Chapter 3
Round 1: Calculated Chaos
Dumbledore was making some diagrams on his chalkboard when he heard a knock coming from the entrance of his classroom. He turned around and saw Graves standing in the doorway, looking much healthier than he had been and wearing one of Dumbledore's own suits. He kept the longer hair, Dumbledore noticed.
"Mr. Graves! You look very well!" He gestured for him to come in.
"Roisin said you lent me some of your clothes."
"Yes, we had to take them in a bit but I think they fit quite well otherwise. In fact, you may look better in them than I do."
"I just wanted to thank you."
"Of course, it's only a few pieces of fabric. You didn't have to come all this way just for that."
"I wanted to move my legs. We don't do that enough as wizards." He looked down for a moment and then back up at Dumbledore. "I mean, I wanted to thank you for everything you've done. Now that I'm well enough I'll be heading back to America and I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye."
Dumbledore was surprised to hear that. "So soon? Are you sure you feel up to it? It can take weeks if not months for the body to get back to normal."
Graves just shrugged and said, "Magic."
Dumbledore gave a kind of disappointed laugh.
"I don't feel 100% yet but I'm at least able to move around on my own. Besides, I need to attend to some things back home."
Dumbledore's face changed as he suddenly remembered something. "Oh that reminds me! I meant to show you this but I completely forgot." He gestured for Graves to follow him into the next room which happened to be Dumbledore's office. It was a tidy but eclectic space with lots of trinkets and magical objects. Graves took it in while Dumbledore was fumbling through one of his desk drawers. He became fixated on a small table in the corner of the room when Dumbledore snapped him out of it. "Ah, here it is."
He took out a crumpled newspaper and handed it to Graves, who was surprised to see that it was a recent copy of The New York Ghost. Plastered across the front page was the story of Grindelwald failing to become Supreme Mugwump and getting ousted by a bunch of Americans. "What on earth…?" He murmured as he became engrossed in the article.
Dumbledore nodded a sympathetic "I know" and then looked down at the article and his eyes went wide, realizing it wasn't the one he had intended to share. "Oh! My word, yes, there's much to catch up on. I'm frightfully sorry. I meant to show you this one." He turned the paper around pointing to the article about Graves himself.
Graves looked at the image like it was someone he didn't recognize anymore, even though- as Dumbledore had pointed out- he would've hardly aged since the photo was taken. He read the article quietly and Dumbledore stood by in respectful silence until he had finished.
"So you see, you may not have a home to return to anymore." Dumbledore said somberly.
Much to his astonishment, Graves actually laughed at this. And not one of his sarcastic laughs either, a real laugh.
"That's not the real Graves' estate. That's just me in front of some random townhouse. They can never touch the real one. It's nestled in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains. Even you, Dumbledore, would be hard-pressed to find it."
"Well, aren't you full of surprises." Dumbledore sounded impressed. "I do hope you'll take me there one day."
Graves looked at him thoughtfully and said, "I suppose you've earned a visit." They held each other's gaze for a few beats before Graves' eyes darted to the table he had been fixated on earlier.
"I see you have a chess set. Care to play?"
"Oh, I would be delighted! You know, I always have trouble getting people to play." He pulled out the chair in front of the gold pieces for Graves before poking his head out and magicking the classroom door shut. "I'll be scarlet and you can be gold." He then shut his own door and sat down in the opposite chair.
"Gold goes first?" Graves asked as he took off his jacket and placed it on the back of his chair.
"Yes."
Graves smoothed out his trousers and sat down, taking a moment to look at the board reverently, before slowly and methodically adjusting all the gold pieces to make sure they were centered. Dumbledore watched him, absolutely fascinated by what appeared to be a sacred ritual. When Graves was satisfied he looked up at Dumbledore and asked, "Ready?" Dumbledore nodded and Graves surprised him again by sticking his hand out. Dumbledore took it and they shook as Graves murmured a quick "good luck" before beginning the game.
"Oh, how wonderfully formal." Dumbledore said, still fascinated.
Graves cleared his throat and said, "D4." The golden pawn marched proudly forward to the d4 square.
