Chapter 10: Quirrellmort 1/2

Summary: Motivated, miffed, and magical, Shikamaru Nara was a force to behold. Whoever had placed him here was going to get it, but first he'd have to get through a school for magic. And he'd thought ninjas could be stupid. Troublesome.

Rating: T, and should stay that way.

Genres: Friendship, Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, maybe more, I don't know yet.

Warnings: Language, SPOILERS FOR NARUTO AND HARRY POTTER, violence, some angst, first kills, warnings are individual per chapter, might change next chapter or might not. No slash or yaoi, yuri, Shounen Ai, or Shōjo Ai. Or incest…just…no.

Pairings: As far as romance goes, it's canon for both series. Friendship!Shikamaru/Harry&Ron&Hermione&Neville&Fred&George. Mentorship(maybe)!Snape/Snape. I might add more later, if I think of it.

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

Emphasis on words

Times

(#) A/N at end to explain stuff

Regular text

A Shadow in Wizard's Robes Chapter 10: Quirrellmort and Other Problems

By: AngelicSilverWolf

'First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win." - Mahatma Ghandi

Everything had gone spectacularly wrong. He just couldn't quite pin why. Well, no, he knew why. Quirrell had pulled one out of his ass and managed to gain the upper hand.

Shikamaru eyed Harry as Quirrell smirked evilly. The other boy was too close to Quirrell, only a few feet away, to pull anything unexpected off. Shikamaru didn't want Harry hurt because of Quirrell's reflexes, even if he was the one in the man's grip.

"Well?" the professor- evil bastard demanded. He tightened his hold on Shikamaru's throat, wand digging in. Shikamaru wanted to stab him. He would have, but knee-jerk reflexes weren't something he wasn't sure he could take care of in time to stop from having his head blown off. "Your friend's life for the stone. It's an easy enough trade."

"Don't even think about it, Harry," Shikamaru said flatly, just to give himself time to think. There was no way in hell he was dying here, he'd pull out a jutsu if he had to. It was a struggle to stay completely rational, because Ron was unconscious in the chess room, Hermione was hopefully safe watching over him (and where the hell was Neville with Snape?), but he thought he was managing pretty well. "My life isn't worth Voldemort returning."

Harry hesitated, looking agonized.

"Just one look in the mirror, boy," Quirrell prodded impatiently. Harry seemed to make up his mind, because he turned and started for the mirror. Shikamaru swore and made his decision.

He took hold of one of the knives from his holster, ignored Quirrell's derisive laugh, and threw it at the mirror. It hit dead center, and the mirror cracked and then shattered. Shikamaru knew of most wizards' hubris when it came to magic and non-magic, and the effect of the latter against the former, so it had become apparent to him that while the mirror was guarded against all sorts of magical dangers, the creators wouldn't have even thought to protect it against things muggles might use. Like, say, a knife.

Quirrell howled in disbelief and fury and brought his wand up to Shikamaru's head. Harry - who had whirled around at the throwing of the weapon - shouted in horror.

"Shikamaru!"

…

Seven days (168 hours) previous:

"Ugh. Finals." Ron stretched across the table and moaned, ironing his head into the wood.

"Don't even start," Hermione snapped. "I told you to start studying. But did you listen to me? No, Ronald Weasley does whatever he bloody well wants to, never mind what other people say that, Morgana forbid, might actually be useful."

Ron scowled and turned his head away.

"Real mature," she said snidely.

"I'm trying to study here," Shikamaru interjected mildly. "Do you mind?" Hermione seemed to swell up at this, and Harry snickered.

"Sorry," he said as she turned to him with a betrayed look on her face. "It's just funny to see him mess with other people."

"As glad as I am to be a source of amusement," Hermione said icily, "we should focus on studying. I don't want to fail."

"Relax," Ron said dismissively. "You're fine, probably."

"We've got our Herbology exam tomorrow and then Charms. Astrology is on Wednesday, and then Transfiguration and Potions. Then-" Hermione was cut off as Ron yawned loudly.

"We know the order of our exams," he said when she frowned at him.

"Alright, you two," Shikamaru cut in, "stop. You're disturbing Neville."

The latter had been dozing on top of his Transfiguration book, but the raising voices caused him to wake up.

"Did I miss anything?" he asked, scrubbing his face.

"Just Ron and Hermione arguing," Harry said with a shrug. Neville grinned.

"I said, 'Did I miss anything', that isn't really worth mentioning since it happens all the time," he said. Harry laughed and the other two huffed. Shikamaru shook his head.

"We're corrupting him," he said mournfully.

"There is no 'we' there, my friend," Hermione said. "That is all you."

"Ron probably doesn't help," Harry agreed.

