Wizard's Chess

inizio (noun): beginning, start, starting, onset, opening, inception

When I wake up, I think that it's just another school day filled with parchment, quills, spellwork; maybe a monstrous plant in Herbology, if we're unlucky enough.

Sadly, I'm mistaken.

(Which doesn't happen that often, I assure you.)

It's easy to think that last night's meeting in the Room of Requirement is a dream, but for some reason, I know it's not. Maybe it's because Janet is waiting for me by the time I exit the bathroom.

"We should probably head down together," she says. She turns around and goes back to organizing her bag. I make no sign of acknowledgement - by now, she knows that this is an affirmative - before groaning and smacking my face with my hand.

Ugh. Mornings.

Zabini is already waiting in one of the classrooms on our way to the Great Hall when we arrive. Misty Goyle is already trying to turn her (non-existent) charm on him, while he just seems to be concentrating on something - no doubt plotting James' destruction. Wesley and Louis are already there, sitting on top of one on the tables and quietly discussing something about our History of Magic essay. Malfoy and Parkinson walk in about 30 seconds behind us, deciding to stand coolly near the door.

Quick escape route. Why didn't I think of that?

Zabini claps his hands together. "This is it. Inizio. The beginning."

Goyle giggles. "Is that some kind of spell or something?"

I try to hold back a groan. I hear Parkinson chuckling behind me.

"It's Italian, Misty." Zabini gazes at each one of us. "Where chess originated."

"Chess' origins are found in India," Janet says from my side.

"That may be so, but modern chess is most likely to be from Italy. Before then, the queen was called the minister, and had much less power."

He looks at me square in the eye. I stare back, unfazed.

"Weasley, I want you to eat at the Slytherin table today. Malfoy, you're right-handed, if I'm correct?" I don't have to look behind me to see the blond figure nod. "Then that means your wand will be on your right. Weasley will be sitting on your right side then. Parkinson, you'll be across from them. The rest of you, stay where you usually are. Don't do anything noticeable."

There is no way I'm sitting next to Malfoy. "I need Janet to sit next to me."

Zabini turns back to look at me again. "There's no way. The beginning of the game is to scope the field out, determine what the other side's players are. If we mix too much, Potter will undoubtedly notice and we'll be at a disadvantage before the real fun starts.

"Today's objective is to scope them out. James Potter isn't stupid, but he's too arrogant for his own good. His choices will most likely be too obvious, which gives us the starting edge. The white team has to make the first move. Just sit back, observe, and be on your guard. Weasley, I want you to be at Malfoy's side as much as you can. Only split up when you have separate classes. I need you next to him every other second of the day, and use your full power to protect him."

I raise my eyebrows. He merely smirks back.

That little fucker! I think. He wants me to use wandless magic!

The bastard is smarter than I originally thought.

The stares are endless as I say goodbye to Louis and Janet at the Ravenclaw table and slide in next to Scorpius Malfoy one table over. I murmur a quiet greeting, which Malfoy ignores. Nathan Parkinson, however, grins.

"Hey there, Weasley." He nods at me, then picks up a piece of toast to butter. "Actually, can I just call you Rose? Too many Weasleys around here." His friendly tone surprises me - Parkinson and I haven't really talked before, and he's known around Hogwarts as the guy with a secret motive.

"Of course you can," I reply, gritting my teeth. I'm not one to make new friends, but I don't want the whole Slytherin House against me. I am in their territory, after all.

"Good, I was going to call you that anyway," he says before stuffing the toast in his mouth. I glare at him. He's definitely more Slytherin than I expected - another Dominic Zabini in the making.

Scorpius clears his throat, and I turn around to look at him. His eyes lead me to one Albus Potter, standing up from the Hufflepuff table, no doubt heading in our direction.

Fuck. So far, no one's openly confronted me for sitting at the Slytherin table; just sly glances here and there, with the not-so-occasional whispers. Albus, however, is entirely different. He's probably the most righteous person in our family; compassionate towards all.

It's quite sickening, actually.

As Albus slowly moves toward us from the Hufflepuff table, which luckily is located on the other side of the hall, I hiss, low enough for only Malfoy and Parkinson to hear me: "What's our story?"

"What are the chances he's in on the game?" Malfoy says lowly.

I think quickly. Albus is Hufflepuff, which James obviously dislikes (he still can't believe his brother is a Puff. Apparently, to the great James Sirius Potter, being in Hufflepuff is an embarrassment to the family name). Even if Al was offered a spot, I doubt he would like the idea of having classmates as his servants, or sneaking under the noses of the teachers. The poor boy is just so damn loyal and considerate.

But, he's family. James most likely used family members to fill his positions, just like his Quidditch team.

"Not high, but we can't cross him off yet," I reply.

And I turn around to find Albus standing there, arms crossed.

"Hello, Al," I say, offering him a smile. "What brings you to this side of the hall?"

"Just wondering about my cousin's seating arrangements this morning,"

"Oh," I say, desperately trying to come up with a cover. I glance at Malfoy who has decided to depart from the conversation and turn back to his meal.

Bloody git left me to fend for myself.

I drag my hand through my unruly auburn hair, trying to waste time. By the look of impatience on Albus' face, I can tell it's not working.

"I'm tutoring him," I blurt out. "For... transfiguration."

Albus isn't buying it. "Rosie, he has the highest grades in the class after you and Janet. I doubt he needs tutoring help."

"Did I say I'm tutoring him?" I volley back. "I meant to say we're partnering up to tutor some kids."

"Rose. Tell me the truth before I call the whole family over. Don't make me write to Uncle Ron either."

I cringe. "I... um..." I elbow Malfoy, who makes no motion to turn to face Albus, or acknowledge the situation at all.

Twat.

"I'm waiting, Rose. If Malfoy is taking advantage of you or something, you can just tell me, it's not like he can -"

"For Merlin's sake, they're dating! Happy?"

I swivel back around to find Nathan Parkinson, with that ever -present smirk on his face. I resist the urge to slap it off of him. Seriously, why would he say that? I'm desperate for a cover story, but not that desperate.

I suddenly notice that the Great Hall has gone almost quiet. It seems that everyone, especially the Gryffindor table, is watching this little fiasco.

I can't see Zabini from where I'm sitting, but I know he's smirking too.

"...Rosie, is this true?" Albus' face is a look of pure shock. I'm disappointed that he finds me dating Malfoy more plausible than me tutoring him.

But before I can open my mouth to deny it, I feel an arm draping around my shoulders.

"Yes, we're dating, Potter. Now can I please eat my breakfast in peace with my girlfriend?"

Fuckfuckfuckfuckityfuck.

Why me?

AH it's been quite a while. Half a year, I would say xD I like writing this. It's my first story in first person AND in present tense, which may need some getting used to.

I needed to take a break from SRW so I decided to continue this. This will be the fic I'm focusing on after I wrap SRW up. It will be the only multi-chap I plan on working on, so maybe I'll be more efficient? Hopefully?

Please don't alert/favorite without reviewing!