Disclaimer: The characters in the story belong to Susan Collins. If they belonged to me, Hunger Games would have had a different ending. :)

Fan-moment: I'm your die-hard fan, Canidae. (if you're reading this.) Because my favourite fan-fic author left the story unfinished, I lost my sleep. The story upto this point belongs to Canidae.( s/7301214/1/Night-and-Day), and this is my fan-fiction of Night and Day.

Chapter 1

Now that Katniss is permanently excused from attending school, she often spends a few hours at our place every couple of days. Since I don't get to see Gale until Saturday evening, or occasionally on a Sunday, I welcome her presence. At least, it keeps me from spending every second of my idle-time worrying about Gale while he pounds away at the suffocating walls deep in the mines.

Even after so many weeks of having Katniss around, I still feel a little awkward, and fumble around for topics that will not somehow manage to upset her. I can see that she's trying- really trying hard- to open up, and I decide not to push her by mentioning Peeta or anything to do with the Games. I actively skirt around mentioning Gale's name- she doesn't have to know how we had come so close to toeing the line just a few nights back. Just the mere thought is enough to send me back to the moment, how his gray eyes smoldered in the soft light of the sunrise, how those muscles rippled on his back as he pulled on his jacket. A deliciously wicked memory of Gale teasing the strap of my night-dress off my shoulders sends a slight shiver through me. I can almost feel his lips at my neck. Even in a half-asleep and half-intoxicated state, my brain did not fail to register how it felt to have him really touch me (As if I would need liquor when Gale's mere presence serves the same purpose.), and that too not quite. He had frozen all of a sudden, said he didn't want to have to rush. But that only left me wanting more.

Katniss notices my sudden lapse in attention, and asks me if I was feeling alright. I brush it off with a slight cough. I hope my red hot ears don't give me away. I ball my hands into fists to keep it from trembling slightly, and try to listen to her as she speaks fondly about how she finally has the joy of seeing the hungry kids running around with the food from the Parcel Day.

I want to ask her a lot of details about the Games- I have perfect reason to; every scrap of information that I can gather will be crucial for the cause my father, mother, and now I have decided to fight for- I refrain from doing so. Let her figure out a way out of all the mess she's landed herself in. Which again brings me back to Gale. Though I have already given him my opinion about the strike he's been planning in the mines, I don't know whether he will choose to listen to me. He can be extremely driven-to the point of stupidity even, if his belief in the cause is staunch enough, and I find myself praying to the universe that he does choose to listen. Not because I feel that I'm right, but because I have a broader idea of everything that is happening, and one tiny mis-step will tip the odds dangerously against our favour.

Katniss shows me the sketches of the outfits she's supposed to wear on her Victory Tour, and asks me what I think about each one of them. At last, some girl-talk which I never thought she would indulge in. That's when I hear my father's footsteps down the hall. He knocks on my door before sticking his head in.

"Magpie, I need you to-", he breaks of mid-sentence as he realizes that I'm not alone. I colour slightly when he uses my nickname in front of Katniss.

"Hello, Mayor Undersee." Katniss greets him politely, tactfully choosing to ignore my embarrassment.

"Hello Katniss. Give my greetings to Peeta." My father looks a little haggard and wary, and I get the feel that something is not right. He doesn't say anything else, but simply nods at me before leaving, silently telling me to come see him when I'm free.

Katniss and I speak for some more time before she mentions that she has to go collect Prim from school. She thanks me for the lemonade and a friendly chat and leaves after inviting me to her new house whenever I feel like.

Hell's teeth, she has taken me completely apart, piece by piece, figured me out better than I have ever figured out myself. This impossibly warm and kind girl, that I had written off as a wishful thinking a mere few months ago, now has given me a new hope. Again. Hope to stay strong, to never give up- hell's bell, to even fight back.

