The moonlight shimmered on the ocean's surface as Nox banked low, wings slicing through the cool air with quiet power. The island came into view like a memory—small, quiet, untouched by the world's noise. Harry let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. They had made it. One more step away from danger.
It had been a long day, and tomorrow promised to be even longer. The full moon loomed near the horizon, and Teddy, as always, would change. It was never painful, thank the stars, but still—he needed safety, quiet, space. This island had once been their refuge, and now, Harry thought as he looked down at the boys asleep in the saddle—this place could become their home base.
Nox's wings rustled as she slowed her descent, talons brushing the rocky sand and the jolt of the landing stirred one of the sleeping bundles at his side.
Shikamaru gave a little whine, eyes squinting open. "Mmm… 'm sleepin'," he mumbled, trying to bury his face against Harry's chest again.
Harry huffed a soft laugh. "You can sleep again, sweetheart. Just let me carry you, alright?"
The boy didn't argue, just nodded sleepily as Harry unbuckled him from the saddle and carefully lifted him into his arms. Teddy was still in his crib, snoring softly, tufts of turquoise hair flopping over his eyes. With a flick of his hand, Harry summoned the crib closer, the bronze glowing faintly in the dark.
He reached out with his magic, letting it flow over the island like a mist. Soft and searching. When nothing stirred—no humans, no hidden chakra signatures—he let himself exhale and stepped off Nox.
Nox grumbled as he sent a charm to unstrap her saddle. "Mother, they are safe now, yes?" she asked, lowering her snout to nudge Harry's shoulder.
He pressed a kiss to her scaled cheek. "Safe, thanks to you."
The dragon rumbled in approval, curling her tail protectively around the small tent as Harry walked towards it.
Inside, he laid Shikamaru gently onto the bed, brushing his hair back with a soft touch and giving a small hiss to his head. "Goodnight, little one," he whispered, before floating Teddy's crib beside him and adding a few silent monitoring charms.
What he didn't see was Shikamaru's eyes blinking open again, watching as Harry left the tent. The boy smiling faintly and snuggling deeper into the blankets.
Outside, Harry opened a small flickering portal beside the tent, calling gently, "Tilly?"
With a soft pop, the house-elf appeared, already dressed in her favourite apron embroidered with tiny dragons.
"Tilly is here, Master Harry!"
He gave her a tired smile. "Would you be the secret-keeper for this island? I want to cast the Fidelius tonight."
Tilly puffed with pride. "Tilly would be honoured."
Nodding, Harry walked to the centre of the island. Magic thrummed in his veins as he knelt, pressing both palms to the earth.
"This place… this is the one," he murmured.
His magic spilled outward, tracing the edges of the island, wrapping it in light.
The land welcomed it.
He could feel the chakra-rich soil of this world bolstering the charm, intertwining with his own energy. The effect was instant—threads of magic wrapping the island in an invisible veil as he finished casting the charm.
When it was done, he wobbled slightly, and Tilly caught him with a pop.
"Silly Master, working until he drops. Come now."
"Mmm," Harry mumbled. "Bring Teddy here. Don't want to wake Shika…"
She did, tucking the crib beside the bed in the second room she had already prepared. Harry fell asleep not long after, the scent of salt and fire and lavender on his pillow.
~
The scent of warm tea and toasted bread woke him.
And a small hand tugged at his arm.
"Hari?"
His eyes blinked open. Shikamaru stood beside the bed, holding a tray slightly too big for his arms and a shy smile tugged at his lips.
"Tilly helped me. We made breakfast for you."
Harry's heart did something soft and dangerous.
He sat up with a grin, brushing his hand through Shikamaru's dark hair. "You did? That's very kind of you."
"Can I sit with you?" the boy asked.
Harry patted the space beside him. "Absolutely. I can hardly eat this amazing meal by myself!" This got a big grin from the boy.
Shikamaru scrambled onto the bed, sitting cross-legged as Harry took the tray and set it between them. Scrambled eggs, warm toast, some jam and a glass of orange juice. Nothing elaborate, but it was the thought that mattered.
As they ate, Shikamaru babbled about the morning—how Teddy had started following him in his crib again, how Nox had snorted at a seagull and accidentally caught it on fire, and how Tilly had told him they were hidden.
"I think she whispered something to me in my sleep," Shikamaru said, frowning. "I remember it now… 'The Keep is hidden at Duck Island.' But… why would I dream that?"
Harry chuckled. "It's not a dream. That's the secret. Tilly had to whisper it to you, or else you would be very disorientated when you woke up."
Shikamaru blinked. "Your chakra's so weird."
Harry just winked. "That's the fun part."
"But… why Duck Island?"
"Because on the map, the island's shape looks like a duckling."
Shikamaru snorted, then started laughing. "That's so stupid."
"Isn't it?" Harry laughed with him.
~
Later in the day, as the sun reached its peak, Harry sat down with Shikamaru again.
"I need to do something important today," he explained. "You can stay with me while I do it or play a game with Tilly."
