Dance of the Knights → 𝘳. 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘺

iii. a worthy rival

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three

a worthy rival

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Juniper was unpopular, but it had never bothered her much.

She couldn't bring herself to worry about the subpar marks she got in many of her classes, and she'd come to terms with the fact there were fewer decent teachers in that school than there were complete morons Dumbledore was keeping out of his supposed goodwill.

But there was one terrible part of life at Hogwarts that she just couldn't accept.

Wizard's chess: The proverbial thorn in her flesh. The pain in her neck. The fly in the ointment.

Juniper realized, of course, that wizard's chess was a problem in the wizarding world entirely, not just in Hogwarts. But, when she was outside of Hogwarts, she could play chess with Muggles on a Muggle chessboard if she so wished. If she tried that within the castle walls, she'd be treated like an aberration.

What's with the Muggle set? I have wizard's chess right here, they'd always say.

Perhaps it was a product of her upbringing. Everything about wizard's chess went against principles that had been drilled into her head since childhood.

Chess games were supposed to be quiet. Her father and grandfather would shout at anyone or anything that made noise. If Juniper ever said something other than 'check' or 'checkmate' (which, while playing her father and granddad, she almost never got to), she'd get scolded. They were so serious about it, her father once made her mother put a temporary silencing charm on their family dog who was barking at a squirrel outside.

Silence was necessary, so Juniper had been taught, to have no distractions while planning moves and anticipating the opponent's answers. It was also a little like poker—you didn't want your competition knowing you were struggling. Even worse, if you had a brilliant idea, you wouldn't want to potentially lead them to discover your scheme, allowing them extra time to figure out how to thwart it with the best reply.

Wizard's chess was the antithesis to this principle. It necessitated that the players ask, out loud, for the pieces to move. It was tremendously distracting and, Juniper could not stress this enough, unnecessary. It wasn't even more convenient. Also, it took three times as long because the pieces slid across the board far slower than a human hand could move them.

(Her grandfather, a grandmaster, had been revolted when he saw Juniper playing wizard's chess with Oren for the first time, and demanded Elowen give the set away at once.)

That wasn't even the worst part. Juniper would like nothing more than to have a chat with whomever's idea it was to make the chess pieces sentient.

It was like having to deal with a difficult coworker. The chess pieces thought they knew best, and would sometimes interject their unsolicited suggestions.

("No, don't move that rook, you should use me!" a bishop would say. "No, move me to e4 instead. We'll take that pawn," a knight would interject. They would even sometimes heckle the opponent's pieces.)

And, because the wizards who enchanted the pieces weren't great at chess, the advice was usually not to be trusted.

The only way to get them to stop making comments would be to gain their trust. And, the only way to do that was to own the same chessboard for quite a while and prove to the pieces that you were not actually rubbish at chess, as they assumed.