So remember when I made that hilarious joke about not updating for another four months? Classic, amiright?

Sorry guys, I'm working on completing my major while also getting my part time job rolling and my work schedule is on average from 6 AM-10 PM. Or it was, I dropped a class, which is why I have the time to type this up instead.

Also, I've been working on a side fic for purely indulgent reasons. I figured since Finals week stress relief tends to make for crappy writing, I'd just work on a brand new fic and ended up writing like 130 pages of it. So tell me if you're interesting in reading an HPxFMA:B slice of life with an author who was very obviously experimenting with POV switches and butterfly effect. I left a sample on my tumblr blog.

Anyways I'm sure you're sick of reading my note by now, I hope this was worth the wait!

"Hey, toss the ball here."

Harry startled from his place beside his cot, sitting on the floor with his blanket bundled over him in a comfortable little shelter. He had been toying with the baseball, rolling it back and forth between his claws.

It should've been rather boring, but it took effort to keep his movements quick without slicing into the leather on accident. The coordination involved also required concentration, sometimes a wall of numbers didn't line up perfectly or he'd slip up on his own internal commands and his arm would neatly and efficiently make a completely different motion from what he wanted. It was overwhelming to be so conscious of every single action he made, he hadn't realized humans were so instinctual and chaotic before he became painstakingly aware of the most minute details, right down to his internal systems.

"Yeah come on, I'll throw it back." Sam encouraged, he had taken to showing up around noon at the base.
Optimus said this was so the Autobots could monitor his safety as an ally known to the Decepticons but it seemed to Harry like it was just an excuse for him, Mikaela, and Bumblebee to spend time together either driving around their allotted space or giggling in the corner of the hanger.

At that moment, he and Mikaela were lounging on Bumblebee's alt form hood, watching whatever movie was playing on the television. Or, at least, they were.

Now Sam was angled away from Mikaela and fully facing Harry, his desert-dusty trainers dangled by Bumblebee's doors.

Harry blinked, this wasn't the first time Sam had tried to interact with him, but it was by far the most direct.

"That's a good idea, it will help develop your coordination." Ironhide approved, "Even a seasoned soldier needs to keep his processors freshly tuned and ready to boot up any secondary programming necessary."

"Yeah, yeah. And, you know, it's more fun that all these commercials." Sam sounded nervous every time he told a joke, speaking quickly with his eyes darting every which way. It actually took until the third day Sam stuck around the hanger for Harry to even pick up on the humor.

Mikaela rolled her eyes, "Speak for yourself, I'd kill for a Shamwow. Cleaning up grease stains is such a bitch."
"Language." Ratchet and Ironhide barked in unison, causing both teenagers to jump.

"Oh, right. Sorry, I meant it's a pain."

Sam raised his hands over his shoulders, palms facing forward. "Did you wanna throw that ball any time soon? I'm not gonna steal it or anything, pretty sure I'd be vaporized."

"Not nearly that quick, boy." Ironhide shot back with a steely edge.

Bumblebee honked loudly, perhaps in protest of Ironhide's threats.

Whether or not the following silence meant they'd chosen not to pursue a fight or had just switched over to a private transmission was anyone's guess, though Harry would like to believe it was the former.

Sam's hands were still up, he must be really serious about the commercials boring him so much. Did he just like playing ball? This was the first time Harry had shown interest in the toy, much more absorbed in his books and tiny toy Lord Megatron.

Of course, tiny toy Lord Megatron was still kept close, it was tucked in the blankets right beside Harry.

Taking furtive glimpses of it from his peripheral, where all he could really see was the near identical coloring, Harry could almost pretend Lord Megatron was by his side, quiet and watching. It filled him with a wistful mix of confidence and yearning. Enough that he sometimes avoided those glances, enough that he was brave enough to toss the ball over to Sam.

Or, at least, he tried to. The ball sailed far to the left and dropped to the floor before even reaching Bumblebee, it bounced further and further away under their combined stares.

"Oh hey, I got it!" Sam slid off of Bumblebee and raced after it, giving Harry's space heaters a wide berth.

"With any luck, a few games might help Sam's coordination programs too," Mikaela giggled.

"Lord hear our prayer," Bumblebee agreed over his radio, sending Mikaela into further peals of laughter.

Harry watched stonily, he wished Bumblebee would take the teenagers for drives every day they came. Not that he truly disliked the humans, but when they chose to loiter in the base, Bumblebee was even chattier than usual.

Goofy and harmless, just the way Harry had thought he was under the dam. The friendliness had tricked Harry, he'd thought maybe Bumblebee and Lord Megatron could've learned to get along. He had stupidly ignored Lord Megatron's warnings in favor of speaking with the Autobot, and now he was separated.

The way Bumblebee kept the humor up even after stealing Harry just solidified how fake his behavior was in his mind, it was all an act.

"Incoming!"

Harry looked up to find the baseball hurtling toward his head, a streak of white in the shiny grays of the hangar. Harry hadn't even gotten up yet!

Clumsily, Harry tumbled to his knees and straightened out. He reached out to catch the ball with both servos.

Smack!

Harry pressed a servo tight against the sting of his arm, the ball had practically rattled every joint with the force of it. He had no doubt that had his arms been made of flesh instead of silver, there would be a perfect circle of prickling pink from the ball's impact.

Where pain was a blinding buzz as a human, clearing his head of all thoughts, the pain of a Cybertronian was cluttering. Already numbers, windows, inquiries flew by behind his optics.

Hissing with displeasure, Harry shook out his arm and peered around for the ball. After it had hit him, it rolled toward his bed. He couldn't see it anymore, so it had probably rolled into the shadows underneath.