Shikamaru glanced toward the shogi board but then shook his head. "I wanna stay with you."
"Family work day, then!" Harry declared, ruffling his hair.
They walked through the woodlands. And Harry explained everything as they went—the gateway, the realm, the anchor.
"You remember how I said Nox and Tilly come from a realm only I can reach?"
Shikamaru nodded.
"Well, I want to stop needing to open it with a spell every time. If I plant the anchor here, I can travel to and from the Keep freely."
"You need a big tree though, like the one in your story. How will Nox fit through?" Shikamaru frowned, scanning the woods. "These are all small."
Harry beamed. "I came prepared."
He called for Tilly, and the house-elf popped in holding a tiny sapling.
"A cutting of the tree?" Shikamaru asked.
Harry nodded. "From the one I found the gateway in. Let's plant it together."
When they reached the clearing, Harry dug a hole with a twist of magic and together, they nestled the sapling into the soil.
Their hands moved together, packing the dirt gently.
Harry whispered to the tree as he poured his magic into the earth.
"Grow," he whispered. Grow strong. Grow strong so I can protect my family.
A rumble answered and the earth trembled.
Shikamaru gasped as the sapling moved, branches unfurling, bark thickening. It grew faster than any jutsu, rising and splitting down the centre—twin trunks parting with enough space for a dragon to fit through, to make space for something between them.
"You're a Senju," Shikamaru whispered, eyes wide.
Harry smiled softly. "Ah that's a familiar name, you'll have to tell me about them later."
With reverence, he stepped forward, placing his palm against the yew.
The anchor rune on his hand pulsed.
The gateway flared to life—swirling magic forming the arch. The stone gate solidified between the twin trunks. Ancient, ornate, and filled with light.
"Whoa," Shikamaru breathed.
Harry turned, ruffled his hair again, and grinned. "Wanna see where the other dragons live?"
Shikamaru lit up. "Yes!"
With a snap, the floating crib zipped toward them, Teddy wide-eyed and giggling.
And Harry pushed open the ancient doors.
Shikamaru stood frozen, mouth agape, as creatures roamed the fields, dragons soared over distant cliffs, and wildflowers glowed with soft light.
"That mountain?" Harry pointed. "That's where Nox and the other dragons live."
"And that?" Shikamaru whispered, pointing at a phoenix dancing in the sky.
Harry smiled as Hedwig swooped down, Fawkes trailing her. Hedwig landed on his shoulder and crooned lovingly.
"This is Hedwig. She's my first familiar. She's smarter than most people I know. And this is Fawkes, hes a phoenix."
Fawkes trilled, while Hedwig tilted her head and pecked affectionately at Shikamaru's temple.
The boy giggled, eyes glowing with wonder.
Harry gestured at the Keep in the distance, the towers rising like a storybook castle.
"My family made this place. The Peverells."
"Can we go inside?"
"Absolutely," Harry said, lifting Teddy from the crib and setting him on his hip.
Shikamaru, quiet for a long time, finally whispered, "are all your clan members this cool?"
Harry laughed. "Wait until you meet Ignotus. He's a lot older than your grandma."
And together, they stepped into the legacy Harry had always searched for—and was now ready to share.
~
The castle was vast, its ancient walls, pulsing with centuries of magic, welcomed Harry and the children like an old friend waiting with open arms.
He walked slowly down the grand corridor, Teddy on his hip, softly gurgling with delight. Shikamaru padded alongside him, his hand in Harry's.
"This place is huge," Shikamaru breathed, wide eyes taking in every carved column and stained-glass window.
Harry smiled. "It was built by my ancestors—piece by piece. They made it a sanctuary for their magic, one that exists outside the normal world."
Shikamaru's brow scrunched. "So… this is like… a secret realm?"
"Exactly," Harry said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
They reached a grand staircase. "Come on," Harry said. "Let's start the tour properly."
Room by room, Harry introduced Shikamaru to the Keep. The kitchens—where house-elves cheerfully waved and offered buttered bread rolls—made Shika's eyes go wide. The greenhouse conservatory shimmered with magical plants. The dining hall, its ceiling a mirror of the night sky, earned a quiet "woah" from the boy.
They passed several guest rooms before reaching a large black door with swirling runes etched into it. Harry stopped, hand reaching out as if to open it, but he stopped.
Shikamaru glanced up at him, then at the door. "What's this one?"
Harry's mouth thinned. "It… belongs to someone I care about very much. My godfather."
Shikamaru tilted his head curiously.
"He's… asleep right now," Harry said carefully. "I used a very strong spell to keep him safe. He was badly hurt back in our world. I couldn't save him, not fully, but I didn't let him die either."
Shikamaru stared at the door, solemn. "Will he wake up?"
Harry hesitated. "I hope so. One day."
They didn't linger.
He showed Shikamaru his own bedroom next, the one connected to Teddy's nursery. Shikamaru looked around quietly, noting the rocking chair by the window, the walls filled with hand-drawn pictures—some of which moved and danced—and the soft blanket folded on the bed that clearly smelled like baby powder and lavender.
