Chapter 2: The Key to Motivation 1/2

A/N: I'm moving guest review answers for earlier chapters to the updated chapters from the more recent chapters so that they'll correlate appropriately. If the review isn't there in time for the update, I'll just answer it in the next updated chapter and label it as an answer for the actual chapter. Questions? PM me, please.

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, mentions of bullying, mentions of mistreatment of children, SPOILERS FOR HARRY POTTER AND NARUTO , warnings are individual per chapter, might change next chapter or might not. No slash or yaoi, yuri, shounen ai, shoujo ai, incest, pedophaelia or necrophaelia.

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

Disclaimer: Don't own, never will, either of them would be awesome, but alas there's a reason why I'm writing Fanfiction instead.

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

Emphasis on words

(#): A/N to explain something and/or justify something

Regular text

Shadow in Wizard's Robes Chapter 2: The Key to Motivation

By: AngelicSilverWolf

'We were made to be courageous,

And we're taking back the fight.

We were made to be courageous,

And it starts tonight with us tonight.' – Casting Crowns

Age 9: Two years before Hogwarts.

Shikamaru stopped. Shikamaru stared. No, he wasn't imagining it, his brand new owl was reading.

That was...interesting.

He blinked to make sure he wasn't possibly hallucinating because of sleep deprivation, but the owl was still there. Sitting on his cot. Looking at his book. For all intents and purposes reading.

He sighed and stopped trying to make sense of the world. Hypatia, his Short-eared Owl with intelligent yellow eyes, who was apparently much smarter than he'd given her credit for, seemed almost smug as he lay down on his cot beside her. She acknowledged his presence with a nudge of a brown wing and then returned to her…reading. He'd have to get used to the fact that he'd somehow managed to find a special owl amongst the rest of the already superior animals. It was like Naruto's luck had somehow transferred to him when he crossed dimensions. Somehow that didn't surprise him too much, but he didn't have to like it.

He groaned in time with his stomach at his luck. He had retrieved this particular owl from Diagon Alley just a few days ago, and she had evidently just been waiting until she knew he wouldn't get rid of her before revealing her higher brain functions. He wanted to wonder how that even worked, but decided it would give him a headache to think about. If he let sleeping dogs lie, maybe this wouldn't be too bad. Probably not, but he could dream, right?

His stomach grumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in a good twelve hours, having been deprived of dinner and lunch for misplaced blame - again. At least when everyone was asleep, he could sneak down to the kitchens to grab a sandwich or something. But, then there was the missing food to think about, because the adults were infuriatingly meticulous about food supplies. He could just wait it out and try not to hurt the next kid that came after him.

It wasn't his fault they thought he was an easy target because he was lithe and shorter than most. It was a little bit his fault that he slyly taunted them though (but to be fair they usually really deserved it). The missed meals were almost worth the stupefied looks on their faces when they tried to work out exactly what he was insulting. Almost.

He sighed and turned over to sleep. If he didn't get food the next morning, he'd just go out and buy some for himself. Hurrah for desperation disguised as desire.

…

Present Day:

"Nice to see you again," he greeted his owl. Hypatia acknowledged him with a flick of her wings, but otherwise kept reading. Well then. He thought he'd taught her better than that. He tweaked a feather in fond annoyance. This time she gave him a slightly reproachful look and turned her back to him as she flipped to the next page. He ignored the attitude that he absolutely didn't deserve and settled down on his bed. It was that free time after lessons but before curfew, where everyone was anywhere else, trying to make up for lost time or finish homework, which meant he was entirely alone in his dorm. Maybe he could catch an hour or two of actual sleep.

It ended up being less conducive to his health, ironically enough.

Duck, kick out, don't touch, his mind repeated like the life saving mantra it was.

War was different and yet so similar to how the books told it. It was violent and full of adrenaline, like in the stories, but they never mentioned the fear. The anger, the rampant emotions in general were too strong for words alone to describe, so maybe that was why authors didn't try. Either way, they also didn't properly convey just how many close calls one person could get into.

In the past ten minutes alone, Shikamaru could have died at least five times, if not for his fellow ninja, reflexes, or sheer dumb luck. Good to know.