Harry crouched, shifting the blanket out of the way to poke about under his cot when a cold pressure circled his entire body like the talons of a giant hawk. The pressure cinched into a sure grip and he was suddenly lifted up higher, higher, higher still.

The floor fell away at dizzying speeds, dropping far below, cot shrinking to dollhouse scale as he surged among the rafters in an Autobot's palm.

"Ahhh…" Harry gasped, quiet cry muffled further into the digits of the fist wrapped around his spindly frame. The constant rush of movement lurched to a stop, hold tightening just a centimeter further to avoid dislodging Harry with the force of his jarring halt.

A beat passed and then digits uncurled slowly to lay flat and pliant under Harry's weight, a perfectly still platform interrupted only by complex components and delicate plating.

"Does it hurt? Hold still." Harry shuffled further into the center of Ratchet's servo, allowing his vertigo to ease as he turned to peer up at the medic. Ratchet's huge, flat face hung over him, blue optics glittering with worry.

A second later, Ratchet's scanning light splashed against his frame, narrowing to a pinpoint laser over his arm. Harry squirmed uncomfortably, -I'm fine, Ratchet. It doesn't hurt.-

"Of course it does, you practically pinched your fuel tubing. Don't lie, just let me look." Ratched chided, quick and terse.

Ironhide leaned in close, faceplates set in a similar grim worry. "At least his plating held."

-It was just a baseball, I'm fine.- Harry insisted, the throbbing had even tapered off.

"Can you move your arm for me, little one? Like that, in a circle. I need to make sure none of your motor components were dislodged."

-Primus, Ratchet, let the poor spark go. Human sparklings get hit by baseballs all the time and the worst that happens is a few burst organic capillaries. There's no way that toss damaged him.- Bumblebee transmitted with a nearly audible sigh.

"Um, is baseball canceled?" Sam mumbled from somewhere down below, Harry couldn't see him past the giant, worried frown Ratchet was now sporting. He didn't want baseball to be canceled! He hadn't even caught the ball yet, they had only just begun.

Thinking hard, Harry tried his best to convince Ratchet to let him go before Sam would need to go home. Any other time and he wouldn't have minded an impromptu petting session, but he wanted to play!

Widening the lenses of his optics, Harry leaned forward, claws resting on the heated planes of Ratchet's palm. -I'm not lying, Ratchet. It really doesn't hurt.- Harry crooned, wings flaring in and out alongside his growing impatience.

Ratchet visibly melted, optics wandering past him and back down to his well-heated nest. They stayed there for a moment, warring with himself all the while. Harry waited cautiously, hope hinged on his every minute micro-expression.

Finally, "We really need to do something about your armor," He grumbled, digits stroking over Harry in their familiar, soothing way. "Don't know what the Allspark was thinking, making yours so thin."

Harry chirped happily under Ratchet's strokes, applying soft warm pressure in all the right areas. Being able to walk around on his own without freezing was great, but he had missed cuddling with Ratchet during his naps. Especially when Ratchet worried a rhythm into his plating that made him feel like heated pudding.

"Ratchet…" Jazz suddenly spoke from his position at the mouth of the hangar, a warning in his deep rumble of a voice.

"He's not exactly making it easy!" Ratchet finally cut the scanner, reluctance clear in the way his digits fluttered about Harry's arm, as though seeking out hidden hurt.

Harry caught one of Ratchet's wandering digits and the medic was so gentle his captured pointer instantly froze, as though truly overpowered by arms thinner than the tubing running through his wrist joint.

He reeled it against his paper-thin chest plate, the shine of his spark bathing the digit in cool blue tones. -I'm really fine, Ratchet. I want to play still.-

He meant to calm Ratchet with another croon, but the noise that barely escaped his mouth plate missed the mark. It sat squarely in his chest and rumbled softly, decidedly too deep for the chirping noises he'd grown used to emitting, but not deep enough to even remotely resemble the growling effect of Lord Megatron's speech.

Embarrassingly, Harry had no control over how long the noise crept through his vocal processor, dragging out far too long in the drafty hanger where everything echoed at the edges.

Ratchet didn't seem to mind though, slowly reeling him into the circle of his arms, his pointer drawing the tiniest of swirls against Harry's spark absently. There was a dreamlike quality in the expression on his face now, Harry could almost feel him rock on the tips of his peds.

A flash of electricity shot up his spine like a tickle and a window appeared before him, a wall of numbers that could be both a meaningless series of zeros and ones and information all at once. It was different from his communications engine, it wasn't a window that already existed and would continue to occupy a space in his head even when he wasn't using it.

It was freshly running program, a temporary inquiry, that sprang up for his input and couldn't be ignored like his communications engine.

-G-guardianship system activation request?- Harry parroted in confusion. -Why is it asking for access into my core process-

"Aight, that's enough!" Jazz surged forward in a thunderous racket. In one fluid motion, he plucked Harry from Ratchet's hold and gathered him up in his smaller set of servos. "Primus, Ratchet. Get a damn grip."

Ratchet jerked after them as if he and Harry were tied together by an invisible string. "Wait!"

The noise tumbling out of Harry's mouth plate abruptly ceased upon seeing the distress twisting at Ratchet's faceplates.

"He's fine lil' spark, just overheated." Jazz murmured, distinctly finer, cooler digits smoothing their way over his helm.

"Right? Ratchet?" Ironhide shoulder-checked the medic with a resounding clang.

Ratchet's optics shuttered rapidly, his face falling slack, "Um, right. Right. I'm fine, Harry. It was just…" He trailed off in a daze as clarity swam into place.

Before Harry could ask what had affected the medic, Jazz placed him with painstaking care back onto his cot. He flattened his digits into the slightest of inclines for Harry to slide back onto his warm sheets with a plop.

