FitzSimmons' first class of the new school year was Arithmancy, aka magical math.

In normal first lesson fashion it was all introductory stuff, mostly just informing all of the students in there of what exactly they'd signed themselves up for, since none of the professors had done that the Easter before when everyone had had to pick out their new classes for third year. But for FitzSimmons, who had not only read through the entire assigned textbook but also the couple more books that Simmons had picked up for them to read on the subject at the magical bookstore in Montana, it was really quite boring and they spent most of the class time hoping that the next Arithmancy class would actually get into doing the introductory Arithmancy that they had already started doing on their own after reading all of the books.

After that they had Transfiguration, where it seemed like most of the class's heads were not there, and everyone kept shooting furtive glances at a Lavender who seemed even paler than her normal British pastiness.

Finally McGonagall exclaimed, "Really, what has got into you all today? Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class."

FitzSimmons thought it rather rich of her to expect applause for being an animagus, but the rest of the class turned towards Lavender.

When no one said anything and just stared uncomfortably at Lavender, McGonagall finally snapped, "Well?!"

"We just had our first Divination class..." Lavender began timidly.

"Ah, of course," Professor McGonagall said. "There is no need to say any more, Miss Brown. And I assume you will be the one dying this year?"

Predictably everyone stared at Professor McGonagall in shock, FitzSimmons included this time.

But Professor McGonagall continued on, "You should know, Brown, that Sibyll Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues — Well, Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney — You look in excellent health to me, Brown, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."

No one except FitzSimmons, who'd had experience with seers before (*cough* Robin *cough*), seemed convinced though, and Lavender said, "But what about Neville's cup? She predicted that."

Professor McGonagall, however, completely ignored whatever it was that the girl was talking about and carried on with her lesson like there had been no interruption to talk about Lavender's impending demise, not that anyone besides FitzSimmons actually paid any more attention than they had been before. But eventually the bell rang letting them out, and they all headed down to the Great Hall for lunch.

Once lunch was over and the bell rang again, FitzSimmons headed down to Hagrid's hut with the rest of the third year Gryffindors who were taking Care of Magical Creatures class. A few minutes after arriving they discovered that they were having the class with Slytherin, as Malfoy swaggered down from the castle with his gang, already sneering nasty comments about Hagrid before having had even a single lesson with the gamekeeper — though FitzSimmons weren't sure that the bully's comments weren't in their essence completely true, having their own doubts about Hagrid's ability to be a teacher, and years of higher learning to know what made a good professor and what didn't. But Malfoy was doing it just to be an arsehole and a bully, so that part was still wrong even if what he was saying was true.

As soon as everyone had arrived, Hagrid said to the assembled group of third years, "C'mon, now, get a move on! Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

Then he led them around the edge of the Forbidden Forest for five minutes, until finally coming upon an empty paddock.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here! That's it — make sure yeh can see — now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books."

"How?" Malfoy demanded in his normal cold, drawling voice.

"Eh?" Hagrid asked in confusion.

"How do we open our books?" Malfoy repeated, as he took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters.

He had it bound shut with a length of rope, while other people in the class had theirs belted shut, crammed inside tight bags, or clamped together with binder clips. FitzSimmons, on the other hand, merely had a strip of blue painter's tape holding their copy shut, as they knew that it took hardly anything at all to keep it shut, and not wanting to hurt the leather cover by using duck tape.

"Hasn' — hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" Hagrid asked, crestfallen.

"We have," Simmons answered loudly, holding out their open book sitting all quietly in her hand. "But we only discovered it purely by chance. Having to rub the spine of a book to make it openable isn't something that anyone would ever think of on their own, or even normally discover by accident like I happened to."

"Yes, well, yeh've got ter stroke 'em," Hagrid echoed uncertainly.

A few of the braver Gryffindors ran their fingers down the spines of their books, before very hesitantly undoing whatever means they had the books restrained by. The books docilely fell open, able to be read.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Malfoy sneered as he watched everyone begin to follow the first Gryffindors' examples, though he did stroke the spine of his own book as well. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"

"I — I thought they were funny," Hagrid replied uncertainly, looking downcast.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" Malfoy retorted. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"

Between Malfoy's ridicule and no one in the class (except Harry and his friend) having figured out on their own how to open his clever book, Hagrid had clearly lost his confidence, as he just muttered, "Righ' then, so — so yeh've got yer books an' — an' — now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on…."

And with that he headed off into the Forest and out of sight.

As soon as Malfoy was confident that Hagrid was out of earshot, he sneered loudly, "God, this place is going to the dogs. That oaf teaching classes — my father'll have a fit when I tell him."

"Cunt, or does he actually know that Hagrid shouldn't have been given a teaching position?" Fitz whispered into Simmons' ear.

"Cunt, but a broken clock is still right once or twice a day depending on if it's twenty-four or twelve hour," Simmons answered.

"Unless the lcd's burnt out on a digital screen," Fitz smirked back.

Simmons rolled her eyes at him, but at that moment Lavender squealed "Oooooooh!" as she pointed towards the opposite side of the paddock.

Hagrid was leading a dozen hippogriffs of a plethora of different colors towards them. "Hippogriffs! Beau'iful, aren' they?"

And they truly were. Giant Eagle heads, front legs, and wings, with horse bodies, hind legs, and tails, they were powerful and majestic creatures who looked like they wouldn't take anyone's shit. And Hagrid's next words confirmed that.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud," he began teaching the class. "Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do. Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move. It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt. Right — who wants ter go first?"

FitzSimmons immediately raised their hands, clasping them high above their heads in an attempt to show Hagrid that they meant together.

It failed.

"Good man, Harry!" Hagrid roared, some of his initial enthusiasm finally returning. "Right then — let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

FitzSimmons deftly jumped over the fence together as Hagrid pulled a grey hippogriff into the center of the paddock away from the others.

