2. Questions and Answers.

Hand raised, Kirk stood before a large and surreal looking wooden door, trying to ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him that the castle could hold more unknown horrors. Strangely enough, the voice had begun to adopt McCoy's exact way of speaking, even down to the tone of voice. Shaking his head slightly, and glancing at the CMO who stood slightly behind him, he knocked.

There was no answer for several minutes.

"Well," McCoy muttered morosely, "at least we know there's no one home who can hurt us."

Kirk frowned at this, took a few steps back and gazed at the spectacle before him once more. "The lights are on."

"Maybe it's to warn off burglars."

Spock almost considered rolling his eyes. Almost. "Do not be ridiculous Doctor."

"It's a perfectly possible explanation," McCoy countered belligerently. "We used to do it all the time on Earth."

"After the events we have witnessed today, I do not consider it likely that we are on Earth, Doctor."

"Besides," Kirk added before McCoy could retort, leaving the other human with a half open mouth and angry finger raised. "In a castle this size there should always be someone around, even if it's only cleaners."

There was a moment of silence. "Perhaps you should attempt again, Captain."

Kirk raised his fist and knocked, the loud noise seeming to echo slightly through the halls beyond. Cradling his now injured fingers, the golden haired man nodded in satisfaction. "I think we can safely say they heard that."

McCoy sighed and grabbed gently at the hand, examining it with a light surgeon's touch and ignoring Kirk's startled protests. "And I can safely say that you've broken your hand, Jim." He let it go and lifted his eyes to meet his friend's startled expression. "Congratulations."

Before anyone could reply, the door began to creak open mysteriously, seemingly of its own accord. The three officers stood with bated breath, neither daring nor wishing to know what lurked on the other side. It was rather anticlimactic, therefore, when the door swung fully open and revealed an eccentrically dressed old man, silver beard hanging in long curls, standing next to a tall, scowling man dressed in black.

Kirk gave Spock a brief look before stepping in, hearing McCoy curse to a halt behind them. He turned to give the cantankerous surgeon a reassuring look, before returning his attention to the men before him, the older of whom had by now stepped forward, hands lifted slightly.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," He said sagely, before dropping his arms to his sides with a faintly mysterious air.

Clearing his throat, Kirk felt like he was being interrogated beneath the intense, black glare of the man who had yet to move or utter a word. "I'm James T Kirk, this is Spock" he gestured to his Vulcan officer, who was currently locked in an apparent staring contest with the man in black, "and this is Doctor McCoy."

The old man exchanged a brief look with the man in black, something flashing through his eyes before disappearing, the briefest and smallest of nods given. Hooked nose and dark eyes resumed staring at Spock, who stiffened.

Spectacled eyes regarded them with interest. "How did you come to be in the Forbidden Forest?"

"We're...not sure," Kirk replied warily, knowing how strange and suspicious that sounded. "We were on our ship on a routine mission, smoke appeared, and we found ourselves here."

"I see. Where is this ship docked?"

Here comes the difficult part, Kirk thought wryly. He had given this explanation countless times when necessary, but it never became any easier. "It's a space ship."

The eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "Then you have travelled a long way."

"You...could say that, yes."

Spock drew himself up straighter and seemed to grimace slightly, his eyes still locked upon the other man's. A small bead of sweat appeared on his brow, and McCoy frowned in concern, glancing between the two men.

"I have always been fascinated by Muggle technology," the older man suddenly murmured, drawing their attention back to him.

"Muggle?" McCoy repeated, finally finding his voice.

"Ah..." All eyes snapped to the man in black, who had suddenly jerked his head slightly and groaned, his eyes narrowing.

"Is something wrong, Severus?"

The dark head shook gently, the eyes never moving. It was as though he were carved in stone. "No," he snapped shortly.

The old man returned his gaze to Kirk and McCoy once more, eyes slightly amused. "You were describing your space ship?"

Kirk blinked, eyes darting to Spock briefly in concern. He shook his head, "you were about to explain what Muggle meant," he countered.

