Author Note: Chapter goes to Elderthuriaz, bcogz, bloodynightmare and Dream Bound Nightmare for reviewing. And for those wondering, this is cross-posted on A03 now. This chapter is long; I have no idea why it was split into two separate chapters by Event. . Thank you so much for the criticism I enjoy it and want to hear more. Please.

This chapter kicked my ass. Hard. It's just awkward. Also my internet was cut for a few days thanks to a storm. Sorry for the late update, but at least it's lengthy.

Semi-Automatic

Part One: Misplaced

Chapter Three: South Ward

"Son of a…" Jak hissed, hands rushing to protect his eyes. Harry had the fortune to hear the door release in time to look away. It flared from behind his lids in a burst of angry, muted orange. Jak, who had been practically swallowed by the light, nursed white spots and strained eyes. He swore vehemently under his breath, using terms that Harry had no context to. He had no idea what a Yakkow was, but he was absolutely sure he wanted the thing nowhere near him. It made him smile for as long as it took him to realize who stood at the door to their cell.

Alec Vine.

He stood before them, expression stern but passive. "Get up," he ordered to Harry, almost bored, and watched Jak rub hard at his eyes with a bemused twitch of his lips. "You two are coming with me."

Begrudgingly, Jak moved blindly forward squinting. Vine waited on Harry patiently; eyes bored as the boy tried to convince his locked and sore joints to move. Pain spiked up his spine, white and hot, and he fell back with a gasp. Jak, halted at Vine's side, glancing worriedly over his shoulder as Harry took in deep breaths to gather himself. A bitter, angry part of Harry didn't want to move. It wanted to stay there, rest, and be defiant. He cared little, then, what they did to him if he didn't listen, what more could they do to him than the treatments?

"Potter," Vine warned, but Harry bit the inside of his cheek as his hands trembled with fear. "This isn't the time to start acting—"

Jak reacted, stepping quickly back into the cell to grasp Harry's shoulder. "He's not disobeying, he can't move." Jak told the Commander, working his arm behind Harry's back to push and with a crack Harry's spine eased with a rush of cool relief. Jak helped him to his feet and into the hall as Vine followed behind.

"Thanks," He muttered under his breath, Jak giving him a discreet nod.

"The new recruits were already given the customary tour of South Ward before you two were released from the hospital." Vine started almost conversationally, "Since you are joining their roster, I'm giving you a cursory glance at it."

He studied Jak critically. "It's in your best interest not to try to run off. I'm giving you credit by not chaining you up like a croca-dog."

Jak grunted in displeasure, but showed his palms in an act of submission and stuck close to Harry's side.

"Invisera is comprised of five individual sectors," he told them, waving for them follow. "You are being held in Sector 0, often called Central by the rank-and-file. The Hospital, Science Centre, and housing for the Officers are located here."

Once they moved through the crowded sector, they came to a pink-tinted glass tunnel with blue bay doors. Vine explained the tunnels were the only way to pass through sectors and each corridor was heavily monitored and secured. As Invisera sat on the very edge of the 'Ivory Jungle' the desert beyond on the glass was all there was on the south side.

"This," Vine offered as the doors slid apart to a large enclosed field, "is the training sector." Unlike Central it was open and without the smell of exhaust. One building was stationed at the back, standing out against the iron-grey walls that enclosed the facility. Obstacle courses and gun ranges were set up in strict, uniform patterns across the sector with a purpose for each. A few men and women sparsely populated it, repairing broken beams and splintered structures. Vine said little else as they passed down the long beaten path to the next bay entrance.

'This is what I expected,' Harry thought as the untamed jungle engulfed the tunnel. It cast a hard shadow, only broken by the flickering sodium lights laid into the top of the passage. Harry glanced to Jak only to find him lost. His brow had loosened - eyes soft and longing. He ran his hand across the glass, gnawing at his bottom lip as creatures darted in between the large ferns and tree trunks.

"Jak?" He asked quietly, nudging the elder boy with his elbow.

"It's nothing," he replied harshly.

"I'm sure," Harry muttered, put off. Jak had spoken often of his home village, Sandover, and trouble he found himself in the jungle just beyond the boundaries. Harry supposed if anything in this world reminded him of home, he'd be right with Jak pressing his face against the glass to remember every minute detail before it was snatched away from him. Again.