"Die, fuckers!" some Sand-nin screamed. Shikamaru shook his head, half in disapproval and half in a dodging maneuver. A great example of how to waste breath, screaming at an enemy that couldn't think for itself.

"Come on! We need to move!" Ino threw a kunai at a White Zetsu clone in front of them. "Naruto and B-san are waiting!"

"Yeah, yeah, woman," he muttered, flinging himself forward with renewed vigor. "I got it."

The dream shifted as they charged, and though he knew this was a memory, it was with a feeling of disconnect, like it had happened to someone else.

The next scene wasn't so distant.

Pain, blinding, horrible pain from having his chakra forcibly removed from his body. He thrashed weakly to dislodge the root, but it only tightened in response. This was how he was going to die, by the tree root of an insane god, and while it was very much unacceptable, there wasn't anything he could do because his allies were going through the same thing and he was supposed to be the strategizer dammit-

It shifted again, back this time.

"Take care of your mom," Shikaku said, drawling as always, no urgency in his voice even if his death was imminent.

"Sure." His own voice was choked. He never could completely mimic that uncaring tone in hard situations. His words weren't what he wanted them to be, but they were enough, they had to be, because not fifteen seconds later, the connection was gone and all he could think about in the midst of people depending on him was how fucking empty his mind felt now, even with the link to Ino, who was shaking hard with the loss of her own father, but they had a job to do and they'd damn well ensure the sacrifices were for a purpose.

"Let's go." His voice was hard and professional, so different than his typical one. He'd mourn later, because now was for ensuring that future generations didn't have to know the world ruled by Sasuke's mad ancestor. "We have to use what they gave us. Let's take this fucker down." He wasn't one for swearing, but this was urgent and he'd never forget himself if he failed and-

He was dying. No chakra, or near to it. Even as his vision spun, he saw the empty eyes of an ally nearby. He didn't know who it was, and he didn't want to know. Familiar green eyes met his.

"Shikamaru! Eyes on me! Come on, not when we've gotten so far!" Sakura tried, she really did. But, he was fading too fast…

…

"Are you okay, Shikamaru?" Harry asked in concern. Shikamaru didn't respond, because he was not, in fact, okay. Not at all. He'd woken up not an hour ago with the lingering feeling of death. Not a nice way to wake up, even if he knew that Sakura had sustained him until a Naruto clone had arrived and helped him out.

But damn had that been too close. Death had brushed its cold fingers just a little too near to him for comfort, so no, he wasn't alright. Upon awakening, he'd checked himself in the nearest mirror to make sure he wasn't withered and decrypt like he could remember being. it had been a relief to see a face too young, because that was infinitely better than seeing a face too old (the mirror had questioned his wellbeing too but he'd ignored it in favor of being glad that he still looked eleven).

Not to mention that he was disoriented because he'd actually managed a full night's sleep by skipping dinner (something that happened about once in a blue moon), only to be woken this morning by someone shuffling around, feeling quite literally like death warmed over. At least he was in the best class to fall asleep in, History of Magic

Fun fact with Yin chakra, it made those nightmares feel a little bit more realistic. A stronger sensation of adrenaline here, a more intense scent there, and he had a recipe for a really shitty dream. Added to the fact that the dream had actually been a sequence of memories, and one had the recipe for a really crap start to the day. This would have been fine if some people had just left him alone. But no. Of course not, because his life was never easy that way. Or, any way, come to think about it.

Harry kept inquiring about his health - and while his heart was probably in the right place, Shikamaru had to wonder why he would keep asking after the fifth time of receiving unencouraging silence as his answer - and Hermione was constantly hissing at him to pay attention because she apparently had nothing to do. At least Ron was helping on that front. He kept telling her to mind her own business. It sort of worked in other classes, but History of Magic was so dull that even she needed something to occupy her time - ironically, this was telling Shikamaru to pay attention was how she did so.

It'd be amusing if it wasn't so damn annoying.

"Are you listening to me?" the focus of his grievances asked.