"And this," Harry said, moving toward the door next to his, "is yours."
He pushed it open.
Shikamaru gasped.
The room was alive with warmth and colour. Deep forest greens and honeyed wood tones made it feel like a den—cosy and personal. There were shelves along one wall filled with scrolls and books, all at child-friendly height. A low table in the centre was already set up with a miniature shogi board. There were cushions on the floor, a thick rug in the middle, and—on a small stand by the bed—a bowl with shimmering water and one energetic goldfish.
"Uo!" Shikamaru cried, running over. "You're here!"
The goldfish wriggled with excitement, swimming loops in the bowl as if greeting him. Harry smiled from the doorway, taking in the boys excitment.
"I asked Tilly to put him in here when your room was finished," Harry said. "I knew you'd want him. He's your fish, after all."
Shikamaru didn't answer. Instead, he turned and ran at Harry, wrapping small arms tightly around his waist.
"Thank you," he whispered into Harry's shirt.
Harry's throat closed up a little, but he cleared it. "You're very welcome."
They continued the tour, Shikamaru now walking closer to Harry's side than before. It was on the next hallway over, past a series of magically warded doors, that Shikamaru pointed.
"Whose room is that?"
Harry froze.
The door was bright—painted sky blue and covered in drawings, glittery stickers, and glowing letters that spelled out in curling, looping English: Luna.
He hadn't let himself think too closely on the events that brought them here.
"She's… she's my sister," he said quietly.
Shikamaru looked surprised. "You have a sister? You never mentioned her."
"I know," Harry admitted, reaching out and brushing his fingers over the glittery lettering. "Her name's Luna. I… came here to save her."
Shikamaru tilted his head. "From what?"
Harry sighed. "The energy we use, it's similar to chakra. But back home, my sister… she drew her power from the ley lines. From the earth itself. But it was too much for her body. It was killing her. So, I found a ritual. A jutsu that could transport us to a place where the energy is different. Where she could live."
"But she's not here," Shikamaru whispered.
Harry nodded. "One of my enemies interfered with the ritual. He broke the circle. I thought Luna grabbed my hand in time… but it wasn't her. It was him. I was too rooted in the magic to stop it. Luna saw something—a vision, maybe. She didn't take my hand. She chose to stay."
Shikamaru looked troubled. "Can't we go back for her?"
"No," Harry said, his voice tight. "Truth is…I didn't come from across the sea. I came from another earth entirely."
Shikamaru stared at him.
"Wait. You're—" his eyes widened. "You're an alien?! Or—or—are you actually a celestial god? Because I know you keep denying it, but—"
Harry burst out laughing, the tension in his chest breaking like a dam. "No! I'm not a god."
Shikamaru was giggling now too. "Then maybe just a little alien-y."
Harry grinned, reaching down and ruffling his hair. "Thank you. For letting me talk about her."
"I like hearing about her," Shikamaru said quietly.
Harry smiled and led him onward.
They entered the Keep's library wing and Shikamaru stopped dead in his tracks.
"This is… all books?!"
Harry nodded. "There's a book for almost every subject. This one is for non-magical studies—topics like medicine, architecture, languages. You're welcome here anytime."
Shikamaru turned in a slow circle. "My cousins would be so jealous."
"There are also magical libraries—the Potter and Black libraries—but they're blood-protected," Harry added. "Some of the books might hurt you if you don't share the bloodline. They like biting people."
Shikamaru blinked. "Bite?"
"Hard," Harry said with a wink.
Finally, they stopped before a large set of double doors, carved with the Peverell crest.
The Peverell Library.
Ancient tomes floated lazily through the air. Celestial charts hovered by enchanted scrolls. Soft candlelight glowed from runes carved into floating braziers. The scent of old parchment, ink, and something faintly herbal filled the air.
Shikamaru tiptoed in, eyes wide.
"Woah."
Harry let him wander for a few moments before calling him over to a large, ornate frame.
"Ignotus!" Harry greeted.
"Ah, at last!" the portrait exclaimed. "It took you long enough. We've been waiting a month!"
Harry chuckled. "Had to anchor the Keep. Also, I think you forgot to tell me they don't speak English in this world."
Ignotus looked sheepish. "Ah. A minor oversight."
Behind Harry, Shikamaru peeked out, wide-eyed.
"Well now," Ignotus said, switching to Japanese. "And who is this little hatchling?"
Harry smiled. "This is Shikamaru. He's family now."
Shikamaru stepped closer, eyes fixated on the talking portrait. "You're alive?"
"In a manner of speaking," Ignotus said. "You remind me of someone I met once… are you a Nara?"
Shikamaru froze.
Harry placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. You're safe here."
Shikamaru gave a shaky nod. "Yeah. I'm… I was."
Ignotus looked thoughtful. "I knew the Nara. Long ago, during the Warring States. They provided medicine to the Senju. I was fascinated by their control over shadows."
