In early March, FitzSkimmons were eating supper in the Great Hall when they heard a woman scream in the Entrance Hall just outside.

Looking at each other curiously, they waited until most of the rest of the Great Hall had already stampeded out to go see what was going on, before standing up themselves and following along behind them. Reaching the door between the Great Hall and the Entrance Hall, they leaned against the doorframe to watch Umbridge and Trelawney debate over whether Umbridge was really sacking Trelawney. Of course, as Umbridge was the one with the sheet of paper she'd probably written herself, and then had Fudge sign for her, that said she had the authority to fire teachers who 'weren't up to snuff' — aka she personally disliked and we're easier targets than those such as Professor McGonagall or Professor Flitwick — the government hag eventually won out.

But her victory was to be relatively short-lived, as just as she'd delivered the final death-blow on Trelawney's teaching career, Dumbledore walked in from the outside of the castle, and informed Umbridge that she was not, in fact, kicking Trelawney out of the castle like she thought, that the fraud would be remaining firmly in place, because Umbridge only had the self-granted authority to relieve Trelawney of her teaching responsibilities and corresponding pay, not remove her from the premises entirely.

Of course, Umbridge countered that with the fact that her new appointee to the position would need Trelawney's lodgings, but Dumbledore parried by announcing that he already had a new teacher lined up, ready to go, and signed on the dotted line, before proceeding to introduce a centaur that Fitz remembered upon seeing the creature that Harry had met once first year during his excursion to the Forbidden Forest, and Daisy and Simmons remembered Harry having met as soon as they heard his name. Umbridge briefly tried bluffing that Dumbledore couldn't appoint his own professors at his own school, before being quickly called out on it as Dumbledore reminded her that under the 22nd case of Ministry ED, government bureaucrats could only appoint professors if the headmaster couldn't find a suitable applicant within twenty-four hours — and he'd done so in under an hour. Which did make FitzSkimmons mildly curious for a moment as to how Dumbledore had learned of Trelawney's sacking before it actually took place, in order to have a professor already lined up to take the job before Umbridge could even remove Trelawney from the castle.

To say that Umbridge was displeased at this move would have been a great disservice to the word 'displeased'. She was furious. Irate. Nearly as upset at Dumbledore for undercutting her grand schemes as Snape was at Harry Potter on a weekly basis for simply having the nerve to be alive when Harry's mum wasn't.

But while it was possible there could be more ED in the near future, at the moment there was nothing she could do about it, and firing the centaur on the spot without him having taught a single lesson was too risky of a move to make at the moment, outnumbered by teachers who already hated her guts, and just might finally grow enough of a spine to remove her the permanent way if she tried pulling off such a stunt. So with a final glare at everyone for having the nerve to not be Ministry sheep, and an extra glare at Dumbledore for good measure, she stalked off towards her office to fume and demand more power from Fudge. Everyone else took this as their cue to return to eating, or continue walking wherever they had been heading before the excitement began, and the crowds quickly dispersed, including FitzSkimmons back to their seats to finish up their supper Umbridge had so rudely interrupted.

~FSK~

As spring passed on, FitzSkimmons continued studying offensive magical spells, to counteract the brainwashing Umbridge was trying to perform on them in Defenseless Against the Dark Arts class.

Fitz and Daisy were stretched out on their common room couch one evening, mostly reading but also occasionally sneaking in kisses when they thought Simmons was too absorbed in the book she was reading over at the table to notice them, when suddenly the English wife let out a small gasp.

"Jemma?" said Daisy.

"We've been learning all these different spells, and not once have we considered thinking about how we cast them!" Simmons replied excitedly, walking over to the back of the couch to look down at her spouses.

"And that would be?" asked Fitz, when it became apparent that their wife wanted a build up.

"Casting them silently!" answered Simmons. "It's called nonverbal spell casting, and well — it's exactly like it sounds. You do everything normal with your wand, but instead of saying the incantation of the spell out loud, you just say it in your mind."

"Making it much more difficult for your opponent to know what spell they're having to try to block, or exactly when it's coming," said Daisy, nodding her head in understanding.

"But why doesn't everyone do it all the time?" asked Fitz.

"Well, this book says it's quite difficult, that a lot of wizards never really master it, but we kind of excel at the impossible. So I think it's at least worth giving a try," answered Simmons.

"Absolutely," replied Daisy. "So does the book give any tips on how to do it?"

