InDreams wrote this chapter.
The first thing Draco noticed when he rose the following morning was that Theodore Nott was already in the kitchen eating breakfast. The next was that Sirius Black lingered by the entrance, arms folded and gaze fixed sternly on Theo.
Either unaware or simply ignoring him, Theo munched the crusts of his toast before flashing Molly Weasley a wide grin. "Thanks for breakfast."
Sinking into a seat across the table from Theo, Draco eyed his would-be friend as he poured a tall glass of orange juice. It was strange to consider that the Theo in this timeline was so involved with the Death Eaters, when his own friend hadn't been keen on it, even when Draco himself had been forced into servitude.
They were precarious waters, especially given the fact that Theo's assistance could be the key to Draco and Hermione being able to return to their own timeline and right things with the versions of them that were presumably stuck as well.
Idly, he wondered what their alternate versions made of the situation. At least they had been aware of the situation in advance.
Draco selected a slice of buttered rye and spread it with a generous portion of marmalade before his gaze drifted up to find Theo staring at him.
"So you're from another dimension." Theo clicked his tongue as he leaned back in his seat. "What's it like there?"
Draco took a bite of his toast and washed it down with a swig of juice. "The war ended years ago. You and I are close, along with Blaise." He hummed for a moment, picking his brain for something relevant that wouldn't reveal too much. "Our fathers are in Azkaban together."
"Blaise," Theo retorted with a snicker. "Haven't seen him since Hogwats."
Presumably the Blaise from this timeline possessed the same proclivity for conflict avoidance as his counterpart back home.
"Look, Theo," Draco said, dropping his voice as he leaned in. "The Order is willing to help you, but you're going to need to cooperate. Obviously they don't trust you, and with good reason. But if you help out with the problems we're having with our device, that good will can go a long way."
"And you want to get back home, of course," Theo drawled. "I can't lie, I miss the other Draco. He was far less… anxious."
A rebuttal withered and died on Draco's tongue. What had he been since landing in this timeline, but anxious? He merely frowned. "Wouldn't you be anxious in my shoes?"
"Touché." Theo flashed him a grin, tossing back the last of his juice. "Fine, Draco. I'll help you and the blasted Order if they can promise me protection. Hell, I'll even tell them what I know about Riddle. I've been ready to get out from under his thumb for a long time, and I must admit, I'm tired of this bloody war with Muggles. Gunshot wounds are no fun."
Draco blinked at the flippancy with which he'd announced such a thing, even as he recognised hints of his old friend in this version of Theo. He boasted the same wry irreverence, and it only made Draco homesick.
Again, he wondered what the situation would become, if he and Hermione managed to get home. When they managed to get home.
Finally he asked, "Won't Riddle know you've defected? What about the Mark?"
"What Mark?" Theo asked, his eyes narrowing.
Draco's gaze drifted to Theo's unblemished forearm and he felt a frisson of envy, considering the problems his own Dark Mark had caused him. He muttered, "Never mind," before selecting a few strips of crisp bacon from the spread in front of them, his stomach grumbling once more with hunger.
He ate the rest of his breakfast in silence, feeling the tension from Sirius' heavy stare by the door. He supposed even the Draco from this timeline wasn't fully trusted either; he hadn't joined the Order all that long ago.
At last, Theo broke the silence again. "I'm told your variation of the device Naylen has is in the lab here. Do you know anything about it?"
"No," Draco admitted. "In fact, I didn't even know what the device was until Hermione explained what happened to her in the woods. We thought the massive structure in the research tent at the compound was the device we were looking for."
Theo released a low snort. "No, that isn't what you were looking for—although they are related. The structure they guard so covetously at the camp is a sort of… overarching powerhouse. Right now Naylen has the only device because it's a prototype, but once they have more, the orb you found will control them all." His gaze landed on Draco's as he hesitated for a moment. "And it can supersede the commands dispatched to the handheld device."
Draco froze, uncertain whether he was breathing. They were speaking quietly enough that neither Sirius by the door, nor Molly preparing more breakfast for the stragglers slinking in, could hear them.
Under his breath, Draco mused, "So the orb can override the handheld device—or devices, if they make more?"
"Yes and no," Theo breathed, "but it isn't that simple. It's essentially a massive computer—a large technological brain. And as you saw, it isn't easy to get to. It requires passwords—several of them—and I don't know enough about how it functions. I'd been working on getting access to it for weeks but only the top level operatives have working knowledge of it. You'd need a skilled hacker to get in without the passwords. Furthermore, it's basically indestructible. Made of military-grade everything. Good luck accessing it."
