So this is absolute trash FYI and I think Haymitch is OOC

soz


The victor of the 2nd Quarter Quell, Haymitch Abernathy

Haymitch was dead. He died of Cirrhosis in the liver. He was dead. But now he's alive.

"-name him Harry, after my Great Grandfather-"

Haymitch was a baby.

"-Godfather can be Sirius-"

He had been happy to die, he could have finally seen his family.

"-middle name can be your name, James"

But he wasn't dead. He wasn't with his dead loved ones.

"Harry James Potter"

He was alive once more.


Magic. That was a thing apparently. He had heard his 'parents' refer to it many times, nothisrealparentsneverhisrealfamily but had never actually believed them.

Until of course, he had been gifted with a flying broom from his dear Godfather, that had, reluctantly, convinced him.


This place was weird. Haymitch had decided. At first, he had suspected they lived in the Capitol, due to the number of luxuries they had, but the technology wasn't quite up to par. A district was also unlikely, considering the excess of everything toomuchtoomuchtoomuch There was also that whole 'magic' thing.


Godric Hollows, West Country, England, Great Britain.


PanEMpaNEmPAnemPanEMpaNEmPAnemPanEMpaNEmPAnemPanEMpaNEmPAnemPanEMpaNEmPAnemPanEMpaNEmPAnemPanEMpaNEmPAnemPanEMpaNEmPAnemPanEMpaNEmPAnemPanEMpaNEmPAnemPanEMpaN

Everything was gone

Everyone was gone

Panem was gone, Panem didn't exist


"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off -"


Lily and James were dead. Sirius was nowhere to be seen. He was alone.

againagainagainagain


The Dursleys were unpleasant people. Haymitch had met a lot of unpleasant people.


Life with the Dursleys wasn't too bad. He was fed toolittle, he was housed toosmall, and was educated notenough.

It was better than 12.

It was better than the Hunger Games.

It was better than War.

It was enough.


HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress


The-Boy-Who-Lived…..Mockingjay

(Haymitch wondered if this was how Katniss felt, being a symbol, getting put on a pedestal for a stupid reason.

.

.

.

.

.

He wondered if it felt this suffocating)


"How interesting."

Haymitch grunted, the Sorting Hat continued,

"I'm supposed to be sorting 11-year-old kids, not 60-year-old soldiers."

Haymitch sneered.

'You better shut your trap about this.'

The Sorting Hat chuckled.

"Don't be so hasty, I'm honour bound to keep students sorting secret, even if you aren't the typical student."

The Sorting Hats voice softened.

"You have been through many trials and tribulations with a heart so brave that Godric would be proud, your willingness to learn would have Rowena welcome you. But what triumphs over all, is your cunningness and ambition for the sake of your loved ones."

The Hat sighed.

"Your ambition has dimmed but you would do well in-"

"SLYTHERIN"


Popularity. Something that had been absent his whole life.

Haymitch was popular here. Apparently. It came with the fame. He was also unpopular. That came with the house.

A finger was pointed accusingly at him.

"YOU'RE A SNAKE."

It was the red-haired boy he had sat with on the train.

"Pardon?"

The boy flushed red.

"Y-You're Harry Potter, you're not supposed to be in Slytherin."

Haymitch looked at the boy in amusement.

"And since when were you the one to decide where I belong?"

The boy spluttered.

"W-Well, I-I, a-ah-"

"Come on Ronald," a bushy-haired girl yelled, "we're going to be late."

Giving Haymitch one last dirty look, the boy left.

Prejudice was a thing here as well, especially in his house.

"A half-blood in Slytherin huh," a boy sneered.

"Shush," a girl whispered.

"What," the boy defended, "he's the symbol of the light, the Boy Who Lived, he 'killed' the Dark Lord, someone like that doesn't belong in the House of Snakes."

"Hey," A white-haired boy intervened, "no one knows what happened that night, and regardless of his ancestry he's got the most political influence around here, leave him be."

