Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize, but I can dream…
"Checkmate," I said and with a flourish of my want, restored the pieces to their starting positions. I watched as Remus (my defeated opponent) got up and walk away to rejoin his friends, the "Marauders," and looked around the room for my next victi-er challenger. I was the wizard chess champion of the Gryffindor common room, and while this was the third time this week Remus has tried to steal my title, he has never won. I didn't mind though. Games against Remus were fun because they were challenging.
I glanced over to the Marauders again just in time to see Potter stand up and head my way. James Potter and I were currently truced. He promised not to ask me out every other day like the pervious years (I kid you not; I have to give the boy points for persistence), and in return he get civil behavior from the Head Girl, who is me. This agreement came about from him becoming Head Boy (I always knew Dumbledore was barmy. Though Potter knew most of the school rules-because he has broken them all), and we were forced to see each other quite often; its not like we could avoid it, we share a tower (with separate rooms! Chill.). Well anyway, Potter and I thought that we shouldn't wake up the whole school with yet another argument while doing rounds after curfew or something (I guess just because he wants to date me doesn't mean he wants to be charming all the time).
I guessed it wouldn't be the aforementioned civil behavior to ask him to go away, so I let him sit down in front of me.
"Hullo Lily. Care for a game?" He asked and, without waiting for my response promptly started talking to the chess pieces. They seemed to be quite taken with him
(especially the Queen, though the look the king was giving him wasn't too friendly), which is strange because usually they don't like anyone since they're always being smashed to little bits and scraps from my dominating strategy. Which doesn't actually hurt them, but looks like it's quite annoying.
Once finished discussing the finer points of a good moat with the rook, Potter finally decided to talk to me; "Both of us know you are going to win anyways, so why not make this a tad more interesting with a wager?"
I narrowed my eyes at him (which are usually compared to algae by Potter in poems thanks to their green coloring. Most defiantly not the way to a girls heart).
Wagers with Potter usually ended up with an attempt to get me to go on a date with him-
"So after that offer who could refuse?" He asked. Ops, I missed his terms.
"What was that again?" I said politely. My mom says that politeness can get you out of any bad situation, but in this case I think it will just get me into one.
"I said, If I win I should get to show you the wonders of Hogsmeade on this December 21."
I bit back a groan; apparently this was no different than a usual Potter wager.
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