AN: Hi hi! Thank you thank you thank you for reviewing! Got lots of constructive criticism this round :D Thanks so so much for replying to my questions! My sister beta'd half of it. And then she was too busy (it was her birthday~). If there's a noticeable difference, tell me ;) Pace yourselves, because I don't know when I'll be able to post the next chapter (latest in May- after school ends) Anyways, here's chapter 10 (8400 words)~

He had a very nice dream. Well, at least it felt like he had a very nice dream. Too bad he couldn't remember it. It almost felt like Konoha with the golden sunlight warming up against his face, spilling in from the nearby window. However, he was abruptly roused from his beautiful nap by a sharp killer's intent. His eyes had urgently flashed open only to see the tall figure of a very angry Professor McGonagall, standing right at the corner of his desk. Her mouth looked like it had been slit by a knife while her eyes, narrowed and blazing, sent him a glare uncomfortably reminiscent of his own mother's.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Nara. If you were not an exchange student, I would have asked you to leave without even a blink of an eye. Being that you are, I must discipline you on the importance of my lectures. It is both my responsibility and yours to maintain the safety in the classroom. You must pay attention to my words in order to fully comprehend the principles of Transfiguration and to avoid its multiple dangers. Do you understand?" Her voice, never wavering and dangerously quiet, was severely strict and she never took her eyes away from his. She also gave him a very distinct chill down his spine and he even had beads of sweat forming at his hairline, eerily reminding him of the dangerous aura that emanated from the Fifth Hokage herself. He noted that she even had her wand in hand.

"Yes, Professor," he said almost meekly. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ron muffle a snigger.

Accepting his word, the Transfiguration professor whisked around and strode stiffly back to the front of the room in clicking broad steps, speaking articulately as she went.

"Class, you will now practice conjuration. We are starting with butterflies– in other words, invertebrates, which are much simpler to cast. As the year progresses, we will move on to other animals such as rodents and birds. Therefore, you must solidify your understanding now in order to accomplish the more advanced transfigurations next term. Is that clear?" Her steely eyes slowly scanned the room, taking in the subdued students obediently sitting in their chairs.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall," said the class in close unison.

"Good. The incantation is Papilio, however, you will be expected to be able to conjure them non-verbally later on. You may begin." The tension in the class lessened considerable as students broke into soft conversation. The volume level rose as distinct calls of "Papilio!" were heard throughout the classroom.

Conjuring butterflies, huh? That sounded easy enough, and he recalled being able to conjure birds during his summer session as well. He sure was glad that his charge had picked a seat close to the window, so he had settled down in the window seat to his immediate left. And, what luck - even the weather Gods were in his favour - the clear blue skies and happy drifting clouds were a great sight to behold. Since he wasn't outside, he couldn't feel the cool wind blowing against his face, but he wasn't picky. He took what he got and leaned back with his hands folded leisurely behind his head to admire the free, white softness floating across the sky.

Professor McGonagall was on him within seconds.

"Why are you not practicing conjuration, Nara?" She asked heatedly. It seemed that her eagle eyes never left him since he fell asleep. Her expression hadn't changed since she last lectured him, though he swore that there was a throbbing vein at her temple.

"Because I can already do them," he admitted honestly. An eyebrow went up. So high up that it disappeared beneath the brim of her witch's hat.

"Please, do show me," she said, her skepticism only drawing a few light lines on her face.

He nodded. Regretfully sitting back upright in his chair, he brought his wand up. Performing a swift swish and jab combination without uttering a single word, he directed the gathered chakra into various shapes and sizes, imagining the colours of Konoha forest insects. Beautiful butterflies tinted gradient indigo, violet and magenta sprouted majestically from the tip of his wand, fluttering into the air to dance joyously above the students in a brilliant whirlwind of hues.

Mouth only slightly agape, the professor stood speechless, now with both her eyebrows missing beneath the brim of her hat. The class had hushed at the glowing display, the insects flying this way and that at the ceiling of the classroom. Their translucent wings reflected off some of the sunlight, and as they twirled and spun, they created rainbows of colour on the walls of the classroom just like if it had walls of stained glass.

"Oooh, pretty..." said Parvati Patil after a few seconds.

The voice seemed to snap Professor McGonagall out of her shock, and she quickly recovered back into her strict poise.

"Very well done," she said with slight incredulity in her voice. "Ten points to Gryffindor, however sleeping in my class is not to be tolerated, Mr. Nara. I expect much better behaviour from you in the future."

"Yes, Professor," he repeated earnestly. That killing intent would be more than enough to get him back in position because he would definitely not appreciate having to deal with the trouble on the other side of her wand.

By the end of class, only a few other butterflies had joined his, including Hermione's red and orange monarchs. As they headed out the door, Hermione chastised him.

"You know, you should really stop sleeping in class. Never mind if you don't care about learning, you will end up losing all of Gryffindor's points!" she accused vehemently as they weaved through the after class bustle.

"He earned half of them back though," said Harry cautiously, "and he should have for DADA too if Snape wasn't being such a prat," he added while narrowly sidestepping an undercurrent of running first-years.

"Yeah," chortled Ron as they headed down south on one of the moving staircases to the Great Hall. Shikamaru noted how it was Mars in line with the Earth tonight as the trio subconsciously picked the one that was aligned with the moon. "But mate, how can you do all this stuff? You even conjured non-verbally!"

