Hi everyone! It's been a while, I know. Writing sports is more frustrating than I thought, especially ones I'm not familiar with, or are fictional. But, I finally got this chapter complete, I hope you enjoy it.

Also, sorry for all the swearing.

"Aannnnd checkmate!" exclaimed Luz, snapping Willow out of her exhausted stupor, the Human's wide grin beaming on her face with a twinkle in her chocolate eyes. Sitting in the cafeteria of Hexside, Luz and the rest of the gang munched on their demon chicken sandwich, Luz and Gus sitting opposite each other, and Willow and Amity doing the same. Between the four friends, a battered chessboard lay, with peach and brown pawns and knights and bishops sprawled across the table. On the board itself, with his king stuffed between pesky pawns and his own queen, Gus knew there was no getting out of the rook's check.

"Ahh gees, I really thought I had you this time!" Gus poutilly added, his adorable cheeks flustering at the loss. Having just finished a gruelling lesson on Jupiter Fairy Traps, the blue-haired witch didn't know what she got herself into when transferring to the Plant Track. Regardless of the ache in her shoulders from both her early morning…activities, and wrestling a carnivorous plant beast, she did her best to comfort her young friend. "Don't stress about that Gus, you did MUCH better than last week at Eda's place" Willow tried, placing a hand on his shoulder and flashing him a smile. Of course, this worked, and Gus' spirits immediately rise at the gesture.

"Hmm, yeah, you got Luz in a pretty precarious position with that queen pin you pulled." Amity adds, practicing her developing supportive attitude on the kid while chewing on her sandwich, glad to not be viciously chastised for speaking with her mouth full. "I'm surprised she managed to win actually, playing a queen down. You're both pretty great at this game" she concludes, smiling at Luz, and immediately slightly choking on her lunch at the Humans' grin response, going tomato in the process.

"Thanks Amity, you're too kind." Luz concludes, giving her a quick squeeze. "Gus is the real star in this game. Hats off to you, good sir." She continues with a British accent on the second sentence, bowing and removing her imaginary hat to the Illusion Track student. Without skipping a beat, "Now, time for Willow and Amity to show us what they're made of!", proclaiming this with a clap of the hands, and a bang on the table.

'Me? I-I can't play chess!' Willow thought to herself, her lips curling into an anxious scowl at the idea. 'Luz only showed us how it worked a coupla days ago. Both Amity and Gus are pretty much geniuses, and Luz has been playing this game her entire life. Compared to them, I'm…' Stopping short on her troubled train of thought, Willow's mind was plagued with visions of her forgetting the correct movement of the knight, or getting the castling procedure wrong, or mistakenly giving up pawns for free.

Catching her friend's self-doubting facial expression and noting the young witch's tensing biceps with her hands under the table, Amity stealthily motions towards the cause of this action with her own, and gives them a gentle squeeze. Shyly glancing up at her smiling face and golden eyes, Willow's heart lifts with the implied message behind Amity's gesture. 'None of us here thinks you're any less than the amazing witch you are. You're capable and talented, let's just have fun.' With the assurance of her friends' care and support, Willow gives her smiling opponent's hand a soft squeeze of her own, before setting her mind to destroying the witch.

A coupla minutes into the game, and Amity is on a vicious attack. Their piece count is equal, queens were traded early, and the green-haired witch is missing a knight, while Willow has lost her trusty light-square bishop. However, her opponent is safely castled, while her own king is precariously still in the centre of the board. Being the first time she's actually playing the game, Willow expected Amity's win to be swift, decisive, and practically instant. Surprisingly however, she's lasted much longer than she thought she initially would. That streak of good luck was going to end soon though, she could feel it in her funny bone.

