Harry lay on the cold, hard floor of the ruined kitchen, his body shaking as he struggled to catch his breath. The air was thick with the smell of dust and debris, and his vision swam in and out of focus. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, every beat a reminder of how close he had come to death.
The front of the house was gone. The walls had crumbled, the door blown apart. Outside, under the glow of the moon, stood the enormous figure that had saved him—too big to fit inside, too massive to be real.
But it was.
The creature, the machine that had once been a car, now stood towering over the remnants of Privet Drive. It was impossibly tall, its hulking metal frame dwarfing the house that had once confined Harry in a cupboard under the stairs. Its green optics glowed in the dark, casting an eerie light over the wreckage. Its broad shoulders scraped against the ceiling as it tried to hunch down, but even then, it was far too large to fully approach him.
Harry's head spun as he tried to make sense of it all. His breath came in ragged gasps, his throat raw from the near-death encounter with Vernon. But none of that seemed to matter now. All he could do was stare at the towering figure—this living machine—that was now watching him with glowing green eyes.
"You... saved me," Harry rasped, his voice barely above a whisper, throat still aching from Vernon's hands.
The giant machine slowly crouched down as best it could, its weight causing the ground beneath it to tremble. Its gaze remained fixed on Harry, though the distance between them was enough that even crouched, its head still loomed far above the ruined walls.
"I... don't understand," Harry stammered, his voice weak, shaking. "What... are you?"
The machine's green optics flickered, dimming slightly as though it, too, were struggling to find an answer. "I... do not know," it rumbled, its voice deep and resonant, shaking the air around Harry. "I was nothing. Then... your power... gave me life."
"My... power?" Harry repeated, confusion mixing with exhaustion. He struggled to sit up, his body weak and trembling from both fear and the aftershock of whatever had just happened.
The machine, still crouched awkwardly outside, nodded slowly. "Yes. Your power reached out to me. I felt it. And... now I am."
Harry's mind raced, trying to piece it together. His power—wild, untamed, and always unpredictable—had done things before. It had saved him from danger countless times. But this was different. His power hadn't just reacted; it had created. This enormous machine, this Transformer, was alive because of him.
But before Harry could fully comprehend the enormity of it, a sharp, metallic sound came from behind him, snapping him out of his daze. Harry turned his head toward the noise, his body still sluggish from the ordeal. Through the haze of dust and debris, he spotted something moving among the remnants of the kitchen counter.
The medkit.
Harry's eyes widened as he saw the small metal box—the Dursleys' first aid kit—twitching, its hinges snapping and shifting. Just like the car had done. It clanked against the ground, unfolding and reshaping itself with a series of clicks and mechanical whirs. The transformation was quick but unmistakable.
The medkit was turning into something else.
Within seconds, the box had fully transformed, standing on thin, spindly legs. It was small, barely the size of Harry's arm, but it was alive. The small bot, its green optics glowing just as brightly as the larger machine's, blinked at Harry. It let out a series of beeps and chirps, almost as if it were testing its voice for the first time.
Harry's breath caught in his throat. First the car, now the medkit.
"What... what is happening?" he whispered, staring at the smaller bot in disbelief.
The larger machine—his first creation—watched the smaller one curiously, its optics flickering as if it, too, was unsure of what to make of this new life. "It seems... your power is more than just mine," the larger one said, its deep voice thoughtful. "You gave life to... this one as well."
Harry's heart raced as he stared at the small bot. Its frame was made of sleek metal, though much simpler in design compared to the towering giant outside. The little bot chirped again, hopping in place on its thin legs, almost playful in its movements.
Harry knelt down, still feeling a little shaky. He extended his hand toward the small bot, half-expecting it to shy away, but instead, it leaned forward eagerly, placing its small, cool metal hand in his. The touch was warm, almost comforting, and the connection between them felt... familiar.
Harry glanced up at the larger machine. "You... you both came from me," he muttered. "I don't understand how."
The larger machine tilted its head slightly, its green optics narrowing. "I do not understand either. I only know that your power created us. Without you, we would not exist."
The weight of those words pressed down on Harry. This wasn't just his magic acting out in some random way. His power had created life—living, sentient beings who now stood before him. First, the car that had transformed into this towering figure of metal and strength, and now the medkit, which had reshaped itself into a small, curious bot.
Harry looked down at the small bot again, which blinked its glowing green eyes up at him and let out another soft chirp. He could feel its eagerness, its innocence. It was like a newborn, discovering the world for the first time.
"You need a name," Harry said softly, feeling a strange sense of responsibility settle over him. "Both of you do."
The large machine shifted, its massive frame blocking out the night sky. "A... name?" it repeated, as though trying to grasp the concept.
"Yeah," Harry said, standing up slowly. "I can't just call you 'big robot' and 'small bot,' can I?"
The smaller bot hopped excitedly at his feet, its optics flashing brighter in response. Harry smiled despite himself. There was something oddly comforting about the little one's energy. It was a spark of life in the chaos of destruction.
"You," Harry said, looking up at the giant machine that had saved him, "should be called... Tempest. You came out of nowhere like a storm when I needed you most."
The machine's green optics glowed brighter for a moment, considering the name. "Tempest," it repeated, its deep voice rumbling. "Yes. I am... Tempest."
Harry nodded, satisfied. Then he turned to the small bot, which was now buzzing around his feet, clearly full of energy. "And you," he said with a smile, "should be called Patch, since you came from the medkit."
Patch chirped excitedly in response, hopping up and down as its optics flashed brightly.
Tempest watched the exchange in silence, his green optics glowing softly in the dark. "Patch and I... we are yours, Creator. Your power gave us life. We will protect you."
Harry's throat tightened at the word "Creator," but he nodded slowly. There was no denying it now. His power—his magic—had brought them both into being. They were alive because of him. And now they were looking to him for guidance.
But as the weight of that realization settled over him, so did another truth. The Dursleys' house was destroyed. Vernon lay unconscious in the rubble, and the noise from the destruction could attract unwanted attention.
"I can't stay here," Harry muttered to himself, glancing at the ruined remains of Privet Drive. "Not after this."
Tempest straightened up, towering above the remnants of the house. His massive frame cast long shadows over the wreckage as he stepped back into the yard, his green optics glowing steadily. "Then we will go," he said simply. "Wherever you go, we will follow."
Patch chirped in agreement, hopping around Harry's feet, clearly ready to move.
Harry took a deep breath, the cold night air filling his lungs as he stared at the destruction. He didn't know where they would go or what would come next, but for the first time in his life, he wasn't alone. He had created life—two beings who stood by his side, ready to follow him into the unknown.
"Alright," Harry said softly, his voice steady. "Let's get out of here."