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Duality	By : Andafaith Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 70195 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, characters, nor plots or the world within. No copyright infringement intended and no money or profit is being made from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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Author’s Note: Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed! You lot are absolutely fantastic and I appreciate every single one of you. Also, thank you to RAfan2421 for beta-ing and pre-reading! I really hope you enjoy this chapter!
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Duality: Saltation

OoO
They all were seated around the control room. An extra chair was conjured to accommodate Astoria, who was sitting off to the side of the table and eating the only bit of cake left after they were through with Goyle. Harry grabbed his red case, plucked out a cigarette, and lit it with Daphne’s gold lighter. He was going to need it for this discussion.
“Has Graham gotten back to you on the Vanishing Cabinet?” Nott asked, pushing his glasses up his nose and looking over at Daphne.
“Mhm.” Daphne was still stripping off her jeans and shoes; she had just gotten back from returning Uncle Vernon’s newly-unsilenced car, which was triple-checked to make sure it was just as it was when they got it. “He got the room to show it was in there. Shouldn’t be any trouble getting to it if we need.”
“I think we should destroy it before any of this can happen,” Hermione muttered, running her fingers through her bushy hair, which was radiating magical energy ever since they came to the realization as to why Voldemort wanted Hogwarts.
Harry partially agreed with her suggestion, but it was all more complicated now. As soon as Malfoy revealed it, Harry wanted to destroy it more than anything; however, after having a week to think about it and having more insight on the situation, he wasn’t so certain.
“You know, we could capture a lot of Death Eaters – members of his inner circle – if we don’t destroy it,” Harry replied, exhaling a breath full of smoke. “We have ample information about the plan. I think that, if we round up the Order and the DA once Cornfoot gets it fixed, we could take them all out. If we destroyed it, we wouldn’t be able to do that.”
“Decent plan – I’m in for a Death Eater takedown,” Daphne said, leaning back in her chair and draping her arm over it. “I mean, if we destroy it, we also wouldn’t know what else the Dark Lord has up his sleeve. When the Vanishing Cabinet doesn’t work for him, he’ll obviously still try to siege Hogwarts – use a signature duplication potion, secret passages, blow open the front gates; God knows what. It would make everything we’ve done here pointless.”
“It may sound like a good plan and all, but think of what you’re suggesting,” Hermione countered, turning fiercely toward the Slytherin girl. “We’d be knowingly allowing Death Eaters to enter the castle – allowing dangerous people to enter a school full of children. There has to be another way.”
“There isn’t, Granger,” Daphne muttered ruefully with a discreet roll of her eyes. “We’re pretty much fucked in the ‘choice department’.”
“And we’ll be prepared for the Death Eaters since we know what’s happening,” Harry added. “Like Daph said, Voldemort will end up doing something else if this doesn’t work for him and we won’t be prepared for that. This is a better option.”
Straightening out her bra strap, Hermione bit her lip. “I still don’t like.”
“So what’s the immediate plan then?” Nott asked, staring at Harry with an excited glint in his eyes. “Keep a close watch on Cornfoot and track his progress?”
“Seems like the best option,” Harry said, shrugging a shoulder, feeling a bit drained at the thought. The Marauders Map would marginally help. It was too bad that the Room of Requirement didn’t show up on the bloody thing.
“I know a friend of a friend who might be able to assist us with that,” Daphne pitched in, shrugging and glancing toward Zabini. “You’re still on talking-terms with Montague, right?”
“Oh, I’m the friend, I take it?” Zabini asked, his lips curving into a smirk. “I haven’t talked to Sylvia since November, but we parted ways amicably.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed toward the dark Slytherin boy; Harry knew that look all too well – the Lavender Brown stare of death. He’d never pegged Hermione to be such a jealous person before, but she definitely was.
Daphne’s brow rose. “Do you think she’ll be cooperative?”
“Probably. If not, she’s easily bribed.”
“That’s good. I’ll soften her up with something from Gabriel Enchant. What’s her cloak size?” she asked, grabbing a pen from the centre of the table and writing something down on a piece of parchment.
“What are you two going on about?” Nott interrupted, fiddling with the edge of the Sortilege Manual in his lap. He guarded that bloody document with his life.
“Montague’s a Ravenclaw,” Daphne explained with a wave of her hand. “She’s best friends with Dahlia Runcorn – Cornfoot’s girlfriend. She could be useful.”
