A Pawn in Their Hands
1991
They could do this—she could do this. She would win this war and claim victory for her commander.
Scanning the battlefield, the white pawn—or now the white queen, thanks to the turbaned man she had helped through on behalf of her commander—inspected her troops. The knights' horses pawed the ground with their hooves and snorted, their riders glaring at the black army. The pawns were radiating nervous energy and her king stood tall and confident.
They were ready.
Staring down the board at her enemy, she gave her first order. "Knight to B3."
1980
"Bishop to F3."
If she could, the white pawn would have tapped her foot impatiently. The black bishop only had to move three places, yet he seemed to be taking his sweet time. If she didn't know any better, she would have guessed that he was doing it on purpose, knowing the feat she was about to accomplish.
Yes, after over one hundred and twenty-six games, she was finally going to be crowned a queen. She would then be able to move in any direction she wanted and have power over the other soldiers.
After what felt like hours, the black bishop finally crossed the last square. This was it, her commander would call for her to move just one square and she could be crow—
"Checkmate!" a man's voice boomed.
What? Swivelling her head around, the white pawn looked at the bishop. Although none of them had been carved distinguished faces, she could still see him smirking at her king, who now had no choice but to step into the bishop's path.
It was all over—her hopes of making a queen, gone. She may as well have been the king herself, waiting for her own life to be taken away; it would have been less painful than this.
"Dammit!" Without a care for her own turmoil, her commander shoved her towards the opposite end of the board.
"Don't worry, Elphinstone, you'll get him next time," a brunette woman standing behind him said.
If she could, the white pawn would have rolled her eyes. There was no way Elphinstone would ever win a game; the rare good moves he made were only ever by accident.
"Yeah, next time," the enemy commander said.
"Perhaps I could challenge you, then, Barty?" the woman said.
The enemy commander, Barty, laughed, and the white pawn rolled her eyes again. The man might have won the last game, but he was no better at strategy than Elphinstone.
Taking a seat, the woman began a new battle. "Pawn to A3."
If the two men were pathetic at strategy, they were nothing compared to the woman who had taken over as the white commander. Every move she made was slow and painful. She had no trouble sacrificing the knights early on, leaving few of the larger pieces to protect their king.
"It won't be so easy to win without your queen, Minerva," the opposing commander said.
One of the black rooks had just knocked out the white queen. Although the white pawn was now close to the end of the board, she highly doubted that the woman knew what that meant.
"Slow and steady wins the race," the woman said.
"Suit yourself."
The woman should have listened to Barty. Minutes later, the white side was down to only a handful of pawns and a rook.
"It looks like you're wasting moves chasing my king," Barty said.
Her commander raised a thin eyebrow. "Oh? Pawn to G8."
It was a few seconds before the white pawn realised the woman was talking to her. Was she finally going to get to the end of the board? Puffing out her chest, the white pawn glided forward.
"Queen," her commander said.
The white pawn half-expected to feel some spark of sorts travel through her marble body, to feel taller or stronger when she crossed to the final square. What she did feel, however, was much better.
It felt as though her body had been doused in water—much like the time her owner had let a younger human play with them in the kitchen sink as though they were mere toys—but this time, she enjoyed it. The new crown adorning her head fit perfectly as she grew taller.
It felt natural, powerful, good.
"Check," her commander said with a small smile.
The black commander shifted in his seat. "King to F5."
Looking to the black king, the white pawn—now the white queen—found herself copying her commander's smile. Without anybody realising, Minerva had managed to corner the king with the rooks and pawns behind him.
"Queen to G6," the woman said.
The white queen swept towards the black king, who leant as far away from her new sword as he could, his dark eyes wide.
"Checkmate."
The words had never sounded sweeter. Although the white side had won other games, they had only ever happened when the white pawn—now queen—had already been knocked out.
"Dammit!" Barty shouted.
"Quite often you'll find people forget about the importance of pawns," her commander said.
"You may as well keep the game board then," the man said, scraping back his chair. "It's useless to me now."
"Now, now, Barty, no need to be like that," Elphinstone said, giving the woman a kiss on the cheek.
The black commander rolled his eyes. Although her own commander started restoring pieces and placed her back on her original square, the white pawn didn't mind. She may have just been a pawn again, but perhaps now, with a new commander who could actually play the game, it wouldn't be so bad.
The small human staring at her made his first, hesitant move. "Pawn to D4."
The white queen smirked as the black pawn seemed to not want to move, perhaps knowing that it would only be a matter of time before he was smashed to pieces.
Deep down, she knew it was not the youth's fault; he hadn't made Minerva give up chess or broken her heart. Nevertheless, he had taken on the position of the black knight and had thus taken a position against her and Minerva. Human or not, the ginger-haired boy had to be destroyed, to be smashed into splinters of marble the size of matchsticks, just like his black pawn.
1982
Humans never quite understood chess; pieces were always mistreated, dismissed. Just because they didn't have faces, at least not as defined as the witches and wizards who lead them into battle, they were deemed dispensable.
