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Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I would probably have a room full of money like Scrooge McDuck because that would be ridiculously fun to have regardless of its impracticality.

Duality: The Excursion

oOo

Harry felt half dead on his feet as he stepped out of the warehouse into the morning sun. After spending the entire night drilling protocols into his head from the Sortilege Manual, the pepper-up potion that Nott gave him was likely the only thing keeping him awake and alert at the moment. He pulled Zabini's thick jacket around him tighter to shield him from the freezing air. It contrasted so much from sub-tropical temperature of the inside. Thanks to having to polyjuiced into Zabini, he was a good five or six inches taller and felt a bit awkward in the Slytherin boy's form, but it was an immense relief to get away from Nott and the whole Malfoy situation for a bit. However, it did take a lot of convincing. They treated him as if he was a delicate eggshell and Voldemort was an evil hammer.

"So, Granger, any good at apparation?" Daphne asked, pulling her wand out of her sleeve and staring at the bushy-haired Gryffindor expectantly.

"I'm not licensed yet," Hermione replied reservedly. "Can't we just-"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "I didn't ask if you were licensed."

"I'm okay at it." Hermione glared, crossing her arms over her chest. "But I think we should use Muggle transportation. We've enough polyjuice."

"We don't have enough time – it's easier to apparate and it's much faster. We have to go all the way to Downing Street. Do you think you can side-long Harry, or do you trust me enough to take him?"

"I'll take him," Hermione said stubbornly, grabbing at his arm. "We'll see you there."

With a nod, Daphne took a deep breath and spun away with a soft 'pop'.

Harry's stomach flipped nervously as he stared at Hermione. She didn't seem particularly worried, but he had never seen her apparate. If she botched it up, he winced at the thought of being splinched. The adrenaline spiking in veins made the pepper-up potion's effect hit him at full force and his heart pounded in his chest as his ears let out a burst of steam.

Before he knew it, he was spinning into oblivion, his entire body under pressure, like he was being squeezed through a tight tube. They landed and he stumbled, feeling his stomach roll. "You okay?" he heard Hermione ask and he looked up at her.

"I think so," Harry said, examining his limbs – well, Zabini's limbs for the moment – and making sure they were all there. "Yeah, I'm alright." He paused and took a deep breath to let his stomach and heart calm down a bit. "Where'd you learn how to do that?"

"I may have spent a few nights practicing in the Shrieking Shack," Hermione answered with a determined expression, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with her out of the alleyway. "Greengrass can't be the only seasoned professional at breaking laws around here."

"Yeah… I suppose so." Harry nodded. "Bit mad, isn't it? All of this," he asked, reflecting on the past twenty-four hours. They kidnapped him, they kidnapped Malfoy, and now they were in the middle of instigating a full on psychological interrogation which likely went against laws on both the domestic and international level. Muggle laws as well, he imagined. He still had trouble processing it.

Hermione shrugged as they turned the corner down a street he didn't recognize. "It may be mad, but it makes sense. I can't blame them. With all the corruption going on everywhere, it's hard to know who to trust."

Biting the inside of his lip, Harry nodded reluctantly. He wasn't certain of Malfoy was worth all of the effort they were going through, but a large part of him was desperate to know what the Slytherin boy knew.

"Speaking of which," Hermione began, "do you really trust Daphne?"

His brow furrowed and he shrugged, briefly glancing at the ginger bloke who walked past them. There weren't too many people on the streets this early, but he had to remain alert. "I'm not sure…" he said. "She has her moments, I suppose."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Yeah. But, how much do you really know her?"

Did she honestly need to discuss this now?

Harry let out another long sigh. He and Daphne spoke quite extensively in the past few months, but how much did he know about her? The truth was both frightening and irritating. "Okay, I'll admit that I don't know her that much," he said, pulling his leather case out of his back pocket and plucking a fag from the confines.

"Then you can't trust her."

Lighting up with the lighter he borrowed from Zabini, he inhaled deeply, not really sure what to think. Actions spoke louder than words and Daphne sort of proved that she could be trusted to a certain extent… She was obviously not fighting for Voldemort. Didn't Hermione see that?

"Why do you think I can't trust her?"

"She's dangerous." Hermione pursed her lips. "She plays mind games and manipulates people… and she knows and uses very dangerous magic."

"Is this about the blood thing again?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows and taking a drag off his cigarette.

"There's that, and legilimency, the signature duplicating potion, triple layer glamours – everything in that blasted Magick Moste Evile book of hers. She's not a good person."

