Ever since Professor Lupin had repelled the dementor on the train with 'Expecto Patronum', Simmons had been searching the library high and low for a book that would teach them how to perform said spell.
Finally one evening as they studied in the library, she walked back from where she'd been perusing the nearby shelves, and slammed a large book down on the table where Fitz was helping Daisy finish up their last essay of the evening, a giant smile on her face. At the noise, Fitz and Daisy both looked up.
"Find something interesting?" asked Daisy dryly.
"The Patronus Charm — dementor repelling 101," answered Simmons, with, if possible, an even bigger smile than before.
"You might want to calm it with the smile a little bit, or you're going to strain something — that, or someone around us is going to think you've gone insane smiling like that in the library," replied Daisy. "But if it gets me out of finishing this stupid Runes essay, I'm all for it."
"You're literally three sentences away from finishing," said Fitz, rolling his eyes.
"How about this, Daisy-girl," said Simmons. "Finish your essay, we'll go back to our room where Fitz will eat you out, and then we'll start working on the Patronus Charm — that work for you?"
"Deal!" replied Daisy much more excitedly than before, as Fitz asked, "Why me?"
"Because you want to anyway, and I need to fully read through the instructions while you do it," answered Simmons. "Now chop, chop — there's orgasms to be had and spells to be learned."
"Sure those aren't the same for you?" muttered Daisy as she pulled her parchment towards her.
A longer while later than Simmons had planned, she began explaining to her spouses how the Patronus Charm worked. Daisy had insisted it only fair that she return the favor Fitz had just done for her, and since Simmons had already finished all the reading she could on the spell, Fitz had convinced her that since they couldn't start the spell quite yet, and his mouth and hands weren't going to be occupied, she might as well make the most of the time and sit on his face while Daisy sucked him off. Simmons had put her foot down on doing anything more than that until after they'd worked on the charm, though, so now they were back in their common room, mostly clothed, sitting on the couch together, Simmons in the middle with the book propped open on her lap.
" 'To conjure a patronus, the wizard must concentrate on a happy memory, and then cast the spell 'Expecto Patronum' '," read Simmons.
"Sounds simple enough," said Daisy.
"True, but given this book's descriptions of other spells we already know, it's certainly oversimplifying it a little — or a lot," answered Simmons. "So I imagine it's a lot harder to actually cast than it sounds. Also, I'm guessing 'happy memory' is like saying Leopold is 'slightly unpleasant'."
"So we need the absolutely most joyful memories we have, and I imagine trying to simultaneously concentrate fully on them along with saying the spell is easier said than done," said Fitz. "So first off, what memories do we need?"
"Wedding?" answered Daisy. "I, at least, don't think I've ever been happier than when I vowed to spend the rest of my life with you two genius nerds who talk in weird accents."
"I would certainly have to go with my wedding as well — but which one to choose from?" smirked Simmons.
Daisy rolled her eyes. "Not all of us have three."
"And wasn't the middle one kind of bittersweet?" added Fitz. "There was a lot going on around that one."
"You became Leopold just a few days after the first one, so that one's got its pain, too," replied Simmons. "You pointed a gun at me."
"Third it is then!" exclaimed Daisy chipperly. "That one was completely fabulous — mostly because I was in it."
FitzSimmons rolled their eyes at their wife's antics, but they secretly had to agree — the third one had been the best.
"Okay, so now that we've determined I'm the best, what do we do?" asked Daisy.
"Shouldn't 'The Best' already know?" teased Fitz.
"First we should probably replay the day in our minds to remember it to the fullest, and regain the feelings of the day as best as we can — okay, first first we should stand up and separate a bit so you two don't start remembering our wedding night too much and start trying to distract us from what we're supposed to be doing —"
"We would never!" gasped Daisy in mock offense, before leaning across Simmons and grabbing Fitz's face to pull him to her to kiss.
Simmons pushed them apart as she stood up. "— And then we think back on the day, and then we try casting the spell. One at a time, in case this is one of those spells that when miscast wants to blow things up or something."
Fitz and Daisy stood up as well, sharing a quick kiss now that Simmons wasn't there to stop them, before following their wife over to the open part of the common room, spreading out and facing in the same direction, so any miscast spells wouldn't hit any of them.
They took several minutes to remember their wedding day in as much detail as they could, before Simmons finally said, "Ready?"
"After you, wifey," replied Daisy.