Shikamaru blinked. "Wait. The Warring States was only sixty years ago. Hari said you died hundreds of years ago!"
Harry and Ignotus both stared at him.
"Are you sure?" Harry asked.
Shikamaru nodded. "My grandma used to talk about it all the time. It ended before the First Shinobi War."
Harry groaned. "I got it wrong. The brothers didn't flee this world a thousand years ago. Time displacement. I should have thought…"
Ignotus rubbed his chin. "It's possible people might remember the Peverell name if that's the case."
Harry frowned. "I've seen no signs of that yet. But… Cadmus' daughter. She married into the Senju, didn't she? Or her mother was a Senju?"
"Yes," Ignotus said. "Stolen away and adopted by someone from the clan."
Shikamaru lit up. "Then that means you're a Senju! Like the First Hokage! He could grow forests too!"
Harry blinked, then laughed. "Well. That explains a lot. Although, its more that they're Peverells. The gift of earth and plant manipulation came from them after all."
He ruffled Shikamaru's hair. "You're a genius, you know that?"
Shikamaru beamed.
"Well," Harry said, scooping Teddy into his arms. "I think dinner's ready. Let's go find out what the elves cooked up just for you."
"Bye, Ignotus!" Shikamaru called, waving.
The portrait waved back, smiling. "Take care of them, Harrison."
"Of course," Harry said softly.
And with that, they stepped back into the corridor, warmth blooming in Harry's chest as he led his little family toward their evening feast.
~
The moon was nearly full when Harry led Shikamaru and Teddy into the woods just beyond the treeline.
He had spent hours earlier that day preparing their nest — conjuring soft pillows, thick enchanted blankets, and lining the clearing with warming runes and silencing charms. Tilly had even packed a woven basket full of snacks and steaming thermoses of tea and hot chocolate.
Teddy, already wriggling in anticipation, clutched at Harry's robes as he was carried in one arm, his soft tufts of hair beginning to shimmer with that faint silvery hue it took on.
"Excited?" Harry asked, brushing his nose against Teddy's cheek.
Teddy squealed.
"Where are we going?" Shikamaru asked, eyes wide with curiosity.
Harry smiled and pointed ahead to the clearing now visible through the moonlight. "There."
As they stepped into the soft circle of forest glade, illuminated by moonlight and gently enchanted torches, Shikamaru gasped.
"Is this… for us?"
"Just for us," Harry confirmed. He knelt down and removed his cloak, draping it over Shikamaru's shoulders. It fell past the boy's knees, the collar engulfing his chin.
"It's so big!" Shikamaru laughed, peeking over the edge.
Harry chuckled. "It's enchanted to keep you warm. And safe. If you need anything, you can call Tilly, alright? Or just ask me and I can change back."
Shikamaru nodded solemnly, then turned to Teddy. "Is he going to turn now?"
Harry looked up. The moon had crested the sky, glowing full and white.
"Yes," he murmured. "It's time."
Teddy made a hiccupping noise — then his limbs stretched, his spine shifting, fur rippling over his body in a silver cascade. In a matter of seconds, the toddler was gone, replaced by a tiny, fluffy wolf cub, paws too big for his legs and bright turquoise eyes blinking up at them.
"Whoa!" Shikamaru breathed.
The cub yipped — then took off in a zigzag, nearly tripping over his own feet as he ran circles around the clearing.
"He's getting faster," Harry noted with pride.
"He's a puppy!" Shikamaru giggled.
"Yours truly, next." Harry stepped back, giving Shikamaru a reassuring glance. "I won't be able to talk in this form, but I'll be here the whole time."
Shikamaru nodded, watching eagerly.
With a smooth shift of magic, Harry's body warped — growing, thickening, fur black as night spilling out over his limbs. He dropped onto four paws as a massive wolf with emerald green eyes, his presence immediately calming and powerful.
Shikamaru's mouth dropped open.
Harry padded over, towering compared to Teddy's cub form but utterly gentle. He lowered his head and gave Shikamaru's shoulder a little bump with his snout.
The boy hesitated, then reached out a hand, fingers brushing the soft fur.
"You're so fluffy," he whispered, then burst into giggles as Harry licked the side of his face with a huge, wet tongue.
"Ewwww!"
Teddy yipped in response, bouncing over and nipping playfully at Harry's tail.
Harry let out a rumble of amusement and dropped into a crouch. Teddy immediately jumping on his head.
What followed was a mess of laughter, rolling limbs, wolfish grunts, and Shikamaru squealing every time Harry picked him up by the cloak and spun him into a pile of pillows.
For hours they played — hide and seek behind trees, tag through the glade, and even wrestling matches with the wolf-sized Harry acting as a gentle jungle gym.
Eventually, Teddy began to tire.
Harry, sensing the cub's slowing movements, gently scooped him up in his massive jaws by the scruff, and began nudging Shikamaru with his snout toward the nest.
Shikamaru, yawning now, stumbled forward, dragging the oversized cloak behind him.
The nest was warm, soft, layered in spells of comfort and safety.