Oh damn. Was he being too good at school? That was a definite first. Ron looked in awe of him and Harry even had a curious glint of his eye. Unfortunately, Hermione had an air of unhappiness with her downcast eyes that might've even been tinged with slight jealousy. A note to self: do not be better than their best student in class.

"I actually learned some non-verbal casting before I came here," he covered easily while absentmindedly skipping over the trick step, "So it's coming much easier to me. I'm making it a habit to conjure non-verbally with normal spells too, so I'm getting used to it."

"Where did you go to school again?" asked Harry. Shikamaru recalled that Professor Dumbledore never did mention it anyways as Harry was racking his memory for a name.

"Konoha Academy of Japan," he replied as they finally walked into the candlelit warmth of the Great Hall. "It's one of the smaller ones in the region. Some of the curriculum is different, but most of it is the same," he said when they chose a seat near the far end of the Gryffindor table.

"Really? What other sorts of magic do you have there?" asked Hermione fascinatingly, cheered up after having learned that he had had a head start on the material. A clock strongly rang six vibrant chimes somewhere from the bowels of the castle and, right on cue, the glittering magic transported the evening's dinner in front of them.

"Students there are also required to learn battle tactics and physical dueling skills," he said thinking of field strategy class and the practical acrobatics of shinobi fighting as he, once again, spooned whatever was in front of him onto his plate. "Just like you guys though, we have to learn history and the different branches of magic. We didn't have Care for Magical Creatures though, or Divination." Hermione smirked at that, based on her bias of Divination being the most useless subject in their course list. Ron rolled his eyes as he piled his plate dangerously high with what Shikarmaru now knew to be roast beef, boiled potatoes and kippers drizzled in gravy.

"Wait, acrobatics?" puzzled Harry, pausing with his fork halfway to his mouth. "So like what they do in the circus and stuff?"

"Yeah, I guess you could call it that. Somersaults, flips, and being agile overall really helps in battle." Harry nodded wisely in understanding, from his own personal experience no doubt. Hermione had a thoughtful expression on her face as she tapped her lip, reflecting on the idea of tough physical exercise while Ron was busy stuffing his face. "We even practice tree jumping," he added casually to a vigourous snort from Harry, "and if you've ever been to my country, it's dead useful."

"Cer-kis? Wha's tha'?" garbled out Ron while spewing out spittles of half eaten sausage.

"Never mind, Ron," said Hermione, torn between amusement at his twisted pronunciation and repulsion at his open mouth of chewed food.

Swallowing quickly and somehow, without choking, he asked with a new found fire. "Do you have sports at your school? Like Quidditch?"

"Actually no," he said, while noticing that Ron's plate was now pretty much clean, with its owner reaching to grab more dinner. His own plate was only a third empty –maybe he ate too slowly... "We played sports by ourselves, but they were mostly games that we made up like races or obstacle courses." Ron was putting in fork after fork of food into his mouth without pause, eating at an incredible speed with no signs of slowing down. On second thought, it was probably Ron that was eating too fast. His energetic style of inhaling-food-as-if-his-life-depended-on-it brought a smile to Shikamaru's lips. He might have found Chouji a contender in food-eating.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Quidditch?!" Ron exclaimed between swallows. Harry spun his head around at that too.

"I have..." he said tentatively, identifying an avid fan or two. "I've just never tried flying." He saw a light smirk form within Hermione's facial expression and predicted, with some dread, the mess that he had gotten himself into.

"We have to show you," said Harry almost breathlessly, quickly finishing off the remnants on his plate. "Quidditch is the best sport ever!"

"I seem to recall that it's the only wizarding sport as well..." Shikamaru said slowly and with a raised eyebrow. Hermione let out a small laugh in agreement.

"Yeah, but that's not the point." persisted Ron urgently, scraping the last of his roast beef onto his fork. "We have got to take him flying - let him feel the joy of being in the air!" he said to Harry, who nodded excitedly in response. Simultaneously, they both stood up and popped one treacle tart in their mouths. Then, they proceeded to pull Shikamaru upright, by his elbows, into a standing position.

"I don't know..." Shikamaru said uncertainly, staring down at his own golden plate that he had, in one way or another, managed to finish in time. He was planning on just winging it on Saturday morning during the tryouts. He didn't really want to spend extra time on this and had looked forward to clearing all of his transfiguration homework so that he could relax by the fire.

"It's the best feeling ever," said Harry enthusiastically as he thumped the chuunin on his back.

Hermione looked on amusedly at her best friends' reactions to Quidditch and started to gather up her book bag.

"Come on, I'll even let you ride my broom!" said Harry cheerily with a nudge in Shikamaru's side. The shinobi looked quizzically over at Hermione, who showed him a happy little wave at their retreating forms and he knew there would be no choice.

"What!" exclaimed Ron. "Then I get a ride too! You'll see, it'll be the smoothest ride you've ever ridden. It's the Firebolt, the best racing broom ever in market right now."

Putting on a smile, Shikamaru said in slight resignation, "Alright, I'll come." The two whooped in response and dropped his elbows, instead placing their hands on his back and driving him forwards towards the grand oaken doors.

"I'll go study in the library. See you guys tomorrow!" called Hermione from her table as she put the day's Evening Prophet in her bag, readily recognizing her friends' love for the sport. They probably won't be back at the Gryffindor Tower until curfew. Poor Shikamaru, he didn't know what he got himself into. It seemed that the guy wasn't really the sporty type.

