The Fandom Games – District 7, Harry Potter
Ginny pretended it was just another day. She fed the children, cleaned the kitchen, got dressed and checked the owl post. Harry couldn't pretend. In his heart he worried for those around him. He worried Albus, James and Lily would live their life as he lived his: orphans. At least their aunt and uncle would be better than his own. Lily came into the bedroom and hugged her father, she had a talent for knowing when he was upset.
"Mum's waiting. She said hurry up."
This was the problem: while Ginny pretended everything was fine, she wouldn't talk to Harry. He knew that she was scared, but she didn't want him to see her scared. Though he could see it when she held the children, hear it when she spoke to Molly on the weekly visits to The Burrow, and feel it in her shaky sobs at night when she thought he was asleep.
When Voldemort was defeated, Harry though – they all thought – that the worst part of their lives was over.
They were so wrong.
Ginny sat at the kitchen table, staring at the gold band that wrapped around her finger. Hermione, as a wedding present, had enchanted the rings to have writing that glowed whenever the couple were apart reading 'Harry' and 'Ginny' on the other's ring. Ginny wanted nothing more to be able to talk to Harry, but her pride overtook her love in this case, leaving her mute in her husband's presence unless utterly necessary. Sighing, Ginny stood up and ran her hands through her ginger hair. What could she do? Someone she loved could be reaped. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, George, Luna... How could she cope if she lost one of these people? Or two, a voice at the back of her mind reminded her. Arthur had died three years earlier, and she knew her mother wasn't in the best of health. She didn't want to lose anyone else.
But you will, the voice hissed. It was a familiar hiss, one that haunted her nightmares along with the face that came with it. Neither had been heard or seen since she fought alongside all those that she cared for most to protect her home away from home. This voice that echoed across the grounds of Hogwarts, threatening Harry with more deaths if he didn't hand himself over, which he did.
The image of his limp body came to mind.
Ginny shot up, and swiftly pushed through the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom, were Harry was sat with his face in his hands. At the sound of footsteps entering the room, Harry looked up, his green eyes staring into the wet, light brown eyes of his wife.
"What are we going to do?" Ginny asked, breathing heavily. Her lips were trembling around every word; she wasn't scared of showing her feelings anymore.
Harry stood up and held on to Ginny, feeling her warm body against his as she began to sob. "Everything we can do," he murmured into her soft hair.
Ginny looked up and pressed her lips against Harry's. "I love you, Harry Potter."
Ron had arranged to take the four of them down to King's Cross station in the Ford Anglia. Hermione had everything packed for days in the small beaded bag that appeared to be seemingly bottomless. Ron had just followed her around, making her laugh, and stopping her from worrying about him or the children. As much as he could, he tried not to think that, saying goodbye to the children that morning, he may not be able to spend much longer with his wife or with his children. They'd travelled by floo powder to go to Bill and Fleur's for... No one knew. It could only be until the Reaping ended, or it could be for good.
Hermione worried, laughing couldn't stop that. She worried about Ron, about Harry, about Ginny, Luna, Neville, even Draco Malfoy. She worried for Rose and Hugo, for her nieces and nephews. The only person she didn't have time to worry for was herself. Not only that, but she didn't see the need in worrying for herself. She had a plan, she thought it all out. She accepted that if she was chosen, there was only a slim chance of her surviving. She wouldn't allow Ron to die, though, and would volunteer if he was chosen. The same for Ginny. Though Harry was one of those she loved the most, Hermione knew he could handle himself, especially if he had his wand. She refused to kill, though, unless 100% necessary.
But she hoped she would be long dead before that point.
Ron approached the front door and knocked, sharply wrapping out a small tune. He was in his muggle attire, picked out carefully by Hermione. The door opened, and Albus poked his head around, beaming. Ron grinned.
"Al! How's it going, mate?" he tussled his hair. Still to this day, the resemblance between Albus and Harry was so striking he half expected to see a small scar on his forehead.
"Alright, Lily and James have already left. I'm the last to go, but I wanted to see you and Hermione first," the young boy stared up at his uncle, and his smile vanished. "I wanted to say goodbye, just in case."
Ron's stomach flipped, but he hid his fear with a laugh. "Bloody hell; don't wish me away just yet!" He felt Hermione slip her hand in his.
"Albus! You've grown! How's Dumbledore?" Hermione walked into the house, still holding on to her husband.
"Shitting everywhere," Ginny came around the corner, powder bowl in hand. Ron burst into laughter, the sound a contrast to the serious silence that had previously occupied the Potter house. Ron hugged his little sister, kissing her roughly on the cheek. "If owls weren't so helpful, I would just stick to cats. Al, you're gonna have to go, I think Bill and Fleur are getting impatient. Say goodb-" Ginny caught herself before the word could leave her mouth. She threw her arms around her son, kissing him on the forehead. She couldn't bear never seeing him again, but she accepted it as a possibility. Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione, hearing her take in a shaky breath.
