Stalemate

Stalemate

Hermione Granger came through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor Common Room, loaded down with books she'd just obtained from the library. Ron Weasley, one of her best friends, suddenly appeared at her elbow as though she'd cast a Summoning Charm on him.

"Let me help you with that," he said, taking her heavy bookbag from her. He furrowed his brow for a moment as he took its full weight, then grinned at her. "Does the library have any books left?"

A few short weeks ago, that might have started a fight. However, Hermione had been very careful not to allow arguments to happen ever since their last blow-up had led to them sharing a moment alone in the Common Room. Whether she was more afraid of the fight itself or of the making up that might come after it, she had not even dared to ask herself.

In any case, Hermione was suspicious as she watched Ron carry her bag over to where their other best friend, Harry Potter, was sitting. Ron wasn't usually this solicitous with her, although it was amazing how pleasant their association had become since she had made the decision not to allow him to get under her skin when he tossed off his occasional thoughtless comments. Still, there had been a certain tension in his voice....

After Hermione had joined the two boys in the cluster of chairs around a table, Ron cleared his throat. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione caught Harry shaking his head, as though in disagreement about something.

"Hermione, I thought you could use a break after all the work you've been doing," Ron went on anyway. "Would you like to play some chess?"

Something funny was definitely going on. Chess was the one thing Ron did better than Hermione, aside from flying. What was he up to?

"That doesn't sound like much of a mental break," she pointed out.

"I thought maybe we could play for a little friendly wager," he replied. Then, in a rush, he added, "If I win, you'll go to the Valentine's Ball with me."

Hermione stared at him, then looked over at Harry. Harry, however, was studiously avoiding her gaze, which eloquently explained the shaking of his head earlier. She looked back at Ron, noting his anxious expression and the way he kept fidgeting. Clearly, he really wanted to go with her, and he didn't want to just ask her because he was afraid of her answer. Maybe that was why he'd selected this roundabout way of asking her. However, if Hermione said yes, wouldn't that be the same as agreeing to go with him? After all, in the five years and more that she had known him, she had never once seen him lose a chess game. She needed a little time to think.

"What do I get if I win?" she asked as a stalling maneuver. She didn't really have any hopes of winning, of course, but she needed to consider the potential consequences of any decision she might make.

"Anything I can give you," Ron answered earnestly. Hermione looked him straight in the eye and saw that he meant it. He would give her absolutely anything that was in his power, and he didn't seem altogether sure that he would win. It was the complete trust that won her over.

"All right, then," she said. "If I win, I'll decide after the game what I want from you."

This put the advantage on her side, since she knew the stake that she was playing for, but he did not. He made no argument to this, however, and they began setting up the pieces. The fact that this was necessary convinced Hermione that she had made the right decision. Ron had obviously not even been confident that he could talk her into the game. She noticed that his hands shook slightly as he set his pieces out.

Hermione needed to stall to figure out her strategy, but she got the first move, so she surveyed the board. The first move or two weren't that important anyway.

"Queen's knight forward two and one to the right," she instructed her pieces.

"You aren't supposed to do it that way!" said Ron, even as the knight complied.

"What difference does it make?" Hermione shrugged. In fact, she'd never really bothered to learn the grid layout, not finding it essential to her education. However, she didn't want Ron to know that, not when she was already at a disadvantage. "They do what I ask, anyway."

"Well, you are such a pretty lass," her king said, bowing slightly to her.

"Don't editorialize," Ron snapped at the king, flushing. "Just play the game."

Hermione studied Ron as his color receded so that only his ears were red. He was off-balance now; maybe she could use that to her advantage. He moved a pawn forward; she blocked it almost carelessly with one of her own.

Hermione doubted that she could distract Ron enough to allow her a chance of winning this game. Why didn't she just play to lose? It was a foregone conclusion anyway, and it might shorten the torture for both of them.