Draco's mind spun with information as he finished the last of his breakfast, forsaken of his appetite in light of what Theo had shared. As soon as Hermione awoke, he would need to tell her, but he wasn't certain whether it would do anything to further their particular cause of getting home.
Figuring out the key to the orb could certainly affect the tides of the war, however, and it was presently in his best interest to help Theo.
"You're to help me with our device. Something about it obviously isn't working, since it didn't only detect magical signatures, it plucked them out from an entirely different dimension." Rubbing the back of his neck, Draco wondered how his other self had even managed such a thing.
As if thinking along the same lines, Theo snickered. "Leave it to you to make the bloody thing work so much more bizarrely than you intended."
Draco wasn't certain whether to take the words as a compliment or a criticism, but he chuckled at the thought. "Let's go—this is how you prove yourself to the Order."
Once the two of them were alone in the lab, Draco waited patiently while Theo observed the device that had been recovered from the wreckage of Hermione's building, tapping it with his wand and turning it over in his hands. Draco obviously hadn't seen Naylen's iteration, but Theo confirmed them to be similar.
Eventually Theo set it down on the workbench with a shrug. "I'm not going to know what's wrong with it just by looking at it."
Pushing off from the wall, Draco stalked closer, rolling his eyes. "Then what are you doing?"
"Killing time." Theo's lips twitched. "Here's the thing, Draco—I would need to compare the programming to this system with the other one, and the only way to do that is to use the supercomputer on the Collective's compound. Which we can't access."
Rubbing at bleary eyes, Draco released a long sigh. "So how are we supposed to figure out where it went wrong? And how do you even know about this stuff anyways?"
"Remember," Theo said, stepping away from the bench, "I've grown up in a world where Muggles and magic-kind have always been integrated. This war wasn't always raging, and our education probably contained more Muggle information than yours did if Muggles never knew about magic."
"So that's how you know about computers, and"—he waved a hand vaguely—"hacking."
"Yes. Technically, that's how your alternate self knew how to even build this thing. But obviously something went wrong."
Sinking into a stool at the bench, Draco stared hard at the device. "That's a bloody understatement, isn't it?"
Theo pulled up a stool alongside him, leaning back against the bench with his arms folded. "Do you want to know my Gryffindor plan to get you back home? It's a Gryffindor plan because it's daft—"
"Hey," a quiet, disgruntled voice intruded.
Draco jumped to his feet when he realised Hermione had joined them, looking small and a little worse for the wear, but standing. She was somewhat green so Draco offered his seat, dragging another one over from farther down. He tried to ignore the stuttering in his chest at seeing her up and about; they had important matters to discuss.
But she offered them each a smile. "Clearly I've missed something. What's your daft plan, Theo?"
Idly, Theo tapped a finger on the casing of the device. "If this thing malfunctioned to bring you here when you activated it, maybe it'll malfunction again and send you back."
Draco gaped at him for a moment before his eyes slid to find Granger's, who was frowning. "That isn't a good idea. Any number of things could go wrong, for one, and for another, if it does work, what's to say it would take us back to the same dimension we came from? For all we know, there are an infinite number of these timelines, all existing parallel to one another, and it was by complete chance that the device plucked us from ours." He hesitated for a moment, clicking his tongue. "Bloody awful luck, when you think of it that way."
Hermione snickered quietly at his side.
Theo only pointed a finger at him. "That's why it's the daft plan."
"It's a terrible plan," Hermione said, shaking her head. "What's the Slytherin plan?"
Quickly, Draco and Theo rehashed what Theo had shared about the object in the tent being a supercomputer capable of controlling, reprogramming, and overriding the weapons the Collective had been producing.
She stared between them, her eyes tight with consideration. "So, theoretically, could we use the computer to reprogram this device to work the way it was meant to? If we could just reverse the programming it should be able to make this device hide the magical signatures."
"Granger, this device could turn the tides of this war." Theo let that thought hang between them. "That's why the Collective is so keen on producing more of them. It's the best weapon they've got to combat magic and spellfire. Swords are bloody useless against wizards unless you catch them off guard, and most have learned to shield and deflect bullets. But a weapon that detects a magical being and hones in on them? That's powerful."
Draco dropped his head into his palms, propping his elbow on the bench. "Say we manage to find a way to access this supercomputer—can we deactivate the Collective's weapons?"
"We can deactivate them," Theo said, waving a flippant hand, "reprogram them, erase the coding. It would take a lot to destroy the computer altogether. Of course, we'd only be delaying the inevitable because if they've built it once, they'll be able to build it again. And if we disable their devices, they'll just turn them back on."
"But if we can get ours functional," Hermione said quietly, "we'll be able to reproduce them for the Order to use against Riddle. And we would only need to jam theirs long enough for us to get back out."
