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Shikamaru valiantly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "If it weren't for you, chances are Voldemort would have gotten the stone because the teachers were too busy sitting with their thumbs up their asses."

Hermione glared at him in disapproval. "I'm sure Headmaster Dumbledore knew what he was doing," she sniffed.

"Either he didn't know and left the stone guarded by puzzles that first-year students could get passed, or he did know and he put us all in danger purposely," said Shikamaru flatly. He wasn't sure which was worse, but given Dumbledore's complete lack of apology at the final feast last year, he suspected the latter. Signs were pointing in a more damning direction every time he thought the year over, and he didn't like what they were pointing to at all.

But that was anger-fuel to choke on later.

"But that's not the point. Harry, look at me."

Reluctantly, Harry did.

"Your own decision to investigate aside, nothing that happened last year was your fault. Maybe you shouldn't have gone looking, but considering the circumstances, I think you were fairly justified. You didn't make us come along; we chose to, and nothing you said or did would have changed our minds. Will you make mistakes in the future? Yes. But does that mean you should carry around guilt like an anvil? No. The best way to make up for your mistakes is to learn from them."

Harry hesitated. "So, you're saying I should look at what I could have done better?"

Shikamaru shook his head. "That's a good way to stay stuck in the past," he said frankly. "And while it's good to think about what you did wrong; you don't want to keep yourself from moving on. Instead, be prepared for next time."

"Next time?" Harry looked tired, but he didn't seem miserable anymore.

"The next time you're in a dangerous situation without any help from an adult or official, what should you do?"

"Well, that would depend on the situation, wouldn't it?" Harry asked, puzzled.

Shikamaru nodded. "Yeah, but there are a few things you should always try to do. One of which is to try and find a way to get an adult or authority figure even if they're not nearby or if you don't have much time."

"Neville," said Hermione in realization. "That's why you had Neville find Professor Snape."

"Even if they're not there, it's better for them to be notified and be on their way than to not have them at all," Shikamaru said. "But you're right, Harry. Responses depend on the situation. Which is why I'm giving you and the others situations to think through."

"For next time," Harry repeated, shoulders straightening. Thank everything he understood. Shikamaru didn't particularly want to deal with an inordinate amount of whining from any of them the next time he tried to get them to think outside the box a little.

Harry cast a doubtful glance at the paper. "Do you really think we'll have to sneak through a hallway, though?"

Shikamaru shrugged. "Hallway, narrow enclosed space. That was mostly to teach you the best way to stay stealthy."

Harry considered that. Then, he sighed explosively and sat up straight. "Alright then, give me another," he said. Shikamaru raised an eyebrow, and Harry looked at him stubbornly. "I'll take it seriously this time, no whining."

Hm. Alright. Shikamaru could work with this. He flipped the paper over and drew a square.

"You're trapped in a square room. The dimensions are…"

…

Shikamaru sighed and threw his book aside. It landed with a soft thud on the floor, but he made no move to get it. Instead, he ran his fingers through his ponytail, which was becoming increasingly out of shape with time.

Nothing.

Not one indication of how to get back home. Oh, there was plenty about long-distance travel, some ideas on theoretical travel across space, and even some actual examples of time travel for some reason, but there wasn't any mention of crossing dimensions.

He'd started looking while at Neville's. The upside to being an old-money, esteemed family was that the Longbottoms had centuries of knowledge on magical theory and history. He'd barely made a dent in their library before school had begun again. And now, without the truly astounding amount of trouble that the Golden Trio had gotten into last year, he actually had some time and space for dedicated research. Which was, of course, proving fruitless.

The librarian wasn't of any use; his association with the Weasley twins made her dislike him just out of principle, and he wasn't sure how to ask about crossing dimensions or essence transfer anyway. Not that he'd proved that was what had happened.

