Chapter 13: (2) Chapter 3: Many Things, Much Plot 1/2

A/N: NOTICE: I re-wrote/heavily edited all of the previous 12 chapters. If you haven't read this since I started the rehaul, I'd suggest you do so that you are aware of the changes I've made. If you don't want to read through 90K words all over again, a full list of the changes can be found on my profile by chapter. And if you don't want to read that, then prepare to be confused since much of this chapter links into those changes. Fair warning. 4/28/20

Also, I wrote 90% of this in about 2 days between the hours of 12AM-3AM. Apparently that's just when I write the best. I originally shot for 5-6K, and then the last part ran away like a bat out of hell, so. Anyway, sorry this is late, late, late. Please enjoy a chapter that is so important you won't even realize why until many books later. Have fun speculating though. Also, a special little present at the end before the usual A/N and spell glossary.

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.

Tags: Appalling lack of Harry considering the fandom, Language, Sooo much plot, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Semi-tolerable dose of Lockhart - he's tangentially mentioned and that's as much as anyone ever needs of him, What am I doing with my life, Authoress Quote: "Fuck it this is the set up chapter and therefore has little canon in it", Children being the worst, Shikamaru having a headache, House-elves are the best - they should have revolted and taken over by now, I wrote this at 1 in the morning, Stop hiding in the tags and read the damn chapter

"Speech"

Emphasis on words, writing

Times

(#) A/N at end to explain stuff

Regular text

Chapter Summary: Children are the actual worst, but damn if Shikamaru will let Lockhart's stupid face be responsible for the death of an entire generation of them.

A Shadow in Wizard's Robes: Book 2: Chapter 3: Many Things, Much Plot, Such Wow

'Planning is bringing the future into the present so that you can do something about it now.' - Alan Lakein

Age 7: (Prompt: "The day Shikamaru got lost on the road of life... Or you know, just lost and ended up being late. You could go anywhere with that so I'll leave it as is." - as suggested by Murakami no Kitsune on , thanks for the prompt!) Four years before Hogwarts.

Shikamaru left the orphanage. Not permanently, but long enough that the orphanage staff probably breathed a sigh of relief and then proceeded to never report him missing.

Instead of staying in the orphanage under heavily suspicious glares, for two weeks, he travelled. He took a page out of Sasuke's book and just wandered. He had a fair amount of cash in his pocket from doing a couple of odd jobs around the neighborhood - something to be explored later when he needed a steadier income - so he bought a pass for a cross-country bus and didn't get off until the last stop, interested in seeing somewhere besides downtown London. He garnered a few strange looks, but most people ignored him, and he was fine with that.

Three days in, on a different, somewhat shady night bus heading for Essex, Shikamaru met Mike. Mike was a retired veteran who took one look at him and said, "Running away from home?" in an extremely unimpressed, cockney-accented tone.

Shikamaru just leaned back in his seat. "Orphanage, actually."

Mike didn't wince, but the disapproval went away. "That right?"

"Mmhm," Shikamaru said noncommittally. Mike sighed.

"I won't say nothing, likely wouldn't change your mind. You be careful, you hear? Plenty of dangerous folk out there who won't care if you're a kid," he warned. Shikamaru nodded and didn't show him the pair of steak knives he had tucked under his shirt. They wouldn't hold up in a fight, but they'd let him make a quick escape, and most people couldn't run up the side of the building.

After a few minutes of silence, Mike sighed. "Since you're here, you might as well learn. You know Morse Code?"

Shikamaru did not, in fact. He learned quickly, which seemed to reluctantly impress Mike. By the time they reached Essex, four hours later, Shikamaru had a good grasp on the letters and was able to slowly transmit messages.

"Not bad," said Mike gruffly as the bus pulled to a stop. "Keep it up, and you could signal with the best of 'em."

They both got off. "Good luck, kid," Mike said, turning to leave. Shikamaru considered, and then he stepped in stride with the man. "What're you doing?" Mike asked, surprised. Shikamaru shrugged.

"You're the most responsible adult I've met in a while," he said, and the most interesting. "Mind if I stick around for a week or two?"

Mike stared at him. Then, he shrugged and sighed. "Whatever, kid. Don't expect me to parent you or nothing."

Shikamaru sorely hoped he wouldn't try, but he just shoved his hands in his pants' pockets. "What else do you know?"