"Not at all," he answered, voice coming out rougher than he'd expected. Getting a full night's sleep really didn't sit well with him because they usually only happened when he was drugged, injured or having nightmares, sometimes all three simultaneously. He had subconsciously developed a sense of unease and wariness whenever he got too much sleep in one sitting. Hermione puffed up in indignation. Like a turkey. Ha. A really bushy, loud, female turkey (and what were those called? Hens? Meh. Animal expert, right).

"Well," she snapped. "Rude!" From the girl who was bothering someone who was trying to nap. "I was trying to get you to pay attention and take notes." Right. He was sure she was all about those altruistic intentions.

"I know. I'm just ignoring you because I already know what material he's covering," he said candidly through slightly gritted teeth. Then, he stopped, took a breath and forced himself to relax. No need to be rash and do something he'd regret when he wasn't feeling out of sorts. At least this body didn't have the twitchy fingers that his other one did, or she'd probably be some hair short or something. Look, weariness made him less tolerant, it was a fair reaction considering.

"That doesn't make it any less respectful to tune out the teacher," she protested.

"Technically you're not paying attention either since you're talking to me," Shikamaru pointed out, laying his forehead pointedly on his arms. Maybe he should stop engaging with her in argument. She sputtered.

"Look, can - can you just leave it?" Harry interjected, sneaking a look at his friend. "I think he's really tired, so, just lay off a bit." Wow, Shikamaru hadn't heard him talk bluntly like that before. Probably just for friends. He seemed like the type to suffer in silence. He knew the type all too well - he'd have to try and teach him some self-preservation so that he didn't go all stoic and emo and run off with an evil madman, try and kill said evil madman, and run off with another only to come back when that madman tried to resurrect a goddess.

Hm. So maybe he had some lasting issues from Madara, but who wouldn't?

Hermione huffed but reluctantly left Shikamaru alone, to his unending relief.

After class, he was accosted by Harry and Ron.

"So, wanna tell us why you look so bad?" the latter asked.

"Nice, Ron, give it to me straight," Shikamaru said dryly. Ron flushed a little but didn't back down.

"Yeah, seriously, have you not been sleeping or something?" Harry asked. His concerned green eyes unfortunately reminded Shikamaru of a puppy's. All scrunched up and ador-

No. Ninjas didn't use words like 'adorable'. Except for kunoichi and possibly Kakashi when he was being a sarcastic bastard. Great. Now he was insulting his superiors.

"I haven't, really. It's a muggle condition called insomnia that I have that almost guarantees difficulty sleeping for more than...I don't know, I've been averaging three or so hours a night," Shikamaru answered. He knew he'd forgotten something - his basic glamours to make himself look less tired. Harry and Ron looked properly disturbed. It was like they'd never heard of late night vigils or something. He was just constantly living the nightlife of a college student before exams. Without the coffee or the alcohol.

"That's really rare," Hermione said, joining the conversation, because apparently they'd been that loud about it. Or she'd just been hovering about. Probably the more likely explanation. "Don't you have medication for that?"

"Yeah, pills don't really work for me," he said. He wasn't particularly comfortable with chemical compounds that could easily have been mixed wrong, thanks. "Besides, I'm okay with the frequent naps. And, this isn't the typical temporary kind of insomnia. I think it's hereditary, not magic related, and very permanent." Well, even if it was related to Yin chakra, it still counted as hereditary. Ish. "So it's fine, I just slept in a weird position last night." Sort of true. Weird being completely rigid, but details.

They thankfully left it at that, though Hermione looked like she wanted to investigate further, and went through the day with minimal fuss. Thank the Hokage for childish intuition on how far to push.

In the dorm that night, Hypatia was waiting with another book, much to the other boys' bafflement.

"I-is that owl reading?" Seamus muttered. "Or am I seeing things?"

"If you're seeing things, we're all seeing things," Dean said, staring hard at the owl pursuing a large textbook over rodents. Clearly he'd never heard of gas poisoning to sound so dismissive about the possibility of collective hallucinations. Shikamaru strode over to her and ignored their whispers.

"Hypatia, meet my dorm mates. Dorm mates, Hypatia," he introduced. His owl looked up, gave a cursory look and hoot of greeting, and then returned to her book. Little troll - she was pretty great sometimes.