"Just because she's not exactly a good person doesn't mean we can't trust her," Harry said, flicking the ashes off his fag and following Hermione across the crosswalk. "Look at everything she's done. If anything, I think it'd be beneficial to have a few Slytherins like her on our side."

"Still doesn't make her any less dangerous," Hermione pointed out, pausing to read the street sign. "It's this way, come on."

.

They reached the storefront of a dusty decrepit shop where they met Daphne, who was standing in the doorway. "Took your bloody time," she mumbled, pushing the door open.

Hermione glared and Harry stubbed out his cigarette as they filed into the place. He gripped his wand underneath his jacket sleeve, just in case. The shop was filled to the brim with used random junk, a wall of used CDs and cassette tapes on offer, and various used electronics. It didn't seem like a particularly nice place, but he never got the impression that Daphne was leading them anywhere nice. Harry trailed after Daphne while Hermione went straight to browsing through the CDs, but he felt her eyes carefully glancing after him the whole way.

The weedy Muggle bloke behind the counter couldn't have been any older than eighteen. He looked up from his book as they approached. "Jesus, what the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"Heard you sell stereo equipment – thought you could help me out," Daphne said with a shrug, leaning against the counter. Harry's brows furrowed for a moment as he glanced between the two of them, but then he sobered into the stoic Zabini expression he practiced in the bathroom mirror before he left. He figured it would be best if he remained silent.

"Sure, what's your price point?" the bloke asked, pushing the blonde hair out of his eyes with his hand.

"Don't play that game with me – you'll give it to me for free," she retorted sharply. "But I'll pay for the scopolamine."

"You're joking." The man's eyebrows shot up and his eyes flicked to Harry for a moment, who kept his face blank. He didn't dare hazard a suspicious glance in Daphne's direction. "You do know what that does, yeah?"

A smirk crept over Daphne's lips. "I'm well aware."

"Alright then." The bloke's eyebrows rose even higher on his head. "How much of it do you want?"

"Half a gram. I'll come back if I need more – or anything else you're selling," Daphne said with a wave of her hand.

"Christ, you trying to take down a walrus?"

"Just some large vermin that I don't care for." Daphne stared at the man expectantly. "Do you have it or not? I can always go somewhere else."

"Yeah yeah, I'll go get that – you pick out a stereo or whatever it was you wanted."

"So I'm just going to take a wild guess that he's a drug dealer," Harry whispered when the man disappeared into the back room. "I thought we were only here to get the stereo for the whole sensory overload plan."

Shrugging, Daphne moved over to look at the stereos and electronics, playing with the dials. "Drug dealer or not, Rob's handy to have. Used to be my neighbour." She paused, glancing at him carefully and lowering her voice even further. "And the scopolamine'll be useful. In certain doses, it's a slightly hallucinogenic substance that could be considered the Muggle equivalent of a truth serum. Since we don't have a month to brew veritaserum and I don't know where I can steal some, this shall have to do."

"Got the music," Hermione interrupted, holding up a pile of CD's. "I hope Malfoy likes Swedish techno, death metal, and the Spice Girls."

Daphne snorted in amusement. "Bloody Spice Girls. Rob's getting everything in order for us."

"She's buying scopolamine," Harry translated and Hermione's eyes widened.

"That's why you dragged us to this god awful shop? Are you insane?"

Closely examining the speakers of the stereo system Daphne was perusing, she muttered, "Yes, well – as I was explaining to Harry – we don't have much time to procure veritaserum."

"Scopolamine is not at all like veritaserum!" Hermione countered, keeping her voice as low as possible. "Eventually, you may get some truth using it, but you'll get a lot of hallucinations out of it before that ever happens."

Harry's brows furrowed as a wry smile pulled at Daphne's lips and she glanced at Hermione out of the corner of her eye. "I'm counting on that."

"Why?" he asked.

"Never taken hallucinogenic drugs, have you?" Daphne asked rhetorically. Surreptitiously casting a featherweight charm onto the stereo system, she picked up a speaker and shoved it into Harry's arms. "There are good trips and there are bad trips – it all depends on the situation you're in." She carefully started to arrange the cords and wires at the back of the stereo, wrapping them around the large boxy device. "Bad situations equal bad trips and Draco's going to have one of the worst trips of his life. If I get the truth out of him, that's great, but I'm banking on that bad trip to at least scare the hell out of him."

"But you could kill him with it!"

