Oh, Boy! I'm a Wizard!

Disclaimer: In addition to the character and situations from the Harry Potter series, this story is based on characters and situations from Quantum Leap, created and owned by Donald P. Bellisario , etc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter Three

The next two days were quiet; Sam studied the materials for Harry's second week of exams. He had Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy, Divination, and History of Magic. At least Sam didn't have to do more than glance at the Astronomy text, but he actually had to learn the rest of the material. It was a familiar feeling, and an enjoyable one. Al would pop in and tell him Ziggy's latest guess, but without any real data they really were just guesses. From what Al said, while Sam concentrated on studying, Al was explaining security and "need to know" to Harry. He also seemed to be telling Harry stories about his life; Sam had the feeling that Al looked at Harry as someone he'd like to mentor.

The quiet continued through the exams. Sam was beginning to wonder if this Leap weren't to give him a break, one in an environment that he'd always found comfortable: school. Ron and Hermione were both giving him funny looks; he was spending more time studying than even Hermione managed. He couldn't bear to cut back; Harry might be an indifferent student, but he was enjoying the material. Goblin rebellions, thestrals, Draught of Living Death--it was all new material, and Sam was having a blast!

He knew the peace wouldn't last forever and he was right. The calm broke Wednesday night, during the Astronomy practical. Al was watching Sam happily filling in his star chart when, over an hour into the exam, he heard a distant knock, followed by muffled barking. It appeared that Hagrid, the massively large man who taught Care of Magical Creatures, had company. Blocking out the distraction, Sam went back to work.

After several minutes, a roar came from Hagrid's cabin. Sam, along with several other people, tried to see what was going on. Professor Tofty, one of the proctors, said, "Try and concentrate, now, boys and girls." Sam went back to work again.

Then, there was a loud BANG from the grounds. Hagrid had burst out of his cabin and was being fired upon by the six people Sam had seen earlier; however, the spells seemed to bounce right off of him. When Hagrid's dog was hit by one spell, and fell to the ground, Hagrid picked the man who'd hit his dog off the ground and threw him. The man flew for what looked to be ten feet or so and didn't get up.

Meanwhile, back on the Tower, none of the students were paying attention to their exams any more. They were watching the fight.

Someone, an adult, came out of the castle and moved toward the fight. "How dare you!" Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration Professor, shouted. "How dare you Leave him alone! Alone, I say! On what grounds are you attacking him? He has done nothing, nothing to warrant such--"

Four of the combatants fired red spells at her. For a moment, she looked luminous, and then she was lifted right off her feet, landed hard on her back and stopped moving.

Several of the girls in the Tower screamed, while even Professor Tofty seemed to have forgotten the exam.

"COWARDS!" Hagrid bellowed. "RUDDY COWARDS! HAVE SOME O' THAT--AN' THAT--!" He took two swipes at his closest attackers and appeared to have knocked them out. He doubled over and, a moment later, stood with what Sam realized was his dog draped over his shoulders. He turned and began to run toward the distant gates, with Professor Umbridge, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, acting headmistress and, as Al would describe her, all-around nozzle, in pursuit.

After a long moment of silence, Professor Tofty said, "Um . . . five minutes to go, everybody . . ." Al gave Sam a significant look and walked out of the Imaging Chamber.

Sam was grateful that he'd been almost finished; there was no way he could concentrate on finishing the star chart now. Everyone else seemed to be in the same boat; as soon as Professor Tofty called the end of the exam, they all stored their telescopes quickly and went back to the dorms, talking excitedly all the while. Just as they got to the dorms, Al walked in and jerked his head. Once he got into the bathroom, Sam locked the door and looked at Al.

"What happened? And what should I have been doing?" he demanded of Al.

Al shrugged, looking frustrated. "We don't know. Ziggy's still trying to get records, but the Ministry of Magic people won't even admit they exist, much less their records, much less let us have them. What looks like happened is that Umbridge bitch." For once, Sam had no intention of scolding Al for his language, although it was rather unkind to the dogs. "She hates part-humans, Hagrid's half-giant, and she's probably been trying to get him fired for months. More than that, we just don't know."

Sam sighed with frustration and returned to the dorm. Everyone was talking about what had happened, and they were all worried about Professor McGonagall. It was after four before Sam finally got to bed. He slept badly and woke three hours later, feeling the lack of sleep, but spent the morning as he'd planned, going over notes one last time.

The exam started at two, with Professor Marchbanks as the proctor. The exam was hard, not because the material was so difficult, but because the names and dates kept blurring together. The room was warm and stuffy, and the highlights from Parvati Patil's hair in front of him kept mesmerizing him. As the other students wrote and wrote, Sam closed his eyes to try to see the notes he'd just read . . .

He was walking along a cool, dark corridor again, walking with a firm and purposeful stride, sometimes breaking into a run. Somehow, he knew that he was in the lower levels of the Department of Mysteries, and that he'd been here before. A black door swung open for him and he was in a circular room with many doors.

Straight across the stone floor and through the second door . . . patches of dancing light on the walls and floor and that odd mechanical clicking, but there was no time to explore, he had a terrible sense of urgency . . .