What Madge had said the other day on the porch-steps hasn't left me for a second. I keep repeating her words in my head. You walk a fine line...I'm glad you're here, and I want you to keep coming back. Her idea of getting the whole mine to strike against the Capitol makes more sense, as opposed to the few teams that I was originally planning to get on board- now that I am thinking things more carefully. What she said makes perfect sense, how a few teams will be dispensable and easily replaceable. The Capitol has made it abundantly clear before just how disposable we miners are, what with so many hungry people out here waiting in line for a job whenever that's available.

Just thinking about her gives me the will to fight the dark shadows that forever lives here, deep down in the earth, threatening to take us all into its folds. I think of her words as I pound into the seam with my pickaxe.

You think you're invincible, Gale. That she thinks I'm strong enough makes me feel invincible.

Thump. Thump. Thump. I keep hacking at a coal seam with my pickaxe.

If possible, just try to get the other workers to network. Now that's the challenge in Twelve. It's all or none scenario for us. Unlike the other bigger districts, where even if only half the population causes a strike, it stands valid because of sheer numbers. It's all down to the math. The more we are, the lesser odds we face.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I hear a few workers having a whispered talk, the noise making a perfect cover for holding discussions.

"Hawthorne, how can you be so sure that the other teams will want to join in?" asks one of my crew-mates.

I instantly bristle at his question. However not? I want to shoot at him. "Would you rather there're no changes in the conditions we work in? If not about the wages, then how about safety?", I speak through gritted teeth, my hands forming fists. I want to punch something real bad. No wonder District Twelve is a laid-back, backward district, because we're all a bunch of cowards. People get blown up, their children get medals of Honour, and that's it. Everyone happy to get back to work, and then get blown up in the next mine explosion. That's how the cycle goes. A fucking pathetic way to live.

"OK,OK! I'm jus' askin'. No need to get all worked up."

"Maybe you should go talk to the team-leaders if you want to appear less suspicious. It wouldn't do us a favour being caught fraternizing with a different team every day.", I say in a flat voice, glaring at them. They seem to shrink a little. Hell, these people don't even know how to avoid trouble. As if the Capitol doesn't know exactly what you're playing at if suddenly one day you went over to another team altogether to have a friendly chat. Welcome to reality, these are the mines, and we're the walking dead. People hardly exchange greetings down here, let alone seek one another out for a chat.

Thom shakes his head sadly,"What if they don't agree? You know how most of them are like, mate. Hungry mouths to feed at home, and what if the risk doesn't pay off."

"Then make them understand!", I snarl at him. "It's for everyone's benefit. I mean-look at us!"

Asher and Leon, the other team-mates just stare blankly at me. Hell's bell, this is going to take some real pep-talk. I swear and get back to chipping away at the seam with an insane burst of energy. She says she admires the fight in me. I'll give her the fight to admire.

"This doesn't sound good, you know.", my mother speaks up quietly from her corner after listening to what my father had to say.

"I agree. Till yesterday, no one mentioned anything regarding the President's arrival here in Twelve." My father looks at us gravely. "You know they are nothing but thorough. The Officials' visits are planned weeks ahead, and here we are talking about the President."

This makes no sense to me, since all the Capitol-sponsored events are over already after Katniss and Peeta's return.

"Dad, did they mention why?" I am just as confused as he is. There are other things to worry about- an uprising in Eight, for example- surely Snow isn't coming here on a vacation?

The news about Snow's arrival here in district Twelve in two days time makes me sick with worry. Gale.

I haven't seen him in some time, and a determined Gale in a span of mere days is a dangerous idea. What if Snow has somehow gotten wind of what he's been trying to achieve in the mines? Is that why he's rushing up here without notice?

"Magpie, these are the Capitol lands," my father says with a sad chuckle. "The President doesn't need to give an excuse to go somewhere. He may as well walk into our house right at this moment without an invitation."

"Does Haymitch know?"