Nott stared at her as if she had just spouted four heads. “I could have sworn that Cornfoot was into blokes – he always does the ‘once over’ to Blaise in Charms.”
“I did not need to know that,” Zabini muttered. Then he said quickly, glancing over at Daphne’s parchment note, “Er - I think she’s a size six.”
Hermione’s teeth audibly gnashed together and Harry pursed his lips to keep himself from laughing.
“Thanks. And I really don’t think Cornfoot’s gay, Theo – I’ve heard that he and Dahlia were caught snogging in the Astronomy tower a few weeks ago and Padma Patil is pretty good at delivering accurate rumours.” Daphne snorted, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Wish I could say the same about her sister.”
“Okay, so,” Harry cut in. “New plan – we keep close watch on Cornfoot in every way we can think of and track his progress on the cabinet. Yes?”
“What are you going to do about the Ministry moles?” Astoria asked, setting her empty plate on the table.
“I’m going to talk to a few people I know who work in the Ministry who I trust.” Harry bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. “They might be able to help if I point out who the moles are – keep close watch and maybe implicate them?”
“Er – how exactly are you going to explain to them how you got that information?” Hermione inquired, her brows furrowing uncertainly.
Taking a drag off his cigarette, Harry shrugged again. “I haven’t figured that part out yet. Any bright ideas?”
“You could use me,” Daphne offered, reaching across the table toward Astoria’s pack of Davidoffs. “I’m a Slytherin – a trusted one that you’re ‘dating’ and I offered you some information that I overheard.”
Hermione shook her head. “That’s dodgy. You’re not very trustable.”
The two glared at each other from across the table.
“How about you say that you’ve made some new allies in other houses who are good at getting their hands on information and leave it at that?” Nott suggested. “Not only is it true, but it’s vague enough that it doesn’t incriminate us and what we’re doing.”
“That’s not bad actually,” Zabini commented, moving over to the mini refrigerator to fetch a drink.
Harry vaguely nodded, mulling it over in his mind – imagining the conversation between him and Mr. Weasley and possibly Tonks and Remus. He had a feeling it was going to be extremely difficult convincing them of what they’d gathered from Malfoy and Goyle. It was too early to tell them about the siege, but the moles… Nott’s excuse was the best he could think of to justify the information.
“I could back up your accusations if you need me to – once I get to the Burrow. I’ll only be at my parents only for a couple of days,” Hermione offered. Harry nodded toward her thankfully.
“Alright. Sorted,” Daphne muttered, flicking her wand to light her cigarette and looking around the room. “I can’t believe we’re leaving this place tomorrow. Feels like we’ve been here forever.”
“That’s because we haven’t gotten much sleep in the past two weeks,” Hermione sardonically intoned and they all shared small smiles and short huffs of laughter.
It was a strange way to bond – spending two weeks in a stifling hot warehouse in Muggle London, interrogating two teenaged Death Eaters – but Harry felt that it was a silver lining to the war, in some way; that a common enemy could bring together an unlikely group of Slytherins and Gryffindors. And a Muggle.
It gave him a small glimpse of hope for the future and made him feel a lot less alone in his struggles, as if the weight of the Wizarding world was just a bit more bearable.

OoO
During his last night with Daphne, he lost count how many times they fucked. He wasn’t very knowledgeable about sex, but he was pretty sure that they had tried every conceivably reasonable position imaginable. Not only in Daphne’s bed, but also in her bathroom, against her bedroom door – not forgetting the silencing charms this time – on the floor, and then there was a bed-floor combination… the shower.
Bloody hell, he was raw.
The apparation from Daphne’s house to the apparation point outside of the warehouse jostled him, causing his boxers to painfully chafe against him. Even Daphne was occasionally wincing from the aftereffects of last night.
“So if we were staying at your house for this entire time,” he asked as they tightened their coats around themselves on the short walk toward the warehouse door, “where are you going to be when we go back?”
Daphne glanced over at him. “You caught that did you?”
“The first rule of time travel is you must not be seen,” Harry replied, remembering the time he and Hermione saved Sirius with her time-turner.
“That’s why I’m going to stay with Johnson. He has a few jobs for me to do that require magic and I owe him a lot for helping with this whole thing,” she explained. “I also have a list of where everyone has been in the past two weeks so I can avoid us. Oh, and I have to repay Croaker for giving me the Sortilege Manual as well…” she trailed off with a disgruntled sigh.
