I don't own Harry Potter or The Hunger Games

Hermione's Pov

The evenings were getting longer. It had felt like a long winter, but I was finally starting to notice the sun pouring into the common room later and later in the evenings, so The evenings were getting longer. It had felt like a long winter, but me I was finally starting to notice the sun pouring into the common room later and later in the evenings, so much so on this particular April evening that nobody had even bothered to put the lights on.

It had been a boring Saturday, as Saturdays went. Hours had been slipping by anything being accomplished, and I had spent most of the day moping around the Gryffindor common room, knowing that I couldn't really commit to doing anything while she was still waiting on Professor Dumbledore.

I was thinking of trying to find Harry or Ron I just couldn't. They went to see Professor Dumbledore but never came back. Harry could really well be looking to see if Draco Malfoy is a Death Thorey. Ron I couldn't know where Ron could be. He could be anywhere.

However, rather than the Heads of House conducting these mentoring sessions, today all the sixth-years had to go and see Professor Dumbledore.

Thinking of Draco Malfoy and Harry's Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater thorey.

Great, I thought bitterly. Another opportunity wasted.

"Hermione!"

"Did you even hear a word of what I just said?" Katie reprimanded him, hands on her hips.

"Er, I - no, I'm sorry, I completely zoned out," I apologised hurriedly.

"I could tell," Katie muttered as I got to my feet. "Anyway, Professor McGonagall told me to let you know Professor Dumbledore's ready to see you now."

"Right, thanks," I said, putting his copy of Advanced Potion-Making into his bag, and slinging it over his shoulder. "I'd better not keep him waiting," he added as he walked to the door, excusing himself from the conversation.

"Of course," Katie replied as l walked away from her.

"Come in."

It had only taken Me five minutes to reach Professor Dumbledore's office; I knew the route through the castle well. There had been a time when I had been fascinated by all the mysterious objects and devices occupying the shelves and cupboards around the Headmaster's office, and been intrigued by the paintings of all the previous Hogwarts Headmasters that lined the walls, but that time was long past, and I had barely even glanced around the room as he entered.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," I said with a smile, introducing himself.

"Ah, Mrs Granger! I was beginning to think that we would be running out of time tonight. I'm afraid we are most terribly behind schedule. I hope I have not robbed you of an evening."

"Oh, not at all, professor," I lied, as I had a feeling that none of this was Professor Dumbledore's fault.

"Very well," Dumbledore replied, and I started to notice that Dumbledore kept glancing around at the portraits on the walls; oddly, it seemed that all of them were present, for once. "Please, Hermione, take a seat."

I sat down opposite Dumbledore at the desk in the centre of the room, which was covered in a great many papers and objects. No doubt Dumbledore had been busy all day.

"Many of the students I have seen today are not nearly as well known to me as you are, Hermione, and so we shall keep this brief," Professor Dumbledore began, and I relaxed a little. Part of him had been worried he would be lectured for falling behind somewhere, or for getting into too much trouble with one of his teachers. He'd still never really mastered the art of sticking to the rules.

Professor Dumbledore pulled a sheet of paper out of the stack beside him and set it down on the between himself and Harry. On it, Harry could read his own marks for his classes this year.

"Let me see, Mrs Granger... Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Potions and Transfiguration... There is nothing here that gives me any cause for concern - indeed, you seem to be excelling this year! Keep working as you do, and I'll expect to see at least two or three Outstanding grades when you take your N.E.W.T. examinations next year," Dumbledore said with a smile.

"Thank-you, professor," I said, positively cheered up now, despite wasting the day, because of how much faith Professor Dumbledore had in me.

"I would ask for you to try and keep yourself disciplined, but I fear that if you have learnt little in almost six years, there is little point in me continuing to lecture you about your misdemeanours now."

I wasn't sure what to say to that, and so was relieved when Professor Dumbledore stood up and said, "I'm sure that just about covers everything. I see little that I need to talk to you about your schoolwork, and we have so much time to discuss other matters that you are free to leave, if you please."

"Of course, professor," I replied. "I've got a busy few days ahead.

Never mind looking into Harry's Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater Theory

"Oh, Hermione , I almost forgot!" Professor Dumbledore called after him, as My hand reached the door handle. The Professor had stood up and had pulled a book out from a compartment in his desk.

"What is it, professor?" I asked.

