What surprised him wasn't the fact that he was still alive or that he was breathing air that seemed to be filling his lungs adequately, but that he was looking at stone--smooth, gray stone. <i>What the fuck?</i>

"Hello. Who are you?"

Leonard raised his head saw that he was in amidst chairs. And tables. He rose from the crouch to face a large, trembling man wearing...well, he wasn't sure what the man with the bulbous nose and squinty eyes was wearing (<i>Is that a mortar board??</i>), but he was also holding slender stick in his hand. "Where the hell am I?" Leonard said, standing to his full height.

"Who are you?" the man demanded again, brandishing the stick in front of him.

"Dr. Leonard McCoy. And I repeat, where am I?"

"What do you mean 'where are you'? You're at Hogwarts, of course."

"Hogwarts--what the hell is a Hogwarts?"

"It's a school."

Leonard looked at the surroundings and somehow, he just could not process the meaning of a man wearing a black academic gown, a black board, candles and oil lamps, and jars and jars filled with floating stuff. "Jesus Christ! I've been dropped into the middle of a goddamn Dickens novel."

"Well, no. It's not Dickens, anyway," the man replied. "You are dressed very strangely..."

Leonard choked back a laugh. "I could say the same thing about you." He looked around again. "What is this place?"

"This? This is the potions classroom. I am Professor Horace Slughorn, Potions master at Ho

The man stood a little taller