Concentrating on the pure, unbridled joy of knowing she was going to spend the rest of her life with Leopold James Fitz and Daisy Skye Johnson, Simmons said, "Expecto Patronum."
A cloud of silver whooshed out of the end of her wand, almost looking like it was trying to form a shape before it dissipated into nothingness.
"Yay! You did it!" squealed Daisy, jumping up and down in excitement.
"I can do it better," said Simmons instantly, shaking her head, as behind them, and unseen by either of them, Fitz was mouthing her words with her with a roll of his eyes, knowing his perfectionist wife was going to act like this.
Taking a deep breath, and concentrating even harder, she said "Expecto Patronum" again, focusing on retaining the memory in her mind instead of being distracted by what was coming out of her wand.
This time when the silver cloud burst out of the end of her wand, it hovered in the air in front of her for several seconds, once again looking like it was trying to take shape, before slowly dissipating out into nothingness again.
"Was it just me, or did that — ?" began Fitz.
"Try to form into the shape of a cuttlefish, yeah — I thought the same, but I thought maybe I was just imagining it," finished Simmons.
"So Patronus Charms are supposed to take the shape of a cuttlefish?" asked Daisy. "Do wizards even know what cuttlefish are? And Lupin's didn't seem to look like a cuttlefish that I remember."
"It's a memory charm…" said Simmons slowly. "So maybe it takes on the shape of something important to the caster? I mean, studying cuttlefish has been a dream of mine since I was a little girl."
"Can you get it to stay? And can you control it?" asked Fitz.
Simmons tried the spell another half a dozen times, by the end of which she had complete control over her ghostly cuttlefish pet, and had it swimming through the air all around the room.
"Okay, Fitz — your turn," she said as she lowered her wand and her cuttlefish disappeared.
It took Fitz a few more tries to get it perfect than it had Simmons, but soon he too had a completely controllable patronus.
When Fitz produced a recognizable shape for the first time, Simmons couldn't help but sigh, "Oh, Fitz — I should have expected no less."
Daisy merely cooed, "A monkey! I want."
Finally it was Daisy's turn, and she too soon had a shapely dementor-repeller. As she gloated over the giant size of her daisy patronus that was in fact substantially larger than Simmons' cuttlefish and Fitz's monkey, Simmons couldn't help but say, "Size doesn't matter, you know — it's how you use it."
Daisy went over and wrapped her arms around Fitz from behind.
"Oh, I beg to differ," she smirked. "Size definitely matters — you can't really tell me Cabbage-Head measured up to Fitzy."
"It was a brussels sprout!" exclaimed Simmons. "And I can't believe he's got you calling Milton that, regardless of the vegetable in question — you never even met him!"
"It's funny — and you never answered the question," replied Daisy.
Simmons sighed, leaning back against the dorm room wall she was standing next to. "He wasn't one of the few I would know. But if we're going to go down this road, Fitz has the size and knows how to use it better than anyone else."
"I knew it!" exclaimed Daisy, jumping up and down.
"Why are you celebrating?!" exclaimed Simmons. "If anyone should be, it's Fitz, not you. What difference does it make to you how Fitz compares to anyone I was with before him? I married him after all, and I'm clearly more than pleased with — and pleased by — what Fitz has."
"He's my husband! I'm happy for him!" replied Daisy cheerfully. Turning to Fitz she added, "And obviously you're the biggest and best I've ever had, as well."
"Even better than Miles?" teased Fitz.
"Way better than Miles — and better looking, too," smirked Daisy.
"When you two are done with your measuring contest, can we —" sighed Simmons, before suddenly cutting off short.
"Can we what? Properly appreciate Fitz's size?" supplied Daisy teasingly.
"Yeah…" sighed Simmons. "I just remembered we actually don't have anything else to do tonight."
~FSK~
After their exciting first Care of Magical Creatures lesson, the class took a noticeable nosedive.
Hagrid had lost all confidence, and now had them doing nothing more than trying to stuff lettuce down flobberworm throats, a creature that looked like it would do best if you just left them alone outside to survive on their own. Which was a great disappointment to the biologist in Simmons, who'd really been excited to learn about new magical creatures they hadn't ran across before, especially after Harry, Hermione, and Ron/Ronna having dealt with a dragon, three-headed dog, and acromantula in their first two years at Hogwarts, not having even started taking Care of Magical Creatures class yet. But Hagrid brought out nothing more exciting, and Care of Magical Creatures soon became as tedious and boring as Divination.
