A profound, weighted silence hung in the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, broken only by the crackle of the unenthusiastic Wizard Chess pieces waiting for their next battle.
Albert had not expected Professor Brod to state the truth about Ancient Runes so clinically—that a potential source of ultimate magical power had been rendered obsolete simply by modern wizarding efficiency.
Albert nodded, a subtle gesture that indicated he had absorbed and accepted the disappointing reality of the magical world's priorities.
"I never expected Professor Brod to give you such… divine praise," Katrina McDougal observed, her voice low and tight with a complicated mix of grudging respect and raw frustration.
Katrina's emotional reaction was complex and deeply rooted. At home, she lived constantly under the expansive, effortless shadow of her older sister, Izabel, a figure universally hailed as an absolute magical prodigy.
Katrina was genuinely talented—hardworking, diligent, and intellectually sharp—easily among the top students of her year, surpassing even respected peers like Cedric Diggory. She had come to Hogwarts hoping to finally step out of Izabel's orbit, to establish her own magical identity.
Then, Albert Anderson appeared.
He wasn't merely talented; he was a phenomenon that eclipsed everyone. His brilliance wasn't confined to one area like Charms or Transfiguration; it was comprehensive. When Albert was invited to the Transformation Club in his first year, Katrina had consoled herself, assuming her own invitation would surely follow next year.
When he displayed an extraordinary, almost casual talent for Quidditch flying—a field she had no aptitude for—she doubled down on her academic goals, believing that sheer, unrelenting effort would allow her to surpass him in pure scholastic magic.
The latest paper in Transfiguration Today had delivered a severe psychological blow, confirming his genius in her chosen field. But the rune incident minutes ago—a self-taught translation of fragmented, high-level Ancient Runes that baffled Professor Brod himself—was the true breaking point.
This was a third-year course, mastered during a single holiday break. It felt less like a competition and more like chasing an optical illusion.
Could it be that I really chose the wrong impossible mountain to climb? The thought, heavy and painful, surged through Katrina's mind. Yet, her Ravenclaw pride and innate competitiveness refused to yield. She hadn't lost yet. Not completely.
She needed to find a battlefield where her discipline, study, and specific strengths could deliver a clean, undeniable victory.
"Professor Brod mentioned you are highly skilled at Wizard Chess," Katrina stated abruptly, looking directly at Albert, her eyes burning with fierce determination.
Albert paused, genuinely surprised by the sudden, intense shift in her focus. "Wizard Chess?" He pointed a questioning finger at himself, then at her. "You and me?"
"Yes, you and me," she confirmed, her jaw set. "We will decide the question of relative mastery in this area! Let's play chess." Katrina needed to reclaim some confidence, and the chessboard—one of the few domains where her focused, analytical mind could occasionally best her sister Izabel—felt like her last, safest ground.
As Albert absorbed the challenge, a familiar, faint chime sounded in the back of his mind, and a new entry flashed onto his Quest Panel.
Quest: Complete Overwhelming
Description: Someone sees you as a rival and attempts to challenge and defeat you. Best the challenger in a contest of Wizard Chess and demonstrate, conclusively, that she will never be your opponent. The defeat must be decisive and final.
Rewards: 200 Experience Points, Katrina McDougal's Favorability +1, Izabel McDougal's Favorability +5.
Albert frowned slightly at the strange reward structure. Only 200 XP? That was less than the experience gained from brewing a simple, advanced potion.
And the favorability points were bizarrely weighted: why would Izabel, who hadn't issued the challenge, gain five times the favorability of the vanquished challenger, Katrina?
Perhaps Izabel is the real intended audience of the 'crushing,' Albert mused. The quest may be about proving competence to the existing genius, not about humbling the earnest challenger.
Regardless of the meager XP, Albert never turned down a sure-thing quest. The title, however—"Complete Overwhelming"—made him feel genuinely sorry for the fiery-haired Ravenclaw girl standing before him. She was walking into a challenge with someone who not only possessed high skill but also an unfair, system-driven motivation for her failure. She had chosen the worst possible opponent.
"Playing Wizard Chess?" Albert feigned a moment of theatrical thought. "In the Great Hall? With an audience, perhaps?"
"Yes," Katrina insisted, oblivious to his calculated acceptance. "We'll play in the Great Hall this evening—a series of three decisive games."
"Very well, if you insist. I don't mind," Albert conceded gracefully.
"By the way, is that notebook you're going to give to Professor Brod?" Albert suddenly inquired, noticing a leather-bound journal clutched tightly in Katrina's hand.
"Ah, I almost forgot!" Katrina exclaimed, snapping back to her original purpose for visiting the office. "These are Professor Babbling's research notes, which she asked me to deliver to Professor Brod."
She quickly approached the desk, handed over the journal, and then turned back toward Albert, her mind already consumed by the impending chess match.
Albert watched Katrina stride out, her back stiff with nervous anticipation, then shook his head. He couldn't quite fathom her stubborn insistence, especially after she had gone through the trouble of borrowing the massive, heavy Wizard Chess set from Professor Brod's own collection.
