Captain Archer had doubted whether he should supplement his Starlog, given all the things he had just discovered and experienced. For a while, he thought that maybe, he could leave out his experience in Hogwarts. Despite Dumbledore's kindness, he still has trouble trusting his…people. But here he is, petting Porthos and dictating to the computer everything that just happened.
He heard the door ring. "Computer, pause. Come in."
Lieutenant Reed entered the Captain's quarters, looking positively dejected.
"Captain, the Xindi biosigns in Hogwarts are gone." Reed reported, looking dutiful for a while, "At least since we brought Mr. Potter aboard."
"Why haven't I been told before?" Archer scowled.
"We've been busy." Malcolm explained. He gave the Captain an appraising look.
"Right." nodded Archer. He cast Malcolm an appraising look. "Is there something else? You look disturbed."
"Actually, yes." Malcolm swallowed.
Silence. Jonathan stared at his Tactical Officer, waiting for his next words.
"I was hoping that this would be between just the two of us, Captain." Malcolm muttered, still standing in attention. He gathered his breath and exhaled slowly. "I thought you'd be the only one I can trust, at least since our talk back in the Romulan minefield."
Archer could remember that vividly, their conversation back in the minefield, where he had learned a great deal about Malcolm-his fear of water, his heritage, about all that.
"Go ahead," muttered Archer, who expressed curiosity and concern.
There was a great deal of silence before Malcolm finally spoke again. "About Mr. Potter's school, I, I actually have received owl mail when I was eleven."
Archer kept his curiosity, "So you really went to Hogwarts? It's no surprise Starfleet showed no record of it."
"No, sir, I did not go to Hogwarts."
Pause. "Go on,"
More silence, "My folks would not believe that such a school exists, Captain. But since I really wanted to go, they gave me a chance. We went to the Ministry of Education, to check whether this school was in the database. There was none.
"Perhaps the school was abroad. And so we went all over Europe, and soon all over the world. Still no Hogwarts. I wanted to believe that there is such a school, Captain. I really did. Until one day, my folks went to me, and told me, 'Malcolm, you've got to accept the chance that this Hogwarts doesn't exist.' I remember that day-the day before my birthday. I've never been so angry and sad in my life."
Malcolm failed suppressing a teardrop, which he immediately wiped. He stood on attention again. Jonathan could not take his eyes off him.
"For seven years, I believed that Hogwarts existed." Malcolm swallowed. "Until I joined Starfleet. All the training I got there, I suppose, was enough (chuckles) 'witchcraft and wizardry' for me to last a lifetime."
Silence enveloped the Captain's quarters for a long, long moment. Archer stared long and hard at Malcolm, who felt a great deal relieved after pouring out this revelation.
"That is all, sir." Malcolm blinked, determined not to shed another tear.
Archer walked across his Tactical Officer. "So you're…telling me that if you have studied in Hogwarts," The Captain spoke slowly and carefully, "You would have learned a great deal? You would have been a wizard?"
"If I have received my education in Hogwarts," Malcolm shook out the sorrow and then stood proudly, smiling at the Captain, "Then I would not have gone to Starfleet, let alone aboard Enterprise. If I had become a wizard, then I would not be among the ones fighting the Xindi alongside you, Captain."
Archer chuckled.
"So I have been wondering if…" Malcolm stuttered, "If I am the only one aboard Enterprise, Captain, if you catch my drift."
The Captain gave him a scowl. "You're the only one revealed so far. "Malcolm sighed. "Aren't you…happy that you're finally getting a chance to learn some magic spells?"
"I am not happy, Captain, to be honest. My place is here, on Enterprise, in our mission. I cannot bear to think that I'm missing all the action while I am simply down there, learning…magic. Perhaps if you just send someone else. You need a Tactical Officer, Captain."
Archer shook his head heavily, "Malcolm, you're my Tactical Officer, of course I need you right here on Enterprise. But right now," Archer held Malcolm's shoulders and looked at him in the eyes. "I need you down there, learn as much as you can. Can you do that for me?"
Malcolm hung his head, briefly. Finally he replied weakly. "Understood." Then he headed for the door.
"There's a bright side to all of this." Archer smiled. Malcolm looked back at him.
"What is it, sir?"
"Just imagine that it's like meeting new species, Malcolm." Jonathan mused. "And who knows, when this mission is over, when we get home, you could use a little catching up."
Malcolm only gave a shy smile as he left the room.