"There ya go," He murmured softly, straightening out his wings with a brush of his hand. "Now go play ball with Sam, he looks hella bored."
"Better than Bee, I think he actually fell asleep waiting for you guys to stop hovering." Sam snapped, the baseball already in his hand.

Ironhide actually made what could be the Cybertronian equivalent of a snort, gears grinding as he gave the yellow car a sharp kick in the tires. "Don't tell me that's all it took to stall your systems."

Though Harry knew Bumblebee wasn't actually a car, it was odd to see one give a whole-frame shudder on its own. Mikaela hummed in displeasure upon being jostled but didn't move, eyes on whatever movie was playing on the tv.

-...Ugh...Ratchet, I think something's wrong with my energon pump. It should not be directly affected by whatever counts as my parental protocols.-

"Okay, Harry. You ready this time?" Sam called, a great deal less distance between them now with his arm poised for an underhand throw.

Harry quickly shuffled off his bed and nodded his head. He crouched, digits splayed and waiting for the toss.

The conversation continued as transmissions, playing like background noise for Harry as he watched the white blur leave Sam's hand with a dramatic ha!

-Aw, first time ever hearing a sparkling release an optimal status signal, huh? That signal would've been fragging weaponized by now if you could point it in one direction.- Ironhide shared.

Harry lunged forward for the ball, but it bounced harmlessly off the ground before him and rolled to the right. He chased after it, the flaps of his wings flaring in excitement as he ran. He hadn't run since before even arriving in America. He was still clumsy and teetering, but the thrill of it didn't wane a single jot.

-Course, it's pretty pathetic when a scout gets overwhelmed by a signal. Especially a scout with one of the flimsiest parental protocols I've ever helped install.-

Eventually, the ball collided with a space heater, giving Harry the time to scoop it up. He spun back to Sam, a grin stretched wide behind his mouth plate as he presented the ball held in his claws.

"I'm open!" The teenager bent his knees like a football player ready to receive.

Jazz came to Bumblebee's defense. -Like yeh can talk, you bucket o' bolts. Yeh didn't move a single component 'til Harry stopped emittin' the damned signal.-

Harry aimed carefully, numbers and boxes falling like rain behind his optics as he worked hard at aligning the shot so that it didn't go veering wildly off course. It was like trying to solve a shape puzzle, he only knew what the correct position was after he'd achieved it and tried applying it to the calculated predictions pressing at him to make a perfect toss.

With a swing, the ball flew through the air of the hangar, too high but dropping fast.

Sam lunged to the left, fingertips barely scraping the leather of the ball as it dropped back to the cement. It bounced just the once before he seized it, only a few feet from where Harry had intended it to go.

"Better," Sam huffed, running a hand through his sweaty curls.

-Frag off, at least I was better than Ratchet. Dumb enough to attempt imprinting on a sparkling that already imprinted.-

"Ready?"

Harry whipped his head around from where he had accidentally started watching the Autobots. They were still clustered around Bumblebee's alt form, chatting away about things he was struggling to follow. If he was right, maybe the noise he made was rude? Or at least distracting, and that's what had stunned Ratchet a few minutes ago.

The ball soared again, and this time all Harry had to do was reach out and let it fall into his claws.

Of course he still missed, at it gave a dull thunk as it smacked into his chest plate before he finally caught it.

His chest plate stung, but Sam wasn't throwing nearly as hard as he had at first so he didn't even bother giving the area attention before curled his hand around the baseball and chirping triumphantly. Even his wings were happy, flapping and clicking noisily behind him.

-See if I fix you up next time a Decepticon smashes your faceplates,- Ratchet snapped back grouchily, -It was automated.-

"Later we can work it out, right now you're talked out. Yeah, whatever you say~" Bumblebee's radio sang passionately.

Ratchet glared poisonously, "Scrapheap."

Harry threw the ball, this time raising his elbow joint a little higher and experimenting with the angle of his wrist.

Sam rocked back on the heels of his trainers to catch the ball as it nearly blew right over his head. His arms pin-wheeled for a moment as he regained his balance, the rubber of his shoes squeaking against the polished cement.

"Starting to feel like I got hustled," The teenager said nervously, which meant that was probably a joke.

Harry warbled in what he hoped was a friendly way, raising his hands invitingly.

The ball was lobbed with another breathy ha! Harry's calculations ran through his helm faster than he could keep up, optics tracking the ball with fierce intensity. It was headed straight for him, he took a single step back and kept his arms low.

This time, Harry caught it.

-I caught it! I caught it! Did you see?- He asked excitedly, whirling to the Autobots. Pride made him feel light and tingly with warmth as he showed them the ball held tightly in his claws.

"Well done, little one!" Ironhide boomed enthusiastically.

Ratchet leaned in, scowl a distant memory in the wake of his beaming smile. "Fantastic catch, your learning matrix is running phenomenally."

"Knew ya could do it," Jazz said firmly.

Bumblebee blared a chime that sounded cheery and was perhaps from a video game, but Harry couldn't place it.

"Even you, Bee? I see who's the favorite now." Sam rolled his eyes before making a face at Mikaela. This finally drew her attention away from the movie as she took in the situation with a pensive look on her face, attention lingering on Sam's hangdog expression.

"Go Harry!" She fist pumped the air, drawing an indignant squawk from the other teenager.

Harry laughed in bubbly chirrups, a golden glow socketed right next to his spark. The hangar seemed far less empty then, light and easy in the soft gazes of the Autobots and teasing grins of the humans. Harry tossed the ball and Sam lobbed it at Mikaela still snickering on Bumblebee's hood.

She threw the ball back to Harry and he couldn't keep himself from hopping excitedly as he caught it again. He felt as though with one good leap, he would leave the ground and never stop rising.