He stared thoughtfully at the stack of books on the table in front of him, all leafed through and skimmed over. A number of them got close, but none quite hit what he had been looking for. Of course, in a school of children learning about magic, maybe he shouldn't have been expecting much science. Hell, the physics books he got out of the muggle libraries over the summer had at least touched on an idea of multiple universes, though it was fairly recent and it hadn't gotten much steam.

Maybe, though, he'd have better luck with the Restricted Section. Maybe not necessarily with finding a way to travel across dimensions, but there might be some clue as to how he'd gotten here in the first place. Frustrating as it was, he couldn't remember exactly what he'd been doing or where he had been before he gained awareness as a three-year-old. But he had, and it all reminded him uncomfortably of how Orochimaru had body-jumped, except without the Curse Seal. And this was across worlds. Somehow.

Groaning, he thumped his head onto the table. Maybe he'd be better off just trying to finish his mission, whatever that was. It likely had to do with the prophecy that woman had spouted at him, which definitely meant way more trouble than he wanted. On the other hand, not having any information on his old world was driving him crazy. He had no idea if they were carrying on, if they had noticed he was missing - was he even missing? Or was his old body just in a coma state? - or if time had miraculously frozen there and he was stressed for nothing.

Regardless, just like Harry and the square room exercise, Shikamaru was trapped in this world until he either found a way out or, presumably, finished his mission.

"There you are!" Hermione rushed in like a whirlwind, brushing aside his many books to drop down a stack of her own. Harry and Ron were similarly laden, setting their books on the table with exhales of relief. "We've been looking all over for you. What are you reading?" She glanced curiously at his array of books as he half-heartedly pushed them into a pile to make room.

"I'm single-handedly restarting and winning the Space Race," he deadpanned. All three of them looked blank. Children. Never aware of current events. He waved a hand. "Never mind. What's going on?"

Hermione pushed a book in front of him in answer. He squinted at the title and recited, "Why My Child is Hearing Voices." He looked up. "Someone have a mental illness they never told us about?"

Hermione looked startled. "What? No! Didn't Harry tell you about the incident in Lockhart's detention?"

That had been...what, two weeks ago?

"You're hearing voices?" Shikamaru asked flatly. Harry nodded.

"Just once. Um, but Lockhart didn't hear it, so…"

Shikamaru, very briefly, wanted to shove his face into his arms and scream. "Of course, you're hearing voices that no one else does," he muttered. "Don't look at me like that; you know this is so troublesome it can't even be measured by normal standards. What'd it say?"

"Er, something about ripping, tearing, and killing." Harry looked somewhat sheepish at the blank expression Shikamaru gave him. "I haven't heard it since, though!"

"That's not nearly as reassuring as you think it is," Shikamaru told him. He sighed. "Possessed teachers, murderous voices, what will you think of next? Anything else you've conveniently forgotten to tell me?"

Harry, looking a bit eager to shove the attention off himself, blurted out, "Ron's wand is broken, and when he tried to curse Malfoy it backfired and hit him instead!"

"Oi!" Ron sounded appropriately betrayed. Shikamaru's eyebrow climbed up his forehead.

"And you haven't asked your parents for a new one?" he said slowly. Ron flushed and looked stubbornly back at him.

"They'd just tell me it was my own fault," he said defensively. "Don't exactly want to get another Howler at breakfast."

Fair. But also-

"Stupid." Shikamaru leaned over and flicked his forehead. "How're you going to do anything this year with a broken wand? That's useless at best and clearly hazardous to your health at worst."

Ron didn't reply, but he also didn't concede. Stubborn, idiot child. Shikamaru would wrangle up something for either his birthday or Christmas. He wouldn't allow Ron to accidentally fry himself because his wand was broken and he was too pig-headed to owl home for a new one. Hopefully, he'd survive until then.

"Anyway, we were just researching magical phenomena on hearing voices," Hermione cut in. Shikamaru didn't push it, and Ron's shoulders relaxed from around his ears.

