Friday morning FitzSimmons were standing out in the courtyard glancing through their Potions book before class, when a snowy white owl flew down to them and lit on the stone banister next to where they were standing.
It stuck out its leg, which had piece of parchment tied to it, and looked up at Fitz expectantly. So he untied the letter and took it off, before opening it up for him and Simmons to read. It was an invitation from someone named Hagrid to come have tea with him that afternoon. From the friendly tone and general invitation, it sounded like someone Harry knew.
"Hagrid — that's who Malfoy mentioned as being riffraff," Fitz said, looking at the letter.
"It would be polite for us to go, but we don't know who we're supposed to be well enough to actually talk to someone who knows Harry, maybe even all of Harry's life for all we know. And secondly, this letter says nothing about where we're actually supposed to go for this tea," Simmons replied. "So I suggest we just ignore it, and if this Hagrid person ever calls us out on it pretend like we never got his letter. Also, the owl's name is apparently Hedwig."
As the owl gave a happy hoot at hearing its name, Fitz answered, "Sounds good to me," before shoving the note into his trouser pocket before returning to the potion that they were looking at in their textbook.
And a little while later the bell rang and they descended into the dungeons for their first Potions class, which Simmons especially was looking quite forward to, as it sounded like a rudimentary Chemistry Lab class. But when the dungeon door swung open they saw that it was the professor who had looked like he loathed Harry Potter at the Start-of-Term Feast, and they suddenly became much less sure that they would enjoy the class. The professor ushered them all in to the classroom, before clanging the door shut ominously behind them. It took everything Simmons had to take a seat in the very back corner of the classroom with Fitz instead of looking at all of the preserved specimens in glass jars lining the walls, but she did, Fitz grabbing her hand and pulling her over to a table where two people not named Ronald had already sat down as Simmons had stood taking in all of the biology around her.
Calling out roll, Professor Snape soon reached the name 'Harry Potter', and paused and said in a soft, sarcastic, foreboding tone, "Ah, yes. Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity."
Over at their table Malfoy and his tablemates (including his two bodyguards) sniggered at this, neither them nor Snape apparently thinking that a spell bouncing off of a baby's cranium and making a tyrant disappear should make said baby a celebrity — something that FitzSimmons agreed with wholeheartedly. It was rather absurd that Harry Potter should be turned into a god when he hadn't actually done anything. But such was the ways of society, and hardly Harry Potter's fault to be made fun of by a professor and other students for society's failing to understand who real heroes were. It didn't really matter though, as after giving everyone who wanted to several seconds to ridicule Harry Potter for something that was completely out of Harry's control, like skin color or sex, Professor Snape resumed calling out roll before finally addressing the class as a whole.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
FitzSimmons quirked an eyebrow each at Snape, but otherwise kept to themselves their opinion that the only 'dunderhead' in the room was a 'professor' who called all of his students dunderheads before he had ever met them or taught them a single class, or called them that out loud ever, period. After all, the man already hated Harry Potter before having him in a single class, no reason to antagonize the man any further, and it's not like he was going to stop calling students 'dunderheads' simply because one of them reasonably pointed out that the only 'dunderhead' in the room was in fact him for doing so. He seemed much more the kind to give detention than thanks for having his failings as a human being pointed out to him.
Their thoughts about this were cut short a second later though when Snape suddenly rounded on Fitz and snapped, "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Quickly scrolling through his memory of their Potions book, Fitz answered politely, "I don't know, Sir. There is no potion in the potion book we were told to buy that adds powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood. And that's the only Potions book I've ever seen."
He and Simmons had read all the way through their Potions book earlier in the week, and reread the first dozen potions the night before and that morning in preparation for class, and he was 99.9% sure that none of the potions in their assigned book had wormwood as an ingredient, and 99.99% sure that none of them added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood. A quick glance out of the corner of his eye at Simmons sitting next to him told him that she couldn't remember any such thing either, and if neither of them could remember it from a not particularly long book, it was all but guaranteed not in there. Hermione had bought several more potion books than just the one required, but as they were still trying to catch up to a base level of knowledge for all of their classes, they hadn't yet got to the extra books that Hermione had bought, if any of those did happen to have Screwtape's nephew having asphodel roots added to him in them.
