Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all associated characters, etc. belong to J. K. Rowling.

Minerva relaxed into the familiar armchair which squatted comfortably in front of the fire. She studied the chessboard on the table in front of her, her eyes sharp and searching. As she waited for the next move to be made, she glanced up at her opponent, Albus Dumbledore. His crystalline blue eyes were roving around the board, plotting his next maneuver. With anyone else, years of playing chess would have become a mindless task as the same mistakes were made, the same pieces swapped. With Albus, however, every move was a challenge; she continued to enjoy their weekly chess games, each filled with as much intensity and friendly competition as they had been thirty years ago.

His fingers hovered above the board for a moment, then grasped a white knight and set him two spaces up, one space across. The pieces had long since given up protesting at this treatment, though they much preferred to move themselves. With a triumphant gleam in his eye, he said, "Check."

She placed her teacup on the table beside the board and deftly moved her black king, not only blocking its capture but also returning the favor by exposing a rook. "Check."

The soft music drifting from the enchanted radio on the windowsill fitted Albus's personality perfectly. The humorous honks of one of the more playful Gershwin compositions made her lips curve into a small rare smile over the rim of the teacup as she savored the perfection of the night. A chess game, a warm fire, superb music, and her dear friend of many years. She looked out into the starlit night and to her surprise found herself filled with anger as her thoughts shifted to a young boy up in the dormitories not having such a perfect evening; a young boy wondering if he was a murderer. "Albus, do you think Harry will be all right?"

Albus shifted a rook, then looked up. "I don't know, Minerva. All I know is that Harry is a

strong boy, and if anyone can move on from a thing like this, he can."

"Life has forced him to be strong," she said stiffly. Then with sudden vigor, "And that father of Diggory's, giving him hell for something he didn't do!" She glared down at the board, then slammed her black queen down violently. "Check. Why does the man insist it's Harry's fault? If it weren't for him Harry might be fine, might could still be friends with Weasley and Granger without that worried look he gets every time he goes near them!"

Albus calmly moved his rook again. "Minerva, today was only the first day. He could turn out to be perfectly all right this year. In the meantime, just try to help him however you can and don't worry too much about him. I believe Molly has done enough of that for all of us." His lips hinted at a ghost of a smile as he remembered the woman's well-intended kindness.

She purposefully slid her bishop a few spaces to the left diagonal. "You're right. Of course." Then with a sigh, "I hope he isn't too upset."

Albus moved his knight. "He'll be fine, my dear Professor. Now, I do believe that's a checkmate for you, if I'm correct." He chuckled softly at her as she threw up her hands in mock exasperation.

"What can I say. I'm beat!" She managed a thin smile as he clasped his hands over his head in a mock show of victory. The clock in the corner suddenly tolled in its rich tones.

"My! Midnight, already! Best be retiring these faithful troops and get some sleep." Together they packed the chess pieces in their well-worn case and he set it on its shelf until the next game. Then he walked back over and looked into her eyes. "Minerva, promise me you won't worry yourself to death about the boy."

"Why would I do something like tha-"

"Minerva."

"All right, I promise."

"That's better. Now, off to your quarters, and no reading until three in the morning. You need sleep; you don't look well."

"Thank you."

"You know what I meant."

"That I look like I've been hit by the Knight Bus?"

"You are a prime example of stubbornness. I give up."

"Good; I'm much to tired to debate."

"Good night, Minerva, dear. See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Albus."