Mike shot him an unamused glance. "That a trick question?"

"No. You're a retired vet - you know your way around weapons and stuff," said Shikamaru. He wasn't in the Elemental Nations anymore. This was a new place with new weapons, and the sooner he learned how to deal with them, the better off he'd be. He had yet to see any guns in person, but just reading about them sent shivers down his spine.

"Huh. Guess so," Mike mused. He paused and seemed to weigh something in his mind. Shikamaru waited. "Actually, I'm on my way to a business meeting. If you know how to keep your mouth shut, you could come with me."

"Business meeting?" Shikamaru repeated. "What kind of business?"

"The kind that isn't strictly legal," Mike said easily. "You want to know about guns? I can show you some."

Oh. Obviously, there would be underground weapon trading, but Shikamaru hadn't really considered...Well, it probably wasn't the safest thing in the world. But he hadn't gotten many places by playing it safe.

"They won't kill me for showing up, right?" he said. Mike scowled at him.

"We're criminals, not monsters," he said. "We don't put a bullet in you unless we have a reason. I don't see you running to the cops anyhow."

Mike was extremely accurate in that. Not in the least because the police would probably ask where he'd come from, and he wasn't keen on returning to the orphanage yet.

"Alright. Lead on." It might be good to know a weapon's trader in the future. Who knew what he'd run into?

"Keep up, then. We gotta walk fast," Mike grunted. Shikamaru saluted sarcastically. Mike was a grouchy, sarcastic man. If Shikamaru was being honest, he was starting to grow on him.

…

"Where have you been?"

Shikamaru looked at the woman dully. He had no money left, his feet were sore, and he had a scrawled address stuffed in his pants' pocket. "I went on a walk," he said blandly.

"You- what? Where did you even go?" she demanded.

"A black cat crossed my path, so I couldn't come straight back. Then, there was an old lady who needed help crossing the street. By the time I helped her to her house, I didn't know where I was," he said. He should channel Kakashi more often; her face was turning an array of entertaining colors.

"You got lost?" she asked, clearly trying to keep from shouting. He pretended to consider.

"I guess so. The Road of Life is a long, twisted path that few can navigate without being swept away by the current of the world," he said, nodding sagely. She glared at him.

"Room. Now," she said through gritted teeth. He walked away and let a grin lift his lips. He owed Kakashi a drink when he got back.

...

Present:

Shikamaru followed Pimmy at a casual pace. The young house-elf was fairly brimming with pride at being able to show him to, according to her, a "secret place" where he'd be able to train in secret while staying in the castle. The Forest was good enough for target practice and letting off steam, but he figured that sooner or later someone would notice that there was something culling the spider brood there, so he'd decided to try and find somewhere else for most of his training and practice. It had taken him a few days to think of asking the house-elves - arguably the most knowledgeable of the castle's layout except for maybe the ghosts and the Headmaster - but he was glad he'd thought to.

Lockhart was proving to be more than just an annoyance. Intimidated by the utter failure of his first lesson, the man had retreated behind his story books and had taken to acting them out. All of them. Using students as props or extras when necessary. Fortunately for the man's obscenely large grin, Shikamaru had been left alone. Harry...not so much, to the latter's great consternation. Shikamaru had been on the receiving end of some serious pleading looks, but there was only so far he would go to help Harry out with the man. Meh. Harry could use the lesson in humility and keeping his desire to strangle someone in check. Or maybe that last one was just Shikamaru…

Regardless, he, and everyone else in the castle, would be essentially wasting the year in a fairly important class, and if he wasn't going to get proper instruction at school, he'd just teach himself.

"Here we are!" exclaimed Pimmy. Shikamaru looked at the wall she gestured to.

"What is it?" he asked, because he knew better than to take things at face value in an old, magical castle.

"The Come-and-Go Room, sir!" said Pimmy happily. "Yous must walk before it three times and tell it what you is wanting."

Shikamaru frowned slightly in thought. That seemed too good to be true. Extremely convenient, if a bit unconventional. "And it's completely safe?" he asked, because, well. Last year he'd stumbled across a three-headed Cerberus-breed in a supposedly locked and protected corridor. Pimmy nodded vigorously. Good enough.

Shikamaru started to pace alongside the door. He wanted somewhere that he could practice his magic and combat without interference. Somewhere large enough to not have to worry about crashing into the wall or ceiling, and maybe even somewhere with actual targets or dummies. Something-

Pimmy's squeak of excitement made him turn around. His eyes widened. In front of him was a door made of dark, polished wood that definitely hadn't been there two seconds ago.