Ron moved a knight this time, and Hermione considered how he might react if she just played stupidly and let him win easily. She pretended to be considering her next move as she surveyed the board, sneaking glances at him once in a while.

For one thing, he would certainly see what she was doing immediately. Was she sure she wanted that? What if he called her on it?

Hermione moved another pawn forward. She observed Ron again and noted that he seemed to be playing much more slowly and deliberately than usual. She realized that this was really important to him. A flash of intuition hit her as she thought suddenly that he must have done this to boost his confidence. Everyone knew that chess was perhaps the one thing that Ron did better than she did. In a way, he was trying to win her!

Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about this new understanding. She knew that women these days weren't supposed to like being seen as a prize, but she actually found it kind of flattering. Ron was trying to prove, possibly to her, but at least to himself, that he was worthy of her.

It seemed like a lot of trouble to go to for one date. A lump rose in Hermione's throat as she remembered the look she'd seen in his eyes during their shared moment those weeks ago. It wasn't just about one date at all. That meant that she couldn't play it lightly, either. As far as Ron was concerned, the rest of his life might hinge on the outcome of this game.

In a way, it was ironic that Ron didn't think he deserved her. In fact, there were many things about him that Hermione envied. His unhesitating willingness to sacrifice himself for others, for example. Also the nearly unswerving loyalty he had for those he cared about, his ability to set little things aside to focus on the big picture, and even his tendency to instantly express every emotion he experienced. What was Hermione, really, other than a bushy-haired, bossy bookworm?

On the other hand, Ron had known her for several years now. Surely he knew her faults and weaknesses just as well as she knew his. If he had decided that she was the One for him, it was not through blindness but knowledge.

No, Ron wasn't the problem; it was Hermione herself, who couldn't decide what she wanted. She did want to go to the ball with him; on that much, she was clear. If she allowed herself to go deeper, she also knew that she loved him. She had decided that some time ago. The only thing she wasn't sure of was why she objected to the implications she sensed. Was it simply because she was only sixteen and not yet ready to sign her life away?

During these ruminations, several more moves had been made on the board, causing Hermione to feel more and more trapped. She was pretty sure it was too late to back out. That would be a forfeit, and she had a feeling Ron wouldn't accept that at this stage of the game.

For a moment, Hermione allowed herself to envision life married to Ron. She had never thought about it before, but she realized that she would have to virtually give up the Muggle world. Ron could never function in it, however much he might try. She would still be able to see her parents, of course, since they already knew she was a witch, but what about their relatives? Hermione had generally embraced the wizard world, but she had never considered the potential consequences of joining it forever.

Besides, even if she decided that she could do it, Hermione felt that she did not want her entire life to be dictated by one chess game.

What were her choices, then? If she played to win, she would lose. If she played to lose, she would lose. However, if she did that, Ron would probably either drag the game out until she began trying or would request another one. He needed to feel that he had won fairly, not that she had allowed him. Hermione wasn't sure how she knew this, and even as the thought sprang into her head she thought it sounded like some silly masculine thing, but she was absolutely certain it was true.

The pauses between moves seemed to drag out longer and longer. Hermione was grateful for this, as it gave her more time to think. However, the tension of the two players seemed to communicate itself to the other Gryffindors in the room, and they were gradually gaining an audience. Hermione didn't know how many others knew about the wager, but it made her nervous anyway. She risked a glance up at Ron, seeing that he seemed to be similarly affected. The color had now drained out of his skin, and the freckles on his face stood out in sharp relief.

Hermione had to make a decision. She dug a little deeper into her psyche and found, to her surprise, that the main thing holding her back from a relationship with Ron was that she was afraid that she couldn't make him happy. She looked across at Ron, studying him as he concentrated on the board. She realized that he must have the same worry, based on his insecurity in this whole affair, but he wasn't allowing that to stop him. Yet another thing for her to admire.