"You may recall that what Mr Potter told you about when the To of us perused the memories of Professor Slughorn last week, Tom Riddle said that he had come across Horcruxes from reading about them in our school library." Dumbledore gave Harry a small, sad smile. "Of course, I had all books on Horcruxes removed from the library the moment I became Headmaster, but I didn't get rid of them." Dumbledore put the small book down on the desk. "This is the book that Tom Riddle read to first come across Horcruxes, all those years ago. I believe it might be useful for you to read through it, in case you feel you need any more explanation of what we are up against."

"Of course, I'll take it," I said, walking back into the room towards the desk, and Dumbledore stepped aside to let Harry get to the desk, glancing up once again at the portraits around the room.

I knew that there was something wrong the moment that his hand first touched the battered leather covering of the book, and felt the tell-tale tug behind his navel. Instantly memories of mazes and graveyards pushed to the front of his mind, but he quelled them for long enough to hear Dumbledore mutter quietly.

"I'm sorry."

I opened my mouth to reply, but I was already gone.

I came to on my back with a thud, the book flying from my hands, its job done. From the sound it made as it landed beside him, he was in a large enclosed space; a cave, perhaps.

Where am I?

Opening his eyes and sitting up, I took a look around. He was in a large, empty room, the size of a sports hall, although the painted concrete floor, white walls and the harsh artificial light coming from the ceiling suggested that the room normally had a different purpose. Around me, two dozen or so Hogwarts students sat around him in groups, talking in hushed whispers. It took me a moment to realise that they were all in my year.

"Mione!"

I turned around to find Ron beaming down at him, and relief flooded through him before panic took over as Harry almost bowled her over, trapping herin a fierce hug.

"Easy, Harry!" I said with a weak laugh as she drew away from him. Looking around, I noticed Neville Longbottom standing beside Ron, too. "What's going on here?"

"No idea, mate," Ron shrugged. "I've only been here - well, I don't really know how long it's been - but I wasn't the first. When I went to see Dumbledore this afternoon, he said he had something for me to help me practice for the Ravenclaw game. He gave me this little box, you see, but when I touched it, it was a portkey! Took me straight here, wherever here is," Ron said, looking around with disdain.

"So he's tricked all of us?"

"It certainly looks that way," Ron said bitterly.

"I didn't arrive long after Neville," Harry added. "And there really weren't many of us here then. Every ten minutes or so, somebody else has turned up. I've been wondering how long it was going to be before you got here."

"Yeah, and you were getting bloody nervous about what was taking him so long," Ron quipped, and I glared at him.

"So where actually are we?" I asked, only to be greeted with silence from his fellow Gryffindors. "Maybe a better question would be to ask why we're still in here, and not working out where we are?"

"There doesn't seem to be a way out," Harry replied. "There are no doors, no obvious routes out. I've cast a few spells to see what other magic is at work here, but there's nothing. Except for us, of course."

"Great," I said. "So I presume, if we've all just been thrown in this room together, there must be some sort of plan, right?" Seeing Ron shake his head, I started feeling frustrated. He wished he'd been here sooner, if only to make sure someone had control of the situation.

"Who got here first, anyway?" I asked.

"Malfoy," Harry spat, looking over at the Slytherin, who was leaning against the wall twenty metres from Harry, looking thoroughly bored by the situation. " Though that explains why he hasn't been on the Marauder's Map today," Harry said quietly, almost to himself, but I heard him.

"Harry, why are you still suspecting him? There's no evidence that Malfoy has done anything wrong all year. You've just got this hunch because we saw him at Borgin and Burkes' last year." I ask him.

"And the Unbreakable Vow Snape made," Harry added.

"Yeah, that too. But what can Snape do now? He's not here, is he?"

Harry paused for a moment, thinking. "Yeah, I suppose you're right," he finally admitted. "It's not like it makes a difference where Malfoy's a Death Eater or not, wherever we are now."

Frowning, I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could speak, there was an electronic humming noise, and a section of the wall slid open, allowing two men to walk through into the room. They were both dressed in black suits, but that was where the similarities ended. One of the men was short and thin, with thinning white hair and cold, narrow eyes. A white rose was tucked in the lapel of his suit. On his left stood a man a generation his younger, with short black hair and an equally hostile expression on his face. He carried a black notebook tucked under his left arm.

"Good evening, students," the smaller man said with an accent that was distinctly American, and he instantly had the attention everyone in the room. Even Malfoy had stopped brooding and had stood up to face the visitors.