The game continued on, uproarious whenever Harry caught the ball, which became more often than not, playfully jeering whenever Sam or Mikaela missed, and incomprehensible when Harry tripped or aimed poorly as condolences and advice flooded the room from all corners.

It was tiring, frustrating, and at times stressful, especially when he threw too hard and nearly gave Mikaela a black eye, but Harry couldn't remember having so much fun before.

Next time they came around for their obligatory check-in, Harry didn't think he would mind if Bumblebee didn't take them for another car ride and let them stay in the hangar again.

Harry lay sprawled out on his cot, blankets bunched about his abdomen as he gazed down at the pages of one of his brand new books, thin elbows propping his helm up. It was probably night now, given that Optimus was lounging with Ironhide by the front of the hangar, whispers like a distant thunder.

He wasn't tired, though, he'd taken a long nap earlier and was much more interested in finding out what would happen to the poor field mouse and her sick son within the crisp pages of his fantasy novel. It was so much more fun to read without pulling away from the immersion every five minutes to glance anxiously at the clock, timing his skimming just so to avoid Dudley on his way back down the stairs.

What do you think? Harry silently asked his toy Lord Megatron, the dark grey plane was propped against an elbow. In a fit of whimsy, he had perched the toy just right so it could hang over the open book as well. Do you think she should go to see the Great Owl?

Of course, Lord Megatron might respond, levity in his growling bass, her mission must be accomplished at all costs. Failure is unacceptable.

Hm, Harry mulled it over, probably not. It would be more like, As soon as the threat had been perceived, she should've confronted it head-on like a true guardian. I would've vaporized that tractor before it had the chance to move at all.

Harry giggled to himself, yes, that sounded much more like Lord Megatron. He was the leader of the Decepticons, after all. He could handle scary things all by himself, he was much scarier than an owl could ever be, great or no.

Harry flipped the page, eager to see exactly what the field mouse chose to do. A shadow broke across the cot, however, drawing Harry's attention.

"What's got ya crackin' up all by yerself, lil' spark? That book really so funny?" Jazz peered down at him curiously, the high points of his helm looking a bit like ears as he cocked his head the tiniest measure to the side.

-Er, not really. I was just playing around with my toy.- Harry transmitted shyly, giving his tiny Lord Megatron a quick glance.

Jazz traced over the plastic plane, optics narrowed and thoughtful. Harry resisted the argue to hide it under the covers as the silence stretched.

"How'dya meet 'im anyways?" Jazz finally asked, slowly levering himself down onto the ground with a shallow crash of armor against cement.

-What do you mean?-

"How didya meet Megatron? He was a popsicle, right? Did he see ya when tha Allspark turned ya Cybertronian for kicks?"

Harry stared, not sure at all where this was going. Jazz had guessed as well that the toy was a surrogate for Lord Megatron, but why would that make him curious?

"Hey, how did a little human get in there anyways?" Jazz continued, expectation plain on his faceplates.

-U-um, the Hoover Dam has tours.- Harry stared down at his book again, processors buzzing, -Me, and Dudley and Aunt Petunia went on one.-

Jazz interrupted his clumsy explanation, "Wait, you got family?" He reeled back, "But- you already imprinted under emergency guardian protocol. The hell does that even work?"

-I don't know. I don't know what that is. But I'd rather be here than with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon again. They'll be furious with me if I go back, if they don't shoot me as soon as they see m-

Jazz interrupted again, "Hold it, hold it. Go slower, yer losin' me."

There was a pause as Jazz visibly gathered up Harry had said, "Okay, so ya have a family unit. Thought ya were an orphan or shit- oh, sorry! Why would yer family unit be mad at ya? An' sparkling bonds are damn near unbreakable, ya can't just not wanna see yer family unit." He waved at the plastic plane like this proved his point, "Did ya not have time to imprint after your human creators died?"

Harry bristled, heaving himself upright to clutch his toy close and face Jazz upfront. -Well, I don't want to see them, Lord Megatron is my family now. My parents died when I was a year old and Lord Megatron is the kindest person to speak to me since.-

Jazz stared down at him, optics utterly uncomprehending. Harry scowled back, was it really so awful that he didn't want to be with the Dursleys anymore? Was he really so cold and ungrateful for not wanting to see what would happen if he showed up looking like a robotic freak? Harry hated how confused the second-in-command was, because it was genuine confusion. Because it made Harry seriously wonder if he was doing something selfish by not asking to speak with them.

He was scared, he was so scared of what they'd do. He hunched over tiny Lord Megatron, hurting with how badly he wanted the real one instead. The one who'd protect him from Uncle Vernon, who'd tell him that Aunt Petunia's sneers meant nothing. He would, wouldn't he?

"Aw, don't do that," Jazz leaned back in, humming tones of comfort, "I'm sorry, lil' spark. Didn't mean to upset ya."

-'m not upset.- Harry protested.

Jazz nodded seriously, not petting him, but cranking the volume up on that alien lullaby that eased the grip he held on toy Lord Megatron. "Course not, yer a tough lil' bot."

Pressed giant palms into the floor, Jazz relaxed with a disarming exhale of his ventilation. Harry unconsciously mimicked him, uncoiling as the fear and stress sank a little further back into the corner of his central processors he didn't touch.

"So would ya mind tellin' me how this all went down? I wanna understand, what happened from the day ya got to tha dam to now?" He asked light-heartedly, but Harry was still suspicious.

-You're not going to interrupt?-

"Heh, I promise. I promise."

Harry studied his expression, he still didn't know where all this curiosity had come from. All this because he favored a toy in Lord Megatron's colors?

