6. Sorting.
They had braced themselves in the days since their arrival for the beginning of term. They had read through a few chapters of the books the day before, attempting desperately to at least gain some magical knowledge before they had to participate in class. They had been warned by Snape, who had apparently relished the situation to some extent, that they did not have any 'advantage' over the current students, but would be subjected to the same rules as them. They had agreed to this, knowing that it would be unreasonable to do otherwise even when they felt severe doubt about their ability to perform in this new environment.
After several hours of reading, the two humans had largely given up, preferring to discuss the events of the past few days and the problems which could await them when they returned to the ship. Spock, however, completely ignored them in a valiant attempt to memorise the information, although he found it extremely difficult when it contradicted everything which he previously knew. On top of that, they had no points of reference, and no personal experience or observation to attach to the information provided to them.
Yet they still learnt something; small things, but it was a start.
It was with some trepidation that they made their way to the Great Hall and waited with the first years, as Dumbledore had earlier instructed them to do. They were to walk in and, since they would be remaining at Hogwarts for an indefinite period of time, be sorted into houses just as the students were.
After much staring and whispering from the first years, the giant doors swung open, revealing a large room filled to the brim with older students, all of whom were levelling smiling expressions on the first years, who suddenly seemed to shrink into themselves. The professors sat on a slightly raised dais, Dumbledore in the middle, face radiating enthusiasm for the coming year.
A stool was placed at the front of the hall, adjacent to the two middle house tables and a heavily patched and ripped hat was placed on top of it. The three officers exchanged wary glances as they were brought to a halt and the doors closed behind them.
To their intense shock, the rip facing the congregation opened slowly as though yawning for a fleeting moment, and then launched into song:
In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted
"Fascinating," Spock murmured under the cover of the hat's voice, which was ringing out through the hall as the students listened attentively.
"The hat's alive!" McCoy choked out, squinting at it.
"It is not alive, Doctor," Spock corrected, "merely enchanted."
"I still don't believe it," the physician continued. Their conversation had drawn the attention of a meek looking first year, who was staring at Spock's ears with wide eyes. "Someone pinch me; I must be dreaming." Kirk obliged and McCoy jumped slightly, swatting at his friend's hand.
"That is a highly illogical practice."
"I didn't want him to pinch me," McCoy clarified quietly, glaring at Kirk.
The Captain shrugged. "You did ask."
"Indeed," Spock added, still staring at the hat. "I fail to see why you would refuse the offer of something which you yourself previously demanded."
"It's a Terran tradition," Kirk grinned.
"Perhaps that is why it has no logical use that I can discern."
...So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale...
"What is it talking about?" McCoy asked in bewilderment.
Kirk shrugged. "Something about something gone wrong."
"That was a lot of help, Jim, thank you," McCoy said acerbically.
There was the faintest exhalation of air from the Vulcan next to them. "If you had been listening, gentlemen, you would know that the song details the beginning of Hogwarts School, the original aim to pass on their knowledge...which was unfortunately marred by worsening relations between the founders."
"How do you do that?" Kirk asked.
"Clarify."
"Remember speeches at the same time as having a conversation."
Spock removed his eyes from the show before him and glanced at Kirk in amusement. "I am able to, as you humans would say, 'multi task'." He turned away from them once more.
"You do it very well."
"Thank you, Captain. However, if you wish to understand the song, I suggest that you pay attention."
Mollified, they returned their eyes to the hat, whose voice still rose in melodious pitch, ducking occasionally between notes.
..These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A house in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so...
"I wonder how they managed to make the hat talk."
"I estimate, Captain, that it is a simple enough enchantment for those skilled in the magical arts."
"You make it sound so scientific," McCoy snorted.
An eyebrow twitched. "Given the nature of this universe, I would venture to say that it is in fact a science in its own right."
"You admit that?" McCoy asked.
"To deny the facts would be illogical, Doctor."
...And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw...
"Well Spock," Kirk announced in a whisper, digging the mildly irritated Vulcan in the ribs. "We know which house you're going to."
"That is not certain."
"Stop being so modest," Kirk teased.
"I was not. I was merely reminding you that there are several options, and the choice apparently rests with the 'Sorting Hat', as Professor Dumbledore named it. The outcome could be quite unexpected."
Kirk snorted. "You're going to Ravenclaw. No arguments about it."
"If you insist," Spock said dryly. "However you have little say in the matter."
...So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up our school...
"This hat sure is good at inventive language," McCoy murmured. "For a garment."
"That is to be expected, as it was no doubt enchanted by wizards of high intellect."
"I know that, Mister Spock. I was just observing."
"Maybe," Kirk butted in, "you could observe a bit quieter. I actually want to hear this bit."
...What with duelling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the houses been united
As they once were meant to be.
