𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄
chapter sixteen; You May Think You're Winning, But . . . 
" They aren't chess pieces for you to play with, Sal, they're people. "

   ALRIGHT, SALEM KNEW she shouldn't have asked it. This was very important for the events that followed the question (and its answer) but, really, Salem was well aware she shouldn't have fed Sirius any mixed signals.

  She was just morbidly curious. She had to know why someone would want to kiss her, and specifically why the boy who laughed at the idea of fancying her had attempted it.

  "Can I ask you something?" Salem shattered the silence in the common room, making Sirius glance up from his book briefly, "Sirius."

  "Yes, yes, you've got my full attention," He sighed, closing the pages, "Ask away."

  "Why do you like me?"

  Sirius' brows furrowed.

  "It's just, it's very hard to believe," The redhead explained, "I mean, you. . . you didn't. Ever. At all. But now. . ?"

  "Now I'm not a daft kid."

  "That's up for debate."

  "I just mean I can see how. . . great you are," Sirius smiled, "You're brilliant, brave, gorgeous. You're kind, even though you don't want to be, and you're probably the toughest person I've ever met."

  Salem also knew she shouldn't have done what she did, but there were too many contributing factors. The first was simple; Sirius Black was her first-ever crush and here he was, confessing his feelings for her. The second; Salem had never heard someone say such nice, genuine things to her before. 

  The third was the selfish one. The one that screamed Salem Gerard, that followed her trend; If she kissed Sirius Black, everything would be forgotten. Dottie would understand not telling James, as this would shatter a friendship, Sirius wouldn't have any want for her to confess it either, and Lily would heal knowing Salem's intentions were not James Potter.

  There should've been another one. The one that screamed butterflies and blushing, the reason everyone had. Salem should've fancied Sirius back. Liked him the way he liked her. But she didn't. It wasn't her heart telling her to lean over their homework and kiss him, it was her head. Because this was the way out of the mess.

  Or, that's what she thought.

  "What'd you do that for?"

  "I don't know," Salem admitted quietly, sitting back into comfort— close, but not too close.

  "Oh," Sirius nodded, clearing his throat, "Alright."

  The boy shuffled, opening up his book, and continuing to read. Or, that's what it looked like, because in reality, Sirius Black was freaking the hell out.

  "I don't want to date you," Salem blurted, making Sirius look up, "I, uh, figured I should be upfront with that. I don't want a relationship with you. But I like spending time with you, and you're fit, so. . ."

  "You think I'm fit."

  "Sod off," She mumbled, slumping against the coffee table. "Yes."

  "Ah, it feels good to finally hear," He chuckled, "I'm not the relationship type, Gerard. Always up for a little fling."

  "You really fancy me this time, though?"

  Sirius furrowed his brows at her sudden vulnerability and opted out of a verbal response because— in his eyes— leaning over and pushing her firefly hair out of her face and capturing her lips in a kiss did a better job of explaining than he ever could.

  "I did not expect to ever see that."

  James' remark sent Salem and Sirius away from eachother— their brief interlocking of lips broken before it ever truly started.

  "So—"

  "Don't start," Salem warned, pointing at James who raised his hands in defense, "Goodnight, Sirius. Potter."

  The girl gathered her things, letting a single hand linger on Sirius' shoulders as she departed to let the friends speak. And, Salem was already feeling the ramifications of the action, the weight of her heart growing, but it didn't help when she saw Dottie's judgemental eyes in the staircase.

  Her heart suddenly felt cold, previously unaware of the girl's position. Perhaps if Salem had known, she wouldn't have kissed Sirius She wouldn't have dug herself deeper, believing (even if it were just for a second) that she was digging herself out.

  "You can't do that."

  "What?" Salem asked tiredly, trudging up the steps, "What can't I do?"

  "Hey, knock it off," Dottie said seriously, making Salem turn in shock, "They aren't chess pieces for you to play with, Sal, they're people."

  Salem had a brief, bitter thought. She wondered if Dottie only got this strike of confidence from being around Peter too much. Or the other Gryffindor girls. The redhead didn't like the intrusive meanderings that often overcame her— the short, raging waves of anger or hatred, but they came often.

  And they were harsh.

  Because it took Salem to reel herself back in— to breath and tell herself that Dottie was just as lion-hearted as the rest of the house. That Salem herself, in reality, was the only sheep in lion's clothing. Not Dottie Fitzgerald, who'd simply always chosen peace over war.

  "I'm aware."

  "Then why are you toying with them?" The girl laughed dryly, "Tell James, stop leading him on, or don't kiss his best friend if you have feelings for him."

  "You don't understand—"

  "No, I don't," Dottie frowned, "I don't understand anything you do anymore."

  Salem bit the inside of her cheek as Dottie shook her head, before walking back down the steps and disappearing into the common room. The redhead kept her composure, she made it to her dorm and sorted her things out, changed into pajamas— she was fine.

  Until it was time for her to play James back.

  The revelation came in waves. When she read James' note— mindless rambling about how he'd love to take her on a date next Valentine's Day— Salem felt as though the guilt was water-boarding her. And when she tried to form a response, she began drowning.

  But the thing that pulled Salem to the bottom of this reality, the stone tied to her ankle forcing her to inhale salty seawater, was the chessboard. Because the only available moves for either she or James, were ones that would end the game.

  She could stretch it out for one more move. Or she could end it. She could move into checkmate and this would be it— James couldn't escape it.

  But Salem had never lost a game of chess before, and she'd use this excuse ten times over to avoid the truth in why she was ending this game.

  He'd be the only one to know.

  And then, for safe measure, Salem turned the parchment over and with a shaky hand, wrote her last note to James Potter.  

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
sal makes bad choices,
I had to keep the trend up.
she's by far the most
flawed character i've ever
written but that's why i love
her so much?? idk
i know you guys are talking
about how you're going to miss
Checkmate when it's over,
BUT I MIGHT LITERALLY CRY