"I'm surprised you even know what scopolamine is, Granger," Daphne said with a snort, bending her leg upwards and reaching into the side of her shoe to pull out a small wad of hundred pound notes.

Hermione sneered. "I'm hardly an idiot."

"Could've fooled me. You're idiotic enough to think that Theo's plan is going to work the way it is," Daphne retorted.

"It's based on protocols from the Sortilege Manual! If it works for the Ministry, it should work for us."

"Who says that those protocols actually work for the Ministry? They don't exactly publicize their success rate and since the Dark Lord isn't dead yet, I'm going to guess that it's not very-"

"Oi," Harry quietly interjected as he spotted Rob coming out of the back room out of the corner of his eye.

"That'll be three hundred pounds. Did you choose your – well, you're a bit of alright," Rob said, stopping short and eyeing Hermione with lewd interest.

A haughty expression washed over the stern lines of Hermiones face and she quickly grabbed Harry's free arm. "Sorry, taken." Pursing her lips, she looked over at the Slytherin girl while Harry tried his best to do the intimidating Zabini stare. He had half a mind to hate the idea that she was actually considering a relationship with the wanker and the other half was rather certain that Zabini drugged her somehow. "I hear Daphne's newly single though."

Bloody hell, Hermione. He lightly kicked the back of Hermione's foot in retaliation. He really didn't want to watch a stupid drug dealer go after Daphne. It was too fucking soon.

Surprisingly, Rob's nose scrunched up and he shook his head. "Nah, I don't fancy psychopaths."

"Always the charmer," Daphne commented dryly, passing him the money and slipping the sachet of drugs into her pocket.

"Only psychopaths use that type of stuff on people, sweetheart," Rob pointed out, nodding toward Daphne's pocket.

Harry glanced out of the corner of his eye at Daphne, his brow raised slightly.

"Who said I'm going to use it on a person?" she retorted, tucking a speaker under one arm and the stereo under the other. "It just so happens that it makes a fantastic rat poison."

"Expensive rat poison," Rob pointed out, skeptical.

"Call me thorough," Daphne quipped. "So, if you're done asking me things you really shouldn't… we'll just be going. It was nice seeing you, Rob."

As they walked out of the store, carrying the awkwardly bulky stereo system, Harry couldn't help but stare at Daphne suspiciously. He knew her expressions well enough now to know she was keeping something from them. The tightness around her eyes and lips betrayed her, even if she seemed relatively unassuming.

"You're hiding something else, aren't you?" he asked while they waited for the crosswalk signal to turn green.

Daphne raised an eyebrow toward him. "What gave you that idea?"

A smirk pulling at his lips, Harry replied, "Your evasiveness just now."

She let out a small breathy laugh. "You think that my evasiveness actually means something?"

"Not exactly." Harry shook his head and he could feel Hermione's eyes on him. "It's what you don't say that means something."

"Well, would it help if I told you that I'm always hiding something?" Daphne asked conversationally as the crosswalk signal turned green and they started across the road.

"No. But it would be a great help if you told me what you are hiding."

With a discreet glance in the direction of Hermione, Daphne's lips curled into a wry grin. "Not yet," she muttered to him as they headed down a dim alleyway, which was likely the apparation point they were going to be using.

"I'm starting to get tired of your personal agenda, Greengrass," Hermione interjected, crossing her arms over her chest. "Either tell us or shut it."

Daphne's eyes narrowed toward the bushy-haired Gryffindor. "If anything, I'm getting tired of people digging into my 'personal agenda', Granger."

They stopped by a pair of trashcans and Harry set the speaker down to massage where it dug into his arm. Even though it was extremely light, the corners still pressed into his arm from the way he had to carry it.

"This plan with Malfoy is never going to work if we don't work together," Hermione scoffed, shaking her head.

Daphne grinned, shrinking the stereo system down to pocket size with her wand. "You know, you were right about that up until the point where you said 'if'," she countered, carefully scooping the system up into her hand.

"What makes you so sure that the plan's going to fail?" Harry asked curiously, just as Hermione opened her mouth, a frustrated expression marring her features.

"Because it's not enough," Daphne explained, straightforward. "Doesn't matter how much you deprive him of sleep or deprive him of his senses or overload his senses or condition him… it won't get him scared enough to break in two weeks. He's a desperate entitled bastard."

Harry's brows furrowed and he bit the inside of his cheek. "You should've told Nott that."

Pursing her lips, Daphne shook her head. "No. Theo's stubborn and arrogant. He won't consider any elevation in tactics until he sees eminent failure – and he's in no mood to listen to me. He thinks I want to torture him, remember?"