"Maybe it's the insanity kicking in," Shikamaru yawned, swatting at Hermione's hand when she jabbed him in the ribs. "Yeesh, woman, I was kidding. No, Harry, I don't actually think you're insane. You just have the actual worst luck."

Harry could hardly argue with that, see: his entire existence. So, he shrugged and pulled a book over and cracked it open. There was a pause. Then-

"Hermione, how many of these are on mental health?"

Hermione, in answer, propped her book up and hid herself behind it. Shikamaru was actually surrounded by children, and it wasn't the worst thing ever, but that lobotomy was sounding better with every passing day.

…

"Deathday Party?" That sounded about as fun as a diplomatic formal dinner in Kumo, but without any of the food to distract from the awkwardness and stony silences.

"It'll be fascinating," said Hermione keenly, clearly not thinking about how ghosts tended to either be crazy or depressing as hell. Generally, with no in between. Nearly Headless Nick was a peculiar outlier, but Shikamaru attributed that to the fact that he got his kicks from yanking his almost severed head off of his shoulders and showing off the spectral yet gruesome insides of his neck.

"Likely to be bloody boring," said Ron grouchily, clearly not thrilled with missing the Halloween Feast.

"We can eat food any time, Ron," sniffed Hermione. "Besides, it's not like we have to stay. We can just look around a bit, say hello to Nick, and then come back in time for some food." Ron didn't look convinced, but out of loyalty to Harry, he didn't complain again.

So, a couple of weeks later, as everyone else went to the feast, Shikamaru followed Harry to the party. Nick greeted them, appropriately solemn. Inside, it was nearly freezing - close enough that it resulted in the same amount of shivering by the living attendees - and there was a band playing the worst music Shikamaru had heard since Naruto had tried to serenade Hinata on their fifth anniversary.

And then, of course, there was the smell. Shikamaru was too sleep deprived for this.

"Ugh," said Ron, looking faintly green at the sight of the rotting food and burned cake. "Why?"

"To make it smell stronger, I suspect," said Hermione, delicately pinching her nose as she leaned in for a closer look. She glanced over at a ghost who was unhinging his jaw like a snake and walking through one of the dishes. "Can you taste it?"

"Almost," the ghost said sadly as he floated away.

"Almost," muttered Ron. "Why even bother if it's only almost?"

"We should mingle," said Harry, peering at the rotting haggis with sick fascination. "Don't want to be rude."

Shikamaru left them to it, splitting off and making sure to avoid the numerous ghosts. Considering that walking through one was not only rude but also like getting soaked in ice water for two seconds, it was both a courtesy and out of self-preservation. Most of the ghosts he didn't recognize, which made sense, but he did see a few familiar ones. The Fat Friar, Peeves - he made sure to steer clear, because Peeves was chaos personified and he just didn't want anything to do with him - even what he thought was the ghost of Rowena Ravenclaw, though she tended to spend her time out of the public eye so he wasn't sure.

She glanced up and met his eye. It felt. Strange.

Then-

"Pimply! Pimply!" Shikamaru jerked out of the way of a wailing young ghost being pelted by peanuts from a cackling Peeves. He followed the trail of disturbed ghosts and found the Idiot Trio standing guiltily off to the side. Of course.

He looked back for Rowena, but she had disappeared into the amorphous mass. Stymied and a little bit irked because of it, he made his way back to the trio of Gryffindors.

"Proud of yourselves?" he asked. Hermione put her face in her hands, and Harry shifted uncomfortably. Shikamaru rolled his eyes.

He couldn't take them anywhere.

Nearly Headless Nick appeared out of the crowd and drifted over to them. "Enjoying yourselves?"

"Er, yeah," said Harry, clearly lying through his teeth. Shikamaru should teach them to lie better. Or maybe not; that would likely result in more headaches.

"Not a bad turnout," said Nick happily, ignoring the way Hermione's lips were tinged blue and the way Ron was trying very hard not to shiver violently in favor of surveying his guests. "The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent, you know... Well, it's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go and warn the orchestra…"

The orchestra chose that moment to stop of their own accord. A hunting horn sounded, echoing around the room, silencing everyone.

