Not long after his failed attempt to get into Gryffindor Tower on Halloween, Sirius Black had been strolling along through the Forbidden Forest, contemplating ways of getting past whoever was now guarding the hole into Gryffindor Tower, when he felt a pair of eyes following him.
Turning, he found a bright orange kneazle staring at him from the foot of a nearby tree. It stared at him unblinkingly, never moving a muscle, until he finally turned and continued walking on, having the strangest feeling that the kneazle knew exactly what he was.
Over the next several weeks, he continued to see the kneazle almost daily, just sitting there staring at him as he walked past, until one day he decided to walk up to it, figuring he could take on a kneazle if it was looking for a fight.
"You're not a dog," it hissed boredly at him when he got near enough, as it lifted up its paw and began licking it.
"No — animagus," answered Mr Black.
"And why is an animagus prowling around outside my castle, instead of going inside with all the rest of its humans?" the kneazle asked him.
"I, uh — I don't think I'd be rather welcome, to be honest," answered Mr Black. "They all think I did something I didn't actually do."
"And the humans would know you as?"
"Sirius Black," answered Mr Black, figuring it best not to lie to a kneazle.
"Escaped mass-murderer, I see. My name's Crookshanks," said Crookshanks. "Also known as Crooks, and probably most commonly, Fluffball, or some derivative of such involving the word 'fluff', or 'furry', or 'ball'.
"Humans," he said, shaking his head slightly in fond exasperation, before asking Mr Black, "So what brings you here in the first place, instead of being somewhere hiding, and not risking getting caught in the most secure area in Britain?"
"I'm trying to kill an animagus rat by the name of Petter Pettigrew, who betrayed my best friend, his wife, and their son, my godson," answered Sirius. "I saw in a Daily Prophet photo that he's been living with a wizarding family with the last name Weasley, and specifically with their oldest girl, Ronna, who's of school age. I tried to get back into Gryffindor Tower earlier this year, since that's where the Weasleys have always gone, but as you might have heard, the Fat Lady refused to let me in — and I may or may not have lost my temper slightly in my haste. That was my bad. But point being, since I can't get into Gryffindor Tower to get Pettigrew, I would be greatly appreciative if you, as a kneazle, could catch him and bring him out here to me."
"I already ate him. I could smell the traitor the moment my humans took me into the same room as him, right after rescuing me from the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley this past summer," answered Crookshanks with a yawn. "He's dead."
"Oh." Mr Black stared at Crookshanks for several long seconds, before finally saying, "Well that's going to change my plans a bit. You're sure?"
"Unless Ronna Weasley has two rats, and she certainly does not, yes — I'm quite positive," answered Crookshanks. "And he tasted as bad as he smelt, so I have no doubt it was him. Went and threw him up in Molly Weasley's shoe for allowing the Potters' betrayer to live in their family for years."
"Well, then — I guess I should get out of here, go somewhere a little more safe to hide and live at," replied Mr Black. "But one quick question before I do go — why wasn't Harry playing in the Gryffindor quidditch match earlier this month? Surely he's following in his father's footsteps, is he not?"
"He doesn't play quidditch, or at least not this year," answered Crookshanks. "They're too busy with school and well — other things — to spend five or six nights a week out practicing for hours. And I for one am quite thankful he's not out there risking his neck for a fluttering ball, although I do wish he could get his hands on a snitch for me, to let fly around our flat for me to chase."
He thought it probably best not to tell Mr Black that his humans were already mating, and three of them together at that — even if he did think Harry was doing quite well for himself with the ladies.
"Oh. Wow. I'm surprised," said Mr Black. "I assumed he'd follow after his father, be another greater seeker like him, and snuck into the stands during the first match to watch him. Of course, the dementors then had to come in for a snack, and I had to skedaddle before they noticed me there, but it was still nice to watch a match again for the first time in thirteen years, even if Harry wasn't playing."
He paused for a second, as Crookshanks began boredly licking his paw, before saying, "Well, I'll be going. Thanks for your help ridding this world of the Pettigrew scum, and I'll make sure to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon a long way from Hogwarts, so maybe the security on the castle will be lifted for Harry and everyone else. Goodbye, Crookshanks, and thanks again."
"Of course," replied Crookshanks, pausing just long enough from licking his paw to look up at Mr Black. "Say hi if you're ever in the area again."
~FSK~
A week later, as November turned into December, FitzSkimmons were eating breakfast in the Great Hall when Simmons plopped the morning's Daily Prophet down on top of Daisy's plate of bacon.
Which was really the serving dish of bacon, that Daisy had pulled in front of her to be her plate, so she and Fitz wouldn't have to waste all the extra time moving all the bacon from the serving dish to their individual plates, and dirtying up two extra dishes in the process. But now, their bacon was covered by a much less tasty newspaper, so they looked up at their wife for an explanation. One she gave by simply pointing at the front page article and accompanying picture.
