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Tuesday - 7:30 AM
Darius woke to his alarm with the groggy feeling of insufficient sleep, but his mind immediately went to the test camera. "Nano, status report?"
[CAM-TEST-01 operational throughout night. Total observation time: 4 hours 43 minutes. Subjects observed: Zero. Magical detection attempts: Zero. Physical disturbance: Zero. Concealment assessment: Perfect. Device remains completely undetected. Recommendation: Proceed with primary deployment as planned.]
Relief and anticipation flooded through him as he rose and dressed for the day. His roommates were in their usual morning chaos—Terry searching frantically for his Astronomy homework, Michael complaining about the upcoming Herbology quiz, Anthony calmly organizing his notes for class.
"You look better than yesterday," Stephen observed as Darius gathered his books. "Actually slept last night?"
"Like the dead," Darius said truthfully. He had slept—just not for very long, and not until almost four in the morning.
[Social performance: Adequate. Partner maintaining normal behavior patterns. Recommend standard Tuesday schedule through lunch. Primary deployment window: 12:35-1:10 PM during Quirrell's predictable lunch period. Office will be vacant. Minimal traffic in third floor corridor at that time.]
Breakfast passed normally. Darius ate with Emma, Sarah, and a rotating cast of Ravenclaws, participating in conversations about the upcoming Quidditch match, speculation about what Halloween would bring, and complaints about Professor Binns's impossibly boring History of Magic lectures.
At the High Table, Professor Quirrell picked at his breakfast with characteristic nervous energy. But Darius noted the same subtle satisfaction from yesterday—a man pleased with recent progress, however well he concealed it beneath his stuttering facade.
Soon, Darius thought. Soon we'll see what you're really doing.
[Patience recommended. Deployment proceeding on schedule. By Wednesday morning, Partner will have complete surveillance of primary target. Strategic advantage: Significant. Current objective: Maintain low cover until deployment.]
The morning classes—Transfiguration and Charms—passed with agonizing slowness. Darius participated normally, demonstrated appropriate skill, took careful notes. But his mind kept drifting to the camera in his bag.
Finally, the morning session ended and students flooded toward the Great Hall for lunch.
[Tuesday - 12:32 PM]
"I need to grab a book from the library," Darius told Emma and Sarah as the lunch crowd settled. "I'll catch up with you."
"You and your books," Emma said fondly. "Save me a seat if I finish first."
Darius nodded and slipped away, moving against the flow of students heading toward food. The third floor corridor was predictably empty during lunch—everyone went to the Great Hall, teachers included.
[Confirming: Subject Quirrell observed entering Great Hall 12:28 PM. Staff table occupied with multiple faculty. Filch location: Ground floor, western wing. Mrs. Norris: Last observed in dungeons. Corridor traffic: Zero. Window of opportunity: Optimal.]
Quirrell's office was at the end of a side corridor on the third floor—away from the main traffic patterns, offering privacy for a professor whose subject often dealt with dangerous topics. The door was closed but not warded; Quirrell clearly didn't expect anyone to attempt entry during his absence.
Darius cast a quick detection charm, verifying no alarm enchantments. Nothing. Either Quirrell was confident in physical security, or he had nothing in his office worth protecting.
Or he's protecting the real secrets elsewhere, Darius thought grimly.
"Alohomora," he whispered, his wandless magic flowing smoothly into the lock mechanism. The door clicked open.
The office interior was exactly what you'd expect from a nervous, ineffectual Defense professor—cluttered desk covered in half-marked essays, bookshelves lined with standard Defense texts, a faint smell of garlic that made Darius want to sneeze. Nothing obviously suspicious, nothing that screamed "Dark Lord possession."
Which was precisely the point.
[Office layout: Single entry point, four walls, one window overlooking courtyard. Optimal camera placement: Upper corner opposite door. Provides full room coverage including desk, seating area, and door. Height ensures concealment from casual observation.]
Darius moved quickly but carefully, scanning for the perfect position. The upper corner that Nano identified was ideal—a shadowed space where wall met ceiling, just beside a wall sconce that would provide the illusion of natural shadow. He levitated himself up, carefully positioning the second surveillance unit in the corner with a light Sticking Charm.
"Verify feed."
[Establishing connection to CAM-QUIRRELL-OFFICE... Signal acquired. Video stream: Active. Full room coverage confirmed. Desk visible, door visible, seating area visible. Image quality: Excellent. Deployment: Successful.]
Darius descended, casting one last look around the office to verify nothing appeared disturbed. Everything exactly as he'd found it. No trace of his presence except the invisible camera now watching Quirrell's office.
He exited quickly, relocking the door with wandless magic, and moved back toward the main corridor. The entire operation had taken less than four minutes.
[Office surveillance: Active. This unit now monitoring Subject Quirrell's private workspace. Any activity when alone will be recorded and analyzed. Estimated deployment success: High. Recommend: Quarters placement tonight to complete primary coverage.]