Over the next several weeks, FitzSkimmons redirected their attention from learning new weaponizable spells, to learning how to cast all the spells they already new silently. Even for them it was a difficult process, and there were many nights of Scottish grumpiness and sullen Daisyness, but slowly they increased their arsenal of spells that they could perform nonverbally, until eventually they had caught up with where their verbal spells were. They refrained from using them in any of their classes, not knowing how the professors would react to them performing magic that hadn't been taught in class yet, but any magic that they were doing on their own, they tried their best to always do nonverbally so that it would become second nature for them.

At the end of the Easter holes, a plethora of pamphlets showed up on FitzSkimmons' common room table one day, along with a notice on their noticeboard that they had career advice counselings with Head of House McGonagall over the upcoming week.

Seeing that Harry's session was first out of their three characters — Monday at 14:00 — they immediately picked that one to go to together to get it over with as quickly as possible, as they already had careers and didn't need new ones, despite a certain 0-8-4's apparent belief that they did in the form of being students again for seven years. Once that was instantaneously settled, they turned to the more pressing matter of what they were going to tell Professor McGonagall that they wanted to do with their lives, since 'go back to our real lives and resume being Shield Agent superheroes' clearly wasn't going to fly.

"How about I say that I want to be a magical architect, you go with magizoologist, and Daisy goes with something like muggle technology integration specialist," suggested Fitz. "Those are about the closest comparisons I think we can get to engineer, biochemist, and hacker, especially since wizards don't seem to have ever even heard of computers before, and certainly wouldn't know what hacking is."

"Normally I would say that's fine, but honestly I think we should go with something completely dry that Umbridge, if she hears about it, which given her stalker-like obsession with Harry probably will at least for him, can't have any possible complaints against, or think is a stepping stone or gateway career for overthrowing the Ministry," replied Simmons. "Something like…ooh! I know! An ice cream shoppe! We'll say we want to be private business owners, and open our own ice cream shop in Hogsmeade to offer a snack alternative to the Three Broomsticks and the Hogs Head Inn. Students would flock there, same as they do Honeydukes sweet shop, and it will be hard for Umbridge to accuse Harry of insurrection and terrorism from a frozen delicacy stand."

So Monday morning, they headed into their day all ready to have their careers advised. But first, they had to make it through Potions, which could still be hit or miss despite the fact that they were hands down the three best students in the class.

When the end of the lesson came, Fitz scooped some of his flawless potion into a flask and took it up to Snape's desk with everyone else. But just as he'd turned away from setting his flask down in the center of Snape's desk, he heard a smashing sound and Malfoy give a maniacal yell of laughter. Figuring based on Malfoy's reaction that it was probably his flask that had somehow found its way down to the floor, almost guaranteedly not without assistance, he casually turned around. Like expected, his flask lay in pieces on the floor in a puddle of invigoration draught, and Snape was leering at him like nothing could have made his day better.

"Whoops," he said maliciously. "A zero, then, Potter."

Fitz looked down at the broken flask curiously, as if contemplating how it could have got down there, knowing Snape and Malfoy were watching him for his reaction. After several seconds, Fitz calmly pulled out his wand and said, "Evanesco", vanishing the flask and potion.

Looking back up at Snape, he said, "You know, you really shouldn't leave broken glass and liquids lying around — terrible lab safety." Pausing for a second, he suddenly continued as if just realizing it, "Oh, and since you're clearly looking for a reaction to getting a zero on this assignment — well, well, well would you look at that. It's OWL year. It doesn't matter how poor of a grade I get from you, because as long as I get my O on the OWL exam, I'll still pass and you'll still have to see my smiling face next year. Ain't…that…just…a bitch."

"And so you're not lying awake all night wondering if your potion was good or not since it won't be graded, I can tell you right now that it was absolutely perfect, since it was exactly like mine, and mine are always perfect, five years running," came Simmons' voice in a very superior tone from right behind him, having walked up behind him unnoticed. Though it seemed to be directed at Fitz, it was really for Snape and Malfoy's benefits, as Fitz already knew that his potion was good, and certainly wasn't going to lying awake at night wondering about it.

As Snape and Malfoy stared at her audacity in shock, Daisy walked up to join in on the fun. She didn't know exactly what her husband would do with this particular piece of information, but whatever route he chose could have some good results, so she casually said, "You know, Harry, you've still got a full cauldron of potion at our desk."