"Ah yes, of course," came the polite reply. "I will explain it later, but first I need to make sure that you are who you say you are."

Kirk exchanged a brief look with McCoy, silently asking for his opinion. There was an almost imperceptible nod. "We belong to the United Federation of Planets. Our job is to explore new planets, to find new life and keep peace with them."

"I see..."

A sudden gasp sounded from behind the old man as his subordinate's head jerked backwards fractionally. "Stop..." the man muttered, oblivious to the conversation around him.

"You explore planets," the silver bearded man announced jovially, once more interrupting their thoughts. "I did not think that Muggle technology had advanced that far."

"You keep saying that word," McCoy all but verbally pounced on the man. "What does it mean?"

There was a small shrug. "Nothing can be known all at once."

"Stop..." slightly louder this time as the man all but jumped. "What..." Spock's eyes narrowed in reply.

The silver haired man opened his mouth to speak once more but McCoy was too quick for him. "This has gone on long enough. What's he doing to him?"

"I'm not sure," the man replied mildly. "It depends on who is doing what to whom."

"Are you trying to be funny?" McCoy fumed, stepping closer to the group.

No reply came however, as he turned backwards and addressed the man in black. "It's all right Severus. I think you can stop now."

Before anyone could question this statement further, both Spock and the stranger seemed to stumble forwards slightly, eye contact broken. "I could not enter his mind, Headmaster. He has considerable defences."

The man who had now been identified as the headmaster turned considering eyes to Spock, who was busy fending off McCoy's concerned questions. "It seems that all is not as it appears."

"It never is," Kirk countered.

"We may have to take their word for it, Severus."

Dark eyes widened and Severus took a step forwards. "Considering the current threat of the Dark Lord's forces I do not think that that is appropriate."

"We have little choice."

Severus Snape drew himself up, gaze boring into the eyes of the older man. "I advise against it. If we discover that they are spies..."

"We'll prove our loyalty to you," Kirk said before he could stop himself.

Snape's lip curled. "You seem overly enthusiastic for an innocent traveller."

"You just said that you can't trust us unless you know who we are." He considered for a moment. "And yours is the only shelter around. We need your help."

"It appears that your worries have been solved, Severus."

Kirk, ignoring this last remark, turned to face Spock with his most hopeful smile. "Are you willing to mind meld with him?" He indicated Snape with his head.

Spock's face was even more unreadable than ever. "It appears that I have little choice." He walked sedately over to the dark haired man, rubbing his hands together as was his habit before a meld. "It will be necessary for me to place my hands on your meld points." At Snape's blank look, he explained briefly, "They are positioned across the forehead and cheek bones. Is that permissible?"

"Yes."

Spock's fingers gradually came to rest upon the face of the man before him, and his eyes slid shut in concentration as he established contact. Snape appeared to be used to mental contact, for he barely reacted aside from a slight movement of the head.

"My mind to your mind."

"My thoughts to your thoughts," they murmured simultaneously, their voices mingling to create a deep baritone. Gradually their breathing evened out until they matched, their chests moving in synchronization as Spock shifted slightly on the spot, lips moving soundlessly as he transmitted things across the vastness of their mingled minds.

After a few minutes, they both blinked and separated as though emerging from a particularly deep dream, their expressions slightly foggy.

Snape turned to his headmaster. "They tell the truth." His forehead creased slightly, his eyebrows almost joining together. "He...is not an ordinary Muggle."

"Oh?" There was amusement at the look on Snape's face. "How so?"

"He was raised in an area of overly tall elves who called themselves Vulcans."

An indignantly raised eyebrow accompanied this comment but it was surprisingly McCoy who stepped in. "They're not elves..." he glanced at Spock's ears and appeared to reconsider slightly, "although they may appear that way."

"Either way," the headmaster interrupted, "you must not remain outside." He stepped to one side, allowing them entrance beyond the doorway. Once they had shuffled slightly further into the building Snape closed the door, which issued an echoing thud as it impacted with the stone. "If you will follow me I will be quite happy to provide explanations for your questions."