But then, Harry reconsidered, maybe he was finally reaching the Autobots. Maybe this was his opportunity to convince them that he belonged with Lord Megatron? Jazz wanted his point of view, so Harry could finally explain how good Lord Megatron was without being corrected or abandoned.

-Lord Megatron and I didn't see each other until after the Allspark had changed me, I don't know exactly when. I couldn't tell how much time had passed.- Harry began slowly. -Aunt Petunia wanted to go to the tour and brought Dudley, my cousin. She didn't trust me alone in the hotel room, so I went with them.-

Jazz clearly wanted to interrupt, he squinted and glowered in frustration. But he didn't say anything, so Harry took a guess that he wanted to know why they didn't trust him alone.

-She and Uncle Vernon are always suspicious about me, they think I'll end up a hoodlum, like my dad. An' Dudley blames me for things he did so...it happens all the time, that's not important.- He dismissed.

-Anyways, during the tour, I started to...hear something. The Allspark was calling me, it was so weird. I can't describe it.- He absently rubbed over his spark, where he knew the Allspark slept in the space it had made itself.

-The lab wasn't part of the tour, I followed the call down vents and restricted areas. And- and then I saw it.- Unspeakably large, ageless and reverently carved in sigils Harry couldn't hope to understand. It had felt sacred even before Harry knew it was some sort of Cybertronian relic. -And I touched it. And it spoke to me, told me what it would do. And then it changed me.- Harry didn't repeat those words, didn't want to. They had been terrifying, they had been selfish in what they'd stolen from him, but he didn't want to share them.

-I woke up in a glass case surrounded by guards...and those scientists...and I was alone with them in that box. Not-not too long, couldn't have been more than a few days. It hurt, a lot. I didn't know what was going on, or why.- Harry didn't want to talk about that part, a despairing limbo in which he had been completely alone. -There was no one there, the scientists didn't even think I could speak.-

-But finally, Lord Megatron communicated with me.- A balm for every stinging hurt delivered to him, a comfort when all he could see was darkness ahead of him.

-He taught me to use my comm unit, what a designation was, what everything was. He was concerned for me, he wanted to know how I felt, he wanted to help me. Even when he couldn't move, he wanted to help.- Harry stared up at Jazz, optics firm, affection blooming fiercely in his chest.

-I was moved into a box next to him, and he took care for me for the next few days. Answered all my questions, started me on wing exercises. He promised he'd protect me, and we'd talk about what we'd do once we escaped together.- Harry looked back down, swallowing hard, -Always together.-

Jazz remained silent, a little more somber now in the lines of his pauldrons and curve of his spine.

-He promised he'd stop the scientists from hurting me, promised he'd punish them for freezing me, for cutting me and- and...all those things. And he did! Dr. Monroe said it, he destroyed everything after he escaped, for me. Just like he promised.- Could Jazz see now? The care Lord Megatron wielded just under the cloak of his cruelty?

-I don't know how much time passed while we were in the lab. A week, maybe? But then Bumblebee was brought in. Lord Megatron didn't want to trust him, wanted to leave him behind. I didn't listen and spoke with him, encouraged them to speak with each other. I thought- Harry thought he could feel his denta bare under his mouth plate, a bolt of fury and betrayal striking through him. -I thought he could be trusted, he wanted to be friends. He was so nice. But then he took me and left Lord Megatron behind, I couldn't do anything to stop him. I should've obeyed Lord Megatron, if Bumblebee hadn't known I was there, I would've gone with Lord Megatron.-

-Then he took me to you all, and-and you're not bad.- Harry knew they were trying, from toys to games to fussing, the Autobots cared. -But I miss him, we were supposed to get out together.-

Harry looked down at his toy, smoothing a claw over the dark windows. He'd trade all the things the Autobots had given him, down to the space heaters, if it meant he could be with the real thing.

Jazz lifted a servo from the cement, slowly plucking at his blanket until it was wrapped around him, and then he scooped Harry up with it. Tucked like a burrito, Harry was leaned at a comfortable incline against Jazz's thrumming chest plate, those comforting frequencies vibrating like a lovely roar. Harry went limp, soaking up the comfort as best he could. He wasn't going to cry again, even if he wanted to.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Jazz murmured, petting over his helm. "Course you miss him, made ya feel safe, didn't he?"

Harry wasn't going to cry, even if he wanted to.

Harry pressed against him, servos clenching in the blanket. He nodded into Jazz's plating, the mech was right. He missed Lord Megatron and his unshakeable sense of security, he'd only had the briefest taste of it at the lab and now it felt like he'd be stressed and scared about one thing or another for the rest of his life.

Hugged so tight, reminiscent of the way he squeezed toy Lord Megatron to himself but so much more delicately, Jazz hummed louder into his audio processors. "I saw what page ya were on, I can read it to ya if ya want. Tell ya a story in return."

Harry, he'd been read to before, by preschool teachers and during the occasional lecture. But not in the way Jazz was offering, quiet and soft in the barest murmur Harry could glean after bedtime in the cramped space under the stairs, echoing through the floorboards as Aunt Petunia entertained Dudley before he slept.

Greedy for the experience, Harry buried his face against Jazz and nodded again.

Jazz wasn't Lord Megatron, he didn't inspire that same sense of safety. He wasn't a replacement and Harry didn't want any of the Autobots to be that. But he still nodded off in contentment as Jazz narrated the book in gentle tones, detailing how the field mouse heard of the rats in the rose bush.

"Nearly there, you're relying too hard on the processor itself. Check how you're decompressing those pitch commands."

"Aahhhwwwww!"

"Sounds like yer focusin' too much on yer glossa, leave it be when yeh start."

"Ahhooooowwwww!"
"You're so close! Frag, Bumblebee, I'd be embarrassed if I were you. He's leaving you in his exhaust trail."

