Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Transformers.
Just a random but enjoyable thing I came up with. Might continue it.
Harry Potter was a Cybertronian Aerial-Type of the Seeker frame set.
He didn't know how.
He didn't know why.
He just was from one moment to the next.
After the Wizarding War, he had been kidnapped from the Infirmary right after the Battle of Hogwarts by the Unspeakables of the International Confederation of Wizards and broken. His mind had been shattered and rebuilt from the foundations up, then shattered again and rebuilt when they weren't happy with the first mindset they forced upon him.
For seven years, he had been the ICWs dog and assassin, killing any and all he was sent after, from rising Dark Lords, to a high-up member's bastard newborn child. Heavy with despair and unable to escape around the slave-spells woven into his psyche, he had called out with his heart and mind into the Darkness repeatedly for years.
Mere moments before he had dropped in his traces, soul as gone from his wizard body as any dementor victim's, he had felt something reply.
Then he had woken up, trapped far beneath the arctic ice in some kind of pod.
The frame, for all that Harry knew it was very old, also felt like it was little more than an adolescent in some ways, and an infant in others.
His frame was pure matte black with long legs, over-sized gargoyle-like talons on his fingers and a full facemask like a futuristic blacked-out rioter's helmet. His large wings were sectioned and folded like a bird's around his frame as though he was huddling in them.
Observing the riot of programs filtering across the screen and disappearing as soon as he thought of them, read them and then dismissed them, easy as thinking, Harry brought up his designation.
The direct English translation of his name would be 'One Who Harries: to harass, annoy, or prove a nuisance to by or as if by repeated attacks'. So, even in an alien body, his name was Harry.
An inquiry popped up in his processing screen, asking if he wanted to send out a distress beacon.
He agreed and settled back to watching a monk seal swim around the underwater ice peaks above his pod, semi-buried in the ocean floor.
A month later, his pod was excavated by a human organization called Sector Seven, and Harry was sent into stasis-lock when they filled his pod with the gas form of liquid nitrogen.
His last thought was, 'This is why I don't like humans…'
(space)
When next Harry came online, his frame was still unmoving, frozen in place, but his visor was protecting his faceplates and parts of his processor from the brunt of the cold, while his still-curved wings shielded parts of his fuel lines.
Across from him, Harry could see what looked like another of his kind, also frozen in place, with a snarl on his face and only a small amount of light in his optics, showing that he was online and fully aware as to what the human scientists were doing to them.
Registering a small brand on the edge of the opposite mechanoid's left pauldron, a brief scan into his own processors provided Harry with the information that this other of his kind ('mech' a part of his diction programs put forward) was a Decepticon. Further scanning of information showed that Harry's frame had been built by the Decepticon Military Faction during something called the 'Golden Age of Cybertron', and that he had been on a scouting vessel that had been sucked into a freak warp-hole, meaning, according to his chronometer, he had been out of touch with anything Cybertronian for a very long time, possibly the human equivalent of centuries.
Seeing no other options, Harry sent a short-range databurst to the other mech, simply stating 'Designation: Harry; One-Who-Harries: to harass, annoy, or prove a nuisance to by or as if by repeated attacks. Decepticon Military Faction. Created XXX-XX of GAC(1). Rendered in stasis due to crashing of scouting vessel XXXX-XX of GAC.'
There was a few clicks of silence before the other mech responded, possibly due to the cold slowing his processors.
'Designation: Lord High Protector Megatron; one million accelerating atomic particles. Supreme Overlord of Decepticon Faction. Rendered in stasis upon crashing into upper hemisphere of this planet XXYYX-YY Post-GAC, in pursuit of the Allspark.'
A series of data-packages followed this databurst within clicks. Harry opened one and found it was, in fact, a collection of this history 'he' had missed while in stasis, up to and including the End of the Golden Age, the Rebellion and the War that Tore Apart Cybertron.
Harry assimilated the data-packages rapidly, his processors switching into high gear and occasionally asking for clarification or requesting more information from the mech who was, apparently, his ultimate superior within the Decepticon ranks. This led to a long and in-depth academic discussion and tactics lesson between the two.
Because, honestly, the Autobot Supreme Council had it coming if even a quarter of those things were true.
According to records, NBE-2 was discovered by Sector Seven 23rd August 2004 after intercepting a signal which began on the 31st of July that year.
A lot of time had passed at a crawl and Lord Megatron had come a long way towards being a stable and more thoughtful Overlord rather than the rambling, single-minded wreck he had been before Harry had arrived.
There was still a deep-seated hatred of humans, but he was now able to focus on Harry to almost the exclusion of all else as they discussed why certain battle plans succeeded or failed, why this faction chose to join the Decepticons and that one didn't, while the human scientists examined and experimented and dissected around them.
