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Author's Note: First of all, thank you so much for reading this and reviewing! They really make my day! I haven't updated Duality on here for a while, so I'm just going to post chapters it's completely caught up to FF.net. I hope you enjoy!

Important Note: Every paragraph cited with a subscript is either quoted or pharaphrased/augmented from Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. The proper citation is below. (I can't believe I've only made it a few pages in HBP since the last time I included bits of the book. The timeline is definitely AU in this fic.)

Disclaimer: All hail the great JK Rowling. That is all.

Duality: Games

oOo

Hedwig was perched on his stomach when he woke up the next morning, looking incredibly irritated about something. Harry squinted up at her, rubbed his eyes, and reached his hand over to grope for his glasses on the bedside table. "What is it, girl?" he asked in a rough sleep-ridden voice.

She turned her beak up at him and held out her leg, which had a package tied to it. Her irritation confused him and it took him a while to realize that he hadn't visited her in over a month. Petting her head carefully, he gave her a guilty grin as he untied the package.

It was odd getting a package delivered by Hedwig. He didn't remember sending any mail. The only time Hedwig delivered anything to him was after he had sent something first. Carefully, Harry opened the small note that was attached to the package, which was wrapped in parchment.

I picked this up while I was in London and I was going to wait for Christmas, but Ifigured that you might need it now. It has a magical cache that will need to be refilled every once in a while.

- Daphne

P.S. Don't worry about the eighteen Galleons. Blaise is an arse. I took care of it.

Hedwig nipped at his finger, making him drop the parchment. "Okay, I'll find you an owl treat," Harry said with a sigh, massaging the pain out of his finger. He opened the drawer in his bedside table and grabbed a few mouse shaped treats to set out in front of her. "And I'll visit you more often. I'm sorry, I've just been busy."

Her amber eyes glared at him, but she seemed appeased by the treats, and Harry went back to opening the package. What could he possibly need from Daphne...? He didn't even think to get her a Christmas present. Why would she give him one? It wasn't as if they were dating.

What was in the package wasn't much, but Harry recognized what it was immediately. Underneath the parchment was a small burgundy leather case the size of a deck of cards. With a grin, Harry opened it to find it filled with a nice neat row of cigarettes. Plucking one from the confines, he noticed the empty space fill up immediately - that was handy, he'd wondered why Daphne's case was always full - and lit the fag with his wand.

Hedwig cooed at him, twisting her head sideways as she stared. Harry reached up and stroked her feathers, inhaling deeply at his cigarette. Daphne gave excellent gifts, he thought when the nicotine buzz hit. It was the perfect way to relax before the game.

And if the way that Ron was playing as of late was any indication of how the game was going to go, he'd have to catch the snitch a few minutes in just to make sure Gryffindor won. Something glinted at him from his open bedside drawer and Harry glanced at the tiny bottle of Felix Felicis out of the corner of his eye. Maybe, with a little ingenuity -Harry smiled - the game didn't have to go that way.

oOo

The Gryffindor table was more excitable than usual at breakfast and the chatter could be heard outside the Great Hall. Nearly every Gryffindor cheered as Harry and Ron approached and Harry tried to encourage the good moral by grinning and waving. Ron just gri maced weakly and shook his head. Usually Ron loved the attention, but he looked as if he were going to throw up at any moment.

"Cheer up, Ron!" Lavender exclaimed over the ruckus. "I know you'll be brilliant!" ₁
Ron ignored her. ₁

"Tea?" Harry asked, reformulating the plan he had come up with earlier. "Coffee? Pumpkin juice?" ₁

"Anything," Ron said miserably, stuffing his mouth full of toast as if it would distract him from the abysmal game that would inevitably happen. ₁

A few minutes later, Hermione took a seat next to Harry and poured herself a glass of juice.
"So," – her eyes darted tentatively over to Ron – "How are you both feeling?" she asked. ₁

"Fine," Harry said, concentrating on handing Ron a glass of pumpkin juice. He had the bottle of Felix Felicis conspicuously tucked underneath his pinky. "There you go, Ron. Drink up." ₁

Ron had just raised the glass to his lips when Hermione interrupted, throwing a sharp look at Harry, "Don't drink that!" ₁

Harry smirked and Ron looked up at her, his eyes wide. "Why not?" he asked. ₁

"You just put something in that drink," Hermione accused, staring straight at the bottle of Felix. ₁

"Did I?" Harry rhetorically asked, keeping his expression and tone in check. ₁

"I saw you. You tipped something into Ron's drink. You've got the bottle in your hand right now!" ₁

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Harry, stowing the little bottle hastily in his pocket. ₁

"Ron, don't drink it!" Hermione said again, still throwing Harry a disproving look every time she looked back at him. ₁

But Ron picked up the glass, drained it in one gulp, and said, "Stop bossing me around, Hermione." ₁

She gaped and ground her teeth together, looking affronted. Moving close enough to Harry so only he could hear, she muttered, "You should be expelled for that. I'd never have believed it of you, Harry." ₁

Smirking, Harry took a sip of his pumpkin juice. "Hark who's talking," he whispered back. "Confunded anyone lately?" ₁

