This will play fast and loose with canon for both Star Trek and Harry Potter, since the starting point is an alteration of the fight at the Ministry. If it doesn't work in Star Trek, then I'm throwing it out the window. As for Harry Potter, Book Sux and Book Sux, Part Deux did not/will not happen in this story. No horcruxes and no specially-introduced-just-for-the-story-goshwow!magical artifacts.


The dust cleared, as did the sparkles in his eyes, and he staggered to the door after realising that he was alone. He shook his head a few times, feeling more than a little out of sorts.

What happened to everyone? Last I remember, the Time Turners were shattering, and I inhaled some of the dust and started coughing. Neville and -

"Hermione!"he screamed. "Where are you guys?" He began to run toward the door where he could last remember them being, but the area was clean. No one stood, and there was no sign that any fighting had happened, despite the running battle that had been happening. He traced back to the room where the prophecy had been stored, and found it standing empty - there were no globes anywhere in the room, but the shelves were all standing.

That makes no sense. I saw them falling no more than a few minutes ago. What the hell did that sand do to me?

He retraced his steps to the room with the broken Time Turners, and noted that they appeared to have been replaced. He pulled one out of the case. If I go back an hour, I should be able to figure out what happened.

Nothing happened. The sand fell, but the familiar feeling from when Hermione had taken him back in time to save Buckbeak and Sirius was missing . . . I've gotta find out if Hermione made it . . . . He was nearing a panic. He headed for the other door in the room.

The door opened into the same damned circular room, which began to spin once more. "Argh!" he yelled. "I just want to find them and get us out of here!" The room stopped spinning, a single door before him. He wrenched it open and staggered through. It looked like it might be the direction that would lead him out. Maybe he'd find the others along the way.

No sign of his friends could be seen.

In fact, there was no sign of anyone living, anywhere he'd been so far.

He made it to the Atrium, which led him to another shock. It had undergone a major amount of design work since he'd headed into the bowels of the place. When did they have the time to install the velvet rope maze? he wondered. And where THE FUCK did everyone go?

He realised that he had no Floo powder available, so he couldn't Floo to Hogwarts or Hogsmeade. Looks like the Knight Bus, then. He shrugged. I need to find out where everyone is.

He stepped into the elevator and rose to the surface, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. When it reached the surface, he stepped out into a personal nightmare.

He wanted to look around, but the large squad had his attention. He reacted immediately, since their clothing was dark and their faces covered. "STUPEFY!" he yelled, trying to run behind the garbage tip.

He was unsuccessful.

He awoke suddenly, but didn't move. Where am I, and how do I escape? He tried to stretch out his senses, but all he could hear were soft mechanical beeps and whistles.

. . . the hell? What would Death Eaters be doing with anything Muggle in their homes?

"You're safe, young man," a woman's voice said from beside him. "They had to stun you before you disappeared into the city of London and really got lost."

"Where am I?" He opened his eyes to see a sterile white room, with a very attractive woman somewhere in her twenties holding a small box and a tiny salt shaker. The salt shaker made an odd warbling noise as she waved it at him.

"Starfleet headquarters in San Francisco," she replied. "You were brought here to bring you up to speed, and make sure that you're healthy. I can see signs of malnutrition."

"Up to speed on what, and how do I get back to England? Hermione and the rest might die in Voldemort's hands! They might already be dead!"

"Humour me, young man. What year is it?"

"It's June 18th, 1996. Why do you ask?" He was more than a little worried.

"Because for me it happens to be June 18th, 2358, by your reckoning."

He awoke some time later, his voice hoarse. "Are you all right now?" the Healer asked

"I don't know. How in hell do I verify that this isn't some really impressive illusion?"

"You think you might be in a holographic suite?" she asked with some curiosity.

"No, an illusion set by Death Eaters. You know, magic?"

She raised an eyebrow. "As in pointing your finger and casting a ball of fire at someone?"

"Well, it's more of a wand."

"But still - if you promise not to hurt me with it, will you show me what you're talking about?"

"There's -" he started, thinking about the Reasonable Restriction for Underage Magic, or whatever the statute's name was, but then he realised that he could use it to be found. "I promise not to hurt you in any way with my demonstration."

She opened a drawer. He could see his glasses and the prophecy globe in there, along with his wand. That startled him. They'd left him the globe and his wand? And how could he see?

"We fixed your eyes," she said as he picked up his glasses. "When we realised that you needed those glasses and weren't allergic to any of our treatments for your myopia."