At last, Hermione decided. She would play this game as well as she could, lose, and go on the date. Maybe she could pretend they were going as friends. Maybe she was wrong about everything she was reading. Whatever happened after the ball, she would deal with it then. There was no point in trying to solve problems that didn't even exist yet. Resigned, she moved her queen.

As Ron pondered his next move, however, a brilliant idea came to Hermione out of nowhere. There was a third choice, if she could pull it off. She could attempt to play to a stalemate. That way, neither of them would win, and her free will would still be her own. She surveyed the board more intently than she had done at any time since this game began. It would be difficult, but she thought she might manage it.

From that point on, Hermione simply played to counter every move Ron made, going almost completely on the defensive. She played just aggressively enough to try to get one piece of his for every one of hers he took, but then she would back off again. This was not as hard as she had anticipated because her conservative playing led him to take risks he might not otherwise take. Hermione was fairly certain that he would figure out what she was doing eventually. She only hoped that it would be too late by then for him to recover.

"What are you playing at?" Ron asked suddenly in a sharp tone. Hermione's heart sped up; the moment she had been dreading had come at last.

"What do you mean?" she answered, trying to keep her tone and expression as innocent as possible without overdoing it. Ron's eyes narrowed, however, and she could see that he wasn't buying it.

"This is going to end in a stalemate," he replied. "What's more, I think that's what you wanted. Why?"

"Shall we play it out, then?" Hermione asked.

"What's the point?" Ron answered. "Besides, you still haven't answered my question. Why?"

Hermione took a deep breath to prepare herself for what she was about to do. Then, she leaned over the board and signaled him to do the same.

"Why couldn't you just ask me like a normal person?" she whispered. She regretted her choice of words almost immediately, but it was too late to take them back. Instead, she watched as Ron pulled back a little, turned bright red, and lowered his eyes.

"I - I was - I didn't..." he stammered. Hermione decided to rescue him, but only partially.

"I've seen you risk your life and limb for everything from absolute evil to a friend to a Quidditch match. Why is asking a simple question so difficult?"

Ron murmured something in response, but she didn't catch it.

"Sorry?" she said. "Could you repeat that?"

"I said," Ron replied, once again leaning across the board but still not looking at her, "'The body heals.'"

Now it was Hermione's turn to sit back in her chair, stunned. For a moment, she recalled what Madam Pomfrey had said last year: "Sometimes thoughts leave deeper scars than anything else." Hermione felt a lump rise in her throat as she realized exactly how greatly Ron feared her rejection. The power she felt over him was at once intoxicating and frightening. She began to say something but became suddenly very aware of their rapt audience.

"I feel like going for a walk," she said, knowing how lame it sounded and not caring. "Would you care to join me?"

Ron looked up at her with an expression that asked why she was changing the subject in the middle of so weighty a conversation. Hermione gave him a significant look and indicated the surrounding Gryffindors with her eyes. She could see understanding dawn in his eyes, and he nodded.

"Yes, I think I could do with a bit of fresh air," he responded, a bit theatrically, perhaps, but it didn't matter.

Neither of them spoke as they left Gryffindor Tower and headed outside to the lake. The sun had already gone down, but the moon was bright in the sky and reflected off the frost on the ground. Hermione found that, now they were here, she had no idea how to proceed. Rejecting her usual methods, she decided on a direct approach.

"Why don't you just try me?" she asked him. Ron looked at her uncertainly, then gathered his courage.

"Will you go to the ball with me?" he asked rather quickly.

"Of course," Hermione said, smiling. "See? Was that so hard?"

"You've no idea," he said, but he was grinning, too. Suddenly, he stepped forward and hugged her. She hugged him back, and neither of them showed any inclination to back up again. Hermione watched her breath fogging the air and smiled to herself. Although the fear was still there, she felt a strange sense of relief that this step had finally been taken. She had the feeling that she had just agreed to far more than one ball, but she discovered that the prospect wasn't nearly as unpleasant as she had thought.