Flying was definitely not what the shinobi expected it to be. He thought it'd be just like jumping roofs or trees, but it was actually quite different. The adrenaline rush that he used to get from soaring and falling in the air for the few brief seconds died down within weeks of constant use. Yet flying brought back those faraway memories of when he first learned tree jumping, and most significantly, the sensations. Swooping through the air with nothing but a stick to hold on to was unexpectedly exciting. The feeling of the wind billowing through your hair when you felt that drop in your stomach as you plummeted downwards, or the swelling tension in your chest as you streaked upward was magical to behold. Just cruising along the horizon was peaceful, though the occasional burst of air was fun to ride on. Following nature's spontaneous air currents later proved to provide an interesting ride and course, though he always made sure not to stray too far from the field.

He had learned to control the school's old Cleansweep Six with various dips and turns by stabilizing the wobbly chakra current coursing inside the broom. Its own built-in mechanisms regulating the flow were worn and faulty, nor did it help that there were numerous scratches that opened up the inner chakra channel, causing leaks. He found out that by controlling the nature chakra to circulate in smooth manner along the channels and by directing it out from the bristled end, he pretty much fixed the broom. He soon discovered that the amount of chakra he provided to the broom would also alter its agility and speed (He grudgingly realized, with acquiescence, that flying this broom would be an efficient chakra endurance exercise. He didn't like to admit that his chakra control was getting sloppy, being constantly pampered by the supplied natural chakra, nor that his muscles were getting weak and limp).

With some tinkering and experimenting, he quickly grasped the maneuvers that Harry showed him to his charge's both delight and amazement. When he tried the Firebolt, he didn't need to manipulate any chakra at all, nor give any since it had a powerful conductor for nature chakra. It didn't hurt either that its inner nature chakra systems were in perfect condition. He had to admit that although the rickety old broom never jumped into his hand to his lethargic "up" (he gave up quickly, but then Harry just shoved the broom underneath him and off he went), the "joy of being in the air" was definitely a treat. After a thought, he decided to buy a racing broom on the way home; it proved to be a very practical form of transportation. He would definitely get a laugh from people's expressions back home too. He didn't care much for the game, but after inspecting the positions, he decided that he would try out for Keeper the next day - you barely moved from one spot after all. When he mentioned it to the two who were gliding and laughing at his side, Ron turned a sickly shade of purple while Harry cracked a smile and wished him luck.

As he was reflecting back on the previous evening's shenanigans and crunching on his plain toast (being too lazy to take a knife and spread condiments on one surface), he heard the arrival of the trio thumping over to sit beside him.

" 'Morning," he said nonchalantly with slight signal of the hand.

"Good morning!" chimed Hermione happily as she settled down beside Ron across from him. "How was last night? I didn't get a chance to catch you before you headed off to bed." Afterwards, he had pretty much just collasped in bed, drained from all the chakra usage. They had flown for a good three to four hours.

"It was pleasant," he replied simply.

"Pleasant?" repeated Harry with a laugh, turning to face him with a mocking expression. "He loved it! Why else would he have flown all that time? And he's trying out for Keeper this morning."

"Really? Well then good luck to the both of you!" she expressed genuinely, gently patting Ron on the shoulder who looked absolutely sick to the bone. If it weren't for his growling stomach, he probably wouldn't have eaten from the sheer nerves of the prospect of trials. He did eat noticeably slower though.

"Oh, Hagrid!" Hermione called, out of the blue, but the giant rumbling footsteps he had been feeling for a while now only increased as it sped up right behind him towards the staff table.

"We've got to go and explain," said Hermione with upset eyes and her teeth biting her bottom lip. "We took his class, Care of Magical Creatures, every year since he got the post. but this year none of us could fit the subject in our timetables," she explained fervently to Shikamaru.

"We've got Quidditch tryouts this morning!" cried out Ron with renewed flame. "And explain what? How are we going to tell him we hated his stupid subject?"

"We didn't hate it!" protested Hermione earnestly, her eyes darting back to the giant of a man sitting on an enormous stool.

"Speak for yourself..." muttered Ron with an unpleasant grimace.

"Was it really that bad?" asked Shikamaru, vaguely intrigued.

"From useless flobberworms to exploding skrewts, take your pick," said Ron darkly as he continued to pick at his eggs.

"I hate not talking to Hagrid," said Hermione, looking upset.

"We'll go down after Quidditch," Harry assured her. "But trials might take all morning, the number of people who have applied. I dunno why the team's this popular all of a sudden."

"Oh, come on, Harry," said Hermione, suddenly impatient. "It's not Quidditch that's popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable."

Shikamaru snorted and smirked at Harry, who looked uncomfortably away after shooting him a angry stare. Ron choked on his sausage, but Hermione continued on.

"Everyone knows you've been telling the truth now, don't they? The whole Wizarding world has had to admit that you were right about Voldemort being back and that you really have fought him twice in the last two years and escaped both times. And now they're calling you 'the Chosen One' — well, come on, can't you see why people are fascinated by you?"

"Hate to be you right now..." said Shikamaru leisurely, poking at his fruit salad.

"Shut it," retorted Harry, his face flushing crimson. He stared down determinedly at his plate of half-finished bacon strips.

"Well, I'm just glad I wasn't born an Uchiha," said Shikamaru languidly.

"A what now?"