"Fine," the chastised boy grumbled.

And that was how he made 'friends' with a certain Draco Malfoy. Haymitch had no doubt that the boy only hung around him for his political benefits, it was something he would do as well, but the boy's company was appreciated nonetheless. Even if he was a bit of a prat.

It was nice. Having friends.


KatnissPeetaEffiePEETAKatnissEffieEFFIEPeetaKatnissKATNISSPeetaEffiePEETAKatnissEffieEFFIEPeetaKATNISSKatnissPeetaEffiePEETAKatnissEffieEFFIEPeetaKATNISSKatnissPeetaEffiePEETAKatnissEffieEFFIEPeetaKATNISSKatnissPeetaEffiePEETAKatnissEffieEFFIEPeetaKATNISSKatnissPeetaEffiePEETAKatnissEffieEFFIEPeetaKATNISSKatnissPeetaEffiePEETAKatnissEffieEFFIEPeetaKATNISSKatniss


DeAdDEaDdeaDdEaDDeaDdEadDeAdDeAdDEaDdeaDdEaDDeaDdEadDeAdDeAdDEaDdeaDdEaDDeaDdEadDeAdDeAdDEaDdeaDdEaDDeaDdEadDeAdDeAdDEaDdeaDdEaDDeaDdEadDeAdDeAdDEaDdeaDdEaDDeaDdEadDeAdDeAdDEaDdeaDdEaDDeaDdEadDeAdDeAdDEaDdeaDdEaDDeaDdEadDeAdDeAdDEaDdeaDdEaDDeaDdEadDeAdDeAdDEaDdeaDdEaDDeaDdEadDeAdDeAdDEaDdeaDdEaDDeaDdEadDe


The Potions Master hated him.

No.

The Professor didn't hate him, He didn't know the Professor enough for him to warrant that sort of dislike. It was the idea of him, what he represented.

The Boy Who Lived represented many things.

The Boy Who Lived represented Hope, Peace, Love, and Light.

Harry Potter represented his parent's legacy.

Professor Snape went to school with his parents.

Haymitch wondered why the Potions Master never looked him in the eye.


"You're going to dual the Gryffindors?"

Draco scoffed, "Of course not, I told Filch some students were going to be out of bed at night and in the Trophy Room."

Haymitch hummed.


"Draco lied, you know."

The red-haired boy jumped in surprise, waving his hand wildly at him. "YOU AGAIN, w-what, y-you ah-"

"I told you, Ronald," the bushy-haired girl huffed, "let's go."

"N-No, wait," the boy spluttered before pointing at Haymitch accusingly, "why should we trust him he's a snake."

The girl rolled her eyes, "honestly Ronald, just because he's in Slytherin doesn't mean he's bad, he came all the way here to warn us."

"I-I think we should go back to the Common Room."

"But Neville, Slytherins are evil."

"Ah-hem, I'm still here."

"Well, you're-"

"Meow"

Haymitch whipped around, sitting behind them was the infamous Miss Norris herself.

The red-haired boy gasped, "If Miss Norris is here then-"

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

"RUN" the bushy-haired girl whisper yelled.

They ran.


"A three-headed dog."

"Oh be quiet Ronald, didn't you see what was under it."

"A trapdoor," whispered Haymitch.

Granger looked at him approvingly, "yes, obviously it's guarding something."

"Is that why Dumbledore said we couldn't go to that corridor," whispered Longbottom.

"Probably," Haymitch shrugged.

"Well." Granger looked at the three boys sharply, "whatever it is, we can't go looking for it again, we could be killed, or worse, expelled." With that final statement, she sauntered back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"She needs to sort out her priorities," Weasley grumbled.

Longbottom sighed before glancing at him awkwardly. "Thanks for warning us, I guess."

"Yeah," Weasley paused and added, almost reluctantly, "I guess some snakes aren't too bad."