Hagrid seemed momentarily surprised to see both of them standing there instead of just Harry when he turned around to face Harry, but after a second he simply said, "Easy now. Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink…. Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much..."

Buckbeak turned his great, sharp head to stare at FitzSimmons with a fierce orange eye, but FitzSimmons just looked back unafraid. After all, they had interacted with Daisy just after she had woken up and before she had got any coffee yet plenty of times on missions when sharing a hotel room with the inhuman — what could any measly hippogriff possibly have on her? Of course not to mention all of the actual bad guys whom they faced on a yearly basis.

"Tha's it," Hagrid said. "Tha's it...now, bow."

Fitz gave a deep bow as Simmons curtsied in her jeans. They were pretty sure that Simmons' curtsy confused the creature a great deal, as when they looked back up it had its head turned slightly and blinked at them in confusion for a second, before finally bowing to them.

"Well done!" Hagrid exclaimed, completely ecstatic. "Right — yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

FitzSimmons moved forward, splitting to either side of Buckbeak but making sure to go wide enough for its bird eyes to be able to keep constant sight of them. Then they reached out to pet its beak, where it closed its eyes lazily, clearly enjoying their ministrations.

As the Gryffindors broke into applause, Hagrid said to FitzSimmons, "Righ' then, you two. I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him! Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint, an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that."

Buckbeak laid its wing out on the ground for them, so Simmons put her foot on the hippogriff's wing bone and Fitz pushed her up by her bum onto its back. Then he put his own foot on Buckbeak's wing bone and Simmons reached her hand down to help pull him up behind her. Once they were settled on its back, Simmons holding onto its neck and Fitz with his arms wrapped around his wife's waist and both of their knees clutching its sides, Buckbeak stood back up.

Then Hagrid slapped Buckbeak's hindquarters, roaring, "Go on, then!"

Buckbeak spread its twelve-foot wings and soared upwards. With Simmons holding on to its neck and her legs securely in front of its wing bones, and Fitz holding onto her right behind its wing bones, they had a pretty secure perch as the creature beat its wings and flew them in a lazy circle around the paddock.

But as she sensed that it was about to head back down to the ground, Simmons leaned forward to whisper into its ear, "Can you go higher, Buckbeak? Fly us around all of the Hogwarts grounds?"

Buckbeak flapped its wings harder a few times, soon having them above tree level.

On the ground they could hear Hagrid shouting, "No, Buckbeak! Come back!", but the hippogriff obeyed Simmons and took off across the grounds towards the castle.

For the next fifteen minutes it flew them over every inch of the grounds of Hogwarts, though noticeably staying away from the borders and gates where the dementors were posted, apparently as enthused by their presence as everyone else was. But eventually it flew back to the paddock where Hagrid and the rest of the class were anxiously waiting on them. As it neared the ground, Simmons leaned forward and threw her arms entirely around Buckbeak's neck as Fitz leaned into her back pressing her into its feathers, holding on tightly as it made contact with the ground at a canter and then came to a stop. Kneeling, Buckbeak let Fitz slip off using its wing bone as a step again, before Simmons swung her leg to be sitting sidesaddle on its back, and then jumped down into her husband's waiting arms. Then Buckbeak stood back up again and walked over to its brethren hippogriffs.

Hagrid, meanwhile, hurried over to FitzSimmons and began apologizing profusely, "I'm so sorry! I 'ave no idea why 'e did tha' !"

"Because I asked him to," Simmons replied simply. "What's the point of getting a flight on a hippogriff if you don't take advantage of it?"

Hagrid stared at her in shock as she and Fitz walked back over to the fence and leaned back against it, waiting for the class to continue.

Collecting himself, Hagrid looked around at the class and said, "Alrigh', everyone else now — yeh saw how they did it. Come on, come on."

Soon everyone was bowing all around the paddock and petting hippogriffs' beaks. Having seen Malfoy and the Gang spending most of the time before their flight talking amongst themselves not paying any attention to Hagrid, and just generally being cunts, FitzSimmons drifted in their direction to where the three Slytherins had approached Buckbeak, to make sure that they didn't do anything stupid that messed things up for everyone else in the class.

And it was a smart move on their part that they did, as less than a minute after Buckbeak bowed in return for Malfoy and the Gang to start petting its beak, Malfoy drawled disdainfully towards a nearby lurking FitzSimmons, "This is very easy. I knew it must have been, if Potter and the mudblood could do it." Turning to face Buckbeak, he continued on, "I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you? Are you, you great ugly brute?"

Like any sensible intelligent creature, Buckbeak reared up in a flash to slash the arsehole bully down a few pegs. But between FitzSimmons expecting something stupid on Malfoy's part — the entire reason that they were hanging out near him in the first place — and Fitz hearing and feeling the sneakoscope in his pocket start whistling faintly and trying to spin for the first time since they'd received it earlier that summer as Malfoy insulted the beautiful creature, Fitz was able to diving tackle Malfoy out of the way just before Buckbeak's talons came slashing down, saving the bully from well-deserved harm. Fitz, however, wasn't quite so lucky.

Not that he actually discovered that from feeling any pain, but rather from his wife instantly sinking by his leg, making him look down and see his pants torn and a bright red line through the tear, as the pain hadn't even hit him yet. Not that it was anything to mention when it did hit him a few seconds later, Simmons already using the Severing Charm to cut his pant leg up to the knee that so that she could push the trouser material up out of the way in order to look at the injury, as it twas but a scratch. Nothing like getting shot, or stabbed, or going to another planet, or any of the other plethora of injuries that he'd suffered on missions throughout the years as a Shield agent — and certainly not like having a building lightly dropped on him.

