The Autobots don't do toasters, but if they did, they'd be the best toasters in the universe.
xSorry everyone. It just sprung to mind… If you type in Carlsberg on YouTube, you might get the joke

DISCLAIMER: "Write for fun, not for profit!" say many fanfiction authors.


"What has that got to do with anything?" Harry asked. The truth was, he had no idea about the speed of anything other than a broomstick, and he doubted that information like that was what Wheeljack wanted.

Carefully, Wheeljack lowered his hand to the ground and Harry took that as his cue to step off it.

"When we arrive at a new planet," Wheeljack explained, "depending on the type of inhabitants, we Autobots may have to hide from sight. If the species is advanced enough, we can blend in by scanning their technology and disguising ourselves as a piece of machinery or a particular vehicle."

Harry frowned as he considered this. "So, you could become a car, or a toaster, or something?" He decided not to worry about the implication that Wheeljack had visited possibly hundreds of other planets with life forms on them for now.

The Autobot folded his arms across his chest. "I assure you, I did not travel millions of miles through space to become a device which heats bread, but yes, that is correct. Now, a vehicle form would be best I think. Its function as a method of transportation would be useful."

In the Wizarding World, a car would only slow a wizard down… Harry thought privately, but decided to keep that to himself. Inwardly cursed himself for being so dependent on those methods, and wondered why over the last six months he hadn't bothered to get a driver's licence. Or a car for that matter. "Well, there's a motorbike in the garage. I'm not qualified, but I can drive it."

"A motorbike?" Wheeljack wondered aloud, scanning his downloaded files quickly. "…I suppose it'll do for now."

"I'll bring it out the garage," Harry told him. "Erm, just wait here." Try not to blow yourself up while I'm gone…

He was back within a few minutes, and he wheeled Sirius' old motorbike in front of the Autobot.

Wheeljack watched his progress curiously. "The motorbike is not affected by your defence system," he noted, blue optics narrowing. "Why is this?"

"I took it down," Harry told him. "It looked like it was killing you."

Wheeljack stared at him for a long moment in silence. "I am grateful for that," he said at last. One hand came up to touch his chest plate and for a moment Harry wondered if he ought to be thinking up an excuse to explain how it had been fixed. But then the robot dropped his hand and asked instead: "You still haven't told me what technology your defence system is made from though. It's very advanced, though I don't understand why you would require a shield against electrical products. Scans tell me your house is full of them."

"Oh," Harry said, frowning, "that's not what it's for. The wards are supposed to protect me from anyone who might want to, err, cause bodily harm." By preventing unauthorised magic users from casting spells, Harry added mentally, but hesitated from saying it out loud.

Then again, would it really matter if he told an alien that he was a wizard? It was possible that Wheeljack wouldn't think anything of it- after all, how would he know there was anything different about being one? He'd never been to earth before after all.

"But I am not a human, and I had no intent to cause you any harm. Indeed, I was not even aware of your presence," Wheeljack pointed out in response to Harry's reply.

It figured that a robot would be so smart. Wheeljack reminded him far too much of Hermione's book smarts, only with a dash of that insane genius he had come to associate with the Weasley twins before the war.

"What it does to electrical goods is a side-effect," Harry explained. "That's why you were hurt." I think.

"Do all humans have such wards?" Wheeljack asked, testing out the new word.

"Erm…" Harry trailed off, uncertain how to respond. "Not quite like mine I guess. One of my friends made them especially for me to use."

"I see," Wheeljack said, though Harry could tell that he still had more questions to ask. "And that is the motorbike?" he asked, surprising the teen with the sudden topic change.

"Oh, yeah," Harry said. "It used to belong to my godfather."

"It doesn't look very fast," Wheeljack lamented.

But it can fly. "Well, it should get you to America without looking too suspicious. And it's faster than it looks."

