CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: USUAL SUSPECTS

Student Activities Room

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

13 February 1993

Ron studied the chess board for a moment longer, then grinned. "Checkmate in two."

Palin scowled. "Good game."

Ron grinned wider. "Thanks." Palin was one of the stronger players on the Slytherin team, and after losing to him three times and ending in stalemate once, Ron was ecstatic over the win. He'd done well enough in the fall tournament against Ravenclaw, beating both Juliette Stark, who was a third year, and Aoife Moran, who was a fifth year. However, he'd lost to sixth year Duncan Inglebee after misstepping during the endgame, and Ron was determined to not let that happen again.

They headed back to the main table, Ron still smiling like a loon. Barclay raised an eyebrow. "I take it you finally beat Palin?"

Ron nodded.

"Good for you. Julius and I just debriefed our game, and I think Margaret and Flora are still discussing. Palin, what do you think went wrong?"

Palin grimaced. "Midgame, Ron set up a trap for my queen that I didn't notice until it was too late. He'd taken out a couple of my other key pieces as well by that point, and after I lost the queen it was just a matter of delaying the inevitable."

"Fair. Ron, how do you think your endgame was?"

Ron thought for a moment. "Better than it has been in previous games. The win could have been a bit cleaner, but overall it's been improving. I've got a couple other ideas I'd like to try, and I think they'll at least put my opponent on the back foot."

"Glad to hear it," Barclay said easily. "Margaret, Flora, how was your game?"

"As expected. We've already debriefed."

"Good, good. Now, on the subject of our spring school-wide tournament, registration has been going pretty well. We've got a bunch of Slytherins signed up, including everyone's favorite chess player, Draco Malfoy -"

The entire team groaned.

"- A bunch of 'Claws signed up as well, a handful of 'Puffs, and one lone Gryffindor."

"Percy Weasley?"

"You guessed it. We've got another couple of weeks before signups close, so keep telling all your friends to join. Palin, anything to add?"

"Not on the Hogwarts tournament, but I've received a couple owls with summer chess opportunities for those who are interested. The British Chess Championship is a great tournament that's taking place in London this year. It's got two divisions - scholastic, for those who are under seventeen, and open for those who are over seventeen. Semi finalists and finalists get free entry to the Western European Chess Tournament, which is hosted in Paris."

Ron's eyes widened. It'd be the perfect opportunity!

"I highly recommend that everyone attend - the entry fee is three Galleons, two sickles, and a knut, which is very reasonable. There's also the Valentine Gaunt Memorial Chess Tournament, open to anyone from England or Wales."

"Thank you. Does anyone else have any comments? Questions?"

"Any updates on an interscholastic tournament?" Julius Fudge asked.

"Beauxbatons is definitely interested, as is Olympus and Ferviditious," Palin said. "Durmstrang is on the fence - apparently their headmaster is being squirrely about it. I didn't owl the Irish school, for obvious reasons -"

Ron grimaced, remembering the Dark reputation of the Irish school, and the true reasons for their split from the rest of Britain.

"- and I figured we could expand to include some of the other wizarding schools if this is successful. I don't want us to overburden ourselves the first time organizing it."

"That's fair. So this would probably happen next year?"

"If all goes to plan, yes."

"Excellent."

"Does anyone else have questions? No? I'll see you all next weekend, then."

Ron happily walked back to the Slytherin dorms, dreaming of chess all the while. He, Ron Weasley, would be the school chess champion, and it'd be amazing.

Potions Classroom

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

14 February 1993

Hermione concentrated fiercely on chopping her betony root into thin identical slices while Lily crushed moly blossoms. The healing potion they were making in class today was particularly fiddly, and Hermione wanted to make sure they got it exactly right. Any mistakes would mean that they wouldn't finish the potion within the allotted time, which would be disastrous for Hermione's marks.