But Fitz dutifully held still as his wife checked him out, until she looked up at him after just a few seconds and said with a sigh of relief, "Just a scratch — you're good."

Buckbeak, meanwhile, upon seeing that it had cut an innocent student instead of the bully, had backed up quickly and kneeled down, bowing its head between its front legs and pulling its wings up around its head in penance. So Fitz medically cleared, FitzSimmons quickly stood back up and walked over to him, lightly stroking his wings until he looked up at them.

"You're okay, Buckbeak," Simmons said gently. "We know you didn't mean it. No hard feelings, and we really enjoyed your flight."

"Yeah, we're all good," Fitz added. "No harm done, just a scratch."

At their kind words Buckbeak stood back up again, and after giving them another bow, walked back over to where the rest of the hippogriffs had congregated. Because upon Buckbeak rearing up and Fitz tackling Malfoy to the ground, the rest of the class had panicked with their heads cut off, all running away from the hippogriff that they were at, most scrambling over the fence as fast as they could. Malfoy, on the other hand, was still lying on the ground staring at Fitz in shock even as Fitz and Simmons turned back around as Buckbeak walked off, his prejudiced, brainwashed (by both his family and the Hogwarts staff with their House system) brain unable to comprehend a Gryffindor putting their life in danger to save his.

Then there was the professor himself. When everything had gone down, Hagrid had originally started rushing over towards FitzSimmons and Buckbeak, half a mind to restrain Buckbeak and half a mind to just stare dumbly at Fitz, not actually having any medical training even of the magical kind and being nearly impervious to damage himself, but Buckbeak had immediately backed away and was clearly not going to be a threat to anyone at the moment, and Simmons had quickly waved him away when he had turned her direction to see about Harry Potter, and so in the end he just stood there awkwardly looking around, clueless what to do since he had zero teaching training or experience at all, let alone for a situation like this.

So after FitzSimmons had finished talking to Buckbeak and turned back around, he lamely asked them, "Alrigh' there, Harry?"

"Tis but a scratch," Fitz answered, waving him off. "Least that's ever happened to me, and I really mean that."

Assured that Harry was okay, Hagrid turned to look at Malfoy still lying pathetically on the ground, and gruffly said, "Get up, Malfoy." Then turning to the rest of the class all congregated by or on the other side of the fence, he continued on, "Let's, uh — let's go back ter me hut, and read th' section in yer books abou' hippogriffs."

Happy to get away from the 'vicious monsters', everyone scrambled back in the direction of Hagrid's hut, biting books seeming the preferable alternative to getting torn to shreds by giant eagle-horses. This also got Malfoy off of the ground finally, as despite being the furthest one away from Hagrid's hut when Hagrid had told them all that they were returning early, he was the first one back there, in substantially less than the five minutes that it had taken them to walk to the paddock at the start of class. FitzSimmons, meanwhile, strolled behind with Hagrid expounding on everywhere that Buckbeak had flown them, and asking when they could have another go at flying on a hippogriff, which unfortunately after Malfoy's stupidity and pride, seemed to be never in Hagrid's opinion.

The rest of the class time until the bell rang was spent reading the chapter in The Monster Book of Monsters on hippogriffs, one of the very few chapters in the book on only mediumly dangerous animals, as opposed to creatures like acromantula, basilisks, dragons, manticores, leithfolds, and probably most dangerous of all — behind politicians, of course, who sadly weren't covered in the book as no one has ever discovered how to deal with them in even the tiniest bit — quintapeds.

Malfoy remained subdued for the rest of the class, frequently glancing over at Fitz as if he couldn't understand him and also unsure of how to handle being indebted to the Gryffindor, saving Hagrid from any more rude comments by the bully, even if Hagrid himself was still somewhat subdued as well from Buckbeak's attempted defense of its honor. But all in all it was still a better first class than many of the ones that they'd had each year so far, some actual substance and class material instead of just introductions.

~FS~

Wednesday morning, FitzSimmons had their first duplicated hour.

It was their second class of both Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures, which made it no easier picking which one to do first. But as there were empty classrooms and broom cupboards all around the Arithmancy classroom and just wide open spaces and trees around Hagrid's hut, they decided that it was best to go to Arithmancy first and Care of Magical Creatures second, so that they could go backwards in time while hidden in an abandoned room rather than trying to do it behind a tree on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

But even then they still had to think about where they themselves would be as they headed to Arithmancy class, so that they wouldn't see themselves when they headed to Care the second time around the hour instead of Arithmancy — though FitzSimmons weren't exactly sure why seeing themselves would be such a bad thing, since they would know that it was themselves since they were already planning on traveling back in time to that exact point. But they wanted to obey Professor McGonagall at least for a while, and not have their classes taken away from them in the first week.

The trouble was, they were going to be heading to Arithmancy from the Great Hall and breakfast, which was also where they needed to go to get outside from Arithmancy so that they could make it down to Hagrid's hut for Care of Magical Creatures. In the end, they decided that the best plan was to leave breakfast early and loop around one of the back ways to the Arithmancy classroom, and then after class head straight towards the entrance hall and the great oak doors, but quickly cut down a hallway with no classrooms on it, but a very nice broom cupboard that they had snogged in plenty of times before. Then they would time travel in there, so that when they stepped back out of the cupboard no one would be walking down that hall going to a class, and their previous selves would be heading towards the Arithmancy classroom from the completely opposite direction, and they would have a straight shot for the great oak doors outside.

They executed their plan flawlessly, making it to both classes on time without anyone seeming to notice that there were two of thems, and without ever meeting themselves along the way. The classes themselves were rather boring and they half wondered whether it had even been worth going to one, let alone both of the classes, but they knew that as the year progressed and they got further into the material, they would be glad of their ability to flawlessly attend two different classes at once.

