The following evening, FitzSkimmons were relaxing on their common room couch when Daisy asked, "So are we going to the final quidditch match tomorrow? So far we've only been to the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw match and the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff match."
"How did we manage to only go to Hufflepuff matches?" mused Fitz curiously.
"Discovering a three-headed dog, went to it because we wanted to see if there was something to all this quidditch hubbub, sleeping in late and having sex, it was in the afternoon instead of the morning like all five other matches for some inexplicable random reason so we'd already done the sleeping in late and having sex and had nothing better to do, and sleeping in late and having sex," listed off Simmons.
"Ah, yes — sleeping in late and having sex are strong competitors to waking up early, not having sex, and watching a bunch of kids chase their balls in the sky," sighed Daisy contentedly.
"Did you just answer your own question on whether we should go tomorrow, Daisy?" asked Simmons with a smile.
"Maybe," shrugged the younger girl. "Though we could do our normal thing and then show up fashionably late afterwards if the match is still going on."
"Speaking of which — does anyone have a better idea than going ahead and getting started on that now?" asked Fitz, wrapping his arms around both of his girls' shoulders and pulling them towards him. "The sex part at least, not so much the sleeping in late part at the moment."
"Took the words right out of my mouth, hubby," smirked Daisy, leaning over to kiss him.
~FSK~
The following midday, FitzSkimmons wandered across the Hogwarts grounds down to the quidditch pitch. From the sounds coming from inside the stadium, the match was still raging on, so they climbed up into the stands, looking for seats.
"Where should we sit?" asked Simmons.
"Follow me," replied Daisy with a smile that could only spell trouble.
She weaved her way through the stands, Fitz and Simmons following after her, until she dropped down onto the bench right behind Malfoy and his goons.
"Morning, boys," she said half-sultrily, half-leeringly.
Malfoy spun around, a look of what could almost be called terror on his face, as he remembered what had happened the last time he'd encountered Ronna Weasley at a quidditch match.
"Oh, relax," said Daisy with an innocent smile. "I won't end it if you don't start it. These just seemed like really nice seats to watch whatever it is that's going on."
And watch you squirm, she added in her mind.
"I'll go tell Snape," snarled Malfoy.
"What? That we're sitting behind you watching the match like we have every right to do, or that you got knocked unconscious by a girl, and a Weasley girl at that?" asked Fitz.
Malfoy's face quickly fell as he realized the pickle he was in. He could whine that three Gryffindors were sitting behind him, but at the moment they were just sitting there peaceably, paying no attention to anything but the match and certainly not looking like they were or were about to cause any trouble, something even Snape's pure hatred of Potter couldn't do anything about, as everyone was permitted to sit wherever they liked so long as they weren't causing any trouble, which even Snape couldn't pretend they were at the moment. As for using the excuse that they had caused trouble last time to get them removed, an idea that would probably work as that would be close enough for Snape to pretend that Potter was likely to cause trouble because they had some other time in a sort of similar situation, that would require him admitting that he'd got punched square in the face by a girl, and Weasel at that, and while that might get her in trouble, it would still make him lose face in front of everyone around him, including the cute Pansy Parkinson who was sitting right in front of him — and the trio had never shown any indication that they cared about getting in trouble, so it's not like it would really even negatively impact them, certainly not as much as his ruthless and cunning image would be impacted.
So he turned back around skulking, and started sneering out at the Gryffindor players and jeering extra loudly any time any of them made any mistakes.
When the match finally ended an hour later, Malfoy turned and growled at FitzSkimmons, "I'll get you one day — mark my words."
"Waiting and ready, punk," replied Daisy.
At Malfoy's confused expression, Simmons leaned across Fitz and whispered to her, "I don't think the word 'punk' exists in the wizarding world — or, you know, is very popular in Britain period."
"Oh — well that's a shame," replied Daisy. "Such a lovely insult." Looking back down at Malfoy, she said, "Then I guess I'll just have to go with the tried and true classic — Begone, Git! Although, technically, it's 'Begone, thot', and that word's still about a decade away from being invented, so tried and true classic's a bit off as well. Although 'git' is pretty classic according to my two Brits here, so we'll just go with that being what I meant."
