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Author's Note: Thanks for your reviews! They're absolutely fantastic and spur me to keep going. This is unbetaed as usual, but I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to She-Who-Must-Be-Named.

Duality: A Little Less and More

oOo

Harry was at a loss. The game went great, yes - there was nothing wrong there - but his friends were at each other's throats. Hermione disappeared to some dark corner of the castle and Ron ran off with Lavender. In retrospect, he could understand their anger toward each other, but he had no idea of how he could fix it.

He wasn't certain he could - or even if his friends would ever get over this fight. It was pretty bad.

Harry stuck his hands in his pockets and wandered around the seventh floor corridor aimlessly. Everyone at the party repeatedly harped at him for a play-by-play, so going back there seemed like a terrible idea. He didn't want the prolonged attention. The other players could dole out the stories; he just needed a few minutes away from it all. His eyes roved over the stone walls covered in portraits, then to the wall that led to the door to the Room of Requirement, which had just appeared.

The door opened slowly and Daphne emerged, flicking her wrist repeatedly. Harry's brow creased and he quickly moved to follow her. She didn't seem to notice him. Upon closer inspection, he realized that she was shaking out her hand like he did after writing a particularly long essay.

"I know you're behind me," Daphne said, not turning back to look at him."You're about as stealthy as a hippogriff." She glanced at him over her shoulder with a playful grin and stopped, pulling out her silver case.

"What were you doing in the Room of Requirement?" Harry asked, catching up with her. His nose twitched when he caught the scent of... something odd. It was familiar, but he couldn't place it. It reminded him of the Muggle world, which is probably where he had smelled it before. It was kind of like petrol but it definitely wasn't the smell of petrol.

"Revision," Daphne replied with a shrug, lighting her cigarette.

"In the Room of Requirement?"

Bluish smoke curled along her cheek. "It's a very good place for revision. Quiet, secluded. No chance of interruption."

"You smell odd," Harry commented. "Were you working with potions?"

But there were very few Muggle ingredients that they used in potions...

"Why are you so nosey lately?" Daphne asked with a smirk.

Harry didn't know how to respond to that. He barely knew how to explain why himself. Something was off and he just wanted to know what was going on... that sounded like a good reason.

"I suppose I can't blame you," Daphne said before he had a chance to speak. She admired the ring that formed in the wispy cloud of cigarette smoke."You don't trust me one bit - quite strange, that."

"No it's not," Harry disagreed. "You're... a very suspicious person."

Daphne's eyes narrowed in a calculating fashion. "I make it a point to be somewhat suspicious. I like to keep people guessing, but no one ever gets it right," Daphne explained, drawing deeply at her fag. "You know, what I originally gathered of your character is that you have a dangerous habit of thoughtlessly trusting people." She paused. "This version of you is quite interesting."

Brows furrowed, Harry argued, "I don't trust people thoughtlessly."

"Yes you do."

"Oh really?" Harry asked doubtfully, challenging her.

"You seem to trust Dumbledore more than you should. And I think you may trust him more than anyone."

That was true. Dumbledore was on par with Hermione and Ron when it came to trust, but Harry had no reason to be suspicious of Dumbledore. Sure, Dumbledore was pointlessly showing him bits and pieces of Tom Riddle's life without much explanation of why, but there had to be a point to it sooner or later. It wasn't exactly suspicious activity, even if it was a bit frustrating.

"Why shouldn't I trust Dumbledore? He's..." Harry inhaled, trying to think of a word that encompassed Dumbledore but could only come up with, "/Dumbledore/."

"That'll lead to some rude awakenings someday," Daphne muttered, rolling her eyes and drawing deeply at her cigarette.

"What do you mean by that?"

"He's no saint, Harry." Daphne threw him a smirk, shaking her head. "He may not be an enemy, but I believe in knowing my allies just as well as my enemies. It saves you from the possibility of having your back stabbed by them."

Harry snorted doubtfully. "You really think Dumbledore's abackstabber?"