What still wasn't flawless around the castle, however, and never would be, was Snape and his dungeon Potions classes. Unless the description of flawless could be applied to intentionally failing to teach one or all of his students how to make potions, as he'd pretty flawlessly failed in his literal job when it came to Neville — not that he considered himself to blame, of course.

As he made perfectly clear midway through their class on Thursday morning, when he sneered, "Orange, Longbottom. Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Neville was pink in the face and trembling, on the verge of tears — never a good thing when it was caused by a 'professor'.

But Snape was far from done twisting the knife that he'd stabbed into the boy whom he hated nearly as much as Potter for some still unknown to FitzSimmons reason for both. "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

FitzSimmons both tensed, but psychically agreed that there was no point in making a stand just yet, on the off chance that Snape was just being a psychological cunt, and not a psychological cunt and a murderer. In the real world, this one or the one they came from, they would have transcribed (or filmed or voice recorded on their iPhones) everything that Snape said, and then taken it to the proper authorities, but unfortunately they had already proven pretty thoroughly over their two years there that there were no proper authorities in the wizarding world, or at least in the castle which is all that they had access to, and therefore there was no one that they could take this to who would listen to them and arrest Snape for repeated, flagrant, cruel, intentional child abuse, so it wasn't even worth trying to do the normally right thing to do in a situation like this. So if and when he actually tried killing Neville's pet they would step up and save Neville (and his toad), but until then they were sadly best off letting it go, as nothing would do any good until they had something that the 'adults' of this world would consider substantial in order to justify their physical harming of Snape in order to protect a student.

But before that could come, as they were all still working on brewing their potions, Seamus leaned over to Fitz and said, "Hey, Harry, have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning — they reckon Sirius Black's been sighted."

"Ok — so?" Fitz said in confusion, wondering why Seamus thought that Harry Potter specifically would care. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. That's what happens with escaped criminals 99.9% of the time."

But Ron, who was sitting with Seamus, Dean, and Neville at the table next to FitzSimmons's table, quickly exclaimed, "Where?!"

"Not too far from here!" Seamus answered excitedly as he turned to the redhead. "It was a muggle who saw him. Course, she didn't really understand. The muggles think he's just an ordinary criminal, don't they? So she phoned the telephone hotline. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone."

"Not too far from here..." Ron repeated dreamily, apparently still thinking of trying to catch Mr Black himself for money.

Meanwhile at the table on the other side of FitzSimmons's table, Malfoy's eyes were shining malevolently as they fixed on Fitz. He leaned across his table towards Fitz and sneered, "Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?"

FitzSimmons turned to look at Malfoy now in confusion.

"Uh…no? Why the bloody hell would we do that?" Fitz asked.

Malfoy's sneer curved into a mean smile. "If it was me, I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying in school like a good boy, I'd be out there looking for him."

"Then go look for him," Fitz replied indifferently. "And take Ron with you — I think he wants the reward money that probably doesn't even exist. I mean, no one's stopping you."

That was obviously a lie, as there was a whole castle full of adults and dementors at all of the exits of the castle grounds stopping anyone from leaving to go look for Mr Black, as well as all the wards themselves that kept all of the students inside the school grounds, but if Malfoy hadn't thought of those things on his own, Fitz saw no reason to bring it up himself.

Now Malfoy was the one looking at Fitz strangely. And after a second he asked in a rare genuine tone, "Don't you know, Potter?"

"No," Simmons answered simply and honestly — whatever question he might be asking, they certainly didn't know, as all they knew was that a criminal had escaped and was now on the loose. Never a good thing, but nothing earth-shattering for the world that they came from, either.

Malfoy let out a low, sneering laugh. "Oh, are you in for a shock."

FitzSimmons waited patiently for said shock, but an explanation never came. So after a few minutes they returned their full focus back to their potions, instead of multitasking between the conversation that Seamus had started and their potions that Snape was waiting on, like they had been since Seamus had first spoke.

But Malfoy was loathe to let the center of attention be anywhere but himself when he still had ridicule to throw at the Boy-Who-Was-A-Pain-In-His-Father's-Dark-Lord's-Arse, and soon drawled out, "Well, maybe you'd rather not risk your neck, want to leave it to the dementors. But if it was me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt him down myself."

Simmons looked back up at him from the snails that she was stewing. "We literally have absolutely no clue what you're talking about. He's an escaped criminal who killed a bunch of people, or so we were told — why would we particularly care? It's not like we're his next target or anything."

Malfoy laughed long and loud, like he thought that was funny for some reason, but before he could explain — or just continue trying to peer pressure and bully Harry Potter into going and getting himself killed trying to capture some random psycho, as was more likely the case based on two years of prior history — Snape called out across the classroom, "You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's potion."

As everyone was busy cleaning up for the next ten minutes Malfoy didn't have a chance or at least didn't try to peer pressure Harry any more, and soon Snape strode over to Neville who was understandably cowering by his cauldron, fully expecting his pet to be killed in cold blood by his 'professor' right in front of his very eyes.

"Everyone gather round," Snape sneered gleefully, his black eyes glittering with malice, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

But before Snape could reach down and pick up Trevor, FitzSimmons jumped between Snape and Neville, wands pointed straight at the abuser's heart, Stunning Charms waiting on the back of their tongues ready to go if he made a single questionable or quick move — he could explain what he had really been trying to do other than curse them after he was revived.

"No — you actually aren't going to attempt to kill one of your students' pets because you're completely incapable of teaching him how to do your subject correctly for two entire years now, mostly because you've spent that entire bloody time doing everything in you substantial tyrannical power to terrify him into doing everything wrong, because you have some deep-seated hatred of him for some reason, and want him to fail miserably so that you can punish him even more," Simmons stated calmly but coldly. "So point blank 'no' — we won't allow it. And be thankful that we haven't killed you yet for child abuse, because we're very close. We've already proven that we can't get kicked out of this school — do you really want to find out if that doesn't extend to killing in self-defense as well? Specifically, defense of Neville's mental well-being and family, as well as every other student you've tortured over the years."