"What's that going to cost?" he asked.

"That's not a problem. It was an easy procedure - ridiculously so - so I'm not worrying about it."

He held his wand. It felt right, but there was only one way to find out. He aimed at a stool in the room. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he intoned, and the stool rose into the air.

"Amazing! I heard that someone had invented a personal tractor beam once, but -" She pulled out a small block and unfolded it slightly. It warbled as she passed it along the length of the wand. "Amazing! Wood from a holly tree and a bird feather! How . . . never mind. The answer is undoubtedly magic."

Harry was stunned. This was an honest reaction from this woman. She was obviously a Muggle, but how had a noisemaker been able to tell her what - "What kind of feather?"

"Some bird. It's not in the tricorder's database, though."

"Not surprised. It's a phoenix feather."

Her eyes appeared to widen so much that Harry began to wonder if it was possible to actually have one's eyes fall out of their head.

The admiral strode into the room to find the young man talking to the Doctor. "Hello, I'm Admiral Wynd Jaaymeson. They thought I might be best to brief you on things, considering the fact that you came forward with your wand."

"You know what it's for?" the boy asked, agog. "The doctor didn't."

"Oh yes. They aren't common any longer, but what you call magic is known these days to some. In fact, it's what led us to develop some of our more interesting technology. Most of what you can do with your wand, we can do with a bit of technology."

"How did I get here?"

"Actually, that's what I'd like to know. We searched the historical records for you, and had some trouble, but what we did find was even more troubling."

"I hope I didn't do something wrong by coming here."

"We don't know, but by how you mean it, no, you did nothing wrong. I can't tell you what we learned just yet, but I can tell you that there are records from after the date that you told the doctor. So you'll be returning to your own time at some point, but how you do so is what's causing the confusion."


"Well, you're significantly older than the ten you are right now -"

"TEN? I was a little over a month away from sixteen when I . . . when this . . . GAH!"

"I've never heard of time travel making one younger, but it's not exactly something we have a large body of knowledge about. We still can't unlock all of the records in London's Ministry building. Believe me, we'd love to see what was in the Department of Mysteries."

"You know about -"

"It's part of why I was the one chosen to talk to you. We know about the existence of magic, as I said. As you can judge by what hasn't turned grey on the job, I've got red hair. Perhaps you might have known someone with the name Weasley?"

"You're a Weasley?" Harry asked excitedly. "From who?"

"Based on the era you're from, would you recognise the name William? Had a lot of brothers, and one sister?"

Harry grinned. "So you descended from Bill? I'm glad to see that the Weasleys survived in some way. Ron's one of my best friends. Don't know Ginny as well as I'd like -" He paused and scowled. "And I never will now, will I? Even if I return, I'm going to be so much older than them, won't I?"

"I can't tell you that. I can tell you that you'll be older than your current physical age. Don't ask, I can't say, both for temporal security reasons, and honestly, because I don't know."

Admiral Jaaymeson found himself intrigued by the way that the young man relaxed somewhat at the "I don't know" comment. Gives credence to his statement about being older than he looks. An almost-eleven year old would get sulky. He looked a bit perturbed until I said that I don't know, and was even calming when I said there were security reasons.

"I'm curious about something, sir," Harry said. "Who were those guys who were outside the Ministry building when I came out?"

"London police. They registered an alarm in the Ministry building after hours. There was no signature of any sort to explain how you got in there - not even the trace of Apparition, I think it was called? You were suddenly there. And then you came out."

"Apparation," Harry said absently. "So the masks and dark clothes were for their protection, not knowing what exactly was coming out?"


Something struck Harry. "Wait a second! They can technologically track magic now?"

"Well, we can tell that it's happened, and a few other things. Our technology takes advantage of quantum uncertainties, much like magic does. I'm what you'd call a . . . what was it . . . a 'Squeed?'"

"Squib," Harry replied with a laugh. "So your parents can cast spells?"

"Yeah. I went into Starfleet rather than the family business."

The two talked for a while longer, with Harry being brought up to speed in regards to magic and current technology. Something had happened that had caused the wall between the worlds to fall, although Wynd wouldn't explain what, and rather than the expected stringing up or burning of witches and wizards, the non-magical people began to study what the wizards did, and found ways of mimicking or replicating those effects. This had, in turn, led to the wizards finally breaking through their complacency, and that had been the dawn of the new peaceful age that they were currently enjoying. Yes, there were wars out in space, but they had largely managed to quell that on Earth and the human colonies. There was even a nearby colony of New Londinium made up largely of wizards and witches.

