A/N: Hey, I decided to do Camp Nanowrimo after I started doing my own story then suddenly realizing that was ongoing so might as well multitask. This might actually mean more productivity from me on this site, since when I start to do writing, I tend to write lots of other things as well. For example, this was a result of starting to write my novel haha. Well, hope you enjoy! :)
Chess
Ron has always known he wasn't the brightest kid on the block. Hell, compared to Hermione, he was just a fly on the wall, easily batted away away a simple careless flick of the hand. It had been that way his whole life.
This was only pronounced by the way others looked at him, the way they stared. Malfoy's sneer. He didn't care that his family was poor, but by Merlin, that boy made him want to punch someone's brains out. Well, that was another factor to his "brute" mentality. Got no brains, so make it up with the fists.
Then there was Harry...
His best friend. He had it all – fame, wealth, bravery. Clever, even. Ron couldn't help feeling jealous sometimes. He never could be what Harry Potter was.
But there was one thing. One thing that no one else could beat him at.
Chess.
It was almost ironic. Chess was considered a strategic game, for the educated elite. In some circles, the ability itself to play the game was the determination of one's intelligence. Well, no one had been able to beat Ron in this game for a long, long time. Not Malfoy, or Harry, or even Hermione.
So there was this one thing he treasured. One thing that was all his own. He was the one who had defeated the chess game in their plight to save the Philosopher's Stone. He had won.
Despite everything, he had won that one simple, terrifying chess game.