"So. Your owl reads," Ron said as if he wasn't quite sure he could believe it, but wasn't discounting it either because, hey, magical world. Most things were possible. That was pretty similar to his own reaction the first time he'd caught her.

"She's special like that," he agreed. Then he tilted his head to the side to dodge the wing his owl lazily swung at him. "Rude. There was a lifetime warranty on you." An idle threat and they both knew it. He spotted a plain letter on his bed. "What's this?"

"Can she...understand you?" Neville was hesitant, as if afraid of sounding crazy. His unspoken question of whether she talked back hung in the air.

"Most of the time," Shikamaru replied. "She doesn't always respond though." Ha, let them puzzle that out while he read this letter.

The flat and plain lettering alerted him as to who the sender was immediately, but he read anyway. Might as well kill a couple more brain cells - he had plenty to spare.

Nara,

Due to your prolonged absence, we shall be giving your leftover items to those who need it more. Stay at your school for holidays, and don't come back expecting the items returned. Do not expect further correspondence, and do not initiate contact with us yourself. After this year, due to the number of jobs you've held steady for the past few years, we will not be paying for your tuition or supplies.

The Caretakers.

Well, that was a good deal more professional than he expected from them. Also, longer in coming (he'd maybe been expecting a rant on how many resources they wasted on him the first week at Hogwarts).

He'd left a few old shirts and socks behind that they'd seen fit to bestow on him in their infinite generosity (sarcasm, of course), well aware that they wouldn't be his any longer when he returned. Thus, he'd packed everything else up of value and taken it here. It still rankled that they wouldn't pay, but he hadn't been expecting any less. It was why he'd gotten multiple jobs in the first place. Now he had a nice little egg nest stored up.

He almost scoffed when he saw the note about communicating with them. Really, who did he have to talk to there? And it was like they thought he was a bad influence, like he'd almost gotten the children to revolt against them or something (in his defense, he'd just been on the mend from a sickness and had been so fed up, he'd slipped with the sugar amount in a few kids' drinks. Result: chaos and sheer entertainment for the next six hours straight).

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, noticing Shikamaru's displeasure. Shikamaru just shrugged and let his face revert back to its usual lazy general uncaring expression.

"Nothing, just some confirmation to what I already suspected," he said. Yeah, that the adults of the orphanage weren't fit to care for other people, much less impressionable children. He reached into his trunk, pulled out a box of matches, struck one and proceeded to light the paper on fire. The yelps of surprise didn't deter him, and he waited until the smallest of corners was left before blowing it out and throwing it away. And that was the end of that. He could have used his wand, but there was something satisfying about lighting a match and watching it burn something.

"Don't we have homework to start on?" he asked briskly, and gathered up his pile of parchment and textbooks and marched out, leaving Harry and Ron to scramble after him. He had his books set up and essays out before they even sat down, and when they did, they stared at his work in amazement.

"Is this Snape's homework?" Ron asked, inspecting the two page essay. "On cauldron types? How'd you write so much? Your writing is tiny. And, are these your notes? I have five older brothers, the oldest of whom got all twelve O.W.L.S. and I haven't seen so many notes before." He lifted up the four pages of solid writing with the occasional picture to clear things up. It was written to be easier for a reader besides him, just in case. Years of experience with field reports and boxes in which to fill in not being big enough and people who didn't think like he did helped this process a lot. Not to mention that multiple resources made it easier to get information.

"Those notes are only relevant to this essay. And, I read a lot, among other things. You should try it sometime," Shikamaru said snarkily. And really, those notes were just the the essential information. It was amazing what a culture even so backwards as the wizarding one could convey with hundreds of years of information and experiences. Ron shook his head in frank bewilderment and started on his own, muttering about people with no life.

Rude.

He had a life that revolved around cloud watching, naps, training, occasionally reading and Shoji.

Shikamaru ignored him and started on the Herbology drawing of some plant that vaguely resembled an enormous Venus Flytrap, occasionally helping his friends with their work. About twenty minutes in, Shikamaru was interrupted by a timid squeak. He looked up and saw Neville standing beside him, books and parchment in hand, shy expression on his face.