We are locked in an epic battle. He raises one thick blonde eyebrow, a movement that is known to fill intrepid knights with fear. His eyes are scanning the black and white squares of the board and I can almost see his brain whirring. We've been having this chess match for over a week. It seems unlikely it will ever end.

"How the heck do you make a chess match last so long?" my twin sister asks as we eat bacon sandwiches for lunch.

"It's simple, Lucy," I explain. "We're both unwilling to lose so we don't move our pieces."

"That's not very good tactics," Lucy says, in her poor, simple-minded, non-chess expert-ness.

"Ah, sister dear, whenever will you learn?" I ask, shaking my head and smiling at the fool that is my sister. "To drag it out exhausts your opponent and makes it more likely that they will make stupid mistakes and allow you to step into the breach and win."

"I still don't understand how you can spend all your time playing that game," she says. "It seems so boring."

"At least I'm bettering my mind and not spending all my time snogging Lorcan Scamander in the Room of Requirement," I retort, with a grin to show her I mean it light-heartedly.

"No, you don't, and if you even try it I will hex you into oblivion," Lucy says, also grinning to show she means it light-heartedly. "But I still don't get it. I mean, snogging is snogging and chess is, well, chess! You tell me which one is more entertaining." I pick up my hat and pack my bag, getting up to leave.

"Chess," I answer and begin to walk towards the door. When I look back ten seconds later Lucy is on Lorcan's knees snogging for England. I shake my head at my twin and begin to walk up to the common room, back to my ferocious battle with Lysander.

Lucy doesn't understand chess. She doesn't understand the feeling of immense power that comes from looking at those little stone pieces and knowing that they are all under your control. It's a war and you are the general. Those black and white squares are your battlefield. She doesn't understand the complex strategies and battles that happen on and around that chequered square. Alliances are made, carefully constructed and twisted bargains are made, backs are stabbed, friendships are made and broken and even the best laid plan can crash and burn on the chess board.

I don't understand snogging. Lucy seems to think it's the most amazing thing in the world. She says we need snogging to make children. I always tell her we need sex to make children, not snogging. She says you need snogging first to work up to sex. It's at this point that I walk away and leave her to snog Lorcon. I've never snogged anyone. Personally, I think it sounds disgusting. I mean, to put your lips against someone else's must be so unhygienic. I don't care how many times Lucy tells me the exchange of bacteria that occurs when you French kiss is beneficial to your immune system, it's disgusting. I never have kissed anybody and I never want to.

But just because I never want to snog one doesn't mean I don't find members of the opposite sex attractive. Just because I'm around by annoying boy cousins all the time doesn't mean I don't know that not all guys are like that…just most of them. But Lysander is a nice, normal human being and amazingly good-looking. If I didn't keep my eyes on the board, I'd be far too easily distracted during our chess games.

But he's so gorgeous. Those big aquamarine eyes with their fringe of unfairly long blonde lashes that are wasted on a boy. His eyes sparkle when he's being funny, when he's sad, when he's excited and pretty much all the time. Those eyes are like those deep pools you get way out in the ocean and I just can't wait to drown in them. And his hair is gorgeous. Just the way it flops onto his face so he's always shaking those pale blonde tendrils out of his eyes. It makes me sigh. And his nose and his lips and his chin and his cute little ears. Everything about him is absolutely perfect. If I was going to break my vow of no kissing, he'd be the one I'd break it with.

"Checkmate," Lysander says, pulling me out of my dreamy stupor. I look down at the board. I am trapped! How? I only became distracted for a few seconds…a minute…five minutes…damn it; he bewitched me with his looks while he beat me! I have lost!

"I didn't mean to," I start to say. "I was…I mean you were…I wanna rematch!"

"Sure, but one thing first," Lysander says. I notice how close he was. I can smell his breath, which luckily is still fresh from his last breath mint. His eyes are like big circles obscuring my vision. His lips are a hair's breadth away from my face. Instinct kicks in, the age old knowing of when you're about to get kissed. Though I will them not to, my lips pucker up. Lysander takes this as a signal he is allowed to proceed and closes the distance between us in a heartbeat. His lips touch mine and my eyelids seem break through my will and close.

It's weird, kissing. All these years I swore I would never do it and if I did never enjoy it and in the space of a second I suddenly understand why Lucy is never far away from Lorcan's lips. It's enjoyable. I don't know if Lysander has kissed a girl before, but I think he has. He's far too expert to be a newbie. But I've never kissed before and I don't know what to do with my lips or my hands or any other part of my body. Fortunately for me, instinct takes over. My hands go straight to his waist and stay there. I start moving my lips and my body with his. It feels strange but nice at the same time. Lysander responds.

He increases the passion of the kiss and begins to make his hands wander. I'm not sure if this is good on the first kiss, but I decide to just go with it. After all, what bad can come of kissing Lysander? It feels so right. Maybe we're meant to be together. Maybe kissing isn't so bad. Maybe…I really need to come up for air before I faint! I push against Lysander's chest, but it's like pushing against a rock. He won't budge, even when I pummel on his chest. Is he so stupid he takes this as an affectionate touch thing instead of a plea to move? Oh Merlin, I can't breathe. The world is spinning, it's turning black. Is this death? I suppose kissing Lysander is the best possible way to go. Oh Merlin, I'm falling. Goodbye, cruel world.

"What happened?" I ask when I wake up. "Am I dead?"

"Don't be silly, dearie," says Madam Finch-Fletchley in her no-nonsense voice. "You're in the hospital wing because you fainted. You were kissing your boyfriend too long. Very irresponsible of both of you."

"Um, sorry," I whisper, feeling a blush of humiliation creeping up my neck.

"Oh, it's quite alright, dearie," she replies. "It's nice that you love him so much you would kiss him until you fainted. I gave you some potion and you were only out for a few hours. Your friends are worried sick. I'll go and get them."

"Well, sis, didn't know you had it in you," Lucy says, sitting down on my bed. "Snogging until you faint, wow! I thought you hated snogging."

"Gloat all you want, Lucy, but I don't see you kissing until you faint," I say, feeling an urge to make mischief.

"We'll see about that!" she exclaimed and, pulling Lorcan towards her by his tie, nearly strangling him in the process, she begins to kiss him, and I know she won't stop until she faints.

In the moment of silence I look at Lysander. He looks back at me. He comes over and sits down next to me, laying a hand over mine.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I know you wanted me to stop, and I wanted to stop before you got hurt, but it was like something else was controlling my brain and I couldn't stop, even when you were punching me, and-" I cut off his senseless babble by leaning over and pressing my lips to his. It's not bad. In fact, it's great. I can't believe I have kissed a boy, I have enjoyed kissing a boy and now I have initiated a kiss with a boy. Lysander puts his arms around me and pulls back. I smile at him and take in a deep breath before kissing him again.

When I next pull back, Lysander keeps his head near, whispering sweet nothings in my ear and kissing my neck. Over his shoulder, I see Madam Finch-Fletchley standing by her office door. For a second I freeze, not quite sure what to do. She winks at me and retreats backwards into her office. She's giving us our blessing.

"Checkmate, Molly," Lysander whispers as he finds my lips again. "Checkmate."