Haymitch shrugged, "it's no big deal." Besides, he thought, he only did it as an excuse to explore the school.

Haymitch gave the Gryffindors a lazy wave before making his way back to the dungeons.


The Gryffindors seemed to be at peace with him for now, acknowledging him with a nod and giving him an occasional smile.

Draco didn't seem to notice the warmer attitude, he was more concerned about Gryffindor's house points, which hadn't dipped at all. The Gryffindors themselves thankfully made no mention of Haymitch's involvement, but that, unfortunately, left him privy to the Malfoy Heir's many complaints.

"Aren't Gryffindors supposed to be brave, I bet they chickened out at the last minute."

"I mean," Haymitch sighed, "it's not like you were planning to turn up at all."

"Yes but we," Draco pointed at Haymitch and himself, "are Slytherins, we're supposed to be like that."

Haymitch snorted but didn't say anything.

Prejudice was a nasty thing, and it was always the future generations that paid for.


I propose one final Hunger Games, using the Capitol children

It's only fair

Right

RigHt


A bushy haired girl pushed past Draco and Haymitch.

"Is Granger crying?"

Haymitch smirked. "I thought you didn't care about Gryffindors."

Draco flushed.

"Shut up."


"Granger's hiding out in the bathroom."

Draco scowled at him. "Why tell me?"

A devious smile lit Haymitch's face. "Well, for a minute there I thought you were concerned for her and-"

A pumpkin pasty was thrown at his face.

"Shut up."


"TROLL IN THE DUNGEON"

Haymitch looked up from his meal to see the quivering professor at the entrance of the hall.

"Thought you'd like to know."

Professor Quirrell fainted.

Then chaos.

"SILENCE"

Dumbledore paused. "Everyone will please not panic. Now, Prefects will lead their houses back to the dormitories. Teachers will follow me to the dungeons..."

Students began to hustle about, Prefects started rounding up their House.

"Isn't our Common Room in the dungeon though," Haymitch hissed.

Draco paused, "you're right," before his eyes widened. "Does Granger know about the troll?"

Haymitch studied Draco, taking in his paling face. The concern seemed genuine, and despite Draco's reservations on Granger's house and blood, he had seemed to oddly like her.

"Probably not," Haymitch said slowly, eyeing his reaction."Do you want to go warn her?"

Conflict flickered through Draco's eyes, torn between his own morals and the ones he'd been taught.

"I-eh, maybe, yes, she's a mudb-muggle-born, probably can't dual to save her life."

Haymitch snorted. Sure.

"You go ahead, I'll tell the Prefect about our dungeon problem."

Draco turned even paler but nodded anyway.

"You-ah, be fast."

Haymitch gave him a small smile.

This was good for Draco, he was slowly breaking away from the prejudice that had been instilled in him. Not to say Haymitch didn't care about Granger. He did. He just cared about Draco more.


"Weasley? Longbottom?"

"Potter," the redhead yelled, batting his arms at the troll.

The troll. Which had somehow migrated from the dungeon to the girl's bathroom. How convenient.

Longbottom and Draco appeared to be in the grasp of the troll, Granger was very close to joining them, Weasley seemed to be separated from his wand and was now resorting to hand waving in order to distract the troll.

Great

"Harry," Draco yelled. "A little help here."

"Right," Haymitch muttered. He pointed his wand at the troll's club, which lay abandoned on the floor.

"Wingardium Leviosa"

Slowly levitating the club, Haymitch observed the troll. The thing was stupid but it was strong. It was best to knock it out in one shot, and considering the trolls physique, probably around the head.

Haymitch lifted the club near the trolls head and swiftly knocked the troll out from the back of its neck, the troll fell to the ground, and in its less-than-conscious state, released the students from its grasp.

It was at that moment the professors chose to enter.

"What on earth is going on."

They were, as expected, furious.