A ghost suddenly emerged from within a solid wall, drifting leisurely past the group and booming a cheery "hello" as he passed before diving into yet another wall.

McCoy gaped. "Ghosts? You have ghosts here?"

The headmaster halted and glanced at the wall thoughtfully before resuming his journey. "Yes. This is a castle after all."

Their trek swiftly ended as they approached yet another large door, which thankfully was slightly more welcoming and homely than the previous one. It too appeared to open without any force, despite its size. Spock spared it a brief raised eyebrow as they entered the room.

Once inside, the two strangers paused to allow the three officers time to absorb their new surroundings, watching in slight amusement as they gawped at the large landscape of the sky above. The sun was beginning to crawl over the horizon, the sky deepening in colour slightly as evening began to set in, casting the room in a heavy lighting and emphasising its great length.

Kirk pointed wordlessly up at the sky, opening and closing his mouth a few times. All the while, he was watched with the amusement of a man used to these reactions. "A glass ceiling?" He finally asked feebly.

"It has been enchanted to appear that way."

"Enchanted?" McCoy snorted. "You expect me to believe in magic now, on top of everything else?"

"Why not?" The headmaster questioned in a reasonable voice. When McCoy had no coherent answer to that, he swept slightly further into the hall, allowing the doors to close behind them. "Please, take a seat."

"There appear to be no..." Spock trailed off as with a flick of his wand the headmaster conjured chairs for everyone. "Fascinating."

"Before we begin," Dumbledore asked cheerfully, "would anyone care for a Lemon Drop?"

"A Lemon Drop?" McCoy squawked. "You're offering lemon drops at a time like this?"

"I thought not," Dumbledore replied mildly. "Now," he continued, lowering himself gracefully into a large armchair. "I believe that it is an appropriate time to introduce ourselves. I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This," he indicated his companion who had settled into the chair next to him, "is the Potions Master, Severus Snape. You are currently sitting in the Great Hall, which will soon be filled with students of magic."

"How soon?" McCoy asked, voice quavering at the thought of more people who could perform magic.

"Five days."

"So we have five days to find a way home," Kirk murmured.

"You are quite welcome to stay here for a longer period of time than that. In fact, it may be necessary." He leaned forwards slightly, fixing the visitors with a piercing stare. "You were transported here by magic, and it takes considerable time and effort to find a counter spell."

"Great," McCoy muttered morosely.

"Fortunately," Dumbledore continued cheerfully, "we have numerous professors quite capable of such a task."

"I am curious," Spock broke in. "How is magic used?"

"The mechanics are rather difficult to explain I'm afraid, but simply phrased, you use a wand and recite spells, should you be properly trained. Not everyone has this ability, you see."

"Fascinating."

"Would we be able to perform magic?" Kirk asked before he could stop himself, the entire aura of the castle transporting him momentarily back to childhood games of spell making.

At a prompting glance from Dumbledore, Snape sighed and began to explain. "From the 'mind meld' I saw the possibility to do passive magic only" he drawled. "Their abilities are not sufficiently strong or mastered to do anything more sophisticated."

"Interesting. Logically it could be deduced that everyone from our universe possesses a slight ability, but due to scientific laws this remains undiscovered and unable to be utilised unless in a suitable environment."

"So everyone has the 'magic gene'," McCoy repeated sceptically, "but our universe is not magical enough for us to use it."

"I believe I just said that Doctor."

"Then why can't we do more advanced magic?" Kirk asked. "We have the potential ability. With enough practice, we could-"

"It is not that simple," Snape snapped. "Abilities must be honed from childhood; you cannot simply expect to be a master at something which you have just discovered. Magic requires years of dedication."

