Hi again! Here's the next chapter. No smut this time either, but I promise, next chapter (the last one) will be worth the wait. Longest, smuttiest chapter I've ever written. :) Another shout-out to Accio-Broom for being an awesome beta!

Thanks for the reviews! They make my day.

Chapter 2:

It was Ron's go first.

Hermione had never seen Ron wait so long when making a move to begin the game. It was as if this were a Grandmaster Championship, and even before the game started, he was strategizing.

Finally, ever so slowly, he reached for a pawn. The alcohol in Hermione's system kept her alert, allowing her to be brave enough not to back down. She did, however, notice Ron's rigid frame. It didn't look anything like it usually did when he was playing with the other challengers. His body wasn't splayed back comfortably; it was hunched over as if folding in on itself.

"Ohhh no. I do not think so." Harry pushed his way through the crowd building up by the doorway. Ron's eyes lifted, almost relieved as he slid his pawn back quickly into its original starting location. Ron looked up at Hermione and shrugged, as if Harry's word was final, and there was nothing for it—their game had to be stopped.

Harry didn't wait. He grabbed Hermione's wrist and yanked her from the chair, dragging her out of the room. Harry ignored the frustrated onlookers.

"Harry, stop-" Hermione argued as Harry pulled her through the maze of Grimmauld Place. They made their way into the dining room, where Ginny was laughing at something Dean had just done.

"Ginny, emergency. Kitchen, now." He said without another word. Ginny glanced over, then chased after the pair, waving off the laughing group in the dining room.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked, out of breath and slightly flushed.

"I'm not sure. Harry?" Hermione gave him a pointed look. Despite the precarious position she was putting herself and Ron in, she by no means intended to be sidelined.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Why are you doing this to me?" He whined.

"To you?" Hermione guffawed. "What does any of this have to do with you?"

"Who do you think is going to have to deal with the aftermath of Ron when you finish the game?" He asked in an uncharacteristically high voice. "Me! That's who."

Ginny grinned. "Oooh. Did you challenge him in Strip Chess?" She elbowed Hermione with a wicked grin.

Hermione nodded. "He's gotten far too superior about the whole thing."

"I couldn't agree more." Ginny flashed her pearly whites. "I wish I had been there when you did it. I bet he nearly splinched himself."

Hermione gave a noncommittal shrug, the edges of her lips turning into a smile.

"You can't do it, Hermione. You two have been flirting with each other for over a year. Why did you have to choose a public scene to have this conversation?"

"What conversation are you referring to?" She asked, ignoring the glare Harry sent her way.

"Oh, come on, Harry. He's the one issuing out ridiculous challenges. It's about time he gets a taste of his own medicine." Ginny joined in, grabbing Hermione around the shoulders.

"Exactly." Hermione nodded. "Besides, I've been practicing."

Harry sent Ginny a pleading look. "You're supposed to be on my side here."

"I would have challenged him ages ago, but I can't think of anything worse than forcing my brother to strip...or watch me strip," Ginny added.

"You're both evil," Harry grumbled. "I'm going to have to pick these pieces up for years to come."

"Now, now." Ginny laughed. "Just because I want her to play doesn't mean I don't want her to go in unarmed."

Both Hermione and Harry looked over at her, curious.

"Let's go!" Ginny dragged Hermione back around the corner and through random rooms.

"Hey, what are you -" Ginny heard voices call as she grabbed a necklace from Natalie McDonald, a jacket from off of the sofa, a top-hat from a random stranger. All through the house she moved, lifting clothes and piling them into Hermione's arms.

"Oi - Stewart! Give me your shirt!" Ginny demanded, holding out her hand.

"You've lost your mind." He scowled. "I paid 30 Galleons for this shirt. There's no way-"

"Now, or I'll hex you." Ginny reiterated, not letting up.

Stewart looked between Hermione and Ginny, then began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Just be gentle with it." He conceded.

"I owe you one." Harry consoled Stewart as he followed Ginny and Hermione through his house.

When they finally returned to the Library, Hermione had multiple layers, including shirts, jackets, necklaces and hats. She imagined this is how Dobby would have looked after he'd received his new wardrobe of clothes. She was drowning in fabric.

