Note: It's time to play some chess again. But first, I think, it's time to give some credit to all our wonderful readers and reviewers, who have made us say "Yay!" or "Wheee!" many times. :) I'd like to name the latter here now because it's sort of difficult to name all the readers who haven't reviewed (yet) and it always gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling to see my name mentioned like this. So, without further ado, lots of sunshine and happiness and other pretty stuff to Ember Nickel (we do enjoy your singing, even though it sometimes confuses us a bit), caramary (you always have a couple of nice words for us which we truly appreciate), cheekymonkey1994 (don't worry, there will always come the next chapter, until the end, that is), firebirdflame (we do love you, but if you reviewed again, we might start to adore you), bluemoon86 (still with us? keep cool!) and our newest reviewer Elvish-Princess99 (we're very happy you stumbled upon our humble story).

:D

Chess

Chess #2

Days following the Library Incident, Hermione tried to do everything in her power to forget everything about chess and the championship. It shouldn't have been too hard with the heaps of work for classes, mountains of revision for NEWTs, not to mention her Head Girl responsibilities, had not the whole Hogwarts been talking about this and only this. Also, the fact that she still was Ron's second didn't make things better.

Throwing her pride to the wind (because if this meant she didn't have to spend her evenings with her most favourite people in the whole world – Ron, Malfoy, Moody and Snape – then damn her pride!) she had gone to McGonagall about resigning her position as a second, but after being yelled at by her favourite professor for two hours ("I will not let a Gryffindor give up, especially a Head Girl", "Can you imagine the rumours your stepping back will cause!", "I will not give Professor Snape this satisfaction!"), she realized it was hopeless.

And thus she still had to sit in the front row in the Ravenclaw common room a few hours each day, trying to look anywhere but at the two contestants in the middle, the old Auror by their side, and the two very rivalrous Professors taking turns in glaring at their champions and glaring at each other. (They kept their arguments in front of Moody to the minimum, clearly the threat of revealing their (untruthful!!!) fancy for each other working better than any Unbreakable Vow ever could. And having both caught a few students whispering about the very same thing had made them take Moody seriously; and Obliviate those poor students.)

Yet looking around the audience, at their excited faces painted red or green, their gazes concentrated on the chess board, their hands clutching at the sides of their chairs or small rag dolls of either Ron or Malfoy, monstrous beasts of half-snakes half-lions hanging from their ears or around their necks – all this did not give her the yearned escape from chess.

None of the paintings were any better. Especially the one of Lady Ravenclaw, during the matches always shared with Dumbledore, who was either sleeping peacefully, sipping some wine and smiling, or twinkling at the people in the common room. Hermione couldn't fathom how he could be pleased with his creation – after all, it had done the exact opposite to house unity. Now it wasn't even the Gryffindor-Slytherin and Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff thing anymore, now everybody seemed to be against everybody else. Those two houses not competing in chess chose instead to compete for the favour and friendship of either Gryffindors or Slytherins, but their attachment lasted less than a few hours and turned to animosity quickly after.

And even Professors seemed a bit unfair towards all the students outside their own (or favourite, for those who were not Heads) house. The only exceptions were, surprisingly, McGonagall and Snape, who had been pushed too far and now held a personal grudge against each and every student.

But the funny thing was that no one but Hermione noticed this. They were all too occupied with the chess themselves, or perhaps they were just extremely unobservant.

Everything will go back to normal once this championship is over. Everything. She promised herself, once again standing in the middle of the Ravenclaw common room waiting for the champions to arrive.

"This has been rather interesting, hmm?" the Bloody Baron tried to be social.

Hermione turned to him and smiled. At least there was one in the whole castle who seemed to be on her side these days, although she would have never guessed it would be the scary Slytherin ghost. But as seconds they sat together in the audience, waited together for the champions, and even solved a few problems together. Like when Ron threw another tantrum and was going to rush out of the room again, it was the Baron, not Hermione, who hovered in front of the door and stopped him with a few well-chosen threats. And when Malfoy simply walked through the Baron who tried to stop him, it was Hermione who grabbed his hand and dragged him back to the table.

Unbelievable as it sounded, they were becoming friends.

"We can only hope this game is going to be as good as the last one," the Baron continued. "I mean, I never knew chess could be this exciting. The way he moved his Knight and Bishop together, leaving him no space to organize or manipulate his pieces, and then how he broke out of the barricade with only two Pawns! The tactic, the mind! I am so proud of the boy."