Malfoy continued to just stare at her in utter confusion, not understanding half of the words that had just come out of her mouth. And indescribably confused was not a very good position to be evil from, or even just mildly annoying, so finally he just shook his head and turned and walked away, hoping for better luck next time.
"You know, I really think he's starting to grow on me," commented Fitz dryly as they followed everyone else out of the stands. "Maybe like that gross mold that grows in the bathroom when it doesn't get cleaned enough because you two are both away on missions, and the whole 'cleaning the bathroom' thing is far beyond any phds I ever earned, but growing nonetheless."
"Ew, gross example, but yeah — I completely agree," replied Daisy. "He just looks so clueless when he doesn't have a clue what's going on."
"You seriously didn't just say that, did you?" said Simmons, rolling her eyes. "Clueless when he doesn't have a clue?"
"I thought it was kind of funny," said Fitz.
"Thank you, hubby."
Two evening's later, FitzSkimmons walked down to the Leaving Feast.
For reasons unknown, the Leaving Feast was being held on the Monday almost two weeks prior to the train that would carry everyone back to Kings Cross, London, but it was a feast, so who really cared. The wives had dressed up in fancy muggle dresses and Fitz in a cardigan (Simmons' insistence, and Daisy hadn't been able to owl mail order any late-twenty-first century space bounty hunter garb so there wasn't any argument), as they highly doubted anyone was going to try to expel them at the Leaving Feast, and a year of nothing but drab robes out in public just wasn't cutting it for the girls any longer — Fitz's persistent lack of self-esteem made him immune to feeling unhappy about not being able to show off his assets, no matter how many times the girls insisted they found him attractive.
But walking into the Great Hall, they certainly turned everyone's heads, most of the purebloods and a large portion of the halfbloods never having seen two thirty-something year olds they considered first years in low-cut, fancy dresses, plus Fitz with them.
FitzSkimmons ignored all this however, and walked over to their normal seats at the Gryffindor table to wait for the feast to begin. However, it wasn't to ignore them, as very quickly their Head of House swept over with an even sterner than normal look on her face.
"What the—? How did—?" exclaimed McGonagall.
"Owl mail catalogue that specializes in muggle-wear that we got from some friends at the very beginning of the year," answered Simmons curtly. "We were tired of our artistic expression being stifled by boring black robes that all look the same, and this is supposed to be a formal event — or, a Feast being the closest thing you seem to have to a formal event here, anyway — so we dressed formally in the clothes of our own people, because, quite frankly, that out there —" she motioned out over the sea of identical black robes around them — "is just plain depressing."
"Trust us, MG, Hermione and I really aren't the kind to care about showing ourselves off, or care what other people think about us, but we are quite blessed with our assets, and we refuse to be constrained any longer," said Daisy. "And what? — Are you going to kick us out two weeks before we leave anyway? You didn't nine months ago, you're not going to now, and we're not changing clothes."
"What she means to say is —" began Fitz trying to placate the situation, but he was cut off by Simmons.
"No, actually Ronna's completely right. Expel us, or leave us alone. Or take a vote and see if we get voted off the castle, because I can guarantee you over half the crowd here will vote that we stay, even with all of Slytherins voting against us on principle. Because let's be honest, we're two hot girls in mildly revealing dresses, which guaranteedly wins us all the boys' votes, and girls love fashion so we'll get enough of them, plus win a few more from the girls for Harry, because who doesn't like a man in a cardigan? — Ma'am."
"Pretty sure you're the only cardigan-lover on the planet," muttered Daisy in an undertone.
McGonagall however was too busy being shocked yet again that these three didn't fear any punishment she could threaten them with, rendering her powerless against them, since she couldn't actually expel them obviously. Potter was Dumbledore's pet, Ronna was a Weasley, and even she knew that if she tried to kick Hermione out, the other two would go with her. But not giving up hope quite yet, she went with the only threat she did still have, even if it hadn't worked when she'd tried it nine months earlier — the Matriarch Weasley.
"I will write home to your mother, Weasley."