"You know what — you're right!" exclaimed Fitz, as if he'd completely forgotten about that.

Turning around, he strode purposefully towards their desk, like he was going to fill another flask and force Snape to mark it, but as soon as he got to his cauldron, he pointed his wand at it and said in a loud enough voice that he knew it would carry back to Snape and Malfoy, "Evanesco."

Looking back over at Snape, he said dryly, "Oops. Wrong spell."

~FSK~

At 14:00, FitzSkimmons walked into Professor McGonagall's office to discuss their futures that definitely weren't going to occur.

As they all three walked in together, Simmons briefly caught a flicker of surprise and the burning need to tell them that they couldn't be advised at the same time grace Professor McGonagall's visage, before the stern woman quickly schooled it and acted like she'd expected all three of them at the same time, saying, "Potter, Granger, Weasley, please sit down."

Simmons wondered what that was all about, having expected something closer to a kockdown dragout to force McGonagall to advise them together, until a moment later when she heard a spine-tingling sniffle from behind them in the corner that could only mean that Umbridge was there as well. So that was why Professor McGonagall hadn't put up a fight — she didn't want the Umbitch to know that they weren't actually all three supposed to be there, togethersies.

"This meeting is to talk over any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide which subjects you should continue into the sixth and seventh years," said Professor McGonagall once they were seated. "Have you had any thoughts about what you would like to do after you leave Hogwarts?"

"We thought we might open an ice cream shoppe together, maybe in Hogsmeade," answered Simmons. "Something like Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor in Diagon Alley."

Professor McGonagall waited patiently a second, clearly expecting more, before realizing that that was all they intended to say, and assuming a look of shock.

"But you are the class leaders in ten subjects!" she finally managed to exclaim in disbelief. "You could go on to be anything!"

"And we want to be private business owners," Fitz answered calmly. "Specifically in the area of selling frozen desserts based off of cream."

"Fabulous Frozen Frolics, maybe," added Daisy. "And we'd probably sell pastries and cookies, too — if I didn't eat them all before they made it out to the display — that could be a problem."

"It really could be," Simmons muttered under her breath. "Both of you."

Behind them, Professor Umbridge gave a very tiny cough, as though she was trying to see how quietly she could do it, but Professor McGonagall completely ignored her, asking FitzSkimmons, "You'll want to know which subjects you ought to take, I suppose?"

Daisy really wanted to retort, 'No thanks, we'd prefer just randomly selecting some classes to continue with in hopes they work out later — you know, a lot like second year when we were told to choose additional classes, without telling us what they fuck they really are or which ones would be useful for what', but she held her tongue, knowing better than to give the bitch behind them any ammunition.

Instead, they all just stared at her like she was an idiot for even asking such a stupid question, when the literal definition of career advice meant telling them which subjects they ought to take.

After several seconds of getting no verbal response, McGonagall finally said, "Well, this is certainly an unusual career choice to see. Most students are looking to join the Ministry, Gringotts, or St Mungo's, or else are related to someone who owns a shop in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade and have already arranged to go into the family business, but —"

Here she was interrupted by yet another of Umbridge's infuriating fake coughs.

"May I offer you a cough drop, Dolores?" Professor McGonagall said curtly to the waste of space.

"Oh, no, thank you very much," simpered Umbridge. "I just wondered whether I could make the teensiest interruption, Minerva?"

"I daresay you'll find that you can," replied Professor McGonagall through tightly gritted teeth.

"I was just wondering whether Potter has quite the temperament to be dealing with people," said Umbridge sickeningly sweetly. "He has been known to perform illegal, dangerous acts of magic in front of innocent bystanders."

FitzSkimmons thought that an awfully odd, and certainly potentially misleading way of saying that Harry had saved not only his life, but the life of his cousin as well, from two dementors who were trying to kill them, but to each witch her own — to-may-to, piece-of-dragon-dung, and all that.

Professor McGonagall merely said, "Were you?", before continuing on to FitzSkimmons, "While this may be your ambition, I would still suggest taking several NEWTs, in case that doesn't work out for you or you decide that you want to do something different. Potter, Weasley, most of your grades have been fairly good over the past few years, and I must say I am extremely pleased with your grades this year. And Granger—"

"Oh, we'll still take all ten NEWTs after we get O's on all ten OWLs, of course, just because we like learning," interrupted Simmons. "But we're quite sure that we want to go into the private sector after we graduate, regardless of the exact market."