Hermione sighed. The score before the last game had been 2-2, and then Malfoy had won, and Gryffindors had howled in disappointment. But Ron had not been too taken back by this, instead his will to win had grown even greater, and most of his time went to staring at the chess board and thinking up new moves to use. Of course, this didn't mean he missed any chance to raise his glance and glare angrily at Hermione, who glared back as long as she could restrain her tears, then turned around and walked away with her head held high, only to break into sobs once there was a closed door behind her back.

She had been so angry at Ron, and so hurt by his words and actions when she had run out of the library. But later, when she had no more tears left to cry, she had thought back to all the great times they had had together, and some not so great times during the war when they had been closer than ever before, and risked their lives for each other.

And in the end, after a sleepless night of thinking and sobbing, she had come to the conclusion that all the blame went to chess and the pressure it had on him. Sure, he still shouldn't have said some of the things he did, but knowing Ron he probably didn't mean all this. He had been just angry and tired and she hadn't been too easy on him either. And so, Hermione decided to give him another chance – to give him her forgiveness once again.

But he never asked. And she started to doubt.

"Welcome, finalists!" the Bloody Baron exclaimed, starting her out of her thoughts. And indeed, Ron and Malfoy had made it into the arena, now moving towards the central table and scowling at each other.

Ron stepped past her like he hadn't seen her at all, and even though it hurt, she had become used to this. But then he stopped, turned around, and gave her a long serious look, which made her breath get caught and heart start beating twice as fast. As if in slow motion he walked back to her, and she had to swallow the lump in her throat before looking up into his eyes.

"Hermione," he whispered, and she couldn't help the smile forming on her lips nor the lonely tear spilling from her eye.

"I am going to win today's game for everyone still loyal to me. Feel free to count yourself out."

The blow of these words hit her so hard she even stumbled back a few steps, her mouth open in shock and eyes wide in horror. But fates gave her no time to collect herself because a second later the other player was standing in front of her.

His cold calculating grey eyes bore into her misty ones, as he told her calmly,

"I will win the game for you."

And then he was gone, and Moody was talking, and people were rushing into the common room to watch the game, and Hermione had never been quite so confused or shocked before.

---

The orchestra was playing mildly and all the eyes in the room, and many eyes outside were staring at the chess board in the middle. This, for once, also included Hermione, who explained her renewed interest in the game with the fact that if she wasn't following the game she would be thinking, and if she thought too hard she might just jump up, run to the centre, and strangle Ron. Or Malfoy. Or both.

"Knight to F3," Ron, playing with whites this game, spoke clearly the opening move. Hermione watched his Knight rein the horse and jump over a Pawn to reach its ordered place.

Moody scribbled the move down with his pencil. Hermione had no idea why he was using a Muggle pencil and Muggle paper for this, but she concluded it gave him a scarier look in front of those many witches and wizards who had never seen either before.

"Knight to F6," Malfoy said, making the exact symmetrical move to Ron's.

The redhead frowned. Clearly, he had not been expecting this. For a moment he raised his glance to his opponent, as if asking What are you playing at? But Malfoy didn't answer to his glance, and Ron turned it back to the chess board.

"Pawn to B3," he stated confidently, his Pawn made an important face and enjoying its limelight, stepped two squares forward.

"Pawn to B6," Malfoy said almost immediately, once again copying Ron's move and making him frown even deeper.

Now there was a long pause of relaxing music in the room, which did nothing to ease the tension in it. Like always in these cases, people started to whisper, careful to keep their voices down and not get thrown into a pile of snow.

"He's copying his moves!" someone stated the very obvious.

"Is it allowed?" someone else inquired.

"What is he trying to do?"

He's trying to confuse him, Hermione answered the last question in her mind. And if she was right, Malfoy was doing a great job at it.

---

"And the tension grows in the gaming arena where the snake has so far copied each move of the lion, who now has to take a moment and figure out the best way for him to move and tramp the snake into dirt. The look of concentration on his face, sweat glistening on his forehead, his eyes scanning the board left and right, up and down – you can almost feel the little wheels going round and round in his brain as new ideas, new tactics..."

"Chocolate Frogs! Peppermint Toads! Lollipops! Pumpkin juice! Butterbeer! Rag dolls! Photos with signatures! Malfoy's stolen underwear! Gum chewed by Weasley!"

After their initial chaos in the Great Hall, Hufflepuffs had done some serious thinking (during their all-night-long detentions they had received for not managing to pack up their goods and products quickly enough) and found a way to connect chess and commerce. Now those who wanted to enjoy the game did not have to hide themselves under the tables as the Great Hall was furnished with rows of chairs and a big screen above the teacher's table which showed the happenings in the Ravenclaw tower.