Scarlet's turn.
"Ahem," Dumbledore cleared his throat expectantly but no command followed. Graves glanced up at him curiously and then to his surprise, Dumbledore's pawn moved to e6.
Graves' brow furrowed for a second but he continued on.
"Knight to f3." The horse whinnied and leapt over the pawns to the f3 square.
Dumbledore gave a little tap on the table which awakened the d-pawn and prompted it to go to d6.
Staying principled, Graves moved his own pawn to e3.
Dumbledore, examining his fingernails, simply said, "You know what to do." And evidently he was right. The d-pawn marched happily to d5.
Graves gave Dumbledore a look. "Well...this is going to be interesting. Bishop to d3."
"Pawn, do your worst." It was the e-pawn's turn to move up a square and when it did, it reached behind its back, pulled out a bottle and took a big swig. With puffed up cheeks, it spit the liquid around the perimeter of the e5 square.
Graves raised his eyebrows at Dumbledore whose eyes sparkled back at him with anticipation. This was somewhat unsettling but Graves' curiosity and desire to win a free pawn was stronger than his sense of impending doom. He called out, "Knight to e5."
The knight galloped forward but before it could reach e5, the pawn flicked a lit match onto the contents of the spray, igniting a ring of fire around the square. The horse reared up and stopped short.
Graves was dumbfounded by this and looked up to see Dumbledore leaning back in his chair, arms and legs crossed with an annoyingly cheerful expression.
"Did you know that was going to happen?"
Dumbledore just smiled and shrugged.
Graves turned his attention to the knight that had planted itself back on f3. "Come on, you have to take him." When the horse just whinnied and shook its mane, he tried reasoning with it. "It isn't a real fire, it's not going to hurt you." Another whinny and snort. "If it does, you're magical, you'll just be reborn." Understandably, this did nothing to ease its fears. As a last resort, Graves tried making clicking sounds to see if the knight could be coaxed into action like a real horse. It couldn't.
"Fine then. Pawn to e5." The d-pawn looked at the fire which was already too close for comfort, before turning and looking back at Graves imploringly, or as imploring as a faceless sphere could look. "It's just going to take you on the next turn anyway! Get it before it gets you!" The poor pawn, shaking from fright, backed itself into the corner of its square, as far away from e5 as it could get, and covered its face with its helmet. "You've got to be kidding me."
Dumbledore was watching all this with immense pleasure. Graves, getting more frustrated by the second, refused to look in his direction.
"Ok, relax. No one's going to e5. We'll just go pawn to e4." He would've preferred to make an attacking move but since none of his pieces were cooperating he had to play defense instead. Nothing happened for a moment but when the pawn moved forward a square Graves breathed a sigh of relief.
Finally his turn to move, Dumbledore called out, "Next!"
It was the c-pawn's turn to move to c6.
Graves' eye twitched. "Of course you did. Pawn to b3." The b-pawn marched forward without complaint. "Let me guess, c5?"
Dumbledore smiled cheekily at him, rubbed his hands together excitedly and said, "You heard the man!"
The pawn marched to c5 and Graves let out an annoyed exhale when the pawn took out a bottle of its own and took a swig. This time instead of spitting it out, the c-pawn gulped it down. What transpired next Graves would have never predicted. The pawn unzipped its non-existent zipper and started peeing all over the c5 square like a cherub statue in a fountain, without a care in the world.
Graves just stared at Dumbledore shaking his head, at a total loss. "What kind of game are you playing here, Dumbledore?"
"I can't say I've seen that one before but they do get creative, don't they?" Dumbledore replied, not looking in the least bit sorry.
"You know what? Let's see what happens just for fun." Graves exclaimed, sounding like someone who wasn't interested in having fun at all. "D4, wake up! You're going to take on c5."
The d-pawn peeked out from under its helmet and turned to look at the c5 square. It gave a couple sniffs and with a disgusted 'ew' returned to cowering under its helmet.