Hermione's jaw snapped shut and she got up from the table, storming away in a flurry of bushy brown hair. Harry watched her go with little regret. It was a bit of a low blow to bring up the McLaggen issue, but Hermione had never really understood what a serious business Quidditch was – especially on the day of the game. He had to make this plan work. They had to win and Ron wasn't going to play well if he didn't believe in himself. Harry glanced over at the red-headed boy, who looked as if he had just been delivered the miracle cure. ₁

"Nearly time," Harry said, turning his attention to the sky outside the window. "Pretty lucky the weather's this good, yeah?" ₁

"Yeah," Ron muttered, serving himself another helping of eggs and bacon. ₁

Ginny sat down next to Ron and dished herself a plate of food that nearly overflowed. Harry tried not to pay her much attention until she suddenly spoke. "Guess what?" she asked with a wide grin. "That Slytherin Chaser – Vaisey – took a Bludger in the head yesterday during their practice, and he's too sore to play. And even better than that, Malfoy's gone off sick too." ₁

"What?" Harry's brow creased. "He's sick? What's wrong with him?" ₁

"No idea, but it's great for us," Ginny said triumphantly. "They're playing Harper instead. He's in my year and he's an idiot." ₁

Harry smiled back vaguely; yet, as he ate his breakfast, his mind was far from Quidditch. Malfoy claimed he could not play due to being injured before, but every time that happened he made sure the whole match was rescheduled for a time that suited the Slytherins better. Malfoy loved Quidditch more than anything. Why was he now happy to let someone take his place? ₁

Sure, Harry hadn't seen Malfoy in a while so he wasn't certain if Malfoy was ill or not, but Harry was pretty bloody certain that Malfoy was faking. He had to be up to something else. In the back of his mind, he questioned: What was Malfoy doing in the Room of Requirement that he considered more important than Quidditch?

On the upside, it was a rather good stroke of luck to further encourage Ron. "Fishy, isn't it?" Harry whispered, using the situation to his advantage. "Malfoy not playing?" ₁

"Lucky, I call it," said Ron, looking much more animated than he was when they entered the Great Hall. "And Vaisey off too, he's their best goal scorer, I didn't fancy — hey!" he continued, freezing halfway through shoveling a piece of bacon into his mouth and staring at Harry. ₁

"What?" ₁

Ron swallowed the entire piece of bacon without chewing. "I – you…" he dropped his voice, looking both scared and excited. "My drink – my pumpkin juice – you didn't…?"₁
Harry raised his eyebrows and said nothing except, "We'll be starting in about forty-five minutes, you better finish your breakfast." ₁

Picking up his goblet of pumpkin juice, Harry felt a very self-satisfied grin pulling at his lips. Already Nott's lessons seemed to be paying off and they hadn't even gotten to the serious manipulation bit yet. It all made him look forward to what was to come, even if Nott wasn't exactly his ideal choice of tutor. Harry just hoped the Quidditch game went as smoothly as his plan.

oOo

Despite the ruse of Felix Felicis, Ron got more and more nervous as game time neared. Harry wanted to stick around to encourage the Gryffindor boy, but he found himself being pulled away and shoved into a dark cupboard before he could protest.

He knew exactly who it was from the scent of her alone and it was confirmed when her lips briefly touched his. "Good luck today," Daphne whispered, kissing him again – this time for a longer duration. Harry dazedly responded.

He'd almost forgotten that kissing felt this good.

"I have twenty Galleons riding on Gryffindor so you better win."

"You bet against your own team?" Harry asked in an amused tone.

He could barely see her smirk through the darkness. "Of course. Slytherins never let girls on the team – probably because they don't want to be shown up by us. Those misogynistic bastards deserve to lose."

Harry grinned. "Don't worry. We'll beat them." Especially with most of their half-decent players out of the game… speaking of which- "Do you know what happened to Malfoy?"

Daphne let out a small snort. "I wouldn't be a worthy Slytherin if I didn't know, would I?" she drawled and he could tell that she was smirking from her tone of voice. "He's in the hospital wing with a couple shattered ribs and a punctured lung."

Well that was surprising. "Did he fall off his broom?"

"Blaise got a bit angry at him," Daphne said with a shrug.

A bit angry? Harry gaped. "Zabini did that to Malfoy?"

Waving her hand in a dismissing way, she explained, "Boys will be boys."

"And what happened to Zabini? Was he expelled?"

"Apparently they believe that Draco fell down a flight of stairs," Daphne muttered in a light tone. "I won't correct them."

Harry's brow creased. "Why did he…" he started and then stopped himself. "There's something you're not telling me," he accused.

"The details hardly matter."

"And your vague answer makes it obvious," Harry pointed out.

"Nice catch." Daphne reached behind him and turned the door knob to open it a crack. "The game will be starting soon. You should get going."

Reluctantly, Harry turned to go out. He glanced back at her. "This conversation isn't over."

"Good luck with that," Daphne said with a rather mocking smile, which made Harry wonder if he was – indeed – actually speaking to Daphne Greengrass and not a polyjuiced version of her. But she kissed like Daphne, smelled like Daphne, spoke like Daphne…
Unfortunately, he couldn't stick around. The game started in in fifteen minutes and he had to sprint to the locker rooms to get changed in time.

oOo

₁ Rowling, J.K. (2005). Chapter 14: Felix Felicis. Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (US edition) (pp. 292-295). New York, NY: Scholastic Inc.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading and please review!