"Oh — of course. Then, well, I suppose you'll be as prepared as Hogwarts can prepare you to —"

But she was interrupted by Umbridge forgoing the cough entirely this time and saying coldly, "I think you'll find that the Ministry looks into the records of those applying for business licenses — their criminal records. And the Ministry will never approve a license for Potter."

So before Professor McGonagall could reply and potentially get herself into trouble, Daisy quickly said, "Then we'll move to America — their permitting process is much more lenient. They're more along the lines of, 'Hey, I have some apples, would you like to buy them?' — 'Yes! Thank you!'. That's as complicated as it should be to open a business."

Umbridge stared at her in shock, clearly never having even considered that possibility.

"But-we'll-I'll — I'll have the Minister tell the United State's Ministry that you're a criminal!" she finally stuttered out.

"But don't you get it?" replied Daisy. "We don't have to ask them for permission to open an ice cream store — we can just buy property and do it."

She knew she was bluffing, and that FitzSimmons would probably know that she was bluffing as well, but it was highly, highly unlikely that Umbridge would, dyed-in-the-wool British Ministry worshiper who'd never considered looking beyond the borders of the country she was born into. And it seemed that Daisy was right. Umbridge just stared at her, clearly clueless as to what she was supposed to say to that, how she was supposed to ruin Potter's life with her control of the Ministry when he could just walk out of the country and into one that didn't care about her Ministry, hadn't for two hundred and twenty years, and that Harry Potter would even be okay with leaving the perfect land of Britain in the first place.

Finally, after several seconds of complete silence in the room, Professor McGonagall said, "Potter, Granger, Weasley, I believe that concludes our careers consultation. You are free to go."

Umbridge was apparently still so shocked that she didn't even try to hold them back as they stood up and left Professor McGonagall's office.

Once they were outside and on their way to the library to kill time before Defenseless Against the Dark Arts class, Simmons asked Daisy, "America's not actually that easy to open a business, is it?"

"Sadly, no," answered Daisy. "Although your more free states like Texas might be relatively close. But Umbridge doesn't have clue whether it's that easy or not, it should be that easy, for all we know in the wizarding world in America it is that easy, and most importantly, it was just too good of a quote to pass up. Nothing better than Ron 'Fucking' Swanson."

At the end of June, OWL exams finally started.

For FitzSkimmons, though probably not for anyone else taking their OWLs or NEWTs, the wait really was worse than the actual thing, especially having to listen to everyone having a measuring contest over who was studying the most. One of the worsts was the Hufflepuff prefect Macmillan, who'd developed the punch-worthy habit of getting into people's faces and interrogating them about their revision practices.

So when one day a short while before exams he assaulted FitzSkimmons as they stood lined up outside Herbology waiting for class to start and demanded with a manic gleam in his eyes, "How many hours d'you think you're doing a day?", Daisy looked at him boredly and said, "Hours of what? Daydreaming about all the inappropriate things I'd like to be doing to my better halves instead of trying to memorize dates about quite frankly unimportant goblin skirmishes?"

"Hours of revising!" shouted Macmillan, clearly well on his way to the crazy train, if not already driving it himself, and completely missing both Daisy's obvious indifference and her very thinly veiled reference to sex. "I'm doing eight. Eight or nine. I'm getting an hour in before breakfast every day. Eight's my average. I can do ten on a good weekend day. I did nine and a half on Monday. Not so good on Tuesday — only seven and a quarter. Then on Wednesday —"

"Oh," interrupted Daisy, before he talked their ears quite literally off — as physically impossible as Simmons might insist that was. "Uh...I think I studied once last week — can't really remember, to be honest."

Macmillan's face twisted up in such a way that FitzSkimmons were momentarily concerned that he might literally blow a gasket in his head, but thankfully before he could, Professor Sprout opened the door to greenhouse three and ushered them all in, distracting him from blowing his brain up in disbelief.

Malfoy, however, had found a different, and much more malicious way of inducing panic.

"Of course, it's not what you know, it's who you know," they frequently heard him telling Crabbe and Goyle as loudly as possible all over the school in the week leading up to the start of exams. "Now, Father's been friendly with the head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority for years — old Griselda Marchbanks — we've had her round for dinner and everything."

