Checkmate

The Game Part 4

I love him too much
What if he saw my whole existence
Turning around a word, a smile, a touch?

Lyrics from "Heaven Help My Heart" from Chess by Benny Anderson, Tim Rice and Björn Ulvaeus

* * * * *

When Draco didn't show up for breakfast, Harry began to get worried. He barely paid attention to Seamus's attempts to tease him about how late he had gotten back to their room last night. All he could think about was to worry if he had done the spells wrong, or put Draco to sleep so deeply that he hadn't woken up yet. Should he try to sneak up to Draco's room to check on him? Finally, just when he, Ron, and Hermione were getting up to go to Potions class, and Harry was desperately trying to think of some excuse to get away from his friends so he could run up to Draco's room, he saw Draco slip in the door. Draco grabbed a couple of muffins from the end of the Slytherin table, and immediately slipped back out again. He didn't even glance in Harry's direction. Harry felt a little less worried, at least the magic he had done last night hadn't gone wrong, but still . . . Why didn't he look for me?

Things were not any better in class. When Harry walked in, Draco was already in his seat, with his head bent over his Potions text. Draco didn't look up, didn't sneak a smile at him, or in any way acknowledge that Harry had walked in, though Harry could sense that the other boy was acutely aware of it. To anyone else, Draco must have looked as cool and unruffled as usual, but Harry could feel the effort he was making to keep up that façade. The tension he felt coming from Draco was palpable. Something was definitely wrong. Harry felt heartsick. What had happened? Things had been so good last night. But all he could do was sit down, try not to worry, and wait for class to be over, then find a way to catch Draco and talk to him.

Snape swept into the classroom, then stood, stern and ominous, at the front of the room, his arms crossed, surveying the students with deliberate contempt. He raked Harry with a particularly intense and menacing glare. Then he turned and looked straight at Draco, who was still resolutely gazing down at his book. "Can anyone explain the significance of the potion you were assigned to study last night?" said Snape, in his usual low condescending tone. No one moved. Everyone knew that Snape was asking Draco. But Draco didn't answer, in fact, he seemed not to have heard the question at all, and silence stretched out for a long, long moment, before whispers started to creep around the edges of the room.

What is wrong with him, thought Harry. He knows this. Finally, Harry couldn't take the tension any longer. He raised his hand, something he had never, ever, done before in this class.

Snape was frowning at Draco, but turned as the motion of Harry's hand going up caught his eye. Then he looked dumbfounded. "Potter!?"

Harry knew that Snape was not calling on him, but had simply said his name from the sheer shock of seeing him raise his hand. But Harry answered the question anyway. At least he could take Snape's attention off Draco, and let the other boy know that he had learned something from their talk last night. He carefully repeated the entire explanation Draco had given him. As he talked, Harry could see only one side of Draco's face, and that only at an angle from the back, so he might be mistaken, but he thought he saw a hint of rose-pink creep over that pale skin. Harry could also see, from the corner of his eye, that Hermione and Ron were watching him with matching stunned expressions on their faces.

When Harry finished talking, Snape stared at him with narrowed eyes. His upper lip curled as if he had bitten off something distasteful. Then with a tone that sounded like acid was dripping from his mouth, Snape said, "Very impressive, Mr. Potter. Ten points to Gryffindor." The Gryffindor side of the room erupted instantly in cheers and applause, which were quelled almost as instantly by a venomous black look from the professor.