Chapter 6: Conceited Counterparts and Chiding Chessmen
The return from Diagon Alley was uneventful, and Harry could feel a collective sigh of relief from Mrs. Weasley and the Advance Guard upon the lot's return to Number 12. Still full from the exquisite lunch at Florian Fortesque's, the student portion of the group waved goodbye, said thanks to the guard and settled themselves in the Library for what they hoped would be a quiet evening. Hermione had grabbed every spell book she had ever owned, settled herself at Sirius' old Mahogany desk and began to put the finishing touches on her summer homework. After many failed attempts to convince Ron, Ginny and Harry to do the same, she finally admitted to defeat and let the comfortable solitude that was knowledge claim her for the evening. Ginny, meanwhile, had settled herself on the Oriental rug and was attempting to introduce Tonic to Crookshanks.
"You do know," pointed Ron, addressing his younger sibling on the floor, "that any attempts of that thing Hermione calls a cat making friends with anything are quite—what's the word I'm looking for, Harry?"
"I believe that word might be 'elusive', Ron," supplied Harry, giving a furtive glance across the room to Hermione. "But look- it seems like they're getting along fine."
Ron scowled and Ginny smiled at the raven-haired boy. Apparently, the memory of being tricked into believing that his previous pet was in fact 'really a rat' by someone as dimwitted as Peter Pettigrew still had not lessened its clenches on Ron's pride.
"Must really be a kitten, then," Ron admitted after quite some time. "Nice choice, Har. I haven't seen Gin that happy in a long time."
"Get used to it, mate. I plan on keeping her happy."
Ron grinned, "You better. You remember our agreement, right?"
"Yes I do, Ron. If I hurt Ginny, you have every right to pummel me into oblivion. But do you remember the other side of that agreement?"
"You know, Harry, I don't quite call an 'other side', no. All I recall is threatening to lock you in that Vanishing Cabinet once we're back at Hogwarts if you hurt my baby sister."
A glare from Ginny went unnoticed by the elder redhead, but she resolved to the fact that Harry would handle it and continued playing with the two cats on the carpet.
"Ah, well, maybe if you will shift your gaze slightly to the right- you will find your memory recalled."
"Oh, and just what might recall this supposed other side of our agreement? How do I know you're not just making this all up?"
"I'd say the rather piercing glare 'Mione is giving you at this moment might just recall that 'other side' for you quite nicely."
Ron turned, and had the grace to look ashamed of himself.
"Sorry, 'Mione. Crookshanks isn't all that bad. I guess I'm just still sore that a cat could see through Scabbers when I couldn't."
"Quite all right, Ronald," she sniffed. "But I hope in the future you will abstain from making any further comments about my Crookey."
Hermione returned to her homework, and Harry grinned cheekily at his best friend.
"Now you remember?"
"Yeah," admitted Ron, sulkily. "I hurt 'Mione and you get to pound me into oblivion."
"Right you are, mate," said Harry defiantly. Then, seeing the hurt in his friend's eyes (presumably from the scathing look he had gotten from his 'one true love' for insulting her cat), Harry considerately changed the subject.
"Fancy some Gobstones, Ron? Or maybe a game of Exploding Snap?"
Ron's disposition immediately brightened. "How 'bout some chess? I thought I saw a really handsome set over in the bookcase."
Knowing that he would lose miserably, but realizing that his friend really needed a 'pick-me-up', Harry agreed. If he was ever going to gain any skill at Wizard's Chess, he might as well learn from someone like Ron.
"Set it up, Ron," and Harry waved his hand to beckon over two of the large floor pillows.
Everyone else in the room was too preoccupied (Ginny with the cats, Ron with the chessboard and Hermione with her books) to notice the wandless magic Harry had just performed. Ron brought over the chess set and Harry noticed just how handsome it was. The black pieces were made of Onyx, and the white were made of Waterford Crystal. Harry didn't have much time to reflect on the finery of the game pieces before Ron interrupted his thoughts.
"White or Black, Har?"
"You pick. Doesn't matter to me."
The game began. After about twelve moves, Ron began to snigger.
"What's so funny?" asked Harry, concentrating on his side of the board.
"Oh, nothing," giggled Ron, obviously lying.
"Spit it out, Ron. If I'm doing something dumb, you should tell me. I can see right through your little act."
"No way! I'm not telling you squat. You may be able to see through my act, but your absolutely BLIND when it comes to the board. You sure you don't need those glasses checked, mate?"
"Fine then. Be that way."
A moment to think, and Harry made his move.
"Bishop Two to C-3."
"Ooh… I am SO going to get you."
"Hold on a second. Don't you dare move a single square, Bishop."
"Oh I don't dare do anything under your idiotic instruction," muttered the Bishop, "as I know it will lead to certain death."
Harry turned to Ron, not hearing what his Chessman had just said.
"What makes you so positive, Ron?" he challenged in outrage; as he couldn't possibly fathom the move Ron could be developing to get his second Bishop.
"Oh, you'll see," smirked the redhead in an all too Malfoy-ish manner.
"Ron!" cried Harry indignantly. "You're supposed to be my friend! How am I supposed to learn this dumb game if you won't help me?"