But Snape apparently didn't care that the question that he'd asked couldn't be answered by the book that he had assigned (or the school had assigned for him to teach from), or otherwise was intentionally asking it in an attempt to further degrade Harry Potter and try to make him look like a 'dunderhead' in front of the rest of the class, as he sneered, "Tut, tut — fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
"Once again, Sir, whatever a bezoar is, it's not in the one potion book I own," Fitz answered. "Or any of the other seven books we were assigned by the school for this year, our very first year."
Snape's eyes bored down at him coldly, but Fitz merely looked back into the man's cold, black, Supernatural demon-like eyes indifferently, not caring what the git was trying to do to Harry Potter, as Fitz's self-worth didn't depend on the actions or approval of some vindictive arsehole who had been given a teaching position.
Unlike the first time, Snape apparently couldn't think of anything derogatory to say in response to Fitz pointing out that his question couldn't be answered by anyone at even a first year graduation level, let alone a first year entrance level, as he merely asked with a growl, "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
By this point, Fitz was starting to get a little irritated. He'd already had his suspicions that Snape was only asking Potter questions either because he hated Potter's guts, was a 'celebrity', or both, but three questions that weren't in the first year book was going too far to continue being polite about.
So he replied with little-disguised disgust and no honorary title, "Still not in the first year books."
Snape completely ignored him, saying, "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite."
He paused, looking around the class that he had the full attention of, before snapping, "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
Probably because you never gave us any indication that we should, you arsehole, Fitz thought to himself as he began jotting down short notes on the answers of the three questions that Snape had asked Harry Potter, though he was almost positive that they would never hear about any of them again for the rest of the year, as it wasn't first year material according to their assigned book. And while there should obviously be more material covered in the class than in the book alone, for none of the ingredients to even be mentioned in the book it seemed highly unlikely to Fitz that this would be one of those things.
As everyone was busy writing, Snape sneered gleefully at Fitz, "Ten points will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."
Whoopty-fucking-do, Fitz thought to himself as he waited for everyone else to finish writing and the real lesson to start. My own Head of House is still doing that every day because we refuse to trip over our own clothes and get shot in the back like all of you will if shit ever hits the fan. And she's taken forty from us in a single conversation, and twenty for a single infraction, twice in that single conversation — least you could do is top her record. And what the fuck kind of crime is 'cheek', anyway?
Once the lesson actually started it went well for a while, essentially the primitive lab class with unusual ingredients that they had expected, something FitzSimmons were literally amongst the best in the world at in their world — which based on everything that they had seen so far, might mean that they were quite literally the best in this highly primitive world, even him. Their boil-curing potion that they were making together was coming along quite nicely, and while Snape had spent the entire class sweeping around the room sneering at and making fun of Gryffindor potions and lauding Slytherin potions, regardless of actual quality, he hadn't been able to come up with a single negative thing to say about theirs every time that he had come by to heap verbal abuse upon the round-faced boy from the train sitting across the table from them, whom FitzSimmons were beginning to suspect Snape hated as much as Harry Potter, though they had no clue why.
But all of a sudden, as Fitz was stirring their potion and Simmons was preparing the next to last ingredient to add, there was a loud hissing and a cloud of acid green smoke rose up from the other side of the table that they were sitting at.
"Get out of here!" Simmons shouted at the room as she and Fitz leapt up and ran out of the dungeon into the hallway outside, having seen and heard about far too many lab disasters in their time at Shield and college before that to hang around and see if this one was dangerous or not.
But apparently no one else had ever been taught any basic lab safety protocols, as when Simmons carefully peeked her head back into the room after hearing shouting but no bodies collapsing to the ground and no one else rushing out of the room, she found most people just standing around the dungeon, or standing on their stools. They did however have to step aside a few moments later to let Neville and Seamus pass by them, Neville with boils all over his nose spreading across his face. Content that the danger was over since none of the canaries in the potions lab had sung their last, as soon as Neville and Seamus had passed by them on their way up to the hospital wing, FitzSimmons stepped back into the dungeon.
