Note: This chapter has no song. It has no hedgehogs either, but that's beside the point. Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day! Love you all. :)

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Chess

Chess #1

"SILENCE!" Moody's magically magnified voice croaked so loudly that all movement in the common room died down instantly, Hermione forgot to breathe, and even Harry in the Great Hall under Gryffindor Table froze on spot. The following silence was filled with a large beaming smile from the Arbiter as he enjoyed his authority and the fact that everyone's eyes and the three wizard cams were all turned to him. Then, suddenly, something interfered with the perfect silence — a click came from somewhere, a click as if a teacup had been placed on its saucer.

Moody's magical eye moved towards Rowena Ravenclaw's portrait whence he found professor Dumbledore, sitting on the floor, and giving him a thumbs-up.

Then Moody nodded to Flitwick, who was standing on the staircase to the dormitories. This was definitely a pre-arranged signal because the tiny professor turned his back to the common room, took out his wand, and with one wave the illusion spell was lifted from the stairs, and all the spectators ah-ed and oh-ed as they saw the orchestra lined up there.

Upon Flitwick's command a drum roll started, and the trumpets blew. Moody smiled as he bellowed together with the orchestra.

"My dear friends," he said. "We have all gathered here today to watch this first encounter between two Hogwarts' House Champions, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Mr. Draco Malfoy!"

A loud applause followed, and Hermione took the chance to bow towards the Bloody Baron to comment on it.

"They're not the House Champions, this has nothing to do with Houses," she said angrily. "They're just the finalists, aren't they? I know they are."

The Bloody Baron nodded quickly, saying, "Of course," though in actuality he hadn't heard a word she said.

Moody continued. "All personal cameras are forbidden—"

"Not fair!" Colin shouted from somewhere, but as Moody and all others in the room turned towards him, he quickly snapped a photo, before his camera disappeared into his bag.

"As I was saying," Moody resumed, "the cameras are forbidden, there will be no charming, hexing, jinxing, spelling, transfiguring, or any other form of using magic in this room during the match. I remind you to keep total silence. Anyone breaking any of the aforementioned rules or general school rules will be removed from the arena instantly with no questions asked. Is that clear?"

Another applause answered the question, though the Bloody Baron couldn't not remark, "Was that a 'yes' or a 'no'?"

Hermione laughed nervously, not hearing anything he said, but thinking it would be polite to laugh.

"And now," Moody shouted again when the applause died down. There was another drum roll, and the trumpets bellowed again.

"Let the first match begin!"

There were a few ecstatic Ravenclaw students who started applauding to that, but before a moment had passed, Moody drew his wand, gave it a quick flick and the students had disappeared from the hall. That resumed the silence more effectively than anything else could have.

The music from the orchestra had reduced to a barely noticeable hum of violins and flutes, and the crowd saw how Malfoy, who was playing white, sat up in his chair and barked his opening command, "Pawn from b2 to b3."

"That's Larsen's opening," Hermione whispered to the Bloody Baron swiftly, then grabbed hold of the edge of her chair with both hands and started rocking back and forth, mumbling all the time, "I hope he remembers what to do… I hope he remembers what to do…"

"Pawn from e7 to e5," Ron smirked confidently as his pawn stepped two squares forward.

"Good boy," Hermione whispered almost to herself. "That's what Spassky used against Larsen in the first match at the USSR vs. Rest of the World in 1960, and he won in just 17 moves…" but she was interrupted by a sharp elbow between her ribs.

"Shut up!" she could read from Ginny's lips.

"Look who's talking," she hissed back just as silently, but Ginny probably missed this because she had already turned back towards the chess board, the two Champions, and the Arbiter.

Hermione, seeing that her poisonous comment had had no effect whatsoever, let her gaze float over the common room. When she saw that every single person had their eyes trained on the game, she followed example. Moving over the portrait of Ravenclaw her eyes met Dumbledore's, and the dead professor sent her an encouraging smile and raised his cup of tea in toast.

Moody, she noticed, had taken the silvery instrument out from behind his ear, and was using it now to write down the moves on a small piece of really thin and bleached white pocket-sized parchment, which looked a lot like Muggle paper. Now and then the Arbiter would take another small apparatus out from one of his pockets, place it on top of the silvery instrument, turn it there some rounds so that a thin silvery ribbon snaked out of it, then he would take it off and place back in his pocket, only to use the first instrument again for writing down the next moves.

"Queen-side castling," Ron said confidently and watched his King move two steps towards the further side of the board, and the Rook pass the King. With a jolt Hermione noticed the game had moved on much quicker than she had expected, and the positions of the pieces at that moment were completely different from what they had been when she last looked at the board.

"King-side castling," Draco answered to Ron, and his King moved behind his pawns on the opposing side of the board.

An audible "Ah!" came from the orchestra, and one fagot gave a definitely wrong tone. All eyes turned towards him, and Hermione recognized Terry Boot, now completely red in his face, behind the instrument. He had probably been following the game while playing his music, and it seemed Draco's move had been a surprise for him. Hermione smiled happily at his discomfort, remembering how Terry had insulted her.

But a moment later she turned back to the board to see what Ron would do now.