"What..." He reached for the handle and pulled the door open, bracing for some kind of trap-

He stopped in his tracks as he looked at the interior of the room. It was a large space, open with a symmetrical square shape. The far walls were lined with wooden targets that would be perfect for his magic, and at the back of the left wall was a cluster of very anatomically accurate dummies. As his eyes slowly took in every detail, he noticed that, higher up on the walls were structures that vaguely resembled tree branches. They were varying heights and lengths, and… Actually, they looked like they'd hold his weight.

A way for him to practice air combat.

"Pimmy...this is great," he said, turning back to the house-elf. She blushed.

"I is glad you likes it," she said bashfully. She grinned at him. "Pimmy will be going back to work now, but if Mister Nara ever needs help, he must call on Pimmy!"

"I definitely will," he agreed, and she vanished with a pop and a cheery wave. Honestly. The only reason that house-elves hadn't revolted and taken over yet was because of their ingrained desire and need for servitude.

He turned back to the room, suddenly very eager to spend as much time here as he could manage. The Forest had been good, great even, but this. With the adaptability and resources already shown, this had the potential to be so much more. He grinned in a rarely felt delight.

It was time to get to work.

…

"One."

The command echoed across the room. Shikamaru watched, eyes narrowed and arms crossed, as Neville worked through the sixth repetition of his basic kata.

"Two."

Neville shifted again, straining less than he had when they'd started a month ago. Fast improvement for someone who, up until this point, had no training or regular physical exercise in his life. Sweat dripped down his face, but his expression showed nothing but determination.

"Three."

Grunting, Neville twisted, breaths coming sharply out his nose.

"Hold." Lips pressing together in a thin line, Neville's body trembled as Shikamaru counted to fifteen. "Release." Neville exhaled slowly as he maneuvered his body back to a regular standing position. "Good job. You're getting better - your flexibility is better, and you're holding steady for the full count. Been practicing?" Shikamaru tossed him a towel and a bottle of water.

"Yeah," said Neville, catching the items gratefully. "Just small amounts when I have time. I'm definitely more comfortable with the stances now."

Shikamaru nodded, writing down the progress in Neville's journal. "We'll keep you on this kata set for a bit longer, and then I'll find something more advanced."

Neville groaned theatrically. "But I'm just getting the hang of this one," he protested.

Shikamaru's mouth ticked upward, but he said, "Right now, we're just trying to improve your flexibility and balance. You already have a solid one-two combo for self-defense, especially against the magical community." Especially against kids. Almost none of the kids in Hogwarts knew how to fight hand-to-hand. The closest was probably some kind of brawling, and while that could work with experience and instinct, against someone who was actively training their mind to fight as efficiently as possible, it wouldn't hold up. In a few years, not many would be able to stand up to Neville if he was able to get close enough to land a good hit. And really, sometimes that was all that was needed to win a fight.

Neville tried not to look too proud of himself, but his self-esteem was low enough that Shikamaru usually encouraged more positive thinking. Doubt was good, but it could also hinder his growth and make him underestimate himself or overestimate his opponent, both of which were dangerous.

"We've got a study session in an hour, so shower and maybe get something to eat. We'll be meeting in the dungeons this time, password: bloodline," Shikamaru said as he headed for the door. Neville made a sound of disgust.

"See you there, I guess - Slytherin password bull-"

The door cut off the rest of his sentence, but Shikamaru got the gist. He grinned a little to himself. One of the many good things about Neville coming out of his shell was his inherent sarcasm finally starting to show. It was dry, so dry that most people didn't cotton on if they weren't looking for it, and it was absolutely hilarious to see Neville, flat-faced, blandly remark on something with just a hint of wry wit.

The first time Neville called into question Blaise's ability to keep from hitting on older girls, all of the people in the room had blinked, double-took and then either roared with laughter, sputtered and gone red, or, in Blaise's case, beadily eyed the boy and remarked on his new-found confidence.

Neville had only shrugged. "Guess I got into this house for a reason," he'd said, corners of his mouth curving up. Shikamaru had rarely felt so proud of a friend.

