Just to note: I know I'm portraying Wood as more fanon than canon but just go with it.

Unauthorized Surveillance

Chapter 3

Ron ignored Hermione for the rest of the week. Harry, distracted by Quidditch practice (and of course, thwarting evil on the side), never noticed. Hermione was dejected, and constantly tried to talk to Ron, but eventually she decided to forget about it. It took too much effort to continually reach out to someone who refused to meet her halfway.

Hermione threw herself into her schoolwork, trying to distract herself from the disappointment her social life had become. Her best friends were a) busy, or b) ignoring her, so it was pointless to try to hang out with them. And she could only meet with Draco in the library and pretend to study. They couldn't do friend things together, because people would get suspicious (not that Ron wasn't anyway).

After dinner the next Monday, Harry had Quidditch practice and Hermione was avoiding Ron. Thus, Ron was heading to the dorms by himself. "Weasley." Draco's voice echoed down the hallway. As Ron was alone at the moment, he was rather apprehensive. He turned. Draco was alone too, to Ron's surprise. He'd been figuring on an ambush.

"What the hell do you want?" Ron asked rudely.

Draco sneered at him. "What'd you do to Granger?"

"What? I didn't do anything!"

"Then why's she acting like you ripped her heart out and spat in her chest cavity?"

"What?"

"Somebody's got under her skin. Someone she considers a friend. She's not the type to mope for a week because some random jerk said something stupid. But you, Weasley, aren't just some random jerk. You're her friend."

"Why the hell do you care?"

"Why don't you?" Draco shot back. Ron glared at Draco, but he was speechless. "Weasley, I'm not blind or stupid. You like her. And you think I'm a threat, since she's spending so much time with me now. But maybe you wouldn't feel so threatened if you had some balls and talked to her, instead of treating her like shit for wanting to spend time with someone else." Draco turned and walked away. Ron stood there, staring after him.

The next morning, Ron stopped Hermione on the way to breakfast. "I'm sorry I was such an ass, Hermione."

She nodded. "I know. It's okay. I know it's just because you can't stand him."

"Yeah. …But he's not such a disagreeable little ferret all the time. After all, you seem to find him tolerable, and we all know you have great taste in friends."

Hermione chuckled. "The best, undoubtedly." They smiled at each other and headed to breakfast, where they sat next to each other, and for the first time in a week, conversed. At one point when Ron and Harry started talking about something or other (Hermione wasn't really paying attention), Hermione caught Draco's eye and gave him a funny look. He winked at her and she grinned, mouthing "You old softy," at him. He raised a finger to his lips, as if to shush her. She winked in return, and finished her breakfast.

Draco and Hermione stopped having tutoring sessions as often. They decided they should spend more time with their other friends, and besides, Draco had to practice Quidditch. Hermione and Draco didn't have another 'tutoring session' until December twentieth. They finalized their plans, nearly breathless with excitement, waiting for the day of truth to arrive.

They scribbled notes to each other, using abbreviations and omitting details as often as possible, in case someone should peer over their shoulders. They could just claim it was some archaic potion recipe they were deciphering if anyone saw their paper. They agreed on a meeting place (behind a certain statue in an underused second-floor hallway) and a certain time (right after lunch – Harry always liked to have a little siesta when he had a bit of time, so he'd be in his room. This time had the added advantage that no one would notice that Harry wasn't around until dinnertime, and the matter would certainly have been settled by then. Either that, or the people on the floor beneath Harry's room would wonder why the ceiling was dripping, and either way, their little venture into unauthorized surveillance would be brought to an end). Hermione would bring the cloak and the mirror. Draco would perform silence spells on the area so no one would hear them and alert spells besides, in case someone came near.

Just to be doubly sure we don't get caught, Draco explained in quick scribbles. I mean, they can't see or hear us, sure, but they could very well walk right into us. Not that I think anyone will be nosing around the statue, but…

It's a fantastic idea. Mrs. Norris can see through the cloak, so we'll need to know if she's around, Hermione wrote back in her tidy script.

That damn cat. Like to give the thing a nice boot into a closet and lock it in there.

Hermione chuckled. Filch would kill you.

Draco snorted. I swear the only reason he's so possessive of the damn thing is 'cause it's the only pussy he's ever touched.

Hermione made a face, but still snickered. That's terrible! she wrote, not really meaning it.

"Writin' love notes, are we?" a Scottish voice drawled into their ears. Hermione squeaked. Draco hid the paper inside his robe's inner pocket. "I seem to have quite the knack for botherin' you two, don't I?" Wood asked, amused.

"Congratulations," Draco replied dryly. "But don't you have something better to do? Why don't you go ride your broomstick some more? From what I've heard, you really enjoy riding sticks."

Hermione stopped breathing. 'Did he just say what I think he said? Oh dear Lord.'

Oliver was a bit taken aback at first, but then laughed. "Nice stinger. Plannin' to be a movie critic when you hit puberty?"

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but Hermione clapped a hand over his mouth. "Can you two save the verbal abuse for the Quidditch field? We've got studying to do."

