Sorry, this story does not feature James T. Kirk's crew, not even Jean-Luc Picard's. Harry Potter Books 5 to 7 are disregarded, as I want Sirius Black to live long enough.

Here are the Star Trek characters I'm going to use:

NX - 01 Enterprise Senior officers: Captain Jonathan Archer; Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, Tactical Officer; Subcommander T'Pol, Science Officer; Ensign Travis Mayweather, Helmsman; Ensign Hoshi Sato, Comminications Officer; Commander Charles Tucker III, Chief Engineer; and Dr. Phlox, Chief Medical Officer

I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters and any of the Star Trek characters here. They belong to J.K Rowling and to Gene Roddenbery. I do not intend to cause distress or disrespect to all the HP fans and to the trekkies out there. I only meant to entertain myself and all the 20th-century Muggle-trekkies who would love to indulge in crossover stories. But I own the plot, so please, whenever you produce copies of this, please make the proper citations. And oh, do NOT reproduce this for any commercial reasons. You would not only commit plagiarism against me, but also to Ms. Rowling and to Mr. Roddenbery.

Sincerely,

Impaler Triumphant


Judging by the view of the constellations in the sky, the time of day would most certainly be one thirty in the morning. Light blue faint light lighted the dim hall of the Hospital Wing, competing against the sable light from the lamp of one end table from the other side of the Wing. Nevertheless, these two lights never failed in lighting the peaceful faces of patients soundly asleep in their hospital beds.

Only, not all patients are soundly asleep in their beds. Harry Potter was since tossing and turning, not because of the rasping pain from his casted arms and legs from that Quidditch accident, but because of that distinct memory he's only seen whenever a Dementor comes close at him-his mother's plea for mercy, then Voldemort's laugh. He could not make himself sleep snugly once again this night.

Therefore we can be certain that Harry is indeed awake at this time at night.

Only recently, the conversation in his head seemed to have transferred its source to both his ears. It only took a while before he was certain that the auditory nerve impulses indeed came from an outside source. It was a chatter, a rather worried one, from familiar voices; voices of Professors McGonagall, Dumbledore, Snape, and the medwitch Pomfrey.

Harry pretended to be asleep.

"Gently with the mobilicorpus, Professor Flitwick, if you please." McGonagall's tone was the most worried-sounding of all.

"No wound and all bruises. No bruises on the head. How did he fall down unconscious?" Pomfrey gave her best observation of the diagnosis.

"I am certain that I heard him screaming before I saw him in that state. He must be attacked." Snape rumbled. "I heard wheezing, buzzing sounds."

Madam Pomfrey must be successful anyway when she soon had Filch revived again. The staff saw their school caretaker catch his breath.

"How do you feel?" Dumbledore calmly asked.

"Like lightning hit my chest," Filch gasped, "Wizards, shooting beams of light at me. They seemed to have used an Expelliarmus charm, since it was red light, but it was no Expelliarmus charm. The beam didn't pop from their wands. It was a steady stream. Soon I felt a thousand lightning bolts prick all over me, then I blacked out."

"Did you see their faces?" Dumbedore enquired.

"No, professor."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Now the staff around Filch looked more worried than ever, as their glances to each other proved so.

"I could swear they're Death Eaters." Flitwick's voice buzzed across the room.

"But they couldn't have—Professor Dumbledore, the wards, they're still working, aren't they?" Minerva trembled, rubbing the tip of her wand with her fingers.

Dumbledore could only give a faraway, contemplative look across the window.