"What is this?" Ron asked, scowling petulantly. "'Pick on Ron' Day?" The others just looked at him innocently.

"What are you talking about? That's every day," Neville said cheekily. "Didn't you know?"

Amid the snickers, Shikamaru tipped his chair back and mused that it would be nice for the peace to last. Too bad he knew it wouldn't.

...

Exams passed fairly quickly.

Despite Hermione's insistence that the lack of studying would bite him in the rear, Shikamaru did very well on all of them, coming in second in their year in overall testing scores, and this was only because he honestly hadn't cared about History of Magic or Defense Against the Dark Arts - nothing the study group had learned was touched, but he didn't think the others would be fussed since they'd all learned some new jinxes and strategies. Either way, it wasn't like they were meeting for the rest of the year, so no one could complain to him en masse about the results.

It was just after their last test that they got together in the library to give their individual reports on Quirrell.

"I heard a few Ravens talking about how he seemed jumpier than normal today," Harry volunteered, slouching in his chair. "They said he kept muttering to himself."

"Yeah, during our test he was all pale and stuff. Kept dropping what he was holding," Ron agreed. He looked weary from the tests, but relieved at the same time. "Think he's nervous?"

"I would be," Hermione said fervently. "Stealing something from Hogwarts is a daunting task at best, especially since he's been under heavy suspicion by Professor Snape." She tapped her foot thoughtfully. "I wonder, if You-Know-Who is possessing Professor Quirrell, if he'll just...take over to steal the stone. Somehow, I think that Professor has been himself all year - I can't really picture a dark lord stuttering all the time."

"That's a good point," Shikamaru acknowledged. Men like Voldemort had pride in spades; there was no way he'd lower himself to stuttering, even for cover. "We'll have to be really careful. If that does happen, then we're probably dead if he finds out that we're investigating him." Probably, or not. He'd like to see how a wizard faced off against a jutsu. Or just close-combat in general.

"Think we should tell Headmaster Dumbledore yet?" Harry asked.

"We don't know when he's going to strike," Ron said reasonably. "Not much point in telling him to be careful when he's already got a defense system in place."

"We need a definitive answer," Shikamaru said with a frown. Adults didn't listen to children, as much as that rankled, and they'd need more than suspicions and circumstantial evidence to convince the Headmaster of anything. And Shikamaru didn't trust Dumbledore to do anything, not when it was possible Snape had been investigating under his orders and nothing had been done. "I'll see what I can do." Maybe the house-elves could help.

They didn't have to wait very long.

…

12 hours left, tick tock, tick tock...

Shikamaru was walking with the other three, when there was a small pop, and a slip of paper appeared in front of his face.

Tomorrow.

It burst into flames as soon as he read it. He recognized the writing as the thin chicken-scratch of one of the house-elves from the kitchens. He frowned and turned to the others, who were looking at the spot where the paper had appeared in shock.

"It's tomorrow," he said. They started and shifted their gazes to him. "It's happening tomorrow. Quirrell will probably do it at night, after curfew."

"How'd you know? And what was with that paper?" Ron asked.

"That isn't important right now," Shikamaru said firmly. It had been surprisingly easy to get the house-elves to spy on Quirrell. They hadn't liked the feel of him either, and when Shikamaru had explained the potential danger to Hogwarts's occupants and integrity, they had become determined to aid however they could. But he didn't want anyone to know of their part in everything yet, just in case. House-elf abuse was serious, and he didn't like their chances against a professor at an esteemed school like Hogwarts.

"Right, so we just tell Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said. They set out to do just that, only-

"What do you mean, 'he's not here'?" Harry asked, panic lacing his voice. McGonagall raised an eyebrow.

"He has a meeting with the Minister of Magic, Mister Potter," she said. "He will most likely be gone until tomorrow."

Shikamaru ran through a number of curses in his mind. Of all the times to be gone…

Harry seemed to be of the same mind, for he scowled furiously.

"Whatever it is can wait, I assure you," Professor McGonagall said sternly.

"Look-!" Ron's frantic plea was interrupted by a familiar stuttering voice.

"Is t-there a p-problem, M-Minerva?" Quirrell himself walked up, looking pleased about something, though he tried to hide it.

"Not at all, Quirinus," Professor McGonagall said. "I was just telling some students of mine to relax. Exams are over, after all."

"Of c-course," Quirrell agreed. "W-wouldn't want them t-to overwork themselves, a-after all."

Shikamaru narrowed his eyes at the man and grabbed the arms of his companions.

"Come on," he muttered. "We need help."

