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"I've got it. I've fucking got it."
Ron breaks out into a smug grin, dropping his quill down onto a piece of parchment as he leans back in his chair. A chorus of groans echoes through Gryffindor Tower. He surveys the expectant faces of his other dormmates, all huddled around a cluster of nightstands that they’ve pushed together to form a makeshift table in the center of the room.
"I accuse Seamus of committing the crime in the Headmaster's Office with the wand."
Seamus bolts upright, stamping his foot as he slaps his own parchment with a smattering of untidy scrawl down on top of Ron’s. "No! No. Way. It was definitely Hermione in the library with the Sword of Gryffindor!”
Dean snorts. "Hermione? She’d never commit a crime in a place as sacred to her as the library.”
Ron’s eyes shift to Harry, who is already shaking his head.
"Yes she would," they state in unison. Ron chuckles to himself as he tries to imagine Hermione’s reaction to being accused of murder, or better yet, indulging the other Gryffindors in a detective game. Although she’d have a difficult time letting the rules fall to the background, she’s a secret sleuth deep down. He’s convinced.
From the moment they stepped foot onto the Hogwarts Express earlier that day, Dean insisted they all play a Muggle game that he spent hours crafting a magical spin on in his bedroom over the summer. It was quickly decided to be the first order of business once they arrived at the dorms. As Ron’s gaze falls on the board in front of him—a clever map showcasing various locations around the castle and littered with cardboard cut-out people bewitched to float around the board—he now understands the hype. The use of actual Gryffindors for the suspect names only adds to its brilliance.
“What do you have, Potter?” Ron nudges his best friend.
Harry sighs, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “Same location and weapon as you, but I had Ginny written down. Figured she’d be suspect number one, honestly.” A blush creeps up on his cheeks, but he bows his head before Ron can study it further.
Curious.
“Well?” Seamus huffs, his knee bouncing against the wooden table. “And the winner is?”
“So eager to lose, are ya?” Ron taunts.
“Are you afraid of some healthy competition, Weasley?”
“You wish, Finnigan.”
Neville releases the seal on the envelope—smartly brandishing the Gryffindor house crest—and pulls a piece of parchment out just far enough to read the verdict. His eyes dart back and forth between Ron and Seamus, brows raised high above the blond fringe on his forehead, before slipping the paper back into the fold.
A short pause follows. Neville remains tight-lipped until he points a finger at the winner. “Ron is correct!”
Ron whoops and hollers, reaching over to high-five Harry while ignoring the glare Seamus pins him with. He basks in the glory of his victory for a moment longer, satisfied to have solved the first mystery of sixth year.
Although chess remains his favorite way to pass the time, Ron enjoys the balance of strategy and social deduction that this game offers. He reckons it’s a much safer—and less painful—choice of activities, compared to their first night of third year and the consumption of sound-producing chocolates that followed.
"Umbridge as the victim, though.” Harry sniggers into his hand, his shoulders shaking. The entire room erupts into laughter.
Dean cocks an eyebrow, leveling the group with a smirk. “Was there any other choice?”
Ron clasps his hands behind his head, glancing up at the ceiling and taking in the view of crimson and gold. Man, it's good to be back at Hogwarts.