Apparently Sirius Black had been spotted by numerous different muggles, over a several day period, in varying locations, far away from Hogwarts in small town outside of Carlisle, near the English/Scottish border.
"Think it's real?" asked Fitz, sneaking a piece of bacon out from under the paper. "And if so, why did he change his mind about trying to get into Gryffindor Tower?"
"If it is true, it certainly leads credence to any theory that he isn't after Harry," added Daisy. "But did he get what he wanted out of Gryffindor Tower, did he give up, or did he just apparate there to throw everyone off his tracks, and apparate right back here where he's waiting for everyone to be lulled into a sense of security before attacking again?"
"I don't know," answered Simmons. "But the Prophet and Ministry apparently believe the legitimacy of these claims, to paste it across the front cover. I mean, it could be a trick to make Mr Black think they think he's there, while they're really increasing the security here, but I don't normally credit wizards with an overabundance of strategic thinking."
"So what's this going to mean for here, now?" asked Daisy. "They going to relax the restrictions a bit, remove the dementors or at least some of them, and let Harry go to Hogsmeade?"
"Until he's captured, I highly doubt it," answered Simmons sadly. "I mean, we can always ask Professor McGonagall if she'll let us go to Hogsmeade on the trip right before Christmas, but I highly doubt she'll say yes. She'll probably use our disagreement with her and Snape in the first week as her excuse, but I'm pretty sure she wouldn't let Harry go even if we hadn't stood up to Snape and Mr Dursley had signed Harry's permission slip over the summer. Those are just convenient excuses not to have to tell Harry the truth that they wouldn't let him go to Hogsmeade this year even if God himself gave Harry permission."
And just as Simmons predicted, that is exactly what occurred when FitzSkimmons asked her at the end of the final Transfiguration class before the Hogsmeade weekend.
"Absolutely not, Granger!" she exclaimed sternly when Simmons asked her if they could go now that Mr Black was elsewhere. "The three of you are forbidden from going to Hogsmeade until you serve your detentions for leaving Professor Snape's class without permission earlier this year!"
"By which you really mean, you wouldn't let Harry go even if we did serve detention and Harry's abusive adoptive parents had by some miracle signed the permission slip you were somehow monumentally stupid enough to send to the magic-hating, Harry-hating, fun and having a good time-hating muggles — Right?" replied Simmons coolly.
McGonagall's expression simply turned stoney, answering Simmons' question all they needed, before saying curtly, "Move along. You have class to be getting to."
Disappointed, but unsurprised, FitzSkimmons headed down to lunch, already starting to plan what parts of the castle they were going to explore while everyone else was off at the magical village.
Late Saturday morning, FitzSkimmons were meandering along a third floor corridor, when they heard the twins psst them.
"Not going to Hogsmeade this time?" Simmons asked politely as they stopped next to the statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch that the twins were hiding behind.
"We're about to. We've just come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go," answered Fred, before leading them all into the empty classroom to the left of the statue.
Once inside, George said with a flourish, "Early Christmas present for you!", as Fred pulled something out from inside his cloak.
Laying it on the table, FitzSkimmons saw that it was large, square, very worn piece of parchment, that appeared to be blank.
"Explain," said Simmons.
"This, Hermione, is the secret to our success," answered George, patting the parchment fondly.
"It's a wrench, giving it to you, truly, but we decided last night, your need's greater than ours," added Fred.
"Anyway, we know it by heart, so we decided it was time to pass it on to the next generation, since we won't always be here," continued George. "Therefore we bequeath it to you, to make great use of."
"Okay…still not seeing what we're supposed to be doing," answered Fitz.
"Explain, George," said Fred.
In their normal, back and forth FitzSimmons-ing way, the twins told the story of how they had liberated this particular piece of parchment from Filch's office during their first year, and how they had eventually figured out how to work this little magical beauty.
Taking his wand out, George tapped the center of the parchment with the tip of his wand as he said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
And before them lay a perfect map of Hogwarts, complete with named dots showing the active location of everyone and everything inside of Hogwarts grounds.
Pointing at one of the passages on the map that FitzSkimmons couldn't remember having ever been down before, Fred said, "Right into Hogsmeade. There are seven in all. Now, Filch knows about these four" — he pointed them out — "but we're sure we're the only ones who know about these. Don't bother with the one behind the mirror on the fourth floor. We used it until last winter, but it's caved in — completely blocked. And we don't reckon anyone's ever used this one, because the Whomping Willow's planted right over the entrance. But this one here, this one leads right into the cellar of Honeydukes. We've used it loads of times. And as you might've noticed, the entrance is right outside this room, through that one-eyed old crone's hump."
