Healing Hearts

Chapter 8

Harry abruptly stopped walking to bend over, clutching at his chest in agony. He had been about to apparate to his hotel when his magic flared up. It bucked against the barrier he had around his core, fighting to be released. The lady who had been escorting him was panicking, trying to grab Harry's attention.
Harry grit his teeth and, smiling at the screaming woman, let his fiery magic wash through him, unable to control the white-hot flames before he disappeared from the apparation room with an inaudible 'pop'.
"Mr. Potter?!"

Appearing in the middle of a destroyed street, Harry gasped in pain and fell to the ground. The wizard laid on the gritty blacktop of the street for a few moments, before his magic reasserted its need to move. Pushed by his 'spidey sense', Harry reluctantly forced himself up and staggered forwards to a place where major amounts of pain emanated like radioactive decay.
Approaching a large hunk of metal, Harry grimaced as the pain grew worse. The healer leaned against one of the standing pieces of metal for a second, trying to catch his breath, before hoisting himself up to crawl over other pieces of metal, failing to see the small sparks of blue magic shooting into the odd scraps.
Harry stopping crawling near the other end of the mass of metal when he nearly fell into a gaping hole. Sticking his head through it, Harry wondered if a human had been injured inside, though he couldn't see anyone. The only thing he could see was a small, glowing piece of blue glass laying at the bottom of the pit.
Seeing his hands begin to glow brightly, Harry idly wondered who he would heal. Watching as his healing magic unfurled, spreading throughout the pit and covering every jagged edge and crevice, Harry waited for something to happen, as his magic seemed to refuse to touch the glowing, blue shard of glass.
This observation quickly became untrue; however, when Harry's magic suddenly engulfed the glowing shard until it could no longer be seen. Gritting his teeth in pain, Harry nearly shouted at the surprise fire that rushed through his veins.
As the new energy from the shard mixed with his magic, Harry was lifted off of the ground, a strong elemental wind picking him up and blowing his hair wild. Screwing his face up to the sky, pure yellow eyes burned with power as they stared off into space.
And just as suddenly as Harry had been picked up, he was dropped. Green eyes narrowed as hands began to glow a brighter blue and Harry's magic expanded from just the pit to the whole top section of the metal mass he was on.
Harry stood, frozen, for what felt like hours as he felt his magic draining out of him. The pit he had been standing before slowly began to close up as a giant ball of his energy rested near the bottom. The metal surrounding the magic ball, which Harry would have to assume was now the metal's magical core as odd as it was to contemplate, moved like liquid, flowing to cover the remaining holes and scars until most of the metal was smooth and flawless. Harry collapsed to his knees for a second time as he watched his magic move further away from him and the new core. It surrounded the end of the metal mass, making all of its sharp points glow ominously in a blue light.
As Harry felt the drain on his magic begin to weaken, he almost cried in relief. He hadn't had a magical exhaustion as strong as this one since he had decided to layer an ancient growth charm from the Himalayas. Who knew making your body five times it's normal size stretched out your magical core too quickly for it to reach equilibrium without mass consequences? Harry hadn't, and now he wished he hadn't tried to heal a gigantic hunk of metal either.
The wizard's sight slowly began to dim as the ground shook. He felt himself fall and smack his head, his vision exploding with stars in the darkness. Trying to blink them away, Harry only caught a glimpse of giant, glowing eyes before he could see no more.

At first, it knew nothing. It was only an it because it could perceive itself. Everything was as it was, nothing changing and ever the same. Then, it heard. An indistinct creaking noise disrupted the quiet that had always lingered. With this noise, came notions. The passing of time became apparent and the noises were understood. The creak belonged to metal, overstressed and about to collapse.
As it listened to the metal finally crack and the following avalanche of debris, it began to feel. It could feel it's adult armor covering it's internal wiring and all it's appendages, but it's chassis was... off. There was a small weight just below the chassis, as well as an odd feeling in it's armour. Further moving it's body in small twitches, it realized that it was a mech, rather than just an 'it'.
He sighed in his processor, realizing that the thought of being a femme was disturbing. To be a mech was a relief as femmes were dirty, deceitful, and utterly disgusting in their build. The mech's processor stalled for a moment, searching for the place that opinion came from.
As he reached, more data slowly filtered into the mech's processor, re-downloading lost information, opinions, and experiences. Private channels were reestablished and messages reopened. So many questions began to fill the mech- no, Megatronus' processor, as some the data coming back didn't fit with the others. Why did he have a whole legion of Cybertronians following him when he wasn't a Prime? Why did he have such a deep-rooted hatred for a Prime? Especially one that had been like a brother to him when his carrier had been offlined? And, better yet, when did he support the killing of his fellow Cybertronians?!
As Megatronus' optics finally started to online, the mech pushed his panic to the back of his processor. Now was not the time to be questioning his past actions. He didn't know where he was or why, and wasn't sure if he could trust the information that was being supplied to him. Being brought back to life after taking the Allspark to his chassis wasn't a very plausible explanation, and so Megatronus opened his optics.
Staring into a blue sky the likes of which he couldn't remember properly enjoying, Megatronus knew at least half of the information in his databanks was correct, as Cybertron had never had clouds, nor a single star to light the sky.
Sitting up slowly to look at his surroundings even with his body being stiff- mostly from lack of energon flow, Megatronus suspected- the small weight he had forgotten was on his chassis tumbled off, and the mech barely caught it in his palm before whatever it was hit the ground.
Turning his optics down, Megatronus was surprised to connect them with emerald green. Staring at the small being in the palm of his servo, Megatronus realized it was a male human that he- FLESHIE!- ...held. Ignoring the strange- and rather alarming- impulse to squish the fleshling to death, Megatronus analyzed the small, organic being, only to see he had fallen into recharge within the few moments he had been distracted. What an odd fleshling. From his databanks, humans usually were frightened of his race, going so far as to scream, run away, or attempt to harm them. The only humans he knew not to do such things were Sam Witwicky and Mikaela Banes. The Witwicky boy had been a special human, a descendant of the man who had found him when he crashed here. Was this human another special one? Megatronus scrunched up his faceplate in thought as he scrutinized the human much more closely. There was definitely an odd energy field emitting from his body. Perhaps that was what made him special. Megatronus decided he would keep this fleshling, just to see. It wasn't as if any other fleshing would mind either, as other information from Megatronus' processor stated humans moved in groups, called 'families', and were rarely too far apart from one another. Looking around, Megatronus could see no other humans. Though the sight of the rubble and dried energon surrounding him reminded the mech of the possible reason he was there in the first place.
Had he really been offlined?