"Your turn."
"Shut up." Stefan glared at Igor over their restless chess pieces. "I'm thinking."
Igor watched the older boy search the board for weakness.
There. A twitch of the mouth, a murmured command – his knight galloped forward, seizing Igor's queen.
"Check, Karkaroff."
Igor promptly ordered a bishop into place behind the knight. "Checkmate."
Stefan stared at the board. Then, realizing his error, he offered a congratulatory glare and rose, stalking away. His silence proved his fury at losing to a third year.
Igor smirked. He didn't hold pieces well, but was excellent at covering his tracks in a pinch.