"The day before hols?" Wood asked incredulously.

"Extra credit," Hermione explained.

Wood shrugged and shot them a grin. "You're crazy," he said, walking away.

Hermione took her hand from Draco's mouth. "I can't believe you said that!" she hissed.

"Oh come on. No straight man likes a stick between his legs as much as Wood does."

Hermione was struck speechless as she finally pieced it all together. "He's the bait," she said monotonously.

Draco smirked. "Yup. Gryffindor boy, handsome, more than likely gay… Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't figure it out before."

Hermione watched Oliver disappear through the library doors. She thought about how dreadfully fit he must be under those robes, how devastatingly handsome his smile was, and how unnaturally erotic his accent was. "I'm going to lose," she said blankly.

"Big time," Draco replied, grinning.

Two days later, Hermione borrowed the cloak from Harry after lunch. She waited in the Gryffindor common room while he went to his room to fetch the cloak. They were the only Gryffindors in the room. Fred and George were rigging mild explosives to a toilet. ("We forgot to get Ginny a present, and we figured 'better late than never,'" explained George to a curious Ron, who nodded and quickly left the loo for fear of being exploded himself).

Harry rummaged around in his drawers, finally locating the cloak, buried under some hideous but lovingly made sweaters from Mrs. Weasley. He smiled, remembering how wonderful it had been to open that first Christmas present from her and find a sweater just like her own children's. He had finally felt like part of a real family, and what more appropriate place to keep his father's cloak than with the clothes of his honorary family? Grabbing the cloak, Harry rushed downstairs to give it to Hermione, who had insisted all along that time was of the essence.

She was utterly grateful and immediately slipped it on, rushing to her room to fetch her enchanted mirror. She grabbed it quickly and hurried out of the Gryffindor rooms, knowing that she only had a small window of time to get out before the twins started working the sealing spells. She didn't want to be too near, just in case the spell was cast wrong and she was also trapped in the Gryffindor rooms. She opened the door and slipped out, barely shutting the door behind her before Fred and George were almost upon her. She ducked out of the way and scurried down the steps, glancing back to watch them cast the spells.

Fred did a temporary transparency spell to peer inside. When they had made sure that only Harry was around, Fred entered. George stayed behind, waiting for his cue. Fred sauntered in, calling out to Harry, "Hey Harry, have you seen George anywhere?"

"No, I haven't. You two aren't off causing mischief?" Harry asked wryly.

Fred grinned cheekily. "He'd better not be without me! Do you know if he's in the dorms?"

"No, there's no one here but us."

At that, George made Harry's dresser tip over. Hearing the loud thud from upstairs, Harry and Fred rushed to check.

"You sure about that?" asked Fred, feigning nervousness. They both drew their wands and headed up the stairs.

"Oy, Fred!" George called after them, walking into the room. Both boys turned to look at George and pocketed their wands, realizing it was only George down there. While Harry was looking at George, Fred discreetly pilfered Harry's wand and slipped a harmless dowel rod into Harry's pocket in its place. He then winked at George, who discretely nodded. "Fred, I need your help. I can't dismantle the toilet alone."

"Right, right," Fred agreed. He reverted back to his usual easygoing self. "Harry, you go on ahead. It was probably Ron being clumsy. He's been avoiding George and me all day. Afraid we'll get him into trouble or something. He's probably up there hiding from us."

Harry looked doubtful, but nodded. "He may have gotten up there without me noticing. I'll go tell him you'll leave him alone."

"Thanks Harry," the twins chorused, racing for the door as Harry climbed the stairs. Harry entered his room and looked around. The room seemed quite empty.

"Ron?" he called. "Fred and George said they'd leave you alone today." Harry peered into corners, looking for his friend. With a sudden bang, the door flew shut behind him. Harry turned and raced for the door, but it was already shut and wouldn't budge. "Alohamora!" he cried, waving his dowel rod. Nothing happened. He looked at what he was holding. "FRED!!!!!" he yelled. "Give me back my wand and unlock my door!" There was no answer. Or rather, there was an answer, but not a verbal one. In response to Harry's cries, the water pipe in his ceiling had proceeded to spring a rather large and forceful leak.

"Aaaack!" Harry yelped in surprise, moving out of the water spray. The water suddenly stopped. Harry stood, puzzled and dripping, then tried the door again. The downpour started anew. Harry dashed away from the door and dove onto his bed. The downpour became a trickle, but didn't stop this time. Harry wiped the moisture from his glasses on his bedspread and put them back on. Harry pulled the bedspread off his bed and threw it atop the posters to form a sort of makeshift tent. It would certainly help block the rain.

Fred and George congratulated each other on a job well done and headed out of the common room into the stairways. Once out there, George did a quick charm to block entrance to the rooms for three hours. It was, of course, one of the spells Hermione had given them, and was not in fact the complete spell. The complete spell blocked all entrance to the Gryffindor rooms. Hermione's edited version, however, allowed one specific person to enter. And that one person, of course, was Oliver Wood.