That night, Harry dreamed that he was walking through the Gryffindor Shopping Mall, searching for somebody. There were many automatic, sliding glass doors. He suddenly realized that he was being followed. The follower was a large, beefy man with a purple face. "You're not a wizard anymore, boy!" snarled the man.
Harry ran through a series of glass corridors, each separated by an automatic sliding glass door, until he reached the Portrait Hole. He heard glass crashing behind him, and turned to see the purple-faced man crashing furiously through the glass instead of following the labyrinthine corridors formed by the glass.
Then, he realized that he couldn't remember the password! The Fat Lady stared at him with lifeless eyes. Something was wrong. He turned again. This time, instead of a purple-faced man, he saw a white-faced one: a tall, skeletally thin man with red, snake-like eyes. The glass was simply smashing of its own accord to get out of his way. Beside this man was another, with black, flowing robes, and a thin, sallow face.
Harry tried to remember the password, but then noticed a circular, plastic button set in a rectangular metal plaque. The button had a triangle on it, indicating that it was a lift call button, and that the lift went up. He pushed it, and it glowed a dull orange.
"You can't escape from the Dark Lord, Muggle!" said Snape. He was waving a wand-- Harry's wand.
Lord Voldemort was almost there, and the Fat Lady finally swung open with an electronic "Ding!" revealing the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry jumped through the Portrait Hole, and slammed it shut behind him, just as he heard a hissing, spitting voice gurgle "Avada Kedavra!" on the outside. And, he found the person he was looking for.
"Oi, Harry!" said Ron cheerfully. His silver Prefect badge glittered in the sunlight, only it wasn't a Prefect badge, but a British Airways badge, just like the ones worn by pilots. Harry felt as though the entire Common Room was moving upward very quickly as he heard a man's voice over a radio saying "Cleared for takeoff runway two one left". The acceleration was making him heavy as he struggled to sit next to Ron.
Just then, the Common Room slowed, stopped, and then started moving down. It started falling down. Harry, Ron, the furniture, and the flaming wood in the grate all became weightless and started to drift about the room. "Albus, we have a problem," said the voice over the radio. Harry remembered that Snape had taken his broomstick as well as his wand.
"You know, Harry," said Ron, stretching a seat belt over himself that was somehow attached to the couch, "we're gonna die when this lift hits the bottom of the shaft." Ron's face became rigid like a person having a seizure. His eyes rolled back into his head, and foam issued from his mouth. He began to convulse. Suddenly, Ron's head bent back and then snapped off, as though an invisible troll had torn it free. Then, Ron's entire body burst, his blood splattering in every direction. The bottom would come at any moment...
Harry awoke, and heard himself screaming frantically. He was alone. After a moment, a wave of relief passed over him as he realized that the Common Room was not a lift falling to the bottom of a shaft, Ron did not really explode, and Snape did not really take his wand and his Firebolt.
Harry put on his robes, and went downstairs. The Common Room was empty. Everybody had already gone to breakfast.
When Harry exited the Gryffindor common room, he found Neville outside the portrait hole.
"Don't let the portrait close!" cried Neville. But it was too late. The portrait door was closed.
"What's the matter, Neville? Did you forget the password again?"
"No," said Neville indignantly. "At least, er, I don't think so. It's 'Permanent Incantation,' right?"
"That sounds right. You mean it didn't work?" Harry decided to try the password, himself: "Permanent Incantation," but the Fat Lady did not answer. In fact, she didn't move at all. She just stared at him with cold, lifeless eyes. A chill ran down Harry's spine as he remembered his dream. She was as still as a Muggle portrait.
Just then, he saw two figures closing in from the other end of the corridor. It was Hermione, leading Professor McGonagall. Hermione was also a Prefect.
"Good morning, Potter, Longbottom," said the old, strict woman. "Permanent Incantation." When the portrait just smiled at her with those cold, lifeless eyes, Professor McGonagall said "Oh my."
"Where's Dumbledore?" asked Harry.
Hermione started to answer, but Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly and Hermione was silenced. "That's Professor Dumbledore, Potter, and he said he was busy with some very important business."
The professor walked up to the portrait and pulled at the edge. It came open with no resistance. "You may enter, Longbottom." Neville scrambled inside.
Harry decided that he was tired and confused, and decided to go on to the Great Hall for breakfast. "Are you coming to breakfast, Hermione?"
"Er, no, I'm too busy helping Professor McGonagall," said Hermione. "I'll see you in Potions."
"Er, I guess," said Harry, feeling that she had snubbed him.
The Great Hall was dark, except for dozens of tiny points of bluish-white light, glimmering from the tips of students' wands. When Harry took his seat, he found that he needed to light his own wand to be able to see his breakfast.
"What has happened to the ceiling?" asked Harry to Ron. The sky did not show in the ceiling. Instead, it had the appearance of solid stone.
"The whole school's gone Muggle" said Ron, with his mouth full of porridge.
"What?"