"Right, yeah, because she'll totally believe that I, pureblood of the purebloods, even if we're scorned by pretty much all the other purebloods and for pretty good reasons honestly — how are we so destitute in a world of magic? — but that I of all people am wearing a muggle dress she won't even understand what you're trying to explain as she's clearly never seen one of these before in her life, never having stepped more than ten feet into the muggle world and knowing absolutely nothing about it," retorted Daisy. "So good luck with that. Also, don't care. So please, go right ahead. Make a fool of yourself trying to explain what you also have probably never seen before now, and if she does howl at me, or whatever those red letter things are called, so be it — completely fine with being expelled, remember?"
After staring at the redhead for a while longer, with nothing else to do McGonagall turned and slowly walked back up to the head table where Dumbledore had just stood up to make his pre-Feast announcements, bested once again by three students she couldn't find any power over.
Once she was out of earshot of the Gryffindor table, Fitz asked quietly, "MG? Shouldn't it be PM, or HM, for Professor McGonagall or Head McGonagall? I mean, AC is for Agent Coulson."
"Yeah, but neither of those sound as good," replied Daisy. "MG from 'McGonagall' just works better, even if it doesn't match AC."
But Dumbledore was speaking by this point, and food soon appeared in front of all their plates, and Daisy's nickname for their Transfiguration teacher gave way to feasting like the king and queens they were.
~FSK~
The Leaving Feast had barely ended and everyone had slowly begun meandering back towards their common rooms, when Malfoy came strolling towards them with a sneer that should be criminal — and Daisy was pretty sure was in thirteen countries, half a dozen provinces, and two small nation-states.
"So — looks like Slytherin took home the House Cup again," drawled the git as soon as he made it up to them.
"The green and silver drapes would seem to indicate something of the sort," replied Daisy boredly. "Unless they happen to be some extra-rare set of Gryffindor tapestries that were mistakenly printed in Slytherin colors and with the Slytherin logo instead of the normal red, gold, and lion, and are therefore actually extremely valuable and only brought out on rare and special occasions like us stomping your asses in the House Cup."
"And the points?" sneered Malfoy, completely missing her sarcasm and thinking she actually might have thought they were completely incorrectly made Gryffindor banners. "Dumbledore said we had the most points when he read them all out."
"It's on a rare lin-quad-poly-expo-logarithmic regression scale that really means that however many points the lion people get, is better than the number of points the snake people get," made up Fitz smoothly, with similar enthusiasm in his voice as Daisy had had ten seconds before — which is to say, absolutely none at all.
Malfoy just kind of stared at him in confusion, not understanding any of the entirely real, but really incorrectly combined words coming out of Fitz's mouth.
"It's seventh year magic — Harry and I are geniuses," explained Simmons with an imperious shrug, only half-lying — they really were geniuses, after all.
Malfoy continued to just stare at them for several more long seconds, before finally saying with much less assuredness than when he'd first walked up, "Yeah, well then, why did Dumbledore say we, Slytherin House, were the champions? Huh? Answer me that, Potter, Weasel, and mudblood."
"Because we're obviously being sarcastic, you nincompoop," answered Daisy, rolling her eyes at the complete moron. "And here I thought you were at least competently functional, if clearly not the brightest LED in the light fixture."
"The what?" asked Malfoy in confusion. It was like they were talking a completely different language.
"Oh, right — pureblood who's never seen electricity before," said Daisy. "It's like a candle without fire. Produces light with less to no heat, won't burn you if you touch most modern versions, and is comprised of electrons zipping down metal wires, which also power things like iPhones, Quinjet navigation systems (normal or alga-biofuel powered), and non-Internet servers to power the base because we get hacked all the bloody time, at least once a year." Looking over at FitzSimmons, she asked, "Right?"
"Closer than thinking Sir Isaac created fruit-flavored biscuits," answered Simmons.
By this point staring at them like they were completely out of their minds, Malfoy just kind of mumbled, "You three are mad — I'm out of here."
"Yep — you do that," replied Daisy boredly as Malfoy walked away, still giving them occasional glances over his shoulder like he thought they might suddenly go all psychotic on him or something.
"Well, looks like we finally figured out how to get him to leave us alone," said Fitz when he was out of earshot. "Just talk about things that don't even exist in the muggle world yet, and wouldn't be known by anyone exclusively in the wizarding world even if they had been invented yet."