"Uchiha. They're a family of prodigies, and according to the girls, they're really good looking. Ever since I started at the Academy, there's always been a horde of fangirls around the Uchiha in my class. He also has a patented fan club. I expect every one of them has one though..." Shikamaru said idly.

"Fan club? I've been there..." Harry trailed off while suppressing a shudder, certainly thinking about the fiasco back in his second year as well as the Potter Stinks club in his fourth.

Suddenly, Shikamaru heard a collective sound of flapping feathers and he angled his head upwards just in time to see the incoming wave of daily post. Coming in from the cold sleet drumming outside, raindrops slipped off their beating wings and onto the students below, incurring cries of outrage and frustration. Three shadows flew their way from the mass of circling owls. He recognized them as Hedwig, Harry's loyal snowy owl, Pigwidgeon, Ron's white-faced scops owl, and a Barn owl that seemed to be carrying the newspaper. Each of them hopped over to the respective recipients, except for the scops owl who crashed spectacularly and then immediately got squished by its own package in front of Ron. Shikamaru felt a tinge of empathy at the poor owl, having had successfully made its way all the way to the isolated castle hauling a bulky parcel three times its size, only to get crushed at its delivery. Ron peeled his package off the weakened owl and decided to give the pitiful creature a piece of his kipper. It accepted it gratefully with a hearty gulp.

Harry gently introduced the shinobi to the owl, who clicked her beak and screeched at him, then promptly took flight, followed by the raggled scops owl. Astonished, Harry apologized for his owl's behaviour, completely dumbfounded as to why she would react that way. Shikamaru innerly congratulated the smart owl for her sharp instincts; right away, she had detected him as a threat for his perilous skills and his slumbering capabilities.

Harry opened his own parcel, identical to Ron's, to find a brand new copy of Advanced Potion-Making from Flourish and Blotts. Instead of giving back the Prince's personalized textbook, Harry cleverly exchanged the covers, disguising their contents well to Hermione's dissatisfaction and frustration. The Daily Prophet owl nudged her a bit, distracting her with the latest biased news and propaganda on the market. She opened it up nervously with haste to find no deaths, three more dementor attacks and the arrest of the Knight Bus conductor, Stanley Stunpike, eliciting resentment and irritation at the Ministry's incompetency.

Though Shikamaru had to give a hand to the enemy; it seemed like the "light" side was making zero headway in the war so far, pressured to make quick arrests to assure the public on edge just as Hermione had reasoned. He had picked up gossip simply from travelling down the corridors between classes. Several students in every year and every house have already been picked up by their parents, if not urged to be sent home. Ron believed that Hogwarts was the safest, which was true considering the shinobi's presence here in the castle as well as the skilled professors and his client. Swivelling his head with Harry's and Ron's to look at the staff table, he acknowledged the Headmaster's frequent absences this past week, understanding the need for the head to personally go out for private reconnaissance (perhaps having to do with the classified information), exercise his specialty (such as when the Fifth had to go on the field because of medical shortage) or deal with political frenzies.

"It's all looking serious, isn't it?" Hermione said in reticent realization.

"This is war isn't it?" intoned Shikamaru solemnly. "My country was involved in a large-scale war a little more than a dozen years ago and according to my dad and his stories, nothing compares to the horrors of war." The seasoned shinobi looked into the naive eyes of the teens who did not understand the emotional stain of bloody massacres or the break of sanity from killing someone with your own hands. They were lucky that magic could kill so easily. Only a green light would suffice to end one's life, and no blood would be shed. The excruciating pain would be spared. Mercy kills would bring much more peace to the mind if you knew your target, often kinsmen or fellow villagers, weren't suffering by your own hand.

"Politics, economy, population, you name it- everything goes down in war," he said in elaboration to the silent trio. "All those moral boosters you see in the paper-" he said, motioning to an ad for Rufus Scrimgeour, "is nothing but junk, though I'm sure you guys already know first hand how lousy your Ministry is." They looked at each other, surely thinking about all the injustices against fellow mages and against Harry in these past two years.

"Wars start foolishly. For this one, as a drive of ambition, but the losses always exceed the wins. My country's war really was just a result of little skirmishes that dragged on for too long. They pulled in everyone in an attempt to win territory. Nobody won, because in the end, it was only settled by various peace treaties, signed by tired countries that had already lost too much. In your case unfortunately, the opposing side does not care for its own losses since its leader is an insane psycho-maniac –" Harry snorted loudly at that, but both Ron and Hermione exchanged uneasy expressions. " -So really, your side has to win unless you care to lose everything and live under the sovereign regime of a snake bastard." Now Ron snorted too, but Hermione, recognizing the gravity of the subject matter, asked quietly.

"Have you ever experienced war?"

"Not quite," he answered ambiguously.

Their breakfast ended somberly, matching the morning rain which had thankfully lightened up to a drizzle. The sparse droplets tingled their skin and created a thin haze of mist over the Quidditch field. They arrived twenty minutes to starting time, forcing the dreadful thoughts of war to the back of their heads to be replaced with the tension and nerves of the Gryffindor Quidditch trials. Shikamaru wasn't worried though - blocking and avoiding flying balls really couldn't be all that hard. Ron however, was now the same colour as a light bruise. Hermione parted from them at the changing rooms, wishing them a soft "good luck" to go to the crowded stands.

They changed quickly amidst the twisting bodies - there were just too players trying out- grabbed their brooms (Shikamaru grabbed the same Cleansweep Six) and hurried out onto the playing field to line up next to the crowd of applicants. Finally, when the bell tolled nine times, Harry straightened himself up and walked impressively and courageously to stand in front of the group in his Quidditch robes, his Captain's badge pinned proudly on his chest.