Just to have Snape round on Fitz and snarl, "You — Potter — why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another ten points you've lost Gryffindor."
Fitz stared at the man in utter shock for a second, before replying coldly, "I didn't tell him because I was busy watching my potion as I stirred it to see when it turned pale blue, so that I could add the squid spleen Hermione was cutting up."
He thought it outright ludicrous that he should be expected to be looking after anyone else's potion but his own, but based on the look of pure hatred that Snape was giving him at the moment, and the fact that the 'professor' would even consider blaming him in the first place, he knew it best not to antagonize the snake by actually saying that out loud. But pointing out that he had been concentrating on his own potion at the time that Neville had made his mistake seemed a safe enough route to go.
Turned out it wasn't.
"Ten more points for talking back to a professor," the Snake snapped, before stalking back up to his desk. Arriving, he turned around to see the class still just kind of standing around aimlessly unsure what to do in a situation like this, and snapped, "Well, what are you waiting on?! Get back to making your potions!"
As they sat back down to finish their potion, FitzSimmons thought it rather brazen of Snape to take points away from Harry Potter for 'talking back to a professor', when it was Snape, and not a professor, whom Fitz had 'talked back' to — ignoring, of course, the minor detail that he hadn't talked back to anyone at all, merely stated a not even accusatory fact — but as it was ten more points to add to the twenty that Snape had already taken away from them that class and ninety that they'd lost from McGonagall that week, bringing the grand total up to one hundred twenty, they certainly weren't about to point it out to Snape, and they didn't care anyway. Simmons briefly considered taking it to Professor McGonagall about Snape's indecent behavior, but as long as it was directed at just them and not any of the innocent children in the class, it didn't yet seem like quite big enough of a deal to go through whatever hassle that would entail, as she had a sneaking suspicion that McGonagall would be more likely to take an additional ten points away from them for not wearing robes to class (as opposed to simply not wearing robes in the castle like she was already doing every morning), than do anything about one of her colleagues blaming another student for one student's mistake.
Fortunately though there were no more incidents in the remaining hour of Potions class, and FitzSimmons were finally able to ascend the stairs to the Great Hall for lunch without Snape doing or saying anything more stupid or cruel to them.
Less fortunate, however, was the presence of a certain redhead who yet again took the seat across from them at the Gryffindor table when they sat down for lunch. And when Ronald launched into yet another discussion about quidditch, like that and wizards chess were the only two subjects he knew how to talk about, after Snape's bullying in Potions that morning Simmons had finally had enough.
"Ronald! Shut up! If you want to sit with us, no more talk about quidditch or chess! School lesson only discussions, unless you have some non-lesson spell that you're trying to learn on your own that you want to tell us about. And when Harry and I are talking to each other, don't interrupt us. Otherwise, sit with someone who cares!"
Ronald stared at Simmons in shock as she low-key glared at him, while Fitz reached over to lightly rub her back to silently tell her that he had her back and was proud of her and to calm her down a little, before the redhead eventually looked over at Fitz and opened his mouth.
But Fitz never let him speak. "Obey the lady — she can make your life a living hell if you don't. And yes, I agree with her completely. We've put up with you hanging on to us, or me we actually suspect, all week, but stop. If you want to genuinely be friends with us you can, but that means taking an interest in what we care about, which is learning. It also means giving us space and not trying to sit next to us every single meal before you're actually friends with us yet. And finally, it means you start treating Hermione with respect, and stop thinking that I may give you a different answer than whatever she said that you didn't like. We do in fact speak for each, and if she says it I'm simultaneously thinking it, so stop turning to me in hopes of a different answer like going to the other parent when the first says no — if you actually have both or any parents, of course. If you don't then that reference probably won't make much sense."
If nothing else their speeches stunned Ronald into silence, as he merely mumbled, "My name is Ron," before falling silent for the rest of lunch. And when FitzSimmons stood up to head out to the lake to read for the rest of the afternoon, he let them go without saying a word.
The following morning, FitzSimmons slept in a little.
