DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling and Transformers to Hasbro, Takara, with movie rights to Michael Bay. Lost Souls makes no claims of ownership over either and solemnly asks not to be sued, because this is a nonprofit text with the sole purpose of amusing one's self without monetary gain and is in no way meant to undermine the original creators' authority.
More Than Meets The Eye by The Lost Souls of Avalon
A Harry Potter/Live-action Transformers crossover.
Ambassador Potter is used to weird things; he's a wizard, after all. But even he isn't prepared for the summons that takes him to a treaty conference between mankind and the Autobots, a potential partnership that may change the course of Earth's future, for better or for worse.
Rated: Teen (for now)
Warnings: Foul language, slash, femslash, sexual content, mech x human, holo x human, mech x mech, violence, AUish
Pairings: Harry x Optimus, Sam x Bee, Will x Ironhide, Mikaela x Maggie (maybe a little Mikaela x Barricade x Maggie), Ron x Hermione, Luna x Neville, Draco x Ginny
Author's note: Takes place after Transformers live-action movie and before Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. Is not HP Epilogue-compliant. Note on title: Yeah, I know. It's oh so original. And finally: shout out to the super cool Dresden Files book series. I borrowed Dresden because he's too awesome to leave out. Unfortunately, he belongs to the equally super cool Jim Butcher. Oh snap!
Author's note 2: Since everyone's wondering, I've decided to answer the question of what vampires have to do with the Autobots. Well, truthfully, absolutely nothing. It was something to keep Harry tied to the magical world even when he's across the seas and making treaties with giant alien robots.
IMPORTANT: Three vampire terms you need to be aware of (and that I pulled out of my ass).
A COVEN is a close-knit family unit, typically composed of a sire and their first-generation Children; the coven is named after its sire and may be different from the clan name. A CLAN is a group of covens, often extensive, where the clan head is the one who sired the coven heads. The VAMPIRE COURTS are made up of the clan heads in the European continent and are responsible for governing.
Bloody Mary was a high-end nightclub that catered mostly to vampires and the witches and wizards who were no longer prejudiced towards them. It sat on the edge of Muggle London, straddling both worlds without allowing much crossover. Muggles donated blood in a blood drive held weekly to gain a monthly pass to the ground level, while the witches and wizards who made more direct donations crowded the upper levels with the undead patrons, the Muggle-repelling charms keeping any uninvited guests from discovering the club's magical counterpart.
Harry, like all the other magical or vampire patrons, used the back entrance for access. A bouncer dressed like a security guard was quick to check his wrists for the telltale tattoo that identified him as not only a regular guest, but a preferred donor to the club's manager and clan head, Taliesin Delacroix himself. The man's eyes widened a bit at that realization and he bowed, not quite at the waist, in respect. The badge on his chest that declared him both Auror and Ambassador was secondary in significance.
The doormat just inside a dimmed and sparse foyer was a good three to four meters across and two in depth. When both his feet were planted firmly, a soft glow enveloped the mat, twining around his ankles, and he was abruptly in another foyer, this one tastefully decorated and plenty illuminated. Ahead of him was a wide doorway that led to the hub of the club's activity, but to either side, extending in lavish corridors, were lines of private rooms. The architecture was soundproofed both by technology and magic, and a ward prevented the club's pulsing heartbeat from leaking into the foyer and rooms beyond, so it was peacefully quiet.
The corridors wrapped around the vast clubbing room and opposite of the foyer would be the executive suites, where Harry's target was located. On his way, he admired the trim and décor, which seemed to change each time he visited Bloody Mary. Oil lamps mounted on the walls and floral arrangements and ornate trim was something to be expected in perhaps a high-end hotel; one would be hard pressed to believe many indulged in sexual behaviors and vampire tendencies behind these doors. In fact, Taliesin would probably be in the middle of a session––this was approximately one of the times he preferred to feed. Hopefully he wouldn't be too occupied.
The door to the executive suites wasn't different from any of the others, except for a plaque that, instead of having a number, declared it off limits to unauthorized personnel. Another difference was the inconspicuous panel and its hand-shaped depression beside the frame. Knowing the drill, Harry obligingly put his hand in the indicated area, not reacting one bit when something sharp pierced his palm and took a sample of his blood while his prints were scanned, both security measures confirming his identity; the peephole-disguised retina scanner extended shortly after, to ensure it wasn't someone with his severed hand seeking entrance (hey, it had happened before). He heard the faint whir of locks disengaging, but the door remained closed. He'd have to wait for someone on the inside to open it for him (despite its appearance, it was much heavier than it looked).
Taliesin was, after all, a vampire of prestige and had much sway within the Courts; his safety, both at work and home, was not taken lightly. The doormat he'd trod upon earlier was also a security measure, as well, by searching him magically for any potential weapons, recording the magical signature of his wand and matching it to his own core signature, and tagging him with a temporary locator beacon, all magical of course, in case he began to cause trouble and they needed to get him out fast––or if an accident occurred that required medical assistance, on the other hand. Had his wand's signature been inconsistent with his core's (the magical signature of a wand, especially one in use for some time, imitated the signature of its user's core) or had he been carrying any weapons, the device would instantaneously cage him and alert security. Fortunately, neither had happened and he was about as far down the security threat queue as one could get.
About ten seconds passed before the door opened, relatively slow for a vampire which probably meant that Tal had taken the time to escort whoever he was entertaining (or whoever was entertaining him) from the sitting room to one of the extravagant, lush bedrooms the executive suites had (he knew this from experience, but that's a story for another day). Revealed in the doorway was a handsome man, just over six feet in height, that had no reason to look surprised, because the security system would have automatically announced him, but did anyways.