"20 points to Slytherin," Draco cheered

"For sheer dumb luck," Haymitch reminded.

Draco scowled at Haymitch from his sleeping bag.

"Let me enjoy the glory."

Haymitch snorted.

The Slytherins were occupying the Great Hall for the night since the troll had been found in the dungeon and nobody wanted to take chances.

"Are you looking forward to the first Quidditch match against Gryffindor."

"Mhm."

"It's going the best game ever, especially since the Slytherins are going to crush them."

"Mhm."

"Harry?"

"Goodnight Draco."


WelCome to the 2nd QUarTer Quell

The BeSt HunGer GaMes in HistOry

OnE vIctoR

GamE

gaMe

GAME

game

It's just a gAMe


"What's with you people and pumpkin juice?"

Draco raised his eyebrows at him.

"It tastes good."

Haymitch gagged,

"It's disgusting."

Draco huffed.

"Have you not had it 'till now?"

"No, and it's terrible."

Draco raised his nose at him.

"Pumpkin juice is amazing, especially with breakfast."

"Sure"

"Anyway, forgot the juice, the match is starting soon."

Spitting out the rest of the juice, Haymitch followed.


"HELLO, AND WELCOME TO HOGWARTS' FIRST QUIDDITCH GAME OF THE SEASON! TODAY'S GAME SLYTHERIN VERSUS GRYFFINDOR," the commentator, Lee Jordan announced.

Draco and Haymitch were sitting in the stands, Draco all decked out in Slytherin colours and Haymitch not wearing a speck of green and silver.

"Come on Harry, show some support for your house," Draco whined.

"It's just a stupid game," Haymitch grumbled.

Draco sighed and resumed cheering.

Haymitch stared at the ball-Quaffle and focused his breathing. Right, it's just a stupid game, a sport, nothing like the Hunger Games.

"THE QUAFFLE IS RELEASED...AND THE GAME BEGINS!"

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, LET THE SEVENTY-FOURTH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES BEGIN!"

But why?

"ANGELINA JOHNSON SCORES! 10 POINTS FOR GRYFFINDOR!"

"BOTH TRIBUTES FROM THE SAME DISTRICT MAY BE DECLARED VICTORS IF THEY ARE THE LAST TWO ALIVE."

Why am I getting so worked about it?

"SLYTHERIN TAKES POSSESSION OF THE QUAFFLE. BLETCHLEY PASSES TO CAPTAIN MARCUS FLINT."

"IN CELEBRATION OF COMING THIS FAR, WE'VE ORGANIZED A FEAST!"

whY

Haymitch was shaking now, and Draco had noticed.

"Harry? Are you alright?"

He could feel blood crawling up his throat.

"I-I have to go."

Haymitch got up to leave.

"Harry, wait, HARRY!"

Haymitch ran.


The castle was empty due to the Quidditch match so Haymitch could make his way to the empty Potions Lab with little interference. Ignoring the oncoming dizziness, Haymitch began scouring through the many potion books in the lab 'till he found what he was looking for.

Mortis per Timor

This potion is a fear-inducing potion that puts the victim in a severe state of distress which will eventually shut down their body. This is generally more potent if the victim has experienced trauma before. Mortis per Timor can be identified by its unpleasant taste and its transparent colour.

This potion does not require a large dosage and for the average person, will take around 12 hours to 'kill'. This can, of course, vary depending on the individual and their own mental health.

The individual may 'heal' themselves by consuming a bezoar, but will continue to experience symptoms for up to a week. This potion is highly dangerous and should be treated immediately if one comes in contact.

Haymitch shoved the potions cupboard open, fumbling through the ingredients until he found what he was looking for. Grabbing the little stone he quickly stuffed it into his mouth.

The door opened.

"POTTER"


S everus wasn't sure what to expect. When Potter had run off during the game Dumbledore had given him that look and he had reluctantly followed. He had been sure that the boy was just going to the bathroom or something inconsequential like that. Instead, the boy had made his way over to the Potions Lab.

