Hi so I haven't seen this kind of story around the way I liked it so I decided to write it with a little nudging from a friend anyway I hope you like it!

Chapter One

Slinging my book bag over my shoulder, I walk down the familiar Hogwarts hallways, Harry on the right of me, Ron on the left. I smile. This is how I like my life — studies, friends, and magic.

Reaching the Potions door, I open it, sitting at the front, my usual spot, Harry and Ron lagging behind me, talking about Quidditch. Rolling my eyes as they get in another argument about who is better, Slytherin or Ravenclaw, I unpack my supplies, setting them up precisely where they should be on the desk, taking up just the right amount of space.

Smiling, I put my bag strap over the side of my chair. Just as I look back up, Professor Snape walks in with his billowing robes and the door snapping behind him. Looking up, I see him writing something on the chalkboard. It appears to be a list of names, but they're unreadable so far.

Looking back up to Professor Snape, he begins stalking in his cold, droning voice. "As of the new inter-house unity rule, I have divided you up to be paired with a member from the opposition house with about the same skill as you, and hopefully you won't be complete blundering fools and blow something up." Finishing, he waves his wand at the chalkboard, and the names are revealed.

Harry and Pansy. Crabbe and Ron. Blaise and Lavender.

Hermione and Draco.

I groan. Not him — anybody except him.

Sighing, I pack up my stuff, knowing very well there will be no way he will be moving his own. Placing them all delicately in my bag, I slip it over my shoulder and grumpily sit down next to the ferret, leaving it on my shoulder. Looking at the potion book, I notice it to be a very hard and complex one. Standing up and getting the necessary supplies, I lay them down on the wooden desk, not talking to Malfoy.

I start boiling the water while grinding lemon grass to a fine powder, sprinkling it in while turning clockwise. I grab the bottled elf tears. Uncorking it, I move over to pour the needed two drops in, when my hand bumps into Malfoy's, who was dropping the needed one unicorn hair. Now three of those and my supposed two drops now being the whole bottle.

When they hit the potion, it goes blue before exploding, covering my face from the smoke. I start coughing 'til the smoke is gone.

Looking up, I see I am no longer in the Potions classroom. Maybe not even in Hogwarts grounds at all.

This place doesn't look familiar at all. It looks sad and dirty. Looking around, I see the ferret. Apparently, wherever I am, I'm stuck with him. Standing up, I notice I still have my bag on my shoulder. Immediately looking through it, I see my small purple beaded bag sitting in there, along with a few books, vials, and my wand. I started carrying around the small bag out of habit when Ron, Harry, and I were on the run. The war is over, but I always have it with me. I does contain three month's worth of food, spare clothes, and lots of other things.

Looking up, I see Ferret looking around in complete confusion. Walking closer to him, I tap his shoulder lightly. Instead of coiling away and shouting at me for touching him, he just looks at me, confused.

Talking quietly, I say, "Malfoy, wherever we are, we should probably stick together. We never know what might be here, and, uh, we should probably keep our wands hidden in case we're in Muggle land."

He nods his head, acknowledging that he understands. Walking forward, I see we are in a small village. Looking ahead, I see a small child around the age of twelve walking with her mother at a quick pace. Speeding up to catch them, I hear a steady set of footsteps behind me, indicating that Malfoy is following me.

Catching up to them, I say, "Excuse me," making the mother and girl turn around to look at me. They look at me with curious expressions. What I'm wearing is nothing like the very simple clothes they are wearing.

Giving a small smile as to not scare them, I say, "Do you know where we are?"

The little girl looks at me curiously. "Why, District Twelve, of course."

"Ah, yes, of course. Silly me," I say. "And could you tell me what year it is?"

She squints, her eyes at me as if studying me. Shaking her head, she says, "Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. What's your name?"

"Hermione." I smile. "And thank you."

She smiles before saying, "Prim . . . Primrose. Nice meeting you, Hermione."

I smile at her before sitting down on the floor, motioning for Malfoy to do the same. Sitting beside me, he stares ahead. He hasn't said a word since we've gotten here. I think he's in shock.

Snapping open my small beaded bag, I search around 'til I pull out a blank book. Touching the spine, I say, "District Twelve." The title on the front now saying "District 12," I open it, reading how it is the poorest of the twelve districts, and much more. Changing the book to "Hunger Games," I read about the horrors of that, about the children killing one another to survive. It sounds awful.

Putting the book back into the small bag and that bag into my satchel, I hear the soft words, "We're never going to get back, are we?"

Snapping my head around, I look at Malfoy. He has a dazed expression on his face.