She held Draco's stare for a moment and he grimaced. "I don't think the Collective is just going to let us waltz in and use their computer to program our weapons. They'd sooner kill us all—they have no regard for witches and wizards, even if we're technically on the same side in the war against Riddle. In fact, it sounds like most of the Muggle-on-magic fighting is pointless if Riddle and his Death Eaters are the main problem here."
Hermione didn't look convinced, however, as she chewed her bottom lip in thought. "Theo, who would have access to the computer?"
Drumming his fingers on the counter, he murmured, "Naylen, Roger, maybe one other. I was working on it when I saw you lot and the plan changed."
"Roger?" Her head snapped up and Draco shifted in his seat, sensing her brain whirring. "Wasn't he one of the ones plotting against Naylen?"
"Yes," Theo snickered, "but I doubt he'll want to help you."
Draco released a long sigh, dropping his head over the back of his stool. "If there's one thing Granger and I learned through our war, Theo, it's that things aren't always pretty, but sometimes you have to do them anyways."
Theo froze, his gaze flitting between them. "What are you suggesting? We Imperius him?"
A jolt of unease settled in his stomach at the thought, bringing back bad memories of his sixth year. "Too unpredictable. What do you suppose the chances are the Order keeps a stock of Polyjuice around?"
Hermione sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes wide, and he could see the cogs spinning as she grasped his idea. "We would need to kidnap him."
Theo grimaced. "It wouldn't be a first for me."
"The problem with that," Draco went on, "is that Hermione and I don't know anything about the computer and hardly anything about the device, so we'll need Theo to come along. And there isn't a chance the Order will trust him to go alone. We'll need someone else from the Collective so it doesn't raise suspicion."
Hermione scoffed, leaning back in her seat. "You aren't leaving me behind."
"You were just shot," Draco deadpanned, "and I can only imagine Naylen will take any opportunity to take another try at you if something goes wrong."
"And if something does go wrong, he'll shoot you both!"
He met her stare, finding worry in the depths of her eyes. For an instant, he longed to take her into his arms, to feel the warmth of her lips, but it was neither the time nor the place, and he didn't know how much Theo had guessed about their facade at the camp.
For everything Theo had shared, Draco still wasn't entirely convinced Theo didn't still harbour his own motives. Which was the other reason he wouldn't trust the man to go back into the Collective's camp alone.
Draco swept a hand through his hair. "We'll have to run this all by the Order anyway, and it'll probably take a few days to get everything coordinated. If you get clearance to come from Healer Patil, we won't be able to prevent you from coming. But then it means we'll possibly be kidnapping and impersonating three people from the Collective who we won't know well enough to mimic adequately. So we will need to move quickly."
"Not to mention we'll need to get Roger to talk," Theo drawled idly, "because we don't have the codes to access the computer."
"So," Hermione breathed after a long pause, "a dangerous plan, wherein we don't know exactly what we're up against, and a whole host of things could possibly go wrong and lead to our demise."
Draco snickered. "Right up your alley."
A slow smile spread across her face.
Potter stared blankly between the three of them amongst a large group of Order members spread around the room after they'd shared their idea. "You want to…" Potter shook his head, dragging a hand through his messy hair, "infiltrate the Collective—again?"
Almost unable to believe it himself, Draco nodded. "It's the only way we can fix our device and potentially produce more of them."
Sirius Black strode forward, a frown on his face, and dropped into the seat beside Potter. "This is nuts. You're going to get yourselves killed, and expose us to the Collective. Those devices are no joke, and if they come at us with an army—"
"Sirius." Harry held up a hand as he released a sigh. "There is some merit to the idea. And we've already prioritised a lot to get our device functional."
Sirius folded his arms, fixing Draco with a tight stare. "So why don't you just blow up the Muggles' computer if it's the source of their power?"
"Why wouldn't we use it to our own benefit?" Draco scowled at his cousin for a moment. "The Muggles can rebuild it, but we don't have the technical knowledge."
Potter, however, had his gaze fixed on Hermione, seated at Draco's side. Quietly, he asked, "Hermione? What do you think of all this? Aren't you and Malfoy trying to get home?"
She folded her arms, worrying her lip. As the day wore on, she had looked more and more fatigued, and Draco suspected she would be ready to sleep as soon as the meeting was through.
"I think," she said with a sigh, "Draco and I have resigned ourselves to the idea that the only way home is to push through. But… I can't help but wonder whether we'll be able to use this computer to reprogram our device to send us back home. Then the Draco and Hermione from your timeline—the ones who actually know about all this—could come back and help you fight this war."