Light auburn hair, more brown than orange, short and stylishly messy, topped a strongly defined face that possessed a few wrinkles indicative of just how old he really was, but also of how often he smiled and laughed and worried. The lines failed to detract from his appearance, merely making him appear experienced in the ways of life instead of just getting on up there in years. He wore a crisp button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled neatly up to his elbows and casual coal slacks, comfy in a pair of loafers. There was no real indication that he was anything but human, except for his maroon eyes.
"Harry!" the deep and accented voice rang musically. "What a pleasant surprise!" Almost too quick for human eyes to catch, Taliesin clutched him around the waist and spun him in a circle before bringing him inside, a fanged smile on his enticing visage. Harry had no chance to protest as he was placed back on his feet with a loud, smacking kiss bestowed upon his mouth, leaving behind a pleasurable tingle. Tal smirked at the wizard's dazed expression and raised Harry's left hand to press his lips to the tattoo in a more traditional greeting. "And what brings you to my humble residence of business?" His eyes narrowed in thought. "I haven't missed an appointment, have I?"
Harry tried to glare at the vampire's abruptness, but he was too busy regaining his equilibrium after being passionately assaulted, so to say. It didn't matter how much exposure you had, the effects of a vampire's allure never lessened and one could never get used to it. Harry was only partially immune, probably for the same reasons he could resist the Imperius Curse and dancing veela, and still needed a moment to recover, which Tal graciously allowed him without having to step out of his personal space. This close Harry could see the faint flush in his cheeks, a good indication he had fed within the last hour. "Was that really necessary?" he asked once he felt as if he could control his voice. He tried to sound reprimanding, but at the amused glint in Tal's eyes, he knew he failed.
"But Harry, how else am I to express just how delighted I am that you visited?" Pale pink lips pouted, but only got a roll of the eyes in response.
"Words, perhaps?" Harry offered, trying to look and sound more agitated than he really was. It was hard to be upset at Taliesin for more than a few minutes at most. He found himself mirroring Tal's earlier grin, unable to dredge up some resentment or negative emotions of any kind. "Sorry, but I'm not here for pleasure. Something's come up."
Taliesin went from playboy to clan leader so fast a mortal would get whiplash. His perfect mouth turned down at the corners as he escorted Harry to the lounge to be seated before seating himself. But his eyes maintained their warmth with the addition of understanding and his lips quirked up slightly when he saw the badge on his robes. "I see your superiors finally realized their folly and gave you dual authority."
"Only temporarily, I'm afraid. They don't like their underlings having more political power than they do." He shrugged before retrieving a folder from a pocket inside his robes. It contained photos of the crime scenes that Robards had authorized him to share. He didn't say anything and instead handed folder to the vampire, letting him draw his on conclusions. He watched as Taliesin opened it and drew in an unnecessary breath, maroon eyes roving fervently over the details as he absorbed it all.
After five of so minutes, Taliesin closed the folder and returned it to Harry. His face was pinched with the comprehension of just how damaging this could be to the Accords. "Well… it isn't a set up… the wounds are certainly authentic. Any suspects?"
"Not yet. I was wondering if you knew of any rogue covens, ones that perhaps weren't happy with the Accords?" There were admittedly a few covens that separated from their clan for some reason or another, but Harry couldn't comprehend why. Being in a clan provided protection from rivaling ones and gave them a voice in the governing process. Even rarer were the rogue vampires that refused involvement in even a coven. There were also vampires who were expelled from their covens for unbecoming behavior and branded as exiles. It wasn't unheard of for exiled vampires to make alliances with each other and form gangs, a rather derogatory term for a coven with unrelated members.
Taliesin shook his head mutely before getting up and pilfering the mini bar for some wine, an expensive brand from what Harry could tell. Harry grimaced in sympathy and let the vampire stew for a bit. He wasn't in any particular hurry to leave.
Harry James Potter. A highly unassuming name for someone declared to be a––what did the humans call it––wizard. It had been Optimus' understanding that many humans in this day and age believed magic a force of fiction. There wasn't science to prove its existence. And wouldn't there have been more information on file if a magical community truly existed? Here even the U.S. military seemed to endorse its authenticity. It hadn't been so much an issue that they were bringing in a civilian to help mediate, but that this civilian evidently possessed supernatural powers that made him hesitate in the beginning.
Will Lennox did his best to explain, though his knowledge of the subject was a level above the Prime's. It had been Ratchet who pointed out that this magic, instead of being a mythical phenomenon, was in fact an elusive genetic mutation of sorts that could be scientifically explained; human technology was just too primitive to detect it. But he'd seen the gleam in the medic's optics. His intrigue had been piqued; Optimus could see the desire to get the proclaimed wizard under his scanners.
A data pad had been provided with all the files they had on Potter, but it only extended back seven years or so and was unusually sparse. A search of databases in the States and abroad revealed a lack of birth certificate and medical records for his early years. He'd been enrolled in a primary school until he was eleven, upon which he was supposed to attend St. Brutus, a school for incurably criminal boys, but the school itself had now records of him attending a single day. Public records were more or less dead ends and he'd been tempted to contact Will again and inquire whether wizards received a special education apart from the general population, but the newly promoted major was busy making meeting arrangements for the treaty talks.
Well, if Harry Potter accepted the job, the Autobots were to meet him before the talks officially began. In the meantime, it couldn't hurt to check up on Sam and see if Bumblebee had anything to report.
Next on More Than Meets The Eye
Okay, so I lied about the chapter timeline. Next chapter we'll have Sam's epic break up with Mikaela, Harry accepting the job, and the plane ride.