"Oh, here we go," said Nick bitterly.

Shikamaru had to carefully hold himself still as a dozen ghost horses with headless riders burst in through the walls. The assembled ghosts clapped wildly, though Nick didn't seem too happy about it.

The lead ghost jumped down from his horse and strode over to Nick, clapping him on the back hard enough that his own head threatened to fall off. The resulting byplay between the two ghosts was, if Shikamaru was being honest, interesting. He could see why Nick was stiff, but after hearing what he'd wanted from Harry in the first place, he also could see why it was never going to happen. It was superbly unfortunate to have the way he died stop him from joining a very exclusive after-death club, but that was just how life was sometimes. Or, how death was.

Nick left to attempt to give his speech, and he was thoroughly thwarted by Patrick, who was, in no uncertain terms, kind of a dick.

"I'm freezing," said Ron in undertone.

"Let's go," Harry agreed, leading the way out. The Idiot Trio made sure to smile very suspiciously and not at all convincingly - considering their teeth were chattering too hard to do so properly - as they backed out the door. Shikamaru just shook his head and walked out, hands in his pockets.

"Pudding might not be finished yet," said Ron hopefully as they walked towards the steps to the entrance hall.

Harry froze in a way that definitely meant more headaches for Shikamaru. He stumbled to halt, cocking his head and looking around wildly.

"Harry?" Hermione asked in concern.

"It's that voice again - shut up a minute-"

There was a pause as everyone else tried to hear what he was hearing.

"Listen!" said Harry. Shikamaru, Ron and Hermione all strained their ears to listen, but before they could say again that they weren't hearing anything, Harry took off. "This way!"

"Harry!" Hermione said in surprise, nonetheless following him. Ron was already running. No doubt, all three were running towards the trouble. Shikamaru ran a hand over his face, growling.

"Fuck everything," he muttered, starting after them.

"It's going to kill someone!" Harry said from up ahead. Of course, even that wouldn't stop them from going towards the thing instead of away from it and towards, oh, maybe a professor. If Harry got them all killed, good friend or not, Shikamaru would make whatever version of hell or heaven that existed a terrible existence for him.

They ran around the entirety of the second floor, finally stopping when they skidded around a corner and ended up in a deserted corridor.

"Harry, what the bloody hell?" Ron panted, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't hear anything."

Hermione gasped and pointed. "Look!"

Shikamaru peered down the corridor and found something glistening on the wall. Harry led the way closer, and the shapes slowly distinguished themselves as letters. They were-

"Is that blood?" Hermione asked shrilly. It looked like a red, viscous liquid. Shikamaru sniffed the air but couldn't find any of the accompanying copper-ish smell.

"Don't think so," he said, which didn't reassure her at all. They drew closer.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED, ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

"What's that thing hanging underneath?" Ron asked, voice shaking a little. At this point, it all spelled so much trouble, so Shikamaru didn't particularly want to get closer. In fact, he'd sooner just leave and let some other poor bastard deal with the mess, but the Idiot Trio inched forward despite what common sense said, so he was duty bound to follow them and make sure they didn't get themselves killed.

He grabbed Harry's elbow as the latter slipped in a strangely placed puddle of water on the floor, but otherwise kept an eye out for some kind of ambush. He hoped that this was just a very extreme prank.

That hope died a violent death when he saw Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff and didn't seem to be breathing, eyes wide and staring blankly ahead. And.

"Not the cat," Shikamaru said, done with everything and also kind of pissed off. Because, humans were one thing, but animals? That was offensive.

"We should get out of here," said Ron nervously. Score one for Gryffindor. Some of them did have common sense after all.

"Shouldn't we try and help-" Harry started, unable to tear his eyes away from the cat.

"Trust me," said Ron. "We shouldn't be here."