"Take points away or give him detention for bringing his pet to class in the first place if you want, because that is stupid and he should be taught the lesson not to bring his pet to class, but not by attempting to kill said pet because you don't like me or Neville for some reason that no one's ever bothered to tell us," Fitz added. "What you will not be doing today, or ever in our presence, is killing anything innocent. Got it?"

That last bit wasn't actually a question, and while Snape looked like he wanted to straight up murder Fitz, most likely Neville and Simmons, and probably the rest of the Gryffindor half of the class in order to leave no survivors who could go snitch on him to one of the professors — which might result in a light tap on his wrist from Dumbledore as the headmaster swept it all under the rug (like Voldemort renting out an Air BnB in the back of Professor Quirrell's head, and a basilisk living in a secret chamber in the school's plumbing with a cursed book from Voldemort controlling a student to unleash it) — but two wands pointed straight at his heart by the two students who had proven over two years that they were the most likely to actually kill 'God's Gift to Wizardkind Especially In Potions But in Everything Else As Well' right in the middle of his own classroom, kicked in his well-honed survival instincts so he didn't try to kill anyone. Also, he knew better than anyone that Potter was Dumbledore's favorite, protected by the headmaster beyond anyone or anything else in the world (even himself), and Dumbledore probably wouldn't be too happy to find out that Snape had finally completed what he had started thirteen years before by telling Voldemort the prophecy, and done Voldemort's job for the Dark Lord in killing Harry Potter.

So in the end he did literally the only thing that he could that wouldn't result in him being cursed, and turned and stalked back to his desk, growling, "Longbottom, detention and twenty points for bringing your pet to class, and everyone, get out of here! Now! Class dismissed!"

Smiling to themselves, FitzSimmons packed away their materials and headed up to lunch, pleased with a job well done of being a Shield, protecting their fellow students and keeping them safe, being the line between the innocent children of the castle and an abusive criminal put in charge of said innocents.

~FS~

That afternoon FitzSimmons had their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Professor Lupin.

When he arrived at the classroom a few minutes after the last student had arrived and sat down, he told everyone put their books away and for those who hadn't already to pull out their wands, and follow him down the hallway to the staffroom for a practical lesson. Along the way they met Peeves being an arsehole like usual, starting to stuff a keyhole with gum, but as soon as he saw FitzSimmons subtly pointing their wands at him behind their book bags, he soared away as fast as his non-human, non-ghost, sorta-spirit body could soar.

Because over the past two years FitzSimmons had made good on their promise that they had made to him on the very first night that they were at the castle, when Fitz had clotheslined him and they had told him not to let them catch him bullying any more students. For several months that first year he hadn't tried anything when they were around, but the first time that FitzSimmons did catch him bullying a student — giving Neville clearly wrong directions to Transfiguration class that would have sent him straight to the forbidden third floor corridor — they had both cast the Impediment Jinx that they had recently learned in their personal defensive/fighting spells studying at the being, sending it tumbling over in the air from the force of their combined spells.

And as Simmons proceeded to tell Neville how to actually get to class, Fitz reminded Peeves of their promise to make his time on earth an alternate hell if he continued bullying students when they were around. But Peeves had been a slow learner and it took several more spells that year and a few early the next year before he fully got the message not to do anything suspicious around FitzSimmons, and he started skeedadling away every time he saw them so that he could go somewhere that they weren't and freely bully students there, since the professors of course never stopped him.

But in the present, as Professor Lupin watched the supernatural bully flee with its proverbial tail tucked between its short legs, he said, "Well — I was going to show you 'Waddiwasi', which sends whatever object you start pointing it at flying very fast towards whatever you then point your wand at, but for some reason he left, and in a hurry. I never saw him act like that in any of my seven years here as a student, so be on the lookout for him to come back — he may be setting up some elaborate prank."

"Or…Harry clotheslined him our very first night here, told him not to bully any more students in our presence, and we've thrown spells at him every time he has since then, so he's scared of us and fled for good," Simmons drily offered as a potential alternative from where she was standing next to her husband. "We don't put up with bullying or abuse of any kind from student, adult, or supernatural being."

"Oh."

Professor Lupin stared at them in shock, apparently never having once in his entire seven years there thought of fighting back against the bully. Then again, apparently neither had anyone else, student or adult, in thirty-plus years based on Professor Lupin's approximate age and what he had just said (or before then for however long that the poltergeist had been terrorizing the castle), so while obviously a disappointment, it wasn't really a surprise, either.

But after a second he continued on, "Well then, shall we proceed?"

A few minutes later he let them all into the staffroom, which was empty except for one snake. Or Snake, to be more accurate — Snape the Snake, head of Slytherin House and world's biggest cunt, something he very quickly displayed for everyone to see when Professor Lupin started to close the door.

"Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this. Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Potter and Granger are going to stand in front of him and protect him."

But no sooner had he got the words out of his mouth than two spells hit him dead in the chest, sending him flying into the wall behind him, stiff as a board. For in righteous anger, Fitz had growled "Petrificus Totalus" at the exact same time as Simmons had shouted "Expelliarmus!" And with such power and conviction behind Simmons' spell, it had acted exactly like Snape's had acted when dueling Lockhart the year before, sending him flying backwards exactly like Simmons had hoped it would, as she didn't yet have a specific 'send someone flying through the air across the room onto their bums' spell.

There was a rather ominous thud when the abuser's head collided with the stone wall, but FitzSimmons ignored this as they walked over to stare down at him with their wands still pointed directly at his heart, and Fitz said, "You don't have the right to say a bloody word about what Neville can and cannot do when it's entirely your own damn fault that he's bad at Potions."