The next sector they came to was a replica of the last. The yard the same size with the same uniformly cut grass. Tents were lined up at one end, among them men and women dressed in blue tunics and dark green camouflage slacks. They didn't speak, most looking to be exhausted, and carried their task out robotically. They tore down the orange tents, piling forgotten gear on either side, and several others marched back and forth from a large incinerator slot in the wall that spat out black swelling fumes in gurgling bursts.

"These," Vine took Harry's attention with a demanding snap of his fingers just beyond his nose, "are the showers, your class buildings, Mess Hall, Armory, and Weapons Storage." He directed them to several of the buildings, but ignored several others that struck up on the field.

"And those?" Jak questioned, pointing high over Harry's left should to the last two sectors. They weren't walled like the rest, but topped with web-like blue glass domes.

"Those," Vine adjusted his visor, "Are the Virtual Reality Simulators."

'Virtual Reality?' Harry agonized, 'I'm trapped in a sci-fi nightmare.'

They were lead back to Sector O1, the Training Centre – or the Pit – and Vine left them momentarily as he went into the lone building. Two guards were waiting for them on the wooden porch, watching like hawks as their Commander disappeared.

'No chance of escape,' Harry felt his stomach twist with dread, 'This place is a fortress.'

He shared an uneasy glance with Jak, both of them ultimately deciding it was better to stand there and wait. While Jak stood, flexing his hands at his side nervous and anxious, Harry could only contemplate. Jak was jumpy, expecting the worst at every moment, but not unable to handle it should it present itself.

Harry was different in that regard, he supposed. He knew a bad situation when he saw it… Magical castles and his adventures therein, or mishaps depending on who you asked, were a bit more in his league than this. This type of situation wasn't anything he had been through or prepared for. He was good at the 'rush in blindly and hope magic will save you and don't expect anything because keys fly and chess kills you.' bit. Not the stand around, a prisoner – experiment – and wait to see what happens.

This was all too normal for him. Magic, his go to, couldn't save him now and his luck had fled with his sense some time ago. This was life at the Dursleys'. Walking on eggshells, snapping to commands, and staying out of arms reach.

"Don't you think they're a little young, Alec?"

Harry eyes fled back to the porch, Vine having returned and dismissed the guards with another man in tow. The elf stood taller than Vine and was sickly thin. His face was gaunt and all together ill looking; it was sharp and unfortunate, silver hair shaggy and brown eyes lazy and sleepless. A cigarette hung limply from scarred lips, eyes assessing Harry and Jak in turn with disappointment and irritation. He carried himself so painfully similar to his Potions Professor that Harry wondered if they could be related.

"It doesn't matter," Vine told him shortly, "It is on Neverous's orders, Tomaris, I know better than to question it."

The man chuckled, fingering the dog tags that hug low on his chest. "Aye, aye Commander, calm down. I'll take them to the division, get them sorted with Cassin. You won't know them from manners next you see the 'Biters.'"

Harry's skin crawled as the man smiled, teeth prefect despite his unkempt appearance. 'Out of the frying pan and into the fire,' fought for a place to describe the situation he found himself in. One that kept changing on the hour, it seemed.

"Welcome to Hell Week, boys."

Training Instructor Cassin Del was possibly one of the strictest, no-nonsense men that Harry had the displeasure of meeting. He wore nothing like the plated armor that Vine or the guards did, but a blue zipper jacket with his rank displayed on his shoulder flashes. A black non-descript shirt beneath that with the insignia of Invisera printed in white over his left breast. His slacks, pure black as well, were tucked perfectly into standard metal plated combats.

He stood on a platform above the division they had been lined up in filled with elves varying in ages and state of dress. Cassin Del, purple haired and barrel chested, stepped off the dais with an electronic touch screen Harry had seen the scientists in the Science Centre carry. He drew himself between the lines of men and women, tapping the screen to contemplate the mug shot and accompanying information. Twenty-five lines of three spread out before the Training Instructor with feet should width a part and hands clasped behind their backs. Harry had been placed near the middle with Jak to his right and he prayed the man would pass by him without as much as a glance to his name.