Despite the room full of people, Draco reached over, his fingers nudging against hers for support where they sat on her lap. Her fingertips drifted idly across the back of his knuckles in response.
Potter swept a hand through his hair again, though Draco noticed his eyes flicker towards their hands. "We'll have to deliberate this. We can't go ahead with significant plans without proper consideration and a vote."
"Fine." Draco glanced at Theo, who had remained curiously silent throughout. "Let us know once you've decided because it will take some time to set things in motion." He caught Hermione's stare again, seeing the exhaustion in her face, and gave her fingers a brief squeeze. "Perhaps it's time for Hermione to get some sleep."
"Right," Potter said distractedly as he ducked towards Sirius, speaking under his breath, before offering a quick, "Thanks Malfoy."
As the rest of the room dispersed, Hermione turned towards him with a grateful smile. "I'm quite tired."
"I know." His lips twitched with a smirk as he offered a hand to help her from her seat. "Are you going back to the infirmary?"
She shook her head, eyes flitting to his. "No, Padma said I can sleep in my own room now as long as I report back to her in the morning."
"Good." Draco assisted her from the room with a hand on the small of her back, taking hold of her arm as her eyes fluttered and she nearly stumbled on a step. Carefully, he led her towards the room she'd been assigned, and when she ventured in without saying anything, he followed.
"Thanks," she breathed, her voice a little weak from the exertion. She gave a soft chuckle. "I guess I'm still not quite feeling back to normal yet."
"That's alright," Draco returned quietly, his heart clenching to see her still in pain. "The Healer said it would take a few days."
She glanced at him for a long moment before dropping her gaze, and her cheeks bloomed with a dull flush. "Good night, then."
Draco clenched his jaw. "Granger, are you alright?" She offered a false nod, shifting her weight onto her good leg. He stepped forward, helping her to sit on the bed. "You aren't."
"I only wondered," she began, staring at the quilt, "whether you might like to join me. It's just felt… odd, since we've been back here."
It had felt odd, but Draco was surprised to hear the admission fall so freely from her lips. He'd grown accustomed to having her beside him, even though they'd only been at the Collective for a week. He had come to rely on her presence falling asleep, and though he'd passed out quickly out of pure exhaustion after they arrived back, he found himself grateful for the offer.
His mouth felt dry, heart pounding in his chest as he nodded. "Yes. I'll join you."
Hermione offered a timid smile, shifting out of her loose trousers with a bit of a grimace when the fabric grazed her wounded leg. Draco moved to help but she tugged them the rest of the way off before swinging her legs beneath the covers.
Like they had in the tent, he stripped to his shorts before climbing in alongside her, wondering all the while what it meant for the fake story they'd presented.
But when she slipped back towards him, stifling a wide yawn with her hand, Draco wrapped an arm around her middle and drew her against his chest.
With a murmured, "Good night, Granger," he pressed a hesitant kiss to the curve of her jaw, relieved when she only sunk further into his hold with a sigh.
He would have a lot to sort through, emotionally, once they returned home—especially if anything he thought he was feeling was only one-sided and circumstantial—but for now, he was content to simply exist. Within minutes, the soft rhythm of her breathing lulled him to sleep.
Draco stirred awake at the feel of Hermione shifting in his arms, not yet ready to get out of bed. It was nice, even if momentarily, to forget the situation they were stuck in.
Even though he didn't know her thoughts on the rest of it, and he didn't intend to spook her off, Draco couldn't help but feel as though they'd been growing closer in a way that he wouldn't mind pursuing once they returned home.
Despite the fact that they were from two completely opposite worlds. And it might not even be what she wanted.
But the sparkle in her eyes as they slid open to meet his spurred a jolt in his chest.
"Good morning," she whispered as she stretched her arms out but made no move to extricate herself from his embrace.
"Morning." Draco sank a little deeper into his pillow. "How are you feeling?"
Dragging her bottom lip between her teeth—Draco found his eyes drawn to the movement—she considered the question for a moment before nodding. "I feel alright. I slept well."
Draco couldn't help but preen for a moment at the thought that she'd been able to sleep better with him, but the comparison was also to a small hospital bed. Quickly, the thought withered away.
"Good," he murmured, brushing his lips against her temple as she tucked into his hold.
They were silent for a moment and Draco felt his eyelids flutter shut once more, seeking a few moments of solace before another assuredly busy day. Until her voice, muffled against his chest, asked, "Draco?" He hummed, hoping she wasn't going to ask him to get up. Uncertain, her voice sounded again. "What is this?"
"This?" he echoed, shifting so he could meet her stare.
She nodded, with a quiet, "Yes."
