When Sam woke up, the first thing he saw was Al, looking furious. Looking around, Sam decided that, yes, he was in big trouble this time.
He was no longer in Snape's dungeon office. He appeared to be in a kitchen—one with no windows. He was tied to a chair and, in addition to Snape, who was still pointing his wand at Sam, there were two other men and a young woman looking at him. He looked around. "What happens next?" he asked, really hoping the answer wouldn't be, "Now, we have to kill you."
"We're waiting for Professor Dumbledore," one of the other men said. He was about the same age as Snape and the other man, with graying brown hair and shabby, well-patched robes. The other man had been handsome once, with black hair and gray eyes. The young woman had pink hair and a pretty, heart-shaped face. None of them were smiling.
"They can't hear me right now," Al said to Sam.
Before he could say anything more, the man who'd spoken before looked up at Al. "I don't think the others can see or hear you right now," the unnamed man and the woman both shook their heads while Snape sneered, "but I certainly can. And I should warn you, there are wards up all over this room to keep ghosts and poltergeists in it; you won't be leaving."
Al and Sam exchanged a look. Sam didn't think they were right. He hoped not. Deciding that it didn't matter, he didn't care if the others knew what Al wanted to tell him, he asked, "What happened?"
"After Snape knocked you out," Al answered, still looking angry, "he did something that brought you here. He yelled for Black, that's him," he pointed at the man who hadn't said anything yet, "and they tied you to the chair. Lupin, that’s the other man, and Tonks, that's the woman, were here and helped. Then Snape cast another spell at you that woke you up. Sam, they're really angry; I think Black, Lupin and Tonks all really like Harry."
"We do," Lupin said, "and you had better hope that you can return Harry to us undamaged and quickly."
Before he could say any more, there was a sound in the other room. A moment later, a tall man with a long, white beard and bright blue eyes behind half-moon glasses walked in. "I see what you mean, Severus. It's quite the enchantment. I find the placement of the one bit of white hair especially interesting."
Sam looked at Al, hoping he could answer the question. "Harry has a lightning-bolt shaped scar right where you have that tuft of white hair. He mentions it every time he looks in a mirror."
"Then you know where Harry is," Lupin said. At everyone's puzzled look, he repeated what Al had said.
"Hm, Severus, you said you had revealed this other person? Could you do so again? I think it would be easier if you did so."
Snape repeated the spell so that Al glowed bright blue again. The old man looked at Al, seeming to focus on his ribbons for several moments before he spoke again. "Admiral, I'm afraid I don't know your name, but I find it very difficult to believe that any man with the accolades you've received would be working against us. Especially one who has been kept as a prisoner of war, as you have been. Incidentally, I am Albus Dumbledore. This is Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Auror Nymphadora Tonks, and I believe you know Professor Severus Snape. Might we know your names?" His voice was pleasant, almost conversational, but there was a hint of steel underneath it.
Al looked impressed; Sam suspected it was Dumbledore's ability to read Al's uniform. Still, his voice was hard when he said, "Sam, name, rank and serial number. Nothing else. Dumbledore, you and yours are at war and, as long as you're holding my friend, I consider him a prisoner of war. And he's no more likely to break than I was."
"Headmaster," Snape began, but Dumbledore cut him off.
"The problem, Admiral, is that you have one of ours, Harry Potter, and we don't know what shape he is in, or even if he's still alive. If you could provide us believable assurances that he's well, we might be able to negotiate. Otherwise, there are ways of making a man talk that don't involve torture." He gave Snape a pleasant but firm look and then turned it on Black when he growled.
Al nodded. "Yeah, I thought we were going that direction. Gooshie, do you have the Imaging Chamber set up yet?" He listened for a minute, and shook his head. "Did you explain what we're going to do to him? Good. Do I have to go out?" He nodded again. "I'll be right back."
The Imaging Chamber door opened and Al walked out of it. Sam was relieved, but the others were in an uproar. Dumbledore raised his hand for quiet, which he got almost immediately. "What just happened?"