Though Harry had missed a great deal of schoolwork, he was not in the least remorseful. Last night, the three of them served detention with Professor McGonagall for being past curfew-a minor offense, at least with her. Harry had also been given one week's detention for skiving classes, also by Professor McGonagall, but all she made him do is catch up with his lessons inside her office. McGonagall thought, happy she may have been to see him back, that if she would "punish" them herself, Professor Umbridge would not touch them.
Ron and Hermione had been filling him in with everything that has happened back in Hogwarts and in Hogsmeade, including the plan that they'd do some Defense Against the Dark Arts classes on their own.
"And since you've already been "rescued," Ron and I reckoned that you'd be teaching us, along with a couple of people." Hermione finally concluded in a singsong voice.
"A couple of people?" Harry stared at the list Hermione handed to him incredulously, "A couple of people?"
Ron continued eating his Yorkshire pudding.
Hermione untied the Daily Prophet from an owl and paid him a Knut, and chuckled. "Well, let's say the idea's quite popular, you know."
Harry scowled at Hermione. There was a silence for a long moment, because Hermione buried herself in the Daily Prophet's pages.
"So, mate, how's Enterprise?" Ron leaned to Harry after swallowing some of the pudding. "You looked like you were happy to be kidnapped by those big guys."
Harry continued scribbling his Arithmacy essay. "Well, they're Muggles." At the instant, he remembered Lieutenant Reed, whom he felt so much concern.
"We know that." Ron said instinctively, in whispers. "But how did they find out about our world?"
"They kind of have figured it out." Harry answered minimally, avoiding Ron's gaze.
"So they kidnapped you, so you can take them to Professor Dumbledore?" Ron asked.
"No, it was my idea." Harry whispered back.
At the instant Ron and Harry heard Hermione gasp. "This is bad, Harry, very bad!"
Hermione shoved the newspaper to Harry and Ron, turned to the page with the column Hermione kept pointing at them with her finger.
POTTER, WEASLEY, GRANGER
SEEN WITH SUSPECTED VIGILANTES.
"What makes them think Captain's a vigilante?" Harry protested.
"Aren't they?" Hermione asked.
"No, they-" Harry stammered, "Look, they're looking for some people, people who've made friends with Voldemort, and they've been attacked by Voldemort as well."
"Wait, let's read it." Ron pointed out.
"Fifth-year Hogwarts students namely Harry Potter aka The-Boy-Who-Lived, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger were reportedly seen with three suspected vigilantes in The Three Broomsticks, a popular pub in Hogsmeade village, last three nights ago, October 23rd.
" 'I've never seen these folks before, and they say they've never been to Hogsmeade before.' said Madam Rosemerta, owner of the Three Broomsticks, 'They've been traveling, they says, but I ain't seen no broomstick. Must be Muggle transport they takin', because they're all in Muggle clothes.'
"According to Madam Rosemerta, they have introduced themselves as Jonathan Archer, Malcolm Reed, and Tanya Peters. The Three Broomsticks' owner also recounted that Mr. Archer and Ms. Peters have a strong American accent.
"Over the last two months, there has been an attack in Hogsmeade village involving former Death Eaters and the vigilantes. The Ministry has counted twelve dead bodies, all belonging to the former group. One witness (who do not wish to reveal their name), however, contest the account of Madam Rosemerta, on account that they have seen Mr. Reed before.
" 'The little man's been here before, only, he was with someone else. They were many, and three of them seems to hide big bulky things under their jackets. They've slipped into the dark, then they started firing hexes and jinxes at the hillside.'
"Lieutenant Reed!" Harry gasped.
"The Ministry insider gathers that these vigilantes might be in league with Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.
"The Department of Magic in the United States, however, denies their existence of the Mr. Archer and the Ms. Peters. They have, however, agreed to cooperate with the Ministry of Magic in identifying and locating them.
"The account as to the purpose of Mr. Archer, Mr. Reed, and Ms. Peters' visit in Hogsmeade village is still up to speculation."
"So it really was them." Hermione concluded.
"Twelve less Death Eaters, at least." Harry added.
"But Voldemort's recruiting more." Hermione protested.
"Great." Ron complained. They've placed the Daily Prophet before them. "They did not even interview us."
Harry and Hermione looked around them. Somehow they're going to have a feeling that some students might have already read the same article in question.