"I'll take your word for it," Wheeljack said, and a flash of blue raced along the bike, from the back tyre to the front. "Now stand back a little. Let's see what this feels like on!"

All at once the Autobots appearance exploded outwards, changing into thousands of shifting parts. Harry stared in disbelief as the robot folded in on himself, forming new coloured panels that covered his body. He shrunk steadily downwards, until he began to form the shape of the motorbike. The process was amazing to 

watch, something that definitely rivalled anything Wizardry might have been able to pull off, and would probably blow Professor McGonagall's socks off if she ever saw it.

After a few seconds more, there were two motorbikes sat side by side in his garden.

"It's a bit small," Wheeljack commented.

CHAPTER THREE:
Problems

"Who's that mommy? Is he going to buy that pretty owl?"

Harry jumped at the voice from behind him. He tore his gaze from the snowy white owl sat in the cage to look at a young woman and a small child, both of them with light blond hair.

The small girl tugged at her mother's sleeve. "But I wanted it," she stage-whispered.

Harry laughed a little at the mortified expression on the woman's face. "It's alright," he said, "I was only looking. I don't think I'll get another owl this colour."

"You mean it? Then I can have it after all?"

Harry tipped his head to give the five year old a reassuring grin, his black hair shifting across his forehead. "Of course you can. There are lots of other owls here that I could get."

"So can I, mommy?" the girl questioned, glancing up to her mother again. "Mommy?" she asked, confused by the odd expression that had suddenly crept over the woman's face.

Harry noticed it as well and the smile fell from his lips.

She looked terrified, her eyes wide where they fell on his forehead.

"Mommy? The owl?"

"No honey. Not today," the woman said quickly, shushing her daughter's protests. "Come along, it's time to go." Without hesitating, she picked up her daughter and ducked her head once in Harry's direction as an apology. "Excuse us, Mr Potter."

Then she was gone, her steps quick and hurried, so eager was she to get away from the Saviour of the Wizarding World.

Harry woke up suddenly, the memory fresh in his mind from his dreams. For a long moment he lay there, staring at the white ceiling above his head, his stomach churning as he replayed the expression on the woman's face.

I know you're a murderer, it had seemed to say. Surely, someone so powerful…

With a frustrated sigh, Harry forced himself to think of something else.

That hadn't been the only unusual dream he had had the night before. At some point, he had also imagined that a giant alien had crashed into his garden and told him he had to take it to America. At least, he supposed, he was finally having average, weird dreams, just like everyone else.

This isn't my bedroom ceiling, he thought suddenly.

So… Why was sleeping on his couch, and why was there a giant, blue eye looking in at him through his living room window?

With a start, Harry jerked upright and looked again at the blue eye, which blinked at him.

"Took you long enough," a loud voice rumbled. "Do all humans take so long to recharge?"

It wasn't a dream. There really are giant, alien robots, and one of them did fill in the pond I spent over six hours digging out, Harry thought to himself. How the hell do I get myself into messes like this?

- - -

Tranquillity, United States

If someone had told Samuel Witwicky a month ago that he would have a hand in saving the world, he probably would have had one of a dozen sarcastic replies ready to dissuade them from the idea. That was, of course, if his unassuming appearance hadn't been their first clue.

Despite this, through a series of coincidences which had probably been building up since the Witwicky family first decided their family motto would be "No sacrifice; no victory", Sam had become a key player in a civil war between the Autobots and the Decepticons which had spanned millions of years.

Luckily for him (and also Earth), the Autobots had been the victors of the last battle between the two sides, and now all Sam had to do was lie back and try and catch a few hours sleep in his own bed. However, over the last month, this had proved to be easier said than done.

Rolling over, he glanced at the alarm clock, which stated in bright green letters that it was four thirty in the morning. Moaning in annoyance, he buried his face in his pillow. It had been like this ever since that day.

His girlfriend Mikaela had also complained of sleepless nights, though hers had been caused by nightmares about some of the things she had seen. Those were fading now, and no doubt she was fast asleep right at this very moment.