"And never let us hear you blaming your own failures as a teacher on him again, or we will do a lot more next time than having probably given you a concussion," Simmons continued. "We should have stopped you and had this discussion when you did it talking to Lockhart at the Dueling Club last winter, so that is our fault, though we did mention it when we gave McGonagall an excruciatingly detailed account of just how bad that meeting went before I took it over, so unless she simply forgot in the midst of everything else we told her — though she should have stopped us then and there and written it down — that is also partially her fault, but it is not a mistake we are making again. We're warning you one time, and one time only, right here, right now — never, ever blame Neville or any other student for being bad in your class when you do everything in your nearly unlimited power to make them do bad in your class just so that you can then abuse them for being bad."

"Quite simply put, you absolutely fucking suck at teaching," Fitz interjected to make sure that the point was crystal clear.

"Yes — what Harry just said. And after this class, and again after supper, we will be in the library learning some new offensive spells, and if we ever catch you doing this again, and that includes in Potions class, we will rain down hellfire and brimstone upon you without any remorse, and without any warning. This is your one and only chance to walk away without any more pain than the headache I imagine you probably have," Simmons finished up, before saying, "Finite Incantatem," and she and her husband both turned their backs on Snape and walked back over to where Professor Lupin was just staring at the scene too shocked to remember that he should be doing something as a professor, and seeing way too many similarities to James the seven years that they had been at Hogwarts with Snape as students, to think straight.

But just as he realized that he should be doing something, Severus shocked him even more by simply standing up and sweeping out of the room, not even glancing in Harry and Hermione's direction, let alone giving them a year's worth of detentions, taking off a couple hundred points, dragging them up to Gryffindor Head of House McGonagall's office, and threatening to expel them ten times over.

He turned to FitzSimmons, but before he could say a word, though he still didn't know what to say, Simmons said firmly, "Like we said — we don't put up with bullying or abuse of any kind, from student, adult, or supernatural being. Snape doesn't get a pass from that because he's an arsehole as well."

Professor Lupin continued staring at FitzSimmons for several more seconds, but finally decided to just ignore it all, as Snape had left the room already anyway, and so he turned and said to the class at large, "Let's take a look at this wardrobe."

As he went to stand by it, it gave a violent shake, causing several students to leap backwards.

"Nothing to worry about, there's a boggart in there. Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces — wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks — I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice. So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a boggart?"

FitzSimmons immediately raised their hands, but they were the only ones to do so. Professor Lupin pointed at Simmons.

"A boggart is a shape-shifting creature that turns into whatever the person looking at it fears most, taking on the properties of whatever that is, thus making it dangerous in whatever way the person's greatest fear is dangerous," Simmons answered. "For instance, if your greatest fear is a lion, it will turn into a lion that can pounce on you and eat you. Whereas if your greatest fear is children's clowns, you're probably physically safe, if less so psychologically safe — unless your greatest fear is psychopathic, knife-wielding clowns from horror movies, in which case you're in trouble. The one caveat is that if your greatest fear is a person, it only turns into a visual copy of the person with certain abilities, not a full living human with a soul and brain, identical to or separate from the actual person. And finally, if your greatest fear is an idea as opposed to a physical being, the boggart comes up with some physical representation of that fear, as it obviously can't turn into an 'idea'."

"Um — yes. That was a very detailed answer, Miss Granger, but yes," Professor Lupin said after a second, clearly shocked at having a student give half of a chapter on boggarts off of the top of her head, before continuing on, "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears."

"Excuse me Professor Lupin, but wouldn't a perfect sociopath who truly fears nothing be able to see its natural form?" Fitz asked. "Because it wouldn't turn into anything, either staying in its natural, unseen form, or else showing that it has no form at all unless it's being seen — Weeping Angels-style."

"Um…I…I don't know, Harry — I don't think anyone's ever considered that before, if there even exists someone who fears nothing," Professor Lupin answered. "But since we all do have fears that it can turn into, the fact that it changes into what frightens us the most gives us a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

"Well, for one thing, since we know ahead of time what it's going to turn into for us, we can already know what humorous thing we need to turn it into with the Riddikulus Charm, and for another, most people have different fears, so as long as you have multiple people facing it together, it either won't know which fear to turn into, or else will try to turn into multiple fears at once. Although that could be either good or bad, as if one person's greatest fear is women, and the other person's is snakes, you might end up with Medusa, who is far more dangerous than snakes — or even normal women, as she's a woman with stoning snakes on her head. On the flip side, you might end up with a snake with a woman's head, which while as creepy as bloody hell, wouldn't be dangerous. Or, if you can't do the Riddikulus Charm, you'll know what it will turn into and therefore what weapons you need to have in order to physically defeat it. Though speaking of which, what happens if you kill what the boggart turns into? — none of the books we read over the summer said what happens then."

Like with Simmons' answer, Professor Lupin stared at Fitz in surprise for a second, before finally deciding to just continue on with his lesson and pretend that Harry had given a simple answer that everyone understood.

"Uh…once again, I don't know, Harry. But otherwise, like Miss Granger you are correct. Which is why it's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake — tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. Though as for what you mentioned, Harry, about it turning into a flesh-eating headless corpse, while I suppose that's possible and would be more dangerous than either individual fear, I can't say that I have ever actually seen or heard of it occurring — though I don't know why it couldn't.

"Now, the charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing."

