Hello dear readers! No, this is not a hallucination - I am indeed posting yet another new story. But not to worry, I am already in the process of rewriting a few of my older ones. Some of the new and improved chapters have already been posted for "Riddle Me This", "Behind Those Emerald Eyes", and "His Witch, Trouble". New chapters for "Blood of My Enemy" and "Paying in Blood" should also be up very soon, so stay tuned!

This story was actually a request from the lovely user Kiyomi Uzumaki, and I dedicate this written piece to them.

It's also inspired by "Magical Sparkmate" by ChronoQuantify, so please check this out as it's a really interesting read!

Now a fair warning to all my readers - if you've read some of my other stories before, you'll notice that majority of them lean on the darker side. So please tread carefully as they may cause triggers.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Transformers. However, I do own Alex.

Pairings: Reverse Harem!Mechs/Alex Potter; Sam Witwicky/Mikaela Banes; Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy; mentions of Blaise Zabini/Daphne Greengrass, Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger, Theodore Nott/Luna Lovegood, Past!Theodore Nott/Alex Potter and Past!Draco Malfoy/Astoria Greengrass

Warnings: Language, Character Death, Violence, Slash, Possible Mature Scenes, Possessive Behavior (possibly bordering on Obsessive Behavior), Mentions of Suicide and Self-Harm

"Speaking"

'Thoughts'

"Parseltongue"

"Cybertronian"

They say that war never changes. But men do, through the roads they walk [1].

Harry and Alex Potter had hoped to reach the end of that road a decade ago.

It's been nine years since the Battle of Hogwarts – since they had defeated the madman known as Voldemort, and losing countless of friends and family in the devastation. Life after the battle hadn't been much better – not for the Weasleys, nor the Malfoys, and certainly not for the Potter twins. The grief seemed almost endless and loomed over them like a dark cloud for the longest time as people mourned for their loved ones lost.

A year after, things had definitely changed with the restoration of their beloved school and the reshaping of the Ministry of Magic. Neither twin returned to Hogwarts in September 1998 to complete their final year. Instead, they assisted Kingsley Shacklebolt – who had been elected as Minister following the Second War – in capturing the remaining Voldemort supporters and with the eradication of pro-pureblood laws. It was a slow and grueling process, but with promising results.

Years down the line, the Wizarding World was moving forward again, and life for the Potters had been relatively normal in a sense. And yet, it wasn't.

In those years, their friends had aged gracefully, coming out of their shells and some growing out of their childish tendencies and petty rivalries. The twins had been amongst the few who had changed the most – from children blinded to the existence of magic, to saviors of the Wizarding World. But here they were, walking amongst their peers, physically untouched by time and as youthful as the day they stood victoriously on the battlefield.

It was only when a fatally injured Harry had been sent to St. Mungos after a skirmish with dark wizards, had they made an unwanted discovery. By the time he had seen a healer, the deep gash on his chest was almost completely mended. It shouldn't have been possible even with magic, according to Healer Davis, with the amount of dark essence imbued into the wound that rapidly made its way to his heart. In fact, he should have been dead. But somehow, Harry's healing rate had heightened exponentially and left no trace that he had been injured at all.

They did not age. And it seemed they could not die either – at least, not easily. In a way, they had become practically immortal. The very thing Voldemort had sought throughout his parasitic life was undesirably bestowed upon them, but neither sibling could fathom how or why.

The realization had struck them hard, the weight settling in their chests as heavy as it had been before the war with countless lives resting on their shoulders. Their loved ones were no longer in peril; but now they had to endure as every single one of them would pass on due to sickness or old age, while they remain unchanged.

Were they cursed? Had they offended some deity or being of higher power, for them to have everything they had tried so hard to protect ripped away from them at any given instance? They couldn't help but ponder how emotionally deprived Voldemort must have been to actively seek such a life – one with no attachments and no real significance, and would eventually grow duller as the days went on.

"At least we have each other." Alex had whispered one night, as she relished in the comfort of her brother's consoling embrace.

And like when they were children, Harry simply held her, letting his actions speak where words often failed him, "Together. Always." It was during these moments that both experienced a semblance of peace, which unfortunately, was never meant to last. Not for them.

Nine years was a lot of time to stew in their grief and bask in their joyful experiences, and one would assume that memories of war would be long since buried.

But to the Potters, time had all but become irrelevant in its meaning.

[1] – Quote from Fallout, New Vegas

~Cassandra