"Welcome to the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts," he announced with a surprisingly good amount confidence. "We'll start with a quick flying test. Divide yourselves into groups of ten and and line yourselves up. When it comes to your turn, you will fly once around the pitch." They scrambled and squirmed but somehow managed to follow the simple instructions. Shikamaru found himself joined in the twelfth group.

Waiting in line with the rest, he watched with some amusement the gong show that was the easiest task. He could say that one sixth of the applicants were not even Gryffindors, a third had never flown before, and about half of them were just there because of Harry. Oh how he felt sorry for his charge. Speaking of which, he looked over at the appointed Captain who was looking more and more irritated by the second. People who couldn't even fly and who couldn't even stand still without giggling riddled the pitch.

Once his own group had flown (with himself as the only survivor), he saw Harry breathe a great sigh of relief, having cleaned out a good deal of the frivolous spectators. There was only about a fifth left of the original size. Having passed, he settled himself leisurely on the side bench beside Ron and in front of Hermione, effortlessly tuning out the hooting and hollering in the stands. He then proceeded to call the Chaser tryouts, largely successful since non-serious players who could actually fly fell easily out of the competition within the first round. They were asked to do a few passing drills and scoring drills while Harry mercilessly hit Bludger after Bludger at the potential Chasers.

After an hour of Quaffles raining down on the pitch from uncaught passes and unscored goals as well as the occasional player knocked out of the sky, three Chasers were selected: Katie Bell, a former teammate who was a strong and accurate shot, Demelza Robins who controlled her broom particularly well and Ginny Weasley, who scored the most goals and was especially agile in the air. Forehead shining with sweat but with a brimming smile on his face, Harry, evidently pleased with his findings, had called the results to numerous complaints and tantrums. One person had almost manhandled him had his experience and ingrained reflex not instinctively dealt a quick Impediment Hex to his attacker. At least his charge was capable of defending himself against students and little pests. Good thing to know that he himself didn't have to help Harry with crazed fans or the like. Gryffindors sure are a raucous bunch.

Next were the Beaters tryouts. A little less than twenty players scrambled into place on the field. They were called up in groups of four and asked to shoot the evasive Bludgers through one of the hoops at either end of the field. When the third group flew, regret soon outlined Harry's expression because it was evidently a fluke that they passed the flying test. There was a skinny little girl who looked to be only in her second year, a chubby boy who was probably in third year, a weed of a boy likely in second year and another boy in third year who had a brilliant head of platinum blond hair. Out of the four flyers, three of them were still wobbling unsteadily while carrying the heavy Beater's bat, looking to the entire world as if they were going to topple out of the sky any second. With their incredibly terrible balance, Shikamaru scoffed at one of them, who had directed their broom in some way to be in close proximity of a darting Bludger in a weak attempt to continue with trials. The chuunin noted with narrowed eyes that they were getting dangerously close to the spectators.

A few seconds later, Harry exhaled heavily and was just about to call them back down when a scream split the crowd noise. The girl had finally succumbed to the immense weight of the bat and had tumbled off one side of her Comet Two-Sixty. The broom left its owner's feeble control, only to crash into the forest trees and immediately split in two. Her skinny form, like a twig in the wind, plummeted down to the earth with only her shrill voice trailing behind her. Right away, Shikamaru and Harry grabbed their brooms and leapt into the air. Fuelling his Cleansweep with more chakra, Shikamaru easily matched Harry's breakneck speed and charged alongside the Captain to catch the falling second year. They both managed to intercept her in mid-drop, Harry catching her body (who fainted upon impact) while Shikamaru supported her head and neck. Within a split second, Shikamaru confirmed her safety within Harry's arms then dove downwards, egging on his broom, to snatch the metal bat out of its fall, preventing a fractured bone or two from the applicants, now only 3 metres below him. Swinging the bat easily over his shoulder, Shikamaru looked up at the Captain who gave him a grateful nod as he transported the girl back to the ground. Although bones may be fixed with a simple wave of the wand, the social aftermath was always an annoyance to deal with.

Abruptly remembering the menace that was the out-of-control Beater near the stands, the chuunin spun around swiftly despite the bat's weight. The boy had finally controlled his broom to an acceptable degree, but was currently waving wildly and blindly with his chunk of metal at the mocking Bludger, which, to him, seemed to taunt him with every miss. Speed increasing with every movement of his arms, Shikamaru, sensing trouble, zoomed off towards the provoked idiot. Angered by an inanimate object! Seriously?

Only halfway across the pitch, a thunk was heard as the boy chanced a hit on the jittery Bludger. And off it shot, right into the stands.

Without a moment's hesitation, Shikamaru changed his course, probably gunning his poor broomstick with more chakra than it could handle as he rocketed towards the Bludger's target. It started to wobble and shake. Scanning with his quick calculating eyes, he approximated its trajectory and predicted it to barely pass Ron, but hit Hermione. With his withering broom, he knew instantly that he would not make it in time.

"Ron!" he bellowed loudly at the wide-eyed potential Keeper who had also spotted the danger. He was staring straight at the speeding Bludger along with the stunned audience members all around him. Hearing his name, it seemed to snap him out of his locked state. Jumping to his feet, he whipped out his wand and hastily shouted the first spell that surfaced in his mind.