And they did try. For the rest of the day, they tried to contact Professor Snape, but wherever they went, Quirrell, or Peeves or Filch seemed to pop up. The one time they managed to get to the dungeons, they were shooed away by a very irate group of Slytherin seventh years. It was like the universe was conspiring against them, or something (no owls were sent in case Quirrell had thought of that too, and they didn't separate on the agreed idea that being caught alone by a possibly suspecting Professor Quirrell would be a very bad thing, safety in numbers and all that).

"It's no good," Ron said eventually. "We'll have to go it alone."

"That's no good either," Hermione said crossly. "We'll be killed if it really is You-Know-Who."

"We have a day," Harry said reasonably. "I'm sure we can figure something out before then."

Only, they didn't.

Shikamaru was in the first year boy's dorm, dozing on his bed, when a frantic elf popped into it, right next to him. It squeaked at the knife he pulled out from its place perpetually under his pillow, but focused on him.

"You is needing to go, sir!" it said urgently. Fortunately, no one could hear because of his silencing spells.

"What do you mean?" Shikamaru asked, pushing through the fog of drowsiness.

"The Bad Man changes his plans! You just hurry! He is already being down there!" it said, tugging on its ears nervously. He swore. It was already almost midnight. Curfew was in full force, and no one would be awake.

"Alright," he said. "Thanks. Go find Professor McGonagall and tell her what's happening."

The elf shook its head.

"Miffy can't, sir. The Bad Man orders the house elves to stay away from the other Professors tonight. We can't disobey such a command from a Professor," it said mournfully. Shikamaru growled as he wrenched aside his bed sheets and threw on a set of robes.

"Fine. Wake Hermione up, and keep Peeves and Filch away from us. I'll deal with Quirrell," he said through gritted teeth (because he couldn't do it alone, no matter how old he was supposed to be). The elf bobbed its head and disappeared. He strode over to Harry and Ron and shook them awake.

"Get up," he said. "Now."

They both jumped up at his commanding voice.

"Shikamaru? What's-" Ron was cut off as he started speaking.

"Quirrell's moving early. He's down there now. Grab anything that might be useful and meet me in the Common Room," Shikamaru said briefly.

He left them scrambling for clothes and marched into the Common Room. There he paced furiously, mind working overtime. Why would Quirrell move early? What could possibly-

Dumbledore.

He would be gone tonight. Which meant that protection was at an all time low.

Shit.

"Shikamaru?" Hermione's sleepy but still alert voice forced his mind away from his whirling thoughts of they were incredibly screwed. "Something woke me up and there was a note to come meet you..."

He nodded curtly.

"Quirrell's moving early. I think it's because Dumbledore isn't here," he said. She gasped and Ron - who had entered the room in time to hear that tidbit - cursed.

"What are we going to do?" she asked faintly. Shikamaru raised an eyebrow.

"Go after him," he said. She paled visibly, but waited for him to explain. "We don't have time to grab a Professor and explain. He could already have the stone. Which means that we need to get there as quickly as possible-"

"What are you guys doing up?" Neville asked, yawning. "I heard noise."

Shikamaru stopped. He eyed the other boy thoughtfully.

"Go back to sleep," Ron said roughly. Shikamaru raised a hand.

"No," he said. "He can help." He ignored Ron's gaping expression and gave Neville a serious look that caused him to straighten instinctively.

"Neville, I need you to do something that you're really not going to want to do," he said. Neville gulped.

"This is about the thing with Professor Quirrell, isn't it?" he asked. Shikamaru nodded. "Then - then I'll do it."

Shikamaru grinned sharply in spite of his apprehension.

…

45 minutes...ready - setgo...

"I can't believe you sent him to get Snape," Ron whispered as they crept along in the castle. Shikamaru was under several stealth charms, and the other three were under Harry's newly regained (by about a week) invisibility cloak. "Bloke's going to piss himself from fear."

"So you've said. Now shush," Shikamaru said, casting his eyes in all directions. So far, the house-elf seemed to be doing its job, because they hadn't run into anyone. They reached the forbidden corridor in record time, and squeezed into the room with the three-headed dog with utmost care. Oddly enough, there was a harp playing softly (1), but since it seemed to be keeping the dog asleep, no one complained. Unfortunately, this only proved that someone had been there before them.

They dropped through the trapdoor one by one - and were met with an enormous amount of a thick, cord-like, substance, which proceeded to try to strangle the life out of them. Shikamaru swore and jumped away and towards the wall.

"It's Devil's Snare!" Hermione cried, kicking away a piece of plant that tried to circle around her legs. "It must be Professor Sprout's contribution."

"Well, now that we know what it is, maybe we could, I don't know, get rid of it?" Ron snarled, fighting a tendril away from his chest. Harry was struggling to breathe through a small one tightening around his throat, and Shikamaru sliced through another that had attached itself to his leg with a knife.