Ginny dragged her over to Ron, who had been discussing something with Mariette Edgecombe.

The minute Ron registered her outfit, his face softened and relaxed. Was he really that concerned about seeing her in her underthings?

"Well, what have we here?" Ron asked, giving Hermione a lopsided grin and smug once over.

Hermione shot him a 'don't start' glare and put her hands on her hips.

"Your worst nightmare." Ginny cut in, sneering at her brother. "Get ready to be de-throned."

"Well then, let's do this," Ron said, stealing a friend's shot of Firewhiskey and sitting down on his stool.

Hermione lowered herself down, trying to reduce the awkwardness of squatting with so much on.

"Get ready to say it." Ron hummed over to Hermione as he reached for his pawn and pushed it forward.

"In your dreams. There's going to be a new King tonight." Hermione retorted, moving her piece to match his and officially starting the game.

The beginning portion of the game was quite simple, and Hermione remained focused on his moves and countermoves. She had observed his games enough times to know his most common strategies, and she was ready for them.

She watched, trying to hide her delight as he guided his pieces straight into a trap.

She knocked over the first piece and smiled up at him sweetly. There were a few whistles and claps in the background—everyone watching hungrily for Ron to bite the dust.

"It's just a shoe, Hermione. No need to get a big head about it." He tried to joke, but he scanned the Chessboard quickly as it dawned on him what she had done.

He bit his lip but kept his features soft as he moved his pieces. Luckily for Hermione, to escape her trap, he would have to lose quite a few more of his players in the process.

One by one, Ron lost the other shoe and his socks. Then, to Hermione's surprise, his shirt was next. In the beginning, Ron had worn an extra undershirt, but she guessed as he continued his winning streak, he cared less about layering up against opponents. That would be a mistake tonight.

Hermione held her breath as he met her eyes, then he slowly pulled the maroon cotton tee up over his head. Hermione tried to keep her face steady, but all she wanted to do was melt into him.

Getting a front-row seat to Ron's striptease had her hot. The alcohol made it that much harder to stop her mouth from watering. Her eyes roved over his muscular arms as he pulled his shirt over his head. His chest was firm and sparked a deep urge within her that she wasn't sure she could control.

Get a grip, Hermione.

A few of the women in the crowd let out humms of appreciation. Ron's cheeks flushed.

For a brief moment, their eyes connected, and Hermione could see his uncertainty, and that same feeling reflected in her eyes as well.

It wasn't until then that Hermione had truly recognized she was in over her head. How was she supposed to concentrate with him sitting in front of her like that? All she could think about were his rippling abs sitting two feet away, taunting her, begging her to touch them.

Hermione knew at that moment that Ron noticed his newfound advantage, and it brought the mischievous look back in his eye.

"How did you know that sequence?" Ron asked her carefully. She used every ounce of willpower to pull her eyes up from his chest to respond.

"I may have read a Chess book or two...or three...or four." She said slyly as she moved her next piece, trying not to let her voice shake.

"Good to know." He grinned deviously. "Means I'm done going easy on you."

Hermione wanted to retort, but her natural ability to bicker and flirt back died in her throat, and she was left with nothing but throaty noises. Instead, she let out a humph, and waited for him to move.

The game lasted ages. Ron always knew Hermione was a skillful Chess player, but she had definitely learned some new moves since they had last played. Hermione watched him bite his lip every so often. Though she was sure he would never admit it, this game was more of a challenge than he had anticipated.

Despite that, Ron had cottoned on to her technique. Subtly and with razor precision, Ron began knocking over her pieces. One by one, Hermione's necklaces, hats, shoes, jackets and more were peeled off.

As the first game in a long time where he had to think over four moves ahead.

"And another one bites the dust." Ron chuckled, knocking over a Rook. Hermione and everyone else in the room could tell that he was fully absorbed in the match. So much so that he hadn't realized how far along they were in the game and how many layers of clothes Hermione had already removed. Ron licked his lips in anticipation.

You could still feel the low vibration of music and conversation in the other room, but in the Library, everyone held their breath. Hermione remained still and could tell that Ron finally felt the silence in the air as he looked around and then at Hermione.

She was staring blankly at the wall next to him, avoiding eye contact. She knew at that moment that it had dawned on him. That he now realized that she would have to decide between losing her shirts or her pants.