After expounding upon the genius that was the four authors of this map, George said warningly, "Now don't forget to wipe it after you've used it or anyone can read it. Just tap it again and say, 'Mischief managed!' And it'll go blank."
"So, young Harry, Hermione, and Ronna," said Fred, mimicking Percy, "mind you behave yourself."
"See you in Honeydukes," added George, winking, before both of them disappeared out of the room.
FitzSkimmons looked at each other.
"Room?"
"Room."
A few minutes later, they were back inside their married dorms, the map spread out on the table in front of them.
"Impressive gps tracking technology," commented Daisy. "If it weren't such an insane violation of privacy, something like this could be useful at home."
"Think Mr Black could have got in through one of these?" asked Fitz, pointing at the only secret passage that was believed to still be open and usable. "If he came up through one of the ones inside the castle, it would explain how he got up to Gryffindor Tower without going through the Entrance Hall on Halloween, and got back out again."
"But there has to be other ways into the castle besides the main entrance, because Quirrellemort let a troll into to the dungeons our first year, and he certainly didn't bring that through the Entrance Hall," answered Simmons. "And from what the twins said, I'm pretty sure none of these secret entrances are big enough for a troll. Now, that doesn't mean Mr Black didn't get into the castle through one of these entrances, he very well may have — for all we know, he helped write this map, we have no clue, and neither do the twins — but it isn't proof that he did come through one of these ways, either."
They lapsed into silence, all staring at the map, until Daisy finally said, "So…?"
Simmons sighed. "Well, we certainly can't actually use it to get into Hogsmeade like the twins wanted, since Harry's invisibility cloak doesn't really fit three grown adults, small as we may be. As for Mr Black…well, I think we hold off a bit on telling the professors anything, to see if it really seems like he's migrated south for the winter, or if he makes another appearance here at the castle. Because if he really is gone, it doesn't matter if he was getting in through one of these ways or not, he's gone. But if he returns, we should probably do the right thing and inform them of their existence. It's just that I would hate to ruin the twins fun by getting their secret passageway to Hogsmeade blocked off. I imagine it's how they get all the food and drinks for their parties they're always throwing in Gryffindor Tower in the books. Although, you would think someone in Hogsmeade would have got suspicious by now when the twins keep showing up to buy stuff on non-Hogsmeade weekends, but whatever. If we don't have to close their secret passage, I say we don't."
FitzSkimmons kept a close ear out for any news that Mr Black had tried to get back into the castle, but Christmas morning arrived without any new excitement occurring in the castle.
After thoroughly waking each other up, FitzSkimmons walked out into their common room to find a pile of presents under the Christmas tree that the house elves had set up by the fire while they were asleep one night a week or so before. Quickly beginning to open them, Fitz soon ran across a package with no label as to who it was from. Carefully opening it up, he found a box of snitches, and a note that simply read, 'For Crookshanks to play with'.
He immediately showed his wives.
"That's odd," said Simmons, looking over the box. "Does someone think you still play quidditch, and wanted to give you something to practice with? But why wouldn't they say who they are? And saying they're for our kneazle?"
"Could it be someone who thinks Harry still plays quidditch, who's trying to off him?" suggested Daisy. "Cursed snitches that, oh I don't know, chase you around and flutter your eyes out or something? And the Crookshanks bit is just to make them seem more innocent and less likely that Harry would question it before opening them?"
"It's possible, and thinking Harry still plays quidditch would make sense if it's someone not in the castle," answered Simmons. "Though snitches seem an odd way to carry out an assassination, although I guess it would be a pretty guaranteed way to get book-Harry to mess with them. I guess we should get Professor Flitwick to check over them for curses just to be safe. We can ask him at breakfast."
"I agree with that, but how could someone outside the castle know we have Crookshanks, and his name?" asked Fitz. "Or anyone inside the castle, for that matter? We've never told anyone about Crooks, so the only person in the world who should know we have him should be the saleswitch in Magical Menagerie who sold him to us. But why wouldn't she say they were from her?"
"I don't know, Fitz, I don't know," sighed Simmons. "We'll just have to see what Professor Flitwick says after he's taken a look at them."
Once they finished opening the rest of their presents, they headed downstairs for breakfast, after which they explained to Professor Flitwick about Harry's unusual Christmas gift. He promised to immediately go check it for jinxes, and hopefully have it back to them by lunch.
When they did return to the castle for lunch after a pleasant, and snog-filled hike through the snow around the Black Lake, they found Professor Flitwick waiting for them with the box of snitches.
"They seem completely fine to me," he said. "Apparently someone really likes your cat. Hope he enjoys them."
Thanking him for his help, FitzSkimmons joined him with everyone else in the Great Hall for lunch, before returning to their common room to let a few snitches fly free for Crookshanks to play with for the rest of the afternoon.