Draco swallowed, glancing away momentarily. "I don't know. Obviously we don't need to act anymore, but…"
"If we can figure out how to make the device work," she said, "we'll be going back home."
Although he thought it was a rather large if, given their plan wasn't without its faults or risks, he nodded. "Right. I guess it's one thing here." He paused, uncertain how much he wanted to share when he didn't even know what she wanted.
"Back home no one will understand," she whispered, solidifying his fears. Indecision haunted her stare before she swallowed thickly. "But I don't know if I care—if you don't."
Draco's heart stuttered in his chest. He managed a gruff, "I don't care," before capturing her lips with his. Instantly she responded, sinking into his hold, her lips parting for him as he deepened the kiss as his fingers grazed the curve of her jaw.
When they parted, she rested her forehead against his, her breathing quick. "Okay," she whispered, gracing him with a warm smile. "I guess now we just need to find our way back."
Despite the situation, hope bloomed within him at the warmth in her stare. He had always been a realist, but something about knowing she was on his side was cause for cautious optimism.
The idea that she was interested in something with him once they'd returned back to their own world only solidified his drive to figure out a way home. Planting another kiss to her lips, he smiled. "I suppose we ought to get on that, then."
Once again, Theo was already awake by the time Draco ventured into the kitchen, although this time Hermione was at his side, having checked in with Healer Patil first thing upon waking.
But to Draco's surprise, Theo was seated with Potter, whose brows were raised with scepticism. When Draco and Hermione walked in, they both seemed to deflate from the tension that hung in the room.
"Good," Potter said gruffly, "you're both here. I'll need you to corroborate with Nott's story that he was close with one of the high-level operatives at the Collective."
"Roger," Theo supplied.
Potter scowled, dragging a hand through his hair. "Nott claims he can get the information we need."
Draco glanced between Theo and Hermione before offering a shrug. "We don't know how to access the Collective's computer. Roger can give us that information—whether willing or unwilling—and we're going to need his hair for the Polyjuice so we'll need to detain him regardless."
Potter still didn't look convinced. "You said yesterday you'll need three doses of Polyjuice."
"You're not sending Nott in alone," Draco said, holding up a finger, then another, "I can't figure it out without any technical knowledge, and as long as Hermione's medically cleared, she'll be coming as well." He lifted the third.
Even though the thought of her getting injured again, so soon after he'd nearly lost her, embedded an anxious twist into Draco's stomach, he knew better than to ask her to stay behind from such an important mission. Especially when she had more reason than any of them to want to seek revenge on Naylen.
She offered him a soft, grateful smile at his inclusion.
"Should we have the Order on standby for an attack?" Potter sank into his seat. "I realise it's a stealth mission, but if something goes wrong we won't be able to mobilise quick enough unless we're already prepared."
"It can't hurt," Hermione contributed. "There are a lot of things that could possibly go awry."
"Fine." Potter shook his head. "Nott—reach out to your contact. But Malfoy, you're in charge of making sure this doesn't go poorly."
Draco couldn't blame him, given the many glaring unknowns in their plan, but he appreciated that Potter was willing to move forward. Maybe they had fostered some trust with the Order on their last mission after all.
"The issue with Roger," Draco went on at last, "is that Naylen will have told him we're wizards, and likely the whole story about how we left. I can't imagine he'll want to meet with any of us willingly."
Theo cracked a thin grimace. "I've got enough dirt on the man to bury him. Leave that to me."
Despite everyone's reservations, and Draco had plenty of his own, Theo proceeded with his plan to reach out to Roger. Potter had given him a Protean-charmed galleon—evidently something the Hermione from their time had come up with to communicate—and he was to use it to contact the Order if something went wrong.
Since they had no way of communicating with Roger specifically, the only way to track him down was to trust Theo's knowledge of the Collective's patrol routes—and to hope they hadn't been altered in the handful of days since the three of them had left.
Hermione had been forced to stay back at Headquarters for some tests with Healer Patil, but it was for the best that they didn't have too many involved in the operation. Privately, Draco hadn't wanted to voice the thought of what would happen if Roger was unwilling to talk, and he didn't want her to bear witness.
So he found himself on the perimeter of the forest within which the Collective kept their base, several Order operatives lingering a short distance away if they needed backup.
Draco felt anxious after ten minutes passed without any signs of movement, and he'd begun to feel like a sitting duck when rustling came from the bushes just beyond. Theo's gaze flickered to meet his as the man silently drew his wand. Swallowing, Draco followed suit.
But his shoulders dropped when Roger came into view, and by the time the man had taken three steps, Theo was behind him, his wand jammed into the flesh below the man's jaw.