It was Saturday, which meant no classes, so like on any other rare occasion when they didn't have to set an alarm and could let their bodies wake up whenever they wanted to, they did. And like all of those other occasions, Simmons woke up horny as hell and woke her husband up with a peppering of kisses. Of course, Fitz had no problem assisting Simmons with her needs, especially as her needs quickly became his needs as well when she stripped off her sleep clothes and cuddled all over him, and so it was rather late when they made it down to breakfast. However, it appeared that everyone else in the castle was taking advantage of the opportunity to sleep in as well (though probably in a much different way except perhaps for some seventh year couples), as the Great Hall was still less than half full when they arrived.
They hadn't been seated and starting to eat for more than a minute when the small giant at the staff table stood up and walked down the length of Gryffindor table to their back corner.
"Harry!" he boomed out as he got near them. "I missed yeh yesterday. Did yeh not get me letter?"
"Uh, must've got lost," Fitz answered, assuming that this must be the letter-sender named Hagrid, and not entirely lying as the letter was lost at the moment somewhere in their piles of schoolwork and books lying scattered about their private dorm room.
"How 'bout comin' by this af'ernoon, then?" Hagrid asked.
"Sorry. We're exploring the castle today," Fitz answered. "I rather expect it to take most of the day."
"Oh. Well come by whenever yeh can, Harry," Hagrid replied, before heading out of the Great Hall looking disappointed.
When he was out of sight and sound, Simmons leaned over to her husband and whispered, "I feel bad for everyone who knows Harry that we're now having to shun. They don't deserve that."
"We have no choice, though," Fitz replied, neither of them having a clue that other than Hagrid who had met Harry once and spent most of a day with him, and Ron on the train for a few hours before FitzSimmons had arrived, no one else in the castle had ever met Harry Potter before the castle, so they actually weren't shunning anyone like they thought they were, not even Ron or Hagrid really. "If he asks us a single question about Harry before coming here, or references a single interaction he's had with Harry, which may have been every other week for the past ten years for all we know, we're screwed. We can't maintain the pretense that I'm Harry Potter if we have any real conversation with someone who knows Harry."
"I know, I know, I just feel bad for them," Simmons sighed. "They deserve better."
"Which is why you're Jemma Anne Simmons, the most amazing person in the world," Fitz replied. "But if it makes you feel any better, no one besides Hagrid has approached us all week like they know us, so we haven't actually shunned anyone except for him so far."
"Now that just makes me wonder if Harry had no friends, at least in the magical community," Simmons answered with a sigh, having no clue how right she truly was. "It makes it easier for us, of course, which is a good thing, but sad for the boy whom we replaced."
"Well, there is absolutely nothing we can do about that, so let's just take advantage of it," Fitz said as he began eating again.
They hadn't been eating in silence again for very many minutes when they spotted Ron walking in the door from the entrance hall. Curious as to what he would do after their talking to him at lunch the day before, FitzSimmons pretended to focus entirely on their eating like they hadn't noticed him walking in, but in reality used their spy skills to secretly observe him. He walked towards the Gryffindor table and paused briefly as he saw them sitting there, before continuing on down the table to where some of the other first years were and sitting with them.
"Think he's given up?" Fitz asked in an undertone.
"Not sure. He may just be giving us time after yesterday's talking to and will be back at us again next week, I don't know. He did seem to think about joining us before deciding not to," Simmons answered.
"Hopefully not — he's been really annoying," Fitz replied.
A little while later FitzSimmons finished eating, and headed out to explore the castle and try to map it all out, at least for Saturdays. Though from their observations all week, most of the castle seemed to stay in the same place, and only the staircases, secret passageways, and doors seemed to move around, come out in different places, or not open depending on the day. But so far they had only really mapped out the triangle from Gryffindor Tower to the entrance hall to their various classrooms, and not the massive expanse of the castle in between and beyond those three areas, since they did have classes to attend and not unlimited free time. So since they did have unlimited free time that day, that is what they were going to do with their Saturday.
Starting in the entrance hall they took each hallway until it dead ended or one hallway into another into another looped them back to the entrance hall or some hallway that they had already been down, drawing every turn and marking every door, classroom, staircase, and secret path that they passed. Once they had finished the first floor, they moved on to the second through seventh floors, doing the same. Finally, when they had the base layout of all seven floors mapped out and had walked what was probably quite literally miles, they began taking each of the secret passageways and staircases, seeing what connected with what.