By the end of just a few lessons in Trelawney's sweltering, stuffy, suffocating attic, Simmons had given up any hope that wizards had any real magical means for predicting the future, or even just a vague clue of detecting what direction things might be trending in, any more than a logical person who was aware of what was going on around them did just using their brain.
"I personally am a fan of the 'Well, well, well — if it isn't the consequences of my own actions' method of predicting the future," said Daisy one day as they walked down from Divination to Transfiguration, after Simmons had grumbled to herself for the umpteen billionth time about the class.
"I'm pretty sure that's observing the present and explaining it based on the past, and has absolutely nothing to do with the future," replied Fitz, rolling his eyes.
"Oh no — I'm predicting just how big of trouble I'm going to be in with Coulson in the very near future just as soon as he finds out," smirked Daisy. "That's the kind of future telling I'm good at."
"Oh, well in that case I'm great at Divination, because I can easily predict what kind of trouble you're going to be in when you do stupid shit," Simmons smirked back. "I totally have that aura thing Trelawney's talked about having to have to be a good psychic, if that's all it takes."
"Isn't aura what what's-her-tits from Warehouse 13 could see?" queried Fitz. "People's auras."
"Leena," answered Simmons. "Ran the bed and breakfast."
"Yeah, her — you're her when it comes to reading Daisy's aura about the trouble she's going to be in when Coulson finds out what she did," replied Fitz.
"I can also divine what might happen if you asked the Director out on a date," said Simmons with a sly smile at her wife.
"Oh, for crying out loud!" exclaimed Daisy. "I'm married for Heaven's sake! Or have you forgot that?!"
"Oh, believe me — I remember it very, very well," smirked Simmons. "But it doesn't change the fact that you've always had a crush on him, and he's always been closer to you than anyone else since New York and the Avengers, and we've encouraged you for years to see if you two could make anything — and I don't mean like that."
"Pretty sure we couldn't, him having a robot body and all," replied Daisy, rolling her eyes. "But I still don't get you two."
"We're already in a polyamorous relationship — the fact we don't mind you having something with our Director as well really shouldn't be all that out of the realm of believability," said Fitz. "Just think of it like this. I'm married to Jemma, but I'm also married to you. And Jemma's married to me, but she's also married to you. Well, you're married to FitzSimmons — us — so why shouldn't you be able to date Coulson as well? It's kind of not exactly the same thing."
"Well, when you put it like that — it's still weird as fuck," replied Daisy.
"We're eventually going to get you to try, you know," smiled Simmons.
"Since I can never say no to you two, yeah you probably are," said Daisy. "And you were close our first year here, but there was never a chance when we got back to our world before I sent us here again, and then I just kind of forgot about it last year and you loved me enough not to bring it up."
"Yay!" exclaimed Simmons, hugging Daisy from behind.
"Still don't get you," said Daisy shaking her head, as she wrapped an arm around behind her to return Jemma's hug, backwards.
"We just want our wife to be happy," answered Simmons, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "And you like Coulson, even if you found us as well. And Coulson could use a little company too, and you do practically run Shield together, have for years even before he died the second time. He groomed you to be his replacement one day, and even if that doesn't need to happen now that he's basically an immortal robot, there's still something poetic about the Director and acting Director having a thing."
"You're crazy," sighed Daisy, shaking her head.
"Maybe — she did marry you, after all," smirked Fitz, earning him playful smacks from both his wives.
~FSK~
While Care and Divination were getting worse with every passing class, Potions was to their great astonishment getting better.
Whether Snape had decided they simply weren't worth his effort, or had been told by the powers that be to stand down when it came to Harry Potter, or was actually scared of FitzSkimmons and what they could do to him if he dared step out of line again, instead of turning even more vindictive towards them and Neville like they expected him to after the first Potions lesson and the DADA lesson that afternoon where Neville's boggart had been Snape, he had started pretending they didn't even exist. Which all things considered, when it came to Snape, was a godsend.
Of course, it was his own damn fault that he was Neville's greatest fear — over Bellatrix LeStrange, who'd tortured Neville's parents into insanity and not even remembering that Neville was their child; Death Eaters in general, who Bella was one of; or Riddle, who'd given Bella and the other Death Eaters with her the order — but it was still surprising of him not to continue trying to take his own terrible choices out on defenseless students, especially Neville.