"Would it be possible for me to join this Starfleet?" Harry finally asked after he'd been given the quick history lesson.

"Honestly, I suspect that it's the only way that you'll get home, Harry," the Admiral replied.

He was given access to terminals and such to begin learning, and he startled everyone in how quickly he learned things. "The only real way to describe the difference is to describe the old me as if . . . well, my thoughts moved as if I were swimming through treacle in comparison, now that I have a difference to compare it to," he explained to one of the doctors who asked him. "Now that I'm here, I don't seem to have that problem. And the spells I've cast seem to have more power to them."

"You mentioned this Voldemort person," Admiral Jaaymeson said when this was relayed to him. "That scar was a connection to him. Is it possible that it might have been more true than anyone suspects - that he was draining your magic and life force to keep himself alive? It might explain your increase in energy and ability to think better."

"Wouldn't surprise me, to be honest. I may never know. What's going to be done with me once I'm up to speed?"

"Well, at the age you appear to be, we'd have you in school, but I suspect that we'll see about getting you a test to enter Starfleet Academy. I have a strong feeling that you'll do well."

He was sent to the New Londinium colony to finish his magical training, learning more than he would have thought possible. They verified for him that with Voldemort dead in the past - verified by the records that they had been able to salvage - the drain on his magic and thoughts was gone.

He took to his studies like Hermione did - reading everything he could get his hands on. They tsk'ed his Potions knowledge, but when he explained the way he'd been taught, they worked out a method to bring him up to speed.

No one could explain the loss of five years of his age - or, for that matter, why it seemed to have been time travel to exactly 362 years in the future. (To the second, from what they could tell.) His magical core was that of a sixteen year old (by the time that he reached New Londinium, his birthday had passed), so they taught him as such.

What truly amused him was finding out the history of the family that he lived with on New Londinium. Their last name was MacTavert, but it seemed that about three hundred and forty years earlier, one Dudley Dursley had thrown his wife and daughter out of the house when it was discovered that the young girl was magical. This family had been descendants of that daughter, and had actually petitioned to foster him while on New Londinium, unknowing of the connection during their petition.

Before he'd been there five months, he had reached the point that Hogwarts would have trained him to. He continued to learn, since the magical world had exploded, educationally speaking, since the secrecy statutes had fallen in the early 21st century. He was taught an amusing trick that a handful of magically adept who had joined Starfleet had learned - he learned to tune a phaser so that he could cast some of the spells that current technology still couldn't mimic, turning it into a secondary wand.

With a number of high level Divination experts nearby, he also finally listened to the prophecy orb. "They were protecting this?" one of them scoffed when they heard ". . . the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches . . . born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies . . . and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not . . . and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives . . . the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies . . ."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Obviously this referred to you. You have some ability, or knowledge, or something, that will allow you to permanently defeat this Dark Lord of yours. It's vague though. It could have been anyone who was born near the end of July -"

"- or possibly September, given that 'Sept-' means seven in Latin -" someone interjected, but received dirty look from the original speaker.

"- July, with parents who defied him in some way. Dumbledore's socks, that could be anyone, since anyone can defy someone, even if the person being defied doesn't know it!" He shook his head. "I assume that your scar is the mark referred to, and this power that he knows not? Could be anything. For all we know, you return to the past and land a shuttlecraft on his chest! I doubt he'd know what one of them is."

"The 'neither can live' section is weird," the interrupter said. "I suspect that they were referring to not being able to get on with your life while you're worrying about a murdering psychopath. Either that or you're an undead with the ability to fool every sensor known to the Federation. I rather suspect that last one as being unlikely," he finished with a grin.

"I hope so," Harry replied, laughing. "So Dumbledore kept this from me without reason, basically?"

"How can you be sure it was Dumbledore?" the first speaker asked.

"'S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D.', and on the next line it reads 'Dark Lord and (?)Harry Potter'. Not sure who the S.P.T. is, although I suspect it might be our Divinations teacher, since that would explain why he hired a fraud for the position. But those five initials can only be Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. So he knew, and never told me. I suspect that he was grooming me for something or other. If I ever return, I'll find out from him."

He was amused by the grilling he received, when it was realised that he had personally known the man who was now invoked even more than Merlin was.

By the time he left New Londinium with a permanent invitation to consider the MacTavert home as family, he had been awarded certifications in all of his Hogwarts core subjects, and was given hints that he should probably think about going for Masteries in several subjects when he returned to the planet.