Sam wished he could say the same thing.

A sudden twinge in his head made him frown, and he realised he'd done it once again.

The 'it' in question was something that had been bothering him for the past couple of weeks. At first he had been able to ignore it, but the effects had been getting worse recently, causing moments of embarrassment when people called him out on his odd behaviour, or accused him of becoming as pill-obsessed as Mojo when he could be seen swallowing back an aspirin every few hours.

It was infuriating, the way his mind seemed to focus on the most inane things at odd times throughout the day. One moment he would be talking to Mikaela and the next he would see something over her shoulder- it could be anything, even his neighbour's watering can or something equally as pointless- and his mind would spin off out of his control, remembering every time it had seen that thing or person before, with a crystal clear clarity that made Sam think the memory was actually happening that very moment.

And, inevitably, these odd occurrences were followed by headaches, a little like the one he was getting just now.

"No, no, no," he cried, scrunching his hair with his hands in frustration.

"Sam?" an inquisitive voice asked.

Surprised, Sam sat up quickly in bed and glanced towards his bedroom window where the face of a familiar mechanoid was staring in at him.

"Bumblebee," he acknowledged in surprise. Then, his brain snapped into overdrive. "Oh god, Mom's flowers!" Quicker than he had ran from Megatron, Sam dashed across to the window. Bumblebee stepped back obediently to show him the patch of healthy flowers that had all been recently replaced.

"Flowers in the window- Don't worry be happy!" Bumblebee's speakers sang in quick succession. He followed this with a thumbs up gesture that still had Sam uncertain as to where he had picked it up from.

"Hilarious," Sam grumbled, "I've got the McFerrin of the Autobot world imitating my mum when she thinks I might have got a date." Bumblebee warbled in reply good-naturedly, not the least bit put off by the insult. "What are you doing anyway? I'm sensing a definite lack of disguise here."

Bumblebee seemed to consider for a moment, before he decided to use his normal voice rather than the radio. "I have received a transmission from Optimus. A new Autobot has landed on Earth."

"Really? Already?" Sam said in surprise. Space was a big place after all; he hadn't been expecting any Autobots (or Decepticons for that matter) to show up for quite some time yet. Actually, now he thought about it-

And just like that, he lost control of his mind. Quite suddenly it took off on its own route through his memories. All of a sudden he was back in his science room at school, and Mr Reed was drawing dots meant to be planets on the black board and explaining the theory of light moving through space in his sleep-inducing, dulcet tones- His dad was setting up a telescope in the garden and explaining that, not so long ago, his great-grandfather would have relied as much on the stars for guidance as he did normal maps and charts. He had scoffed, parroting back the fact that stars didn't do any good- half of them didn't exist anymore, we just didn't know it yet because the light had such a long way to travel-

"Sam, are you well?"

The question snapped him back to the real world much too quickly. Only his hand gripping onto the window sill so hard the knuckles went white stopped him from collapsing backwards.

"Bee…" Sam said, glancing at his guardian, whose optics had narrowed on him worriedly. He straightened immediately and shook his head, ignoring how it pounded even more at the action. "Yeah, yeah, sure. Just, it's a little early, or late… I haven't fully woken up yet. Erm, what were we talking about again?"

Bumblebee looked unconvinced by his words, but fortunately didn't call him out on them. After all, how could he know Sam hadn't been asleep at all?

"Military satellites have already worked out the Autobot's landing position and we're going to pick him up," the yellow mech explained slowly, his voice still catching every now and then.

"Really?" Sam asked, genuinely pleased through the haze that still fogged his mind. "Hey, that's great! Give me a minute and I'll be right downstairs."

Bumblebee nodded, and there was the sound of compacting metal as he folded himself back down into his vehicle mode. Sam was left standing in his room, rubbing his head tiredly. The usual headache was back with a vengeance, and it felt as if it had brought along fifty of its friends as well for a big ol' party in his cranium.