What in the world could have possibly made her think that? Was she privy to information that he hadn't heard or something? She had to be having him on.

Daphne gazed at him thoughtfully. "What do you think?"

"Obviously if I'm asking you, I'm not sure - but I'm leaning toward yes," Harry answered bitterly, feeling a jolt of irritation creeping up his spine. He hated starting a mind game with a Slytherin. They seemed to get off on it while he just flailed around all confused and apprehensive.

Then again, they were Slytherins, what else could you expect from them?

"It's too soon to tell," Daphne stated. "But I hope I've gotten you little bit curious. Curiosity is a good thing."

"Yes, I'm curious about one thing. What is it that you know that I don't know?" Harry asked, his teeth gritting.

"That would be telling." Daphne pinned him a sly gaze and exhaled a breath full of smoke. "Where's the fun in ruining the joy of discovery?"

What am I trying to discover in the first place? Why Dumbledore is untrustworthy when he's proved that he's more than trustworthy? That seems pointless. Harry almost voiced the question but Daphne interrupted.

"If I were you, I'd start with the related Apocrypha and then go on to the horse's mouth."

Harry set his jaw. "It's not exactly helpful if I can barely get a proper answer out of you."

Daphne let out a small laugh. "I'm giving you proper answers; you just have to piece them together. This is me making you think for yourself. I'm not Granger- I prefer pointing people in the right direction. I'll give you straight answers when they're necessary, or if I feel like it."

"But if you think I shouldn't trust Dumbledore, wouldn't that necessitate a straight answer?"

"Hardly. I'm teaching you something that you need to learn with this example."

"And what's that?"

"Rarely trust on principle alone, obviously," Daphne said, slowly starting to walk down the corridor. Harry followed, processing her words carefully.

She had a point about trusting on principle, but Dumbledore had proven to be trustworthy time and time again - even if he was a bit blasé in his judgement of revealing critical information; the prophecy was a big mistake. However, Harry doubted that Dumbledore would make that mistake again, since the old headmaster deeply regretted it. And Dumbledore was sharing his own memories from Tom Riddle's life, so he must have been trying to reveal as much information as possible to Harry and was probably doing everything he could to keep Harry in the loop… unlike Daphne.

Harry looked over at her, sorely reminded of their conversation this morning. "So why did Zabini have a go at Malfoy?"

Sighing, Daphne took a long drag off her cigarette and stared at him as if she were debating whether to tell him or not. "You're not going to leave me alone about that are you?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well, it's not that big of a deal. They apparently had a row and Draco overstepped his bounds in Blaise's eyes. He was angry enough to forget that he could use his wand. It happens on occasion."

"Huh," Harry breathed, wondering what would cause Zabini to do that. "What was the row about?"

"Probably Draco's usual bigotry tirade. Blaise gets fed up with them and I can only assume that Draco, the ego maniac that he is, kept on going. The verbal spat ensued and then Blaise likely tackled him and took a few swings at him. Draco isn't that good in a fist fight when his opponent is much stronger than him."

"Oh." Harry shrugged to himself. He was pretty sure she was telling the truth, but he knew she was a good liar and didn't know if he could trust that she was, indeed, telling the truth. He tried to look for cues that she wasn't, but there were none that he could see.

He didn't say anything more while they descended a flight of stairs. But his nose crinkled when that petrol-like smell coming from Daphne's cloak wafted over at him again and he had to ask, "Seriously, what is that smell?"

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "What smell?"

"It's coming from your cloak – I think," Harry said, grabbing at her sleeve and sniffing closer.

She pulled her sleeve from his grip and quickly vanished her dead cigarette. "I thought we were discussing more important matters?"

"But I know it from somewhere. I just don't remember what it is and it's bothering me."

"Well that really narrows down the possibilities," Daphne commented lightly, pulling aside the tapestry that led to the secret passageway down to the second floor. "I work with potions often and there are probably a hundred different ingredients spilled on this thing."

