Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Duality
Amiable
HBP AU. Being a teenager is hard enough; add nefarious plots, the Dark Lord, and house rivalries into the mix. A story of enlightenment, growing up, and getting over yourself. Harry/Daphne.
?Blocked
Author’s Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed – since the last chapter was incredibly short, I think two short chapters are in order. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: It's all JK's. I don’t own a one of them, except – maybe – a bit of the plot.
Duality: Amiable
oOo
“So what do you do at those secret meetings with Dumbledore?” Daphne suddenly asked, her head turned toward him. She was splayed out on the grassy floor of a meadow in the Room of Requirement, a cigarette perched between her fingers. The twilight, provided by the room, casted shadows on the lines of her face.
Harry looked up at her from the Prince’s book and his Potions essay, for Slughorn, barely half finished. The Marauder’s Map laid off to the side, tracking Draco Malfoy in the dungeons. “How did you know about those?”
Daphne snorted. “I’m a Slytherin, Harry. I have my ways.”
Rolling his eyes, Harry sighed. Now that he had gotten to know her a little better, he shouldn’t have been so surprised. She had done her own Polyjuice experiment in second year to figure out if he was the heir of Slytherin, after weeks of studying Hermione’s mannerisms. He wished he had thought of studying Crabbe and Goyle, but then decided that there really wasn’t much to study when it came to those two. It surprised him that someone besides Hermione would come up with something like that, but – after he thought about it – that sneaky method of gathering information was such a Slytherin tactic.
“He’s teaching me things, that’s all. Stuff for Voldemort,” he said, hoping he was vague enough. Daphne’s cheek twitched slightly at the mention of ‘Voldemort’, as if the Dark Lord was more of an irritation than something to be frightened of.
“Pfft. I s’pose he’s taken an awful lot of interest in you over the years.” She flicked her ashes off to the side, into the thick grass. A trickle of smoke curled from her lips. “Like an obsessive ex-boyfriend.”
Harry sniggered. “Obsessive? Yes. Boyfriend? That would be horrifying.”
“Imagine the Prophet if that happened.”
Wincing, Harry frowned and shook his head. “Never gonna to happen. I’d rather be eaten alive by a Blast-Ended Skrewt.”
Daphne laughed quietly, smiling wide up at the stars. He smiled in response. It was hard not to feel at ease around her.
“So,” she paused for a brief moment before continuing, “how’s that essay coming along?”
He stared down at the parchment and shrugged. “Could be worse. I’m half done with it, at least. Hermione’s been getting on me for it for the last few days.”
Sitting up, Daphne crossed her legs and turned toward him. He quickly covered the map with the Prince’s book. “’Guess I could help you out with it. Did you mention the three types of dragon’s blood that can change the properties?” she asked, looking down at his half-written essay, raising an eyebrow.
With a sigh, Harry settled into the essay – and with the help of the Prince and Daphne, his essay was completed in record time. By the time it was done, the edge of his palm was blackened from scrawling out all the notes that would probably be useful to remember for the end-of-semester exams. Daphne rattled off information, random things popping up, in quite a Hermione-like fashion that he was comfortable with. However, he had never taken notes while Hermione did it, but Potions was the one class that he knew he needed all the aid that he could get. Snape certainly wasn’t any help over the years.
“Are you going to Hogsmeade?” Daphne asked after she read over the revised version of his Potions essay.
“Yeah, most likely. Why?” Harry discreetly folded up the Marauder’s Map and tucked it into the Prince’s book, after noting that Draco Malfoy had been in his room for the last hour.
She shrugged. “Want to meet at the Hog’s Head or something? Some place where no one goes, of course. S’bad enough that Weasley let out that you’re 'dating’,” she formed air quotes with her fingers, “a Slytherin. Probably wouldn’t be too proper to drag you into the Three Broomsticks, tempting as it is.”
Grinning, Harry packed his stuff into his school bag. A date at the Hog’s Head sounded vastly better than Madame Puddifoot’s. He was planning to ask Daphne, but wasn’t sure if it would be comfortable for her, being in semi-public with him. There was a lot of suspicion going around Hogwarts. “I’ve been to the Hog’s Head before. If I can sneak away without attracting attention, I’ll be there, but don’t hold me to it.”
“Brill.” Daphne plucked a cigarette from her silver case and lit it with her wand, then offered the case to him.