“Croaker?” Harry’s brows furrowed. That name sounded familiar… “Wasn’t he that Unspeakable bloke that worked with Bode? The one who got attacked last year?”
“Yeah. Croaker retired after Bode died and went underground. Johnson does jobs for him occasionally.”
“So will he be in Vladivostok too?” Harry asked, remembering that Daphne said something to Astoria about Johnson being in Vladivostok during the past week.
“I really need to watch my words around you now that you’re paying more attention,” she said, reaching over to mess up his hair.
He shrugged her off, smirking. “So I’m not supposed to know about that?”
“Not really.”
Harry’s brows furrowed. “What is it that you do for Johnson exactly?” He didn’t really like Johnson all that much so the suspicion was highly warranted.
“Are you interrogating me about my work, Potter?” she asked playfully.
“I don’t see why I can’t know.”
“He’s a Squib, I’m not. Put two and two together,” Daphne answered vaguely as they entered the much more comfortably heated warehouse. “Looks like Granger fixed the Climate Control spell finally.”
He sensed that the conversation about what she did for Johnson was one to be had at a later date.
When he opened the door to the control room, he almost ran headlong into Astoria and she stepped aside, letting him through. “Sorry – I was hoping you were Johnson.”
Right. Both of the Greengrass cousins were involved with Johnson somehow. He itched to roll his eyes.
“That’s alright. Why are you here?” Harry stripped off his coat, his brows furrowed. “I thought you had to work today.”
Astoria worked as an ammunition technician, specializing in disabling and disposing of explosive ordnance and various munitions for the Ministry of Defense. Harry thought it was an interesting job – quite dangerous too at times, apparently.
His instincts told him that it was probably useful for Johnson.
“I took the day off,” she replied with a shrug. “Eric doesn’t know the detainees so I figured I’d fully debrief him on the situation. Formulate some plans with him.”
To Harry’s right, Daphne entered the control room digging around in her pockets and she pulled out a small sachet full of off-white powder. “Here,” she offered, handing the sachet to Astoria. “It’s scopolamine. If you have any trouble making them go double agent, hallucinations could give you an advantage. Johnson’s good with dosages, so trust him.”
That was news to him.
“Double agent?” Harry interrupted. “Seriously?”
Daphne shrugged. “What else are we going to do with them? They’ve likely given us all of the information that they have. If we, at least, get them to turn, they’ll be able to benefit us in some way. And we could let them out – give them some hope. They’re not going to want to stay bound in Granger’s special magic-binding shackles forever. Astoria has a little experience with this.”
“Right,” he muttered, pursing his lips. “Your fiancé.”
“Ex-fiancé,” Astoria corrected sharply, setting the scopolamine on the table in the middle of the control room. “I’ve a feeling that the brat will be easier than Goyle.”
“Doubtful. Goyle is incredibly self-serving. Blackmail him, bribe him, and shoot him somewhere non-vital if he starts rambling on about how inferior Muggles are to magical people,” Daphne explained, moving over to the mini fridge to get out a bottle of cola. “He’s the easy one.”
“No. That’s doubtful,” Astoria argued. “Your plan may work, but how will he explain his time spent here once he goes back?”
“You’ll train him in deception. I can get someone to give him occlumency lessons. Then, after he’s free to go, he can explain to the Death Eaters that he was on the run from the Order of the Phoenix.”
Astoria’s brow rose. “And what about his father? You said he was dead. If we don’t tell him and the opposition does, that can make Goyle turn back on us faster than any bribe or blackmail we lay on him. Your plan is shit.”
Daphne let out a long breath. “Alright then. Discuss it with Johnson. What do you have planned for Draco?”
“Demirović was just like him. I’m sure if I apply the correct amount of pressure, he’ll crumble like iron oxide,” Astoria said, regarding Daphne tersely.
“You’re going to do the same thing?” Pulling her silver case out of her pocket, Daphne lit up.
“No. Not exactly,” she replied, staring over Harry’s shoulder at the mirrors, which depicted Goyle and Malfoy in separate interrogation rooms. “But I’ll need to get in his favour. I read his file and… I’ll need a bit of help for my tactic to work. Do you know any Death Eaters who can get ahold of his mother?”
Harry glanced at Daphne carefully as she looked at him. “Yes, I do. He’s not exactly a Death Eater though.” The reluctance in her voice was palpable and Harry’s brows rose.
“Who?” he questioned.