"So you're the one that's got him all in a tizzy… smaller than I expected, but I never thought to see a human in my life time." Cassin muttered, not bothered to look at his screen. Harry could feel the eyes on the division on him and he was once again the unwanted side-show attraction. Harry was relieved when he moved on from him to Jak.

He scrolled lazily, as if unimpressed with Jak's first impression, and tapped on what Harry could only assume to be his name. His picture came up, a line of runes across the photo, and the man looked as curious as he was dubious. "Only one this time?" He chuckled, Harry instantly knowing what those runes had told him of Jak and by the way Jak's expression hardened he knew too. "He uses younger and younger, it seems. Got standards for you kid," he told him with a gruff laugh, "your kind usually does well before they expire."

Finished with Jak, who was left scowling at his feet, Cassin took stock of the young woman on his other side. In the seventy-five people that made the division, there were maybe ten or so women. He said little to her and she said little back as he continued through the lines.

"Welcome, then, as I guess it should be said." He remarked one he returned to the dais, handing off his device to another. "I'm Training Instructor Cassin Del. I am in charge of your first year of training."

He turned to face them, hands clasped behind his back. His tone said he had said this speech a million times and he knew he would say it a million more. "If you make it past me, you've the pleasure of the tender care of our Lieutenant General. These walls are your new home for the next two years," he paused, "You've all been pre-tested and proven capable enough to attend the first weeks training." Cassin told them with a crooked smile, "Which means little. A lot of idiots make it past the first test."

Harry closed his eyes then, having to breathe slowly to keep himself from panicking. The man's voice faded as he continued his speech and Harry took the moment to ask himself the depth of his own stupidity. Was it because he had trusted a stranger? Or was it because he was so bewilderingly naïve to believe that nothing was going to go so horrendously wrong at the end of tournament when his name flew out of the cup?

Either way, he thought grimly, he was utterly screwed.

"Don't expect the luxuries of home. Here you will eat, sleep, and train together. We're going to push you to your limit and beyond that to see if you are even worth a damn. You will learn to survive in the harshest environments our fucked up world has to offer, to fight and kill without a second's hesitation."

Harry's hands began to tremble at the weight of his words.

"You will be tested again and again. Improvise, adapt, and overcome. That is your life now. It will keep you alive longer than any weapon in your hand will. Just remember," Cassin chuckled, "You all signed up for this. Three to a team, six to a platoon!" He barked suddenly, his demeanor changing drastically as the men at his side dispersed. The line in front of him, his own, and several back were officially named Platoon Nine.

"Misconduct," Cassin called out, "Will result in immediate discharge." What was left unsaid was directed at Harry and Jak and it screamed severe consequences as Del's eyes rested on them knowingly. "Expect," he sighed, "to leave here with a few scars. This is Invisera, after all."

"Change," ordered a solider near Harry, gesturing to a trash bin set beside him. "All of it goes in there. Be quick about it."

His entire body ached as he pulled the scrubs off. The bruises from the latest treatment hadn't eased yet and neither had the ugly gash up his side. He redressed in a dark navy shirt and white camo-print trousers with a thick buckle belt. He tugged on his boots, mid-calf leathers, and grunted as his back protested every minor contortion of his body. When the division was dressed, Cassin ordered them away. In a large group, they back tracked to Sector 02. The field had been cleared by now and they were give packs and vague instructions to pitch their tents. Jak and the girl tackled the task immediately, Harry following whispered instructions from Jak. His childhood had never been filled with those pleasant family camping trips. Once the work had been finished, they gathered their thin orange mates and arranged them tightly together inside.

Taking a moment to breath, Harry set his eyes on the fire-lit sky and swallowed a sigh and only felt daunted.

The girl slipped through the flap without a word, followed by Harry and Jak. She took the far end, Harry the middle, and Jak the last. As he lay on the flat of his back, looking to Jak silently desperate, the elf could only helplessly stare back as he rubbed self-consciously at the hideous scar that ran the length of his neck.

'How the Hell are we going to survive this?' Harry's look screamed, he hadn't forgotten the promise he made.

