Professors' Notes

McGonagall's Chess Set

That boy... Will he ever understand why I was so nervous at finding them inside? Especially finding him, there?

No spell is flawless... no protection cannot be negated. There is nothing that is guaranteed to protect something... after all, even Dumbledore's protections can be bypassed! There were only two small flaws that could be used to pass my spell; it is greatly to my shame that both were used.

The first flaw is to simply force the pieces not to move. That is, it is "simple" provided you are familiar with the grand art of cheating at Wizards' Chess. Of course, there is the other way of cheating--convincing the pieces to move of their own accord--but that is difficult with an unfamiliar set. No, the only significant way of cheating at Wizards' Chess is to force the pieces to move (or not) against the rules of the game. There are two ways to do this in most sets: physically or magically overpowering the pieces, or changing the spell. There are two ways-- in most sets. Mine, however, was not the standard chess set.

Instead, this was my set.

It was made so that it was impossible to edit the spell, or manipulate any of the pieces other than the one you yourself were playing. Any attempt would result in the reduction of the entire chamber to a quicksand-like bog; after all, transfiguration is my specialty!

Any attempt to manhandle the pieces would obviously be a failure, seeing as the pieces are so much larger than anybody who would be attempting to force them, and Dumbledore deliberately placed the troll after one would have passed through my room, so that one could not force the troll to manhandle the pieces. That leaves only the possibility of magically forcing the pieces not to move--not by changing the spell, which I had protected against, but by countering it.

There was no way to eliminate that possibility... it is always possible to use pure power to override an enchantment. However, doing so takes just as much magical power as doing so physically would take physical strength.

I do not know the grand total of people who have that strength, but I do know that the list is not very long. Dumbledore? Certainly. Harry? It's a possibility... he has never truly been tested. Hermione? No. Definitely not. She is an extremely brilliant girl, but she has nowhere near the power required for that.

Voldemort?

Oh, I wish I had been told who was coming for the stone...

It seems silly, now, to suppose that the enormity of the task would daunt anyone attempting to get across. I had honestly thought it would... well, I honestly was wrong.

Yes, it was possible to throw enough power at that chamber and pass through. All spells can be overwhelmed with pure magical power, even spells that are designed to minimize that effect. (Although such spells are harder to get past...) No amount of finesse would end that possibility... but I should have warned Dumbledore of that weakness, and my failure to do that is inexcusable!

There were two ways to get past my chess set: throw pure power at it until you were passed, or play your way across.

Everything has a weakness. Everything. But even in regards to playing across, I reduced the various ways to win.

When setting up an artificial intelligence, one must have something to model it after. Either one can make a generic model--as the Muggles must--or one can make a specific model--ever so much easier and a long-held tradition in the wizarding society. Portraits, sculptures, mirrors, and diaries... all are based off the psyche of one person. Both models have flaws--however, one can work to minimize those by combining the two.

The generic model would be a chess set that combines the standard elements of all sets (following the rules, moving on their own... do the Muggles really have sets that don't do that?) with the ability to make a reasoned decision about how to move to the best advantage.

The individual uses the basis of a single human of great ingenuity, ability, and imagination. Without those, the chess set would easily be defeated just by following the rules until one had backed the set into a corner. No, the imagination would be the key factor.

But who to use? Obviously, someone who was excellent at chess. Of all those I knew who might possibly count for the position--and knew at the time, because this was done the month before school let out the year before the stone came to Hogwarts--only five were good enough. Albus, oddly, was not one of them. Although he has a brilliant mind for strategy, it's irregular. He can, occasionally, be quite random. It just wouldn't do for my chess set to suddenly start telling a joke in the middle of the battle. No, only five had all the qualifications: Joanna Wlotzka, Peter Pettigrew, Rosalie McKinnon, Percy Weasley, and myself.

I had to cast the spell.

Peter, Rosalie, and Joanna were dead.

It rather simplified the decision process.

It might surprise some people to know that Percy is an imaginative genius. He is, let me assure you; however, he has a bit of a complex about it. He is convinced that it is no good to stand out from the crowd. One must always follow the example, or one was not doing it, whatever "it" is, correctly. Thus, he always strives to hide his creativity, to shove it under a rug, so to speak. It has been one of my great failures as a teacher that I could never get him to stop doing that.

Naturally, I had to go about recruiting Mr. Weasley in such a way that he wouldn't notice anything odd about it. I pondered this for a while, and finally decided I would just ask him to help me with "a spell". I would not specify, but I would insist that it had to do with playing chess, and that the entire time be spent doing just that.

It worked. We played perhaps fifteen games of chess one Saturday, and by the end, the board on which we were playing had absorbed the essence of his style.

Everyone I've ever known who has been an accomplished chess player has had the ability for a reason... there is always a story behind it. With this in mind, I asked, as he stood to leave, what his was. He smiled at me, in that charming but sycophantic way of his, and said, "Oh, I just learned as a defense against my brother. Wait until you get Ron here, Professor, you'll see. He's far better than I am, he's never lost."

My heart nearly stopped. I had just lost two of every three matches we played! And his brother was better than he was?! I thought quickly. "Is he really?" I asked, "I would love to play against him some time. Perhaps when he comes to Hogwarts... when did you say that was?"

Percy's smile never wavered. "Next year, Professor McGonagall," he replied eagerly. "I'll make sure I tell him you play so well!"

"Please do," I replied weakly. Good heavens! This man's brother, coming to Hogwarts as soon as I got my chess set up? God hated me, I was sure.

I suppose, in the end, it turned out to be a good thing that Ron was the only one who could reliably beat Percy, but I don't suppose he'll ever realize why I was so unnerved to find him in that corridor.