“Michael Bonneville,” Daphne revealed after a brief moment of hesitation. “He works for Gringotts and manages illicit monetary transactions off the record for the Malfoy, Avery, and Lestrange accounts. Probably a few others too.”
“Excellent,” Astoria said at the same time Harry asked, “How do you know him?”
Daphne threw him a sharp glance. “Johnson put me in touch with him for a job or two. Please don’t implicate him to the Order, Harry. If I remain as one of his contacts and get closer to him, then I can figure out where the money is coming from and where the money is going. That can be exceedingly useful in the future of this war.”
Harry sighed, biting the inside of his cheek. “Fine.”
“Are you close enough to him to ask him to get you a meeting with Draco’s mum?” Astoria asked, grabbing Daphne’s silver case and lighter.
“Yeah.” Daphne’s eyes got a faraway look to them. “I think I’ve an idea on how to do that. You know how Goyle said that Narcissa is going around Europe to look for Draco?”
Both Harry and Astoria nodded.
“She’ll probably need to meet with him for some quick Galleons and I’m going back in time. If I contact Bonneville as soon as I go back, I may be able to intercept her before she leaves the country.”
“Good,” Astoria muttered. “Do that.”
“You’ll owe me for this.”
“You already owe me for turning the brat.”
“That confident in this, are you?” Daphne let out a short uncertain laugh. “I’ll put her in one of Johnson’s safe houses and lay down a false trail of her travel throughout Europe.” She glanced at the clock on the wall and pulled out her wand. Using a small mirror that was laying on the table, she got to work on a glamour.
“Wait. What are you going to do?” Harry asked, his brows furrowing.
“Well, I need to go in there and ask Draco about the properties that his family has. Without that, I’m running blind.” Daphne’s hair shortened and turned blonde with a few sweeps of her wand. She emerged from behind the mirror looking identical to Astoria. “The Dark Lord will be expecting Narcissa to visit them so I’ll have to impersonate her after I get her safe.”
Harry stared at her incredulously. “Are you mad? Haven’t you captured enough people in the past month?”
“She’s not the first Malfoy I’ve captured and impersonated and I doubt that she’ll be the last.” Daphne turned her wand on Harry and he felt the itchy sensation of a glamour slip over his face. The eyesight charm and voice changing charm came next and he didn’t even need to guess who he looked like.
“I can just ask him, you know,” Astoria said, blowing out a short puff of smoke. “You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s fine. We need to do this quickly and Harry can get him to talk if he won’t reveal anything.” Daphne pointed her wand at her throat and performed a voice changing charm to match Astoria’s. “Come on, Harry.”
They walked out of the room and Harry’s eyes narrowed toward her. “What jobs did you do for Michael Bonneville?” he asked, taking the chance and ignoring his incredulity over their sudden plan to kidnap Malfoy’s mum.
Daphne transfigured her cloak into a Muggle-style trench coat and vanished her dead cigarette, letting out a slightly frustrated sigh. “It was a money matter. Bonneville made a few exchanges of cash for diamonds. I believe it was for the Lestranges, but it could have been for the Malfoys.”
Harry’s brows rose. “I thought you only did ‘magic jobs’ for the Squib. Diamonds don’t sound very magical.”
“They’re more magical than you think,” Daphne spoke quietly as they passed the door to the kitchenette, where Nott, Zabini, and Hermione seemed to be eating breakfast. “I mean, if you’re a wizard, diamonds are easier to conceal and smuggle from country to country in comparison to money, especially Galleons. They’re every black market’s best friend.”
“Where did you-”
“Oi! Where are you two off to?” Nott called from inside the kitchenette room, interrupting him.
“We’re just going to speak to the brat. We’ll be out before you have to leave,” Daphne answered, putting a tiny European lilt to some of her words to mirror Astoria’s slight accent.
Sometimes he wondered just how deeply deception and manipulation wove through Daphne’s veins.
“You are, by far, the most suspicious person I’ve ever met in my entire life,” Harry whispered briskly, pulling her toward Malfoy’s interrogation room. “We’re going to have to rectify that one of these days.”
“I know – we will. Let’s just get in there and do this; we don’t have much time,” she said quickly, opening the door and slamming it shut behind them.
Malfoy was still sleeping in his transfigured cot, his chained arm dangling over the side of the bed. He woke up with a jolt when the door slammed.
“What do you want now?” he mumbled, yawning, his voice rough from sleep.