He jogged the last few feet to the third door, which swung open just as the others had . . .

He was in a cathedral-sized room full of shelves and glass spheres . . . When he reached number ninety-seven, he turned left and hurried along the aisle between two rows . . .

There was a shape on the floor at the very end, a dark shape moving as if it were hurt . . . Sam's stomach contracted with fear and excitement . . .

A voice issued from his own mouth, a high, cold voice empty of any human kindness. "Take it for me . . . Lift it down, now . . . I cannot touch it . . . but you can . . ."

The shape upon the floor shifted. Sam saw a long-fingered white hand clutching a wand rise on the end of his own arm . . . heard the high, cold voice say, "Crucio!"

The man on the floor let out a scream of pain, attempted to stand but fell back, writhing. Sam was laughing. He raised his wand, the curse lifted, and the figure groaned and became motionless.

"Lord Voldemort is waiting . . ."

Very slowly, his arms trembling, the man on the ground raised his shoulders a few inches and lifted his head. His face was bloodstained and gaunt, twisted in pain yet rigid in defiance . . .

"You'll have to kill me," whispered Sirius Black.

"Undoubtedly I shall in the end," said the cold voice. "But you will fetch it for me first, Black . . . You think you have felt pain thus far? Think again . . . We have hours ahead of us and nobody to hear you scream . . ."

But somebody did scream as Voldemort lowered his wand again; somebody yelled and fell sideways off a hot desk onto the cold stone floor. Sam hit the ground and woke, still yelling, his head on fire, as the Great Hall erupted around him.

It took Sam a while to convince Professor Tofty that he was all right, that he'd essentially finished the exam and that he just needed to be left alone to calm himself down. Fortunately for his nerves, Professor Tofty was mostly taking Sam at his word and left him alone without too much trouble.

Once the proctor was gone, Sam ran for the infirmary, where they'd taken Professor McGonagall. Al had mentioned that Harry had visions; Sam suspected that they'd exchanged enough of their minds that now Sam was getting the visions. It didn't answer the question of why Harry wasn't trying harder to stop them--they hurt!--but Sam would worry about that later. For now, he needed to speak with a member of the Order that could check on Black.

Sam was halfway to the infirmary when he heard the sound of the Imaging Chamber door. He was surprised when he heard Al say, "Hey, calm down!"

He stopped, checking quickly for other students. Fortunately, they all seemed to be in classes. "Al, Black, he's being tortured, I have to help him . . ."

"No, you don't," Al said quietly. His expression was sad. "That's what happened the first time around." Before Sam could ask, Al said, "We finally got the records. One big data dump--Ziggy's still trying to sort through everything--but here's what we know." He glanced down at his handlink. "Harry got a vision of Sirius, his godfather, being tortured. He couldn't get hold of anybody--didn't think of Snape until it was too late--and took off for the Ministry. Except it was all a setup. Voldemort had planted the vision in his head--one of the reasons the kid was supposed to be blocking him out--and Harry believed it."

Al shook his head. "In a lot of ways, it worked to the Order's advantage. The government had to admit that Voldemort was back and they put a bunch of his Death Eaters in jail. Unfortunately, Black was killed."

"So, we need to get there," Sam said, "to save him."

"No!" Al shouted. "You're not listening! Black isn't being tortured. He's at Grimmauld Place, treating an injured hippo . . ." Al looked at the handlink and hit it. "Hippogriff. This place is so weird. He dies trying to get Harry and his buddies away from the Death Eaters. Stupid death, too; he falls through . . ." Al glared at the handlink. "He falls through a veil? Whatever. If you go to the Ministry, we'll just be repeating history. Stay put!"

Sam thought about it, but he couldn't stand relying on records. Sometimes, they were wrong. "Can you check on him?"

Al nodded. "That I can do. Gooshie, center me on Sirius Black." He disappeared. Five minutes later, he reappeared. "He's fine. He's sitting in a bedroom treating the hippogriff, just like I told you. And am I glad I'm not there. Wow!"

Sam took several deep breaths until he was able to calm down. "Shouldn't I still be trying to rescue him? Harry wouldn't know that Black was all right, would he?"

"Why?" Al shrugged. "So he didn't take the bait. Or he decided he couldn't get enough help, so he didn't go. Nothing says the kid can't start thinking straight." Realizing that Sam still felt he should be doing something, he asked, "Where were you going?"

"To talk with McGonagall," Sam said. "She's a member of the Order; she'd be able to contact him."

"Good idea," Al said, looking at the handlink. Then he shook his head, "But it won't work. She's not a kid any more; they took her to the hospital because of all those Stunning Spells. She won't be back for days. What about Snape?"

"Of course," Sam said. He turned around and started making his way to the dungeons. Halfway there, the staircase he was on decided to go somewhere else. He spent the rest of the trip explaining the moving staircases to Al. It would have been better if he'd understood how they worked.

Once there, Sam started pounding on the door to Snape's office. The door opened abruptly, almost dumping Sam on the floor. "Excuse me, sir," he said, as politely as he could manage, "but I need for you to contact--"

"Not in the hall!" Al yelled at him as Snape grabbed his arm and yanked him into his office.