"Or your greatest fear could be Weeping Angels, and you'd be perfectly safe," Fitz interjected. When everyone but his wife turned to stare at him (being too busy rolling her eyes at him for even thinking of such a loophole), he continued on, "Weeping Angles are extremely dangerous creatures found in the normal world, but they can only move when you aren't looking at them. So if boggarts only take form when you are looking at them, and Weeping Angles are only dangerous when you aren't looking at them while being harmless statues when you are looking at them, it would be impossible for a boggart to harm you, since it would just be a stone statue of a fanged, angry-looking angel."

"Ignore Harry," Simmons sighed at Professor Lupin, shaking her head in exasperation at her adorable husband who was lucky he was so pasty and well-formed and symmetrical. "While I do think he's technically correct, it's a moot point unless there's a magical creature that only attacks if you're not looking at it — something like the inverse of a Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal, which is so mind-boggling stupid that if you can't see it, it assumes that it can't see you — although, honestly, boggarts are kind of like that when you really think about it, assuming it can look through the keyhole of that wardrobe at us."

"Hermione! And you rolled your eyes at my Weeping Angles," Fitz said half gleefully, half scoldingly, and entirely in love with his wife, shaking his head teasingly.

Simmons merely smirked back at him, as Professor Lupin and the rest of the class stared at both of them like they were out of their minds, never having heard of any of these creatures. But finally Professor Lupin simply resumed his lesson, saying, "We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please...Riddikulus!"

The class echoed, "Riddikulus."

Professor Lupin then continued on, "Good, very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville. First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

It took Neville two tries, but finally he managed to whisper out audibly, "Professor Snape."

Nearly all of the other students laughed at this for some odd reason, considering the fact that most of them had been at least lightly abused by Snape over the past two years if not heavily abused, so it made absolutely no sense why they would be laughing, but FitzSimmons burned in righteous anger at hearing that Neville's greatest fear in the world was a 'professor' at the school that he had no choice but to attend. Not that it exactly surprised them, but not being surprised didn't change the absolute horror that was someone who had been given a position of authority and rearing in children's lives being one of those student's greatest fear. Knowing that someone was being abused never made it any easier or more pleasant to find out for absolute certainty that it was true. It also made them determined to do something, even if they knew that it wouldn't work because of how well Snape was clearly protected, or feared.

Meanwhile, Professor Lupin was completely ignoring this travesty and horror, and merely looking thoughtful. "Professor Snape...hmmm…. Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

From there Professor Lupin explained how to picture your greatest fear as something less scary, such as Snape wearing Neville's grandmum's clothes, and then make the boggart assume that new, less scary form using Riddikulus.

"If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift its attention to each of us in turn. I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…."

FitzSimmons both immediately thought of Leopold, but making the Hydra fascist shadow funny-looking was another thing entirely, especially when it was part of one of you and part of your husband for the other one, and they both had a long and unpleasant personal history with it.

After several seconds, Simmons leaned over and whispered into her husband's ear, "Can I use May's whipped cream prank from the BUS days? Best I can think of for Leopold."

"Yeah, of course," Fitz whispered back. "But I've got nothing. And I never saw that, because it was me it happened to."

"What if you simply go with making it not scary and not dangerous?" Simmons suggested. "Professor Lupin said funny, and that laughter was what destroyed them, but there has to be spells as well, so long as you can render them harmless first. So maybe try thinking of something along those lines."

Fitz thought for a second, before saying, "It's not PG-13." As Simmons raised a pointed eyebrow, Fitz quickly hurried on, "Not anything we do! I was thinking of right after we got out of the pod in the mind prison. It adds you, assuming Riddikulus can add an entirely new person, but no one should be able to recognize Zombie-Jemma as you."

"Or maybe it's more like Eleven kissing River in his tomb," Simmons replied. "We only see the Leopold half of it, and the boggart will move on to the next person before it gets to anything NSFW. I'd say go for it, regardless of what happens. You're in a really hard position when what you fear is the dark side of yourself."

At that moment Professor Lupin asked, "Everyone ready?", so they redirected their attention to him.

But in the end it didn't matter what they would do to combat a boggart, as Professor Lupin didn't have either of them go. Because when Ron's legless spider rolled to a stop in front of Fitz, before it could turn into Leopold, Professor Lupin jumped forward and redirected the boggart's attention on himself, before handing it back off to Neville. In suspiciously perfect timing, the class's laughter this particular time when Neville faced Snape made the boggart burst into tiny wisps of smoke that dissolved into nothingness.

"Excellent!" Professor Lupin exclaimed. "Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone, an excellent lesson. Let me see...five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the boggart, ten for Neville because he did it twice, and five each to Hermione and Harry for answering my questions at the beginning. For homework, kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for me, to be handed in next class. That will be all."

When FitzSimmons were a few hallways away and completely alone again, Fitz said, "That was odd — I wonder why he didn't have us face the boggart."

"No clue," Simmons replied. "But I'm kind of glad he didn't, considering it's the dark side of you. So many awkward questions that could lead to, besides the whole embarrassment for you of us having to make fun of you. I would like to know that we can successfully defend ourselves if we ever meet a boggart on our own, but overall I'm not unhappy that we didn't get a turn. What I am unhappy about though is Neville's greatest fear being an adult here. We're telling every professor here, Professor Lupin obviously being the exception since he saw it first hand so he already had his chance to do something, about one of theirs being a student's greatest fear, until either one of them does something about it, or every single one of them makes themselves complicit in Snape's child abuse by doing nothing about it and letting it continue on when they can no longer deny that it is happening."

So at supper that evening they hung out in the Great Hall until Deputy Headmistress McGonagall stood up and started to leave, at which point they followed her out into the entrance hall, where Simmons spoke.

"We need to speak with you."

Professor McGonagall could clearly hear the graveness in Simmons' voice as she immediately ushered them up to her office, a place that they had been to more than a few times, and rarely under pleasant circumstances.

"What can I help you with, Granger?" she asked once they were all seated around her desk.