Minerva, however, was different. With each game she played, her care for each and every piece shone through. The white pawn's new commander was a strategic master, winning the vast majority of games by using every single piece available to her. Sometimes the white pawn would be crowned a queen, sometimes a rook or a bishop. Sometimes she wouldn't even make it to the end of the board, but the white pawn never really minded.
"Checkmate!" Minerva said, ending another game with a victory.
The white pawn—this time turned into a rook—stuck her tongue out at the black knight she had taken out. He was still lying on the side of the board, his horse whinnying beside him.
"Very sly. You never ceased to amaze me, Minerva," Elphinstone said, scratching his ginger beard.
Although Elphinstone never quite managed to win a game, the white pawn liked him. Whenever he entered the house, Minerva would always bring out the chess set, complete with two freshly brewed cups of tea, and play a game.
"Come, let's leave this here. I have something important I want to ask you," Elphinstone said.
Minerva began to pack away the pieces. "You know I like to take care of my possessions," she said, repairing one of the other white pawns.
"Please, Minnie, I think you won't mind waiting just this once," Elphinstone said again, and the white pawn noticed him tapping his pocket.
She wanted to roll her eyes at the man's impatience, eager to get back to her original position and have a small rest before the next battle. Thankfully, Minerva stood her ground. She finished putting away each piece and gently placed the board onto the cabinet shelf.
"Alright, what is it?" she asked, closing the cabinet door.
As soon as she walked away, some of the white pawn's comrades starting jeering at the black pieces in triumph. The white pawn, however, focused her attention past the annoyed black side to the living room. She had to make sure that Elphinstone's news did not affect any future games.
She watched as the man bent down on his knee in front of Minerva, taking out a small box from his pocket. Water began to leak from her commander's eyes, sending the white pawn's stone heart into a frenzied beat. Leaking eyes was a strange phenomenon she had only ever seen happen to some commanders when they lost, but Minerva had just won the game. She watched Minerva nod her head and throw her arms around Elphinstone.
It was a strange gesture, but not too concerning; she was sure there would be plenty more games.
The ginger-haired boy proved to be more of a strategist than she had first thought. Thinking about his moves almost as carefully as Minerva did, the boy had managed to take out several white pawns and keep his two human companions safe.
Still, the white queen knew he would slip up somehow and concentrated on cornering him.
1985
Today, the white pawn felt she might try being a bishop if she got to the end. Of course, it would be completely up to her commander, but after the last few games, she had started to realise that going across the board diagonally was a bit faster.
As soon as Minerva placed her on her starting square, making sure she was lined up neatly with all the other pieces, she turned her head towards the door. Elphinstone was due back from work any moment—5:15 on the dot, as always—and the game would begin. When Minerva placed two steaming mugs of hot tea beside the board, her marble body trembled in anticipation.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Seconds, then minutes, went by, the golden hand on the kitchen clock passing over the '3' and moving down to the '6'. The white pawn looked from the clock to the door and back to the clock again, less excited than impatient to start the game.
Beside her, two other pawns began to fight over who would be the first to move. It was always the same each game: one would bet that they would get to move first because they were in the direct centre of the board, even though the 'direct centre' did not exist.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
When the clock passed the '3' once more, Minerva stood up and took the cups of tea away. A loud knock sounded at the door, however, causing the woman to place them on a side table.
Finally. Elphinstone was here, and the game could begin.
The white pawn watched Minerva open the door but the wooden structure blocked her view of who was behind it. She could hear voices, voices that sounded loud like Elphinstone's, but weren't quite the same. Strange words like 'accident' and 'Venomous Tentacular' she had never heard of before were thrown about. They didn't sound like strategies that would help Minerva win the game, and soon the white pawn found herself wishing that whoever it was would hurry up and leave.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Finally, Minerva closed the door again. Her eyes were leaking water, her chest heaving up and down. She crossed the room and sat on the chair, staring at the pieces. Having seen Minerva's eyes do that before, the white pawn turned away from her and straightened up, ready to begin the game.
It was only when she was suddenly drenched in water that the white pawn turned back to Minerva. Large plops of water fell from her commander's eyes onto the board, causing some of the pieces to cover their heads with their arms and run to shelter. Minerva's body was trembling, not bothering to catch the water with her hands.
The white pawn wasn't sure what was happening, but she had a sinking feeling that the game would not be played today.
The white pawn, now queen, had never felt so light and happy. Sitting directly in her path, hands shaking on his horse's reigns, was the enemy.
The boy emitted a strange smell—fear if she didn't know better—when she glided forward. It was almost enough to make her loosen her grip on her sword and reconsider what she was doing.
Almost.
The young human stared up at her, grim determination in his wide blue eyes. It was the same look Elphinstone used to wear when playing, even when he knew he would lose.
Holding up her sword, the white queen shook her head. No, this human was just like Elphinstone. He had chosen to take the opposing side. Minerva had been explicit in her instruction to win at all costs, and there was no way she would let another human come along and risk having Minerva never play another game.