And so, people went there and sat down and looked at the screen and listened to Seamus commentating about the match (as it was rather hard not to hear him). But whenever there was a pause in the game, a moment of silence when whichever player contemplated his next move, when the audience started to get restless and bored – that was the time to sell them anything from sweets and drinks to parchment rolls scented like Ron. (The worst idea ever in Harry's point of view, who had gone sort of green when it had been pushed under his nose, and even more greener when Susan had happily announced that she had sold eleven such rolls in the last five minutes.)

"Oh, hello, Seamus!" Ernie grinned at the boy giving him a death glare. "Anything for you? Lollipops, candies, juice? Or perhaps something else? Look at this-" he took an old grey sock out of his bag, "-this sock was worn by Weasley when he won his first game. It's guaranteed to be lucky."

"Merlin, Ernie! You want me to buy an old dirty sock for what... ten sickles? Are you out of your mind! I live in the same room as Ron – I could swim in his dirty socks if I wanted."

"Not that I want," he added quickly with a shiver of horror.

"Hmm," Ernie said, looking pensive. "I'll give you 5 sickles if you bring me the socks he wore for today's match. That is, if he wins, of course."

"I wouldn't touch his dirty laundry for even ten galleons," he replied disgustedly.

"All right, all right, I get it. 6 sickles?"

"Get lost, Macmillan. The number of sweat drops on Ron's left cheek indicates he is going to make his move in five seconds."

"Now really, Finnigan," the other boy started, but didn't get to finish since Ron's voice boomed over the chatter of the hall.

"Pawn to G4."

Seamus would have loved to gloat in front of Macmillan, but now that the move was made he had to comment upon it. But he comforted himself with the idea that the Hufflepuff fool had a dirty sock of Ron's in his bag.

"And Ronald Weasley has made his move, setting his Pawn right under fire from the Black Knight. Is this a part of his ingenious technique or is he simply trying to prevent Malfoy from copying this move of his? We can't be sure of this yet, but very soon we will see the snake's reaction..."

"Pawn to G5."

"And he's done it again – copied his opponent's move and now placing his own Pawn into danger. What will the lion answer to this – will he claim the snake's Pawn or move his own out of the danger? Very soon, dear people, we will see, although perhaps he will need a moment of thought..."

---

While Gryffindor commented, Hufflepuff sold, and Ravenclaw was hosting the match, the Slytherins had put up their own little business.

"Five Galleons for Weasley."

Theodore Nott wrote it down in his notebook and moved along. Once he had made it back to the Slytherin part of the hall, his housemates quickly gathered around him.

"What's the total?" Blaise asked.

"Seventy nine Galleons for Weasley, fifty six for Malfoy."

"Hmm, not everyone here seems to favour the Weasel after all," he smirked.

"It's the Ravenclaws. They are smart. Draco is leading at the moment, after all."

"Hopefully he wins this time as well."

"How are they doing at the moment?" Nott asked, looking at the screen.

"He still keeps copying majority of his moves and it has already cost him his Queen."

Nott thought about it for a while.

"Oh, what the hell," he said at last. "I'll put ten of my own."

"For Draco?"

"Would I dare bet against my own House?" he faked shock and horror.

Blaise only smirked as he wrote down the name of the Gryffindor. After all, that was how he had won forty Galleons.

---

Oh Merlin! Oh Merlin! Oh Merlin! Oh Merlin! Hermione was chanting in her head. The game was close to its end, she could feel it in the tension around the room, see it from the expressions of the players, hear it from the notes the orchestra produced. One way or another, it was going to end in the next couple of moves.

"Let him win! Let him win! Let him win!" she muttered under her breath, unable to turn her eyes away from the board.

"Let who win?" the Bloody Baron whispered into her ear.

"Who do you think!" Hermione hissed back, not angry at him, but too nervous at the moment.

"That doesn't matter," he chuckled softly. "What matters is who do you think."

"Well, obviously," she started to say, but was cut through by Malfoy's move.

"Pawn to E1."

Ron stared at the board. Everyone stared at the board, even Ernie and Blaise back in the Great Hall.

The Pawn had made it to the other end of the chess board and was now standing proudly, waiting for his promotion.

"And in the end," Malfoy spoke up to the whole room. "It only takes one determined Pawn to win the game."

"Queen," he said to the Pawn and as it changed its form, the White King started visibly, suddenly finding himself under attack from all directions. It tried to escape the newly metamorphosed Pawn, but everywhere black pieces stood menacingly in its way, it tried bringing its own army to protect it, but they were all too far or separated by blacks. For a little longer the White King looked around in panic, until a Black Knight stepped forward and chopped its head off.

"And the winner is Draco Malfoy!" Moody announced.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief and froze. A sigh of relief? But that would mean...

REVIEW!