Harry let Shikamaru curl against his side, and placed Teddy between his paws, covering them both with his massive body like a warm, living wall of protection.
The forest echoed softly with distant owls, the whisper of the wind, and the quiet thrum of Harry's chest as he began to hum — a deep, resonant rumble that vibrated through them both.
Shikamaru's hand reached out, patting Harry's fur once. Twice.
Then stilled as he fell fast asleep.
And Harry? Harry stayed exactly where he was. For once, there was no threat. No fear. No court or politics or war. Just his cubs, the moon, and the sound of the forest.
He could get used to this.
~
He woke to the feeling of tiny fingers tugging on his fur.
A now-human Teddy sat beside him, growling softly, mimicking a wolf and pawing at Harry's snout.
Shikamaru was still curled into his side, arms wrapped around Harry's middle, face buried in his fur.
Harry huffed, still very much a wolf, making Teddy shrieked in delight.
He turned his head and, with precise intent, licked Shikamaru right across the face.
"AAARGH!" came the screech, loud enough to scare birds from nearby trees.
Harry's wolfish bark of laughter echoed through the glade.
Later that day, Harry took both boys to meet the dragons.
The skies shadowed as the dragons descended — first Altair, elegant and glowing white, then Lyra, whose rose-gold scales shimmered under the sun. Her three hatchlings swooped after her, tumbling in the air like overexcited puppies, despite them being fully grown now.
And Rigel — sleek black with piercing green eyes — hovered protectively around Teddy.
Shikamaru stared. "Dragons… more dragons…" he whispered.
"They're my family," Harry said proudly. "And now they're yours, too. If you'd like that is…"
Shikamaru clutched his sleeve as Altair landed, nudging Harry affectionately.
"Mother," he rumbled. "This one is yours too?"
Harry laughed. "Yes. This is Shikamaru."
Altair sniffed him curiously. "Tiny."
Lyra coiled nearby, the other three peeking out from behind her, even with some of them having larger bodies.
"We like him," she murmured.
Harry translated quickly for Shikamaru, who waved at the hatchlings, eyes wide.
"I-if the nations saw all this," Shikamaru whispered. "You'd really be a Kami…"
Harry snorted. "That again?"
Rigel was now curled around Teddy like a protective guard dog, nuzzling him and trilling.
"Why does he do that?" Shikamaru asked.
"Rigel chose Teddy," Harry said softly. "He wants him as his rider."
"Oh…" Shikamaru looked down. "Do you think… maybe one day I could be one too?"
Harry's heart twisted.
He was about to say it — to offer the blood adoption, the family he could have — but Lyra's hatchlings decided then was a great time to start a fight, taking their attention away.
"Maybe one day," Harry murmured instead.
~
Fu mirror-called two days later, cheeks pink with guilt.
"I didn't tell anyone about the mirror," she admitted. "They'd take it away. Ninja are really paranoid."
Harry understood, even though it would be nice to have more adult conversation. He did mainly give her the mirror so Shikamaru could keep in touch with his friend.
And seeing Shikamaru light up at her voice was more than enough.
~
Shikamaru had been busy— learning from Ignotus, Salazar, even the elves. He begged Harry for the translation earring again so he could speak with everyone.
Teddy trailed after him constantly, shouting "Shika! Shika!" with glee.
He really was becoming the best big brother.
And Harry — he had never felt more like a parent.
Evenings were spent reading together, writing new alphabets, practicing Japanese and English in tandem. Shikamaru had taken to it frighteningly fast.
"You're cheating," Harry grumbled once.
"You're just slow," Shikamaru teased.
Harry mock-gasped. "How dare you! I'll have you know that I was a Ravenclaw—!"
They'd laugh then, Teddy joining in with his squeals.
Harry also researched daily for a way to wake Sirius. A way to bring Luna here. He wouldn't give up. Not on them.
But for now, he had his family.
A safe place.
Peace.
Until the end of the week.
When everything nearly fell apart.
~ Shikamaru's POV ~
The week they had spent at the Keep had been nothing short of magical.
Shikamaru had never known peace like this—real, tangible peace. It wasn't just the stunning surroundings or the quiet, ancient magic that hummed through the very walls of the castle. It wasn't even the dragons, though they were definitely amazing. No, it was the feeling that settled deep in his chest every time he heard Hari's voice, every time Teddy giggled, every time he stepped into a room and wasn't met with indifference or disappointment, but warmth.
He'd never felt safer than with Hari.
His Maashah.
Though he hadn't called him that yet—not out loud. Not like Teddy did. The word curled on the edge of his tongue whenever Hari looked at him with those gentle, warm green eyes, or laughed when Teddy clung to his leg. The word ached in his chest every time Hari reached out to ruffle his hair or tuck him into bed.
But Shikamaru couldn't say it. Not yet. Not when the ghost of his birth father still haunted the corners of his thoughts. Not when he still wondered if maybe—just maybe—he hadn't been enough for them.
So, he tried to push the ache down and focused instead on the wonder.