"Hey Mittens, what're you up to, playing with…dolls? Tokens? I dunno what I'm looking at" chirps Edric excitedly. Initially nudging Amity's head with the knuckles of his fingers, he slowed to a gradual halt at the scornful faces unexpectedly crossing everyone's face at his out-of-nowhere greeting, his own face going from Labrador-happy to blobfish-droopy in an instant. "Shut th-shut up Edric, I'm focusing over here!" She annoyingly responds without even looking up, taking a deep think while softly drumming the table with her fingertips. Willow, having been intently focused on the game herself, quickly darts her green eyes upwards, surprised by the twins' magical appearance, before snorting an almost-giggle at his heart-breaking droopy face.

"Hey my dude, they're playing a heated game of chess, hence the hostility. It's a human thing." Luz whispers, sneakily motioning the twin closer, trying her best not to disturb the two witches currently engaged in intense battle. "They really need to focus right now, that's why I'm whispering." "Oh shit, sorry guys, my bad." Edric solemnly apologizes to his still-fuming sister, before rubbing his imaginary stubble in mock thought himself.

"It looks pretty damn complex" he softly added, squinting his golden eyes, trying his best to understand the mechanics of the mysterious game. "Hehe, it really is dude" Luz replies, before continuing, a tad bit too excitedly, "It's a game of wit, creativity, and raw mental endurance. The goal is to position your own pieces in such a way that, when attacking the king, it doesn't have a way to survive. Once you do that, you win!" She exclaims, a bit too loudly. "Sorry" she quickly adds, blushing when Amity gives her her patented cold stare, before the witch promptly turns away, hiding a blush attack of her own.

"Damn, humans are pretty much nuts, making weird board games about Regicide. If we played something like that, Belos would throw a fit. Or well, something much wor…never mind" Edric nervously concludes with a chuckle, cutting himself off from the rest of the sentence, realising the awkward stares resting on Luz at that moment. Having finally understood what the hell his sis and their friend are doing, he excitedly motions his twin and her girlfriend towards the group. "Come check this out Em, Mittens and her friend are playing some nuts human game about murdering royalty in cold blood." Initially annoyed at having to interrupt her eye-staring and lips-locking session with her boo, the green-haired girl's eyes filled with almost morbid curiosity at Luz' explanation of the concept behind the weird game.

Soon, the Jerbo and Barkus tag-team joined the mix, and all of a sudden, without any explanation, the entire table was swarmed by curious eyes. All of which seemed to focus in on poor-old Willow. 'Oh cramity, this is way too much people' she anxiously thinks to herself, her darn self-doubt creeping up inside again, like a nasty worm crawling inside her head. Before entirely occupying her concentrating mind however, remembering Amity's imagined kind words, she almost violently stuffed those bad thoughts back where they belonged, and focused on the game.

A coupla plays in, and Amity seems to be on the verge of a triumphant victory. Willow's sad king is wide open, and the green-haired witch's bishop pair slices clean across its path to escape. 'Just like all the times Boscha cornered me against my locker, making me late to class' she considers, a sad pout crossing her lips. Her opponent hasn't made a decisive finishing move yet, but it's only a matter of time.

Clearing her aching head of all…not so good thoughts, Willow closes her eyes, bites her bottom lip, and follows the advice given to her good friend Jeremony. Taking deep breaths, in through the nose, out by the mouth, soothingly calm thoughts enter her mind. 'Relax Real-Willow. You're doing great. Why don't you study the board, and look for an advantage?' 'Thanks Amity-Willow, I'll do just that',she replies to the peaceful voice in her head. In this blossoming state of mental zen, the Plant Track witch notices her opponent's king nicely tucked in the king-side corner of the board, along with four strong pawns defending their lord from all attackers. A knight stands guard at the entrance on the eighth rank, protecting the area from any rival pieces daring to threaten their King.

'Hmmm, a little TOO nicely tucked, perhaps' Willow slyly remarks in her mind, a genius plan developing at the statement. 'First off, that knight protecting the king makes it impossible for me to attempt a straight-out attack. I've got to get it off the eighth rank' she concludes. And with that idea acknowledged, she rams her dark-squared bishop into the pawn guard, capturing the token on the g-file. 'Knowing Amity, she wouldn't dare capture my bishop with the King, it'd leave her "perfectly" structured King defense in ruins'.