"Too late for that," said Shikamaru dryly as the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs came closer, like a march of doom. "Dammit. Couldn't leave your curiosity behind, could you?"

"Shikamaru, that cat is dead," said Hermione, scandalized. Joke was on her, Shikamaru was pissed and sleep deprived, and he wasn't afraid to act like it. Whatever she was about to add was soundly cut off as a mass of students came into the corridor and immediately spotted the cat. The silence pervaded the area like a thick, heavy fog.

Then, someone very familiar shouted, "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

On an unrelated note, Shikamaru was getting sick of Malfoy and everything he stood for and held dear. Students all around them gasped dramatically. Shikamaru was, honestly, getting fairly sick of that too.

…

Severus's day was going well, for once. He'd made no less than two students cry in Potions before lunch, and he'd stumbled across an interesting discussion between Minerva, Lockhart, and Filius.

"-fine the students want to pursue other avenues, of course," the latter was saying. "But some of the content they seem to be working with is...hazardous."

Curious, Severus drew closer.

"Ah, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, catching sight of him. Always an unfortunate occasion. "We were just discussing young Mr. Nara's little Defense club."

Severus's eyebrow rose. Mr. Nara's what?

"Mr. Nara has collected a number of students from the houses and created a Defense Against the Dark Arts group," said Minerva. For obvious reasons, her tone implied, though Lockhart seemed to miss it entirely. "I've heard whispers and rumors of the...intensity."

Yes. Mr. Nara did seem like the type to demand much, despite what his slouched posture and lazy drawl would say. "What do you say?" Severus asked Lockhart. The man, a buffoon, truly, beamed with a sickening number of teeth.

"I say that I am glad, for one, that young Shikamaru is taking the opportunity to try and improve. He took it hard, you see, after the lesson with the pixies. I imagine he wants to try and better his performance for next time," said Lockhart. Minerva's lips twitched, and Flitwick sighed. Severus remained stone-faced.

"I see." Arrogant, foolish, gullible; would the list of unsavory traits for one Gilderoy Lockhart never cease?

"We'll have to speak to him and at least get him to stop the unsanctioned activity until we can find someone to oversee the club," said Filius. Minerva cleared her throat and stepped away.

"I hardly see how that's necessary," she said, which made Filius double-take. "After all, we only have speculation to go off of, and we have no idea where they are meeting."

Severus knew that Minerva knew that it was really only a matter of asking the house-elves if they really didn't know. And he also knew that she knew that the two of them have had suspicions about the Come-and-Go Room for years now, but neither of them bothered to find it. He also knew that neither of them would mention that little tidbit.

"Minerva, really," squeaked Filius, plainly scandalized. Minerva raised an eyebrow.

"I would think it would do your heart good to hear that the students are getting in some extra practice," she sniffed.

"Practice," said Filius. "Last I heard, they were dodging curses and hexes."

Ah. That would explain some of the distinctly singed-looking students that had trooped into his classroom over the past few days. But considering no one had ended up in the Hospital Wing, it seemed worth it. Nara had likely been fed up with the lack of education in a fairly important area, so he'd taken matters into his own hands, completely under the professors' noses. Judging by the hushed nature of the whispers and rumors, he'd likely told the children to keep the group quiet, but he had failed to properly estimate the ability of children to keep their mouths shut on any kind of sensitive topic.

"My hands are tied," Minerva said breezily. "And Professor Lockhart doesn't mind. Do put it out of your mind, Filius - I'm sure it isn't a big deal." With that, she swept out of the room, looking utterly satisfied, leaving Filius sputtering behind her, Lockhart completely unaware that any of them were disparaging his teaching methods, and Severus hiding a smirk behind his long hair. Pomona, who had been eavesdropping, looked fairly delighted, and Rolanda was wheezing in her chair.

"Merlin, I love that woman," she cackled. Severus, for once, said nothing to disagree.