"What a surprise!" Graves threw his hands up in exasperation. "Why not just run away while you're at it?" The d-pawn all but leapt off the board, not needing to be told twice. "Oh, no you don't." Graves grabbed it before it could escape and placed it back on d4. "Stay." He pointed at the pawn like he was disciplining a disobedient puppy. "We are in the middle of a battle here."
When he finally got the pawn to stay in its position he glanced up at Dumbledore, looking much harried indeed. "You have the most unruly chess set I've ever seen."
Dumbledore puffed up with pride. "Thank you, it's taken years to get it like that."
"That wasn't a compliment." Graves grumbled as he searched the board for his next move. Seeing a chance to mix things up Graves decided to make a forcing move. "Bishop to b5."
This put Dumbledore's king in check so he couldn't make one of his typical pawn moves, which in itself felt like a victory for Graves. "Do what you have to do." Dumbledore commanded his pieces. The light-squared bishop slid over to block on d7.
"How refreshing."
Graves realized he had spoken too soon when the bishop took out a small pouch and started sprinkling salt around his position like some type of exorcism circle.
"Let's just get this over with." Graves said, propping his head up in his hand. "Bishop d7." His bishop shot out like an arrow towards the opposing bishop and when he tried to cross the salt circle he was blasted backwards by an invisible force-field. Graves just bobbed his head up and down. "Mm-hmm."
Running out of options and patience, Graves decided to try a new tactic. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He leaned back in his chair, mirroring Dumbledore's posture, and trying to sound casual, said, "You know what to do." Dumbledore chuckled at this, deeply amused by the whole display.
The knight on f3 was the one that came to life as it jumped back to g1.
"You're retreating? You know you're preventing your king from castling now, right? The main point of this game is to protect your king!" The knight just plopped its hind-quarters down without remorse.
The game continued on like this, Dumbledore mostly moving his pawns, first to the 6th rank, then to the 5th, creating an impenetrable wall of destruction and debauchery. At one point, Graves could be heard saying, "Oh my god, is he defecating?!"
By the time Dumbledore got to his last pawn, Graves looked at him stone-faced and said, "You couldn't just move them out 2 squares at a time?"
Dumbledore gave an unconcerned shrug. "What is battle without a little build-up?"
"Ok, well I resign. I can't do anything but shuffle my pieces around while you advance down the board. This has got to be against the rules."
"I've made no illegal moves."
"But you can't prevent me from making legal moves. There's got to be some kind of rule of law imbued into the pieces. Otherwise this is mayhem."
"Now you're starting to sound like the old Head of Magical Law Enforcement. I'm sorry to disappoint you, Sheriff, but I didn't prevent you from doing anything." Graves' jaw clenched at being called 'Sheriff'. "You've got to know the pieces you're playing. How else are you supposed to get them to do what you want?"
"Know the pieces? The pieces just have to do what I say. That's how this works."
"You pamper them too much. How can you expect them to be any good if you do everything for them?"
Graves was practically frothing at the mouth. In a herculean effort, he bit down his frustration and stood up from the table. "It seems we have a difference of opinion about how this game is played. Thank you so much, Professor. I will forever be in your debt and I can never hope to repay you."
Dumbledore, who had been so enjoying this exchange, was surprised by its rather abrupt end. "You don't have to make it sound so glum." He said, standing up to be on eye level.
Graves put his jacket back on and said through tight lips. "It was an honor to meet you and I've enjoyed our time together."
"Say it like you mean it." Dumbledore sounded a little deflated.
Graves reached the door and turned around. "As soon as I get back to America I'll have this suit cleaned and returned to you."
"I don't need the suit back. It's yours."
"Your generosity knows no bounds." He said stiffly, sticking his hand out to shake goodbye.
Dumbledore took it, looking a bit crestfallen. "Is this how we're ending it?"
The fire that Graves had been trying to suppress flared back to life. With a firm tug he pulled Dumbledore forward and leaned imposingly close, locking eyes. Dumbledore, who was constantly invading other people's space, rarely had anyone be so bold as to return the favor. It caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand up.
"Oh no. I demand a rematch."
With that, Graves turned around and walked out the door.