“We need to know the location of all the properties your family owns in Europe,” Daphne said, cutting straight to the point.
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed as he sat up, leaning back against the wall and pulling at his chained arm. “Why?”
“I’m going to rescue your mother. She’s been looking for you at those properties so our time to act is now.”
The tired smile that spilt across Malfoy’s face told Harry that they weren’t going to have to strong-arm him for this information.

OoO

“I wish I could go with you,” Harry said after they exited Malfoy’s interrogation room and Daphne stripped off their glamours. Malfoy sang like a fucking canary in there. “You can’t do this alone and we still have so much to discuss.”
She turned toward him, a small grin pulling at her lips. “Who said I was going to do this alone?”
“I’m glad you’re not, but that doesn’t distract me from the fact that we have massive communication issues,” Harry dryly replied.
They stopped short when Johnson walked out of the control room, straightening out his dark grey suit jacket. That was their cue to leave the warehouse – as soon as he arrived. Harry let out a nearly imperceptible sigh.
He wasn’t ready to leave yet.
“Excellent work getting the location of the Malfoy summer home, my dear,” Johnson drawled in his smooth tenor voice.
It was hard to believe that he was Angelina Johnson’s grandfather. They seemed so different. Did she even know about him at all?
“It wasn’t for you, Eric,” Daphne answered. “It’s for a job. The fact that you overheard it was luck on your part.”
“I’ll keep away from it for a few weeks then,” Johnson replied, his eyes glancing around the corridor of the warehouse. “Have my facilities treated you well?”
“They have. Am I clear on my payment?” Daphne asked cryptically.
“In full. It went well.”
“No details – time travel.”
“Of course. Now, if I may ask – what is Mr. Potter doing here?” Johnson questioned, glancing over at Harry with a smirk.
“No, you may not ask,” Daphne said lightly, grabbing Harry’s hand and moving to walk around the sleazy Squib. “As far as you’re concerned, you haven’t seen Harry Potter since Slughorn’s Christmas party.”
Johnson drawled in return, “My lips are sealed.”
“Contact me if you need anything,” Daphne called back to him.
“You’re really going to have to let me in one of these days,” Harry whispered as they entered the control room, only to be met by Zabini, Hermione, and Nott’s faces staring back at them. Their pile of luggage was rounded up in the middle of the room. The kittens, sans two for Astoria’s twins, were with Crookshanks in his pet carrier.
“Now’s not exactly the time,” Daphne muttered to him and then raised her voice to a normal volume, “Are we ready to go?”
“Yes, grab your luggage,” Nott instructed. “We’ll apparate to a back alley near King’s Cross and – if my calculations are correct – once we go back in time, that’ll give us five minutes until we have to apparate onto the Hogwarts Express. It’ll be close.” He glanced down at his watch. “We’ll have to move quickly.”
Harry took his rucksack and trunk, hauling it behind him with the side handle. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Zabini helping Hermione with the pet carrier and offering to carry her bags, which should have put points in his favour, but it only made Harry want to punch him a little bit.
Daphne took him with her when they reached their apparation point and he caught himself on his trunk as they landed. His heart was pounding in his chest and his feelings were all mixed up.
Nott pulled the time turner out from under his shirt and un-looped the chain, extending it until it was long enough to fit all of their heads comfortably. “Alright. Hop in and grab your luggage. Anything you’re not carrying won’t be coming back,” he said, holding the chain out for Hermione and Zabini to get in.
Harry and Daphne joined and they all tightened their grips on their trunks, rucksacks, and bags.
Part of him was excited to go back and stay at Ron’s for Christmas and tell the Order of all of the things he learned. But it felt slightly alien to him now that it was actually going to happen. It was strange that he was going to have to lie – withhold information – to so many people that he trusted.
And it amazed him how comfortable he was in that warehouse and how uncomfortable he was going back. He was comfortable with interrogating Malfoy and kidnapping Goyle – making active decisions in the war. It came to him so easily…
The Time Turner spun and he knew he was going to have to live somewhat of a double life from now on.
But if that was what was needed for the war, then so be it. What was one more secret to keep on top of his growing pile of other secrets? He didn’t regret a single thing that he did over the past two weeks. He just hoped he would have a more active role going forward.
Two weeks from now, he wasn’t going to tolerate any backseat bullshit from Daphne anymore. That was certain.

OoO
Author’s Note: Thank you for reading and please review!
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Duality