"Protego!" And just in time. A crystalline light blossomed from the end of his wand, rapidly spreading into a thin demi-sphere and effectively defending the area in front of Ron as well as anyone behind him. The Bludger slammed into it, but ricocheted off the protective shield and was sent zooming right into Shikamaru's course.

"You're mine," he murmured in a low voice with a smirk. Bringing the bat around in a comfortable stance, he paused just a fraction longer for their paths to cross. With a ferocious swing, he hit the Bludger with a resounding crack, sending it rocketing all the way to the other end of the pitch and cleanly through the centre hoop. Out of sight and out of mind, its only traces left was its high pitched sound, proof that it was still whistling away though the atmosphere.

Silence.

"It'll come back… right?" asked Shikamaru with concern as he smoothly landing his trembling broom. With a frown, he put the old Cleansweep Six on the ground to rest. Looking up in the distance, even he couldn't pinpoint its dot anymore; it had flown too far away.

But then his broom exploded. Literally. In a shower of wood chips and splinters with only a pile of bristles and wood bits of remaining. Evidently, he had expanded its chakra channels more than their original dimensions and gave it more chakra than it could handle. The poor broom.

A group of people in the audience had screamed at the explosion and people started talking. The shock from the earlier two incidents had already subsided and now the gossiping students were excitedly chattering away about the recent events.

"Uhhh, sorry 'bout that," he said awkwardly, motioning at the broken pile a metre beside his feet. "Do I need to pay for this…?"

"I found my first Beater," said Harry breathlessly, outright disregarding his previous question.

"What?" said Shikamaru, shocked. Sure he did well, but what if that was a fluke? Harry had no way of really knowing his skill with the bat. It was easy, but how would he have known? Putting it through the hoop was actually pure chance as well, but most importantly, he would definitely not like this troublesome position. "No, I'm trying for Keeper, remember?"

"Nope, too bad. You're going to be Beater. Captain's orders." What was the point in arguing really? He was on the team at least. Accepting it with a sigh and a nod to his grinning charge, Shikamaru gathered up his broken broom, laying it beside the broom shed, and then took his place beside the Chasers who thumped him on the back and congratulated him on a good performance.

The trials continued through the Beater's selection without incident, and Jimmy Peakes came to sit beside him. They greeted each other in silence.

"That's my final decision and if you don't get out of the way of the Keepers I'll hex you like I did to the last guy," yelled Harry to the second round of complainers, brandishing his wand and shouting himself hoarse.

Finally, it was the last of trials and the Chasers beside Shikamaru stood up to test the potential Keepers. Spotting Ron lining up, Shikamaru noticed that he was quite green in the face, his knuckles white and his palms sweaty. Hermione was a few ways behind the chuunin and they exchanged worried expressions. Cormac McLaggen, whom he remembered from the train ride, had lined up close where he was sitting and was now talking as loudly as he could to anyone who would listen.

"I played ever since my toes could skim the ground from the broom. I flew ever since I could walk. Really I could try out for any position, but Keeper just so happens to be my particular forte you know. Harry and I are just the greatest buds both in the Slug Club. Can't believe I even need to try out for the team! Against these people, like the Weasleys! Sure the sister is pretty, but look at what they're riding. Those are like regular house brooms compared to my Nimbus 2002! This baby is the latest model–"

Hearing enough, Shikamaru hoped, no, decided that he would not make the team. Someone like that meant a whole batch of social trouble, and he would put unnecessary mental strain on both himself and his charge. When it was his turn to try however, his skill and experience made themselves present, and his overall breadth helped a good deal too; he easily saved four goals. Conceiving a plan to prevent him from saving the last goal, the shinobi's thoughts were interrupted when he felt a tingle of magic from behind him. Quickly spinning himself around, in the nick of time he witnessed Hermione sneakily cast a spell non-verbally right at the Keeper. When it landed, McLaggen shot right in the opposite direction, as if Confunded. He turned back to Hermione and, catching her eye, smirked. She flushed ten shades redder but with a "you know..." expression, obviously referring to his boastful rant from before. He gave her a "I would've done the same thing" shrug and they both burst into laughter at the scowling teen, who was grinding his teeth into powder while stomping his way down the field.

Next was Ron. And despite his poor facial colour, he did spectacularly, completing all five saves. Harry had a well concealed grin on his face as he strode towards the Beaters with the returning Keeper and the Chasers for a pep talk of sorts. Unfortunately, he was blocked by McLaggen, who was clearly furious with a bulging vein at the temple and a face so red; it could match Hermione's from moments before. Harry hastily took a step back from the towering figure. Shikamaru took that as a subconscious signal, straightened up and stepped forward.

"His sister didn't really try," said McLaggen venomously. "She gave him an easy save."

"Rubbish," said Harry coolly. "That was the one he nearly missed."

"Give me another go," he said threateningly. Putting another foot forward, his height was a good head above Harry.

"No," said Harry, this time standing his ground. "You've had your go. You saved four. Ron saved five. Ron's Keeper, he won it fair and square. Get out of my way." And with that, Harry moved past him with a push of his hands, showing him his back and intent on ignoring anymore insults or complaints McLaggen might throw his way. He didn't expect that he'd throw a punch.

But Shikamaru did. The chuunin moved swiftly and silently as per shinobi style, and readily catching the furious punch with a single raised hand, his right still draped lazily in his pocket.