"Shame it took us until the end of the year to figure that out, when hopefully we'll be going back home soon," replied Simmons. "Our home."
~FSK~
Two weeks later, FitzSkimmons boarded the Hogwarts Express with the rest of the Hogwartians, bound for London and Kings Cross station, where their adventure had all begun.
They were really hoping that it would also be the end of their adventure. They didn't have a plan yet for how to stay together over the summer and eventually actually get home if the 0-8-4 didn't come through for them now that the school year was over, but the place they began this adventure seemed the most likely place it would end as well. So they were trusting their gut feelings that everything would work itself out, and not worrying about it until actually proved wrong and they needed to start worrying about it in a hurry.
Several hours into the train ride, Daisy was lying across FitzSimmons' laps, thinking back over their nine months at Hogwarts. All three of them had already changed into their muggle clothes, and so she was dressed in a skimpy tank top and tight-fitting jeans, the tank top of which was definitely questionable as to its appropriateness even for the muggle world if they did end up having to enter it again, and well beyond what any wizarding adult would have condemned as completely improper, but she was hoping they weren't going to be going into the muggle world, and didn't care what any of the other students on the train thought if they did happen to come uninvited into the compartment the three of them had easily gotten alone as still no one really knew what to think about them.
And as was wont any time she was lying on her back across Fitz's lap in a mostly private situation, her husband's hand had snuck its way under her neckline to gently knead her breasts and tease her nipples, making Daisy really wish she was wearing a skirt instead of jeans. Simmons' hand was resting between the apex of Daisy's thighs, her knuckles rhythmically brushing against Daisy's most sensitive spot through the denim and cotton layers of clothing as she talked with Fitz about some scientific explanation of how magic functioned and was really just an unexplored branch of science or something Daisy wasn't paying attention to, but that was merely teasing, nothing close to what she really needed to make her body come alive, like it could have had she been wearing a skirt that Simmons could have got her hand up under to rub against much less clothing. Though given the fact that her feet were facing towards the clear, glass door instead of towards the window, it was probably a good idea she wasn't wearing a skirt, as that might have been too exhibitionistic even for her. Also, she never wore skirts, so there was that.
But as her husband and wife talked above her, Daisy let herself drift away in the ministrations she was receiving, reliving their time at Hogwarts. And her thoughts had just made it to the Leaving Feast, where she was pretty sure a House Cup or something that McGonagall had told them about the night they'd arrived had been awarded to someone, but it was clearly so unimportant and she had cared so little about it that she had already forgot who it was awarded to in the two weeks since the Leaving Feast.
Thankfully, however, Malfoy and his two thugs popped into their compartment uninvited at that very moment to remind her.
"Thought being Dumbledore's favorite would just hand you the House Cup, did you Potter? That you wouldn't have to try, and could just do whatever you wanted all year and he'd make up points for you at the very end? Well, looks like you were wrong," he drawled, apparently completely missing the fact Fitz's hand was under Daisy's tank top and Simmons' hand was highly inappropriately placed as well, as he not only didn't say anything about it, he didn't even stare at them in shock or confusion like he normally did when they were doing something questionable.
"Oh, right...that was rewarded, wasn't it?" said Fitz disinterestedly. "Completely forgot all about that. And what is it winning the House Cup does again? Does it help you get into wizarding university? Or maybe help you get a better job when you graduate than you would if your House never won the House Cup? Oh wait, no — I believe Professor McGonagall's words were 'it's a great honor', which in my experience is code for 'doesn't mean shit'."
"I would point out something about us competing really hard to be the top of our class at the Academy, but I guess that was really just a personal competition between the two of us, and not against everyone else," Simmons commented to Fitz.
"Yeah, but top of the class is an individual thing, and it does affect your future career in some fields, especially medicine and law," answered Fitz. "Whereas the House Cup is an entire House award that just two or three people could intentionally tank if they wanted to, or were paid enough gold by another House, and presumably would never come up in a job interview — whereas being able to say that you were the top student in your class, or second best student in your class, is something you can put on a resume, or tell the person interviewing you, even here in the wizarding world. So that really does have some effect, since it's an individual accomplishment, instead of a socialist accomplishment."