Amity, knitting her perfect eyebrows together in a frown, glares at the tarnished board, not seeing any purpose to the blatant bishop sacrifice. While pressing her tongue against her pointed fang, Willow's small witch-ears perk at the unconscious tell-tale the Blight performs when throwing caution to the wind. Amity bravely, and without thinking, captures the bishop with her knight, and with that, weakens the defense of the eighth rank.

'Perfect!' Willow exclaims in her mind, coming this close to clapping her hands together in reality, but halts before doing so. 'Can't let on that I have a plan'. Keeping her feigned stoic composure in check, she gently slips her rook to the g-file, aligning it with the stationary knight, and pinning it. Amity confidently pushes her passed pawn on the queen's side, thinking her king is safe, and not bothering to protect the knight. Besides, it's not like Willow has any pieces on the King's side to attack the pinned knight with anyway.

Willow isn't planning on attacking the knight. A knowing grin appears on her face, shocking everyone in attendance. As cool as a demon cucumber, she assuredly picks up her second rook off the d-file, and gently shifts it to the open a-file, eying the completely barren eighth rank for the kill. Amity blinks. Luz squeals. And a look of confusion crosses the face of everyone else. There's nothing stopping the rook from smashing through to the eighth rank. The King can try running away, but the three pawns and trapped knight protecting it, also blocks it from reaching any semblance of safety. And Amity could certainly try blocking the a-rook's path with her free-pieces, but with no defenders, the rook will just gobble them up on its path to the King. There's nothing the poor witch can do but throw a coupla meaningless checks at the grinning girl.

With a surrender and upbeat smile, Amity shakes Willow's hand. She won.

"And that's why she punched him." "Knocked him out you mean. Cause of a girl?" "Not just any girl: Willow!" "Heh, naaah. Willow's cool and all, but there's no way Boscha likes her. Remember the trash can episode?" "Dude, he was talking about asking her out before he got slugged. I was there! I'm telling you, she overheard him and went crazy as a result."

Of course, Boscha doesn't hear any of this. After the incident, she's noticed a marked drop in fanfare from the freeloaders. Entering the school's halls, there're no longer grovelling from scores of teens wanting to make good with the Banshees captain. Of course, there're still the ghosts of whisperings heard throughout the hallways as she heads to class, but they're lacking the starry-eyedness she'd expect. As a matter of fact, over the past couple of days, the admiration in the eyes of her peers has been replaced with piercing scorn.

'I don't need them anyway. I'm awesome regardless of what those worms think.' She subconsciously acknowledges while staring up ahead. While waiting for Skara and the rest of her so-called friends in the cafeteria, downing some random slob the school chefs served up, she studies the scene in front of her intently. It's half-a-witch and her new friends. She doesn't know what the hell they're up to, it seems they're huddled around their table, discussing the end of the world or something. But no one's making a peep.

Profiling Willow from the side, she notices the penetrating look of determination on her cute face. The way her ears gently sway back and forth like a butterfly practicing the use of its newly endowed wings. The way her cheek dimples cave in on themselves when pursing her lips together in intense concentration. Her surprisingly broad shoulders lifting and relaxing with every calm breath she takes.

The roar of praise and approval from the group abruptly breaks her out of the spell. Ignoring the thoughts that, not a second ago, plagued her mind, she quickly tears her eyes from the witch and the score of approval and head pats adorning her, and centres her eyes on her "meal". Ignoring its contents, she runs through her planned play for tonight's game.

Staring down the dork centre-forward of Glandus High's grudgby team, Boscha steels her resolve amidst her growing anxiety. Usually, the stands are filled to the brim with students from both schools. But today, they're packed with the blue and grey colours of her rivals. There're barely any yellow and blue sweaters around. And it's all her fault.

