Disclaimer: Paramount owns the Voyager gang, J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. Neither of them would probably want to be associated with this.

Story Notes: If your household hasn't fallen under the spell of Harry Potter, this story probably won't do very much for you.
 

HARRY KIM AND THE GOBLET OF COFFEE
Harry Kim was an ordinary-enough looking ensign, even if he had held that rank longer than anyone else in history. He had died a number of times, of course, but that was to be expected when one was in Starfleet, where he had been told by the captain herself that "weird is part of the job." Fortunately, thanks to the EMH's skill with a dermal regenerator, none of Harry's fatal encounters, not even with You-Know-Who, had left him with any discernible scars.

On this morning aboard the good ship Voyager, whose turbolifts and Jefferies tubes never seemed to lead one to exactly the same place each time, Harry and his two close friends B'Elanna and Tom were sitting in the Mess Hall, trying to swallow Neelix's latest concoction. Neelix was the Voyager Morale Keeper, a position he had held for many years. Due to events in his mysterious past, Neelix wasn't a real member of Starfleet; in fact, he wasn't even much use as a tour guide anymore, but Janeway had created this position for him as a way of keeping him associated with Voyager. All of them were fond of the bushy-whiskered Talaxian, even if his affinity for culinary monstrosities such as leola root casserole were a little hard to take.

"All right, Harry?" Neelix asked now, eagerly watching them push their food around on their plates.

Harry manfully took a large mouthful, chewed and swallowed. "Just fine, Neelix," he said and smiled weakly. Neelix beamed and then hurried back to his kitchen where a large saucepan was erupting into flames.

"He's a nice guy," said Tom, "But one of these days we really should tell him that it'd do wonders for our morale if he'd let someone else do the cooking for a change."

"Now, Tom," scolded B'Elanna, "We can't do that. It'd hurt his feelings."

"Better his feelings than my stomach," returned Tom.

Harry quickly intervened before a full-scale quarrel could erupt. It never ceased to amaze him that these two, who clearly liked each other very much, could get into arguments so often and over such stupid things. "What's that you're reading?" he asked, gesturing to the large stack of padds that B'Elanna had balanced against her plate.

"I've been doing some research on transwarp," B'Elanna started to answer, "And it seems to me..." Harry and Tom soon lost interest in what she was saying. They weren't exactly lazy, but it bugged them sometimes the way B'Elanna spent all her time doing research when she wasn't mucking around in the engine room. But everyone knew that even though she had started out as a Maquis, she was quite the cleverest engineer on board. It was almost magical the way she had kept the ship running so smoothly, for so long, with no source of spare parts. The only thing more amazing was the way her department kept conjuring new shuttles out of seemingly thin air.

Just then something happened which made even B'Elanna put down her padd and take notice. Janeway had come in and was sitting down with her first officer, both of them engaged in an animated, if whispered conversation.

"What do you suppose that's all about?" asked Tom. "Those two have been spending an awful lot of time together lately."

"I'm sure it's just ordinary ship's business," said B'Elanna.

"I don't know for sure," said Harry, "But I overheard the Delaneys say something about a Talent Night Competition and a Goblet of Coffee."

"Oh, please, Harry," said Tom dismissively. "Since when are the twins a reliable source of information? And anyway, everyone knows that anything to do with Janeway eventually involves coffee."

As they continued to speculate, a shadow fell over them. Looking up, they saw the tall, spare figure of Tuvok, the Vulcan security chief. For some reason he was unable to explain, Tuvok always made Harry feel very nervous. He knew without a doubt that Tuvok didn't like him. This was no reflection on him personally---Tuvok didn't like anybody. But all Tuvok had to do was look at him and Harry was overcome with guilt.

"What's up, Tuvok?" Tom said pleasantly. Harry was envious. Maybe it was because Tom came from an old Starfleet family that he was able to treat Tuvok in such a casual manner.

"It would be prudent for you to cease your discussion," said Tuvok coldly, which was how he said everything.

"Why?" asked B'Elanna.

"All will be revealed in due time. In the meantime, your idle chatter will only serve to get you in trouble." And with that he stalked away.

But of course that just made the trio put their heads together and wonder all the more.

~*~

Harry was in charge of the bridge. Normally, that would have made him feel very good, but right now that wasn't the case. He glanced around once more. Everybody else was down in Engineering at a very important meeting. Harry didn't understand why it wasn't held in the briefing room, as usual. He also didn't understand why he'd been excluded. He thought maybe it was somehow limited to those with a rank of lieutenant and higher---he still didn't get why the captain had recently given Tom back his pip (like that goofball had really done something to deserve it)---but Neelix's presence put that idea to rest. So here was, out of the loop and all alone, except for the other non-descript crewmen, and getting more annoyed by the minute.

