Ron is, for the first time, unwittingly losing a game of chess. Why? Well, as all he can think of is bushy brown hair and McLaggen…oneshot.
Lament of the Strategist
Rasielle
I'm playing chess, a game of strategy. I've always been good at chess, even if I'm not so great at… other things.
It's not my fault, though; she likes to make things harder for me. I mean, she started dating Krum, of all people – she didn't know anything about him. At least I've known Lavender for some years, known some real things about her. I didn't go hampering after a total stranger…
I move my bishop two places to the diagonal right. Harry smirked and moved his knight over it; and we both watched as it decapitated the unfortunate playing piece.
Such sadistic pieces of stone.
And she can be just as bad, I swear – McLaggen? Cormac McLaggen? He's not even marvelous at Quidditch; did you see how he played at the tryouts? Sometimes I wonder if she's doing it just to spite me.
It's my turn, I think; Harry's watching me expectantly, at least. I stare at the board, stare at my pieces, unable to think straight. There were dust flecks visible in the sunbeams, I notice vaguely; now I'm watching them swirl. How could I have not noticed them before? The sunlight falls onto the board, illuminating the brown wood to make it look… lighter. Light brown… and bushy…the dust motes fly faster, like an ongoing spiral.
"What's on your mind, Ron?" I hear Harry ask in an anxious voice. Well, I didn't think I could answer that if I tried. Chess… dust motes… Hermione…
I feel myself shrug, hear myself not answer. Harry doesn't look convinced, but just like the best mate he is he doesn't mention it. I'm glad. I'm not in any mood to think about that revenge-obsessed, buck-toothed know-it-all…
She's not buck-toothed anymore, a part of me thinks. She's not so annoying anymore, either. She's not the tormenting busybody anymore, not the bush-headed tattletale, not that undateable best friend anymore…
Oh, but she's still undateable. Why? Because she's McLaggen's… not that I should be caring, anyway. I've got Lavender. She should be good enough for me.
"Undateable" is not even a word, is it? I'm going out of my mind here.
Maybe I should stop thinking about her, should stop obsessing. That would be the best course of action; I mean, if I can't talk to her about it…
"What's your next move, mate?" Harry says. "It's still your turn."
I hastily move my queen, not noticing that Harry's knight would then have the clear opportunity to attack her. A stupid move.
"Sure about that one, mate?"
Truth to tell, Harry, I'm not really sure.
--fin.