"I'm not sure, but I think you're about to see Harry," Sam said, hoping he was right.
A minute later, the Imaging Chamber door opened again and Al walked back in. "Ask your questions," he said. Since he wasn't glowing, Sam was pretty sure that only he and Lupin could see Al.
"Al, I can't see him. And I think the spell needs to be recast."
While Al shook his head and rolled his eyes, Snape cast the spell that lit Al so that the others could see him. Once Snape was done, he put his hand down on what was apparently Harry's shoulder. Harry came into view. He looked around the room in interest, a wide grin on his face, and said, "Wicked! H'lo everybody."
Black ran over to Harry, his arms wide, and found himself suddenly embracing himself when his arms went right through the hologram. He looked angry as he said, "Harry, where are you?"
"I'm somewhere in the United States," Harry said. "I'm not really here; neither's Al. We're, erm, we're in the future. This is Admiral Al Calavicci and that's Dr. Samuel Beckett." He looked uncomfortable, and then blurted out, "I didn't do anything this time! I was in the common room playing chess."
Lupin looked at Sam with a puzzled expression. "The playwright? What's going on?"
Sam looked over at Al. This sounded vaguely familiar, but he wasn't sure what that would mean.
Al said, "No, you don't write plays, too." Turning to the others, he said, "Sam's not related to the playwright; the name's a coincidence. Sam's a quantum physicist."
Dumbledore looked as if Al had explained a great deal. "Of course. I read about you not too long ago, Dr. Beckett. I always enjoy reading about the Nobel laureates; you belong to a fascinating fraternity. And thank you, Harry; I thought Admiral Calavicci looked familiar. I've followed your exploits, the ones that have made the newspapers here in Britain anyway, with a great deal of delight, Admiral. That doesn't explain Dr. Beckett's presence here, and looking just like Harry. Nor Harry's absence. I'm afraid that we truly do need that explanation." Dumbledore was smiling, his blue eyes bright, but he didn't look as if he would accept anything less than a full explanation.
Sam sighed, but before he could say anything, Al said, "I'll tell you as much as we know, as soon as you untie Sam."
Black and Snape began to argue. Although Sam was sure they'd claim they were debating the pluses and minuses of the situation, it sounded to him like they would argue over anything and everything. While their argument raged, Dumbledore winked at Lupin and Tonks, and waved his wand with a "Finite Incantatem". The ropes holding Sam to the chair fell away. Sam stood and stretched, trying to work the kinks out of his muscles.
When Black and Snape didn't stop arguing, seeming oblivious to Sam's freedom, Al shouted, "You two, shut up and sit down!" The years of command meant that the other two men had obeyed before they'd stopped to think about it. They both looked furious, but stayed put.
Dumbledore looked amused. "Apparently admirals get more immediate obedience than simple headmasters."
Black snorted. "As if you've ever been a simple headmaster. We're quiet; let's have that explanation."
"I'll do the explaining," Al said before Sam could start. "Sam developed a string theory of time." He pulled out a piece of string but, as soon as he took his hand off of Harry's shoulders, Harry disappeared. Before anyone could say anything, he said, "Hang onto me for a minute, kid; I need both hands for this." Harry appeared again almost immediately, his hand on Al's arm. Suiting actions to words, Al continued, "One end is your birth; the other your death. Tie the ends together and ball it up and every moment of your life touches every other out of order. Sam theorized that you could travel in time within your own lifetime. He put together this project to prove his theory."
"He intended on, what, borrowing other people?" Black didn't look very happy at that.
"No," Al said. "The first time he Leaped, it was too soon. We weren't ready and things went a little ka-ka. Instead of just observing the past, he has to change it. We're not sure how, but something else—God, Fate, Time, Whatever—is Leaping him now. When he Leaps somewhere, he has to put right what once went wrong before he Leaps." Al shrugged. "I don't understand it. When Sam gets home someday, I'm hoping he'll be able to figure it out."
"How long have you been doing this?" Sam couldn't read Dumbledore's expression. It seemed to be made up of horror and approval.
