.
"I'm guessing he's yappin' your ears off asking us to rescue the scientist right? Do we even know where they are?" Lennox was mildly confused due to only being able to hear half of the conversation going on over his head.
The Autobot leader vented softly, looking down pityingly at the minibot standing on his hand before shaking his head.
Dart smacked his head against one of Optimus' massive fingers. Harris was so doomed!
This chap was un-beta'd and short as hell. Sorry!