"Hey," he said placidly to the steaming-headed git, his expression cool and steady. The chuunin gripped the fist in his left tighter, knowingly causing him some pain and eliciting an unmanly squeak from the seventh year. "Calm yourself," he continued while sending a subtle but sharp glare his way. McLaggen nodded vigourously so the shinobi let go. Clutching his hand in his other, he stormed off nastily, muttering unheard curses over his shoulder.

With his presence gone, Harry spoke tiredly.

"Thanks. That's the third time you've saved my neck today."

He merely shrugged it off. "That's what friends do." They shared identical grins then Harry turned to face the entirety of his dirty and sweaty new team.

"Well done," he rasped, his voice gone after all that shouting. "You flew really well. We'll start our first full practice next Thursday evening. Meet here at the pitch changed and no later than seven o'clock after dinner." With those last words, he dismissed them with a satisfied sigh of relief.

"You did brilliantly, Ron! And Shikamaru!" said Hermione, meeting them outside the change rooms. "I really don't know what was wrong with me. I completely froze when I saw that Bludger coming! So thanks," she added sheepishly.

"You and everyone else in the stands," said Shikamaru reasonably in response.

"Except for you, Shikamaru," she countered earnestly.

"Though really it was because of Ron that you lot were saved from broken noses," he added, thumping Ron heartily on the shoulder.

"You called my name, so I just did the first time I could think of," mumbled Ron.

"But you did it nonetheless," concluded Shikamaru encouragingly.

"That sure was a mess," said Harry with a laugh, beaming like no tomorrow after he finally completed the first obstacle of his Captaincy.

"But we somehow pulled through okay, right?" said Shikamaru with a smile, only to see it being reflected back at him by the trio. They nodded cheerily back, and together they trudged up the slopes to see Hagrid.

For the next ten minutes, the three of them bemusedly endured Ron's enthusiastic play-by-play of his trial saves as they traveled across the water soaked earth.

"I was better than that McLaggen anyway," said Ron in a highly satisfied voice. "Did you see him lumbering off in the wrong direction on his fifth? Looked like he'd been Confunded. ..." Hermione and Shikamaru shared a secret smirk which Harry noticed in surprise. Luckily, Ron didn't see, too immersed in his elaborate recounting of what he considered to be beautiful penalty saves.

By the time they reached Hagrid's hut, the weather decided to stop its tantrum to reveal the rays of the sun, at last poking through the dense rain clouds. The drizzle lightened up and they strode damp and squishy dirt of the pumpkin patch to approach a magnificent creature that Shikamaru identified as the hippogriff, Buckbeak, which Harry and Hermione had rescued in their third year. A rough rope around its neck tied it to the nearby fence, looking as if it would collapse if the hippogriff even so much as tugged on its tether. Acutely sensing their presence, he slowly raised his proud head. Its amber eyes seemed to glower at them, accompanied by the clicking sound of his razor-sharp beak.

"Oh dear," said Hermione nervously, pausing in her steps. "He's still a bit scary, isn't he?"

"Come off it, you've ridden him, haven't you?" retorted Ron. "This is Buckbeak, a hippogriff we met back in our third year," he explained to Shikamaru, who was admiring the hippogriff's gradient plumage. "Yeah, he kicked Malfoy's butt and then almost got executed but then we rescued him and gave him to Harry's godfather, but now he's back here because... well yea. Long story."

"It's okay, I get it," Shikamaru said with a cautious look at his charge, wondering about his reaction to the mention of his godfather's recent passing. Stepping forward, Harry only calmly made eye contact with the fierce creature and then gave a low respectful bow to the majestic half-eagle, half-horse. It only took a few moments before its scaly knees also bent down to imitate Harry's bow.

"How are you? Missing him? But you're okay here with Hagrid, aren't you?" murmured Harry softly as he reached forward to pet Buckbeak.

"This is Hagrid's hut by the way," continued Ron after he too checked Harry's expression. "We visited him quite often the last few years ever since we came in first year, but we haven't even talked to him properly since before the first and probably only sixth year Care of Magical Creatures class... I'm betting no one in our year bothered to take that course," he finished matter-of-factly.

Shikamaru felt a familiar rumbling as Ron finished his last sentence and then the large figure of the former keeper of keys walked around the side of the puny cabin.

"Oi!" shouted Hagrid gruffly, putting down his sack of potatoes. "Git away from him! He'll have yer fingers — oh. It's yeh lot." A huge boar hound bolted out from behind him, gamboling towards the teens and barking loudly all the way. Jumping at their feet and licking wherever he could, his wide eyes were simply sparkling with innocent joy. Anyhow, his owner abruptly stormed into his hut and closed his door roughly with a muffled thunk.

Hermione became visibly upset, but Harry firmly banged on his door and even threatened to blow it away before their giant of a friend gave in and opened it up, revealing his intimidating stature despite the fact that he was sporting a flowery apron. From Harry's adept comment, Hagrid disgruntily let them in, raising an eyebrow at Shikamaru but not saying a word. They settled around the large table squished in the cramped cabin and were each served cups, well more like entire kettles, of tea as well as presented with a heaping plate of what looked like puck-shaped cakes. Shikamaru looked around while they chatted away; Hermione and Harry defending themselves while Hagrid grumpily peeled the potatoes as if every one of them had done him a great personal wrong. Despite having to fit furniture and possessions of a half-giant, he admired how the place felt cozy and not the least bit claustrophobic. Hanging from the ceiling were various furs and pheasants as well as a shimmering handful of unicorn hair. In the far corner beside the fireplace (fire in a wooden hut?), was an enormous bed covered in a colourfully patterned patchwork quilt.