He continues, "I tried Apparating. It doesn't work, and we're in a land where children kill one another for sport."

Carefully, I lightly grab his hand, tugging him into a small, empty, one-room house of sorts. Transfiguring a small plank into a bed, I set him on it. He stays there, staring.

"Hermione," he says.

I look at him. I have never heard him say my name. It sounds foreign, but . . . right.

Turning his head, he looks at me and says, "We can be friends, right?"

My eyes widen in shock. He wants to be friends?! "Yeah," I croak out. "Yeah, we probably should stick together if we're stuck here forever." I mutter out the last bit barely in a whisper.

He nods, color starting to come back to his face. He scoots over on the bed, motioning for me to lay down by him. Getting up, my legs feel like jello. Lying beside him, I fell asleep, thinking about children killing one another in an arena.

Waking up, I sit up, groggily rubbing my eyes. The blanket slips off onto my legs. What blanket? Where has a blanket come from? Looking around, I notice a small fire blazing in the fireplace. I see the silhouette of Malfoy sitting by the fire. He seems to be in deep thought.

Walking over, I sit down next to him, not saying a word. It is a peaceful silence, not awkward like I expected, just calm and peaceful. Slowly, I lean over and lay my head on his shoulder. He doesn't say anything. He just starts rubbing soothing circles into my back. A small smile comes on my face.

Breaking the silence, I say, "I looked at the date, and it's today." I pause. "It's horrible, just absolutely horrible," I continue. "The Hunger Games reaping is today."

He nods his head.

"I think we should probably change into, you know, more common clothes like the ones the little girl was wearing or similar." Standing up, I grab my satchel. Taking out my purple bag, I snap it open, pulling out some jeans for the both of us, along with a grey hoodie for him and a black one for me. It should work for now. A little different from what they have, but not too far off.

Pulling out, last but not least, some black sneakers and socks for the both of us, tossing his stuff at him, I go in the corner and quickly change. Shimming into my jeans and getting my head unstuck from the hood, I finish.

"Can I turn around?" I ask.

"Yeah," I hear.

Turning around, I see Draco in the clothes. They look like they fit him well. I smile at him, trying to be friendly. Looking around, I see people milling about, getting ready for the reaping if I have to guess.

Setting a can of beans over the fire, I let that heat up. I can't believe where I am, what is about to happen. I am about to watch innocent children get reaped into a game where they killed one another, and only one of the poor twenty-four children would make it out of the awful place alive. Most of them are small children, not even having lived half their lives. I can't even imagine what happens in this future to make something like this happen.

Sighing, I take off the hot beans, putting some into bowls, handing one to Draco. We sit, eating it, making small talk for a while. When we finish, I put the cleaned bowls back in my small bag, leaving almost all of my items, such as books, potions, vials, and all my food and clothes. Taking just my wand with me, I shrink it to fit in my small hidden pocket in my jeans. Placing my now itty-bitty bag and wand in my hidden pocket, I walk out, with Draco looking around.

It's lighter and cleaner a bit. There are people in white suits everywhere — Peacekeepers, I think they call them. Looking around, I see a roped-off area with children inside. Going around, I see a line and the children getting their finger pricked. Motioning to the line, we walk into it. After all, we're seventeen. Technically, we could be in the Games, not that we will be, seeing as we've been here for less than twenty-four hours, and there is no way logically possible our names could be on any of those slips of paper.

Walking up, I get my finger pricked and watch as the screen shows "Hermione Granger." I shake my head. They have some pretty neat technology around here. If only it was a better place. I would have loved to explore it.

Walking in the pen-like area, I look around and see we are divided by age, I think, and gender. Boys are on the other side of me. Looking around, I see someone on the stage wearing the most ridiculous outfit ever. And her hair — gah, don't get me started on her hair.

She starts speaking in a high-pitched voice. "Welcome to the seventy-four Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor. Ladies first!" She pulls out a slip of paper from the thousands in the glass bowl. It almost looks like it could have an expanding charm on it, but I highly doubt that.

Unfolding the slip, she calls out, "Primrose Everdeen!"

Time seems to freeze. The little girl — the one I have met yesterday, barely twelve years old — one slip in there among thousands of others. And she got picked.

Looking, I see the white Peacekeepers dragging her away. She is looking at a girl about my age near to me. It must be her sister.

Deciding in that split second I am not okay with this, that this little girl will live, my mouth opens and out comes, "I volunteer as tribute!"

Thanks for reading!

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Love ForgottenTypewriter

Word count:1980