"Fascinating," Spock intoned, for the thousandth time. "It would appear that, although the house of Slytherin was the cause of the unfortunate discord, its founder was also capable of keeping them united, so to speak. It is highly illogical that one could hold such a paradoxical role."
"That's us humans for you," McCoy commented dryly.
"As I have often observed, Doctor."
...Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it's wrong
Though I must fulfil my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether Sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must united inside her
Or we'll crumble from within
I have told you, I have warned you...
Let the Sorting now begin.
As the hat abruptly became motionless, a steady wave of applause erupted from the table, punctuated by brief murmured discussions under cover of the noise. The first years, by contrast, appeared at a loss as to what to do.
Professor McGonagall, whom they had met briefly at the breakfast table on previous occasions, quietly glared the students into submission before lifting an ominously long parchment into the air and tracing her finger along the top. "Abercrombie, Euan."
Something prodded at them from behind and they stepped apart smartly to allow the young boy access to the front of the hall, the whole school watching him as he staggered up to the stool. Shaking hands lifted the hat and placed it on a small head, the whole thing sagging comically in front of his eyes, held up only by the large ears which protruded from the sides.
The rip near the brim opened and bellowed across the hall, "Gryffindor!"
There was much applause as the young student weaved his way to the empty side of one of the long tables, sitting down gratefully and blushing at all the attention that he was currently receiving. The hall remained completely silent as names were called out methodically, each child joining their respective houses amidst a sudden explosion of applause which was once again replaced by oppressive silence as the next person was awaited.
"Kirk, James."
Kirk gave his two fellow officers a slightly nervous grin, but his stride was confident and assured as he approached the chair, despite the stares and whispers that followed his progress. When he was settled, the hat shifted on his head as it had done for many others.
"Gryffindor!"
"That seems about right," McCoy murmured as Kirk swooped over to the appropriate table, to many looks of curious disbelief.
There was a sizeable interval accompanied by a tense atmosphere as each waited their name to be called.
"McCoy, Leonard."
"Wish me luck," McCoy muttered, though he knew there was no real point in asking for such a thing.
"That would be illogical. Luck does not exist."
"I thought not," he sighed to himself as he began the long and humiliating walk to the stool and perched himself upon it.
The hat shifted and made a small grunting sound. He could not help his eyes from trying to see through his eyelids and hair, wondering what might be happening.
"This is a difficult choice," it finally announced, before dropping its voice and talking to McCoy only, so that they would not be overheard. "You possess the potential to be a Gryffindor when others are threatened, but you are mostly content to avoid danger whenever possible. Your loyalty knows no bounds, you would be a great Hufflepuff." He silently agreed with it. "The properties of the two houses are merged deep within you; only you can choose the outcome. Do you choose courage, or caution; strength, or loyalty?"
He considered for a brief moment, intellectually knowing that for the most part he would be inclined to choose caution, yet Kirk's hopefully smiling face was too much. He knew that his friend would need some company, and so would he, being as they were in a completely alien universe. He would be uncomfortable surrounded by even more daredevils, from the way the hat described it, but it may be in their best interests.
"I choose courage."
"Gryffindor!"
Kirk's face lit up as McCoy walked swiftly over and plonked himself down by his friend's side, relieved as the attention shifted from him. There were a few remaining students left; Spock looking conspicuous standing among them, his sullenness contrasting the stark fear which still featured in many expressions.
"I wonder if Spock'll be with us."
"I doubt it Bones," the golden haired human shook his head. "He's a genius; he'll be in Ravenclaw."
"We'll find out soon enough," McCoy replied as Spock's full, unpronounceable Vulcan name was called, the accent perfect and causing the Vulcan in question's expression to shift slightly to amazement as he obediently sat on the stool, placing the hat on his head.
"Slytherin!"
Kirk, who had been waiting in nervous anticipation, looked shocked. "I was so sure he'd be in Ravenclaw..."
A boy in spectacles and with a lightning scar on his forehead leaned towards them. "The cunning and ambitious go to Slytherin," he explained. "Some are clever enough to be in Ravenclaw."
Kirk frowned. "I wouldn't exactly call Spock ambitious...he can be cunning though, when he's forced to be," he added, remembering the way that Spock Prime had tricked him into thinking the universe would explode if the two versions of himself were allowed to meet.
A girl next to him shrugged. "The hat senses people's deepest selves. Their true personality. In all the time that I've been a student here, it's rarely made a mistake."
"Looks like he's not all you thought he was, mate," a ginger haired boy intoned with slight sympathy, although he was eying the Slytherin table with disgust. "He's getting on pretty well with Malfoy."
The dark haired boy turned to follow his friend's gaze. "You'd better watch out for him."
"We can defend ourselves against this...Malfoy," Kirk assured them.
The girl gave him a weird look. "He means that you have to watch out for your friend."
"Spock's harmless."
