Harry's eyes carefully tracked his opponent's movements, emerald irises blazing like fire. The only thing that prevented him from immediately attacking him was the space between them. He knew that, at this distance, there was no way he would even be able to get in a hit, let alone take him down. Besides, his opponent was too good.

Stop thinking that, Harry berated himself. You'll never win if you give up!

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. He couldn't afford to have doubts. Too much depended on this battle. He had to defeat him. If he didn't… If he didn't…

He shook the thought from his head. There was no point in thinking of what would happen if he couldn't win. He just had to. It wasn't a matter of personal pride. He had defeated Hermione—beaten her down until she couldn't even form any kind of resistance—and now he was going to pay. Harry would make sure of that.

With another calming breath, he stared into his opponent's eyes, trying to judge what he would do next. There had to be some way he could turn this situation to his advantage. He knew that his opponent was better equipped, better prepared, and more experienced, but he couldn't let that deter him. After all, even the best of fighters make mistakes. You just had to be ready for them.

Harry shuffled forward, trying to formulate an attack plan. But before he did, the other darted forward, striking out and forcing Harry to dodge to the right, out of harm's way. Eyes darting everywhere, he tried to find some way to escape as his opponent began a barrage of attacks, striking left and right, trying to corner him. Desperately, Harry spotted a tiny opening and dove away, retreating as far as he could from the onslaught.

His enemy simply smirked, preparing another plan. Harry took the opportunity to settle himself and come up with a plan, as impossible as it seemed.

He's better than me, he reminded himself. I have to stay one step ahead, and always be ready… I can't let my guard down!

He steadied himself, watching closely as the other prepared for another attack. He had to be ready…

His enemy dove forward again, twisting around his feeble defence and diving in for a fatal hit. Harry dodged again, just barely escaping. He could see the satisfaction in the other's eyes, already assured of victory, as yet another onslaught began, this one more aggressive than the last, and far more devastating. There was no chance for Harry to form a defence, to get his guard up and put some kind of distance between them. It was simply impossible…

I can't let him win!

Harry forced himself to not panic, to watch for something, anything, he could use to get away, or even to defeat him. Even experts made mistakes! He had to find something!

And there! The tiniest of mistakes, the most miniscule of openings, and Harry was ready to take it. With almost feral glee and relief, he leapt forward, seeing the look of surprise and sudden comprehension on his opponent's face. Bringing his arm up in a sweeping arc, he let it fall down in a killing blow—

"Checkmate!"

Ron's eyes were widened comically as he stared at the board, Harry's knight effectively cornering his so strategically placed king.

"But… what… you…"

Harry felt the thrill of victory well up in his chest. "You made a mistake, Ron. You finally made a mistake!" he crowed. "I actually beat you!"

Ron groaned and dropped his flaming face into his hands. "…I was distracted…" he muttered after a moment. "It was just luck."

Harry rolled his eyes, even as Hermione laughed triumphantly.

"I thought you said you couldn't be beaten!" she teased.

Ron made a choking noise and fidgeted in his seat, before standing. "I beat you," he accused.

Hermione scowled good-naturedly. "So? Harry beat you!"

His hand twitched slightly. "It was luck! Pure luck, you hear?" But the way his eyes kept shifting around in his beet-red face said otherwise. Harry found himself laughing out loud. Ron gave him a look as if he had something incredibly sour in his mouth—which only made Harry laugh harder—and stalked away.

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione groaned, trying to hide her mirth as she rose and followed him out of the common room.

Harry stared after her for a moment, a smile on his face. Reaching down, he picked up the black knight, the one that had so loyally won him the game. Tossing it in the air and catching it again, he set it back on the board. Then, with a grin, he rose and followed his friends.

Just something I came up with while musing about fanfiction one day, and just had to write down... XD No, there really is no point to it. I hope you enjoyed!