He took a detour. An hour was not a lot of time, but it was enough for him to check on the Golden Trio and make sure everyone knew when and where to come for the study group. While last year had mostly been focused on information gathering on Quirrell, he wanted this year to actually be productive in learning Defense. He refused to waste a year because of incompetent staff.

…

"What are we doing here, Nara?" asked Blaise. Beside him, Nott reclined in his chair. Both looked fairly uninterested, but the fact that they had even showed up gave the game away.

"Last year," said Shikamaru, addressing the room at large, "we had a useless Defense teacher. This year, we have one who is even worse. I started this group under the pretense of creating an inter-house study group to make up for the appalling lack of education in a core subject. Last year, it was a front. This year, I think we should make it real."

"Thank Merlin," said Terry Boot, sitting up in his chair. "Lockhart's been reading us bedtime stories that my two-year-old cousin wouldn't believe."

"The man is rather daft," Daphne Greengrass sniffed. "It's a shame, though. He's so pretty."

Millicent Bulstrode gave her a look of utter disgust and scooted her chair away pointedly.

"Right," said Shikamaru, because there was not enough money in the world to bribe him into handling that. "We all have resources that others don't. We all have things we want to learn in particular. Strengths, weaknesses, that kind of thing if you're into it. If it's something you want to check out, stick around."

No one got up. Good.

"Talk to your friends and housemates. But be discreet. I don't want the whole damn school to show up. We'll get started next week with the Freezing Charm-"

"Freezing Charm?" Nott cut in, sneering. "How the hell-"

"And tactics," Shikamaru said, speaking over him slowly but loudly. The best way to handle people like Nott, he'd found, was to ignore them and never give them a centimeter. He stood up. "Seventh floor, by the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Five o'clock."

Then, he walked out. Neville hurriedly followed him. "There weren't many people there today," said the latter, furrowing his brow. Shikamaru shrugged.

"Percy and Diggory couldn't make it today, and the dungeons make some of the others nervous, so they skipped out. We'll have more people next week." He glanced at Neville. "Consider bringing someone along."

Neville hesitated. "Is there a reason we aren't telling Hermione and them?" he asked. Shikamaru nodded.

"I'll be taking care of their education myself. A bit closer to our private sessions," he said, and Neville frowned.

"How come? Danger's over, isn't it?"

Shikamaru wished. "No. Voldemort's spirit - ghost, whatever - is still out there. Last time, he managed to infiltrate Hogwarts, and he almost killed Harry. I'm going to teach them how to handle the next time he gets close. The average wizard has a good grasp of their magic, but they're useless without wands, and most of them wouldn't know tactics if they got smacked upside the head with a book of them. Ron, Hermione and Harry? They'll learn before it kills them."

Neville shivered a bit at the dark turn to his friend's voice, but determination kept his back straight. "Me too?" he said, but it was less a request and more an ask for a guarantee. Shikamaru's mouth curled up.

"Sure. Just different things. Can't have everyone be uniform - we'd be damn useless. Find a subject you like. We'll see how to use it to make you dangerous." It was a promise.

Neville grinned at the prospect.

Later that day, at dinner, Shikamaru and Neville sat slightly apart from the others as the latter questioned the former over what they would be learning this year in the Defense sessions.

"Why tactics?" Neville asked, chewing thoughtfully. "I sort of understand why they're important, but wouldn't it be better to teach us defense spells and stuff first?"

Shikamaru sighed and put down his chicken. "To be honest, Neville, spells and hexes are only as good as the brain behind them, which is something that many wizards discount. For all of their problems, at least the Aurors teach their recruits how to think in high-pressure situations."

Neville frowned some. "That makes sense. I've never really thought about their training."

"There's a reason why Voldemort was so successful in the last war." Shikamaru paused, and then continued, "He might have been insane, but he was smart. He gathered allies - strong allies - who knew how to fight and who wanted to kill. Those against him couldn't really say the same; differences in ethics, I guess."

He frowned at the table. "Not to mention that half of the opposing force was a pseudo militia of fresh graduates. All of them were smart, but very few of them had formal training. They started out with only rudimentary knowledge in strategy, and most of them didn't know how to properly defend or fight back because they'd never really been taught. By the time they had enough experience to pose a threat to the Death Eaters, half of them were dead or Kissed by Dementors.

Add into that Voldemort's extremely effective fear-mongering and aggressive attacks on bystanders, and the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix were extremely ill-equipped. It was a one-sided fight from the beginning."