"Aspirin," Sam muttered to himself, rummaging around the room for it desperately.

-

As they drove along the highway leading away from Tranquillity, Sam and Bumblebee were joined by three other vehicles- a Peterbilt truck with a flame design, a GMC Topkick and a search and rescue Hummer. It was lucky it was still the early hours of the morning, or else Sam thought it might have looked a little strange to see the four very different vehicles travelling in a convoy together.

As the Topkick drew alongside to Sam and Bumblebee, the teen waved to Will, who cheerfully returned the gesture. That man is a machine, Sam thought moodily. How can he be so happy at this time?

On the other side of him, Mikaela was riding in Ratchet, who must have picked her up on the way round. She smiled warmly at him through the window, and Sam felt himself return it, honestly glad to see his girlfriend.

His girlfriend Mikaela Banes. At one time, she would have been the last person he would have thought would have glanced at him twice, yet here they were, a month after the excitement had worn off, and still dating. Totally not a heat of the moment thing, he comforted himself.

Turning his attention forward again, Sam asked Bumblebee, "Where did this Autobot land again?"

"His name is Prowl," Bumblebee told him. "He landed just outside Mission City. Optimus instructed him to lay low and wait for our arrival."

"Mission City, huh?" Sam said wryly. He quickly calculated the distance in his mind. "Do you mind if I try and get some sleep before we get there?"

"Not at all Sam."

"Thanks Bee," Sam said, snuggling down into the leather seat as best he could. As if on cue it tipped back a little, which made Sam smile. Now, if only he could actually manage to fall asleep-

-

\\How is the boy?/ Optimus asked Bumblebee through one of the many Autobot channels.

\\He is recharging/ Bumblebee replied, running a quick scan over the teenager. \\His vital signs appear to be normal./

\\I think it's best you leave that to me/ Ratchet inserted grumpily. \\I want to run a full body scan as soon as I can. Have you noticed any other problems recently aside from his sleeping patterns?/

Bumblebee took the impatient tone in his stride, knowing Ratchet was annoyed with not being informed sooner about Sam's odd behaviour. He always got that way when he was left in the dark about something that was his job to put right. The only thing he hated worse was being asked to use all his skills as a famous medic to fix a scratched paint job.

\\Mikaela noticed that he seemed a little distracted and unable to focus very well/ Bumblebee replied. \\He has also been taking a large number of human medicine called aspirin. They are normally used to treat pains in the body./

\\Hmph/ Ratchet muttered, more to himself, \\that isn't enough to base a diagnosis on, though it does concern me somewhat./\

\\Yet another problem we have to deal with/ Ironhide added. \\Between Sam and Wheeljack, I think you'll have your processors overloaded, Ratchet./

\\That fool/ Ratchet cursed over the link. \\Why did he have to pick England of all the places to land?/

\Indeed/ Optimus reported gravely. \\The President is concerned about what he might have to say to the Prime Minister about this. He and Keller had been hoping to not reveal our presence here for some time yet, but Wheeljack is not the… most subtle of Autobots./

\\What does that mean?/ Bumblebee asked.

\\It means the President doesn't know how to get anyone over there to find him. Even with satellite positioning, it would take quite a few men to track his location- especially once he begins to move/ Ironhide informed the younger Autobot. \\All this politics rubbish is a pain in the aft./

\\We must have faith in our human allies. I am sure they will pull through for us/ Optimus said, his tone offering a soft rebuke of Ironhide's attitude.

\\And what about Wheeljack?/ Ratchet demanded. \\The only faith I have in him is that they next time I see him it will be surrounded by all the things he's blown to smithereens./


I apologise for the lack of proper punctuation in the section just above, but kept cuttying it out and, in the end, I just thought, well, what the hell? It's staying that way.
Thanks to all my reviewers, it's good to know you like the revamped version.