"It is unfortunate," Dumbledore added. "But nothing can be done." He leaned forwards once more. "Since you will remain here for an undetermined period of time, there are certain things, or people, from this universe that you should know about." His tone became even more serious, his eyes even more sombre. "If you are ever to leave this castle, you must be cautious at all times. Voldemort," he acknowledged Snape's scowl, "although most prefer to call him "the Dark Lord", "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" or other variations, is constantly working to ensure that his future rise to power will be successful. Since the wizarding world is insistent upon denying his existence, his forces are able to move with stealth and may decide to attack this castle when they are strong enough."

"Who is Voldemort?" Spock questioned, either not noticing or ignoring Snape's deepening scowl.

"You must not address the Dark Lord by name," he almost snarled.

Spock inclined his head politely. "It was not my intention to cause offence."

"He is an extremely powerful wizard," Dumbledore continued as though there had been no interruption, "whose aims for world dominance and pureness of the wizarding race have gained much support, especially among the pure bloods."

"Pure bloods?" McCoy repeated. "Are we talking about magic or vampires?"

"Perhaps if you will allow the headmaster to finish-" Snape began ominously, but was cut short by a slight raised hand on the part of Dumbledore.

"The name pure blood is simply used to describe those of pure wizard or witch ancestry," the headmaster explained. "They are currently extremely rare." At their questioning looks he explained further, "many have, over hundreds of years gone by, married into the families of Muggles; those who have no magical ability." He tilted his head to the side slightly and appeared to reconsider that statement. "Although that is not entirely true; some Muggle borns have been known to possess magical ability."

"This Voldemor-" Kirk was cut off by a glare from Snape, "Dark Lord," he hastily amended, "you mentioned he has many followers."

Dumbledore nodded. "Death Eaters. You will see them wearing black robes, masks and hoods, although much of the wizarding population wear black robes and hoods. It is a rather confusing trend... Simply look for white masks."

"Alternatively," Snape added, "they can be identified by the Dark Mark on their arm."

"What does it look like?" Kirk asked.

For a brief moment Dumbledore's eyes appeared to flit to meet those of Snape, although the exchange was almost too quick to be seen. "You will recognise it," the headmaster finally replied. "It is a rather strange tattoo."

"We'll keep our eyes peeled," McCoy promised, not really certain that they would be able to recognise any Death Eaters if they saw them.

"There is one other important piece of information that you should know," Dumbledore added. "You will also hear many references to 'The Boy Who Lived'. He is, to date, the only known person to survive the 'Avada Kedavra' spell, which is designed to kill immediately. His name is Harry Potter," Snape's lip curled in distaste. "Many would consider him our only hope against Voldemort."

"This...Voldemort," Kirk asked, slowly beginning to piece together the information. "Is he powerful enough to bring us here?"

"Why would the Dark Lord want to bring three almost Squibs?" Snape sneered.

"Theoretically he could, yes." Dumbledore conceded, ignoring Snape's comment completely. "Although I do not know of any existing spell which he could use."

"If he discovered one, even accidentally," Kirk continued, "he has the power to do it?"

"Captain, what exactly happened on your ship before you disappeared?" Dumbledore questioned; eyes serious and piercing.

"It was a routine mission..." Slowly Kirk began to describe, in great detail in case he had missed something which was significant in the magical universe, but insignificant in their own, what had happened on the Bridge just a few hours ago.

When he finished, Dumbledore shook his head slightly. "It seems that he has outdone himself."

"You mean that he's on my ship?" Kirk questioned, voice shocked and cold as he realised what this meant. "This powerful dark wizard is on my ship?"

"It would appear so," Snape answered.

"He'll destroy it!" Kirk shouted, springing from his chair and beginning to pace. "I have to find a way to warn Scotty...the Federation could be in danger!"

"Captain, calm yourself," Spock said quietly.

Kirk whirled to face him. "Voldemort is on my ship! I think panic is justified!"

Spock sagely shook his head. "I do not believe that a threat exists, Captain."

"How?"

The Vulcan sighed lightly and gestured for the human to sit down. Once the Captain had reluctantly done so, he began to explain to both McCoy and Kirk, who were barely managing to restrain their anger and panic. "He may possess considerable magical ability in this universe, gentlemen, but our universe is not equipped for him to perform it. He will be of little threat."