"If that is actually true, it's no wonder that it's such an advantage to be a pureblood in this world," Simmons said quietly to her spouses after hearing him say this for the umpteenth time. "I mean, I don't believe Malfoy for a second, he's an arse, and it would be criminally unfair if that actually was the case, but if it was about who you knew in important positions like he's been saying, obviously all of the purebloods know more powerful people, because it's mostly purebloods in all of the important positions, and they all know each other — whereas especially muggleborns know no one, because they're first generation wizards. Now, it's always seemed like this world was biased towards purebloods and against muggleborns for that very reason, because most of the purebloods in authority only hire fellow purebloods to work for them and eventually replace them, resulting in a never ending cycle of only purebloods being in power, but even so I wasn't under the impression that the grades themselves were biased in the same way."

"Shouldn't grades, especially standardized ones like this, be done using something like the Goblet from last year?" asked Daisy. "I mean, we know this world has magic that at least supposedly can pick the most qualified person for a set of tasks, it sure seems like that can't be too far off magic that can grade how right and wrong an expository answer is. And then obviously things like true or false, multiple choice, name the spell that does such and such, or name the incantation and wand movement of this spell, are just straight up right or wrong answers — they'd just flat out not be grading them if they gave Malfoy more points for giving the same answer as Hermione. Tests would be meaningless and it would simply be, we like you so you pass, we don't like you so you don't. Tests would just be a cover so people wouldn't question what was really going on."

"The second part's true, and I don't think they would be grading straight up black and white answers differently, it'd only be questions that were on a scale if this was based on who you know," answered Simmons. "But as for the first part — the goblet part — you're being logical again, Daisy. You've got to think like witches. And it's honestly completely possible that it has never once crossed a single one of their minds to create a chalice to grade OWL and NEWT exams like the Goblet grades TriWizard entrants."

~FSK~

FitzSkimmons' first exam was Charms, written in the morning and practical in the afternoon.

Fitz had just finished up his practical section, when the examiner he was with said, "Well, I think that's all, Potter...unless...I heard, from my dear friend Tiberius Ogden, that you can produce a Patronus? For a bonus point…?"

Fitz flicked his wand lazily, a silver monkey erupting out of the end and scampering about the room, eventually settling on climbing the walls up to the enchanted ceiling before dissipating into nothingness. As he left the Great Hall a minute later after being dismissed, he could feel everyone in room still staring at him in disbelief, but none more so that Umbridge, who was standing beside the door into the Entrance Hall watching the exams. As he passed by her, he inwardly smirked at the look of complete shock on her wide, slack mouth, the hag having clearly expected a much different patronus, and having no clue how to handle it.

But who did know how to handle things was FitzSkimmons, and what they knew how to handle was taking their OWLs. All that week they breezed through their tests, even Daisy confident and relaxed. But they were all actual, literal geniuses taking high school exams, after FitzSimmons having earned two doctorates apiece plus graduated Shield Academy in 2 years, and Daisy teaching herself to be one of the greatest hackers of all time. In fact, the hardest part about their Potions exam on the Monday morning of the second week of exams was not informing the examiners of just what polyjuice potion could really be used for if one were creative and so inclined.

But overall, their exams were quite easy, and finally the last examination of the year was upon them. It was History of Magic, a test that was nearly, though not quite, as sleep-inducing as Binns' lectures on the subject, when midway through, Fitz was minding his own business answering long, detailed, boring, nitpicky questions that had nothing to do with Grindelwald or Riddle, when Harry decided to up and have a vision on him, right in the middle of an exam.

But remembering Simmons' admonition the last time Harry had started having a vision, Fitz quickly focused all of his attention on remembering every single tiny detail even vaguely connected or not to the exam question he was answering at the moment, and blocked out completely the youtube video Riddle had emailed Harry that Harry was trying to pull up in his half of the brain instead of focusing on the test like he was supposed to. Just like before, he was quickly able to shut it down, though unlike before when he was able to just completely lose himself in Daisy and later Simmons, this time he had to keep a steady pressure on Harry not to try to pull it up again. It felt like the desire to have the vision lasted forever and ever, certainly much longer than it had the other time, though admittedly he'd completely forgotten about it within seconds the previous time so he didn't really have anything to compare it too, but finally, just before the lead examiner told them that time was up and to put down their quills, it went away.