Eyes tightening, Draco scanned the woods around them, sufficiently pleased that Roger had been alone. He strode forward and relieved Roger of his sidearm before Summoning the three remaining knives.
Roger's lip merely curled with revulsion, his eyes narrowed.
"We've going to give you a chance," Theo said lowly, adjusting his hold on the man. "You're going to answer some questions, and if you do as we ask, you're going to walk away alive. Deal?"
Although Roger's stare could have burned Draco alive where he stood, the man grunted, "Deal."
Theo's gaze lifted to meet Draco's, and with a stiff nod, the man Disapparated with his prisoner. Casting one last surreptitious stare around, Draco followed to the warehouse where Theo had taken him and Hermione upon escaping the forest the first time.
When he landed, he tapped a quick message into his coin before striding forward to where Theo had already bound and immobilised Roger. His stomach churned at the sight, but if Roger was cooperative there would be no need for anything further.
Roger spat on the floor, angry gaze darting between them. "I should have known."
"Probably." Theo's lips twitched as he cast Draco a glance. "But it's neither here nor there. We need your access codes for the Collective's supercomputer. And before you say anything, know this—" he took a step closer, crouching down to meet Roger's gaze "—we have ways of drawing the information out of your brain but it isn't, strictly, comfortable."
Some of the determination on Roger's face faltered as he considered his options. Draco knew he had already been scheming against Naylen, so clearly the man possessed no loyalty and few scruples. But by capitulating to them, he would be actively turning against his kind. Draco felt a twinge of sympathy, having had no interest in these sorts of manipulations even when he had been a Death Eater. And that had been years ago.
"So you know," Draco added, "it wasn't our intention to harm anyone from the Collective. Our war is with Tom Riddle and his Death Eaters, the same as you. Not all wizards and witches want to hurt Muggles. Most just want the war to end."
He wasn't entirely certain if he had the situation in this timeline right, remembering the rampant and chaotic fighting in the streets when he and Hermione had originally landed here, but he could only imagine most didn't want to continue fighting.
Indecision flickered across Roger's face. "If you don't want to hurt us what do you want with the computer?"
Theo's stare landed on him but Draco shook his head. "We aren't telling you that."
He could see the tension in the man's shoulders and throat, even as Theo's spell kept him from moving.
At last, Theo rolled his wand between his fingers. "You don't really have a choice here, Roger. I don't want to hurt you."
Some of the fight sunk from Roger and he grunted, "Fine, then. Get me a pen and paper."
A grin spread across Theo's face as he conjured the requested materials. Once Roger had written the codes, Theo tucked the paper into his pocket. Draco darted forward, snatching a few hairs from Roger's head and tucking them into a small glass vial. When Roger scowled at him, he only shrugged, unwilling to divulge anything more than necessary.
They couldn't trust Roger not to return to the Collective while they moved forward with the plan, thereby blowing their cover, so while they released the spells holding him in place, they were careful to seal and ward the warehouse so the man couldn't escape.
Draco rummaged in his bag, drawing out some food and water to sustain Roger until they could return, and placed it on an old wooden table nearby.
Then, satisfied, they Apparated back to Headquarters.
The original plan of Polyjuicing and impersonating three members of the Collective had been too risky, and when Theo brought up the thought of coordinating with Roger's friend inside—the one who had been working with the pair of them to plot against Naylen—a different plan had evolved.
Theo had known Roger well enough to copy his mannerisms, and Draco had snuck into London and recovered hairs from two random Muggles for him and Hermione.
Since Roger was in charge of recruiting new members to the Collective, it worked out in their favour, and Draco and Hermione were, once again, acting as new recruits. Only this time, their goal was to get in and out as quickly as possible.
And they would need to rely on the existing goodwill between Roger and the other man, Wilson.
Each of them carried a small additional stash of Polyjuice in case the time spent at the Collective's camp went longer than an hour, and after ensuring they had everything else they would need, they were set to go.
Draco had never consumed Polyjuice potion before, and it tasted as foul as it looked, but Hermione was evidently no stranger to the experience. They would be bringing their wands in, which would be a risk in itself if Naylen was actively utilising his tracking device, but as soon as they could get into the computer, they'd be able to shut it down.
And they also had Roger's weapons if need should arise, along with a few others, strategically hidden.
If everything went according to plan, there would be no reason for anyone to discover their presence inside the Collective—until it was too late.
Hermione had their device, which they would need to reprogram. It was strange, feeling his own skin twist and bubble, and watching as she shifted into a small blonde woman. He'd grown a dark beard, the Muggle body which he was to inhabit decidedly sturdier than his own, and it felt cumbersome to move around.
Glancing towards Theo-turned-Roger, Draco nodded.
