Hello, everyone! My English is a work in progress, but I hope to start writing in this language eventually... Maybe even translate some of my stories... This little one is my first attempt... If you notice any mistake, let me know!
Enjoy! Hope you like it!
He was never a great chess player in his youth. There were, after all, more important things to worry about.
School, magic, her few friends, a dark lord and her.
No, he never really had the time and subtlety, essential fundamentals, to become a great strategist. In this his old friend excelled much more.
But at that place and at that moment, after so long, trapped in a cold dungeon deep within a fortress that, for all practical purposes, had long since ceased to exist, there was little else he could do.
Loneliness.
Between the prison of his childhood and the prison of his adult life there was the briefest sigh.
Only he knew how upsetting it was not to feel flustered to be thrown here.
His only company…
Well, it was an entirely different story.
The Evans Gambit.
One of the few bloody game openings he remembered the name, despite having been exposed to them to exhaustion during his short adolescence.
He remembered only by a sadistic coincidence, by the way. It was his dead mother's last name.
His opponent, companion, jailer, mortal enemy and confidant liked to insist, only when playing with Black, of allowing him to advance the pawn to b4.
He, in turn, never resisted temptation.
"I don't understand, Potter." The placement started with a lie. "You sit on that same cold stone, day after day, play the same game to exhaustion, with the same undisposed opponent... Every day... Without a fail... Without caring..."
"Your point?"
He growled uncomfortably and unnecessarily.
"Why are we still here?" A scathing grin gleamed on his pale face, bloodshot red eyes, bedecked only by the rawest cruelty. "I mean, why are you here?"
The lack of response sounded like an answer.
"You live like you play, Harry Potter..." pondered the dark lord. "Hungry for sacrifice, for risk, for romance... This thirst to feel something, anything..."
The bloodcurdling laughter echoed insipidly through the inert stone, only to his accustomed ears.
"Knight in f6, check."
"Pawn of g by f6." The opponent replied coldly, without even facing the board. "It's that kind of mindset that got you here." He warned. "Do you still remember?"
"I remember than?"
The younger man countered, never taking his eyes off the game, the only thing that still mattered.
"Remember her eyes?"
Inevitably the blue glowed in her turbulent memories.
It's an ordinary autumn day, a little cooler than usual this time of year, but again, this is Scotland.
You are among your peers, as small as usual, trying not to be seen, trying to go unnoticed.
She gets out of the carriage like some kind of divinity, everyone notices her, everyone wants her to notice them.
Not you.
You look and fall in love with her, but you keep wishing she wouldn't look back.
His prayers are not answered, her gaze collides with yours.
The blue color is all you see.
"I will never forget."
However, the memory felt a little more faded than last time.
He knew it and therefore his implacable adversary knew it too.
The red-eyed man's sharp smile didn't hide anything.
"Whatever, e5 for f6." Played the younger one, trying to get rid of the bad sensations that were slowly taking over his thoughts. "This looks familiar."
"I have no idea what you mean, young Harry." The man shot back, with a knowing look. "But I think I understand you a little better now, after all, you're just a sum of all the things that happened in your life, an unfortunate victim of circumstance."
"Nothing that came out of your filthy mouth makes any sense." Finally, the green-eyed one answered, annoyed by the venomous speech of the implacable adversary. "I've heard it countless times, nothing changes, nothing ever will."
"Rook on g8." Played the other. "Nothing changes because that's what it's about. You're just an insignificant spirit these days, trapped here, in this castle of illusions... You may not have built the walls that hold you, but you might as well have, considering your insistence to keep them standing."
"Just shut up!"
"Remind me one more time, Harry Potter." Insisted the figure of the Dark Lord. "What are we doing here?"
"Rook on d1."
"You are very brave for a little boy." She teases you, intoxicating you with the unusual closeness, taking your mind to places that not even you, before today, knew of the existence. "All these fire in your eyes..."
"It's not true." You speak, not caring that you are attacking yourself. "There is nothing special about me, I am nothing different from everyone else."
Her accent makes you flinch as usual.
"Your eyes are different, they are green, very, very green." Not that it matters, you stop yourself from saying. "What are these handcuffs that are holding you, Harry, if not illusions? Your eyes are not the eyes of someone who would let himself to be stopped."
"It's rude to get lost in thoughts of another time while we're talking."
The youngest mentally cursed himself for his carelessness.
"I didn't get lost, I'm thinking about the game."
"The game..." pondered the red-eyed one. "It's always about the game, all there is the game, all that's left is the game." The chanted words almost sounded like a prayer. "Your trap, at first glance, seems harmless like you, Harry Potter, but I don't fall for cheap tricks, not in yours at least."
The queen moved to f3 of her own volition, capturing the knight and attacking the pawn structure on g2.
"What do you do when your whole world threatens to collapse around you, Harry Potter? What did you do?"
You have your kisses stolen under the moon.
You spin in her arms, dancing at midnight.
You hold her in your arms on a winter's morning, as careless and naked as her can be.
You embrace her in front of your peers in the main hall.
You delight in being introduced to her parents.
You smile as you introduce her to your family.
His family.
You smile as you introduce her to him.
The poisoned laugh, out of pity, pulled him out of his confused thoughts again.
"Rook captures on e7."
The younger man spoke through a laugh, surprising his opponent.
"An old dog can learn a few tricks sometimes." Despite the calm tone, the opponent seemed, for the first time, to consider the pieces in front of him. "How old are you now, Harry Potter? Thirty-four? Thirty-five?"
"No."
The youngest only replied.
A cruel smile grew on the red-eyed face.
"Yes... I remember now... It's been quite a while..." Consideration gleamed in the ruby colored eyes. "Do you still hope to succeed? After all this time?"
No, he doesn't.
After all, he had already lost everything that mattered, there was only the game.
And, of course, his infinite years.