Darius allowed himself a small smile as he headed toward the Great Hall. One camera testing successfully in the library. One camera now active in Quirrell's office. Tonight, the final two units would go into the professor's quarters and near the third floor corridor.
By Wednesday morning, he would have eyes on everything Quirrell did in private.
"Just in time," Emma said as Darius slid into his seat at the Ravenclaw table. "You took forever. Find your book?"
"Eventually," Darius said, loading his plate with shepherd's pie. "The library's organizational system isn't always intuitive."
Across the Hall, Professor Quirrell rose from the High Table, apparently finished with his meal. But Darius noticed how his eyes swept the room with a calculation that didn't match his performance.
Tuesday Afternoon – 1:02 PM
Harry dropped his books onto the table beside Ron with a groan.
"I swear," he muttered, rubbing his temples, "if I have to sit through one more History of Magic lecture, I'm going to start sleepwalking just to escape."
Ron slumped forward, face mashed into the wood. "I nearly did escape," he mumbled. "Hermione elbowed me awake so hard I thought my ribs cracked."
Harry snorted. "Snape wasn't any better."
Ron lifted his head, eyes narrowing as if Snape had personally insulted his existence. "He gave me a zero before I even opened my cauldron. I asked why and he said, 'Because I can.' Who says that?"
Harry laughed. "Snape."
"Exactly! That's why he's evil." Ron flopped back against his chair. "Why can't we have a normal teacher? One who teaches instead of glaring like we stole his cat?"
"You hate cats," Harry pointed out.
"That's not the point."
A moment passed, only the hum of lunchtime chatter filling the gaps.
Then Ron perked up. "Oi, how's Quidditch training going? You've been disappearing like you're planning a secret mission."
Harry grinned despite himself. "It's fun, honestly. But Wood…" He rolled his eyes. "Wood trains like he thinks someone's filming a motivational sports film. Yesterday he made me fly sprint laps until my arms felt like they were going to fall off. He kept shouting, 'AGAIN, POTTER!' like some drill instructor."
Ron blinked. "What's a drill instructor?"
"Kind of like my school's P.E. teacher," Harry said.
Ron's brows knitted together. "What's P.E.?"
"Physical Education. You run, stretch, throw balls at people in the name of 'fitness'… basically torture but supervised."
Ron looked horrified. "You did that as a class?"
"Every week."
"That's worse than Snape's homework." He shuddered. "No wonder you're good at dodging Bludgers."
Harry grinned. (╯✧▽✧)╯
Before Ron could press further, someone dropped heavily onto the bench beside him.
Two identical shadows fell across the table.
"Afternoon, gentlemen," George said.
"Lovely day for mischief," Fred added, wiggling his eyebrows.
Ron groaned. "Oh no. What do you two want?"
Fred set a small box on the table. "Halloween's around the corner. Greatest holiday ever."
George nodded solemnly. "Pranking season."
"Inescapable tradition."
"Every witch and wizard for themselves."
"But!" Fred raised a finger. "With proper preparation…"
"You can avoid being pranked."
"Or become the greatest prankster Hogwarts has ever seen."
Ron looked trapped, like they'd cornered him in a corridor. "We are eating."
George ignored him and flipped open the box with a flourish. Inside were tiny spheres, shimmering faintly with magic.
"Whizz-Bang Snap Pellets," Fred announced proudly.
"Throw one and the target's hair turns greenish purple for twenty-four hours."
"Guaranteed laughter, guaranteed chaos."
"Guaranteed trouble," Ron muttered.
Harry was curious despite himself. "They're new?"
"Fresh from Weasleys' testing lab—our bedroom," George said.
Ron sighed. "Alright, how much?"
George leaned in. "For you, dear brother… two Galleons."
Ron jolted upright. "TWO—?! I'm your brother!"
Fred didn't miss a beat. "Right, and because we love you… three Galleons."
Ron looked betrayed. "You just made it worse!"
Harry tried and failed not to laugh.
"All right, all right," George relented. "Standard price: one Galleon each."
Ron still grimaced. "That's my entire weekly allowance!"
Fred shrugged. "Mischief isn't cheap."
Ron hesitated—until Harry silently reached into his pocket and placed two Galleons into George's waiting palm.
"Harry!" Ron hissed, torn between outrage and relief.
"Relax," Harry said softly. "Consider it… an early Halloween investment."
The twins snapped the box shut, beaming.
"Pleasure doing business."
"Use them wisely."
"And if you don't—"
"You'll regret it."
Then, with synchronized bows, they vanished into the crowd.
Ron stared down at the small box in their hands. For a moment neither boy spoke.
Then Ron slowly lifted his head, blue eyes gleaming.
"You know who deserves this most, right?"
Harry didn't even have to think.
"Malfoy," they said in perfect unison.
Ron's grin spread wickedly.
His laugh came low and dramatic, the kind of villainous cackle.
"Ohohoho...Malfoy's doomed…"
Harry shook his head, trying not to laugh, but Ron's glee was contagious.
And somewhere deep in the Hall, Draco sneezed—perhaps sensing a calamity approaching.