"Rvry enchtrt hmph disafeara!" mumbled Ron through an even bigger mouthful of porridge.
"Ron, I can't understand you with your mouth full, could you swallow first?" Ron mumbled incoherently. Harry then said, "Hmmphum cah fumphustuph fumbum out foo!"
Ron, getting the point, struggled to swallow, and then said, "Every enchantment in the castle has been dispelled! It's as if this was just an ordinary castle! Dumbledore's trying to re-do the Anti-Disapparation Charm right now."
"I wonder if that 'Captain' bloke is behind this," mused Harry. After all, the so-called 'Captain' and his men Apparated onto the grounds. Perhaps the Anti-Disapparation Charm had already been dispelled at that point.
"You don't think that cap'n's in league with You-Know-Who, do you?"
"Damn it, Ron," swore Harry, "just say Voldemort!" Harry was sick and tired of everybody around him being afraid to use the name. Ron flinched at Harry's use of it. "And yes, he is definitely in league with Voldemort." Ron grimaced. "Why else would he want to get rid of Hogwarts magic?"
"Hello, Potter," said a cold, familiar voice. It was Snape, who had been standing right behind him. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your language."
"What language, English?" Harry was used to speaking first and then thinking later, which had got him in trouble with Snape many, many times in the past.
"Swearing is not tolerated at Hogwarts. You also have detention Saturday, for your cheek. I think that even our biased Headmaster will let this detention stand. Good day, Famous Harry Potter," and with that, Snape strode off, with a smug expression on his face.
On their way to the Potions classroom, which was above ground this year, Harry surveyed the grounds through one of the castle's windows, expecting that at any moment, the grounds would be swarming with Dementors. As he did this, he spotted someone dressed in red. It was the Captain, flanked by the pasty-faced bloke and the bearded man. They were talking with Dumbledore.
As the four wizards conversed on the lawn, Dumbledore was waving his wand furiously at the castle. Sparks and bolts of many different colors were flying from the tip.
Harry grabbed Ron by the robe, who said "Hey!" This caught Hermione's attention as well. "It's that 'Captain' again! He's talking to Dumbledore!" Harry exclaimed. "If only I didn't leave the Invisibility Cloak in the dormitory!"
"We have to get to class!" said Hermione. She was right. Slughorn would notice if they skipped class to spy on Dumbledore.
The potions classroom was filled with sunlight. There were several long tables, with seats for two students per table. Each table had a beaker filled with red liquid, and a bowl filled with aconite.
"Today's lesson shall be easy," said Professor Slughorn, as he stood in front of the blackboard. "We shall be making a Draught of Regrowth. It causes severed limbs to regrow."
Harry thought of the time that his father chopped off his hand. He had to have it replaced with a robotic one. But then he realized that the whole affair was only a science-fiction movie he had seen on television once. It was Luke Skywalker's father and hand, not Harry Potter's. Oh well, it would have been just as painful.
"The red liquid you see before you is the saliva from the Bolivian Giant Nuclear-Warhead-Ended Skrewt," continued Slughorn. Slughorn was a very fat, old, and bald man, with a white mustache that gave him the appearance of a walrus. "If you open your book to page 342, you will find the recipe."
Harry opened his edition of the potions textbook to page 342. As everybody else struggled trying to make a potion that was supposed to be green, Harry followed the corrected instructions written in his textbook by the Half-Blood Prince. Harry's potion was the only one to come out right. This Half-Blood Prince seemed pretty cool. Harry wondered what this Prince's real name could be. He only hoped he didn't have a really stupid name, like Severus Snape. That would be lame, Harry thought. But Harry was sure that someone as cool as the Half-Blood Prince would never grow up to become as lame as Snape.
After Potions, Harry had a break. It was raining now, so Harry and Ron agreed to take their break in the Great Hall. Hermione wanted to spend it in the library, but was convinced by the other two to go to the Great Hall. On their way there, they encountered Professor Dumbledore. In the dark of the corridor, Dumbledore's twinking eyes seemed like Christmas tree lights.
"Harry, I need a word with you in my office."
"What about?"
"Something very important. I'll tell you when we get there. Tell your friends goodbye."
This pissed Harry off. "They're coming too, or I'm not going," was his response.
"Very well," said the old man. He adjusted his half-moon spectacles. "This concerns them, as well."
Dumbledore's office was still filled with various, and probably useless gadgets, which he was always collecting. They were piled up everywhere. Some of the fragments of things that Harry broke after Dumbledore got Sirius killed were still lying around. The walls were clear of all former headmaster portraits.
"Hey, there's no paintings of dead headmasters," observed Ron.
"Colin Creevey is helping me to get all the portraits in the castle re-enchanted."
"Okay," said Harry, "so let's get down to it. What do you want with us?"
Professor Dumbledore sat in his chair. He surveyed Harry, Ron, and Hermione, with twinkling eyes, as though he wasn't sure they were ready to hear what he was going to tell them. He swiveled around in his chair, and when he faced Harry again, he was holding the Pensieve, which he placed on the desk. He motioned for Harry to dip his head into the stone basin.