Feeling his stomach growl a bit – it was already way past noon –the chuunin decided to help himself to the served food. Using both hands to pick up the colossal-sized mug, he took a mouthful of the tea. It tasted like metal leaf water. Hiding his distaste underneath a blank mask, he reached for one of the dirt brown cakes, seeing that Harry had taken one as well. Then, he took a small bite of it, or at least he tried to. Its perfectly smooth surface tasted of brown sugar and maybe a hint of dried fruit but it seemed that it was only possible to lick what seemed to be undissolveable rock candy. It was like trying to eat a rock spritzed with fruitcake water.

Suddenly, there was a gross squelching sound echoing from a hefty barrel in the other corner. Drawing everyone's attention, the four of them leaned over only to recoil in disgust at the barrelful of writhing maggots, completely drenched in viscous slime and crawling all over each other's shining bodies. Each looking to be at least a foot in length, the white worms squirmed and gurgled, instantly inspiring the students to move as far away as possible while still maintaining politeness and feigned interest. Both Shikamaru and Harry put down their rock cakes, neither any different from when they originally left the plate. The shinobi had encountered all sorts of bugs all the time thanks to life in the plentiful country of Fire as well as to his obsessive bug collector classmate. Although that meant he had developed a certain tolerance for bugs, it didn't mean he didn't still find some of them repulsive. And foot-long squelching maggots were definitely on the list.

According to Hagrid, they were just ordinary grubs that, when questioned by Ron, didn't grow into anything. They were just giant arachnid feed. Wait, what?

Then Hagrid promptly burst into tears – massive bulbs of salt water flowing out his beetle eyes and into his tangled beard. In gasping sobs, he managed to choke out the Aragog situation in the forest. Hermione benevolently offered their help, aptly overlooking Ron's silent protests and ugly grimaces. All the same, Hagrid refused, stating the dangers in the woods were too much to put them through, much to Ron's instantaneous relief. After that, the tension eased up considerably because it seemed that Hagrid assumed they were all cooperatively willing to help feed the giant spider some giant grubs and cheered up substantially.

"An' who's this?" he asked now in a more pleasant mood.

"Oh, this is Shikamaru, the new exchange student in our year," introduced Harry, motioning to the lazy teen settled nicely in his chair.

"Nice to meet you," said Shikamaru genially, straightening up.

"I'm sorry yeh had ter see that. It's kind o' a tough fer me now," said Hagrid, looking embarrassed.

"No no, it's understandable. I have several friends back home with both bug and animal friends alike, certainly with some giant ones like Aragog," said Shikamaru, thinking about the giant summons. "If they were ever close to losing one of them, I'm sure they'd be reacting the same way."

"Wha' sorts of animals did they have?" asked Hagrid, curiosity sparked.

"Frogs, slugs, snakes, turtles, dogs, and much more. There are so many that I can't name them all, but my village has a tendency to keep non-magical creatures," answered Shikamaru. Hagrid looked just a bit disappointed to the lack of dragons or other magical creatures.

"I'm sorry I've bin — yeh know," he apologized again to reassuring expressions of the trio. "I've jus' bin worried about Aragog ..." he said hesitantly, "an' I did wonder whether, if Professor Grubbly-Plank had bin teachin' yeh —" At which the three of them launched into clear lies of how Professor Grubbly-Plank was one of the most terrible teachers they've ever had while Shikamaru sat back relaxingly. A good hour later, Hagrid bid the hungry students goodbye from the shabby entrance of his hut, looking a good deal happier than before.

AN:Thanks for reading everyone! I was running out of steam by the end of this chapter, as you probably can tell. Did you get grossed out by the maggots? Sorry, I'm mean and I was trying to make them as gross as possible. Nice mental image?

Transfiguration has been added to this chapter, while Herbology and Charms will pop up later on in the story.

For everyone that's been asking for interactions between the trio and Shikamaru, is that good enough? Obviously there would be more, but I think by the end of this chapter, they can be relatively good friends. I had some trouble with the dialogue, and I'm not sure if you can still picture the scene and kind of hear the way they are talking by the way I wrote their conversations.

How's the Quidditch trials? I understand Shikamaru's laziness, but I figured that him being on the team would be easier for him to protect Harry. Originally, I thought the Seeker position would be ideal because he has a good eye, and he'd be motivated knowing that he is the person that'd end the game. But he can't because Harry is the star Seeker and Captain. Then I thought Keeper because he'd barely have to move, but then Ron wouldn't succeed and I honestly can't think of what to do with him. So I concluded that he'd have to be forced to play any other position, and voilà.

You might've been able to tell that I summarized and paraphrased a lot of Rowling's writing. This is because I felt there was a need to mention them but rephrasing the entire thing would've been too long. Another thing you might've noticed is that I'm making up words... According to spell check, undissolveable isn't a word.

My last question for you guys is whether I use a lot of cliché phrases. I often confuse cliché with common expressions and I don't notice them.

Geez, my AN's are getting really long.

Anyways, review with your opinions! I'd like to know how I'm doing at present. Answer my questions if you can (they help so much), or just a word or two would be fine. If anything confuses you at all, that means at least another 50 people are as well, so please let me know with a review! Until the next chapter (and first omake)!