Of course, in the very next Potions class after the first day of Potions and DADA, Simmons had pulled Neville over to their table to be their fourth to make it easier to protect him should Snape be out for blood, and it was a routine they'd kept up ever since even when it became apparent Snape was going to do nothing worse than ignore them all. And with Snape pretending their table didn't even exist, Simmons had been able to start teaching Neville Potions right under the Snake's hooked nose, a subject the boy turned out to actually not be the worst at when he had a competent, caring, helpful teacher. Of course, he still wasn't the best by any means, and never would be, but by Simmons' estimation he had at least risen to the level of middle of the class, which for Neville in Potions was practically a miracle.
So all in all, FitzSkimmons was confident that their standing up to Snape in the first class of the year had been for the best, and was going to make the year a much more pleasant one than normal.
Wanting to keep up her physical fitness a little better that school year than she had the previous two, even if she returned to her well-trained shape as soon as they returned to the real world, Daisy had started going out for a run on the grounds most evenings after their homework was finished, before it got dark.
And it was on one of these runs that Daisy spotted Oliver Wood finally holding tryouts for the open seeker position on the Gryffindor quidditch team. At supper the evening after their confrontation with Snape in Potions class and ensuing disagreement with Professor McGonagall over how they should have handled the situation, FitzSkimmons had found Oliver Wood so that Fitz could inform him that he wouldn't be playing quidditch that year. But for several weeks after that Wood had refused to accept that Fitz wasn't playing, and had pestered him at every opportunity to stay on the team. But now it seemed like he had finally accepted that Fitz wasn't going to play, and was holding tryouts for a new seeker, meaning he would hopefully stop trying to get Fitz to return.
What didn't seem like it was going to stop anytime soon, though, was all of the purebloods and most of the halfbloods who happened to be out on the grounds when Daisy was out for her run, staring at her in shock as she ran past in her sports bra and running shorts, the weather still being warm and Daisy a naturally warm-blooded person.
"You have to remember, Daisy, that anyone who hasn't spent a reasonable amount of time in the muggle world will never have seen a sports bra or running shorts before," Simmons reminded her one evening as they sat cuddled on the couch together after Daisy's run. "In fact, they've probably never even seen a girl out in public wearing less than robes, coats, long-sleeve shirts, and jeans. And that's not to mention the fact that they've probably never seen anyone running for exercise before, or honestly exercising period based on what we've seen in our two years here, and from what we've read about the first two years in the books."
"That, and you're smoking hot," added Fitz with a smirk, earning him playful slaps from both of his wives at the same time.
"I know, I know," sighed Daisy. "It's just that you'd think after seeing me like this for the dozenth time, they'd stop staring — or at least start staring at my boobs, instead of staring at me, like I've completely gone off my rocker. I can handle being stared at because I'm an attractive girl in semi-skimpy clothing, but being stared at simply for being out there running like they don't know it's going to happen every evening, is starting to get on my nerves a little. And it's not like it's new people every day, it's mostly the same people who are staring at me every evening. It's like, either just come up to me and say or ask whatever's on your mind, or start acting like normal human beings and either ignore me or stare at my tits. Just do something normal, whatever it is."
"I'm sorry," said Simmons gently, twisting sideways slightly to give her wife a hug.
"It's fine," sighed Daisy, leaning into Simmons' hug and resting her head on the older girl's shoulder. "And it honestly probably wouldn't be all that much better if they did act more like their muggle counterparts, since I'm pretty sure running hadn't yet taken off as a popular sport in the early-nineties, so they'd probably still be looking at me weird."
~FSK~
To help make Daisy feel a little better, and to enjoy what remained of the nice fall weather along with getting in a little exercise of their own, FitzSimmons started meeting Daisy outside at the end of her runs so they could all take a hike together around the grounds before it got too dark to see.
But as they finished up their hike one of these days, and were making their way back up to the castle in the twilight that had befallen them before they could finish their loop, Hagrid spotted them as he walked across the grounds himself.
Upon seeing Fitz, he roared out, "What d'yeh think you're doin', eh? Yeh're not to go wanderin' around after dark, Harry! An' you two! Lettin' him!"
He strode over to them and tried to grab Fitz's arm, but Fitz easily avoided him and stepped behind Daisy and Simmons, who had simultaneously moved in sync to step between Fitz and Hagrid, to protect their husband.
"It's not even dark yet, and why exactly can't I walk around the grounds before curfew?" asked Fitz with a hard edge to his voice. "No one's told us that we're not allowed to be outside during twilight, or that we're not allowed anywhere inside the grounds that isn't the Forbidden Forest any time before curfew like normal. And we're well short of curfew."
