Montague Knightley – 1506-1588, Wizard Chess Champion
It had always been the library for him, from the very first. Within those dusty rows of books he could hole up with his best friends and play a rousing game of chess whenever they became bored with studying. He couldn't really pull out his chess set at home, where there were too many prying eyes. His father had always said that it was a good thing His Majesty was too busy trying to deal with all of the religious uprising in the country to notice that one of his godchildren disappeared every fall to some strange school in Scotland. Mother said that this was one family secret that could never be let out, no matter how much the scandalmongers at court were willing to pay. She told everyone that Monty had to attend school on the Continent in order to become a well-rounded young man fit for court. Father always laughed at that one.
"Martha," Father would tell Mother, "Remember that it is your fault that we ever got to this point."
"Richard," Mother would spit back, "I might be the witch in the family, but it wasn't me who insisted that he attend Hogwarts. I had always hoped that he would be a Squib."
But then Mother would start laughing too. Monty knew that both of his parents were glad that he had a knack for wizardry, no matter how dangerous it was. But maybe it was the danger of it that made it so worthwhile, the sense of a subtle rebellion against the extravagance of court life. Both of his parents had been born into wealthy, well-placed families within the Tudor circle. And from a young age their marriage had been planned. Yes, the Knightleys were unaware of who the Hastings really were, but Richard had developed an unexpected affection for Martha despite the "forced" marriage and handled the news of his wife's identity very well. So young Montague Knightly had been raised in a home that did not attempt to burn his mother and where he was taught to ride his broom and raise his wand only in secret.
When he first saw the castle, tall across the lake, he nearly stopped breathing. This was a place where he could be free.
It was an easy school to grow into, to find yourself. And Monty found himself in Slytherin. It wasn't a bad house, not really, no matter what everyone thought. True, many of its inhabitants were not of the kind-hearted sort, but if every student was as sweet as a Hufflepuff everyone would have toothaches. And there was an enjoyable sort of camaraderie in being known as a part of the sinister house. There were always interesting conversations to be had, always people to tease, always new spells to find to get out of doing homework. But his closest friends were two boys who had been placed in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, a friendship which some students struggled to understand. But within a country where it was difficult to trust your brother, finding a friend was like finding a hidden treasure.
So the three boys, Montague and Charles and Timothy, could hardly be separated. They would sit together at meals, forgoing the tradition to sit at their own house tables to instead rotate each night. Books were shared between the three, and more often than not all three would be longing after the same girl. The professors looked at them and smiled, and other students tried to hide their desire for a friendship like theirs. The boys would visit each other's homes when they were not in school and write voluminous letters to each other.
It was Timothy, the Ravenclaw, son of a duke, who introduced the game of wizard chess to Monty. It was a rainy day that the third-years had been spending holed up in the library writing essays on the founder of their respective house when Timothy laid down his quill and pulled a wooden box out of his bag. He explained that his father had brought him the game as a present after a lengthy voyage to Spain and that it was being played by wizards all over the Continent.
Monty had picked up a pawn, holding the small figure in his hand. And he knew that he had finally found his calling. Here, in these little soldiers, he would learn to master the minds of countless men. He would conquer the world through this checkered board. Father had always told him that he had a military mind, and here was a battle that he could fight within the walls of the library.
The current librarian, an elderly wizard who went by the name Sir Lincoln though he was neither a knight nor from the county of Lincoln, was not averse to the playing of chess in the back corners of the library. So Timothy and Charles and Monty hung up pieces of parchment advertising a new sort of club that would meet in the library every evening at eight o'clock to play a new game brought over from the Continent. And soon they had half of the school playing, with professors dropping in from time to time to see what all the fuss was about and ghosts floating about, saying the sort of thing like, "If only they had a game like that when I was alive. Perhaps then I wouldn't be dead." And it was in that way a Slytherin helped bring much of the school together in an unexpected way.
As the years passed both Timothy and Charles moved on to other interests, though their friendship with Monty remained just as strong. But the boy who had first held the enchanted pawn in his hand grew into a young man whose chess set believed in him impeccably. You remember, of course, that it is up to the wizard to gain the trust of his chess set just as it is up to the king to gain the loyalty of his soldiers. And when he finished school, Montague Knightley did not return to the court of King Henry VIII to join his father as a nobleman. Rather, the tall young man with long black hair traveled all across Europe. He shared his knowledge, teaching young boys the military prowess needed to lead an army of little men. He ran lessons and started clubs and beat the best players in the world. His mother, when asked by inquiring friends as to the whereabouts of her son, would explain that he was off fighting battles in distant lands.
And so he was. This man was not the first to show the wizarding world that those from Slytherin did not have to be evil, nor would he be the last. But he did pass on a gift. The gift of a quick, logical mind, the gift of sitting in libraries and laughing with friends. He never forgot the place where he learned his first lessons in psychological warfare. It was in the library at his old school, amidst the smell of ink and parchment, where he was able to grasp that most important freedom that had often seemed so out of reach.
In these halls, he had learned to play.
Author's Note: Montague Knightley is found on Famous Wizard Card No. 74. He (and all other people and places mentioned herein) belong to J.K. Rowling.