"Beckett or Potter?" Snape asked once he'd closed the door and cast several spells at it.

"Beckett," Sam answered. "Can I talk now?" When Snape nodded, Sam said, "You have to contact Headquarters. Voldemort sent Harry a vision that I got, don't ask me how, that he's torturing Sirius Black in the Department of Mysteries. Al says he's fine at Headquarters, but Harry wouldn't know that and would go after him. So, I have to unless I'm sure he's all right. Can you?"

Snape looked at him intently for several minutes. When he spoke, it was reluctant. "Admiral Calavicci has confirmed that Black is at Headquarters?"

Sam nodded as Al said, "He's taking care of Buckbeak," which Sam repeated.

Snape rolled his eyes. "How wonderful. We have a problem. Fortunately, whatever force is moving you around has seen fit to leave you here for the moment. I wouldn't fancy trying to explain this to Potter."

Moving to sit behind his desk, Snape gestured that Sam should sit in the student's desk before him. Tracing his lips with his finger, he said, "Are you aware that I am the Order's spy?"

Sam nodded, although he hadn't been certain of it. Al said, "Yeah, regular James Bond you are."

A bit of red came into Snape's cheeks when Sam repeated the comment. Looking a little embarrassed he said, "I will deny this if you ever tell anyone else, but . . . I loved those movies, and the books. I always wanted to be 007. License to kill," he said, with a sneer. "Childishness."

After remaining silent for a moment, he shook his head. "I have not been told his plans, but I have been advised to facilitate Potter's rush to the Ministry. I wasn't told how he was to be lured there, but I assume this is it. I somehow doubt you were careful not to be seen coming down here. So, I should be encouraging you to go, most likely by telling you to stay put no matter what."

Al spoke up. "Too bad no one at Headquarters can see me. He could send you as Harry to the Ministry using reverse psychology and I could sound the alarm." Sam repeated the comment.

Snape's eyes widened for a moment, then he smiled slyly. "Lupin can see him," he said. "One of the few advantages of having a werewolf in the Order. I believe he's at Headquarters and, if he isn't, I could send him there. The question to answer is how would you get there."

"Werewolves are real!" Sam shouted, while Al groaned, "No wonder he can see me."

"Yes," Snape said, looking sour, "all too real. You should try meeting up with one at the full moon, an experience I don't recommend. It does work to our advantage, so we might as well use it." Ignoring Sam, he got up and began pacing around the room, muttering. After a moment, he looked at Sam. "Potter appears to have an affinity with dangerous beasts, especially those Hagrid has introduced to him. Do you share it?"

Sam shrugged. "I do all right with animals," he said, "but I haven't had much exposure here. What dangerous animal are we talking about?" Sam was braced for something terrifying--like dragons.

"Before I answer that, can you ride a horse?" When Sam nodded, Snape continued, "Have you heard of thestrals?"

Sam nodded again, thinking of what he'd read of the creatures. They weren't the most frightening choice he could have been given. "How do I find them?"

"There is a herd of them living on the grounds. They're attracted to blood; bloody meat should work well. You can get that from the house-elves."

Sighing, Sam asked, "How do I get to the house-elves? And why would they give me anything?"

Snape started to answer, but got a considering look on his face. "The question will be whether or not they will see you as Potter. If they do, it will be simple; house-elves generally like him. You'd ask for--," he closed his eyes for a moment thinking. "I believe his name is Dobby. However, it's quite possible that they would see you as yourself, which is likely to cause problems."

Sam could feel the clock ticking. Black might not be in danger, but if he didn't move quickly enough, Snape would be. "I'll figure something out. To make this look real, I guess you should throw me out of your office and yell at me. Or I'll yell at you. Don't take too many points."

To Sam's surprise, Snape threw back his head and laughed. It was the first time Sam had seen him do anything that wasn't either coldly considered or in a temper. He realized with a shock that Snape couldn't be older than his late thirties, and he might be even younger than that. He resolved to ask Al what happened to Snape; he deserved a chance to live that wasn't as a spy.

Shaking his head, Snape said, "I wish you could stay. It's so much easier plotting with an adult who understands the purpose of cover."

Al grinned. "Tell him I'm working on it. And tell him that they should just tell him what's up; Harry understands duty."

Sam considered and repeated what Al had said. Snape nodded, sneering again. "Even I will grant that that idiot brat understands, and lives, duty. There's been more than once when it would have been easier if he didn't." Then he smirked. "I suspect Calavicci could say the same about you."

Sam didn't repeat Al's answering, "You betcha!", but he suspected Snape knew anyway.

He braced himself and nodded at the Potions teacher, who removed the spells and opened the door in one swift movement, yelling, "Get out of my office, Potter, before I take you to the Headmistress! Go! Now!" To punctuate the last scream, he picked up a jar of something nasty-looking and threw it at Sam.

Sam screamed in pretended fury, "It's just like you to betray Dumbledore! Think of all he's done for you!" The next jar was better aimed than the first. Sam decided they'd given Snape's cover enough validation and ran off.

Author's Note: There are several scenes in this chapter that are taken with little to no changes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling. American edition.