"Or kill him," Hermione said, openly staring at the pocket where Daphne had stashed the sachet of scopolamine.

"Nah, killing him would be too quick," Daphne said in an oddly casual tone. She pulled Hermione's arm out of its crossed position and shoved the stereo system into her hand. "Now… I've another errand to run, so you two go ahead. I'll be along shortly."

"Let me go with you," Harry blurted out before he ever began to think it all the way through.

Daphne shook her head. "Don't be stupid. Your polyjuice will wear off before we can get back."

"I have more on me," he persisted, patting the vial held in the fur-lined pocket of Zabini's ridiculously expensive coat. He had an odd curious instinct that he should go with her and, if there was one thing that he always followed, it was his instincts.

Hermione grabbed at his arm. "Even then, Harry, it's not safe," she said, adding, "not with her – you don't know where she's going," under her breath.

Daphne's cold sardonic laugh signified that she heard that and she gazed at Harry in a way that made him think that she did not want him to come with her.

Pulling away from Hermione's claw-like grip, Harry moved toward Daphne. "Sorry, Hermione. I'm going."

"Great," Daphne said with a tight smile.

That was definitely a warning, but she wasn't running away from him.

Harry's eyes challenged her. "Great," he responded, with his own grin. Grasping tightly onto her arm, he readied himself for the unpleasant feeling of being squeezed half to death while Daphne narrowed her eyes at him. He had just finally registered Hermione's protests as Daphne reluctantly spun off and apparated them away.

oOo

Harry doubled over when they landed and he heard an ominous scraping click of metal on metal just as he caught his breath. Years of growing up in the Muggle world, furtively peeking glances at the telly, taught him exactly what that sound was and he looked up to find himself staring up the dark barrel of a revolver. His reflexes kicked into action and his wand was out in an instant, a curse just barely on the tip of his tongue.

Now he knew why Daphne wasn't too keen on him joining her.

"Jesus, Johnson, put that away," Daphne scoffed from beside him as she pulled Harry up to his feet. He barely noticed that he was half sprawled out on the tiled floor.

Johnson lowered his weapon, nodding toward Harry. "What are you doing with the Zabini kid?"

Clutching onto Harry's hand, Daphne explained, "He's helping me with Malfoy. No need to worry."

Harry tried to keep his expression neutral and as Zabini-like as possible to keep up with the facade. His wand was tucked up his sleeve, just in case. He knew that there was something off about Johnson when he met him at Slughorn's party and it felt slightly satisfying that he was right about that, but it was also slightly nerve-wracking. Daphne apparated them straight into Johnson's enormous, stainless steel and granite covered kitchen. The cabinet under the kitchen sink was open and Harry could see a gun holster bolted to the cabinet door, which was probably where the revolver came from. What kind of person kept a gun in their kitchen?

"If you're certain," Johnson drawled dubiously, setting the revolver down on the granite-topped island in the middle of the kitchen. He picked up his cup of coffee and leaned back against the island, surveying them with his dark eyes. "I was hoping you'd use the normal entrance this time."

"There were unforeseeable complications," Daphne said with a sigh. Then, she nodded toward Johnson's cup. "You have any more of that?"

"Help yourself."

Taking a proffered cup of coffee from Daphne, Harry busied himself with it, trying to furtively sneak questioning glances at her when he safely could. She seemed as if she had been to this place many times before based on how she knew her way around the kitchen.

"Everything you asked for is in the loading room, if you want to take inventory. Did you bring what I needed?" Johnson asked, raising an eyebrow toward Daphne. Harry stared at the exchange between them, concealing his interest. Zabini was incredibly talented at looking bored no matter the occasion and Harry was certain that he was failing, but it didn't keep him from trying.

Setting her cup of coffee onto the island, Daphne dug into her pockets, pulling out the sachet of scopolamine and a sparkling crystal half the size of her fist that shimmered and glowed in the light filtering in from the windows. "Half the scopolamine's mine," she said. "I didn't have time to divide it up before I got here."

"Now I understand why you wanted that many drips," Johnson commented.

With a nod, Daphne took a quick sip of her coffee. "He's also not drinking anything we give him, so I'm killing two birds with one stone. How much do you think he can have? He's probably about eighty kilos, give or take."

"It's always best to start small with it – I wouldn't add more than a tiny amount to the bag since you don't know his tolerance." Johnson picked up the bag of cream coloured powder, examining it carefully before setting it back down. "Wizards are often a bit strange when it comes to this stuff."