"Ah, right, that's true — you're totally right," replied Simmons. "My top of the class finish, your second place finish, and Ronna's third place finish will all mean something one day if we keep them up for seven years, but the House Cup is completely meaningless except to give people like Malfoy something to brag about because they're incapable of achieving anything worthwhile by themselves — they need a socialist prize to boost their self-esteems and egos and make them feel like they're actually important and worth something. A participation trophy of sorts for people who can't actually win anything on their own."
"Hey! I'm standing right here! I can hear you, you know!" exclaimed Malfoy, too affronted to even think of his normal reaction of trying to curse or beat up anyone who dared insult him — and also the fact that if he'd learnt nothing else during the school year, it was that the three he was currently talking to certainly weren't afraid to fight him hand to hand, Ronna had already knocked him unconscious once, and there was no question that they had placed top three out of all the first years, and therefore did likely know more spells than him by this point, that they had never shown they wouldn't be willing to use if he tried to pick a fight against them. For being the boy savior, a weasel, and a mudblood, they certainly didn't behave as everyone would expect them to or how the rest of their family behaved.
"Well, duh! That's why they were talking about you in the third person, you moron," said Daisy, rolling her eyes at the idiot. "They wouldn't have been making fun of you if you weren't here to hear it, that'd just be a complete waste of time."
"Yeah, well — you laying on Potter and the mudblood's laps can't be very appropriate," retorted Malfoy weakly, apparently finally noticing at least something about their positions, even if Fitz had eventually removed his hand from under Daisy's tank top just to put it right back on top of her breast just over her tank top this time. "I could go tell on you to one of the teachers and get you in trouble. And probably your clothing, too."
"Oh, yes, please do that," replied Simmons not completely unearnestly. "I'll be curious who you find, as I didn't see a single adult get on this train other than the conductor, who didn't seem very likely to be busting anyone from when I met him on the ride up."
Draco suddenly seemed to realize that she was actually completely correct, that there was no one on board to get any of them in trouble. But instead of being a blessing like normal against the general cowardice populous, that was a very bad thing when it came to three people who had been looking for an excuse to beat him into a pulp since the beginning of school, and were simply better than him in every way. So he just gave them one more long, threatening, but purely for appearance's sake growl, and turned and stalked out of their compartment, his two thugs obediently lumbering after their master.
"Shame — still no fight," sighed Daisy once they were out of sight. "Really thought I might have had my opportunity there."
"You did already knock him unconscious, give him a concussion, and knock several of his teeth out with one punch, wifey," said Simmons consolingly, rubbing Daisy's stomach lightly. "And it's not like you won't get plenty of bad guys to let your pent up issues out on when we get back."
"Fair enough."
~FSK~
Late that afternoon, FitzSkimmons disboarded the Hogwarts Express.
They had waited until everyone else had left before them, so they could be all alone in case the 0-8-4's hopeful method of taking them back to their own world was less than subtle, they didn't want anyone seeing them disappearing back into their own world in case this one really was real.
But soon enough everyone else had walked through the barrier back into the muggle world, and they were all alone. Crossing Platform Nine and Three-Quarters towards the gate, their hands found each other, praying that this would be their portal back into their own world. As much fun as Hogwarts might have been, they were really ready to get back to Shield, and protecting their own world.
And as they walked through the barrier, instead of finding themselves on the muggle portion of Kings Cross station like the rest of the Hogwarts Express riders had, they found themselves stepping back into the Shield lab they had left nine months earlier, the 0-8-4 still sitting in its exact same spot on the table it had been on while FitzSimmons were studying it when Daisy had walked in, the small lights on its surface blinking innocently at them.
They all looked around them, and then at each other, letting out deep sighs of relief when they saw they really were home again. They also realized that they were all back in their clothes they had been in when they had left the lab nine months earlier, not the clothes they had changed into on the train.
They had only been there half a minute still looking around and reveling in the glorious feeling of finally being back, when May poked her head through the door and said, "FitzSimmons, Coulson wants to know if you two have figured out the 0-8-4 yet, and Daisy, training room in ten minutes," before disappearing again.
"Looks like our little adventure really didn't take any time here at all if May didn't notice," said Fitz in relief. "But let's never do that again."
"Agreed," echoed the girls in unison.