Walking outside with Daisy and Simmons a few minutes later to take a stroll around the lake now that they were finally free, Fitz said, "Harry tried having a vision during the test. I shut it down of course, but it probably means that Harry's going to fail his History of Magic OWL, which is one guaranteed challenge we'll face forcing them to let us take all ten of our classes again next year."

"I figure we'll have a lot more challenges than just that, to be honest," said Daisy. "Especially from Ron, who studies approximately as hard as a flobberworm bites. And that's not to mention the fact that we're going to have to convince the powers that be to let us takes NEWTs on two subjects our characters didn't take the OWLs for."

"We'll make it," said Simmons. "Surely convincing them that we're smart enough to take all ten classes can't be as hard as all the world-ending events we deal with on a yearly bases."

"Have you met Professor McGonagall?"

Late that evening, as FitzSkimmons finally settled into sleep after thoroughly and nakedly celebrating the end of exams, Malfoy Senior and several of his pals and best buds were beginning to get impatient, and more than a little concerned.

They were waiting in the Hall of Prophecies for Harry Potter to show up to save a Mrs Weasley who certainly wasn't there and certainly wasn't being tortured by their Master, but they'd been there for quite some time, and the boy hero still had yet to even break their wards they had set around the Ministry of Magic perimeter to alert them to his arrival. The Dark Lord had promised them that as soon as the boy saw the vision he'd sent him of torturing and promising to kill Mrs Weasley, the mother he'd never had who he spent a good bit of every summer with, much like he'd already killed Mr Weasley, Harry would rush down to London as quickly as he possibly could to save her, and once he discovered that she wasn't actually being tortured at the end of row ninety-seven, would be drawn to the orb that contained the prophecy, and being the curious and uninformed boy he was, he'd pick it up like the Dark Lord needed him to. Then Malfoy and his posse could apparate out of the shadows and relieve Potter of the prophecy for the Dark Lord.

But it was already well past midnight, and still there was no heroic Harry Potter come to save the day.

The Dark Lord had said that he was going to send the boy the fake vision during the afternoon, sometime around his last class of the year or so, so he could immediately jump up and find a way to travel down to London to be the Big Damn Hero. But the Dark Lord hadn't told them how long they were supposed to wait if he never showed up. And Malfoy knew if someone didn't give Bella something to kill soon, she was going to turn on them — the woman really wasn't picky on who she tortured and killed. But just as he was contemplating which of his fellow Death Eaters it would be best to suggest to her might be having an ill thought against their Master, the marks on all of their arms suddenly seared, calling them home.

Fortunately, the Dark Lord didn't — for the moment, at least — hold Harry's persistence of absence against them, instead informing them that they would try the plan again the following afternoon, that it was bound to work once Potter saw that he was still torturing Mrs Weasley and was still going to kill her in the end.

~FSK~

Five days later, midway through the final week Hogwarts was to have students in it that school year, FitzSkimmons walked up to where Dumbledore was sitting at the Head Table chatting away amicably with Professor McGonagall.

For some strange reason, as soon as Dumbledore saw Fitz approaching him, he started examining his own interlocked fingers like he was a high school girl looking for blemishes in her perfect, brand new nail polish, but Simmons shook this oddity off for the moment to say to him, "Dumbledore, Sir — Harry keeps trying to have visions. He of course keeps blocking them out with occlumency like Snape taught us to, so we don't know what they are about, but he keeps having them every afternoon since last Thursday. We just thought you might like to know. If they're still from Riddle, he might be up to something."

"Five days you say? He is persistent, I have to give him that," replied Dumbledore as much to himself as to FitzSkimmons or Professor McGonagall, still not looking up. "Well, thank you for letting me know, and I'm glad you're able to block them out, Harry. Please continue to do so, it is for your own good. But if that is all, I really must get back to work."

And with that he stood up, still never even glancing in Fitz's direction accidentally, and left the Great Hall presumably headed up to his office.

"Think he's got some idea what my visions are and is going to do something to stop whatever it is I'm not seeing?" asked Fitz as they walked out onto the grounds a few minutes later.

"And what was up with him refusing to look at Fitz? — or Harry, as I guess would be better assumed," asked Daisy. "Because I know avoiding looking at someone, and for numerous reasons, and he definitely was. Though in my professional avoiding-looking-at-people opinion, it didn't look like any of the popular reasons for refusing to look at someone, so I'm stuck on any guesses about the why."

