Chapter 24

A/N: I do not own anything from The Lion King or from Harry Potter. I only own the plot of this fanfic.

Okay, time to address the elephant in the room. I am so sorry I've been away for so long! So first reason was preparing to graduate college, along with attending my cousins' weddings. Then I participated in the Disney College Program, which was a lot of fun! Shoot me a PM if you want to learn more about it! That took up a lot of my time (along with moving down there and moving back up). Now, I'm in the process of looking for a job so it's a little more stable. I'll keep you guys updated on how my search progresses.

Thank you all who've stuck through this story during its (unintentional) hiatus. I hope the wait was worth it. Please review!

Simba raced down the stairs, not even noticing the students who were knocked over in his quest. He had only one thing on his mind—he had to go get to Black and figure out what it was that the man did to Harry's broom. If he was truly innocent, then surely he would have turned himself over to the aurors right? Why spend 12 years in jail for a crime he didn't commit?

Shaking his head, Simba barely noticed as he ran straight into Hagrid. Well, he noticed when he came to a full stop; the force of the impact was so strong that it knocked him backwards and caused him to sit down.

"Oh, 'ello Simba!" Hagrid exclaimed, looking over his shoulder to see the lion sitting on the floor. "Happy Christmas! Where are you off to in such a hurry? I'd think you'd be celebratin' with Harry, now wouldn't you?"

Simba was silent. What could he say to that? Oh, Harry doesn't know that I'm going to confront Sirius Black who just gave him a quality broomstick because I'm afraid that Black's done something to the broom in order to kill Harry? Oh how do I know where Black is? Well, I found him in the forest a few weeks ago and didn't think to tell anyone because he claims he's innocent!

Yeah, that would go over well.

"I'm looking for Timon and Pumbaa," Simba said after taking a minute to think and to stand back up. "Hermione was worried about them in the cold and wanted them to spend some time in the common room since most everyone went home for the holidays."

Hagrid smiled at that. "Oh, well just go into my hut. They're keeping Beaky company."

The smile that had been on the groundskeeper's face faded as he mentioned his beloved hippogriff.

"How's the case coming along Hagrid?" Simba asked, putting his fury towards Black to the side; opting to instead comfort Hagrid should he need it.

"Oh, 'ermione's been a big help," Hagrid nodded. "She's found more things for the case than I would have even thought of! That's on top of all 'er classes!"

He sighed, still looking forlorn. "But it'll be tough, especially goin' up against Lucius Malfoy."

"Do you have a date for the case?" Simba asked, hoping it would be soon so Hagrid could put this behind him.

"Sometime in February," Hagrid sighed. "They'll send me a more exact date when the time comes."

Suddenly Hagrid began to smile. "What am I doin', bogging you down with this case? It's Christmas! Go visit Timon and Pumbaa!"

There was nothing Simba could say to that, especially since Hagrid started to walk away from him. Simba sat for a moment, staring after the giant man. He wished there was something he could do but what could a lion do against the ministry? A ministry who allowed a monster like Black to remain at large?

Rage filled Simba's veins as he remembered the broomstick still sitting on his brother's bed. He had to get to Black before Harry actually rode that thing—just to make sure that it was safe. Simba didn't know what he'd do if another member of his family got hurt—or killed—because of him.

Running through the snow-covered grounds would have normally given Simba the chance to pause and enjoy the peacefulness brought by the students off for the holidays. But this time, it was if the grounds didn't exist. There was only one thought on his mind—get to Black!

Thankfully he didn't have to think about where the clearing was, since his brain was strictly on auto-pilot. When he got there, Black was in his dog form, stretching his lower back. He grinned and wagged his tail upon seeing Simba but that all changed once Simba pounced on him.

"Oof!" Black grunted after changing back. "What's the big idea? It's Christmas!"

"What did you do to the broom?" Simba growled, his bared teeth inches from the convict's face.