And hadn't that gotten Severus on an edge. Because what would Potter possibly want over there? If the boy was a Gryffindor he might have suspected him stealing or trashing the room. But Potter was a Slytherin…

Severus ended up getting side-tracked by Filch. So when he finally caught up with Potter he wasn't in a happy mood.

"POTTER"

The boy was on the floor, a bezoar halfway through his mouth and blood leaking from the corner. Severus immediately rushed towards him, placing his hand on the boy's forehead.

Shit, he was burning up.

"Potter, hey, POTTER."

The boy was becoming limper in his arms.

"B-Bo-eh-ok"

Book? Severus looked around him. Sitting on the top of his desk was an open book. Carefully he laid the boy down on the floor and moved towards the object. Seeing the contents, Severus could hear himself swear. Poison. Someone poisoned Potter, and Potter figured it out, judging by the open book and bezoar. Severus had to give him credit for that, Mortis per Timor wasn't even taught in the Hogwarts curriculum, and if it was, it would be a seventh-year potion.

"Ah-ah"

The boy had curled up into a ball, clutching his head between his arms.

"deaddeaddeaddeaddead"

Severus paled at the mutterings and began to gently shake the boy.

"Itsallmyfaultitsmyfaulttheyredeadikilledthemitsmyfault"

"Potter, wake up."

"imgoingbacktothegamestheyregoingbacktothegamesidontwanttogobackdontmakethemgoback"

The boy was hyperventilating, going into a panic attack. Severus had to do something. He laid the boy onto a couch nearby and began rummaging through his cupboard. The boy would need a Calming Draught and probably a Sleeping Draught as well, that way he could take the boy to Madam Pomfrey without too much of a fuss. Then he could go inform Dumbledore, someone was trying to kill Potter, and if it was who he thought it was, then he would have to speed up his investigation.

Why did he even make that stupid deal?

LillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLillyLilly


Haymitch woke up in the hospital wing.

"-shouldn't have been that bad, he's an 11-year old boy, he shouldn't have gone through something terrible enough to make it this potent, or have it react this quick"

"I understand your concern Poppy, and we will look into it but this was a good thing as well, if it weren't for the potions unusually quick reaction, then Harry wouldn't have been aware of the symptoms till he was fast asleep. "

"Albus I'm worried about that boy, completely disregarding the potion, his body was terribly malnourished and he had scars, Albus! And now someone has gone off and tried to kill him!"

"I will have his Head of House talk to him, Poppy.

"Thank you, Albus, I'll check on him now"

At that statement, Haymitch shut his eyes, right in time as Madam Pomfrey was just opening the curtains. She looked at him kindly, while he pretended to just wake up.

"How are you feeling?"

Her conversation with the Headmaster had made Haymitch a bit annoyed. He understood their point, he was mentally shit, but he didn't get the big deal about it. He had a rough life, lots of people did. What made him so special?

"Fine."

"Do you need anything?"

"Can I leave?"

The Matron frowned.

"That was a very dangerous potion you just consumed, you need rest."

Haymitch waved her off.

"I won't die, the bezoar made sure off that."

"I'm going to have to insist you stay, the bezoar will make sure you won't die but you will be plagued by symptoms and-"

"Let the boy leave Poppy."

The Matron and Haymitch both turned to the Headmaster.

"But Albus-"

"Sometimes the wounds of the mind are best healed when one is most comfortable, prescribe him some potions and bring him in for some check-ups, that will be fine."

The Matron bit her lip, unwilling to let go of her patient, but torn between the Headmasters logic.

"Fine, I'll give you some Calming Draughts so wait here for a bit."

The Matron bustled to her office.

The Headmaster smiled at him.

"Healers are determined people, I doubt Poppy will let you off again."

Haymitch gave him a small smile, remembering Katniss's mother.

"Yeah..."

