Checkmate

Part II - The Game - Chapter 13

Don't you know that time is not my friend
I'll fight it to the end
Hoping to keep that best of moments
When the passions start

Heaven help my heart

Lyrics from "Heaven Help My Heart" from Chess by Benny Anderson, Tim Rice and Björn Ulvaeus

* * * * *

A flurry of thoughts and emotions swirled through Harry's mind as he hurried quietly down the myriad shifting staircases that led from the Gryffindor tower toward the entrance hall. Last night, after Ron and Seamus had finally left him alone, these same thoughts had kept him awake. For one thing, he'd given serious thought to Draco's question – the one he hadn't really answered – the one about marriage and children.

With the war, and the personal threat of defeating Voldemort hanging over him, thinking about such things might have seemed pointless and self-indulgent, yet Harry had once had hopes for a future. If there could be a future for him, if he survived, that imagined future had included a family. His imagined partner had once worn Cho's face; the children he had hoped for had been hers. But that future had suddenly been snuffed out at the beginning of last summer like a candle abruptly dropped and drowned in a well of dark water, and Harry had been left with nothing, with no hopes at all. Until now.

That bleak, empty, lonely future which had followed in the wake of Cho's leaving was filling up again with the possibility of love and partnership, and though Harry was much more cautious now, knowing how uncertain it was that this new future might come true, he had found a starting place for hope again. Hope, this time, had been discovered unexpectedly, looking back at him through silver-gray eyes. It was this new hope that had given wings to his imagination last night and had inspired plans – perhaps even for having a family – that he was anxious to talk to Draco about tonight.

There were other important things he wanted to talk to Draco about too, but because he hadn't been able to stay with Draco the night before, they hadn't had a chance. In fact, Draco was the only one he could talk to about most of the things that were happening in his life right now. They needed to find out what was happening to them with their magical auras; particularly, Harry wanted to know how he had unintentionally transfigured that snowball without even casting a spell. He also still hoped he could convince Draco not to leave.

And there was a chess game to finish.

The chess game was starting to become something of a mild annoyance to Harry. In the beginning, it had been a much-needed catalyst for the relationship they were building, and Harry acknowledged with pride how clever Draco had been to devise it. It had made them talk, had made them open themselves to each other, taking turns at being vulnerable, trading opportunities to ask or reveal the things they most wanted to know. Given their history, such a game could have become nasty very quickly, perhaps even violent, but Draco had taken a chance, and Harry could not help but admire him for it.

Still, it seemed unnecessary now, a framework they had outgrown, and especially since Draco had started using it to delay a physical relationship between them, Harry was tired of it. He wanted it to be finished.

On the other hand, he was not going to try to push Draco into that physical relationship either. That was something else he had decided last night – even if he didn't completely understand. If Draco needed more time, then Harry was sure Draco must have his reasons, and he was determined to respect that. He'd told Draco several times that he could wait – the relationship meant far more to him than getting sex, and tonight he was going to make every effort to prove he could keep his word. He grinned a little to himself. The way he felt around Draco was not going to make that easy.