"What broom?" Black asked, fear evident in his voice.

"The broom you gave to Harry today!"

Recognition flickered in Black's eyes and he started to grin once more, giving Simba cause for concern.

"He got it? Oh Merlin that's awesome! Has he ridden it yet?" Black asked, his glee not what you'd expect from someone trying to murder a 13 year old.

"Why do you want to know?" Simba asked, anger still evident in his voice. "Want to make sure Harry's flung to his death?"

"What? No!" Black cried out. "I want to make sure he enjoyed it. Now will you get off?! Your claws are starting to dig into my shoulders!"

Simba looked down and, sure enough, it was evident that not only were his claws cutting through the thin fabric of Black's robes but that they were also starting to produce little beads of blood. He leapt back, almost ashamed of his actions. This was the second time he'd almost harmed another human while on Hogwarts property. He would have to get a handle on himself if he didn't want Malfoy or some other powerful family to have a reason to send him away.

"Sorry," Simba grumbled. He was sorry—a little. It still didn't change the fact that Simba still had no idea whether the broom Harry received was safe to ride. Also, even if Black had actually cursed the broom, he didn't seem like the type of guy who was dumb enough to say so to an already royally pissed off lion; especially when that lion has you pinned down to the ground, fangs inches from your face. Did he even have a wand to curse the broom anyway?

Sighing, Simba sat down on the forest floor. It was the freaking lack of sleep that was making him so irritable! He knew it! However, Simba was so focused on his thoughts that he didn't notice the concerned look directed toward him by the criminal.

"Is everything okay, lion?" Black asked, sitting down by Simba. Not too close as to prevent being pinned to the forest floor again but close enough that he could provide comfort if needed. "I mean, you figured out where I was weeks ago! I'm surprised you didn't tell a professor. But now you barge at me, with death in your eyes!"

Simba chuckled under his breath and then shook his head. Criminal or not, Black did deserve an explanation.

"Harry received a Firebolt today," he said. "There was no card and Crookshanks said it was from you."

"And you still don't fully believe I'm innocent," Black sighed, catching on to the whole deal. "You thought I did something to the broom. Well, that does explain the being pinned to the forest by a pissed off lion on Christmas. You know, I did some pretty strange things as a teen but I think this tops the cake."

Simba chuckled. "Yeah, well Harry doesn't know who gave it to him. Before Crookshanks told me, Ron was saying that it was possibly Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore?" Black barked out a laugh. "Since when would the headmaster give a single student a gift? Even one as mental as Dumbledore?"

"Well, he did give Harry his invisibility cloak," Simba shrugged and stiffened as Black looked straight at him. "What?"

"Harry's got James' cloak?" Black asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Simba nodded.

"Yeah, he's had it since first year," he said. "Why?"

Black couldn't hear him. It was like he was in his own little world. Simba didn't even want to know what the man was thinking about but all he knew was that maybe it was a bad idea to mention to a wanted felon that the target of his murdering ways could become invisible.

"Oh," Black shook his head, almost like a dog drying itself off, upon realizing that Simba was still staring at him expectantly. "Sorry. I was just caught up in memories. All the times James and I would disappear under the cloak to go steal food from the kitchens…good times."

"You knew Harry's dad?" Simba asked skeptically. If this was true, he wasn't sure what to make of this new information. If Black truly was innocent, then it wouldn't make sense why a friend of Harry's dad would suddenly kill 13 people with a single curse and laugh about it. If Black was guilty though, it would make it all the more worse.

"Knew him? James was my best friend," Black replied. Simba cocked an eyebrow at that and Black chuckled. "You know you remind me of him in some ways."

"Really?" Simba asked, this time curious.

"Oh yeah," Black nodded and plopped down on his back. Simba lied down on his stomach and tried to ignore the snow seeping into his fur or the cold that had seemed to setting in his bones as he listened to Black talk. Hours seemed to go by but Simba could tell that Black was truthful—well, that he knew of. Black could have just been a fantastic actor for all he knew.

