Chapter Nineteen

A/N: I do not own anything from the Lion King or from Harry Potter. I do own the concept of this story. That's it. The plot is mine. The characters are Disney's/JK Rowling's.

The next day, Simba found himself in a trunk once more. It was dark in there, and it got cramped, as Simba grew bigger. It was no surprise then that he hated this part of going to Hogwarts, but thankfully it was always over quickly.

"Thank Merlin," he sighed once he heard the signal from Fred and climbed into the small compartment the twins shared with Lee Jordan. "I think some of your socks have revolted in there. Have you ever heard of washing them?"

"Shut it," Fred grumbled but smiled at the younger companion. "You going to see Harry or staying here to nag me about the state of my footwear?"

"I think I'll stay here," Simba grinned. "Harry hasn't seen his friends in forever. I might give them some time apart and uh…I was thinking of taking you up on your offer from last year. You know, about the reversing of the Animagus potion?"

Fred looked shocked. "You sure? Because George is the potions expert of the two of us, not me."

"I'd be working with the two of you so it shouldn't be a problem," Simba chuckled and the train ride was spent plotting out where they would meet. After all, Fred said, they planned to take the other potion and needed a place to practice where they wouldn't get caught.

"Nothing like getting into mischief to make a year go by quickly," George smirked. Said smirk fell off his face when the train started to slow down. "We can't be there yet, can we?"

"Maybe we've broken down?" Simba suggested, getting up to look around. This was the second year in a row there was a train related issue and Simba was dying to get to the bottom of it.

"The train runs on magic," Fred shook his head to refute the lion's idea. The lights went out, causing them all to jump in shock. Lee stuck his head out of the compartment to see what was going on.

"No one knows what's up," Lee shook his head and then locked the door to the compartment. "Better to be safe than sorry," he explained upon seeing their puzzled looks.

"Why is the glass freezing up?" Simba asked, looking at the ice building on the glass pane. "Is something moving out there?"

Fred quickly stood up. "I'm going to see what's what."

But before he could open the door, it slowly slid open on its own; despite its previously locked nature. Simba saw, with horror, a decomposing hand clutching the handle. Every second the thing was near, the temperature seemed to get lower and lower. Suddenly, the sound of hoof beats appeared out of thin air.

"Zazu, help me!" he heard himself call out, shouting to be heard over the defining roar of the stampede.

"Your father is on the way! Hold on!" the bird called and flew away as Simba pleaded with him to hurry. He gripped the tree branch as hard as he could but the flow of the stampede was too great and he started to slip. As one of the herd members hit the tree, Simba screamed in panic.

"Simba!"

"Mate, give him some space."

"He's breathing right?"

Simba opened his eyes to see two very worried redheads and one very worried non-redhead.

"What happened?" Simba asked, trying to get up but found the task more difficult than he thought due to the fact he was being held down by George. George looked more worried than Simba ever remembered seeing the older boy—and seeing as the lion lived with George during the summer, that was saying something.

"Well you…you passed out," Lee said as bluntly as possible. "Missed Malfoy running in here and pissing himself though."

"That was funny," Fred nodded with a grin on his face but then grew somber, just like George. "But uh…who's Zazu?"

"What?"

"You kinda called out for him when you passed out. You asked for him to help you."

Simba ignored Fred and looked out the window. He knew what the memory was but as much as he trusted Fred, he didn't really want to go into the truth of the memory. He didn't want to lose his friends when they found out that he was the reason his father was dead.

"I'm going to find Harry," he said and left the compartment. All over, people were comforting one another. A blonde boy and girl were comforting a red headed girl Simba knew to be a Hufflepuff in one compartment and a few Gryffindor second years were chattering with one another excitedly. A few boys wearing Ravenclaw ties were passing bars of chocolate around their compartment, and the three Gryffindor chasers were nervous as could be. Thankfully, no one stopped Simba on his quest to find his brother. It didn't take long due to the fact that Simba could track the scent.

"Harry?" he poked his head into the compartment where the scent was the strongest.

"Hey Simba," Harry tried to smile at the lion but could only manage a weak grimace. Ginny seemed to be shaking over in the corner and Neville looked particularly disturbed. Ron and Hermione were looking at Harry as if he was going to pass out.

"What's wrong?" Simba asked. "Why'd we stop?"

"A check of the train," Hermione said in a soft voice. "They wanted to check to make sure no one was harboring Sirius Black."

"But what were those things?"

"Dementors," Ron told him. "Guards of Azkaban. Merlin, I tell you. I never want to go to Azkaban if that's what's in store."

"Join the club." Simba grumbled and curled up next to Ginny. He tried to sleep the rest of the train ride away, but whenever he closed his eyes he just saw the image of the herd running towards him. Simba really didn't want to answer questions about that day, though. It was bad enough that he had to visit it unwillingly; he didn't want to talk about it. He'd just stopped having the nightmares!

"Simba, we're here," Harry said, nudging his brother awake. Simba shook his head and followed Harry out into the carriages, where he'd once again hide under the Gryffindor table as to not frighten the First years. However, upon entering the castle, their group was stopped by McGonagall calling after them.

"Potter, Granger! A word."

Ron and Simba stopped to join them but McGonagall told them to go into the Great Hall and wait for them.

"What do you reckon that's about?" Ron asked.

"I dunno," Simba said as he slid under the table. He didn't even pay attention to the sorting hat's song, that's how concerned he was about his brother. Thankfully, Harry's feet popped under the table by the time the first course was served.

"What'd McGonagall want?" Ron asked.

"Not here," Harry hissed as he handed Simba a piece of chicken. Simba poked his head out to see the other tables and found Malfoy doing something odd. It was almost as if he was impersonating someone fainting. Well, Simba knew where to direct the twins' attention, that's for sure.

The old man is losing it, Simba thought upon hearing Dumbledore state that Dementors would be stationed upon every entrance of the castle. Those things were evil! Well then again, judging by his robes I don't think he ever had it.

"Hmmm…chicken," he muttered as someone slipped another piece down to him. Okay, so maybe he wasn't so worried about the Dementors that he'd stop eating. He was a growing lion all right. He needed food. The Trio and Simba walked to Gryffindor tower, stopping of course to watch Malfoy do his little fainting impression.

"Git," Simba rolled his eyes, reaffirming his mental note to direct the attentions of the twins to a certain Slytherin.

"Yeah, don't listen to him Harry," Ron said with a nod. "What time did you say that Wood told you Quidditch practice was?"

That seemed to cheer Harry up a tad, as the boys talked Quidditch while Hermione and Simba swapped stories about their summers. Apparently, Hermione had gone to France for a few weeks.

"We stopped there when the Weasleys were returning to the country," Simba said. "Was it nice there?"

"Oh yes," Hermione nodded eagerly. "I learned loads about History of Magic that I found useful for my summer homework."

Simba shook his head; Hermione would never change but no one would ask her to. Climbing through the portrait hole, Simba couldn't help but grin upon seeing the common room for the first time in months.

"Good to be home," Harry sighed.

"You got that right," Simba nodded. "Come on. Last one to the top's a rotten egg."

The three boys raced each other to their dorm, and quickly claimed the same beds they had claimed for the past two years.

"Night Simba," Harry smiled at the lion curled up at the foot of the bed. The other four boys had fallen asleep already.

"Night Harry," Simba returned the smile and closed his eyes; hoping that his nightmares would not return. Of course, some cruel twist of fate would prove him wrong yet again.