Even the ache that throbbed deep in his chest whenever he thought about home—his real home, Konoha—was beginning to dull. He still missed his father. Gods, he missed his father like a constant pull beneath his ribs. But that pain had begun to mix with something else now, something hopeful. He didn't just want to go home anymore. A growing part of him wanted this to be his home.
He wanted Hari to be his family.
The thought made him curl in on himself sometimes. How could he even dare to ask? His real parents didn't want him. His mother had sold him, and his father hadn't even come looking for him… hadn't he?
He didn't know. He didn't want to know—not now, not when it would ruin what little happiness he'd finally found.
So instead, he clung to it. To mornings learning to write and speak English with Hari, to afternoons helping feed magical beasts across the land, to evenings curled up with a book while Hari read out loud in that loving, warm voice. He clung to the way Teddy called him "Shika" like it was the most natural thing in the world, the way Hari made sure he was always included, always safe.
And he clung to every whispered bedtime story the castle seemed to hold in its walls. From the portraits, from the elves, from the dusty journals in the library.
~
It was late—one of those cosy, soft-lit evenings where the castle was quiet, the portraits mostly asleep, and even Teddy had long since nodded off in his nursery. Shikamaru had just finished speaking to Ignotus, the kind old man in the portrait who always had new stories about ancient magic or about the warring states era. He'd told Shikamaru about how he worked with the clans during wartime, and it had left Shikamaru in a daze hearing about all the amazing feats he and his brothers achieved.
Ignotus liked to talk about chakra though, and was very interested in his kekkei genkai.
Ignotus said that shadow magic was in Shikamaru's blood. He was fascinated by it, had even catalogued scrolls on it here in the library. Scrolls Shikamaru could read now—if slowly—thanks to Ignotus helping him.
"Check the cabinet near the far-right arch," Ignotus had instructed kindly. "Third shelf from the top. A dusty old scroll wrapped in silver ribbon. That's the one."
Shikamaru followed the directions, climbing onto one of the little stools that let him reach higher. He was careful, using both hands. But the cabinet door was a bit stuck, and when he finally pulled it open, something wobbled. A tray of small, glass vials perched precariously near the edge slipped.
"No, no, no—" he tried to catch them, hands flailing as he twisted and fell backward. The stool toppled and he crashed into a small pedestal with a shallow basin at its top. The vials scattered, and to his horror, some fell directly into the basin, their contents spilling into the water with a soft hiss.
"Shikamaru, don't touch it!" Ignotus shouted from his frame.
But it was too late.
One of his fingers dipped into the liquid just as he tried to fish a vial out, and—
Everything twisted.
~
He was falling.
Wind and darkness and a strange, tingling sensation like his skin was being stretched and pulled in all directions. Then suddenly—
He landed.
Hard.
His knees hit carpet but he didn't feel any pain. The world was dim, dusty, unfamiliar. Everything looked wrong. He was in some sort of hallway—thick walls, off-colour wallpaper, weird lights. He barely had time to look around before shouting echoed down the stairs.
A large man thundered down the steps, red in the face, his voice booming.
"BOY!"
Shikamaru startled, ducking behind the nearest sofa instinctively. His basic shinobi training, buried deep, kept him still.
The man reached a tiny door under the staircase and ripped it open.
From it, a boy tumbled out. Thin. Dirty. Maybe about his age. He blinked blearily, only to be grabbed by the collar and shaken violently.
"THIS IS YOUR FAULT! Everything! You're a freak! We should never have let you in this house!"
The boy screamed, tried to shrink in on himself, and Shikamaru surged forward. "Stop! Leave him alone!"
But he passed through the man. Like mist.
"No—what—?" he stumbled.
He tried again. And again he phased through.
The large man shouted more, then started kicking. The boy curled up, small sobs escaping his lips. Bruises bloomed on his arms, his face. Blood trickled from his nose.
Shikamaru could only stare in horror.
When the man stormed into the kitchen muttering curses, Shikamaru rushed to the boy, his hands trembling.
"It's okay—it's okay—you're okay—please be okay—"
The boy stirred.
Green eyes blinked up at him.
Bright, unnatural green. So very familiar.
"Ha… Hari?" he whispered, stunned.
The boy couldn't hear him. Just curled into himself, whimpering.
Then everything blurred—and he was falling again.
A cave? No, a sewer. Shikamaru looked around in alarm.
He heard hissing, and felt something primal shudder in his spine.
A massive snake—bigger than anything he had ever seen—reared its head. And in front of it, a young boy—Hari again, but maybe a bit older now—stood with a sword.
Tilly told him a story like this… didn't she say Hari killed the snake?
The snake lunged and Hari thrust the sword upwards.
Blood. Screaming. Poison.
"NOOOO!" a teenager screamed from the sidelines, red eyes blazing, magic boiling in the air. "YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN MINE, HARRY!"
Shikamaru shouted, "RUN!" But no one heard him.
The snake collapsed. But Harry fell too, a massive fang in his arm. His face twisted in pain. And the older boy turned tender then, speaking about what could have been.