Suddenly Black sat up, as if shocked. "What time is it?"

Simba sprang to his feet, not realizing until then that the sun had begun to set. "Oh crud! I hope the doors aren't locked!"

Black chuckled. "If they are, that won't be a problem."

"What are you talking about?" Simba asked, pausing his pacing. "You don't get it, do you? If I'm caught outside, someone will wonder why I was out here this long—meaning I'll have someone watching me constantly after this, meaning someone will eventually find you."

"There's a passage under the Whomping Willow," Black told him, pointing toward the violent tree and seemingly ignoring the lion's concern about his possible capture. "It leads to Hogsmeade. If you take it, go to the cellar of Honeydukes. You'll find the secret passage into Hogwarts there."

"Black, I still don't know if you're innocent but thanks," Simba grinned and then, almost against his better judgment, took a big whiff of Black's scent. Simba paused upon realizing that Black's scent reminding him almost of the sweet tart Harry liked to eat. Scents were the one thing that could reveal someone's true nature—and they, unlike the appearances and personalities of the Wizarding world—could not be faked. The nicer the scent, the closer to goodness a person or animal was. Ron smelled like chicken, McGonagall like the Pride Lands. Malfoy on the other hand smelled like Fred's socks while Quirrell's scent had strongly imitated the troll from first year.

Black was good—and that confused the hell out Simba because someone with a good scent wouldn't have murdered all those people. He wouldn't have betrayed the Potters. He wouldn't be after Harry.

"Are you going to get going or are you just going to continue to stare at me?" Black—Sirius asked with a wry grin. Simba chuckled.

"Sorry. See you!" Simba called as he ran off through the snow—his heart a little lighter as he realized that there may just be someone else in Harry's life that actually cared for him. That feeling faded as he realized that just because Sirius was innocent, it didn't change the fact that he had broken out of prison for some reason—and if it wasn't to kill Harry, then what was it?

The swinging branches of the Whomping Willow brought Simba out of his thoughts and he winced as the end of a branch caught him on the cheek.

"Honestly, you call yourself a feline," a familiar voice called out and Simba looked over to see Crookshanks looking particularly smug about the whole situation.

"Are you going to stand there like the cat that ate the canary or are you going to help me?!" Simba shot back, ducking another attack from the deranged tree. Honestly, why was this thing on the grounds of a school where kids could potentially get hurt?

Then again, whoever was in charge before Dumbledore thought he'd be a good replacement choice and look how that turned out.

Crookshanks didn't respond to Simba but instead nimbly dodged the branches and pressed a knot on the tree, effectively freezing it.

"Wow," Simba said, looking impressed. "I have got to remember that one."

Ducking into the tunnel, Simba paused upon realizing that the tunnel led to a house that seemed to be falling into ruin. There were bite marks on the furniture and some pieces were missing whole legs. Simba wasn't even going to note the claw marks on the walls.

"Hurry! They'll notice we've been gone!" Crookshanks urged and Simba started to follow the ginger feline.

"Wait, how'd you know I was outside? Harry doesn't even know where I am!" Simba said after a few minutes of walking in silence.

"I'm not an idiot. I knew after I told you that the broom was from the dog man, you'd run to confront him. I also figured that this would finally get it through your thick skull that the man is who he claims to be." Crookshanks responded. The rest of the trip was made in silence, with Simba pondering what the smaller feline had told him. It wasn't until he heard the creak of armor that he realized that he was back at Hogwarts.

"Thanks," he told Crookshanks, who nodded and ran off. Simba ran back to the Gryffindor Common Room, hoping beyond hope that Harry hadn't ridden the broom yet. It wasn't because he thought Sirius had done something awful to the broom—he wanted to see the thing in action and report back to Sirius how it flew!