"Language, Ironhide."
"Sorry, Prime!"

"Aooowwwwww!"

-Language, Ironhide. Tsk tsk.-

"What's that? I can't hear you with Harry on my shoulder like this."
-...That was low….-

-Should I move?- Harry glanced anxiously up at Ironhide.

The weapons specialist had suggested they continue practicing to speak, this time focusing on another vowel. Harry had been delighted, he wanted so badly to speak again. Just because he was getting used to making bizarre electronic and bird-like noises whenever his body felt like it didn't mean he had gotten used to being essentially mute.

Ironhide had even been nice enough to place him on a heated pauldron, closer to his auditory receptors and just this side of cuddly when Harry pressed himself against the glinting line of Ironhide's neck.

Harry wanted to stay there, it was comfier than it looked and he delighted in the way Ironhide would every so slightly tilt his head and scrape the thinnest of paneling on his chin over Harry's helm like a giant missile-proof cat. But if he was being a nuisance then he'd much rather go back to his cot and practice on the ground, away from pets and massages.

"Course not, I want to hear you over that virus-riddled gearhead." Ironhide denied flippantly, gently nuzzling Harry a little bit closer, until he was fully slumped against the most vulnerable portion of Ironhide's throat, pressed right against the vibration of his vocal processor.

"Now try it again. Like this, ohhhhhh!"

"Aaaaoooooooh!"

"Message from Starfleet, captain." Bumblebee suddenly transformed from his alt mode, baby blue optics searing in their abrupt grimness.

-We've got company.-

The hangar was immediately drained of laughter, the bleached grays of the cement seemed to leach the very warmth from the air. Every Autobot was now facing Bumblebee, the nearly inaudible whining pitch of weapons activating the only noise to echo through the rafters.

"What do you mean?" Optimus finally asked flatly.

-I'm picking up some chatter, but it's encrypted. The source is coming in hot.-

"Where is it goin'?"Jazz demanded, "Is the slagger shootin' for us?"

-Negative. With the trajectory it has now, it'll probably land in the Pacific Ocean. At least a cycle off.-

"Do ya think they're gonna try tunnelin' under that deep?"

Optimus shook his helm thoughtfully, a new piercing sharpness to his gaze. "No, sinking to the ocean floor would crush them from that far out. Perhaps they're attempting to avoid detection through seismic activity from their impact upon landing?"

"Only a Decepti-creep would be that fraggin' glitched, I swear to Primus."
"Language!" Ironhide snapped.

"Sorry, Harry," Jazz said, tone abruptly softening. This lull in conversation gave Harry his opening into their fast-paced deductions, he scooted forward on Ironhide's pauldron.

-Wait,- Harry blinked, -You're going to attack them? But aren't they just landing?-

They were talking about a Decepticon, right? He knew his temporary guardians were the enemies of the Decepticons but were they really going to hunt the poor Cybertronian down just because they could?

"Little one," Optimus leaning into Ironhide's space so Harry wasn't craning his neck to make optic-contact. "Why do you think this Decepticon is landing here? Already communicating with the others? There are billions of planets in the universe, they picked this one in order to fight us."

Harry hated the way Optimus spoke, like a teacher lecturing in something Harry didn't understand. All expectations and half-explained thoughts, as if Harry should already know the rest.

-I don't- You don't know for sure. Did you land here just to fight Lord Megatron? They have the same right to be here as you do!-

There was an awkward pause, a note that skipped over Harry as Optimus blinked slowly down at him. Harry suspected one of the other Autobots was deliberately speaking to their leader on a transmission Harry hadn't been included in.

He straightened, somber regret etched into his faceplates. "We will discuss this later, little one. Unfortunately, I don't have the time to answer all your questions."

Before Harry could protest further, Major Lennox appeared in a cacophony of harsh booted steps and clinking gear, several soldiers including Epps at his back.

"We've got a UFO headed right for us, do you have any intel?" He barked, straight to the point, shoulders squared aggressively.

"We have strong reason to believe it's a Decepticon. As of right now, it is set to land three-thousand miles west from this base."

"Shit. Okay," Lennox's eyes, mere dots of sapphire from Harry's perspective, roved over the Autobots calculatingly.

"That's still in American waters, we'll pull out ASAP. Who's coming?"

"Prime, me, Bee, an' Ratchet." Jazz tallied off.

Epps stepped forward, brow furrowed, "You don't wanna bring big, mean, killin' machine over there with you?" He gestured at Ironhide incredulously, attention clearly fixed on his bulky cannons.
Sitting on his pauldron as Harry was, he couldn't see his expression, but Harry didn't need to guess that the weapons specialist was feeling pleased about garnering such an appraisal. He's fairly certain he rose an inch higher into the air with the way Ironhide was preening.

"Sorry, I'm on sparkling duty. I'll serve as back up should anything get past Prime's unit."

"We don't have time for this, the Decepticon is already getting a head start as it is. We must pursue." Optimus urged, stepping forward with his own selected team following in tandem.

Lennox nodded, features icing over. "Got it, follow me. I'll get some transport together, we'll be in the air within ten minutes."

Harry didn't want them to hurt the poor unsuspecting Decepticon, ganging up on them as if they owned Earth. It was no better than Dudley in a sandbox with other children, and he hoped whoever was landed got away in time. It would be great if Lord Megatron had more friends to help keep him safe.

But...seeing their backs turn, the blinding sunlight bathing the Autobots in silhouette, something in Harry's abdomen squirmed nervously. Anxiety crawled under his plating, he didn't want them to go either!

Why did they have to go fight anyways? Anger warred with worry in his increasingly tight helm, it was stupid. He wanted them to turn right back around and come back, leave each other alone.