Now, arriving on scene to find Filch's abominable cat thoroughly petrified and a crowd of gasping, fearful students, he noted Nara smack dab in the middle of it all, looking very done. He was in fact frowning and looking down at the water beneath his feet.

"Is this sewage water?" he asked the world at large. "On top of everything else, we're having plumbing problems?"

"Shikamaru, be serious," hissed Granger. "Didn't you hear Malfoy?" Nara looked utterly unimpressed.

"I try not to listen to the words of idiots," he drawled, and some of the surrounding students snickered in spite of themselves. It seemed Severus' dear godson was not endearing himself to the masses. "What would he know, anyway? Does anyone even know what the Chamber of Secrets is? Or are they just scared of capitalized letters written in corn syrup and red dye which reference something that no one knows about?"

Some of the surrounding students stopped gaping and started regaining color.

"But...the heir of Slytherin," someone started. Nara threw his hands up.

"Does that mean anything to anyone? We don't know it's Salazar's heir - it could be the heir of the last Quidditch Captain for shit's sake." He heaved a massive sigh. That was about when Filch burst in and saw his cat.

"This is going to be my entire day," said Nara in resignation, ignoring Granger's elbow to the side. Severus saw him reach up and massage his temples as Filch started screeching and felt a moment of kinship. As he watched Nara's expression somehow manage to get increasingly flatter with every passing moment, he couldn't help but appreciate that finally, someone else in this madhouse had common sense and was suffering because of it.

Charms (Spells):

Freezing Charm (Immobulus): This makes its target unable to move and, interestingly enough, disables electronic devices. No time/weight limit provided.

Leg-Locker Curse (Locomotor Mortis): Binds the legs of the target together.

Disillusionment Charm (Unknown incantation): Spell to make something act like a chameleon, taking the color and texture of what is behind and around it.

Guest Reviews: (from bottom to top)

HelplessHare5: Your PM feature is blocked, so I'll answer your review here.

Glad to be back! Glad you're liking it! You too, and thank you very much for the review!

happy tears: Glad you were so excited! Thanks for telling me; honestly, hit me up with a PM and we can scream about Harry Potter or Shikamaru together.

tabi404: (Chapter 1): Thank you for reviewing! Glad you like my characterizations, I do my best. He starts out slow and then will basically epically avalanche, so. Look forward to that I guess. Hope you continue to read and like, thank you for the kind review!

Natalie: Honestly, you and me both buddy. Five years is...astronomical, and I remember being a young child (not literally) hoping people would read and like my story. I appreciate your kind words - to be honest, he's quite a bit more difficult than I first thought he would be, but it's been an exercise in growth and writing one of my favorite characters from Naruto, so I'm not complaining one bit. I'm glad you like the changes. I will absolutely finish this fic no matter what. Thank you for the review! :)

Ronski8: Glad you like it! Thanks for the review!

A/N: 2 things. 1: stopped doing the mini-author's notes in the middle of the story because it was breaking up the flow for me, and probably you. 2: I had so much fun with this chapter, but also so much trouble. The childhood scene at the beginning was a bit heavier than I meant it to be, but...well. I don't know what you were expecting from a scene where Shikamaru has to come to grips with his new life/body/environment. Thanks for the prompts; lots of people wanted this one so no special mention, but I super appreciate it all the same.

On that note: if I don't get to your requested scene in this book, it's because I couldn't write it for plot reasons, I couldn't write it because I couldn't get it down, or I just didn't get to it. Sorry in advance.

Also, more Snape! Yay! To be honest, he's a trip and a half to write, because he's such an utterly cynical, bitter bastard, but I enjoy the challenge of writing his sarcastic, mean-spirited wit, so.

If you don't know what the Wilhelm Scream is, you either have never watched an action movie from the 90s/2000s in your life, or you've never bothered to look up the sound. In any case, if you hear it, you'll probably recognize it.

See you soon I hope! Stay safe! Stay healthy!