After giving the password to the mental knight that now guarded the Gryffindor Common Room, Simba was shocked to see Professor McGonagall standing in the middle of the room, examining Harry's broomstick. He was even more shocked to see Hermione reading a book upside down and looking particularly sheepish while Harry and Ron looked very confused.

"Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Potter," McGonagall said, much to Simba's horror.

"W—what?" said Harry, scrambling to his feet. "Why?"

Simba could understand his brother's confusion. Hell, he had no idea why the Quidditch happy professor would randomly decide to confiscate the best possible broom for her team to crush Slytherin with.

"It will need to be checked for jinxes," Professor McGonagall explained. "Of course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down."

Simba thought Ron was going to faint at the very thought of stripping the broom down.

"There's nothing wrong with the broom, Professor!" Simba spoke up, unable to take the tension in the room. McGonagall shot Simba a stern look.

"You can't possibly know that until Mr. Potter's ridden the broom—which is out of the question until the staff is certain it has not been tampered with. I would think you would understand that during these times."

Turning back to Harry, McGonagall said "I shall keep you informed Potter, though the process shouldn't take more than a few weeks. You will have it back if we are sure that it is jinx-free."

Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and left the Common Room, carrying the Firebolt out with her and leaving three very confused males in her wake. Ron, seeming to be the first to come out of his daze, rounded on Hermione.

"Why did you go running to McGonagall, huh?"

Simba noticed the faint flush of Hermione's face but she put her book to the side and stood up to face Ron.

"Because I thought that the broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black-and Professor McGonagall agrees with me!"

In his later years, Simba would probably call his actions a result of spending too much time with humans but he couldn't help it. The whole situation, plus the fact that he was completely sleep deprived, was so surreal that it caused him to burst out laughing.

"Really Simba?" Hermione sniffed. "Professor McGonagall was right. You of all the people here at Hogwarts should understand the necessity of keeping Harry safe."

"By taking away his stuff?" Simba shot back, her comment sobering him up. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harry and Ron staring at him in shock. Normally in these situations, he'd be backing up Hermione not arguing with her. "Besides, Black's one of the most wanted wizards in the world. Do you really think he could just walk into a Quidditch supply shop and buy a broom like a Firebolt without the ministry swooping down on him?"

"There are such things as mail order forms," Hermione told him and her tone just irked Simba. What did she know about trying to keep a family member safe? Her world was perfect.

"Yeah, because I'm sure Black just has enough money lying around from escaping prison," Simba scoffed. "Not to mention does he even have a wand to curse a broom with?"

"Umm, Simba?" Harry interjected. "Maybe this conversation should be held at a later date?"

"Yeah!" Ron nodded, all hostility toward Hermione forgotten as he stared at the normally jovial lion in shock. Simba shook his head, determined to get everything out while he could.

"Hermione just doesn't like the fact that she and Professor McGonagall could be wrong about something!"

He knew then that he had shot a low blow as the room seemed to get colder. Harry and Ron began slowly backing away from him and Hermione stiffened but proceeded to collect her books.

"Fine," she sniffed, throwing her bag over her shoulder. "If you know everything Simba then I won't stop you. I'll just leave you to protect my best friend from the wanted murderer by yourself."

Turning on her heel, Hermione stormed up to the girl's dorms and the resulting slam of her door could be heard throughout the silent common room. Simba shot a look to the offending stairwell, as if it was to blame for the noise.

"I'm going to bed," Simba muttered and proceeded to make his way up the stairs.

"Do you think something's going on with Simba?" he heard Ron ask before he rounded the corner—each step becoming almost impossible as he passed by the dorms for the second years as the excitement from the previous events wore off. The steps almost seem to duplicate in front of him and Simba paused.

He blinked or so he thought because the next thing he knew, he was lying back in front of Harry and Ron—and his body ached all over.

"Maybe I'll just sleep here," he muttered and laid his head back down on the carpet. Something told him that finding peace and quiet might be a little more difficult now.