Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Hunger Games. None of it.
Hope you enjoy this crossover! Comments welcome and appreciated :)
While we were in our own magical world, we did not know that the earth around us was suffering an apocalypse.
Our wizarding school, Hogwarts was, indeed, too safe, protecting us from the wars that raged outside, the diseases that took lives, the natural disasters that tore the continents into pieces. Floods, tsunamis, volcanoes, blizzards, earthquakes. In a matter of months, the world we knew was gone.
The worst part was that it happened so fast. All of a sudden, the letters you sent to your parents simply weren't answered. It took until break for us to figure out that we weren't going home for the holidays. Everyone was dead outside.
That was when Headmaster Dumbledore realized that we must be relocated, or we would die with the others. Water levels were rising, and England was soon due to go under. We thought there was no hope, until we heard of a nation across the sea. Panem. Their Capitol told us they would take care of us, and give us a new home.
All of the students orphans, we were taken there. District 9 3/4. We still go to Hogwarts, but it is no longer a School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
They took our magic. Every single bit of it, gone. When the Capitol said we could move here, there was one condition: that we become like Muggle humans. It was either to give up your magic, or your life. Guess what most of us chose.
Our district's new trade is clothes-making. I guess the Capitol figured that we're all still young, and they can work us half to death because we'll always live through it. So every day, after lessons at Hogwarts School of District 9 3/4, I work my fingers to the bone in a sweat shop with all of the other girls and sew clothes for people in the Capitol. For seven hours, almost straight through. The boys don't have it much better. When they're not helping to make the clothes, too, they spend countless hours loading boxes of the apparel we make to be shipped away.
After a while, you get used to it. You learn to accept the fact that you are an orphan, that you have no control over what happens in your life, and you learn to ignore the pain. You learn to wear an unreadable mask on your face, so that no one can see what you're really feeling. You learn to not say everything you think out loud, because one wrong comment and you're being punished publicly.
One more thing. Apparently, before we came here, there were 13 districts. They rebelled against the Capitol, and District 13 ended up being blown sky-high. The Capitol wanted to make sure that the remaining districts paid for the uprising, so every year, each district must send two children, a boy and a girl, between the ages of 12 and 18. These tributes will be placed in an arena to fight to the death, until one lone victor remains. The winner is showered with honor and prizes and admiration, and the Capitol's happy for a year. Then next year, they do it again.
An on and on the cycle goes, each year a new set of Games, a new victor.
The Capitol didn't think it fair that we were the only district that didn't have to participate. So, beginning last year, our names were entered into the bowls to be drawn. Two unfortunate children, sent as tributes for our district, to be slaughtered in punishment for something we never did wrong.
I am Hermione Granger. I am 16 years old, and my home is District 9 3/4. My name is in the reaping bowl 18 times.
Oh, and the reaping is tomorrow.