But Hagrid simply replied angrily, "Come on! I'm takin' yeh all back up ter school, an' don' let me catch yeh walkin' around after dark again!"
Slowly beginning to continue their walk since they were already heading that direction anyway, Simmons asked, "Does this have something to do with Mr Black? Has he been spotted nearby again, or inside the grounds? Or do the professors think he can make it into the grounds despite the dementors and all the enchantments, and like normal have completely failed to tell the one person it matters most to, namely Harry Potter?"
But Hagrid ignored her just as thoroughly as they had ignored promising him not to walk the grounds again, as they fully intended to take more evening strolls before the Northern Scotland weather turned bad, or at least until someone gave them an actual reason not to. Throughout the rest of their stroll back up to the castle, Hagrid continuously tried to move around to grab Fitz's arm, but as he was larger than all the three of them combined and twice as clumsy as the three of them tied together, and FitzSkimmons were all trained agents used to avoiding capture, they easily moved around to avoid him all the way back to the Great Oak Doors into the Entrance Hall.
"Now don't let me catch you out walking again at night," Hagrid growled as he finally stopped at the doors and let them go inside by themselves.
Once the door had clanged shut behind them, Daisy muttered under her breath, "We'll definitely do our best — not to let you catch us."
~FSK~
But three evenings later their best failed, and Hagrid caught them again.
It was at the end of another pleasant walk, a slightly shorter one this time because they had some homework they still needed to get finished for the following week, when Hagrid spotted them from his hut window. But despite the fact that it was noticeably lighter out than it had been the previous time he'd caught them since it was earlier in the evening this time, Hagrid still stormed out of his hut after them. So as FitzSkimmons walked back towards the castle, they heard his huffs and puffs coming towards them from a long distance off, causing them to roll their eyes in sync.
"Here we go again," muttered Simmons under her breath.
"I told yeh not ter be out here at night!" yelled Hagrid as soon as he was close to them.
"Sorry — wasn't listening," replied Fitz boredly, once again ducking out of reach of the giant of a man's groping paw. "You know, what with the whole not telling us why bit."
"If you want us to take you seriously, you're going to have to give us a reason why," added Simmons coolly.
"Yeah — we're grown women, we can take care of ourselves," finished Daisy, earning her a quick glare from Simmons about the 'grown' part that she promptly and thoroughly ignored.
Hagrid, however, seemed to be too busy trying to shoo Fitz back into the castle and muttering things under his breath about it being dangerous being outside the castle at night (despite the fact that it was still more light out than in half of the hallways inside the castle, and certainly more light than most of the poorly lit buildings without friendly people that they had to go into as Shield agents), to hear, or at least pay any attention to, what Daisy had said, or possibly even what Simmons had said before that.
Once they were at the Great Oak Doors several minutes later, Hagrid followed in behind them continuing to push them along through the castle, presumably all the way up to Gryffindor Tower and the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room. But when they ran across Professor McGonagall on the third floor, he changed his plans.
"Professor McGonagall," he said gruffly, "found these three wandering around outside without permission."
"I'll take care of it, Hagrid," said McGonagall crisply, before turning to FitzSkimmons. "Follow me."
Like the plethora of times before in their timeline when they'd got in trouble, she led them to her office, where she went and sat behind her desk looking grave.
"Since you refuse to listen to Hagrid, who is just looking out for you, I feel like there is no good hiding this from you any longer, Potter," she said in a very serious voice. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but Sirius Black is after you, Potter."
FitzSkimmons waited patiently for several seconds for her to continue on with why Mr Black was after Harry, but she never did, just looking at Fitz with such a somber expression that they thought it would have been better suited for someone Harry cared about having just died than for telling them that Mr Black was after Harry.
So finally, Fitz said sarcastically, "And what, you think he's hanging out on the Hogwarts grounds just waiting for me to stroll by on an evening hike?", as at exactly the same time Daisy said boredly, "Yeah, yeah, we already know."
Simmons, however, went straight for the more important issues. "The fact Mr Black is trying to get Harry is only relevant if you're also admitting that you don't trust the security of Hogwarts, or the effectiveness of the dementors you have surrounding this place. Because we're staying inside Hogwarts grounds, which is supposed to be the most secure location in all of Britain, at least according to how every adult goes on about it, anyway."
