Unfinished Business
Ron had been in a great number of offices throughout his time at Hogwarts. Mostly because of the trouble the trio got into but sometimes for the simple reasons of having poor grades. He had been in this office particularly often, it being the office of Professor McGonagall, the head of his old house.
He did wonder why he was here, the war and school were long over. The school had been cleaned up pretty quickly and the students had returned the next year, including some of his compatriots who had skipped their last year. Harry and he had opted out of returning due to, well laziness. So, it was a strange thing when McGonagall had told him to see her tonight when he was visiting Hermione.
"I can't be in trouble, can I? I mean, she doesn't have authority over me now," Ron said baffled to Hermione, who was sitting in his lap.
"Who knows?" Hermione said getting back to the book she was reading.
"You understand that people are throwing jobs at you left and right and you don't need to be here right?"
"It will be pretty bad form if I'm not able to perform the jobs I'm hired for."
"You were capable of doing most jobs in the wizarding world by the time you were thirteen."
Hermione smiled, leaned back and kissed him on the temple.
"I see you're learning how to actually compliment me," she said.
"I try," Ron said with a smile.
Many hours later, after dinner, where the first and second years fawned over their famous guest, he found himself sitting at the desk of Professor McGonagall. She had told him to meet her there but hadn't arrived yet. He wondered if she was making him wait on purpose.
He took in his surroundings for the first time with an interested eye. He had never been in here and not been in a panic. There was a picture sitting on her desk and he picked it up to look at it. There was a picture of a pretty young woman and man, smiling at the camera. The picture didn't move, so it must have been taken with a Muggle camera.
"Thank you for joining me, Mr. Weasley," the sharp voice of Professor McGonagall said cutting into the silence.
"Oh, hello professor," Ron said quickly putting the picture back on her desk but dropping it in his surprise.
McGonagall gently replaced the picture to its spot.
"Calm yourself, Mr. Weasley, and you might call me Minerva now, you are no longer one of my students," Minerva said with a bit of a smile.
"I think I'll stick with Professor," Ron said. "That'd be a bit weird in my opinion."
"Characteristically honest, as always. I see you were admiring my picture a moment ago."
"Yeah, friends of yours?"
"Oh no, Mr. Weasley, that was me in younger days."
"Oh."
"I was quite the looker, if I do say so myself."
"I'd say so too."
"Ah, not as characteristically foot in the mouth."
"Um, why am I here, Professor?"
Minerva smiled and with a flick of her wand a fully mounted chess set appeared along with a bottle and two glasses.
"I've been thinking about your first year, where you bested my chess set," she said. "I believe that you and I have unfinished business."
Ron smiled.
"I warn you, I've only gotten better with age," Ron said.
"The same can be said by many but still not be true," Minerva said peering at him over her tented fingers. "Who have you been playing against? Harry? Hermione?"
"Them, along with Luna Lovegood."
"Dear me, she plays?"
"Yes and she's a rather difficult one to read."
"I would imagine."
"Course none of them have beaten me yet."
"I would imagine Mr. Potter can't be that much of a challenge, though Ms. Granger must be."
"She's okay."
"But therein lies the problem, facing easy opponents does not make one better though the amount of wins might become increasingly high."
"Hm."
"And another warning, Dumbledore had to get past my chess set every time, it wouldn't let anyone just slide by."
"Reminds me of a professor I once had."
"And he was a bit rubbish at chess, so I didn't put my full effort into it."
The two smiled at each other. McGonagall took two pawns in her hands and shuffled them back and forth under the desk. She held out two closed fists, Ron picked one and saw that he had chosen black. He preferred this, putting him in the same position that he was in when he had been a knight.
"Shall we begin?" Minerva asked.