"I'll see you later, mum. Good luck, everyone," Albus paused before looking up at his aunt "bring them home?" he asked.
"I don't want any of you to volunteer in my place."
Ron swore in retaliation to Hermione's request. "No. I am not promising that. Not at all. Rose and Hugo would be lost without you."
"I don't care, Ronald. I have a plan. You don't." Hermione returned to her book, ignoring Ron's furious glance at her from across the carriage.
The Hogwarts Express had turned up at 11am on the dot, to arrive at Hogwarts at 2pm. The train was virtually empty, but they had found Neville, Luna and George without difficulty. George was silent, and still to this day Harry couldn't look at him without seeing Fred sat by his side, beaming, cracking jokes. It was a hard site to bear. Neville was nervous to say the least, but Luna was no different. Upon seeing her old friends, she commented on how she never found a Crumple-Horned Snorkack.
"Ginny, do you believe this?" Ron asked, staring at his sister's reflection next to Hermione.
"No one should volunteer for anyone."
There was silence. Hermione looked up, eyes wide.
"What?" Harry asked. He felt his hands shaking.
"Each of us is equally important to the children. I don't think any of us want to know that, if we weren't stopped from going into the Games, that someone won't have had to die. That a child that we love wouldn't be without a mother or father," she paused and cast her eyes around the carriage. "Or both."
"I don't mean to seem rude, Ginny, but have you considered the possibility that it could be you and Harry up?" Luna asked, cocking her head to the left and frowning slightly. "I hope it's not, but you never know."
"I know."
"Then don't you care about not being around for your children?" Neville continued, seemingly angry.
"Of course!" Ginny yelled, furious at the assumption. "But I don't want to be the reason that someone else isn't."
"I agree," Harry reached across to take his wife by the hand. "No volunteering."
Everyone agreed, leaving only Ron, who was sat there aghast. "I can't promise anything. If Ginny is chosen, I'm volunteering," he turned to Hermione, "but don't worry. I won't volunteer for you. I know you don't want me to."
Hermione smiled, tears in her eyes. "Ronald, you are a good man, and I love you with all of my being." With that, she kissed him on the lips.
When they gathered in the grounds, the cold air wasn't the only reason for goose bumps: hundreds of Dementors were surrounding the grounds, preventing escape. Harry shuddered, and pulled Ginny in close. The grounds were different, but familiar. Some places were new, rebuilt from the battle at Hogwarts 16 years earlier. There was a plaque dedicated to those who had not survived the battle. When they first arrived, George, Ginny and Ron went to the plaque, a small golden square with never-dying flowers framing it. Harry went there alone, remembering the friends he lost: Remus, Tonks, Fred, Collin. Nothing that he could ever do would ever help him abandon that horrible dark feeling in his chest knowing that he was to blame for their deaths. The deaths of everyone since his birth had been his fault.
The darkness felt around them was interrupted as a familiar, sickly sweet voice echoed around them.
"Sonorous!"
Dolores Umbridge, a ghost from Harry's past, was stood in front of the small handful of ex-Hogwarts-students, smiling sweetly, her toad-like face seemingly unchanged, her wand pointed at her throat, projecting her voice clearly.
"Hello, hello! How lovely it is to see you all," she drew out the word, staring directly at Harry, Ron and Hermione. "It has been such a long time since I last saw you all, and I miss being headmistress of such a fine establishment. However, time has come for a new, much more enjoyable role. So, without further ado: the boys." Without taking her eyes off Harry, Umbridge stood in front of the boys bowl. She reached in a single gloved hand and pulled out a piece of paper. Carefully unfolding it, Umbridge's smile grew. "Harry Potter!" her voice was full of excitement.
Harry felt his heart drop into his stomach. It was happening all over again. He felt Ginny freeze next to him, hardly breathing. Without thinking, Harry walked up to the stage. He stood still in his spot, ignoring the faces of those around him.
"Potter! How does it feel? Go on, tell me you're thrilled, excited you get to present your excellent defensive skills in the arena!"
"I must not tell lies," Harry replied, his voice devoid of feeling. Umbridge's lip curled.
"Now for the girls!" Umbridge repeated the process. "Hermione Weasley!"
Hermione was in place before the shock and – though he'd never admit it – relief fully registered within Harry. She smiled, despite Ron's obvious cries of anger, having to be held back by George, Neville, and Draco Malfoy, who stared Harry in the eye. There was no longer contempt between the men.
Harry Potter and Hermione Weasley, accepting of their fate, nodded at their family. There was nothing that they could do but wait. Wait for death.
The boy who lived, Harry could almost hear the gloating voice of his long dead enemy. Come to die.