"No, I came home as soon as I got the message from our sources in the Capitol. I have to prepare for his welcome. Which brings me to you. You have to go tip him off. Can you do that for me, dear?"

"Of course, Dad." I walk over to him and give him a quick hug before slipping on my shoes and jacket.

"Be careful, Magpie. And try not to be late.", says my mother.

"Am I not always, Mother? Don't worry about me. You go up to rest, Ok? If I'm late, please don't stay up."

The Victors' Village is quite a distance from my house, though not as far as the Seam, but the walk is tiring. Because it's not his house you're going to. Heh. I can't think like that.

All the houses in the Village, save three, are uninhabited, and have a creepy haunted feel to them. I try not to look at them as I make my way towards Haymitch's house. I ring the doorbell, but of course, he doesn't answer. Drunk, perhaps? I try again, keep ringing it incessantly until I hear him hollering down the stairway, crashing into the furniture. After a long while, he finally realises someone's at the door and opens it.

"Oh, it's the Princess!", he gives me a drunken salute and a sloppy grin before holding the door open wider.

"It isn't a courtesy call, I assume?"

" , my father thinks it's an emergency, and so do I." As I mention my father, he sobers up a little, and his eyes focus on me. It's almost comic.

"What now?" he growls.

"Well, there will be a Snow-storm." I give him a cryptic reply. One can never trust the houses here in the Village. As comfortable and state-of-the-art they might be, there is also a chance they might be bugged.

Haymitch looks at me intently for a minute, trying to decide whether I'm being serious or not, and then finally says, " When?"

"Not sure. Couple of days, tops."

"Is this from the usual source?" Meaning: Has the news come from the Official Channel?

"No. Just thought you might want to know. Nobody's supposed to know, though.", I will him to understand that he shouldn't tell this to either Katniss or Peeta. When he nods and thanks me for the 'weather' tip-off, I walk out of his house, plan on walking around the town a little before going back home.

I wander around aimlessly for a while, not really watching my steps, and I feel a sudden tug at my ankle. Ouch!

If not for a pair of hands, I would have fallen flat on my face. I look around to thank my savior and find myself looking into Rory's face.

"Thanks, Rory."I smile at him gratefully.

"No problem, Madge. But you need to be careful. We can't have you drown in the gutters.", he says with a half-smile that reminds me so much of Gale. He's already grown a foot taller than me. I look towards where he's pointing and see that I had just tripped on the open latch of the drain-cover. Ugh.

"Well, that would be pretty interesting news here, won't it? 'The Mayor's daughter finally gets what she deserved'?" I laugh, rolling my eyes.

Rory joins in, "Well, that'd be a tragedy, Madge" he says with a theatrical mock-horror on his face.

"And why would that be, Rory?" I mimic his expression.

He thinks around hard for a while before he answers with a straight face. "Let's see...how about, I can't ever look Gale in the eye if I let you drown in the dirty gutter water?"

Oh bother. Is it so obvious, that even a twelve-year old boy has noticed? I can feel the blood creeping up my face, and I change tack at top speed. Though I'm tempted to mention Prim and give him a taste of his own medicine, I decide to not bother him. Poor kid has it enough from his brothers as it is.

"What are you doing in town?"

"Oh, the usual. Running rounds for Mum to see if anyone has any laundry. Now I've taken over the job from Gale.", he says before adding in a quieter voice, "The only thing he'll let me do. Still won't take me with him to hunt. Still won't let me take out tesserae, even though we need it."

It smacks me hard in the face that an innocent twelve-year old has to worry about contributing to the family's provision, or be hurt over the fact that his protective older brother has taken most of the danger squarely upon his own shoulders, refusing to let him share it, or that he has to even feel responsible by endangering his life to help provide for his family. It hurts even more because it has hit closer to home. Anyone from Gale's family is closer to home. The unfairness of it all makes my resolve stronger.

It's then that I finally decide. I will do whatever it takes to make this Cause work.