Shikamaru paused again. "Then, there was the Ministry. They should have been the ones to be on the front lines. Their Aurors should have been the first line of defense against the Death Eaters, and they should have had Curse-Breakers and Unspeakables dealing with the acts of terrorism. Instead, they were all over the place. There was no order, no call to action, and no real command structure. They were losing people faster than the Order because Voldemort created a distraction and threatened the Statute of Secrecy. They didn't come up with a secure system of keeping Death Eaters out of the Ministry or in prison, so they were also stuck hunting down old prisoners."

He sighed. Neville looked halfway between sick at the knowledge and amazed at how thoroughly he had looked into history. "If Voldemort ever comes back, God forbid, then we have to be ready. Us as a student body. There's no guarantee the Ministry will be in any better shape next time, and if Voldemort is smart, he'll try and cripple threats like Dumbledore. We probably won't be able to handle him with magic alone, so we'll have to turn to tactics and strategy. A little planning can go a long way in survival."

He turned back to his dinner.

Neville was silent for a long moment.

"How did they win, then?" he asked finally. "I mean, yeah, Harry took down You-Know-Who, but Gran told me that the tides turned even before that. In the latter part of the war, the Death Eaters were starting to lose more than they won."

Shikamaru's mouth twisted as he leaned back. "I'm not sure. Ministry records and public knowledge are surprisingly sparse on the turn of the war. But, given what I've read, I think there might have been a spy in the Death Eater ranks."

Neville's eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open. "What?" he hissed. "A spy on You-Know-Who? That's suicidal."

Shikamaru nodded. "Yeah, so it's entirely possible they didn't survive the war. There isn't even a mention of an alias, but there are too many coincidental arrests that, when put together, point towards someone on the inside tipping the Order off on future Death Eater raids."

"I- they would've had to have crazy mental defenses," Neville said, pale. "Gran told me horror stories about people You-Know-Who tortured, and most of it he did with his mind. Legilimency, they call it."

Shikamaru made a non-committal noise of agreement. Neville settled back into his seat, deep in thought.

"You really think he's coming back? You-Know-Who?" he asked eventually.

Shikamaru sighed. "I hope not, but I'm making sure we won't be caught off guard if he will."

Neville nodded. "Okay."

…

"What do you mean you had your first birthday cake at 12?" Ron gaped at Harry, who shot a pointed glance at Hagrid, who shuffled awkwardly and shrugged in apology. Shikamaru rubbed the bridge of his nose. He wasn't sure how they'd gotten here, but he wanted to go back.

"I mean, the Dursleys hate me. We've established that, yeah?" said Harry, and Ron nodded. "So, you know. They never celebrated my birthday."

Some people, Shikamaru had come to realize, were not suitable for child-rearing. He'd seen enough on the field, and discussed enough with Temari, to know that while nearly everyone had the capability to have children, not everyone necessarily should. And there were some people, he'd concluded, who just should never be allowed within twenty feet of any children whatsoever. Petunia and Vernon Dursley were two such people. Going by Harry's comments on his cousin, they hadn't done any favors for their own child either, no matter that they didn't abuse him like they did Harry.

"That's just wrong, mate," said Ron staunchly. "Next year, we'll get you a cake big enough for you to sleep on. Mum'll help if I tell her."

"You don't have to-" Harry began, ever uncomfortable in the face of genuine affection. Ron shook his head stubbornly and instead turned to Hagrid to begin the most aggressive form of praise for bringing Harry a cake that Shikamaru had seen out of his friend yet.

Hagrid turned pink and waved a hand, consequently nearly putting out the fire in his fireplace with the resulting burst of air. "It wasn' nothin'," he said modestly. "All kids deserve cakes on their birthdays."

"That's right," Ron agreed. "So don't say anything, Harry."

Harry threw up his hands. "No cake isn't that bad, you know. I mean, they at least left me alone most of the time on my birthday. I didn't have to make breakfast or do the laundry."

"Make breakfast?" repeated Ron. "What, did they have you doing a bloody royal feast?"

Harry shook his head. "No, usually just simple stuff. Bacon, eggs, toast, that sort. Aunt Petunia made me do a full English breakfast in a pan once, but I burned it and the pan. She nearly had my head for that one."