Her eyes continued to pierce the Captain's. "Then why is he in Slytherin?" She allowed the message to sink in before suddenly sitting up slightly straighter. "We've forgotten to introduce ourselves," she reminded her two friends.
"Oh yeah..." they both said vaguely, not really looking enthusiastic about the idea.
"I'm Hermione Granger," she said, thrusting her hand across the table to shake theirs.
"I'm Ron Weasley." The ginger boy nodded briefly in their direction.
"Harry Potter."
McCoy's eyes popped. "You're Harry Potter?" There was a slightly embarrassed silence; as though they received this reaction all the time.
"Yeah," Ron finally said, "who else would he be? Do you know anyone else with that face?"
"Ron!" Hermione admonished.
"What?"
"Don't be so tactless," she hissed.
"It's alright, Hermione," Harry grinned, apparently used to Ron's antics. "So where are you from?"
"Originally?" Kirk clarified. "I'm from Iowa."
"Georgia," McCoy provided when they looked at him.
"Why are you so late coming here?" Ron asked through a mouthful of food which had appeared on the table.
"We're from a different universe."
They stared at Kirk. "That's impossible," Hermione finally said.
Kirk shrugged. "Considering we're here...not really."
"How did you get here?" Harry asked when Hermione failed to respond, her mind apparently working over the possibility of other universes.
"Truthfully? We're not sure."
"There was smoke on the Bridge," McCoy clarified. "This pale man appeared with a couple of guards wearing hoods and capes..." they stiffened and exchanged looks at this. "Then we landed in the Forbidden Forest. We can't reach our ship."
"Voldemort's on your ship?" Harry demanded.
"Harry," Hermione hissed. "Don't call him-"
"I'm not going to call him You-Know-Who," the boy shot back.
"Yes, he's on our ship."
"How powerful is it?" Harry continued.
"It's fully equipped with the newest in weapon technology," Kirk explained proudly. "But he won't be able to use any of it to harm you."
"How do you know?" Ron demanded. "He could be taking it over right now, getting ready to launch an attack."
"We know he isn't," Kirk calmly answered, "because you can't use magic in our universe."
"Of course you can," Ron scoffed. "Only Muggles think you can't."
Kirk shook his head. "There is no magic in our universe. We have the ability to perform magic...low levels of magic," he amended, "if taught properly, according to Professor Snape... but we have never been asked to attend a school like this. We also didn't know about our abilities until we came here."
Hermione at any rate did not look convinced. "It's possible," she said slowly, "that you are late developers."
Kirk shook his head. "Professor Snape knows about our universe and its laws- he looked into Spock's mind. There is no way that magic can be used there."
"Everyone knows Snape can't be trusted," Ron said viciously, glaring at the professor in question who was currently prodding sullenly at the food on his plate. "He's a Death Eater."
"Ron!" Hermione gasped.
"What? They need to know if they're staying here!"
"They're still strangers! You can't just go around telling everyone you meet that you think Snape is a Death Eater!"
"Why not?" Ron challenged. "He is."
"That's not the point."
Harry turned back to them, speaking over the small argument brewing in the background. "How long are you here for?"
"We don't know," McCoy said glumly.
"As long as it takes to find a counter-spell," Kirk added.
Hermione suddenly abandoned the argument, leaving Ron with his mouth hanging open in mid point, a bemused look on his face. "That might be impossible."
"We know," Kirk said morosely.
"What is he anyway?" Ron suddenly asked, munching on a sausage and staring over at Spock curiously, who was currently talking to a laughing Malfoy. "An elf?"
"He's too tall," Hermione pointed out.
"Half elf, half giant?" Ron suggested.
"He's a Vulcan," Kirk interrupted.
"What's that?" Ginger eyebrows furrowed.
Kirk and McCoy exchanged glances, wondering just how to explain that. Finally, Kirk sighed and leaned forward to tell them, since McCoy wasn't about to. "A Vulcan is an..." he searched for the right word before finally giving up, "alien. They live on the planet Vulcan...it's near Earth...was near Earth."
"Was?" Hermione immediately pounced.
"Vulcan was..." Kirk seemed to lose himself briefly in the memory of their friend's pain, still fresh in their minds, "lost."
"'ow cam oo yoose uh panneh?"
"Ron," Hermione groaned in disgust. "Do you have to speak with your mouth full?"
"I'm hungry!" He finally blurted after getting rid of the food in a painful swallow, barely pausing to chew.
"It disappeared in a black hole," Kirk explained.
"Did anyone escape?" Harry asked quietly.
"Enough to start a new colony."
The mood darkened as they stared at the impassive Vulcan seated across the room, who appeared to be listening to one of Malfoy's jokes in absolute confusion. The Slytherins watched, grinning. Before any more could be said on the matter, the rest of the food disappeared from the tables and the headmaster rose gracefully to his feet, calling a halt to the chattering.
"Well, now that you are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices. First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students – and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.
"Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of things," he added mildly, "all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr Filch's office door.
"We have had, as well as the arrival of some unexpected students," he nodded his head at the three officers, "two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." Snape stiffened and his scowl deepened slightly.
"How long do you think Hagrid will be away?" McCoy asked under his breath. They had been told after the fiasco with the squid that the half giant would not be taking their future lessons.
"I don't know," Kirk murmured back, under cover of the unenthusiastic applause.
"Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the..." He trailed off as a stout woman stood up, although it was barely an improvement on her sitting posture. He blinked a few times before composing himself once more and lowering himself back into his seat, giving her his full attention.
"Thank you, Headmaster," the woman simpered in a high pitched girly voice, "for those kind words of welcome." She glanced around the room once before clearing her throat fakely. "Hem, hem."
All of the professors upon the elevated platform looked taken aback; a few even muttering to each other, not caring who saw them. Beside Kirk and McCoy, the three teenagers exchanged smirks.
"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" Her face convulsed into a smile, sending a few of the first years reeling. "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!"
McCoy snorted. "That woman thinks she's talking to a kindergarten class..."
"She won't get very far talking to them like that," Kirk agreed, taking in the shocked and slightly insulted faces around them.
"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"
McCoy rolled his eyes and tried not to chuckle; his shoulders shaking silently. "Oh Lord...she's deluded for sure."
From further along the table, a few girls giggled at some shared joke, staring at the new professor's clothes.
"Hem, hem." She seemed to brace herself before her voice became computerized and dull, clearly spouting words which had been pre-learnt. "The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."
Here she bowed pompously at the professors, who were staring at her in obviously growing disbelief. "Is she for real?" Someone snorted, quite loudly.
She ignored them and carried on with her droning speech, but it was clear that hardly anyone was listening, aside from a few people wearing prefect badges and Spock; who was staring at her in a mix between slight confusion at the references to the wizard world and dawning comprehension.
"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and this is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation..."
McCoy was rolling his eyes in exasperation. "I never liked diplomatic functions, and it's even worse now that it's a magical diplomatic function..."
"No one's even listening," Kirk observed as he watched someone pull out a strange looking magazine, although they appeared to be reading it upside down. "Surely she's noticed?"
"Who knows, Jim. With all that pomp and procedure, I'm surprised she even thinks she's a professor...she's certainly not acting like one."
"I have a feeling," he said absent-mindedly as he watched Spock hang onto her every word, "that we're going to regret not listening to this."
"Why?"
"Spock's listening to her..." the Captain reasoned.
"This is Spock we're talking about, Jim. He'd listen to anything."
"Even so..."
"Well, if we do miss something, at least we can count on him to remember."
"...because some changes will be for the better," Umbridge was continuing, "while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgement. Meanwhile, some habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited." With one last look around the hall, she sat down, a self satisfied smile plastered across her features at the termination of her speech.
Dumbledore immediately stood up and clapped briefly, only a few students and professors joining in. "Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating. Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held..."
"Quidditch?" Kirk asked in interest. "What kind of sport is that?"
"It's kind of hard to explain," Harry finally said. "You could come and watch the tryouts. Maybe, if you like the look of it, you could try and get on the team."
"He wouldn't be allowed to do that," Hermione interjected. "He's not a student."
Kirk shrugged. "It won't hurt to ask."
"Have you ever flown a broom before?"
"Of course they haven't, Ron," Hermione said with patience. "They come from another universe."
Ron seemed determined to save himself in face of that evidence. "Oh yeah...but they could have had...I dunno, mechanical brooms or something."
"Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed. "Muggles don't have things like that."
"They might in the future though," the ginger haired boy pointed out.
"Actually," Kirk said, "we don't. But we do have jet packs."
Ron's features crinkled in confusion even as the others' reflected their shock. "What are they?"
"They're..." the captain seemed to search for the right words, glancing around the room for inspiration, "back packs that make you fly."
Ron looked significantly impressed. "And they say muggles can't do magic."
"That isn't magic, Ron," Hermione emphasised, her tone beginning to turn exasperated.
Standing up with the rest of the crowd, they all began to exit the Great Hall; another tall teenage boy coming over to them clutching a plant. "Hello," he said, thrusting his free hand forward. "I'm Neville Longbottom. So...you're the new people!"
"You could say that," Kirk replied wryly. "I'm James Kirk and this is Leonard McCoy..." he cast a glance around the crowd and spotted his First Officer still among a cluster of Slytherins. "That's Spock."
Neville glanced at the Vulcan. "Watch out for him," he warned. "I've had friends go to Slytherin; they changed completely."
"Are you trying to tell us," McCoy asked, voice somewhere between amusement and annoyance, "that they're going to brainwash him?"
Neville shrugged. "It wouldn't surprise me," he said before the crowd jostled them further up the stairs.