"As long as the security team managed to restrain him on time." McCoy muttered darkly.

"Bones, that isn't helping." Kirk snapped.

"I assure you Captain," Snape interrupted. "Your First Officer is correct; he will pose no threat without his abilities."

Kirk sighed. "It's all up to Scotty now..."

oOo

Meanwhile, on the Enterprise:

Chief Engineer Scott wiped his brow, uncaring of the dirt that streaked across his face. After many hours of intense labouring, he had finally managed to finish the broken equipment aboard the ship after the last battle, with the help of his ever loyal team of dedicated engineers. He only hoped that it stayed that way.

Dragging himself out from under the latest machine, he sighed in satisfaction, tapping his hand lovingly on the wall next to him. It was a beautiful ship; sleek and capable of almost anything, within reason. Keeping her together was a job worth having.

Whistling to himself, he began to pack up his tools, dismissing the exhausted looking Ensign who had been helping him. A chirping sounded at his shoulder and he turned to the com. "Scott here."

"Mister Scott," Uhura's voice was urgent and worried. "We have a situation up here."

"What kind of situation?" He glanced to the light above the door. It was not glowing red.

"The Captain, Mister Spock and Doctor McCoy have just...disappeared, sir."

"Disappeared?" Scott shouted, clutching the toolbox with painful strength. "How did it happen this time and why aren't we on red alert?"

"I'm not sure sir...smoke appeared and then they were gone. There was no time to put the ship on alert."

Scott sighed heavily, trudging his way as quickly as he could towards the door. "On my way," he called out over his shoulder, letting a nearby Lieutenant turn the com off.

Stepping out of the turbolift and onto the Bridge a few moments later, he blinked in surprise at the pale snakelike figure towering over the consoles of Chekov and Sulu, three black hooded figures surrounding him with hands raised and holding what appeared to be small sticks. For his part, their leader was surveying the Bridge calmly, pointing his own stick at the Security Guards, who merely stood staring, unsure of whether or not the flimsy weapons were any threat.

Stepping forwards with unmistakable authority, Scott was instantly in control of the situation. "Who are ye and what are ye doin' here?"

The pale face before him tilted to one side, eyes cold and considering, the voice when it answered unbelievingly high pitched. "You do not recognise me?"

"Nae," Scott answered, puzzled and worried about the disappeared officers. "Should I?"

The head levelled again and the figure stepped forward, twirling the stick in his hands leisurely. "I should think so. I am Lord Voldemort."

There was several beats of silence. "We do nae recognise that name," Scott explained. He turned to the Security guards. "What do ye think ye'r doin' standin' there like that, unarmed? Set yer phasers on stun!" The red shirts hurriedly jumped to obey.

"That would not be wise," the self proclaimed Lord hissed. He once again clutched the stick in his hands, this time pointed at the guard nearest to him.

"What are ye gonna do, lad?" Scott snapped, staring right into the cold eyes. "Poke them to death?"

There was a short, shrill laugh from next to the Lord. "You do not know what my Lord can do," a woman announced with something terrifyingly akin to pride in her voice. Her eyes narrowed at them. "But you will soon find out."

Voldemort raised a hand as the youngest man in robes moved to attack. "Not yet. They are just Muggles, they don't understand." He licked his lips and smiled slightly. "I would prefer to see fear in their faces as they die, not ignorance."

The man obligingly lowered his arm slightly and relaxed. "As you wish, my Lord."

"Muggles?" Scott repeated uncomprehendingly. "What are ye talkin' about?"

The woman at the Lord's side laughed. The sound was tinged with madness. "So unintelligent, my Lord. They are the best to kill."

"Yes," the pale man agreed slowly, licking his lips ever so slightly. He levelled his gaze at Scott once more. "You, Muggle, I assume that you're in command of this pitifully small army?"

"There's a lot more where that came from," Scott barked, beginning to lose patience. "If ye do nae tell me what yer business is here, I will have ye thrown in the brig and taken to the nearest Star Base. Ye'll be there for a very long time."