"And besides, if this Black dude can get onto the grounds at all to begin with, is it really that hard to believe that he could get inside the castle itself just as easily?" continued Daisy where Simmons left off. "I mean, this isn't a secure fortress by any definition of the word 'secure', or even 'fortress' for that matter. So it's not like Harry's in any more danger walking around the grounds with Hermione and I than he is wandering around the inside of the castle by himself. Or is that suddenly illegal now, too, once again without anyone bothering to tell the one person the rule applies to?"
Upon hearing them indifferently say that they already knew Black was after Harry, before they even got into questioning Hogwarts security, Professor McGonagall started staring at them in shock, clearly very taken aback. Obviously she, like every other adult in a position of authority over Harry except for Mr Weasley, hadn't thought he should be told such information, that he was too young, or too happy being susceptible and unprepared, or whatever other bullshit they all justified their behavior with.
But eventually, she finally managed to get out, "I see. Well, in that case, Potter, you should understand why I don't think it's a good idea for you to be out wandering the grounds in the evenings. Outside with only Weasley and Granger, it's very exposed, Potter."
"No — we don't understand. And we just told you why," replied Daisy. "Either Hogwarts isn't secure, in which case you should just tell us so we'll take you seriously, and be properly prepared, or you should admit that you're just doing this to cover your ass and not because you actually believe it's worth anything, in which case we'll at least understand your position, even if we will probably still ignore your ass-covering desires. You know, 'we recognize that the teachers have a made a decision, but given that it's a stupid ass decision, we've elected to ignore it', and all that. But at least we'll know what's going on."
"Don't talk to me that way, young woman!" exclaimed McGonagall, completely ignoring everything Daisy had actually said, in favor of self-righteous outrage at their 'disobedience' to authority. "These rules are set up to protect you — all of you!"
"Rules never told to us," muttered Fitz under his breath, but Simmons had finally had enough.
"Why exactly is Mr Black after Harry?!" she demanded. "If you want us to start giving two shits about Mr Black, you'd better start telling us exactly why this is such a bloody big deal! He's after Harry for a reason no adult will tell us, and most of you don't even want Harry to be aware that there's a psychotic murderer trying to kill him — you sure as bloody hell never thought it worth telling Harry that Mr Black is after him until pinned into a corner. And according to Malfoy, Harry should want revenge on Mr Black, want to go after Mr Black himself, but if the git actually knows why, well, he's a git, and refused to tell us. But blowing thirteen people up isn't a reason for Harry specifically to want to go after him himself, meaning there's something here that everyone is refusing to tell us. So just bloody out with it already!"
Simmons took in several deep breaths to try to calm herself slightly, as Daisy and Fitz both stared at her in surprise — it was usually Daisy who laid into people, not the prim and proper and oh so English Jemma Simmons.
"Damn, girl!" muttered Daisy under her breath after a few seconds.
McGonagall meanwhile looked absolutely appalled, though whether that was at being yelled at, or perhaps the fact that they knew why Mr Black had been sent to Azkaban in the first place, Fitz wasn't really sure. Their Head of House had seemed rather startled — or more startled at least than she'd been the entire time Jemma was yelling at her — when Simmons mentioned Mr Black blowing up thirteen people.
When no one said anything for several long seconds, Daisy finally said, "If you don't tell us why we should be concerned about Black — everything we should be concerned about Black — we're going to continue going outside whenever we damn well like before curfew like everyone else in this castle is allowed to, and we're going to trust our own skills on dealing with him in what seems to us like a near nonexistent chance we meet him. And we've already had our yearly discussion over not doing detentions for non-crimes."
When McGonagall still didn't say anything for several more seconds, Simmons finally sighed and said, "Okay, let's look at this logically. Mr Black is, according to you, after Harry Potter. Why? And more intriguingly, why won't anyone tell us why? Ronna's dad is the only one to have even told us that Mr Black is after Harry, until you right now, and he refused to tell us why as well. Malfoy may know, he did mention that Harry should want to be out there hunting Mr Black himself, but he refused to tell us why exactly that was, because — and I can't emphasize this point enough — he's a cunt. But in order to know that someone is after some other specific person, there has to be a reason why, whether it is a logical reason or not. So for you to say with such certainty that Mr Black is after Harry, and not anyone else, that means you must know something — something which you are refusing to tell us. Which I'm beginning to think may be even more noteworthy than why Mr Black is after Harry in the first place, with how much everyone is trying to hide it. Because knowing why everyone is so determined that Harry not know why Mr Black is after him tells us something about everyone who knows this secret piece of information, while knowing why Mr Black is after Harry only tells us something about Mr Black."