Daphne's brows rose. "How so?"

"It produces more hallucinations. I've since given up on it for magic-folk – you don't get as much control with them like you do with the Muggles," Johnson replied, as though he was discussing the weather as opposed to forcibly drugging people.

"I'll keep that in mind," Daphne muttered, pulling out her silver case and lighting up.

"What else are you going to do with him?" Johnson asked, moving across the kitchen to refill his cup of coffee.

"Personally? Nothing," Daphne said with a shrug, blowing out a puff of smoke. "Theo's always difficult to manage and I've been considered a torture risk."

"I can't imagine where he got that idea." Johnson's tone was steeped in sarcasm.

"Yeah, there's no joking about with Theo. But there are ways around him to include my involvement." She glanced over at Harry for a moment and his brows furrowed.

"Excellent. If you happen to get the location of the Malfoy's summer home, don't forget to share," Johnson replied with a wink, picking up the sachet of scopolamine and the gleaming stone with his free hand. "I'll go divide this up for you."

"Thanks," Daphne said offhandedly as Johnson disappeared through the door to the left of Harry. She busied herself with finding an ashtray in one of the many cupboards for a moment before turning toward him. "Sorry about him. He's a tad paranoid."

"That's putting it lightly." Harry pulled out his leather case and lit a fag with his borrowed lighter. "Why does he keep a gun under his sink?"

"He's a squib and he deals with dangerous people on a regular basis so he keeps a gun in every room." Daphne set the ashtray between them. "I can't say I blame him."

Harry inhaled deeply at his cigarette. "Right. So what's your plan to go around Nott that involves me?" he asked, changing the subject the more important matter at hand. He was pretty certain that was what she was hinting at a moment ago.

Daphne's brows rose and she hesitated, finishing off her second cup of coffee. "That's complicated. You really want to do this now?"

"Yes, if it involves me I want to know – complicated or not."

Daphne shrugged a shoulder. "Fair enough," she said, glancing at the clock on the far wall.

Harry's brows furrowed.

"Since Theo has shut me out of interrogating, I'm going to need you to interrogate and access Malfoy for me. Do you think you would be able to do that?"

Of all things, he wasn't really expecting that. Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I just started learning about this stuff less than a month ago. Nott wouldn't let me in there."

"I'm pretty sure he would let you in if you could knock some fear into Malfoy using your 'inside' Dark Lord knowledge."

"But I can't." Harry shook his head. "Voldemort doesn't… do much aside from torture and kill people and threaten to kill people. How could I realistically use those tactics to interrogate Malfoy? Nott wouldn't agree to them."

"You won't use those tactics though. It's just a way into the room with him. Then, once you're in the room, you use my tactics," Daphne explained with a grin.

Harry pursed his lips. "You mean drug him and… then what?"

"Well you don't have to worry about drugging him. Theo will go along with hooking Draco up to the IV drip because he's not drinking anything we give him. We can't allow him to be too dehydrated. The drugs will be in there. I just need you to break him a little so we can get the right effect when we introduce the drugs. Make him hopeless and afraid. The sleep deprivation and sensory manipulation should help with that. Then I think you'll be able to syphon the truth from him after we play around with his mind a bit, I believe… but that type of fear should get anyone to break."

"What makes you think I can do all that?" Harry asked skeptically.

"You've a lot of potential. You just need the right plan of attack, I think – from what I've seen, anyway," Daphne replied, stubbing her cigarette out in the ashtray.

Harry hesitated, part of him was excited and eager to agree but the other part was slightly terrified. "You're not going to give me a choice, are you?"

Considering her history and that bloody stubborn expression on her face…

"No – that's doubtful," Daphne said, scrunching up her nose and shaking her head. "Do you need more convincing?"

Harry shrugged, biting the inside of his lip. "I think I might be able to do it."

Daphne's brow rose. "You think?"

"Yeah," Harry muttered, nodding. "I think I can."

"Then, first thing's first," Daphne started as she moved toward him and twisted the handle of the door behind him, nearly pressing herself against him to open it, "you need to improve your lying ability."

Rolling his eyes, Harry retorted, "It's not that bad."

"Sure – but it's not very good either," Daphne said, skirting around him to go through the doorway. "Come on, help me carry the IV drips and I'll point out your weak spots."

Harry let out a drawn out sigh and followed her through the door. Between dealing with her and Nott, he had a feeling that it was going to be a bloody long two weeks.

oOo

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