All of a sudden, a low-pitched humming began. Individual consoles started lighting up on their own, as if by magic. Harry groaned. This would happen while he was in charge, wouldn't it? He toyed with the idea of trying to deal with it on his own, but he knew that if something went wrong, the captain would be seriously annoyed. He hit his comm badge. "Bridge to Captain Janeway."

"What is it, Harry? We're a little busy down here at the moment."

"Sorry to bother you, captain, but someone's trying to access the computer."

"Well, don't let them."

"I think they're trying to communicate," Harry said, as a greenish glow began to fill the room and the main viewscreen sputtered to life. Images swam in the murky haze, no clearer than a crystal ball. Suddenly, they gelled into a coherent whole. Harry gulped. "Uh, captain, I think it's for you."

Harry stared in terrified fascination at the image now filling the entire screen. It was the Borg Queen, She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He had heard she spent most of her time as a disembodied head, but at the moment it was attached to a shapely, if wholly artificial body. Harry was glad she didn't seem to be the type to take notice of, let alone talk to underlings. Those silvery eyes moved in his direction and she fixed her gaze on him. He shivered.

The turbolift doors opened and Janeway and Chakotay practically flew onto the bridge. They had obviously wasted no time in getting there. In the corner of his mind Harry idly wondered just how they managed to traverse so many decks so quickly. He listened to Janeway and the Queen exchange small talk, which was chilling in its own way.

Finally they got down to business. "Pay attention to your own ship and crew, Janeway, and stay out of matters which do not concern you."

Right. As if. Sure enough, Janeway responded, "I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

"You'd better, if you know what's good for you." The Queen let loose with an evil laugh. Then, just as she was fading away, she said, "See you later, Harry."

Harry gulped. He had the sneaking suspicion he was going to die again.

~*~

B'Elanna and Tom listened with interest to the latest information, slightly envious that Harry had been on the spot and thus a witness to the proceedings between Janeway and the Queen. He bit back the comment that he'd have rather been down in Engineering instead.

Tom decided to play devil's advocate. "What makes this confrontation with the Borg different from any others we've had previously?"

"And do you think it's somehow connected to the latest Talent Night Competition?" put in an anonymous eavesdropper at the next table. "Those things can be pretty grueling, for the audience as well as the participants." Harry, B'Elanna and Tom ignored this interruption.

"I don't know," B'Elanna said slowly. "The Borg have changed somehow, lost their touch. They just don't seem as intimidating as they used to."

"That's because familiarity breeds contempt," Tom said reasonably. "I mean, you can only keep battling evil incarnate so many times without it getting kind of old."

"You wouldn't say that if you'd been there," Harry said. "The Queen looked awfully---" He broke off as he watched Seven of Nine enter the room. She was wearing one of her usual skin-tight outfits. He tried to keep from staring.

"Well, we all know the Borg have had your number for a while now," said Tom with an evil grin. "Or at least one ex-Borg certainly does."

B'Elanna rolled her eyes.

"What I mean," said Harry lamely, "Is that I don't think we should underestimate the Borg."

"Sound advice," said Chakotay. The others jumped. They had been so engrossed in their conversation they hadn't heard his approach. "Captain Janeway wants to see you in her Ready Room, Mr. Kim."

Harry got that sinking feeling in his stomach again.

~*~

"Have a seat, Harry," said the captain as she gestured toward a chair in front of her desk.

Harry sat, trying to control his nervousness. He looked around the Ready Room. He'd only been invited inside once or twice before, and usually when he and Tom had gotten themselves in trouble. Harry didn't like it when the captain was angry with him. He admired Janeway very much. In fact, it was his dearest wish to one day be a powerful Starfleet captain, just like her. That is, if he ever was promoted past the rank of ensign.

He tried not to think about that, and focused once again on the trappings of power in front of him. Everyone knew what an important person Janeway was; even the Borg Queen, who was quite disdainful of humans, had a healthy dose of respect for Voyager's captain. It appeared that Janeway was determined to reinforce that lesson once more.

Janeway outlined her plan and then told him exactly what she expected of him. "You are not to try to engage the Borg on your own, do you understand?" Janeway said sternly. "I don't want  any one-man heroics."

"That's the captain's job," said Chakotay helpfully.

Janeway acted as if she hadn't heard. "You are there simply to provide a distraction, and possibly backup."

Harry said nervously, "I understand, Captain. But, if you don't mind my asking, how are you going to defeat the Borg Queen? She's got billions of drones under her spell, ready to do her bidding, and incredibly powerful armaments and weapons. Even if you could somehow neutralize all that, how can you possibly be successful?"

Janeway smiled. She got up and went to the replicator. "It's time to show you our secret weapon." At her touch, a wooden goblet appeared. Wisps of steam rose from its surface.

Harry caught a whiff. "Is that what I think it is?"

The captain had a confident air about her as she announced, "I always said I beat the Borg with coffee."