McGonagall was of course still staring at them in greater shock and disbelief than if Riddle and Mr Black had walked into her office at that very moment, but this time FitzSkimmons let her stare. They had said all they could, and she would either tell them why Mr Black was after Harry or she wouldn't, and what would happen would happen.
But eventually, Professor McGonagall finally seemed to come to a decision and collected herself, and began slowly, "What I am about to tell you must never leave this room. Many people above me, including Minister Fudge himself, don't want you to know this, and I could get in a lot of trouble for revealing this information to you. The Ministry has kept this a secret from most people. But Potter, your parents knew You-Know-Who was after them, thanks to Dumbledore. And Dumbledore suggested they go into hiding using a very complex spell. Now that spell requires one person to hide the secret inside. And Potter, your parents chose Black to be their Secret-Keeper, because he had been one of James's best friends in school, and was your father's best man in his wedding to Lily. But then, barely a week after the spell had been performed, Black —"
"What's the spell?" interrupted Simmons.
Professor McGonagall looked at her in confusion.
"What is the name of the spell? You didn't say," repeated Simmons.
"It's um, it's the Fidelius Charm," answered McGonagall, clearly confused as to how Granger could be wanting the name of some spell when she was about to tell them how Black had betrayed Potters' parents, before continuing on with her tale of woe and grief. "But as I was saying, barely a week after the spell had been performed, Black betrayed your parents, Potter, and told You-Know-Who the location of your parents' house. He seemed ready to finally openly declare his support for You-Know-Who. But then when You-Know-Who went to your parents' house — well, we all know what happened then. So Black, now that he'd revealed which side he was truly on, had to make a run for it. But the following day, Petter Pettigrew, another one of their close friends in school, cornered him on a muggle street. By the time the Hit Wizards of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad arrived on the scene, Black had blown Pettigrew to smithereens, and twelve muggles with him. Of course, they found all this out from muggle eyewitness whose memories were erased immediately afterwards, because like I said, by the time the Ministry got there, Black was just standing there laughing, surrounded by bodies, screaming muggles, a crater in the middle of the street so deep that it had cracked the sewer below, and Pettigrew's robes with just fragments of him remaining."
"Oh yeah — dad told me that sometime," cut in Daisy. "He said the largest piece of Pettigrew remaining to send back to his mom was his finger. I'd entirely forgotten about that."
"Yes, well, Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, and Black's been in Azkaban ever since," continued Professor McGonagall. "Until he escaped this past summer, that is. Now as for how we know Black is after Potter, besides betraying them to You-Know-Who and now wanting to finish the job he started, Minister Fudge visited Azkaban the night after he escaped, and the guards told Fudge that Black had been talking in his sleep for a while, always repeating the same words: 'He's at Hogwarts...he's at Hogwarts'."
"And is that everything?" demanded Simmons in a hard tone when their Head of House had finished. "Because it wouldn't be the first time you've tried not telling us everything we have the right to know."
McGonagall sighed. "There was one other thing. Potter, your parents had named Sirius your godfather when you were born. And that is everything, I swear."
FitzSkimmons all looked thoughtful for several seconds, thinking back over everything Professor McGonagall had told them, until Simmons finally spoke.
"Okay, a couple key things I think need addressed from this story. First, erasing the muggles' memories would be considered destruction of evidence in any decent court of law, and should therefore have immediately been dismissed by the judge, or if it was used in the trial, then it should have immediately set Mr Black free on grounds of a mistrial. Because Mr Black's lawyers weren't given a chance to question the witnesses during the trial in front of the judge and jury — Mr Black was never given a chance to face his accusers. And also it was technically a violation of intellectual property rights, taking their memories away from them against their will.
"Second, besides being impermissible since they were destroyed, eyewitness accounts are usually regarded as one of the least trustworthy pieces of evidence anyway, because people are very bad at remembering what actually happened under high stress situations, such as being blown up.
"Third, you said he was standing there laughing when the leo's arrived? While supposedly being on the run? And yet it took twenty magical bobbies to take him away? None of that goes together. After being standing there for who knows how long laughing when they arrived, when they tried to arrest him did he suddenly start fighting back then? Or did he do absolutely nothing, and one rookie beat cop could have handcuffed him and taken him in? I need more information.