Potter surveyed the three of them with a grimace. "We'll be prepared just beyond the border of the Collective's camp. If anything goes wrong, send word on your coins and we'll be there as soon as possible."
"Thanks, Potter." Draco clapped the man on the shoulder. "Wish us luck." Stowing his wand holster safely inside the thigh of his jeans, Draco exchanged one last look with Hermione and Theo.
Then the three of them Apparated back to the Collective.
Draco was glad they'd brought extra Polyjuice Potion, because it took them nearly fifteen minutes of skirting around the forest edges to locate Wilson. Furthermore, he was glad they'd brought Theo. His former friend's inside knowledge of the defectors inside the Collective's camp had proven invaluable in gaining Wilson's trust, who had no reason to suspect Theo wasn't actually Roger.
When Theo had cast an overtly suspicious glance around, before inferring that his new recruits were there to help them bring down Naylen, Wilson had jumped to the requested task of distraction and disarming.
It would be vital that Naylen wouldn't have use of his device until they were able to shut down the software, and they needed to be sure their presence in the tent wasn't questioned.
Forced to rely on Wilson's efficiency, they'd lingered in the forest for an additional ten minutes before approaching the tent; whatever the man had done had worked, because the tent was empty.
"Thank Merlin," Theo muttered, drawing the slip of paper from his pocket that bore the access codes. Without any hesitation, he set to work at the computer, and Draco and Hermione lingered near the entrance in case someone did walk in.
They were, once more, left to hope that Theo knew what he was talking about. Tension lingered between Draco and Hermione as they waited in silence, and he could feel the agitated rhythm of his own heart. A few times he walked over to where Theo was working, but none of the information on the screen made any sense whatsoever; he could only hope Theo understood it.
At last, Theo let out a sigh, dragging a hand through his hair. "It looks like Naylen has eight devices."
"Eight!" Draco choked, dashing over with Hermione on his heels. On the screen before Theo were eight lines, each one containing a series of numbers with a flashing green ACTIVE at the end. He swallowed a lump in his throat. "Active?"
A slow, cheshire grin spread across Theo's face, and with the sharp snap of his fingertip on a key, the flashing green letters vanished. "Not anymore."
"Good." Hermione curled her fingers around Draco's as she peered closer. "Are you able to determine how they've programmed theirs?"
"I think so." Theo hit several other buttons; none of it made any sense to Draco and he was grateful that the Theo from this dimension knew how to operate computers. "Hand me the device."
As Hermione fumbled in her bag to find the device, Draco drew his wand, creeping closer towards the door. Without the devices active, Naylen and the rest of the people carrying them wouldn't be able to detect if they were using magic, but they could still be discovered and killed by other Muggle means if they weren't careful.
"We need to be quick," he said in a hushed voice as he returned to the centre of the tent. "We don't know how much time Wilson has bought us."
Theo fixed him with a hard stare and Draco frowned.
"I can copy the Collective's software to your device. The problem is," Theo said, brandishing the device, "whatever the other Draco programmed onto this—including the means by which he plucked the pair of you out of your peaceful existences—will be overwritten."
Hermione met Draco's stare, worrying her bottom lip as her eyes flickered towards the entrance. "Can you tell how it's been programmed, or what went wrong in the first place?"
"I can try," Theo said, dragging a hand through his hair, "but it's complicated and could take a while. I'm not an expert with computers."
"A while is time we don't have," Draco drawled.
Theo tapped the glass screen with a fingernail. "Eventually one of them is going to realise the devices aren't working and this is the first place they'll come. At which point—active or not—we're in trouble because bullets can still kill us just fine."
Hermione sighed, sinking into a seat beside Theo. "What if we tried speaking with Naylen?" When Draco rose a brow, prepared to rebuke the idea, she held up a hand. "I know—he tried to kill me. But what if we explained that we're only trying to take down Riddle?"
"Good luck," Theo muttered with a low snort. "No one here is interested in speaking with wizards or witches, and if you're hoping to make a deal, they'd sooner shoot first and ask questions later."
As she deflated in her seat, Draco felt a twinge of sympathy. The people of this world were involved in an utter mess, and so much of it was wrapped around miscommunications. He wondered how everything had devolved to this point if the wizarding and Muggle worlds had been at peace not so long ago.
"You need to make a decision." Theo brandished the device, drawing them back to the matter at hand.
"If we overwrite the programming," Draco said slowly, "we won't be able to use it to get back home. Is that what you're saying?"
Clicking his tongue for a moment, Theo measured his words. "That is my understanding of it, yes. But again, I didn't program this, you did."