"You know, he's been avoiding looking at Harry all year," replied Fitz. "He never looked at Harry at the trial or spoke to him, he never said hi to Harry the few times he visited Grimmauld Place — which in and of itself is nothing odd, but when added to everything else it seems worth mentioning — he never looked at me right before Christmas when Professor McGonagall took us to his office, and while also not unusual in it's own right, we've had zero contact with him all year other than that one instance. Of course, that last one might not be enough to include since we generally avoid seeing him much better than our character counterparts anyway, but even with just the other ones, it definitely does seem like Dumbledore is avoiding Harry for some reason or another."

"You're definitely both right, though I've no clue what it could mean," said Simmons. "But I guess we'll remember in a couple days when we get back home, because this should still be in the book."

"Good thing we don't care about this world, or we could be tempted to waste time trying to figure out why he's avoiding us instead of snogging behind rocks on the far side of the lake," smirked Daisy, before skipping off ahead of them towards the lake and the trail that ran around it.

~FSK~

Ever since classes had ended, and Umbridge had had much less opportunity to boss everyone around since there were no more classes and less excuses to punish people, the hag had been much less visible around the school.

She was still occasionally seen prowling the halls on the lookout for anyone who looked like they might not have a properly negative opinion of Dumbledore and everyone who believed him, but as everyone was pretty much keeping to themselves and their friends waiting for Train Day to arrive, and there was no late homework or talking in class to give cruel and unusual punishments for, she no longer seemed to really enjoy being at Hogwarts, and had mostly taken to hiding away in her office.

But FitzSkimmons certainly weren't complaining, as they highly doubted that she would allow Potter to kiss even a single girl in a slightly public location without giving him detention for the rest of his life after she'd thrown him in Azkaban, and who knew what she'd do if she were to catch him heavily snogging two girls who were known Dumbledore sympathizers. And heaven forbid she ever catch them doing anything more than some light groping — the entire wizarding world might explode. Though in truth, they'd never done anything beyond snogging and groping outside of their private married dorm, as they weren't interested in anyone catching them having fun.

In fact, other than Umbridge leaving the school entirely, FitzSkimmons couldn't think of anything better than Umbridge finally leaving everyone alone. Well, they could think of one thing better, at least for themselves — and that was Train Day finally arriving to take them back to their own world.

When that day did finally arrive, in the afternoon they found themselves sitting in a compartment all to themselves, warm summer sunshine flooding in through the window, making them all rather sleepy cuddled up together on one bench reading. And before they knew it, they had fallen asleep to the steady noise of the train running down its tracks.

~FSK~

When Fitz awoke from his nap, he felt the press of feminine, and definitely naked, bodies on both sides of him.

Slowly opening his eyes, he saw not the very familiar by that point ceiling of the married dorms at Hogwarts, but the other familiar ceiling of their room in the Shield base. But before he could do more than realize that they were back home again after falling asleep on the Hogwarts Express, he felt his younger wife lazily stretch her arm over his stomach and land on his English wife's side, where she was still curled into his side with her head resting on his shoulder as her pillow.

"Morning, ladies," he said softly. "We seem to be back where we belong."

Reaching across Fitz to poke Daisy in the collarbone to make the younger girl stop kneading the side of her breast that early in the morning, Simmons said, "We seem to be. Apparently falling asleep on the train is as good as walking through the barrier."

"Or falling asleep on the couch Christmas evening, or stumbling back into this world when the Express came to a screeching halt," said Daisy, sliding her hand down Simmons' side to her arse and beginning to grope it.

"Good point — our method of getting back into this world seems to keep changing slightly as the 0-8-4 weakens," replied Simmons. "And I wasn't poking you to make you change what part of my body you were groping, I was poking you to make you stop."

"But I'm horny," whined Daisy.

"You're always horny in the morning," chuckled Fitz, subtly sliding both of his hands over his girls' hips to sneak between their legs.

"Like you aren't — my arm is brushing up against just how interested you are," smirked Daisy, before giving a gasp as Fitz's finger brushed lightly across her clit on the way to her pussy.

"I'm not going to be able to avoid a shagging this morning, am I?" sighed Simmons from Fitz's other side as she pulled his head over to give him a kiss.

"I sure hope not," Fitz smiled into the kiss. "Anyway, we need to celebrate making it safely through another year of Hogwarts. Wouldn't you agree?"