The informal contest began that evening in the Great Hall. The central table, usually reserved for staff, was occupied by the enormous, active Wizard Chess set.
The spectacle drew a respectable crowd, mostly composed of curious Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, eager to see the famed Albert Anderson clash with the highly-regarded Katrina McDougal. Izabel stood silently near the periphery, watching her sister with an unreadable expression.
Game One: The Tactical Misstep
The first game was a stunning, immediate loss for Albert.
He started White, employing a standard opening, but his mind, still processing the implications of the ancient runes and the geometry of the Ironclad Amulet, was momentarily distracted. He made a minor, uncharacteristic positional error on the tenth move. Katrina, whose focus was absolute and whose memory for complex sequences was immense, instantly capitalized. Her pieces—a relentless formation of Knights and Rooks—moved with brutal, surgical precision.
Albert was forced into a series of desperate trades, but the opening was too wide. He was thoroughly and efficiently defeated by Katrina's Queen and an aggressive Bishop in less than fifteen minutes. The crowd gasped; the challenger had won the first round decisively.
Albert accepted the loss with an easy shrug. He genuinely didn't mind the defeat itself; losing was part of the learning process. He also knew that the quest wouldn't fail just because of one game; it merely awaited the required condition—the "Complete Overwhelming"—to be met.
Game Two: The Psychological Overload
Albert selected Black this time. He opened defensively, establishing a deep, layered structure, but his strategy was not merely defensive. It was designed to maximize Katrina's cognitive load.
Albert started playing fast chess. He moved his pieces rapidly, forcing her to constantly re-evaluate her position under artificial time pressure. Katrina, excellent when given time to analyze and plot three moves ahead, struggled under the constant need for instantaneous recalculation.
Albert allowed small positional advantages to slip, baiting her into aggressive lines that looked good on paper but required her to manage multiple attack vectors simultaneously. The pressure began to show. Her usually flawless defensive lines frayed; her King was left slightly exposed.
Albert's Rooks executed a complex, devastating double attack that shattered her center. Katrina spent a full minute frantically trying to calculate a defense, but the momentum was irreversible. Albert forced a sequence that ended in a King and Rook checkmate. He didn't just win; he executed a time-pressure collapse, demonstrating a level of tactical endurance and strategic manipulation that signaled intellectual dominance.
The match ended after forty-five minutes. Albert had won, narrowly, but the psychological effect was anything but narrow. Katrina looked exhausted, her initial fire banked by the grueling complexity of the defense she had been forced to maintain.
Game Three: The Crushing Draw
Katrina chose White for the final, deciding game, her resolve hardening. She deployed her most reliable, aggressive opening, determined to prevent the chaos of the last round.
Albert, however, had decided that the time for the "Complete Overwhelming" was now. He opened with a hyper-defensive, almost hermetic structure—the infamous "Twin Fortress" defense, where every single piece was dedicated solely to neutralizing its mirror image. He aimed for a perfect positional draw, not a win.
He made calculated exchanges quickly, sacrificing minor positional pieces to neutralize Katrina's Rooks and Knights, the most aggressive elements of her attack. He didn't attempt to exploit any weaknesses; he simply denied her any avenues of offense. The game quickly turned into a dull, repetitive sequence of mutual defenses and neutralized threats.
Within twenty minutes, the board was almost bare. All the major pieces had been exchanged. The two Kings sat alone, protected by a handful of pawns and a single Bishop each, with no possible path for either side to deliver a checkmate. Albert had executed the draw by absolute strategic neutralization.
Katrina sat staring at the stalemate, her face pale. She realized that Albert hadn't been trying to win this game; he had been proving that he could effortlessly nullify her entire repertoire without breaking a sweat. His ability to force a draw against her most disciplined effort was the true, complete defeat.
The quest panel chimed, registering success: Quest: Complete Overwhelming — COMPLETE.
Katrina, though visibly dissatisfied with the draw, gathered her pieces. "That was… well, that was an acceptable draw," she muttered, standing up. "But I will find time to continue playing chess with you another day, Albert Anderson." She needed to believe she could beat him eventually, clinging to the sliver of hope the draw provided.
Albert simply gave her a small, respectful smile. He knew there would be no fourth game where he risked the quest failure, and he knew that the psychological "crushing" was already complete.
"What happened to your sister?" Albert asked Izabel, who had been observing the entire contest with detached, focused intensity.
"She's intensely competitive, and frankly, she's under immense pressure," Izabel said calmly, her eyes distant. "She probably realized she couldn't possibly catch up to you in core magical skill, so she sought to beat you in a specialization she already mastered."
"I think perhaps you are the one who placed too much pressure on her, Izabel," Albert muttered gently. "It must be an absolutely punishing burden to be the younger sibling of a universally recognized genius."
At this point, Albert abruptly fell silent, a sudden, unexpected wave of distant empathy washing over him. He wasn't thinking of Katrina and Izabel anymore; he was thinking of his own sister, Nia. He hadn't put that kind of pressure on her, but the shadow of his growing fame was unavoidable, a separate, more complex kind of burden.