"Please Hari! Get up!" Shikamaru begged.
But Hari didn't move—until he ripped the fang out and drove it into a book. The older boy—ghostlike, pale—screamed as his body disintegrated, begging Hari not to.
Then everything blurred again.
~
Scene after scene flashed before him.
Black-robed creatures sucking light out of people with their mouths. A coldness that clung to Shikamaru's skin even though he wasn't really there.
Then—silver.
A stag, made of light. Beautiful and bright. Hari stood tall, shielding people behind him, wand outstretched.
The stag charged, scattering the monsters.
Shikamaru clutched his chest. "That's… his chakra?"
More images. Trials. Courtrooms. Political drama. A boy no older than fourteen holding his ground against grown adults. A white-bearded man glaring at him. Marriage contracts. Slavery. Betrayal.
Shikamaru raged silently.
"Stop doing this to him! Stop hurting him!"
Then the battles.
Flames and lightning and dragons. Harry rising like a storm, screaming in fury, raining down destruction on cloaked enemies.
And then—
The final one.
It was… quiet.
Stone rubble. A broken courtyard.
Shikamaru recognised Hari instantly. Older now. Strong. Worn down.
And he looked like he was walking to his death.
The enemy stood across from him, red eyes gleaming. Surrounded by terrified children.
One of them called for Hari with desperate eyes.
And Hari… he walked forward.
"Harry Potter…"
The enemy's voice was cruel.
"The Boy Who Lived—come to die at last. How predictable. How… fitting."
Shikamaru screamed at him to run. To fight.
Harry dropped his wand.
The chains on the children glowed. Bellatrix sneered, pressing her wand to Evan's neck.
"I, Harrison James Potter-Black…Lord to the Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter, Black, Peverell, and Slytherin, do hereby swear to stand before the self-proclaimed Dark Lord Voldemort and willingly accept my death," Harry's voice was calm, steady.
He swore his life away.
Shikamaru collapsed to his knees.
"No, no, don't do this—please—"
Harry turned the ring on his hand and ghosts appeared.
A woman with red hair. A man with glasses. They whispered to him.
"Dying… it's just like falling asleep."
"Stay with me?"
"Always. Until the end."
Shikamaru shook his head. No. Don't believe them. Don't—
"I do this willingly, Tom."
"Avada Kedavra!"
Green light.
Harry fell.
Shikamaru screamed.
"No—NO—HARI!"
He dropped beside the body, sobbing.
"It's not real—it's just a memory—it's just a memory—he's not really dead—it's not real—"
But Hari wasn't moving.
The green-eyed boy lay still, lifeless.
And Shikamaru was left kneeling beside him, tears streaming down his face, whispering the same thing over and over again, his voice cracking.
"It's just a memory. It has to be. It has to be."
But how could it be?
How could this be a memory—if Hari was dead?
~
He blinked suddenly and the scene changed again.
The gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore filled his ears—steady, rhythmic, comforting.
This place… he knew it.
He'd seen it in drawings. In little pencil sketches Hari had made when explaining where Nox and the dragons used to live. When describing the safe place across the sea, the one he'd spoken of so fondly in quiet moments.
The cove.
Shikamaru's eyes lifted from the sand—and he saw him.
Hari.
Standing in the middle of the beach, dressed in loose white cotton trousers, barefoot and sun-kissed. His skin was healthy, glowing with life and heat, his messy hair rustling in the breeze. He looked confused, turning toward the empty sky and calling the names of his dragons.
Shikamaru's breath caught in his throat. He took a step forward, ready to call out—but stopped short.
His hand passed through the air as if the world around him were made of mist. There was no weight, no resistance. He couldn't touch the ground. Couldn't feel the wind. Couldn't speak.
He was a ghost in this memory. An echo in someone else's past.
Still, relief flooded him. Because Hari was alive. Even if this was a memory—he was alive.
Then, someone else appeared.
A boy—not a man, not a monster—but a boy who radiated something dark and deep and broken.
He had seen him before. In earlier memories. The older teen in the Chamber. The one who had screamed when Hari destroyed the book. The boy who had whispered, you should have been mine.
And now he stood barefoot on the sand, his expression almost… tender.
Shikamaru's muscles tensed. Every instinct screamed that this was wrong, that he tried to hurt Hari.
But he didn't raise a wand. Didn't sneer.
He only smiled.
"You always were stubborn, Harry," the boy said softly, his voice smooth and oddly affectionate.
Shikamaru wanted to shout, to tell Hari to run, to move, to not trust him. But he couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Could only watch.
Hari turned slowly, his expression shifting from confusion to stunned disbelief.
"No. You're not real," he whispered.
He tilted his head, stepping forward with deliberate softness, like one might approach a skittish deer. "Aren't I?"
He was too close now. Too intimate. Shikamaru wanted to rip him away from his Maashah.
Then he raised a hand. The backs of his knuckles brushed along Hari's jaw in a feather-light touch that made Shikamaru's stomach churn. The way Hari shivered—not in fear, but in something deeper—made the boy's young heart twist.