"They like the cold and dark," Hermione said, obviously thinking furiously.

"So light a fire," Harry choked.

"But we don't have any wood!" Hermione wailed, wringing her hands.

"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?" Hermione flushed and pulled out her wand. She muttered a spell and blue flames shot out of her wand. The plant was quick in retreating afterwards, flailing and writhing in an attempt to escape.

"Lucky Hermione knew that spell," Harry said, rubbing his neck.

"Lucky you suggested the fire bit. No wood...honestly," Ron said, shaking his head. The four of them ventured onward, silent in their thoughts. The sound of fluttering wings soon reached their ears as they continued down the passageway, causing them to pause.

"D'you hear that?" Ron whispered.

"Maybe it's a ghost?" Hermione suggested, also whispering. Shikamaru shook his head.

"Sounds...metallic, almost."

They inched into a brilliant lit chamber with hundreds of what looked like extremely shiny birds at first, but upon taking a closer look-

"Keys!" Harry said. "They're keys."

"Let's try the door, I don't fancy getting attacked by large metal objects with wings," Hermione suggested with a shudder. They tried the door, which was locked, and attempted to use a spell to unlock it, which failed.

"Worth a try," Hermione sighed, turning to the keys.

"Brooms," Harry noted, pointing. And indeed, there were three brooms sitting innocently on the floor.

"We'll probably get attacked as soon as we touch them, won't we?" Ron said in a resigned tone.

"Yeah," Shikamaru said with a nod. "Well, have fun. I'll stay in the ground to try and do damage control." The others gave him looks. "What? I'm no good on a broom. I'll use a Freezing Charm to make them stay in place."

"What if Professor Flitwick has done something to protect them?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms.

"I'll think of something. Go, we're losing time," Shikamaru said, pulling his wand out to start freezing the keys in place. "Try to find a big one that looks fairly old." The others sighed and mounted a broom each.

Several frantic, scratch-filled minutes later, the key was through the lock and they were in the next room with...an unconscious troll.

"Glad we didn't have to fight that one," Hermione whispered fervently, absently rubbing where a key had scratched her nose.

"Come on, I can't breathe," Ron said through a handful of his robes. They scurried to the next room, which had a floor of black and white tiles, and was filled with large stone structures. A chess board, then. "We'll have to play our way across," Ron said, echoing Shikamaru's thoughts.

"You take the lead on this," Shikamaru said, studying the board with a critical eye.

"Are you sure?" the former asked doubtfully.

"Yeah. I'm more familiar with shōgi, and while they're similar, they do have a few key strategical differences" Shikamaru said. "And Hermione and Harry aren't as skilled in strategy games like this." Ron nodded.

"Alright then," he agreed bravely. "You take the place of that Rook. Hermione, go in for that Castle, and Harry, you that Bishop." The three quickly moved, taking place of the pieces that seemed to hear Ron's commands and moved out of the way.

"What about you?" Harry asked. Ron grinned tightly.

"I'll be a Knight."

And then the game started. It wasn't particularly slow, but the anticipation made every turn feel like an eternity. The first shock came from the loss of the first Knight. Shikamaru stared in morbid fascination as the White Queen dragged their Knight off the board. He'd seen wizard chess before, but that seemed...excessive.

"Had to let that happen," Ron said shakily. "That leaves you free to take that Bishop, Hermione, go ahead."

It was a merciless game, and while they lost a good deal of pieces, Ron himself seemed to take out just as many of the enemy. Then, they came to a bit of a standstill.

"Let me think..." Ron said, biting his lip as he thought furiously. Shikamaru would have been impressed with his strategic abilities had he not been distracted by the White Queen turning to face his friend. "Yes... it's the only way," Ron said softly. Hermione and Harry protested loudly, but Shikamaru stayed grimly silent. It was an unfortunate necessity, and both of the strategists knew it.

"That's chess!" Ron snapped. "You have to make some sacrifices. I'll let her take me, and that will leave you to take the King, Harry."

"But-"

"Do you want to stop Quirrell or not?" Ron demanded. This stopped the others' protests. "Once I'm down, Harry, take out the King. That should let you go to the other room. Don't look back and don't stop, I'll be fine." And without another word, he stepped forward.

The White Queen brought her arm down on his head, and he collapsed. Hermione screamed, but she didn't move. Harry moved and put the King in checkmate, determined and pale. As soon as the King threw down his crown, all three of them ran towards Ron. Shikamaru checked his pulse. Still there. Thank God. His head seemed to be alright as well.

"He's alive," he said curtly, "but he probably has a concussion. He'll be okay for now."

The other two sighed in relief.