Black Knight, White Queen

Black Knight, White Queen

Chapter 2: Bishops and Rooks

Bishops: When together, bishops are strong pieces because they may go diagonally in any direction. Separated, they are weak, because each bishop must remain on the same color square for the duration of the game.



Rooks: The rooks are slightly more powerful than the bishop, able to move vertically or horizontally in any direction. They too are strongest when together.

Late in the night Draco returned, blood covering a good portion of his clothing and a limp to his step that made Hermione wonder how much of the blood was his. Anger had filled her before, but over the day she'd spent stuck in his room she had calmed. It was not in her nature to allow the suffering of others if there was anything within her power to change it, even if 'others' included those she might claim to want dead. She felt compelled to help, and so walked wordlessly over to him once he had the door shut and warded.



His clothes were caked with blood and mud, making them stiff and strange to the touch. Not the easiest things to remove, but she made quick work of his outer layers. Draco watched her with a hard expression for a moment, finally relaxing after deciding that she had no ulterior motive. She was a Gryffindor, and it should come as no surprise to see her acting like one.



He sat down on the edge of the bed and moved as little as possible while she worked, and when enough of the clothing had been removed she realized why. The majority of the blood that adorned him was not his, and so she assumed that his opponent had gotten the worst end of things, but it seemed that he had not been able to protect himself from everything.



He had gashes in his side, just under his ribcage, which seemed to be caused by a particularly nasty hex. She knew that any movement, even breathing, must be hurting him terribly, and yet he showed no sign of the pain. It was if he was numbed by his experiences, and it caused her to wonder just how much there was about him that she didn't know.



She cleaned his wounds carefully, taking his wand without asking permission and using it to perform a couple of healing charms on him. He raised his eyebrow at that, but still said nothing. It wasn't until she had him cleaned up, healed, and redressed in fresh clothes that he saw fit to speak.



"What I meant earlier..." he began awkwardly, "you should know, Granger, that I'm not so bad as you think I am. There was an... unexpected turn of events that changed things for me. I can't explain what they were, but I didn't mean for you to be harmed. I'm not going to hurt you now either, not if I can help it. Just don't make things more complicated for me. I can only protect you so far if the Dark Lord suspects treachery."



Hermione just nodded robotically, unsure of what the correct response might be. Inactivity had tired her as much as activity had tired him, and it wasn't long before both of them sought sleep. Her sleep didn't last long though before nightmares woke her, and she knew that she must have made noise when she felt Draco reaching out to her. He hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. The movement caused him to grunt softly in pain, but he didn't loosen his grip.



"I'm still angry with you, Malfoy," she whispered, only partially conscious as she relaxed in his arms. Enemy of not, her body recognized the need for comfort, and Draco seemed willing enough to offer it. Had she been surrounded by her friends then she likely wouldn't have allowed herself anywhere near him, but she was not and so her subconscious was making her decisions for her, taking what it could and hoping for the best.



-x-x-x-x-x-



The next morning as she began to wake, Hermione mostly expected to find Draco already gone. She felt as though she had slept well into the day, but sure enough when she sat up she saw him sitting in the corner of the room with an open book in his hands. He looked up for a moment, smiling briefly in acknowledgment.



"Feeling better?" she asked, wondering why he was still here and not out doing his Dark Lord's bidding, but not wanting to ask out right.



"Mostly," he said, closing the book. "I'll be sore for a few days, but it will pass soon enough. Thank you for helping me last night. You didn't have to."



She nodded in answer, still clutching the blankets tightly around her. Her body was still damaged, but her curiosity wasn't. She couldn't help but ask questions. "Why did you ask for me, Malfoy? Why would you care about my fate?"



He just looked at her for a good minute before speaking. "Because, I felt like it," he drawled finally, as if it was a matter of no importance in the slightest.



It was an answer, finally, but probably the least helpful one that she could imagine. 'He felt like it' could mean anything. "I thought you couldn't stand the sight of me," she said slowly, trying to bait him into answering her. "Do you really hate me so much that you wanted to personally see me miserable? I know you spoke of keeping me safe, but I don't understand why you would want to."



The book that had been in his hand connected with a wall and his expression was full of finally released anger. "Do you really think so badly of me, even now?" he asked, sneering. "Can you tell me what harm has befallen you in my care?"



"I--," she began, then stopped short. There was really nothing to be said because the truth was that she hadn't been harmed by him. Not yet. "You just, you always hated me. I'm just Potter's Mudblood friend to you."



"Let me explain some things to you," he continued angrily. "At the moment I have no intention of allowing any harm to come to you. Just because I said cruel things as a child doesn't mean I want you hurt now, but neither will I choose to explain unless I decide I want to. I'm becoming even less inclined to do so the more you question me so incessantly."



At that moment she felt like a petulant child that had been threatened with a spanking. Still, he was being far kinder to her than she would have ever expected before. She wondered if she needed to brace herself for when he would inevitably change his mind and return to the cruel boy she'd known at Hogwarts, but so far it didn't seem like such a blow would come.



"Okay, I'm so--" she started, but stopped short when she saw him clutch his left forearm in pain. He wasted no time in grabbing his wand and cloak and walking out the door. She sat there in the silence for some time before she walked over, picked up the book he had thrown, and began reading.



-x-x-x-x-x-



That night when he finally returned it was like déjà vu. He was covered in blood once more. He limped over to the bed and laid down, and from where Hermione sat it didn't look like it had been a fair fight. Moving wordlessly to his side, she began again to clean and heal his wounds. He was far more injured this time, and from the sort of wounds that had been inflicted she couldn't help but suspect it had been done for Voldemort's pleasure.



When he was cleaned up and resting peacefully, Hermione looked at him and couldn't help but feel sorry for him. It didn't matter what she felt he'd done to her and those she cared about. The dark shadows under his eyes, half healed gashes in his sides, and fresh bruises that marred his skin spoke for themselves. Retrieving the chess board brought by the house elves, she began taking it out and setting it up on the bed. "Fancy a game?" she asked him softly.



Draco opened his eyes, surprised that she'd known he wasn't sleeping. A brief smirk adorned his lips when he saw the chess board. "I thought you might like that game," he told her. "I never saw you play Wizard's Chess with Potter or Weasley, but it seemed like the sort of game you'd be good at."



"Wizard's Chess is just so brutal," said Hermione, carefully studying his first move and planning her response. "It makes the game seem more like a game of destruction than one of logic and strategy."



"Isn't strategy all about destruction?" asked Draco softly.



"Not to a Gryffindor," said Hermione with a slight laugh, "though perhaps that's why strategy isn't something we are known for."



"Won't argue with that," said Draco with a smirk. "Check."