Jak's weak smile silently replied. 'No idea.'

The morning came like a cold slap to the face, jarring Harry from another nightmare like a concerned friend only to beat him over the head with a mallet. It was freezing. He shuddered against it, rubbing at his arms for sparing warmth. He didn't have long to wallow in the cold as loud, vengeful siren sounded from somewhere in the compound.

Jak was up seconds later, groaning as he shifted. Despite having slept like a rock, he didn't look like he'd enjoyed a single moment of it.

'not the only one who has nightmares, then.' Harry turned his eyes on the still nameless girl and found her already on her knees exiting the tent. "It's the morning alarm," she told them crisply, "They'll want us lined at our tents." Without another word, she crawled through and became a shadow against the fabric.

Forcing himself forward, Harry couldn't stop the moan that escaped his lips. His ribs ached painfully as the only warning to a spasm. He wrapped his arms around his middle, securing them the best he could, and waited for the tremor to pass. They were coming more often now, since the last treatment. More often and more painful.

"Harry?" Jak's hand was on his shoulder, coaxing him around to face him.

"I'm… I'll be okay," He reassured throwing him a tired, pained smirk.

Jak didn't believe him for a second, but nodded nonetheless and waited for Harry to exit before doing so himself. The sun had yet to rise over the wall as their division collectively dragged themselves from their tents and stretched out stiff backs and sore shoulders. Harry didn't dare attempt in fear of ripping open his already fragile stitches

'At least,' he thought as they began to move towards the Mess Hall, 'the mat was comfier than the cot.'

Jak, falling in step beside him, yawned several times – scowling on the last. "Precursors, I'm exhausted."

Harry smiled endearingly, looking behind them in search of their brunette teammate. Instead of the young woman, Harry found two training officers staring him down. They kept themselves at an unassuming distance, but Harry knew when he was being watched. Years of Snape over his shoulder and Filch bearing down his neck, he could spot a tail a mile away.

He really wasn't surprised.

Harry knocked his elbow against Jak's side, the elf shooting him an unimpressed scowl as Harry hitched his thumb over his shoulder in a none-too-subtle gesture. Hell, if they weren't going to be careful and clandestine, Harry had no reason to be. Almost instantly Jak's eyes found them, frowning as one grinned and winked in his direction. He, resigned, turned back to Harry. "They're probably there to make sure we don't say the wrong thing."

"That's what I thought." Harry agreed grimly.

The Hall, tucked away at the far back corner, was so unassuming that when Harry looked on it, he didn't rightly believe it could fifty people let alone the number that carried on towards it. Everything here was polished, clinical, and precise… They followed the flow of people up the stairs and through the automatic doors. Once inside, Harry's skin crawled instantly with chilled air and the sharp scent of air-coolant. The Hall was impossibly larger than he imagined – the back nearly vanishing with its cafeteria styled food stalls. The tables, drilled into the floor, were the same steel as the benches that ran parallel to them. Not wanting to lose sight of Jak, Harry let himself be carried with the others towards the back.

The food they served consisted of semi-translucent oatmeal that sloshed into the bowl with a lack of flexibility than something editable should have. He and Jak weaved their way through the benches to find an empty spot near the back. Harry slid in beside a man with dark grey hair in a hushed conversation with a much younger, magenta eyed elf. Jak choose a spot across from him, and after a moment, the girl from their group picked the final spot beside Harry.

Considering the meal before him, Harry wasn't as perturbed by it as the rest of the first years. The 'Seconds' and low ranking officers spooned the mess into their mouths without a thought towards it; Harry himself could smell the protein powder it. He remembered his Aunt had tried to hide it in Dudley's meals when he was a small child. It made whatever it was in a rough, sand-paper like consistency.

"I doubt it's as bad as it smells," Jak offered hopefully, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"Must be bad," Harry mused, "If you're complaining."

Jak, like Harry, had been forced to adapt to a 'eat what you can get' way of life. While Harry had learned it from getting scraps, he always knew he would get enough. Jak had learned it not knowing when he next might be fed. Harry noticed it the first time in the Hospital. Jak sparing his meals through the course of the day despite the fact they were served three times. Horrendous food, but they were healthy meals and they gave their bodies what they needed.