With a smile, the white queen lifted the sword above her head. The human squeezed his eyes shut and held up an arm to protect himself, but it was too late as she brought her sword down.
1991
Not for the first time, the white pawn was glad she didn't have what humans called 'lungs.' If she did, she was sure she would have had constant coughing fits from all the dust floating around. Every day, she would watch the tiny golden hand of the clock spin around, soon losing how many times it passed the '3'. Minerva would often pass the cabinet, but never did she take out the chess set. The white pawn had long since given up hope that one day she would crack open the door and play another game.
It was all his fault, of course. Elphinstone had never turned up at the door from work, never set foot back in the house. Since that day, Minerva had never played another game of chess. The connection was clear, and if the white pawn ever came across the man again, she would make sure to defeat his battalion with more vigour than she ever did before.
"I think I have everything," Minerva muttered, placing a hat on her trunk and staring around the room.
One of the black pawns sighed and was soon echoed by several other pawns. The white pawn rolled her eyes at him, wondering why he expected any different. She watched as Minerva waved her wand and minimised the trunk.
The white pawn turned her gaze away from her, preparing herself for another year of neglect.
"Oh! How silly of me!" Minerva said.
Sweeping towards the cabinet, she carefully picked up the chess board and blew on it. Before the white pawn could process what was happening, or recover from her surprise, Minerva then took out her wand and aimed it at the pieces.
A few of the pieces squealed, including the white king, as they began to shrink. Minerva lifted the board up again, causing chaos amongst pieces who slid across the board, and placed it into the trunk.
It was hours, days even, before the white pawn saw light again. She didn't mind, however, for as soon as the board was taken out of the trunk, Minerva began to set up a game. As the other pieces tittered about the strange, cold room they were in, the white pawn stared at the woman.
Could it be? Was she going to finally play another game?
Minerva pointed her wand at the board and murmured something. The pieces around her squealed again, yet the white pawn's attention remained on Minerva as she and the other pieces grew bigger and bigger, surpassing her original size and growing taller than any normal human.
Minerva didn't give her time to register this, however, and simply said, "Win at all costs," before leaving the room.
The white queen held her sword pointed towards the young humans. The redhead hadn't moved since she had struck him down, his little companion crying over his still form.
She had done what Minerva had asked: she had stopped the boy from winning and vanquished her enemy. Minerva would now be safe to come back and further battles could be played.
It wasn't long before the door to the room burst open and her commander came rushing through with an older man.
"Merlin! Albus, this hasn't gone as planned at all!" Minerva cried, running over to the board.
The white queen stood tall and proud as Minerva leant down to examine the boy, looking at his arm and placing a finger on his wrist. She waited for her commander to declare the boy officially defeated before bestowing praise upon her.
"I'm sure Mr Weasley will be fine, Minerva," the older man said. "He has done his school proud."
Water was leaking from Minerva's eyes, almost as much as it had when Elphinstone had left. With a shaky breath, she said, "Chess is a barbaric game, such a barbaric game. I will tell you now, I shall not be playing again."
The white queen stared at her commander, unsure she had heard correctly. There was no mistaking the look of hatred in Minerva's green eyes, however, when she turned her gaze on her. Her own eyes felt strange, and had she not been made of marble, she wouldn't have been surprised if she, too, started leaking water.
Minerva had been the best commander, the best strategist she had ever known. Minerva had made her a queen when no one else had, yet now it was clear that she was nothing more than a pawn in a human world.
A/N: This fic was written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Season 4, Semi-finals. The Falmouth Falcons were given the prompt 'write from the perspective of the giant chess board.'
As Beater 1, my two bonus prompts were:
(word) sly
(word) matchsticks
Word count: 2992 (using Gdocs and )
Needless to say, this was one of the hardest rounds I have ever done, and I apologise for having made any of you read this lol. After considering an idea about a pawn trying to become a queen (as inspired by the quote "Chess: the game where a pawn can become a queen"–unknown), or having Minerva go a little haywire and have her transforming students into chess pieces as detention/ revenge, I went with this. I hope the backstory of how the giant chessboard game to be makes sense (i.e. it was a regular Wizarding Chess set before Minerva transformed it to be life-size—a detail I didn't dwell on too much). Oh, one more thing: I know that Elphinstone was old when he died, much older than Minnie, but I did read somewhere he had a ginger beard... somewhere. Fanon or not, I can see him having it in my head (that, and hair dye does exist, especially magical hair dye ;)).
A big thank you to The Lady Arturia and WrenWinterSong for beta'ing this piece for me, and to everyone putting up with my many 'I hate chess' phases :) If anyone is unsure of the moves of chess (I actually had to play a few games to make sure the moves worked out in this), once a pawn gets to the opposite side of the board, it can become a queen, rook, bishop or knight. I think it's safe to say, however, that I won't be playing any more games anytime soon ;)
Thanks for reading! Xx