They paused their exploration briefly at lunchtime in order to grab something to eat, but by the time supper arrived they were pretty sure that they had covered every inch of the castle as it was laid out on a Saturday. There were doubtlessly still many staircases and secret passageways that led to different places on other days of the week, and several passageways that they knew from other days didn't exist on Saturday, and doors that wouldn't open for them that day, but for the most part they had a fully functional base map of Hogwarts castle, along with specific versions of varying completion for all of the daily differences, all of which, even the Sunday one that they only had from the Great Hall up to Gryffindor tower since that was the night they had arrived, were infinitely more helpful that anything that any of the professors had given them so far, as that was jack diddly fucking squat.
"Think we could get rich selling this to first years, and probably a few older students once we've completely perfected it?" Fitz asked as they sat down at the Gryffindor table for supper.
"I would say we should be Good Samaritans and give a copy of it to every first year in the castle," Simmons answered as she pulled the dish of shepherds pie towards them. "If we can find and perfect a duplication spell in order to make copies to be able to give to everyone. Though we're still several weeks away from a completed map, so we've got time for that. Also, I wonder if there's a way to make the map change every day as the castle changes, so that one only needs one single map that is always accurate, instead of seven layers of maps to sort through to find the right day."
"And somehow make it holographic 3D, since it's a three dimensional castle," Fitz added. "But that is why you're you, the greatest girl in the world, wanting to give it to everyone instead of make money off of it like me."
"You're not wrong though — it's a demand that we've created a supply for, so if it was adults and not a school of children that we were dealing with here, I'd be all for making money off of our hard work and an entire day of walking, including literally over a hundred staircases," Simmons replied. "But it is kids, and a school, so we should be trying to help them. Maybe sell the idea to the school though, for them to have the map to give out in future years — that I'd be all for, if I had any faith that the school actually would print out maps and give them to every incoming student from next year forth. But if they haven't thought of that idea on their own in a thousand years, especially when most of them were all first year students here once themselves, they're too monumentally stupid to be trusted with even a map, let alone passing on knowledge to the next generation, which only leaves them deliberately not helping their students, in which case they probably wouldn't buy our map in the first place, and even if they did, they would refuse to actually ever use our map to help the children in their charge."
"Isn't that like — abuse of some kind, surely?" Fitz said, rightfully appalled.
"It should certainly fall under some kind of criminal negligence," Simmons answered. "That then becomes child abuse as soon as they punish students' failure to obey the rules of showing up to classes on time because of said negligence in providing them any way to show up on time. And that is of course assuming that it is only about refusing to help students by refusing to give them a map so that they can move around efficiently and show up on time. If it is a step further — withholding necessary information for the express purpose of having an excuse to punish students for something that they can't possibly do right because the adults are making sure that they can't do it correctly — then it's no longer simply negligence that becomes abuse, it's intentional child abuse from the start, pure evil of the worst possible kind imaginable. Even Ward didn't go after children. But I'd really rather not think about that possibility at the moment, as that would require us going to work as Shield agents, and while of course we obviously will if it comes to that, I'd like to get to be just a student again at least for a little while if at all possible."
So FitzSimmons left the subject at that for the time being until they had time to gather more information about the situation that they were in, engaging in more pleasant conversations generally involving fish of the cuddling (or 'cuttle'-ing) variety for the remainder of supper. And once they were done eating they headed outside to spend the day's remaining light out of doors, having spent the entire day up until that point inside of the castle.
Then on Sunday, except for an hour or so after lunch to quickly see what new doors and passageways had opened and closed inside of the castle for Sunday, they spent the entire day outside exploring the castle grounds. Unlike the day before, however, they did so without making a map this time, as they didn't expect the outside to move around like the inside of the castle did. And since they weren't busy trying to make a map and were just strolling for fun and enjoying their day, they did their exploration with a lot more snogging behind trees and rocks and anywhere else that they ran across without risking being seen by anyone, than they had the day before when they were inside where other students were wandering about as well.