Harry shook his head. "I've only smelled that smell when I was in the Muggle world. It's quite strong, so it's a bit hard to miss."

"I use Muggle ingredients in my potions, unlike most people."

"Really?"

"Yes, my mother's a chemist. Chemicals make things interesting."

They reached the stairs and walked down them in tandem. "Okay," he muttered, dropping the subject. She must have been doing a bit more than revising in the Room of Requirement. Why did she have to be so confusing and evasive anyway? And what would make her not trust Dumbledore? And why would Zabini attack Malfoy for being the usual bigoted git that he was? It all didn't make sense to him.

They walked along in silence for a while until Harry realized that he was in the dungeons and Slytherins were spread around everywhere in the corridors. And here he was, walking openly next to Daphne Greengrass, who didn't seem to be very worried about being seen in public with him at the moment.

A stinging hex zipped past his arm and Harry whirled around toward the assailant with his wand out. The dungeons were not a good place to be after winning a Quidditch match against them only a few hours beforehand. He cursed himself for being so bloody stupid and too lost in thought to notice where they were going.

"Fuck off, Harper. Potter's mine," Daphne said idly, dragging Harry along by the sleeve of his shirt. The seeker substitute sneered at them but didn't send another curse in their direction. Harry kept his wand out just in case.

"I don't think I should be down here," Harry whispered through his teeth.

"I was meaning to ask why you were willingly following me," Daphne muttered back to him. Her wand was out as well, eyes roving along each person they passed as if challenging them to say anything.

"I dunno. I wasn't… I didn't notice."

"Obviously," Daphne hissed.

"You don't seem worried about being seen together," Harry said as they turned into an empty corridor, wondering if she was dragging him to the Slytherin Common Room.

"After the pummelling you dealt us with, I doubt they think that I'm dragging you off to fuck you senseless. They can draw their own botched torture-filled conclusions. I'm known to be rather ruthless."

"Are you dragging me off to fuck me senseless?"

"No."

He then realized that they must have passed the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room because she was leading him down dimly lit corridors that he had never ventured in before. It was very different from other parts of the dungeon. Not one single portrait lined the walls and the wall sconces didn't give off enough light, giving it this creepy dim glow that he only saw in horror films on telly.

"Then where are we going?"

"Secret passageway to the first floor," Daphne said, not looking at him. Harry pulled his sleeve from her grip and walked alongside her.

"I didn't know there was one back here."

Daphne just threw him a grin and they continued along quietly. Their footsteps echoed down the corridors, which seemed to twist and turn endlessly. Harry wondered how much of this was on his map. He thought the Marauders had gotten it all, but he didn't know that Hogwarts went this deep – and he studied that map endlessly throughout the years.

"Since you've been questioning me all night, I only think it's fair that I get one in return," Daphne said suddenly, breaking him out of his reverie.

Raising an expectant eyebrow, Harry waited for her to continue.

"I really don't understand us." The centre of Daphne's forehead creased slightly. "Our relationship is mindless, to be honest. But you act like it's more or less at times. Why do you do that?"

She wanted to talk about that now?

Harry hesitated. "Maybe I want it to be a bit more…" Sometimes he did. And other times, he really didn't; however, it could work if she would cooperate. "But you don't let it progress beyond this."

"True… but this is what I do," Daphne responded, pulling out her silver case. She offered it to Harry and he took one while she lit up. "I don't do serious relationships. Never have."

"Why not?" Harry asked, gazing at her curiously.

She stared at him as if she seriously doubted his sanity, but he could sense a bit of sadness behind it and his brow furrowed. "I suppose that I'm not willing to divulge enough personal information to anyone that would enable a boyfriend-girlfriend type status. Maybe that's it. I'm not exactly certain."

Part of him felt as if there was more to it than that, but the bitter part took over without a second thought. "You seem to tell Zabini enough," Harry said sullenly, inhaling deeply at the fag.