Harry stared down at it with some reservation, but grabbed at a fag anyway. To hell with it, if I’m going to die fighting Voldemort, might as well live a little. Thoughts of meeting with Dumbledore later swirled around his head as he tapped his wand against the tip of the cigarette.
Disclaimer: It's all JK's. I don’t own a one of them, except – maybe – a bit of the plot.
Duality: Amiable
oOo
“So what do you do at those secret meetings with Dumbledore?” Daphne suddenly asked, her head turned toward him. She was splayed out on the grassy floor of a meadow in the Room of Requirement, a cigarette perched between her fingers. The twilight, provided by the room, casted shadows on the lines of her face.
Harry looked up at her from the Prince’s book and his Potions essay, for Slughorn, barely half finished. The Marauder’s Map laid off to the side, tracking Draco Malfoy in the dungeons. “How did you know about those?”
Daphne snorted. “I’m a Slytherin, Harry. I have my ways.”
Rolling his eyes, Harry sighed. Now that he had gotten to know her a little better, he shouldn’t have been so surprised. She had done her own Polyjuice experiment in second year to figure out if he was the heir of Slytherin, after weeks of studying Hermione’s mannerisms. He wished he had thought of studying Crabbe and Goyle, but then decided that there really wasn’t much to study when it came to those two. It surprised him that someone besides Hermione would come up with something like that, but – after he thought about it – that sneaky method of gathering information was such a Slytherin tactic.
“He’s teaching me things, that’s all. Stuff for Voldemort,” he said, hoping he was vague enough. Daphne’s cheek twitched slightly at the mention of ‘Voldemort’, as if the Dark Lord was more of an irritation than something to be frightened of.
“Pfft. I s’pose he’s taken an awful lot of interest in you over the years.” She flicked her ashes off to the side, into the thick grass. A trickle of smoke curled from her lips. “Like an obsessive ex-boyfriend.”
Harry sniggered. “Obsessive? Yes. Boyfriend? That would be horrifying.”
“Imagine the Prophet if that happened.”
Wincing, Harry frowned and shook his head. “Never gonna to happen. I’d rather be eaten alive by a Blast-Ended Skrewt.”
Daphne laughed quietly, smiling wide up at the stars. He smiled in response. It was hard not to feel at ease around her.
“So,” she paused for a brief moment before continuing, “how’s that essay coming along?”
He stared down at the parchment and shrugged. “Could be worse. I’m half done with it, at least. Hermione’s been getting on me for it for the last few days.”
Sitting up, Daphne crossed her legs and turned toward him. He quickly covered the map with the Prince’s book. “’Guess I could help you out with it. Did you mention the three types of dragon’s blood that can change the properties?” she asked, looking down at his half-written essay, raising an eyebrow.
With a sigh, Harry settled into the essay – and with the help of the Prince and Daphne, his essay was completed in record time. By the time it was done, the edge of his palm was blackened from scrawling out all the notes that would probably be useful to remember for the end-of-semester exams. Daphne rattled off information, random things popping up, in quite a Hermione-like fashion that he was comfortable with. However, he had never taken notes while Hermione did it, but Potions was the one class that he knew he needed all the aid that he could get. Snape certainly wasn’t any help over the years.
“Are you going to Hogsmeade?” Daphne asked after she read over the revised version of his Potions essay.
“Yeah, most likely. Why?” Harry discreetly folded up the Marauder’s Map and tucked it into the Prince’s book, after noting that Draco Malfoy had been in his room for the last hour.
She shrugged. “Want to meet at the Hog’s Head or something? Some place where no one goes, of course. S’bad enough that Weasley let out that you’re 'dating’,” she formed air quotes with her fingers, “a Slytherin. Probably wouldn’t be too proper to drag you into the Three Broomsticks, tempting as it is.”
Grinning, Harry packed his stuff into his school bag. A date at the Hog’s Head sounded vastly better than Madame Puddifoot’s. He was planning to ask Daphne, but wasn’t sure if it would be comfortable for her, being in semi-public with him. There was a lot of suspicion going around Hogwarts. “I’ve been to the Hog’s Head before. If I can sneak away without attracting attention, I’ll be there, but don’t hold me to it.”
“Brill.” Daphne plucked a cigarette from her silver case and lit it with her wand, then offered the case to him.
Harry stared down at it with some reservation, but grabbed at a fag anyway. To hell with it, if I’m going to die fighting Voldemort, might as well live a little. Thoughts of meeting with Dumbledore later swirled around his head as he tapped his wand against the tip of the cigarette.
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