Harry bowed until his face touched the silver surface. He fell into the Pensieve, and landed right in front of a young, hairy version of Professor Slughorn. He heard someone speaking behind him, saying "Sir, I wanted to ask you something." Harry spun arround and saw that Lord Voldemort as a teenager was the speaker. Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore eached dropped in beside Harry at this point.
"Ask away, then, m'boy. Ask away."
"Sir, I wondered what you know about... about Horcruxes."
Suddenly, a white fog filled the room, and through the fog, Harry could hear Slughorn speaking loudly, as though through an amplifier. He said, "I don't know anything about Horcruxes, you filthy hellspawn, and I wouldn't tell you if I did! Now get out of here at once and don't let me catch you mentioning them again!"
"Well, that's that," said Dumbledore stupidly beside Harry. "Time to go."
And Harry's feet left the floor, and he landed momentarily on the rug in front of Dumbledore's desk. He then saw Ron, followed by Hermione, being thrown feet-first from the Pensieve. Finally, Dumbledore emerged. His eyes twinkled like a homing beacon.
"As you can see," said Dumbledore, "this memory has been tampered with."
"Tampered with?" said Harry. "You mean that white fog wasn't originally there? I thought that was what you wanted to show me! That looks like some wicked dark magic!"
"Harry, don't be daft," said Hermione. "Obviously, there's something that Slughorn doesn't want us to know!"
"Bloody hell!" said Ron.
"The original memory is still there, underneath the fog," said Dumbledore, "and the men you encountered yesterday believe that they can repair the memory so that we may see the entire thing."
"You mean you're going to trust those dark wizards who tried to kidnap me?" Harry asked incredulously. "Now look who's being daft, Hermione!"
"Harry," protested Hermione, "you have to trust Dumbledore!"
"But he's an oaf!" said Harry, not caring that Dumbledore was right next to him. "He'd give Voldemort himself a second chance if he asked for one!"
"I'm a lot smarter than you, Harry." Harry felt a twinge of rage, being just smart enough to realize that Dumbledore was in effect calling him stupid. "Don't you forget that I am a Legilimens. Using Legilimency, I was able to discern that the men aren't wizards after all."
"What?" Hermione said. "But how can Muggles penetrate Hogwarts' magical protections?"
"These Muggles appear to be in possession of extremely advanced technomancy."
"Technology," Harry corrected.
"Whatever. They have instruments that can perform many different kinds of magic. They accidentally removed every enchantment from this castle because the enchantments showed up as 'anomalies' on their devices."
"So how does this--" Harry started.
"I'm not finished, Harry," Dumbledore said, sharply, as the twinkle left his eyes breifly. "They believe that this is the Twenty-Fourth Century, and that something has happened to their headquarters, which they believe to be located in San Francisco. They also believe that this is San Francisco, and that this castle is on the site of their headquarters."
"So let's give them a map so they can tell the difference between England and America, and be done with it!" Harry said, in what sounded almost like a sneer.
"I have educated them," continued Dumbledore, as though Harry had not spoken, "about Lord Voldemort, and they are currently under the impression that he is responsible for hiding their headquarters. Thus, they have invited you and me to their ship for dinner tonight. While we are there, they will repair the memory."
"And while we're there, we can give them the map," said Harry.
"Yes, and we can give them the map," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling madly. "Meet me on the grounds in one hour, and bring your invisibility cloak."
"You can walk into Voldemort's trap by yourself, thanks, I plan on practicing for the Ravenclaw match next week."
"You can practice on the ship, my dear boy," said Dumbledore.
"I'm not your dear boy," muttered Harry.
"Harry, Dumbledore knows what he's talking about," said Hermione.
"Bloody hell!" said Ron.
"Well, you can go with him, Hermione," said Harry. "Ron, let's go practice, (you bloody well need it)." He muttered the last part.
"What was that, mate?" said Ron.
"I said, we'll bloody well beat them!" And with that, Ron and Harry went to the Common Room to get their brooms.
Half an hour later, Harry and Ron were on the Quidditch field with their broomsticks and a quaffle. Harry got six shots in a row past Ron.
"You know, Ron, you could try actually guarding the hoops," said Harry.
"Bloody hell, Harry! I bloody well am guarding them!"
At that moment, Harry heard a sound like several crystal glasses chiming. He turned to look, but began to feel light-headed. The field seemed to melt away, and in its place, there was an enclosed, excessively clean, brightly-lit room. Harry felt his legs straighten, and his feet met the floor. For a moment, Harry thought he was in Petunia's kitchen. Across the room, Data, Dumbledore, and Hermione were standing next to each other.
The rear wall of the room was emblazoned with a blue tapestry, which featured a field of stars in a circle, the phrase "USS Enterprise," and a serial number: NCC-1701-J.