"Don't worry, Harry," Ironhide growled comfortingly in his audio receptor, "They'll be fine."

-They shouldn't fight.- Harry scowled after them, stubbornly squashing his fear to fan his irritation.

"Believe me, little one, they don't want to fight either." Ironhide sighed, ventilation fans whirring in his chest cavity.

Harry folded his arms sulkily against his chest plate. -Then they shouldn't! Optimus should just leave the Decepticons alone.-

"It's a bit more complicated than that, but I don't think now's the time for a history lesson." Ironhide gently tucked Harry into the curve of his palm and lowered Harry slowly to his cot. The little black tv remote that had been sitting by Bumblebee's alt form was then dispensed into his lap.

"Watch one of those non-holo vid things, it'll keep your processors off things. You'll be fine, I promise." There was so much unspoken affection in Ironhide's gaze, it was foreign and thrilling and far too effective in cooling Harry's temper. He couldn't deny the mech's sincere attempts at calming him down, and carefully turned on the tv with digits that ended in fine points. He didn't want to pierce the rubber of the buttons, already his baseball was full of pinpricks despite his best efforts.

There wasn't anything he could do, as much as it stung. He couldn't warn the poor Decepticon, he couldn't ask Lord Megatron to help, he couldn't even stop the Autobots. He was useless without even chores to take his mind off things.
So, with nothing else to do, anger and worry tumbling just beneath the surface, Harry switched the channel until he came across bright cartoons that he supposed were meant for children his age.

It wasn't nearly as fun as catch with Sam and Mikaela or practicing his speech with the Autobots, but it would do. He pulled his toy Lord Megatron off his pillow to wrap himself around it, pressing the plastic against his own clicking armor as tightly as he could without breaking it.

Ironhide looked away, shifting to face the door like a sentry as the tv's squeaky babbling made a hollow attempt at replacing the Autobots' usual clammer.

"Considering the Decepticon's trajectory, we're most likely dealing with a seeker." The red semi truck announced from its place at the front of the cargo hold.

"A plane, right?" Lennox wished he'd triple-checked his notes now. The Autobots had been pretty forthcoming about their enemies, but it was a whole lot of unfamiliar words to sort through during any given discussion.

"Yeah, that or the fragger's gonna try sinkin' to avoid detection. So break out your most pimped out airforce an' naval shit." Jazz added, not even bothering to repress the eager edge in his voice. For some reason, Lennox thought their voices would be tinnier in their car disguises, like speaking through a radio or from behind their hoods.

Epps waved him off, "We've already alerted our Hawaiian forces, we'll have plenty of air support."

"It's storming over there, though. Naval is having a rough time of it, but that means we can keep civilians out of the way easier. So don't hold back when we deploy." Lennox instructed, yanking the straps of his pack tighter for the fifth time since boarding, a nervous habit his drill sergeant could never break him of.

"Probably a good thing. You saw what these suckers can do in Qatar, like hell we need one punchin' a hole into one of our ships." Epps added grimly, hot desert hysteria in his dark eyes.

It had only been a scant handful of weeks since Lennox, Epps, and the surviving remnants of his team had been pulled out of the longest chase of their lives, weary, stumbling steps dogged endlessly by the tireless machine pursuit of their predator.

That robot, Scorponok as Optimus Prime helpfully identified him during a briefing, had made it easy to support the Autobots. Anyone, anything that could stop the utter destruction that Decepticons left in their wake were worth snatching up with both hands if only to keep his men alive.

As if hearing this thought, Prime spoke, "We will provide a distraction so that your ships may avoid direct fire." His promise a balm to the burning apprehension raked over Epps' face. His teammate's shoulders relaxed with a breath and his expression firmed.

"And you'll have aerial support to keep your asses out of trouble."

Lennox leaned forward onto the tops of his knees, brushing against Epps as he did so. Now that he had all the variables, it was time to nail down a concrete plan for the Autobots to follow. It was vital that this work, not just for the future of national relations with the Autobots, but for the fate of his country as well.

The Autobots were in the form of expressionless, ordinary cars and trucks, but the abrupt heaviness of the air around him made it clear he'd gotten their attention.

"Once the naval forces arrive, they'll be designated to long range and island defense. Aerial will provide support for both naval and offense. You'll be part of offense along with some of my men, but keep in communication and we'll play fast and loose with strategy so long as the job gets done. Island integrity and civilian populations are our number one priority. The second highest is extermination or capture of the target, whatever happens first." He spoke quickly, confidently, slipping into the skin of a major to hide the nerves crawling just underneath.

"My medical officer Ratchet was brought to detect Decepticon activity, he is not specialized for close range combat. I suggest he be placed with your naval defense rather with our team." Was Prime's response, a little too slow to be considered obnoxiously immediate, a little too fast to be truly thoughtful.

"Alright, but he needs to be discreet. Ratchet will be placed on the shoreline and is not cleared to engage unless shoreline naval forces are cleared or he engages offshore." Lennox bargains like a good major does. But even he knows that if push comes to shove, he'll take broken rules over a failed objective any day. If Ratchet gets a clear shot from the shoreline, he won't have a problem burying it under paperwork before it ever gets to the higher ups.

"Hell yeah, that bitch ain't gonna know what hit em," Jazz revved, the porsche actually shifted on its wheels like a kid hopping excitedly from leg to leg.

"Hell yeah," Epps echoed, a bemused quirk to his lips. He exchanged a look with Lennox in a burst of good humor, before allowing it to fall away as the cargo hold quieted.

In four hours, they were going to kill a Decepticon, failure was not an option.

Several episodes had gone by in a reel of loud colors and fast movement that naturally drew the eye. Harry watched with begrudging interest as the story continued from where ever he had unceremoniously dropped in.