Now, most people would take this to be a hyperbole. Shikamaru, however, seeing how Harry rubbed awkwardly at the back of his head, said, "Did she hit you?" in the mildest voice he could manage. Harry glanced at him, unsurprised and completely casual at the implication of abuse. (1)

"I ducked," he said, grinning, like it was something to make light of. "Lucky that - the pan was still hot."

Ron let out a noise like a punctured balloon, and Hagrid stared in horror. Shikamaru breathed evenly through his nose and resolved to make sure Hermione was told this by him and him alone; Harry and Ron would only make her cry more than she already would.

"Okay," he said, cutting Ron off before he could startle Harry into defensiveness. "I'll talk to Neville and Hermione. Ron, would your mom mind hosting another person for a few weeks?"

Ron, ever quick to catch on, nodded immediately. "She loves Harry, of course."

"Good. Just a few weeks," said Shikamaru. Harry frowned.

"What's happening?" he asked.

"We're discussing summer arrangements," Shikamaru said succinctly. "For you."

Harry stared. "What?"

"You're not staying with those people for longer than you have to. I plan to have you out in a week," Shikamaru said, and Harry shook his head.

"I couldn't - why?"

"You hate it there," said Shikamaru. "Obviously, and for good reason. Aside from that, that household is an extremely toxic environment, and I doubt you'll get any actual rest while you stay there. I also assume, considering how much they hate magic, that they won't let you practice your homework?"

"No. Uncle Vernon put all of my stuff in the closet," said Harry glumly.

"They also put bars on his window!" Ron jumped in. "And they locked Hedwig up!"

"Right. Be honest, Harry. Do you really want to stay there this summer?" asked Shikamaru, adopting a no bullshit tone. Harry's face scrunched up. Then, he sighed.

"No," he said.

"Then you'll stay with your friends. If anyone has a problem with it, I'll talk to them." Shikamaru had no blessed fucking clue who thought it was a good idea to put Harry with people who hated and abused him. He didn't want to think badly of McGonagall, but if she knew what was happening and hadn't done anything...well. He was ready for any argument she might have about why Harry staying with the Dursleys was the worst idea since making Snape a teacher. And if it was the Headmaster who was letting this happen, which Shikamaru sorely hoped not, then he and Shikamaru were going to have a discussion on the proper management of orphans.

He put his plotting away for later and led Ron into a rousing discussion on the Chudley Cannons, which Harry gratefully joined. Hagrid, on their way out, wordlessly slipped him an extra-large tin of toffee, which Shikamaru took to symbolize his appreciation. It seemed that at least one adult understood how unhealthy Harry's homelife was.

Shikamaru bid Ron and Harry goodbye and went to find Hermione. Her reaction to the news was an explosive round of angry tears and then fierce determination.

"I'll owl my parents tonight," she said, furiously wiping her eyes. "They would understand - if they don't, I'll make them!" Shikamaru patted her shoulder and left her to violently scribble out Transfiguration notes. Next, he found Neville.

The latter's reaction was less dramatic but no less heartfelt. "Gran won't care at all," he said earnestly. "And we have the room. He can stay as long as he wants - for the next five years too."

Shikamaru clapped him on the shoulder in thanks and then went to find a book on custody laws in the wizarding world. Hours later, head whirling with clauses and subclauses and exceptions, he went to dinner where Harry, tentatively excited, informed him that as of now, he would be staying with the Dursleys for one week before going to the Burrow for three weeks and then Neville's. Hermione's parents had yet to respond, but she was confident that they wouldn't be able to say no.

"That's great news," he said sincerely. "I'll come get you on the seventh day and bring you to Ron's."

"Yeah," said Harry, slightly dazed. There was a visible slump of relief in his shoulders, and his face was turning from cautiously happy to full elation as the realization set in that he wasn't going to stay with the Dursleys for nearly three months. Shikamaru hoped that a week was a short enough time. Harry wasn't guaranteed any form of communication to call for help if it wasn't.

For now, though, that was one worry off his mind. Now, he just had to wrangle a bunch of children into semi-coherence and teach them strategy and tactics. God help him. He'd have to channel Iruka-sensei to even have a chance. There was a reason he was Jounin Commander. The worst he usually had to babysit was fresh ANBU recruits, and at least they already had missions and training under their belts.

He groaned and let his head fall onto the table.

"Shikamaru? What's wrong?" asked Harry in concern.

"Let him be," Neville advised knowingly. "He's got a big day tomorrow."

"Huh?"