That evening, FitzSkimmons were relaxing on their couch in front of the fireplace, dozing off, when Fitz wormed his way out from between his wives to go use the bathroom.
He carefully stepped over Crookshanks, who was taking up far more of the rug in front of the fireplace than any single kneazle had the right or physics to do, seemingly melted in front of the fire, all tired out from a long afternoon of chasing the snitches Sirius had had the decency of actually sending him for Christmas after telling the animagus that he wanted some. But as Fitz stepped into the bathroom, instead of actually finding himself in the married dorms bathroom like he expected, he found himself stepping into the hallway from their room in the Shield base. After a quick moment to collect his bearings, he quickly hurried off to see if Jemma and Daisy had returned to their lunch he'd been going to meet them for, as well.
Walking into the Shield kitchen a minute later, he found his wives sitting at the table, blinking their eyes as if they'd just woken up.
"You're here," Fitz said with relief, taking the seat next to them.
"Uh, yeah — it was just Christmas there, wasn't it?" replied Simmons. "I didn't get petrified or something like Hermione did second year and miss the entire spring term, did I?"
"No, no, we were on the couch in front of the fire, Christmas night, I think you two had actually dozed off, but I had to get up to use the loo," answered Fitz. "But as soon as I walked into the bathroom, I walked out of our room like I'd meant to at the start of this year, to come meet you here right now."
"So how did we come back early this year?" asked Daisy. "It's always been the barrier after the train the two previous times."
"I don't know," answered Simmons. "We did wonder if the 0-8-4 was decaying slightly, since it sent us here without any of us touching it."
"Or maybe we just changed everything so much that nothing else in the book the 0-8-4 is based on was going to occur, so the 0-8-4 got the blue screen of death and crashed, chucking us back to the real world," suggested Fitz. "I mean, think about the third book now that we can. In our version, Pettigrew was dead since Crooks ate Ronna's rat on day one; Mr Black was no longer trying to get into the castle — maybe because he somehow heard that Pettigrew, his real target, was already dead — so none of Crookshanks taking Neville's password list to Mr Black would occur; I don't play quidditch; we weren't trying to sneak into Hogsmeade; and apparently saving Malfoy kept him from wanting to kill Buckbeak, so none of that was going to happen, either. And there was no way the final confrontation with Mr Black, Lupin, Snape, and the dementors was ever going to happen for us."
"And Trelawney couldn't make the prediction about Pettigrew going to rejoin Riddle since Pettigrew was cat num-nums," added Daisy. "You know what, Fitzy might actually be right. The entire plot for the second half of the year was basically eliminated by everything we did in the first half of the year. We really might have crashed the program."
"Other than half a year less of learning, I guess it's really not too bad that we came back early," said Simmons.
"Only you two think that's a bad thing," replied Daisy, rolling her eyes at her wife. "But I will kind of miss the free vacation with all the sex with you guys a girl could possibly want, and not having to worry about saving the world every other Tuesday tea time — at least until we get sent back for our fourth year."
"And I already revealed that Lupin is a werewolf, as well," said Simmons, still thinking over the changes they had made in comparison to the book. "Plus, we learned the Patronus Charm early on instead of second term, Snape would have no reason to want to fail us like he did Harry in the book, and given our propensity to tell the professors where they can shove it when they're wrong, we never win the House Cup like our characters always do."
"What about Sirius sending Ron a pig?" asked Daisy. "He never sent Ronna one after he stopped trying to get into the castle. And Harry's permission form for next year's Hogsmeade."
"Mr Black only sent Pigwidgeon to make up for losing Ron his rat," answered Simmons. "Which while that technically still happened, I think it's relatively safe to say that Mr Black would only do that after proving to Ron that he was innocent and Pettigrew was evil. In our case, we never knew the rat was Pettigrew, or that Mr Black was innocent, and he would have no reason to believe we would know that. And as for Harry's permission slip, not even Dumbledore knew Mr Black was innocent in our timeline to accept a permission slip signed by Mr Black, or to let Harry go to Hogsmeade at all with Mr Black still guilty and on the run in everyone else's eyes. And that part doesn't make any sense anyway, because where did he get a permission slip from to sign and send to Harry? Unless Dumbledore gave him one when they talked and Mr Black told him about them becoming animagi, since Dumbledore presumably knew that Sirius was Harry's godfather, and therefore wizarding world guardian with the authority to sign said permission form."
"And Sirius only offered to let Harry come live with him once he thought his name was going to be cleared, so that wouldn't happen in our timeline, either," added Fitz. "So there really is nothing left in the books that would have happened to us."
"I think you're right, Fitzy — or best as we can guess, anyway," said Daisy. "I think we really did fry the 0-8-4 this year."