"One of your students' greatest fears is one of their professors."

"Ah, yes — I heard about Longbottom's boggart," McGonagall replied as if she were humoring a young child.

"No — I don't think you heard what I just said. One of your students' greatest fear is a fucking professor at your school. That is a fucking problem," Simmons corrected icily. "Short of a professor actually raping or killing a student, this is about the worst thing that can possibly happen in a school. Yes, students are often a little scared of a few strict professors — I'm sure half the school is a little scared of you — but to be a student's absolute greatest fear, which a boggart is magical proof that it is, is one of the most horrific, terrifying things that can ever happen. In a world of Voldemort, Grindelwald, basilisks, Voldemort's servants, snakes, bears, public speaking, darkness, the Vashta Nerada living in the darkness and shadows, your husband turning into a Nazi dictator, hallucinating yourself as a Nazi dictator, killer clowns in the dark, Daisy without her morning coffee, technically Daisy even with her morning coffee as she is the Destroyer of Worlds capable of ripping planets in half with her power, both of Daisy's parents, Ward, Aida, and a million other fear-inducing things, what should never, ever, ever be any child's greatest fear is an adult who is in a position of responsibility of their education. And don't you dare give me any fucking bullshite about 'oh, Neville's just exaggerating, dear old Sevy isn't that bad', because first off it's blatantly, objectively, magically absolutely wrong, as greatest fear can't be 'exaggerated', it is what it is and it always comes from something that happened, and secondly, and perhaps the absolute most important thing of all that you apparently need to learn, is that if a child is afraid of someone, you should always listen to them.

"Children have an exceptionally good sense for knowing when someone is untrustworthy or dangerous, far better than most adults because they are so much more innocent of societal conditioning and therefore react far more off of natural instinct, which is the number one way of knowing if someone is suspicious and needs to be payed extra attention to. And no, not all children's fears are founded, but they should always be listened to and investigated, because very often they are right. And we have two years and a week worth of evidence that would land Snape in jail for a very long time if not the rest of his wretched life in the real world where children are far closer to first in terms of protection than they clearly are here."

Like any time FitzSimmons spoke logically or truth to power in this world, McGonagall just sat there staring at them. For one thing, Snape wasn't going anywhere — Albus would see to that exactly the same as he'd seen to Potter not going anywhere (two minor summer snafu's aside). For another, Longbottom was too young to really understand what fear was yet (same with Granger making the complaint), and so since Severus hadn't exactly been the most warm, kind, caring professor ever (even she had to admit that), that's what Neville had concocted as his greatest fear until he encountered a real fear. And lastly, Potter clearly had it out for Severus just as his father had, and had now convinced Granger to follow along with him in his delusion, and so anything that he, and therefore she accused Snape of, was probably exaggerated anyway — pesky little details like the boggart not having family prejudice against Severus, and Neville knowing that his parents were tortured into insanity by Death Eaters on He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named's direct orders and knowing that he would never be able to have them back because of it, conveniently ignored.

And so finally she replied dismissively, "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. Longbottom will grow out of it in a few years, all children have silly fears. Now if you don't mind, I really have grading to get to before classes tomorrow."

Minding greatly, but also having had their point proved precisely as they had expected it to, FitzSimmons left to go find the next professor to repeat the last ten minutes with — though without using the time-turner to literally repeat the last ten minutes with every single professor, simply going from one professor to the next through the normal stream of time. Although it certainly felt like they were repeating the same ten minutes over and over and over, as all of the professors responded in essentially the exact same way. Two — Professors Vector and Sinistra — did at least ask FitzSimmons what exactly the pair wanted them to do about it, but then promptly rejected FitzSimmons' suggestion to go to Dumbledore and tell him that they quit immediately and would spread the word as far and wide as they possibly could in the teaching community if he didn't immediately remove Snape from all positions of authority over children and file charges with whatever existed of a court system in the wizarding world.

So by the time FitzSimmons had made it through every single professor at Hogwarts, they had collected a unanimous tally that every single professor there either didn't care about the students whom they were responsible for, or else were too cowardly to stand up for said students. Which was exactly what FitzSimmons had expected to occur given the fact that Snape had been there for as long as any of the students currently there could remember and everyone knew that he was abusive to every student not in his own House, and therefore also abusive to his own House through low expectations by never punishing or challenging or expecting quality work out of them, but it certainly didn't make them any happier about the horrid situation. It also made them even more determined to take the protection of the students into their own hands, to become the Shield that they had dedicated their lives to be, since every peaceful method of resolution that they had access to had been tried and failed, thus leaving them with no choice but the forceful route — reasonable men forced to do unreasonable things. When the First fails, that's why the Second was written.

So the very next day, as they had their first Potions class after both Snape's attempt to kill Neville's pet using Neville's own potion, and finding out that Neville feared nothing more in this world than Snape, not even Voldemort and his entire army of slaves (though oddly enough, for a world that was too cowardly to even say Voldemort's name, not a single student feared the tyrant more than they feared seemingly lesser fears such as rats, snakes, eyeballs, severed hands, etc), FitzSimmons had their wands in their hands by their sides as they waited in the corridor outside of the dungeon classroom, and then sitting on their desks in plain sight the entire class period ready to grab at a moment's notice. They also flat-out told Neville that he was sitting with them, to make sure that Snape knew that the boy was under their protection, and that just like they'd shown and promised at the beginning of DADA class the afternoon before, they had no problem protecting the boy with force. But Snape had apparently decided to take the preferred (for Snape) route of pretending that they didn't even exist, and so all things considered, Neville's experience in Potions increased infinitely for the better.

And as it turned out, when taught and gently guided by Dr Jemma Simmons, instead of abused by Snape, he actually wasn't half bad at making Potions, even if he would never become the world's greatest potioneer.