In so many of Draco's past experiences, when faced with a tough decision, he'd taken the easy route. If it were up to him, he would want only to get back home.
But he wasn't the only one involved, and his eyes desperately sought Hermione's. He wished her eyes looked like her own, but instead a stranger stared back at him. Gruffly he bit out, "You choose."
She shook her head, slow and forlorn. "This device was important to the other Draco and Hermione. I don't think we can leave them to fight this war without it if we have a chance to finish the work they started."
"They won't be able to fight this war if they don't come back." Draco felt his heart rate escalate at the thought they might lose their only way home. He ground his teeth together. "I don't want to get stuck here."
"Neither do I," she whispered, casting a sidelong glance at Theo. "No offence but this isn't our home and it isn't our war."
With a snicker, Theo drawled, "None taken. If I had a chance to get out of here I'd take it too."
"Can we steal another one?" Draco asked after a moment. "From one of the Muggles here at the Collective—then we can return with both?"
"Sure." Theo leaned back in his seat. "Good luck managing that without drawing attention to yourself. Besides, we don't even know who has one other than Naylen. Roger didn't."
"Wilson?" Hermione asked, the word sharp as it filled the tense air between them.
Clicking his tongue for several moments, Theo squinted at the screen. "Wilson might. But we have no idea where he is and with these devices inactive, we're on borrowed time."
Draco sought Hermione's stare, feeling fear mount within him. Though he desperately wanted to retain the programming that could be tweaked to get them home, it was their only chance to weaponise the device by mimicking the Collective's software. He pressed his eyes shut, knowing what Hermione would do.
"We need to switch it," he breathed. "Hermione and I will have to figure something else out, but if this is the Order's only chance to get this thing functional—and use it to create more—we need to take it."
Although Theo raised his brows, Hermione beamed at him. Despite the furious clamouring of his heart, Draco knew it was the right call.
Hermione's fingers slipped between his, giving his hand a squeeze and bolstering his spirit slightly. If nothing else, at least they were still in the situation together. And she was the smartest person he knew—if anyone could figure something out, it was her.
"Your call," Theo clipped, though he nodded. With a few clacks of his fingers on the keyboard, he announced, "It's transferring."
Draco clamped his jaw shut to refrain from taking back his decision, tension once more taking over the tent as the three of them waited. Draco's wand felt uncertain in his palm, eyes flickering to the entrance every few seconds.
With a breath of relief, Theo flashed a grin and handed the device back to Hermione, who stowed it into her bag. "It's done—now let's get the hell out of here."
"Not a moment too soon," Draco breathed, as he heard shouts from outside of the tent. "It sounds like we've been discovered." He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat upon realising that Hermione's hair was darkening, the potion beginning to wear off.
"We need to get out of here." Theo hastily tapped a few more keys with one hand as he rose to his feet, grappling for his wand.
The shouting grew louder and Draco froze as gunshots echoed through the air. Screams sounded in the distance, too far out to be nearby.
"Is that—" Hermione gasped, her eyes widening; her hair had begun to curl, "—wandfire?"
"Shit!" Theo exclaimed, looking almost entirely like himself again. "It is. What the fuck is going on out there?"
Indecision tore deep inside of Draco; if the Collective was under attack by wizards, they had just deactivated their most efficient and deadly means of defending themselves.
The entrance to the tent flew open, several people running in, and purely on instinct, Draco lifted his wand towards the newcomers. His eyes narrowed upon seeing Naylen at the front, his jaw dropping, a useless tracking device in his hand.
Mutely, the three Muggles in the entrance grappled for weapons.
"Don't," Draco hissed, his wand hand steady, "even think about it."
On either side of him, Hermione and Theo brandished their wands.
"What are you doing?" Naylen snapped, striding a step forward. As if realising the direness of the situation, he held his hands up belatedly, letting his device drop to the floor. "How did you get in here?"
Theo scowled, even as Draco could see his expression faltering with hesitation. He had spent months living with these people. "What's going on outside?"
"Our blasted devices—" Naylen cut himself off, his jaw going hard. "You've deactivated them. We're under attack and if you don't get out of the way I swear to God—"
"Death Eaters," Hermione whispered, the words hanging between the standoff in the tent.
Naylen nodded once, harshly. "I don't know how they found us, but—"
Operating out of nothing but instinct, Draco lowered his wand. "We aren't your enemy, Naylen—but they are. The Death Eaters are our common enemy."
More scattered gunfire sounded from the forest around, shouts and screams splitting the air.
Scowling, Naylen nodded towards their wands. "I ought to shoot all three of you right now. But if you're telling the truth, and you aren't with the Death Eaters—if any of you wizards are still decent—now's your chance to prove it."