You Win

Canape 12: You Win

It was a rainy afternoon. The kind of dismal rain that encouraged one to stay inside, Saturday or no. So the Potters were. Inside. In their flat. Laying about. And Harry was bored, bored, bored.

So he turned to Pansy and said, “Let’s play a game.”

She half-shrugged. “I always win.”

“Oh, do you now?” he replied with a glint in his eye.

--@--@--

They lay across from each other on their bellies on the cleared-off carpet. A magically drawn circle separated the adversaries, comprising the battle field.

Pansy’s tongue peeped out the corner of her mouth as she lined up her last shot. She casually flicked her thumb, which sent the smooth stone cradled on her grandmother’s Aubusson rug in a true push toward Harry’s last man, knocking it out of the circle as it careened toward the “mother” gobstone. Harry groaned and dropped his head to his folded arms just as a healthy dose of muck landed in his hair. It matched the patch decorating his neck.

“I win,” Pansy murmured and smiled sweetly.

--@--@--

The pile of cards teetered precariously on the wagon wheel coffee table between them. Harry flipped a card and added it to the stack. He had to nudge Pansy into action, as she was idly watching the wind flatten the raindrops against the window in odd, almost kaleidoscopic patterns. It was mesmerizing.

She flipped a card and carefully placed it atop the teetering tower, her eyes still on the window. She looked up at Harry’s sharp intake of breath, just in time to see the pile blow up in his face, the flurry of cards making odd, almost kaleidoscopic patterns as they fell to the carpet.

“Best of seven, then?” she inquired smugly.

--@--@--

Harry contemplated the checkered board before him, unwilling to concede defeat. No matter how he looked at it, his king was surrounded and about to be checkmated. By a pawn. Again. Pansy sat across from him, tapping her wand against her fingernails, producing an array of pretty effects, none of which seemed to please her much.

He finally tipped over his King with a sigh, and she stood up from the table, her expression carefully blank, not meeting his eyes.

It was the Slytherin equivalent of “HA!”

As she passed him on her way to the kitchen, he tripped her neatly, cushioning her fall to the floor. He swiftly and efficiently straddled her, her arms pinned over her head in his gentle grasp and grinned down at her. She struggled against him briefly, but there was no hope.

His smile widened.

A glint entered her eye and she rolled her hips upward, smiling sweetly.

Harry moaned and said, “You win,” as his lips crashed down onto hers.

~*~*~*~*~

Originally written for the pphp_ldws LiveJournal community.

This was my first attempt at the 250 word freestyle entry, inspired by a friend's comment that he "always wins any game he plays" and an in-joke of sorts between Manda & me. It came in at 460-odd words. I didn't have the heart to cut it any further than I had.

I decided to present to my most worthy opponent, somandalicious, as either a congratulatory or consolation gift. You always win in my book, bb.

The Potters played Gobstones, Exploding Snap and wizard chess.