Ron's mouth turned into an 'oh', and his throat went dry.

"You…" Ron started, but Hermione didn't give him a chance. She slowly grabbed the bottom of her lilac quarter-sleeve shirt and lifted it slowly up over her head.

"I'm going to need another shot," Hermione asked politely to someone behind her, pretending nothing was amiss. Someone shuffled away behind her as she clasped her fingers in her lap.

She hadn't made contact with anyone, but she felt a slight breeze on her back as someone returned with the shot. She quickly downed it and then used all of her courage to look up at Ron.

He seemed to be steadying himself on the edges of the small table; his mouth clamped shut. Though it was only milliseconds, Hermione caught him staring at her chest, then his eyes flicked up to hers, then back down at the chessboard, where they remained. She could see the vein in his neck pulsing and his teeth clenching.

Hermione folded her shirt and laid it neatly on the floor with the other clothes she'd lost so far and rubbed her arm self consciously.

Ron still hadn't said anything, and she wasn't sure she wanted him to. Instead, she focused on the board and her next move, leaning forward to slide her piece into position.

She heard Ron clear his throat and then he looked up.

"Your move, Ron." She said, attempting nonchalance and failing miserably.

Behind them, there were murmurs, not just about the fact that they were both headed into a very close game, but they were both very close to being completely nude. Ron and Hermione appeared as though they were playing for the Quidditch World Cup.

Nearly twenty minutes went by, and during that time, Hermione and Ron had both lost their trousers. The room was packed with people squeezing in. Harry and Ginny remained in the hallway requesting updates, unwilling to watch their close friends and siblings strip bare.

Hermione and Ron sat staring at the board, now in only their underwear. It was Hermione's go, and she was determined to win the game.

She slid her piece into place, hoping beyond hope that she had managed to turn Ron around enough in the game. If they stayed the course, she would hit him with a checkmate in three moves. A shiver rolled down her back, despite the room being balmy and warm.

Ron sat there hunched and motionless, looking fixedly at the board. Everyone was whispering behind them and randomly calling out piece locations to Harry and Ginny.

Ron stroked his stubbled chin, his eyes darting across the board. Then, they stopped.

Hermione took a careful look up to see what was taking him so long. He was gazing down at one particular piece on the board, unwavering.

Then, he looked up at her. The pain etched in his features was apparent as he looked down and then back up, almost as if he was hoping somehow the pieces on the board had moved when he looked away.

Hermione peered down at the Chessboard with a sinking suspicion, trying to mimic Ron's thought process. Then, as if a light switch had turned on, she spotted it. It was so obvious. His next, perfect move. She had walked right into a trap, and he was about to take her Queen...and her bra.

Both Ron and Hermione looked around the board desperately for another option, but there was none. That was the move, and Hermione was about to lose the game...and her clothes.

Their eyes met again. Ron looked at Hermione for guidance, but she had none. It was the right play. He had won fair and square, and they both knew it.

Ron squinted in pain as he reached for the piece. Hermione's heart was pounding as she reached behind for the clasps on her bra.

She was mortified. How could she be so reckless? The silence in the room was deafening as everyone waited for bookworm Hermione to give everyone an unfettered view of her chest. The alcohol churned uncomfortably in her stomach as if it too knew what she was about to do. She closed her eyes, trying to visit her imaginary happy place.

Before she could unclasp her bra and meet her fate, she was startled by a loud noise from across the table. She opened her eyes, and it appeared as if Ron had been transfigured into a bear ready to attack. He roared in anger as he flipped over the Chessboard, smashing it to the ground next to them. Pieces ricocheted and scattered across the thick carpet.

Hermione stared at him in shock.

"Hey now, poor sportsmanship!" A few of the blokes called out.

Ron ignored the boo's and complaints as he stormed out of the room, pushing through the crowd in just his boxers, leaving his clothes behind.

Hermione was speechless. So much so that she hadn't even tried to cover herself up after he'd gone. She just sat there and stared at where the chessboard once sat. She felt Harry's presence as he carefully placed a jacket over her shoulders.

"Don't say it," Hermione grumbled under her breath to Harry.

"Oh, it's being said." Harry scolded. "I told you so."