Harry, being the Gryffindor he was, took the first bite among the first years at his table. They watched, horrified, as he did so. It was bitter, sweet, mushy, and crunchy all at the same time. It made his eyes water and he fought the urge to be sick. He placed his fist to his lips, desperate to keep it in, and coughed the entire thing down. The second year beside him pushed Harry's water towards him and he thankfully gorged himself on it. He didn't care if it wasn't graceful or dignified; he just the God-awful taste off his tongue.

"You," he choked, "Wanna bet?"

A silence lapsed over the table as Harry thanked the man who shrugged saying. "You get used to it. First day is always a bitch – in every way."

Harry gave a nod of comprehension, casting his eyes to Jak who was lost in thought and surprisingly at ease despite the closeness of the two men beside him. The elf wasn't good with small or tight spaces where Harry was more comfortable in them. "You good, mate?" He dared to question, Jak jolting back to reality.

"Yah… thanks," he muttered back, spooning the mush into his mouth.

Turning his attention away, Harry took a look at the young woman to his left. Discreetly as he could, he stole a few chance glances at her. She wasn't much older than Jak, maybe seventeen? But Harry had never been good at determining ages. Like so many other elves he'd seen here, her coloration wasn't a common one. Her hair was dark, but seemed to dye itself into a brighter shade of red-brown at the tips and her eyes were bright, clear amber.

"Are you related to someone in the Krimzon Guard?" Jak asked so suddenly it startled Harry.

She pursed her lips, brow furrowed, and replied. "No, why do you ask?"

He immediately looked away. "No reason…"

"I'm Harry and that is Jak," Harry cut in, "You are?"

"Ava," she greeted, placing her spoon in the half empty bowl. She leaned on crossed arms, scrutinizing Harry. "You have an odd accent," Ava didn't press much farther than that, her eyes flitting between them. "So, which of the Guards you training for?"

"Invisrin," Harry didn't miss a beat.

It took a second for Jak to respond, but he spoke slowly so his tone didn't betray him. "The Krimzon, back in Haven." Harry could hear and see the strain as he barely moved his lips as not to expose the clenched teeth behind.

Ava gave a smile too thin to be genuine. "I'm joining the K.G as well. I never saw you two at the exam, I would have noticed you – no offense." She said pointedly to Harry.

Jak was at a loss, opening and shutting his mouth just as quickly. Harry realized that Jak was a terrible liar. "We came earlier in the week. We already took the exam when we arrived," Harry lied smoothly, facts supplied by Vine.

"Really? I didn't know they did that." Ava muttered, skeptic as Jak nodded all too eagerly.

Harry narrowed his eyes on the blonde when the girl's attention was drawn away and Jak looked back exasperated.

A voice boomed over the speakers, so loud it cut clean across the din.

"Year One to Endurance Course B-7. I repeat, Year One to Endurance Course B-7."

Hell Week, as the officers had explained it, was the term coined for the PT portion of their fundamental training. It was a week of pure physical exertion, endurance and stress testing. It was where the weak and undetermined fell short and left. Harry, having trained for Quidditch since was eleven, believed he might have been able to complete the course had he not been shot a week ago… Then, maybe, he wouldn't be out of breath in the short jog to the first obstacle.

At least, that's what he told himself.

"Keep up," Ordered Ava sternly.

He grunted, breathless, and pushed himself to keep pace with the two elves. His stomach burned and his ribs jolted with each step he took. Jak slowed his own pace, falling in step with Harry as he wheezed through clenched teeth in absolute agony.

"Just keep running," Jak urged.

"I'm trying," Harry hissed miserably.

The first obstacle was a web of dangerously low barbwire. Ava, strides ahead of them, fell to her knees in the mud and scrambled through the web. Harry skid, unbalanced, but forced himself down into the web with Jak just behind. He came out with several lacerations and stinging, deep cuts to the back of his calves. Yet, he kept pushing himself. He had too.

"Faster," An officer shouted from the sidelines. A loud crack close to Harry's nose caused him to flinch and twist to the side. Blistering pain burst into his stomach, threatening to take him off his feet. Jak's hands on his shoulders kept him going, just barely. He pulled beside Ava at a large concrete wall with burning lungs. He immediately got to a knee and locked his fingers together in front of him. The wall was only eight or so feet tall, easy enough to clear with a boost.