"Fourth, what happened at Mr Black's trial? Or more specifically, can you get me the official transcript of the trial so we can read over it ourselves? Because there is so much that isn't sitting right with me about this entire account.
"And finally, going back to the spell itself, if a secret keeper is supposed to be such a secret, like it sounds like and logically seems like — why does everyone seem to know that Black was the Potters' secret keeper? Like shouldn't that have been kept a, oh, I don't know — secret? And why does the Ministry even know this Fidelius Charm was cast, especially before the Potters' deaths like it sounds like it was? Why were they involved at all to know any of this information?"
"The best way to keep a secret is to keep it to yourself. The second best way is to tell it to one other person, if you absolutely must — there is no third best. Another Gibbs' NCIS rule," muttered Fitz to himself.
"Rule four," supplied Simmons, before looking over at her wife. "But what about you, Ronna? What are your thoughts on all this?"
"I agree with you — from Professor McGonagall's story alone, things don't logically make sense," answered Daisy. Looking at Professor McGonagall directly, she continued, "Now I'm not saying your story's wrong, or that you're telling us anything more than what you've been told yourself, as I'm under the impression you were never on sight yourself, but all of those different things shouldn't have happened in the same story — it's bad plot, honestly. Too filled with holes that make it ripe for a plot twist. Now I'm not saying that there is actually a plot twist, that he's innocent or anything, but I'd need to weed out what really happened from the embellishments that have been added and made up over the numerous retellings, to confidently say he's one hundred percent guilty and trying to kill Harry."
"Plot twist — this is the perfect scenario, you know," Fitz said quietly to his wives.
"And that's the other thing that has me questioning this story," answered Simmons quietly. "So many incongruities, combined with the seeming importance of this Mr Black person and this entire sequence of events — it might not be the plot twist, but it definitely could be as well."
Professor McGonagall refrained from commenting on how real life wasn't some story, kind of lost in what they were saying anyway, and instead reluctantly answered Simmons' request of her. "Granger, you asked about Black's trial. Well, you see…there was no trial, as far as I'm aware. For many of the Death Eaters near the end of the war and right after it there weren't any trials, and the few trials that were held were as often as not purely for appearance sake. And even if Black did have a trial, I don't know if the public is allowed access to the notes of Wizengamot Trials anyway — I seriously doubt anyone's ever asked to read them before."
"Of course they haven't," sighed Simmons, rolling her eyes, before saying sarcastically, "Who'd want to bother keeping the courts in check?"
But McGonagall was far more concerned about the trio's reaction to the news that Black had betrayed Potter's parents and was now trying to kill Harry, than about trials or whether the account of Black's horrendous mass murder made any logical sense.
Or lack of reaction, to be more accurate.
"Potter, you did hear me say that Black betrayed your parents, right? That he's the reason you grew up with your relatives."
"Allegedly the reason," answered Fitz with a slightly hard edge in his voice. "That hasn't been proven beyond reasonable doubt — or bloody proven at all, apparently, since you said you believe there was no trial. But regardless to all of that, it still doesn't explain why we can't go for hikes before curfew. It still doesn't answer the question of whether you believe Hogwarts to be safe or not, which is why we're here. What Black did, why he was in jail, and even why he's after me, doesn't affect whether he can get into the castle grounds to attack me while we're out for a walk. He could have shot my dog and it still wouldn't make me think I should stop going outside. The two things are completely unrelated. It's all important information to learn for sure, information that should have been told to me years ago, but it has absolutely nothing to do with the reason we are in your office right now, which is taking walks in the evening. And don't get me wrong — I am very glad you finally stopped withholding my rightful information from me, but it doesn't change the fact that we're still completely safe to be out on the grounds, based on what you've told us so far."
McGonagall stared at him in shock for what felt like the thousandth time that night, though whether it was because of his indifference to everything Black had done, or because of his well thought out argument for why none of it should affect his walking-outside-in-the-evenings privileges, FitzSkimmons didn't know.
But eventually she finally just sighed, apparently giving up on trying to make them stop going outside. "Just stick close to the castle. He could have an accomplice or something who could get inside the grounds, and he did escaped from Azkaban which is supposed to be as impossible as getting into Hogwarts."
"Yes, Ma'am," answered Simmons, knowing it was the best course of action to seem like they were going to obey her. "Just make sure you tell Hagrid that as well, or he will drag us inside and probably to you again, wasting another one of your evenings."