"My name is Coriolanus Snow, and I'm sure you have many questions to ask me. So I suppose I'll do the sensible thing and let you ask away." This turned out to be a bad decision, as ten students stood up at once, calling out at the old man. Snow raised a hand to the group, and everyone fell silent again.

"Maybe we should try taking things a little slower, and ask things one person at a time."

"Please, sir!" I said eagerly, her hand shooting in the air as though she was in Charms class. "Would you mind telling us exactly where we are?"

A small smile crept onto Snow's face, but Harry couldn't work out what it meant.

"If I were to describe to you where you are, I doubt you would be able to comprehend it," Snow replied. "But historians have informed me that, in your time, this city would be known as Denver, in a state called Colorado. These days, we simply call it the Capitol."

"In our time?" Harry heard a voice ask from somewhere on his right; the voice of Justin Finch-Fletchley. "You mean to say that we've actually been transported into our future?"

"Not to beat around the bush, I would say that accurately sums up your situation," Snow nodded, and paused as the realisation of that sunk in around the room.

We've actually gone into the future?

The younger man nudged Snow on the shoulder. "Sir, if I may suggest so, a history lesson could come in handy for the students."

"Quite wise, Seneca," Snow agreed, before turning back to the students. "But I suppose that first of all, they should know why they are here today."

Everyone in the room gave just a little more of their attention to Snow.

"It may surprise you to know that, until just a few weeks ago, I didn't know that magic existed. Nobody here did, apart from a very small group of, er, what term do you like to be called by?"

"Witches and wizards," Seneca whispered in his ear.

"Ah, yes. Well, we didn't know magic existed until we caught a couple of wizards a month ago. They claimed that they were last of their kind, a dying race, if you like. They said that their magical community had been slowly dying out ever since the time of some ruthless dictator seized control - what was his name again?"

Seneca paused for a moment, flicking through his black notebook. "Voldemort, I believe," he said after a moment's silence. There was a collective gasp around the room.

"At least we've got the right group of magical students, sir," Seneca added. "Apparently wizards were scared of saying his name in their day."

Snow nodded, then continued. "Anyway, things started to go downhill for your lot after he got control, so we figured we'd do something to help you out."

Seneca stepped forward slightly, and continued the tale. "I'm no expert in magic, but I've tried to learn what I can, and I think I have a rough understanding. Lots of information about Voldemort-" he ignored the intake of breath around the room "- was revealed after he finally fell from power, including the fact that he had kept parts of his soul locked away within several objects, devices known as-"

"Horcruxes!" I was on my feet in an instant. "You know what the Horcruxes are?"

Seneca gave a slight nod, and I felt elation surge within him. "If our sources are accurate, the six Horcruxes created by Voldemort were his old school diary, a cup that had belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, a locket and a ring that had been Salazar Sltherin's, the lost diadem of Ravenclaw, and his pet snake."

"Nagini is a horcrux?" Harry cried out, shocked, and the eyes of his fellow students were all locked on him. He looked down, embarrassed for his outburst.

"The snake was a horcrux," Seneca replied. "Past tense. Using our superior technology fused with the magic of the wizards we caught, we managed to come into contact with a wizard leading the resistance against Voldemort, a man called Albus Dumbledore, and offered him our information. For a price, of course."

"And what was that price?" Ron asked.

Snow smiled slowly. "All of you."

"I'm sorry, but what?" I said, panic creeping into my voice. "All of us? What do you want with us?"

"Oh, it's nothing personal," Snow replied casually. "Here in the Capitol, we hold a special event every summer, known as the Hunger Games. In essence, it is a competition; twenty-four boys and girls from our country are sent to an isolated arena away from the rest of our nation. The last person alive is the winner. All we asked was that, in exchange for providing this Mr Dumbledore with the information he so badly needed, that he provide us with the children for this year's Hunger Games."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, and then only the cold, dry laugh of Draco Malfoy.

And then the room exploded in anger.

It really was too good to be true, I thought, cursing under I breath. And to think, I almost trusted him...

"How can you do this to us!" I screamed indignantly above the raucous voices of her classmates. "It's just barbaric!"

Snow shrugged. "It's life, girl. Sometimes we just have to play the hand we are given. Good luck, all of you. And may the odds be ever in your favour."

And with that, Coriolanus Snow turned on his heels and strode from the room.

So yes Chapter 1 is done. I decided to make this Hermiones Pov. This well probably take place before Chating Fire. So I hope you like this chapter Read and Review.

May the Odds ever be in your Favor- Sheeta Granger