Ron was gaping in surprise; it was clear he had also expected some other reply to his move. He quickly took a gulp of water from his glass, and barked a command to his pieces. Hermione saw his Knight moving forward, right into attack from Draco's Queen. Ron's red ears and swiftly moving eyes betrayed it to Hermione that he, too, hadn't noticed this in time, and was now desperately trying to find a way out of this situation.

Draco smirked knowingly. He was so convinced his unexpected castling had thrown the victory in his hands that he didn't even glance at the board before making the next move. The audience, though, was watching the board eagerly, and almost everyone gasped in surprise when they saw Malfoy's Queen moving forward, and stopping in a position which was under attack from one of Ron's Rooks.

When Ron noticed Malfoy's move, his eyes started inspecting the board at a speed which Hermione though must have been unhealthy. It seemed as if the Gryffindor Champion thought that his opponent was trying to fool him into taking the Queen, and eager to find out any ulterior motive behind that kind of movement. He didn't have any eyes left for Draco, because if he had had, he would have understood there was nothing intentional in his silly mistake.

But Ron didn't know that. Instead he tried to blow Malfoy's game plan by putting one of his Bishops up for sacrifice.

Turn went back to Malfoy, who almost whooped at having kept his Queen, and then started studying the now uncommonly open positions of the chessmen on the board more severely. For a minute or so everyone watched him expectantly, but then soft murmurs of discontent were starting up in the audience.

"Chess is so much slower than Quidditch," Hermione heard someone mutter somewhere behind her. "And I personally like speed."

It seemed that Hermione wasn't the only one who heard it. Before the whispering student got his response from his neighbour, Moody had drawn his wand and flicked it towards him, making him disappear. Professor Flitwick, too, behaved as if he had heard it. He gave some sort of signal to the orchestra, and the pace of their music increased, as did its volume.

Ron, though, seemed not bothered by the pause Malfoy was making. He had calmed down to some effect, and was sitting comfortably in his chair now, fiddling with his House banner, and thumping his fingers on the table. The wizard cams took the chance to take some panorama views of the Ravenclaw common room, and were floating around slowly, trying to catch interesting faces from the crowd, showing the fans who sported most House colours, or zooming in towards professor Dumbledore and Rowena Ravenclaw, the head of the latter resting peacefully on the shoulder of the first, both having long ago switched from tea to red wine.

"Mr. Arbiter!" Malfoy suddenly asked, making all eyes in the hall turn to him, and the three cameras flip around so quickly they almost broke themselves in the process. "Is it possible for me to have some pumpkin juice?" he asked.

Moody played with his silvery pencil, and then turned to Snape and McGonagall.

"Professors?" he asked.

Hermione hadn't given the two professors in the first row much mind after the start of the match, but now that she turned to them she almost snorted with laughter. Snape was sitting on the edge of his chair, white in his face (apart from the still red mark on his cheek), physically keeping his mouth shut with his hand to make sure he wouldn't start shouting counsel to Malfoy. McGonagall, contrary to Snape, was completely red in her face, her hair falling a bit out of her strict bun, the look in her eyes still a little disoriented.

"Of course," Snape said icily. "If the Champion wishes—"

McGonagall nodded with a small smile.

"Mr. Weasley, would you like some?" she asked in a motherly voice, completely ignoring, or just not noticing, the hissing beside her.

Hermione smiled infernally. Snape was almost fuming now, his crooked nose twitching. But Moody had already turned away from them, and proved again his mastery of magic by changing the pure water into pumpkin juice.

Somewhere in the middle Ron had got up from his chair and started pacing his side of the room, hands crossed on his back and head bent low.

Draco took a gulp of his juice, then ordered his chessmen, "Knight from f5 to d6!"

Moody quickly noted it down on his paper, then started drawing number 28 there with his pencil.

"Mr. Arbiter!" Ron asked, plopping down in his chair, almost in identical voice and intonation to that of Malfoy.

"Mr. Weasley?" Moody asked, his normal eye stopping on him, his magical eye swirling around to gaze at Snape.

"May I take a walk?" Ron asked.

"No, you may not!" Draco answered, jumping up from his chair.

"Mr. Arbiter?" Ron asked, more loudly.

"Play the game!" Malfoy insisted.

Ron shot up from his chair, bowing towards Malfoy over the chess board. The chessmen looked up to the two Champions hovering over them. Both Ron and Draco had faces as if they would have liked nothing more than to take the board and pound their opponent with it.

Ron took Draco's glass of pumpkin juice and drained it, giving the Slytherin a challenging look.

Draco answered by drinking up Ron's juice.

Ron threw his chair away and walked over to Malfoy.

"That was my juice," he hissed.

"I know," Malfoy sneered maliciously.

"You don't deserve to play with me!"

"You don't deserve to play against me!" Draco didn't retreat a bit.

"I will—" Ron started angrily, took a deep breath, looked around, and then shook his head.

"What, are you afraid of me?" Draco shouted when Ron didn't finish his sentence.

"No," Ron said, his voice level, but his ears as red as they got. "I just won't play with you."

And with that he turned on the spot, and stomped to the Window Hole.

Draco watched him go like everyone else in the room, and Harry and Neville in the Great Hall. Then, without realising why he did it, he turned angrily to Moody, and shouted to the old Auror, "You play your game if you want!" A moment later he had left the same way as Ron.

The orchestra ended their piece with an overwhelming crescendo, making the silence in the room complete.

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