A particularly dizzying fight scene played out, with dramatic declarations from either opponent and bright light and sound effects ringing out whenever they connected. Harry wasn't sure who would win, and leaned closer in anticipation. He didn't know either character past their names and catchphrases, but he hoped the good guy one, his team was counting on him.

Distracted as he was, he didn't notice the subtitles under the battle was over and the bad guy was soundly defeated.

"Ah," Harry mumbled in surprise, optics finally trailing down far enough to see the dialogue slowly crawling across the bottom of the screen.

Ironhide shifted for the very first time since placing himself before the entrance like a living gate. "What? Is something wrong?"

-No, the subtitles are on is all. Maybe I accidentally hit something.- Harry explained, casting a speculative glance to the remote in his lap. There weren't any buttons that said subtitles, and that was about as far as Harry's problem solving could go when it came to machines.

Ironhide relaxed, slowly turning back to his original position. "Oh, don't worry about it. I'll get a human to fix it later."

Chirping in thanks, Harry disregarded the subtitles and let the next episode run, goofy and stuffed with jokes that drew the occasional giggle. Every now and then he'd glance down without meaning to and read the dialogue being spoken at the same time.

Until it wasn't.

DON'T REACT.

Harry stared, that's not what the character had said.

The words flashed again, DON'T REACT. Harry leaned forward again, was there a glitch or something?

DO NOT ALERT THE AUTOBOT MOVE YOUR PED TO ACKNOWLEDGE THIS INSTRUCTION.

Harry glanced at Ironhide's back, he was taking his guarding duty very seriously. Why wasn't he wasn't allowed to talk to him? Was it okay to hide things from the mech? He could get in trouble, this could be some sort of trick.

Guilt and confusion had him curling around his toy plane, it was probably a bad idea to listen to a tv, they weren't supposed to be able to talk. Something was definitely wrong.

Still, Harry turned back to the screen, curiosity burning. He shifted a ped in a manner he hoped looked casual.

The subtitles disappeared for a moment, completely incongruous to the characters shouting at each other on screen. Harry stared, completely frozen. What had he done? What had happened?

Then, GREETINGS SPARKLING I AM DESIGNATION FRENZY DECEPTICON SPY UNDER LORD MEGATRON'S COMMAND

Unbidden, Harry's vents hitched.

LONG LIVE LORD MEGATRON

"Okay so I was neglected by my family-"

"Lost me, try again."

"So they don't love me-"

"Try going slower."
"Look, I'm afraid to go home-"
"Does anyone know what this sparkling is trying to say?"

-Jazz, 2007

Poor Ratchet has a hard time not being a wreck in front of Harry ala past war trama, so Jazz steps in to be the levelheaded one. I give him a solid B+ in parenting.

So you guys have brought up how mama bear all the bots are gonna be over Harry's childhood so far, and I think that's kind of funny because in this AU I frankensteined for myself, domestic child abuse is a completely foreign concept. It's gonna take a while for our poor sunshine children to comprehend that a guardian could NOT love Harry. They didn't even think it was completely out of character for megs to take him in. Don't worry, they'll get there.

Did anyone catch my foreshadowing before with the cable box? I tried to sneak Frenzy into two chapters and so far no one's brought it up, so I'm curious.

Also, hey! Humans! I'm trying to fix Sam and Mikaela into likeable loser teenagers, tell me how I'm doing. Sam, Mikaela, and Lennox need to be part of our supporting cast if there's gonna be any tension over Decepticon carnage.

Harry uses optimal status signal on Ratchet-

It was a critical hit!

But yeah, I hope that made sense, it'll come back for a bit more fleshing out once things quiet down.

I loooved the reviews I got for the last chap, I laughed, I cried, it moved me, Bob.

Optimus is absolutely the begrudged step dad in this disfunctional family, headcanon accepted.

You guys have pointed out a few inconsistencies. One with the servo thing, and yeah, I have no idea what this word means when applied to Transformer shows. Because it changes from show to show, from episode to episode. Anyone watch TF Animated? It's mostly synonymous with hand "He said lend a servo, not slice a servo." and that's how I'm using it. It's one of those continuity things where we're all right and wrong at the same time, so excuse me for not taking your advice.

GreyHowler brought up an interesting thing I had no idea about. Bumblebee and Megatron had met before and that's why he can't talk. I was using some wiki pages to fill in holes in my memory from the movie, but I could've sworn it said he screwed it up in his fight with Barricade but that might've been an assumption on the page's fan authors. Huh, the more you know.

Theonlyliverpoolninja said my Megatron reminds her of Picard and that's honestly one of the nicest things anyone's said about my characterization. I wish I could respond directly like in Ao3, but thanks so much!

But seriously, you guys are so supportive and I honestly couldn't ask for better readers. Thank you all so much!

Okay but onto actual questions.

Blaze1992 asked if (1) Voldie is dead. No he isn't, he's still got a few horcruxes left after Harry's. Harry's involvement in the rest of the HP plot will be to a minimum since he's no longer relevant, though.

(2) The terra-former thing is interesting, I didn't think of that. To keep him out of S7 clutches, the Autobots are banking hard on his automatic Cybertronian citizenship so I don't think it will come up (unless Sam cracks a joke).

(3) I don't know if you mean POV back and forth or Harry's back and forth (and whether you mean physically or emotionally) so I'll just say for conflict.

(4) Yes.

Jordansdevil asked if Harry will receive a letter. No he won't, he no longer has magic so he isn't listed anymore. Obviously, people back home will freak out about this later.

Okay, I think that's it. Thanks for staying with me and please leave a review on your way out! I may be the slowest writer of all time, but even slow writers need fuel! Thanks!