At the mention of a Star Base the man's eyes had widened. "A space ship? Even better," he hissed. "In space no one can hear you scream."

"Then I suggest ye remember it for future reference," Scott threatened. At the man's laugh, he continued, voice rising slightly. "If ye do nae return the Cap'n and his two officers, I will nae be held responsible for what I do to ye."

The soft, high laugh continued but the eyes showed no mirth. "You dare to threaten me, Muggle? Do you know what this wand can do to you? I can hex you until you're no longer human," he seemed to smile at memories which no one else could see, "or torture you into insanity." At this revelation Uhura gasped lightly, and the mood around the Bridge darkened considerably. "I have had quite a lot of practice. Is that the fate you want?"

"Magic does nae exist," Scott scoffed.

"Be careful, Meester Scott," Chekov suddenly warned. "In Russia zer ver many tales of magic and of people who interfered."

Voldemort nodded slowly. "You learn fast, Muggle. I cannot say the same for your commander." Slits for eyes were narrowed at him, the red rims standing out against the too pale face.

Scott fought back the feeling of dread which had settled upon him, trying to use logic to remind himself that magic did not exist. Could not exist. "There is nae such thing."

All traces of humour had vanished at those words, the cold voice becoming hard and unrelenting as he gave a short signal to his followers, who stepped menacingly forwards. "Then I will make you believe in it. The hard way."

Wands were pointed at various people around the room. Voldemort gazed into Scott's eyes for a few final moments before raising his own weapon. "I smell your fear, Muggle." He hissed, voice carrying despite its low pitch. The eyes widened slightly to emphasis his next point; "It smells good."

"Avada Kedavra!" The shout echoed about the Bridge, all voices speaking simultaneously and forming the call of death.

None came.

Scott smiled in triumph as the strangers eyed their wands with suspicion bordering on outrage, powerless now like fish out of water. Yet Voldemort would not be stopped. He threw his now useless wand to the floor as the nearest Security guard moved to restrain him, struggling with all his strength even as he began to lose.

"My Lord!" The woman threw herself at the guard attacking Voldemort, frenzy in her eyes as she lunged and scraped her way to her leader, who now lay prone on the floor, knocked unconscious by a successful blow by the guard. "You have injured My Lord!" She screamed; face wild and hair flying haphazardly as she scrambled to get to Scott. "You will pay for this!" She bellowed threats and curses continuously, until she too lay unconscious on the floor, beside her master to the end.

Scott turned his gaze to the remaining two. "Are ye goin' tae come quietly?" They nodded. "Good. Take them to the brig. Keep them under full surveillance."

With a brief 'yes sir' a few guards moved to pick up the two limp and unconscious bodies, the remaining levelling their phasers at the two strangers, grabbing them roughly by the arm and shoving them towards the turbolift. There was no further trouble as the door closed behind them and the Bridge was once more left in total silence.

Then came the questions.

"Sir, what are we going to do?" An Ensign asked, panic in her voice as she realised that they were now without a Captain, on a ship with four psychopathic murderers.

"We find the Cap'n, and bring him back." Scott's voice was strong and firm, ringing out across the still room. "Mister Chekov?"

"Aye sir?"

"How exactly did they disappear?"

Chekov's face was white at the memory, but his voice was steady. "The Lord and his men began to appear on the Bridge, sir. The Kyptin began complaining about smoke and then they began to disappear."

"No one else saw the smoke sir, so we weren't sure what was happening." Sulu continued. "Chekov only began taking readings at the science station on Mr Spock's orders, once we realised that they were disappearing."

"If we can find a clue in those readings," Scott thought aloud, "we may be able to retrieve them."

"I weel start on zat right avay, sir," Chekov announced with barely concealed excitement as he moved to the science station, swapping places with the Ensign there.

"Until then, all we can do is wait." Sitting down in a chair that he should not have been occupying, Scott proceeded to do just that. They would get them back, no matter how long it took.