~*~

"I don't understand why you're so unhappy," B'Elanna said. "It's a privilege to be chosen to accompany the captain on this mission."

"Believe me," groaned Harry, "This is one honor I can do without." He ran his fingers anxiously through his black hair till it stood on end.

"Maybe it won't be so bad," B'Elanna said, trying to cheer him up.

"Who are you trying to kid?" said Tom. "Beaming over to the heart of the Borg complex, challenging the Queen to a duel---Janeway's finally cracked."

"I admit this seems a little unusual," said B'Elanna, "But Janeway's always been successful in the past. You know she'll protect you to the best of her ability, just like she always has. You've got to have faith, Harry."

Harry refused to be consoled. "These kind of things happen to me because I'm an ensign, don't they?"

"No, they happen to you because your name is Harry Kim."

~*~

In all honesty, Harry had to admit that so far things hadn't gone as badly as he had feared. As a matter of fact, they were worse, much worse.

As soon as they had materialized on the Borg cube, they had been accosted by several drones who dragged them off down the corridor. No matter how they struggled, they couldn't get away. Janeway had blasted three of them with her trusty phaser rifle and Harry had dispatched at least two more, but eventually the drones adapted and now all their efforts were in vain.

The drones pulled them into a large central chamber. The Borg Queen stood in the exact middle, bathed in an eerie green light. Always before, Harry associated that green light with pain and lots of bad things happening. He was sure this time would be no different.

Janeway didn't seem in the least bit phased. "You've messed with the wrong captain," she told the Queen. "This is your last chance."

"Such defiance," said the Queen with a sneer. In a way, it was a relief to see she was no longer relying on her charm to win them over. "You seem to forget, Janeway, that you are small and petty, whereas I am powerful. You will rue the day you ever went up against the power of the Collective."

"We'll see about that," retorted Janeway. And she launched herself at the Queen.

At first it didn't seem to be going so well. The Queen repelled every attack made by Janeway, and amused herself by occasionally taking a stab at the human who then gasped in pain. Janeway's hair was disheveled and her breathing ragged, as she turned to her faithful ensign.

"Now, Harry!" called Janeway.

He quickly opened his pack, pulled out an ornately carved thermos and poured its contents into the goblet. Janeway snatched it and downed it in one very long gulp.

None of this escaped the notice of the Borg Queen. "The flagon with the dragon!" she shrieked, staring in horror at the now empty thermos.

"Has the brew that is true," finished Janeway, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.

And indeed the potion seemed to have imbued Voyager's captain with special powers as she advanced on the Queen, who tried in vain to get away. One or two quick karate-style chops later, and the Queen lay dead at Janeway's feet. Harry saw with disgust that her head had come off again and the end of the spinal column was twitching slightly, like a snake.

Janeway had a triumphant smile on her face. As she called for beam-out, she turned to Harry and said, "Never underestimate the power of caffeine."

~*~

There was a bigger crowd than usual for the monthly Talent Night Competition, perhaps because everyone felt more relaxed in the wake of their latest victory over the Borg. People were in a congenial enough mood to sit through anything, and in fact that's exactly what they were doing. Neelix had thoughtfully provided them with popcorn and other harmless projectiles to fling at the performers, and Tuvok had a security detail in place to ensure that nothing heavy or really damaging was thrown.

"And now," said the Doctor, who was acting as emcee, "Our final performance of the evening. I give you, Ensign Harry Kim!"

"But," sputtered Harry, "I haven't prepared anything. I haven't got anything to do up there!"

"Maybe you haven't, but I certainly do," said the captain as she beckoned him to stand next to her. Wordlessly, he complied.

Janeway smiled at him as she pinned the new black-centered pip to his collar. "Congratulations, Lieutenant. This is for your performance above and beyond the call of duty. We're very proud of you, Harry."

The cheers were deafening. Once he got over his shock, Harry couldn't stop grinning. Finally, something had gone right.

~*~

"Hey, Harry, wake up."

A groggy Harry Kim forced his bleary eyes to open. They focused on the face of Tom Paris, who looked both concerned and amused at the same time.

"Where...where am I?"

"In the Mess Hall," said Paris. "It's 0600. I didn't know Neelix was putting knockout drops in the food."

"He's not." Kim passed his hand over his face. "I just finished a double shift on the bridge."

"Harry, Harry, Harry. How many times have I told you, volunteering for those extra night shifts aren't worth it. So what if that's the only time you get to sit in the Captain's chair?"

"That's not it." Kim sighed and started the painful process of standing. "Well, I guess I'll finish sleeping in my own bed." As he stood, a padd which had been on his lap clattered to the floor.

"What's this?" Paris bent to retrieve it, chuckled at the title, then started scrolling through. He looked toward his friend, but Kim was already gone.

Paris smirked. He'd return the padd, along with some choice comments, in the morning.
 

FINIS
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