Daphne fixed her gaze on him and gave him a doubtful look. "Blaise draws really good conclusions. I don't know how he does it but he's pretty damn impressive."

Blaise draws conclusions from things he cannot see… Harry's brows furrowed. "Does that mean your shoulder really was injured and you lied to me?"

"Jesus, not the shoulder thing again." Daphne rolled her eyes. "I never lie to you, I just-"

"Yeah, I know, you leave a lot of the truth out," Harry interrupted. "It's the difference between a good liar and an excellent one."

"Of course," Daphne muttered with a wave of her hand. She inhaled deeply at her fag. "Seems you've worked it all out, haven't you?"

"I'm not exactly thick."

"And you're consorting with Theo," Daphne continued with a smile.

Harry snapped his mouth shut when he realized that he must have said too much and busied his mouth with his cigarette.

"Don't look at me like that – 'I'm not exactly thick' either." Smoke curled from her lips as she spoke. "I can see the parallels. I know Theo too well."

"That was an unprompted straight answer for once," Harry said with a slight grin.

Rolling her eyes, Daphne snorted. "Just an observation. It doesn't take much more than opening your eyes and ears to notice what's in front of you."

"Yeah…" Harry muttered, trailing off and not looking at her. There probably was a lot that he missed by not doing that – properly anyway.

"So is he giving you pointers on manipulation in exchange for some dastardly deed?"

"Just an invite to Slughorn's Christmas party. Not as a date though." He felt he needed to add that in for some reason.

Daphne shook her head. "Theo's kind of a sociopath, Harry," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Only plays gay when it benefits him but he doesn't enjoy doing it. He's not likely to come on to you, of all people."

Well, that definitely eased his worries a bit. Harry blinked, remembering his conversation with Hermione after the tutoring session. "Speaking of Slughorn's Christmas party, could you talk to Zabini for me?"

"You can't talk to him yourself?"

"It's about Hermione," Harry elaborated. "He asked her to Slughorn's Christmas party and she's not sure if she should go with him. She said yes out of spite. Ron and her aren't getting on."

"Are you certain that's all?" Daphne asked, grinning. "I've heard that she was going with McClaggen as well."

With a sigh, Harry pursed his lips. There wasn't much that he could get past her, was there? "She accidentally said yes to both of them."

"And you want me to speak to him for her because maybe I could sway him," Daphne concluded. "But even if I did, Blaise won't listen."

"Why is he even remotely interested in her? He's… well, you know." Harry took a last drag on his cigarette before vanishing it.

"A bit of a pureblooded prick when it comes to women?" Daphne offered.

Harry nodded. He had heard as much – he only had rumours to go off of. However, if Zabini attacked Malfoy for being an evil bigot… it was all so confusing.

"Outwardly, Blaise is much different than he is when he lets his guard down. He only has the pureblooded preference to appease his mother; it's not his own preference or belief as much as he'd like to think it is. He's attracted to strong women with brains and a nice arse all on his own and Granger has it all. Either way, I think it might be good for him to go for someone who isn't a fascist." Daphne vanished her dead cigarette. "I could speak to McClaggen for you if you like though."

The image of Daphne and McClaggen speaking floated through his mind and he didn't like it one bit. McClaggen was too… big and determined when it came to Hermione. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea," Harry muttered hesitantly.

"If you'd prefer," Daphne said, opening a door to what he thought was an empty classroom or cupboard but it revealed a steep staircase that seemed to lead up to the first floor. She held it open for him and looked at him expectantly.

"Aren't you coming with?" Harry asked.

"Do you need me to make sure there aren't any nasty Slytherins around up there as well?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I can take care of myself." He paused, awkwardly shifting on his feet. "Guess I'll see you around then?"

"Mm. See you, Harry," Daphne said with a nod and he ascended the staircase slowly, only looking back when the door slammed shut behind him.

His conversations with Daphne were definitely getting stranger and stranger.

oOo

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Please review.