As was canon, Harry felt happier for the rest of the weekend than he had done all term. He and Ron spent much of Sunday catching up with all their homework again, and although this could hardly be called fun, the last burst of autumn sunshine persisted, so rather than sitting hunched over tables in the common room they took their work outside and lounged in the shade of a large beech tree on the edge of the lake. Hermione, who of course was up to date with all her work, brought more wool outside with her and bewitched her knitting needles so that they flashed and clicked in midair beside her, producing more hats and scarves.
He and the people whose names are in the paper, they have been approaching him everywhere in Hogwarts, asking him loads of questions. "When's the next meeting? When can we get started?" Angelina Johnson came up to him once, telling him and Hermione that whatever they're planning, she would greatly appreciate it if it wouldn't conflict with their Quidditch practice.
Knowing they were doing something to resist Umbridge and the Ministry, and that he was a key part of the rebellion, gave Harry a feeling of immense satisfaction. He kept reliving Saturdays meeting in his mind: all those people, coming to him to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts… and the looks on their faces as they had heard some of the things he had done… and Cho praising his performance in the Triwizard Tournament – The knowledge that all those people did not think him a lying weirdo, but someone to be admired, buoyed him up so much that he was still cheerful on Monday morning, despite the imminent prospect of all his least favorite classes.
Now one Monday morning, he and Ron went down their dormitory, discussing Angelina Johnson's idea of them working on the Sloth Grip Roll for tonight's Quidditch practice, and not until they were halfway across the sunlit common room did they notice the addition to the room that had already attracted the attention of a small group of people.
A large sign had been affixed to the Gryffindor noticeboard; so large it covered everything else on it - the lists of secondhand spellbooks for sale, the regular reminders of school rules from Argus Filch, the Quidditch team training timetable, the offers to barter certain Chocolate Frog Cards for others, the Weasleys' latest advertisement for testers, the dates of the Hogsmeade weekends and the lost and found notices. The new sign was printed in large black letters and there was a highly official-looking seal at the bottom beside a neat and curly signature.
BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
All student organizations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded.
An organization, society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.
Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).
No student organization, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.
Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organization, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.
Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor
Harry and Ron read the notice over the heads of some anxious-looking second-years.
"Does this mean they're going to shut down the Gobstones Club?" one of them asked his friend.
"I reckon you'll be okay with Gobstones," Ron said darkly, making the second-year jump. "I don't think we're going to be as lucky, though, do you?" he asked Harry as the second-years hurried away.
Harry was reading the notice through again. The happiness that had filled him since he came back from Enterprise was gone. His insides were pulsing with rage.
"This isn't a coincidence." Harry clenched his teeth, and looked at his fist. "She knows."
"She can't have." Ron looked darkly.
Something inside Harry's coat chirped that made Ron look right at it. Harry immediately pulled it out. It was small, rectangular, and grey, and on it embossed NX-01 Enterprise.
"Captain!" Harry opened the communicator and whispered. He gave Ron an inviting look. Ron leaned to him and listened.
"How are you guys holding up?" Archer's voice creaked through the communicator.
"We're okay." Harry
"You seem in a hurry."
"Captain, there is something." Harry said in a nervous voice; still looking at the new notice. He and Ron stepped off the bulletin board and into a corner. "We can't meet in Hogsmeade anymore."
"Is there a problem?"
"Yes, Captain." Harry continued, "The Ministry of Magic, our government, they're, they're looking for you."
There is a pause. Archer, in his Captain's chair, spoke again. "Understood. Can you contact Professor Dumbledore?"
"We can try, but why?"
"He promised that he'd contact us as soon as possible." Archer scowled. "Perhaps you could help us remind him."
"Oh, I'm not sure, Captain. He's been very scarce." Harry lamented. "He's not getting out of his office. He's even changed the password this morning. And Umbridge, she's-"
Harry trailed off. Terrible Umbridge may be, he didn't want to inconvenience the Captain of their petty school problems.
"Listen," Harry quickly changed the topic. "We'd been looking forward to see someone named Sirius Black-he's also someone from the Order, and he really misses us. If we can't reach Dumbledore, then we'll reach him."
"When can this Sirius Black contact you?"
"I don't know." Harry replied. "The Ministry might've been reading our letters."
"I see." Archer muttered, still frowning. "You mentioned someone named Umbridge. Is she-"
"Yes, Captain. The Professor Umbridge." Harry said darkly. "Anyway, we'll tell Sirius. We know how much this means to you, sir."
"Thanks. Hang on tight, all right?"
"Yeah."
"Archer out."