Al sighed. "Too long. Years. Too many years." Sam closed his eyes; it had been a very long time since he'd been home. He sometimes wondered if he'd ever make it back.
"Gryffindor," Snape said with a sneer.
The others laughed. "And of the best sort, I'd say," said Lupin, looking more relaxed.
"Just so," said Dumbledore. "What must you do here?"
Sam and Al exchanged looks. They weren't going to tell Harry their theory, but they couldn't get too far from the truth either. Before either of them could say anything, Snape said, "You can't mean that you think Potter needs to apologize to me! How important could that be?"
Harry's cheeks had turned bright red, but he looked at Snape with his head held high. "I hate to admit that I haven't, but both Al and Dr. Beckett are right; you deserve an apology from me." He glanced at Lupin and Black, but didn’t say anything to them. "I shouldn't have looked into your Pensieve; I just wanted to know what that room is. I'm sorry." He looked ready to start running at any second, but at least he looked sincere.
Snape's cheeks had gained a little color. "Apology accepted. If I were going to remove those memories, I'd put them somewhere much more secure than where a curious brat could get his hands on them."
Harry looked shocked. "You wanted me to see that memory!"
Snape shrugged. "No, but it was safer than preventing you from searching farther for the one you want. We're keeping it from you for a reason."
Al's handlink squawked. Al looked down at it and crowed, "That's done it, Sam. Percentage of, well, you know what, is down to 4.8 percent. Get ready to Leap!" When Sam clearly wasn't about to Leap, Al sagged. "I thought that was it. I'll put Ziggy back on it. I wish we could get hold of more records."
Tonks asked, "What do you mean?"
"Ziggy can't get any of the records on the kid while he's at Hogwarts, or on any of you. It's making things harder than usual."
"Ziggy's a computer," Harry said, stopping several people from asking questions. "She can only get records that are on a computer, or that can be scanned in. That's putting regular paper records through a thing that turns them into, well, whatever it is that Ziggy uses."
Dumbledore looked thoughtful, but stayed quiet. After a moment, he said, "Harry, are you comfortable? Do you have enough to eat? Are you warm enough? Is there anything you need?"
Harry grinned. "Mrs. Calavicci and Mrs. Weasley ought to exchange recipes; they're both great cooks." That got a laugh from everyone but Snape. "The temperature here gets a little, erm, unpredictable sometimes, but they'll get me whatever I need to be comfortable. And I don't think I could do much better than have a Nobel Prize winner with six doctorates taking my O.W.L.S." That got another laugh. For a minute, Sam thought even Snape would join in, but he got his face under control.
Dumbledore didn't even try not to laugh. "An embarrassment of riches indeed. When you've returned home, I'll have to arrange to have you retake whatever exams you've missed. Fortunately for Dr. Beckett, the only practical exams you have left are Potions and Astronomy, and I don't think he'll have too much difficulty with those. Very well. Severus, can you get Dr. Beckett back to the school without Dolores finding out about it?"
Snape nodded. "Fortunately, she leaves me alone most of the time." He seemed to think of something. "Beckett, if Dolores Umbridge, the current headmistress," the last word was spat out in distaste, "offers you something to drink, don't. She might decide to find an alternate source of Veritaserum."
Sam considered the word. "Truth serum?"
When Snape nodded, Al shuddered. "That stuff's scary." He got several puzzled looks. "There's Sam, supposedly an old geezer that everybody thinks is a little crazy, and he's giving truthful answers under sodium pentothal. Truthful answers for Sam Beckett." He shuddered again. "Not good."
Snape sneered, "Then he'd be well advised to stay away from her."
The meeting broke up shortly afterwards. Snape pulled a torn book from his robe and told Sam to grab it. It felt as if a hook grabbed Sam behind his navel; a few minutes later, he fell onto the floor of Snape's office. Snape sent him back to his dormitory, but warned him that he'd have to be careful not to be caught. It was after curfew and he didn't want to earn Harry yet another detention. Sam made it back to the dormitory with no further problems.