Abominable Checkered Squares

A/N: Fifth year, during Harry's detentions.

A/N 2: I have a reason for the shortness of this fic. Like Hatred and part one of Symbolism, it is slightly autobiographical. (So I obviously have very little to say about my own life.) Little by little, slightly to ease the pain and slightly to make it worse, I let out little pieces of my soul. I write. I sing. I play. I listen. And it helps. Until one day, maybe, when I'm strong enough can tell my own story in its entirety to those who love me most and those who don't know me at all. Until then, I have fanfiction.

My name isn't Hermione, and his isn't Ron. My best friends' names aren't Ginny and my man-stealers aren't Lavender, but it's my story for now.

A/N 3: Sorry about the musings above.

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He took my bishop with great delight, laughing as he said "Check." I knew how this was going to end. It had ended the same way every time we played. But I hated to lose.

Ron and I had played chess directly after dinner for almost a month now. One of us always asked the other sometime during the day, though we knew the answer. It was fun, sometimes. But other times, it was hard. Ron could gloat like no other. He won every game we had played and some days, he was obnoxious.

This was one of those days.

"Ron, you're awful to me. I hate you."

"No, you don't," he said, smirking.

It was true. I loved the git, despite his shortcomings.

I tried to let Ron have his moment. Chess was the only thing he could beat me at. But honestly, could he cut me some slack?

I sighed as I moved out of check. But it led him to take my rook. The only pieces left were knights and pawns. He always hesitated to take my knights, knowing they were my favorite, always asking himself if it was worth it before he took them. What he didn't understand was why I loved them.

I moved a knight. It wouldn't help, but it was therapeutic to know it wouldn't be taken. I hated to see the knights taken. It brought back memories I tried to avoid.

He moved a pawn into a position to take the other knight.

My blood pumped wildly as my heart raced. Without a second thought, I moved the knight. I wouldn't let it get taken again. Not after that experience for the Stone. I loved the knights despite their inability to move the way I wanted. Their stubbornness was fine with me, even when it rubbed me the wrong way on occasion.

He moved a rook. My king was trapped.

"Checkmate," he said with a grin.

I held the king under my index finger, twirling it within its square silently.

"Hermione?"

I was lost. Looking at the abominable checkered pattern, I decided that I hated chess. It was a stupid game and I never wanted to play it again.

I tipped over my king and looked up and asked the question I knew I'd regret.

"Tomorrow?"