Megatron was thinking again after so long of irrationality.
Harry put forward, in a mild, jesting manner, that perhaps Megatron had been infected with a subtle chimera virus.
Megatron was silent for some time, rather than brushing the comment to the side or raging at Harry. Perhaps three breems of silence later, Megatron reluctantly admitted that many of his Core Functions had been altered and/or corrupted.
Registering a pop-up, Harry pondered to Megatron if the Resonance of a Lord High Protector hadn't spread a Distortion Effect to those of similar make and function.
There was some further discussion (all of which ultimately boiled down to "…I'm not apologizing.") before Harry noted that there was some considerable movement amongst the humans.
After a time, a group of non-scientist humans arrived. There were a number of soldiers, four young people, an older man in a suit and some of the agents.
Harry and Megatron ignored them right up until one of the young humans, a boy, named Megatron and seemed to know the bare basics of the War from the Autobot perspective.
If he'd have been able to, Harry would have vented when Megatron's attention shifted to the humans and he began to helplessly seethe at them, unable to correct the human Youngling even if he wanted to. Especially when, just at the edges of their audio range, they picked up the sound of another mech screaming.
Noticing a flash of silver moving quickly across the floor, Harry drew Megatron's attention to it, providing a live-media datastream feed to the older mech when the little creature skittered out of his sight.
'Frenzy.' Megatron sent absently as he turned the mini-bot's presence over in his processer. 'A symbiotic Spark attached to my Communications Officer and Third In Command, Soundwave. He is an old model nearly extinct even before the war. It is likely that we will be free soon.'
Curious and a little cautious, Harry sent back, 'And then?'
'Freedom first, then take stock of what is happening. We will plan from there.' There was a pause from Harry's Faction Leader. 'I won't let any harm come to you, Youngling. Stay close and to my back right. Don't say anything until the situation is resolved, especially to Starscream, if he is near. If anything happens to me, you are to go to Soundwave and he will keep you safe until you are able to stand on your own.'
'And if the All-Spark is nearby?' Harry inquired, settling when he was reassured that he wouldn't be left behind again. He didn't do well anymore if he didn't have someone to follow.
Megatron was silent for a few clicks, considering before he spoke slower than usual across the link they had jerry-rigged between them. 'If you see a chance to retrieve it, do so, but not at risk to yourself. If you do manage to get it, you are to give it to no one but myself, unless I am offlined. Keep it secret and safe until the war ends, then take it to whomever you believe will not abuse its power. If necessary, I want you to rebuild our populations with it, away from the war.'
Had he been able to, Harry would have drooped is shoulders and wings in resignation. 'Understood. But can you try not to? You are the only mech I know. I won't be known to the other Decepticons and will possibly be offlined before I can say much.'
'Hmm.' Megatron rumbled in thought as sirens began to wail around them, lights flashing as the constant flow of nitrogen was cut off. 'I shall try. As soon as we are out, I will tell Starscream you are to report to Soundwave if anything happens to me, though he may attempt to contest the order as you are a Seeker and, as such, technically under his command as the Wing Commander.'
Harry twitched his wings, ice breaking off in sheets as he started his turbines going, swatting away a few erract scientists as he continued dialogue. 'What of the little mech, Frenzy? He will likely be offlined or worse in this place. There are too many humans.'
Megatron, shaking off his own sheets of is and humans, looked at Harry for a moment, face-plate finally free of the snarl it had been contorted in for so long. He vented and nodded. "Even on so small should not be left behind in these times."
Harry shivered his wings in a whole new manner as he heard his Lord's vocalisation for the first time. Across the link, there was only glyphs to carry across meaning and emotion, so Harry had idly been imagining the warlord's voice for some time. The vocalisation was everything he had hoped it would be; deep, rumbling and just on the edge of jagged-rough. And authoritive. Already programs were rerouting and coming out of dormancy in response. Only a handful were identified with 'carnal pleasure'.
Harry was vaguely aware of Megatron sending out a communications link as he looked around at the scrambling humans. The Megatron was passing the little silver mech to Harry. "Keep him with you and stay up and back at all times."
"Yes, Megatron." Harry noted absently that his own vocaliser was set to about the same as his own human voice had been, only it vibrated like it had when he had spoken through a moving fan as a child. The little silver mech made a disapproving squawk in his servos.
Harry just shoved the little creature into what his programs identified as a 'sparkling-hold'.
Then he and Megatron were transforming and-
A shudder ran through Harry's frame as he registered that flying by far outstripped what he remembered of sex through sheer pleasurable sensory input.
Golden Age of Cybertron.
Nort5h
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