Checkmate

Part II - The Game - Chapter 14

You could not give me
More than you gave me.
Why should there be something in me
Still discontented?

I've been a fool to allow
Dreams to become great expectations

But if you hear today
I'm no longer
Quite so devoted
To this affair,
I've been misquoted.

Lyrics from "You and I" from Chess by Benny Anderson, Tim Rice and Björn Ulvaeus

* * * * *

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, poking nervously at the remnants of a poached egg and toast on his plate with his fork. Across from him, Seamus was carrying on a loud, animated discussion with Neville and Dean about their Herbology project. They'd received their marks just minutes ago from Professor Sprout and, while not the top marks in the class, they had done quite well. Ginny was sitting with Seamus and seemed to find it interesting as the three boys expounded on the details, but Harry really didn't care what would happen if a bubotuber was crossed with a Mimbulus mimbletonia.

Even if it did allow a pre-diluted form of valuable bubotuber pus to be collected with a single sharp prod to the plant's stem rather than the previously tedious method of squeezing each boil, the fact that the hybrid would spew revoltingly stinky sap in all directions – sap that smelled like a combination of petrol and rancid manure – was too disgusting to contemplate. Ron, who was sitting next to Harry, seemed to find it disgusting too, and turned away to talk to Hermione about plans for their stay at the Burrow.

At that point, Harry tuned everyone out.

Earlier, when he'd first sat down at the table, Harry had been the center of attention. Everyone had oohed and aahed over his ring, and Seamus had teased him unmercifully. Ron had looked on resignedly and actually managed a slightly approving grin once. Feeling elated and pleased, Harry had watched impatiently for Draco while he ate his eggs and toast. But now the success of the Herbology project had taken over the conversation.

More importantly, however, it had been over half an hour since Harry had left Draco's room, and Draco hadn't come down yet. Harry was becoming increasingly concerned and wondering if he should try to go back up to find him, to see that he was okay. If that owl had been from Lucius . . .

Then finally, the doors opened and Draco walked in, making his way to the Slytherin table with his head down, without even a glance in Harry's direction. This in itself was not that troubling, but Harry was already worried and therefore watched Draco intently, hoping to catch his eye, trying to interpret from his body language what was going on. But Draco only sat down, dished up his breakfast, and ignored everyone, including Harry.

* * * * *

At the Slytherin table, Draco picked tensely at his breakfast, one eye fixed surreptitiously on Harry and the other on Dumbledore. So far, he had managed to avoid meeting Harry's questioning glances directly, even though he could practically feel Harry's growing concern and curiosity from across the room as Harry tried subtly, and unsuccessfully, to get his attention.

He heard Pansy clear her throat meaningfully and he turned to give her an even more meaningfully stifling glare. If he had to make a scene with Harry, he wasn't about to do it in front of Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers. Even Pansy, he thought with annoyance, should be able to figure that out.

But he didn't have long to wait. Dumbledore drank the last of his tea and rose to leave the table. McGonagall stood up too, continuing her conversation with the headmaster as she accompanied him out of the hall. It was only a matter of moments before the rest of the staff finished eating and filtered out. Draco got ready to move; he had to time what he was about to do perfectly, and he was going to have to be fast.