A couple of minutes into the game, and Hexside is in the lead, but not by much. Even with the Banshees captain scoring both throws for her team, her head just isn't in the game. Given the fact that the Banshees absolutely demolished Glandus just a couple of weeks ago, having a whole 20-point margin by half-time, this narrow score difference of 12-14 really rubs the Potions Track student the wrong way.

With the field booming with cheers for the enemy, she is violently interrupted from her sour thoughts by Skara calling her name. Seeing the grey-haired witch put all her effort into power-throwing the ball from across the massive playing field, she makes the jump and barely catches the ball in mid-air, the force of the throw jerking her back a couple of feet before landing with a grunt, her beefy legs unusually buckling from the impact.

To her surprise, it turns out she was much closer to the enemy goals than she realised, somehow blacking out with those agitated thoughts of hers between the last play. Thus, sprinting at almost super-witch speed, she prepares herself for another hat-trick win, dodging and weaving between the obstacles blocking her from victory.

After shoulder-ramming through a measly abomination created by some Glandus scum, with the goal inching closer and closer by the second, she spots Amelia a fair distance away to her left; she seems to be frantically signalling at something. Following her directions, the Glandus' sole defender appears a few feet before her, separating her from her goal. With a fiery glare in her eyes, Boscha rushes forward with renewed invigoration, shifting her focus from the post to the defender, the air around her blistering as she prepares to light the ball ablaze.

"Boscha, I'm open!" she hears in the distance, the lime-haired witch desperately calling for her to pass the ball. 'Nah uh, this one's mine' she mentally retorts, ignoring the calls and preparing to chuck the sizzling fire-ball in her hand. Not noticing the tiny crimson spell circle her opponent made, she rears her hand back, menacingly smirking at the thought of the fire ball passing over the defender's stupid head to another goal, with the worm unable to do a single thing about it.

With the ball just about to leave her hand, a sudden, soothing sound mysteriously enters her mind, like a siren's seductively whispered sweet song. Squinting uncomprehendingly, she suspiciously eyes the defender, a malicious grin of her own adorning her face, as her breath hitches abruptly and her legs leadify. "Oh fuck!" she appalledly exclaims, horrified as her sense of balance just…switches off and, without time or the dexterity to stop the play, the ball soars through the air, missing the goal by a massive margin.

Shaking her head, Amelia runs off to collect the out-of-play ball, eying Boscha with…is that disdain?

"You guys are fucking…WORTHLESS!" Boscha hysterically exclaims, eyeing the rest of her team, her friends, with disgust and almost hatred. "That was the worst game of Grudgby I've seen in my entire life! That stupid human and her stupid dork stupid friends coulda played a better game out there! I don't even know why I let you play on the team, what with the shitty plays you were making!"

"Come on Boscha, Luz isn't even all that bad, what with-" "Shut it, Skara! You especially, what with you tripping over a fucking leaf like a piece of shit, we coulda won if you'd just pass the ball to me instead of dropping on your stupid face like a ditsy klutz!" Feeling a pang of guilt watching the Bard student twitch while holding the wet bandage covering her still-bleeding nose, Boscha unceremoniously shifts on her feet, feeling like she might have just crossed another line.

"Skara's really hurt, you know" Amelia softly whispers, eyeing the ground while tapping her fingers together in, what appears to be annoyance. "What?" Boscha incredulously starts, shifting her focus to the girl. "Skara didn't "trip over a f- a leaf", her foot got wrapped by one of their vines. And anyway…it's not like you'd have scored anyway." She says the last part in an almost deathly whisper, trying her best to look anywhere but the captain's fuming expression.

"What did you s-" "Ms. Malfoy, if I may have your attention for a moment." Freezing, Boscha's mind instantly blanks at the sound of the familiar, eerily professional vernacular of the butler behind her. Fear creasing her face, she spots the look of sincere pity crossing the features of her teammates as she turns to the gentleman, dreading the blank, distant eyes of her family's head servant boring into her. Finally facing the man, she takes a sharp breath as he continues, "Your mother requests an audience with you at dinner. She suggests you not be late."