And then he kissed him.
Shikamaru's eyes widened, and his mind scrambled for understanding.
What?!
He could barely process what he was seeing. The boy who had tried to kill Hari—who had nearly let a giant snake eat him—was now touching him with reverence. Kissing him like the world would end without it. And worse—Hari was kissing him back.It wasn't romantic, not that Shikamaru understood this kind of love. It was desperate. Heavy. A goodbye etched in every touch.
He didn't understand it. He was only six after all.
But… he knew then that this boy loved Hari.
And Hari—Hari wasn't angry. He looked sad.
As the boy pulled away, light began to glow at the edges of his fingers. Golden. Warm. Eternal.
"It's time," He said softly.
"No—" Hari began, but he just smiled. One last touch of his fingers to Hari's cheek.
"Until we meet again, my darling."
Then he dissolved into golden dust, scattering on the wind like ash from a dying fire.
Shikamaru stood frozen.
And then—another figure stepped onto the shore.
"Ignotus…" Shikamaru breathed, awe tightening in his throat.
He knew that face. Had seen it every day in the Keep's library. This man—this ancient soul—was one of Hari's ancestors.
He watched in silence as Hari crumbled forward, burying himself in the elder man's robes like a lost child.
And Shikamaru's heart cracked.
Because for all the strength Hari carried, right now he looked so young.
So tired.
He listened to their conversation unfold, even if he only caught snatches at first. Hari asking if the children were safe. Asking if Luna would make it. If his death had been worth it.
And Ignotus—ever steady, ever kind—told him yes.
That his sacrifice had been enough.
That his love had become protection so powerful, even death had to yield before it.
"You've done enough."
Those three words echoed in Shikamaru's chest like a bell.
This was his Maashah. The man who had bathed him and braided his hair. Who had cooked him meals and laughed at his jokes. Who had slept beside him and protected him and held him when he cried.
And he had died.
For people who had needed him.
For people who had loved him.
And still—somehow—he had found the strength to love again.
To love him.
Shikamaru clutched at his chest as the weight of it all threatened to crush him. His knees gave out. He sank into the warm sand of the memory, trembling.
He understood now.
Why Hari watched them sleep with eyes too alert.
Why his hands sometimes shook when he thought no one was watching.
Why he protected them so fiercely, so desperately.
Hari had already died once for people he loved.
And he was doing it again—every day—with every breath, every step, every smile.
And he loved him.
Even after everything. Even though Shikamaru hadn't been brave enough to ask for it—Hari had given it.
Love. Home. Family.
Everything.
Tears blurred his vision.
Then—
A hand landed on his shoulder.
Warm. Real.
Shikamaru's head jerked up.
And there he was.
Not the younger version. Not the memory.
But his Hari. Clad in soft robes, face lined with quiet worry, green eyes shining like emerald fire.
"Maashah…" Shikamaru whispered.
Then he launched forward.
He collided with Hari's chest and wrapped his arms around him with all the strength his little body had, trembling with the force of his sobs. "You're real—you're really real—you're not dead—you're here—"
Hari held him tightly. Arms like iron around him, steady and warm.
"Hey, hey—it's okay," he murmured. "It's already happened. You're safe. I'm here."
"I don't want to see anymore—I don't want to watch—I just want to go home," Shikamaru choked out, pressing his tear-streaked face into Hari's chest.
"Then we'll go home," Hari promised.
He kissed the crown of Shikamaru's head, voice thick with emotion.
Hari's arms wrapped around him the moment the light began to dim, shielding him from the last echoes of the memory like a warm cloak against the wind. Shikamaru felt his feet lift from the sands, his small frame carried with ease into the safety of Hari's hold.
The beach—the cove—still shimmered around them in golden hues, the waves gentle, the sky endless.
But Hari wasn't looking at it.
He turned his back on the memory.
"Don't look, Shikamaru," he murmured softly, voice like velvet and steel. "It's not meant for your eyes. Not yet."
Shikamaru's breath hitched, but he buried his face into Hari's shoulder, nodding once, small and trembling. The familiar scent of him—even through memory—settled over him like a balm. He didn't want to see more. He didn't want to feel that pain again.
Hari's hand cradled the back of his head protectively, as if shielding his very thoughts.
The light began to shift around them, memory peeling away like the tide retreating from the shore.
But…
Just before it vanished entirely, something tugged at Shikamaru's curiosity. Something told him to look.
He hesitated.
Then he tilted his head—just a little—peeking over Hari's shoulder.
His breath caught.
Ignotus was still there.
Standing in the same place on the beach, framed by the endless blue horizon. But this time—he wasn't speaking with Hari. He wasn't looking at the sea.
He was staring directly at Shikamaru.
Smiling.
Warm. Knowing.
And then—he winked.
Shikamaru's eyes widened in shock. His fingers clenched tighter into Hari's robes and he quickly buried his face into Hari's shoulder again.
And then the beach was gone.