"You should now be finished constructing your base," Professor Selwyn said from the front of the room. "Check the color index at the back of your textbook to ensure that it is the proper shade of lavender. If your potion is too pale or too dark, raise your hand and I will help you determine how to adjust it so you may move forward. If your potion is not a shade of lavender or purple, you will need to start over."

Hermione quickly referenced the chart. Their potion was , of course, perfect.

"Lily, you have the bronze stirring rod?"

"Uh huh. I can stir while you add the crushed moly."

Hermione carefully tipped the blue blossoms into the potion as Lily stirred in an inverse figure-eight pattern.

"And now we decrease the temperature by 7.9 degrees, and go back to the standard eight stir pattern," Hermione narrated as she adjusted the heat under the cauldron. "I'll set the timer for four minutes so we know when to add the betony root."

"Sounds good. Have you measured out the dittany yet?"

"No, I'll do that now."

Crouching down to get her eyes level with the crystal beaker, Hermione poured out 14.15 milliliters of dittany.

"And now we wait," she proclaimed as the potion shifted from lavender to pale pink.

The timer dinged, and Hermione added the betony root and the dittany as Lily continued to stir. A surreptitious glance around the classroom showed that they were the farthest along, and had the best potion. Hermione huffed. Malfoy's potion was irritatingly good as well, albeit not quite as perfect as Hermione and Lily's.

Smiling to herself, Hermione took over the stirring pattern as Lily adjusted the flame

under the cauldron.

A floral scent drifted in from behind them. "Miss Granger, Miss Moon, how is your

potion progressing?" Professor Selwyn asked.

"We've just finished stage three, so we're on track."

Professor Selwyn nodded. "Your consistency looks correct, as does the color. Remember to keep a sharp eye out for mist rising from the surface of your potion - the faster you blend in the clover honey and remove the potion from the heat, the better result you will get."

Hermione and Lily nodded.

"Keep up the good work."

Professor Selwyn walked away in a swirl of robes. Hermione and Lily grinned. While Professor Selwyn was far more free with compliments than Professor Snape had been the previous year, she wasn't by any means overly generous with them, and one truly did need to earn her praise.

"Did you measure out the clover honey?" Hermione asked.

"Yes - it's right here."

"Okay. Help me keep an eye on the potion."

They stared at it intensely for several minutes until a pale white mist rose off the surface. Clover honey was rapidly added, and the cauldron was removed from the flame as the potion inside slowly turned into the correct shade of sunset orange. Hermione carefully filled a vial with it, labeled it with their names, and brought it to the front of the classroom where the professor greeted it with a nod of approval. Hermione beamed all the way back to her seat, quickly packed her bag, and headed out of the classroom with Lily close behind her.

"Hermione?" Lily started as they climbed up the stairs.

"What?"

"If I asked you a question, you'd be perfectly honest with me, right?"

"Of course!"

"Okay. So you'd tell me if there was anything up with Harry's whole Parselmouth thing from a couple months ago?"

"What!?"

"The Parselmouth thing from Dueling Club. It kind of blew over, and it felt very hush-hush."

"Oh. There was nothing to it, really. Why?"

Silence hung in the air for a moment. "No reason," Lily said awkwardly. "I was just wondering. Anyway, what do you think our chances are of winning the Quidditch tournament?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. Something seemed off, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Why had Lily changed the topic so quickly?

"Er, our chances are alright," she began. "The Durmstrang Seeker, Viktor Krum, could be a big problem, though…"

Slytherin Common Room

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

14 February 1993

Ron laid down a pair of cards and watched with glee as Theo got his eyebrows singed when he leaned over to place his own pair.

"Ha! Gotcha!"

"I don't like you."

Ron snickered. "Your turn, Blaise."

Blaise set down a pair of manticore cards - which didn't explode - then Harry laid down a pair of mountain troll cards that did. Ron narrowly avoided catching the blast after Theo played his last two cards, marking him as the winner.

"You guys want to play Classical or Bavarian?" Harry asked. "I don't like this version."

"I'm good with Classical - Bavarian Snap is too much effort to set up."

"Same here."