Ron just shook his head and laughed. "Harry, it's really obvious. If you can't even see it then there's really nothing I can do to help you."
"ARGH! Fine. I'll make a different move then."
"Hey! YOU! Stupid Dolt!" yelped one of Harry's chessmen as he picked it up in the Muggle fashion to place it in another square.
"Put me down! AHH- don't move me there! Can't you see he's going to get me with his Rook? What kind of moron ARE you?"
Harry groaned, but set the Knight back down.
"For your information," he said irritably to the Knight, "Ron's after my Bishop! He just told me so!"
"Gee, Harry," cackled Ron, "I was going to start telling you off, but it looks like your Chessmen are doing a pretty good job of it themselves."
"Who you calling MEN, there Carrot Top?" cried the White Queen, in fury.
"Now, now. You know what I mean. My apologies, Your Majesty."
"That's better."
"HEY!" bellowed Harry. "You can apologize to an inanimate object, but you're going to just sit there and criticize me? Thanks a lot, Ron!"
"Watch who you're calling 'inanimate', buster!" yelled Harry's King in his squeaky Chess-sized voice, shaking his fist.
"You won't think this sword is so inanimate when it's shoved up your—"
"ALL RIGHT!" Harry howled, amidst Ron's giggles. "Knight to E-5 then."
The Black Knight grumbled to his teammates as he moved across the board. "Of all the stupid moves, Scarhead over there picks this one."
Then, audibly to Harry the Knight cried, "Thanks a lot, jerk! Now his PAWN is going to take me! What an insult!"
"What!" Harry gasped. "Oh, shit!"
"HA!" cried Ron, triumphantly, edging his Pawn forward with a simple command of 'Pawn to E-5'.
"CHECK! Eat that, Potter!"
After twenty grueling minutes, Harry lost rather morbidly.
"Play again?" Ron asked eagerly, already setting up the board for another go.
Harry shrugged.
"Sure. I have nothing else to do. All my homework's done."
Ron's jaw nearly hit the floor. Even Hermione broke away from her several texts and essays to give her friend a rare look of pride.
"How!" Ron whined. "We've only been here for like, 3 days and that NEWT entry essay Snape set is nearly impossible!"
"What do you think I do with all my time at the Dursley's, Ron, play with Dudley?" Harry snorted good-naturedly.
"Come on! You're kidding me, right?"
Ron chuckled at his obvious blunder. "Good point, mate. Did his leg ever heal?"
Harry laughed. "Not that I know of, and not that I care, really. Muggle doctors take a really long time to heal broken bones- they've got to re-set the it in the right position, and then you have to wear a cast for something like six weeks."
"What's a 'kah-st'?" asked Ron, confused by the Muggle terminology.
"Never mind, it's not important. It just means that Dudley can't chase around little kids for over a month.
"Ready for another game? I just might beat you this time."
"Yeah, right, Potter. I doubt that."
"You're on, Weasley."
Game two began to commence. Halfway through, Ginny came over to watch, as the cats were curled up on the chair by the fire together enjoying a nap. Politely, out of respect for her boyfriend, she did not offer hints over his shoulder (even though he desperately needed it). Growing up with six brothers, Ginny knew how boys liked to make their own mistakes, and she especially knew how when it came to games of strategy they did not appreciate assistance from girls, no matter how helpful it may be.
"Got your Queen, Harry! Hahahaha! I can't believe you fell for that move again! I just did that last time!"
Harry began to mutter to himself, cursing not only Ron, but also himself for making the same mistake twice. He took much longer to think before making his next move.
"HA! Check!" he cried triumphantly, punching a fist into the air.
Ron didn't bat an eye before moving his King out of danger. With a large, dramatic yawn, he told Harry it was once again his turn.
"Fricken… stupid chess… hate this… had to go and do… such a dumb game…" Harry muttered incoherently.
"What was that, Harry?" teased Ron. "Getting a little upset? Is Big Bad Wonald beating da widdle boy-who-wived at nasty wasty chess?"
"Shut it, Ron."
"Fine. Check."
"WHAT? HOW?"
"Right there."
"Damn. Bishop One to F-6."
"You sure about that, big man?" asked Ron and 'Bishop One' simultaneously, Ron with a cheeky grin and the Bishop with a look of forlorn.
"Yes!" cried Harry, frantically looking over the chessboard and seeing no possible blunders.
"What could possibly be wrong with that move?"
"This," replied Ron, a distinct air of smugness in his voice. "Checkmate."
"Damn!" cried Harry, shoving the board away from himself. "No more. Nope. Not for me. I'm not playing this stupid game EVER again!"
"We'll see about that. I know you too well, Har. You'll be BEGGING to play me again by tomorrow evening in attempts to redeem yourself."
Harry only crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his friend and the Chessmen that continued to taunt him. Ron paraded himself around the room dancing over the couches and singing, "I am the chess MASTER!" loud enough that Mrs. Weasley came up from the kitchen to see what all the commotion was about.
"Ron beat Harry at chess, mum," whispered Ginny, attempting to conceal a giggle to spare Harry's feelings any further trauma.
"Twice," added Hermione, torn between horror and hysterics at the display her beau was putting on in the middle of the library.
"Humph," said Harry, grouchily.