He reminded a hesitant Jak, "I can't pull anything with my side,"

With a reluctant nod, he stepped onto Harry's hands. Harry grunted as he pushed with everything he had left, knee slipping in the mud beneath him. Jak wasn't heavy, but he had weight on Harry. The elf jumped higher than he expected, catching the ledge easily to pull himself up. Ava's turn next and she didn't hesitate. They reached down for him, but Harry was several inches short of even Jak's hand. He needed to get a running start, jump what he could, and pray that both of them could haul him up. He backed up several feet; Jak tensing as he realized what Harry intended and straddled the wall to ground himself. Harry used the wall as leverage, Ava catching his shirt as Harry latched to Jak's wrist and they hauled him up.

"Pick it up," Another demanded once they cleared it. Harry, passing too close to the officer, had the instinct to duck and allow the whip to crack at the air just above his back – the second caught Jak across the shoulder.

The boy stumbled, startled, and disbelieving before it turned into outright rage that twisted his face into an unnatural and ugly snarl. Harry, forcing his legs harder, wrapped his numbing fingers around Jak's bicep to pull him away.

"Better pick up the pace, Blondie! You'll be out by tomorrow if you keep behind like this!" Another crack of the whip and he nearly hit a young man just behind them who dove into the mud to avoid it.

"Focus!" Avar shouted ahead of them.

"Hate him later," Harry panted.

It was by the grace of Ava's pacing did they finish second to the rest of the division. Most had flung themselves at the course hard and tapered off on the last lap. It had kept them at the back originally, but at the end they were near the front only steps behind the first group.

Jak relished in the sour look on the Officer's face and threw him a triumphant grin through gasps of air.

Harry wasn't proud. He was trying not to be sick. He stood doubled over beside Ava, feeling as if Talis had beaten him all over again. He dragged his arm across his sweated forehead, forcing himself straight.

He could do this. He could do this.

"You did well," Ava complimented Jak, offering an exhausted smile of admiration.

"Thanks," he mumbled, turning his eyes to Harry. "Are you alright?"

"I'll live," he forced himself to say, ignoring the fire in his side.

The rest period came nearly five hours later and Harry's vision was starting to go. He swallowed thickly, trying not to think about how numb his legs were or how light headed he was. They stalked back to their tent, Ava swearing as she tried to message the kinks out of her arms. He chose that moment to sit on the grass outside, not wanting to carry the mud onto their mats. His hand fumbled to his stitches, hidden thickly beneath the mud, and tried to catch his breath.

"It only gets worse," Ava told them.

Jak groaned miserably, running his hands down his face. "That's something you should keep to yourself."

"Potter," Vine's called out from beyond the rows of tents. "Up front and Center!"

It was through extreme effort that Harry crawled back into his tent three hours later. He never thought he would be so excited to see a thin mattress in his life. He ignored the blurred shapes of his teammates, practically crawling over one of them to get to his own precious mat. That mat meant sleep, that mat meant an end to the throbbing his bones and blissful unconsciousness.

"Harry?"

His acknowledgement was muffled by the plastic pressed to his face.

"What the Hell is wrong with you-" Started Ava.

"Nothing," Jak cut her off, uncharacteristically sharp.

"That," The girl didn't back down, "Doesn't seem like nothing."

"Being human," Jak calmly supplied, "He has attacks – Eco makes him sick."

It wasn't a complete lie.

"Fine," Ava barked, "I'm going to the showers."

Harry dared to open his eyes as Ava left. Jak watched her go with annoyance and guilt clearly written on his face. He had been half right about Jak. It wasn't that he couldn't lie, he didn't enjoy lying – even to strangers and with their lives depending on it.

"Nice one," He rasped, pressing the side of his face to the cool mattress.

"What could I say?" He asked Harry through grit teeth, "Oh, it's just some experimentation to turn him into a super-solider. I'm getting pumped with Dark Eco back in Haven."

Harry held him with a dry look.

"Obviously not." Jak huffed.