"Good, Classical Snap it is. Ron, you can play first. "

Blaise shuffled the cards and placed them in a stack. "Ready?"

Ron drew his wand. "Yes."

Blaise double tapped the stack. "Go!"

The cards began self-dealing, and Ron started tapping matching cards, eyes darting every which way. There were matching Hebridean Blacks, giant squids, sphinxes…

"Time's up! Thirty-one points," Blaise said, scribbling Ron's score on a piece of parchment. "Harry, you want to go next?"

Unsurprising, Harry topped Ron's score with a whopping forty-four points. Blaise narrowly edged out Ron with thirty-three points, while Theo managed to only score thirty.

"I like this version," Harry commented. "We should definitely play this one again."

"You only like Classical because you win every time," Ron complained.

Harry smirked. "What can I say? I didn't become a Seeker because I had reflexes like a Flobberworm."

Theo chuckled.

"I didn't mean it that way!"

"Of course you didn't."

Harry made a face. "You're a bad influence."

"Theo! How could you!" Blaise proclaimed dramatically. "Corrupting young Harry like that…"

"Yeah, Harry being so impressionable and all, I don't even know if he should be playing Snap," Ron added helpfully. "He might turn into Finnegan, and make everything explode."

"Oh, shut it."

Theo adopted a serious expression. "We're just looking out for you, you know, we kind, caring Slytherins…"

"Are you sure you weren't all meant for Hufflepuff?"

"Nah," Blaise said. "Yellow would look terrible with my skin tone."

"Now you sound like Malfoy."

"Bletch. I am superior to his royal Malfoyness."

"Somebody better tell him that."

Blaise sighed. "I've been telling him that since first year, don't you know."

"Yes," Ron said quickly.

"Gee, you didn't have to think much about that, huh?"

"'Course not."

"You're terrible, Ron. Now, who's started on that Transfiguration homework?"

Theo, Harry, and Ron groaned in unison.

"We should probably get on that, then."

Professor Snape's Office

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

14 February 1993

Hermione knocked on the office door with a degree of trepidation. She'd received a note during dinner saying Professor Snape wanted to speak with her, but she'd been given no further information.

The door swung open, and Hermione jumped. "Professor? You wanted to see me?"

"Obviously."

He motioned her into his office, and she settled herself into the chair in front of his desk. "I have received correspondence from my contact regarding your timeline of Professor Lockhart's exploits. His data corresponds with your own."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Really?"
"Do I appear to be jesting?"

"No…"

"The question now is what you wish to do next. You have information exposing an international celebrity as a fraud. I would suggest exercising the utmost caution with your decision."

Hermione thought for a moment. "I was talking with Hector Umbridge over the Yule holiday about it," she began. "He thought I should go to the Prophet. His mum knows a reporter there - Rita Skeeter."

Professor Snape's jaw tightened imperceptibly. "Are you familiar with Rita Skeeter's work?"

"A bit."

"And are you familiar with her reputation?"
"I know she's know as a gossip journalist."

Professor Snape sighed. "Skeeter does not have the most sterling reputation among journalists. She is equally likely to help you as she is to hurt you, and she nearly always twists the truth."

"No offense intended, sir, but I think the truth here is about as sensational as you can get. I'm not sure she could make it any more dramatic."

"She could damage your own reputation," Professor Snape pointed out.

Hermione tapped her fingers idly. "Is there any way I could protect myself against that?"

"Nothing legal."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Do you think the benefits she'd gain by being the person to break the story would outweigh her desire to slander me?"

"I do not know. You will have to weigh the risks yourself. The presentation of your request would certainly play a role in her willingness to aid you."

Hermione took a deep breath. "I want to go through with it. Will you help me?"
Professor Snape smiled sinisterly. "Of course. The first step will be to draft a letter…"

A/N: Only three chapters remaining in White Knight...

Keep all the review love coming - the next volume in the series has a much more complex plot, and writing has been taking quite a bit of finessing thus far. Any and all positive words would be greatly appreciated!