Magic Meets Might

Chapter 1

Written by Moh (jasongrace567)

 

Harry Potter

           

            “Oh, come on,” Harry complained. “He's a bishop! Squash him, you prat, squash him! You're a knight, not a coward!”

            Ron let out a hoot of triumph, raising his arms in the air in a gesture of victory when Harry's knight opted to cower behind a pawn. The pawn scooted away from the knight and Ron’s bishop promptly smashed the both of them to bits.

            “That’s not even allowed!” Hermione protested, her eyes wide as she took in the remains of the two chess pieces. “It can't be!”

            Ron shrugged, still grinning from ear to ear. “Who cares? As long as I win. Again,” he added smugly, smirking at Harry who made a disgruntled noise and sat back in his chair, glaring at the Ron’s bishop. “Shall we go again, Harry?” Ron asked in an innocent voice.

            “Oh, stuff it,” Harry muttered, pushing the chessboard away, his pathetic defeat wounding his pride and ego. “I'm done playing.”

            “Ronald Bilius Weasley!” came a shriek from several floors below, making the three of them jump in surprise.

            “What’ve you done now?” Hermione demanded in a whisper, glaring at Ron as though he had surely done something to anger Mrs. Weasley. “She used your middle name, Ronald, it must be bad!”

            “I haven’t done anything!” Ron protested, his eyes wide. “Nothing, I swear!”

            “Ron!”

            “Oh, God,” Ron muttered under his breath, standing up from his bed, the chess game forgotten. He groaned quietly before opening his bedroom door and stumping down the stairs, Harry and Hermione following close behind him. They hurried down the many flights of stairs at The Burrow until they were in the kitchen with a red-faced Mrs. Weasley waiting for them. Behind her, Mr. Weasley looked quite upset as well; he was holding a piece of parchment in his hand and had his arms crossed across his chest. “Hi, Mum,” Ron said nervously, his eyes flicking between his mother and father apprehensively. “Did the mail come? Anything for me?”

            Mrs. Weasley’s eyes narrowed; she clearly wasn’t buying his (quite pathetic) act. “Your father has just found your Hogwarts letter in the rubbish bin, Ron. What have you got to say for yourself?”

            “My Hogwarts…” Ron’s face lit up in understanding. “Oh, that.”

            “Yes,” Mrs. Weasley seethed. “That. Would you three,” her eyes flicked to Hermione and Harry who were standing awkwardly behind Ron, trying to blend into the wall (and failing miserably), “care to explain why you're not going to Hogwarts this year and achieving your NEWTs? Hermione, I would’ve thought you, of all people, would’ve wanted to go back!”

            Hermione cowered slightly and her face lost a bit of color. Harry understood why; no one wanted to answer Mrs. Weasley when she was angry for fear of saying the wrong thing and making things worse. Harry himself was sincerely hoping she didn’t say anything to him in particular; Mrs. Weasley had never gotten mad at him before and he wasn’t very keen on changing that now.

            “I, well, I…” Her voice trailed off and turned high-pitched as Mrs. Weasley’s eyes narrowed slightly.

            “Mum, come on,” Ron said sharply. “Hermione’s not going because Harry and I aren’t going.”