Cho Chang looked at the wizard chess set Harry had laid out on the table with surprise.
"Where did you get this set?"
While arranging the pieces, Harry replied,
"I had Hagrid make it for me."
"All set. You know how to play, right?"
"Of course I do. And I'm definitely better than you," Cho said with surprising confidence, a stark contrast to her usual calm demeanor.
Harry chuckled, "Don't come crying home to mummy when you lose."
Cho shot him a frosty glare that hit like an icy blast. Harry flinched instinctively.
She took the first move.
With a command, her cannon piece slid forward to the center of the board.
Harry raised an eyebrow. Cho clearly knew more than just the basic rules.
When he used to play chess with Hermione, she'd move pieces completely at random. It wasn't until after losing repeatedly that she started imitating Harry's opening moves.
"You've studied chess before?" he asked.
"Nope, but my dad taught me. He used to be on China's national chess team. Intimidated yet?"
Harry tensed. He wasn't a pro; his edge came from being able to calculate several moves ahead. Against an adult with even basic training, he didn't have much chance. If Cho had really absorbed a lot from her father, then the two of them might be evenly matched.
…
A bead of cold sweat trickled down Harry's forehead. If he lost… that would be beyond embarrassing.
"Afraid? I, Harry Potter, have never feared anyone. You'd better pray you don't lose too badly."
"Hmph."
They began to play seriously.
Each move was deliberate and calculated. The board became a battlefield—sacrificed rooks, darting knights, fearless pawns, thundering bishops…
—
Time flew by. When the bells finally rang, they looked up from the board.
After sitting all morning, Harry stood and stretched with a groan.
"So? Admit defeat?"
Cho pouted. "If we kept going, I might've won this round. Come on, one more!"
Harry laughed at how much she resembled a little girl denied candy.
Honestly, he had been worried he might lose. Thankfully, Cho hadn't fully internalized her father's tactics.
"Cho, you're getting cheeky," he said, waggling his eyebrows.
Cho flushed and snapped, "Who's being cheeky?"
"You tell me. Someone was about to lose and insisted on undoing five whole moves. Five!"
"Definitely wasn't me," Cho huffed, committed to denial.
Sure, the constant losses stung a little, but being called pretty by Harry left her with a secret sweetness in her heart—not that she'd ever show it.
—
"I can't believe the whole morning's gone already. Feels like we didn't do anything," Cho murmured, packing the pieces away like a sweet little housewife.
Harry grinned.
"I think Merlin once said, 'Time flies when you're with someone you like.' That's what you meant, right?"
Cho picked up a chess piece and threw it at him.
"That's what you wanted to say!"
Harry caught it midair and placed it back on the board.
"It feels like we just finished breakfast, and now it's already time for lunch. If the whole break goes like this, I'll be bored to death," he sighed.
Cho nodded. She didn't mind spending her days reading, but if there were ways to make life more interesting, she certainly wouldn't object.
Suddenly Harry slapped his forehead.
"Oh right! I still haven't gone to pick up that book."
"What book?"
Harry gave her a mischievous smile.
"Let's eat first. You'll see this afternoon."
Cho narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
"Alright then…"
If Hermione were here, she would've snorted, "That's your evil grin again."
—
Cho's face turned red as she leaned in and whispered,
"Why did you use my spoon?"
Harry casually scooped some pumpkin soup and replied,
"Oh, that? Mine fell on the floor."
He said it like it was the most reasonable thing in the world.
"But there's a whole clean set right next to you!"
"I thought they looked dirty."
Cho almost fainted. "I'll have you know—I have AIDS."
Harry smiled, took another spoonful, and said with a smirk,
"Perfect. Then we're in it together."
Cho decided to drop it. No matter how she argued, she'd come out second best.
—
After lunch, Cho asked,
"What book is it? Is it not in the library?"
"Nope. Just follow me."
Harry glanced at the still-stoic Professor Snape and left the Great Hall.
"We're heading to… the dungeons?" Cho asked, recognizing the path.
"Yup."
If it weren't for retrieving Snape's Potions notebook, Harry wouldn't have stepped out in this freezing cold—his ears felt like they were about to snap off.
Looking at the thick snow outside, he blew into his hands and said,
"Hey, Cho, let's build a snowman tomorrow morning."
"Yes!" she said, immediately brightening.
They arrived at the shadowy dungeon—it was even colder than outside. A few broken windows let in freezing gusts of wind.
Seeing the jars of organs and dim lighting, Cho instinctively moved closer to Harry.
Harry headed to a dirty glass cabinet in the corner, its surface sticky with grime. Inside were piles of worn-out textbooks. When he opened the glass, a wave of musty odor poured out.
Cho coughed twice.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine. Just... this smell is awful," she said, pinching her nose.
"So the book is here?"
"Yeah. Looks like it's going to take a while to find."
"I'll help. What are we looking for?"
"A Potions notebook full of personal notes. The owner went by 'The Half-Blood Prince.'"
"Half-Blood Prince? Sounds like he's just half of a half."
"You're so clever!" she giggled.
"Haha."
—
Harry levitated the stack of old books down to the floor with his wand.
They knelt to search, and Harry cast Lumos to light the area.
Halfway through the pile, Harry opened a battered copy of Advanced Potion-Making. It was filthy—many pages stained with ink—but the annotations were still legible.
Almost every page was filled with tightly packed notes.
At the bottom of one page, Harry noticed a tiny line of handwriting:
This book is the property of the Half-Blood Prince.
.
.
.
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