"Dear boy do you have any idea what might have happened?"

Haymitch scowled at the 'dear boy' but answered anyway.

"My pumpkin juice was spiked, someone's trying to off me," he answered quite bluntly.

The Headmaster peered at him through his half-moon spectacles.

"How did you know it was the pumpkin juice?"

"I've never had it before, but considering that everyone here practically sings poetry about it, I guessed it wasn't supposed to taste as foul as it did."

"You've never drunk the pumpkin juice?"

"No, they might have been spiking my juice this whole year."

The Headmaster rubbed his beard thoughtfully.

"That...is concerning, we will take more care in checking the food we serve, however, I'm sure you'd understand why we'd like to keep this incident private."

Haymitch snorted.

"Right, to prevent panic, I'll keep my mouth shut."

The Headmaster nodded.

"I wish you a pleasant recovery Mr Potter, Hogwarts will do our best to ensure this incident never happens again"

The Headmaster left.

"Mr Potter I have your potions ready"

"Coming."


"What happened to you at the match."

Haymitch ignored the piercing look Draco sent him.

"I just felt a little sick."

"But you're not eating anything"

That was true, the incident had left him apprehensive of the food he was being served. It had also brought back so many memories from his past, the ones he had managed to push behind him. Now looking at the feast in front of him all he could think about was the starving people from 12. Not that they were starving since the War. But still...it made him nauseous.

"I'm not hungry."

Draco raised his eyebrows at him.

"You look a little pale, are you sure you shouldn't still be in the hospital wing?"

"I'm fine" Haymitch snapped, before looking a bit regretful, "look, I'm going to head over to the Common Room."

Draco looked at him suspiciously before shrugging, "sure."

Haymitch gave him a muttered thanks before making his way from the Great Hall to the dungeons. Entering the Common Room he rummaged through it, overturning every pillow till he found what he was looking for.

Shoving his prize underneath his robes he exited the dungeons and found a decently sized broom closet to lock himself into it. Once safely inside the closet, he unbottled his prize.

Firewhisky, the wizarding alcohol. He didn't have class tomorrow and these past few days had been pretty shitty. Normally he would have Vernon's supply to tide him over, but he'd gone cold turkey since entering Hogwarts. He had noticed the seniors drinking and where they had hidden the drinks but couldn't risk drinking himself without making it obvious. This 12-year-old body couldn't handle alcohol very well. But the Christmas Holidays started tomorrow so Draco wouldn't be at Hogwarts all day to notice any intoxication. It was perfect.

The liquor burned his throat, but he relished in it. The liquor made his mind foggy, but he craved it. The burn made him feel alive, more than he had been these past few days. He sought it out, basked in it. His intoxicated mind stuttered while drinking but he envied its drunken ignorance, its ability to forgot what haunted him during the day. It was amazing.

Haymitch fell asleep in a pile of his own vomit and tears.


Haymitch was hungover the next day.

He masked it well though, successfully avoiding Draco's questions on his whereabouts last night right through to seeing him off at the station.

"Bye Draco."

"Bye Harry, don't worry I'll get it out of you after the holidays."

Haymitch gave him a small smile.

"Sure you will."

The train sped off, and with his social obligations out of the way, Harry locked himself in a cupboard for the rest of the day, without the alcohol. He slept, he read, he thought, he puked, but most importantly he didn't have to interact with anyone else.

It was as good as the day could get.


Haymitch had planned to keep up the same schedule for the rest of holidays. Spend some days drinking, spend some days hangover but ultimately spend them all alone. He had even discovered the kitchens, so he wouldn't have to attend meals at the Great Hall and risk eating spiked food. The elves were too loyal to ever poison a student personally.

That was until his plans were interrupted by Professor Snape, thankfully on his sober day.

"What do you think you're doing Potter."

Haymitch blinked. His Head of House had corned him in the corridor near the Potions Lab.

"What do you mean?"

Professor Snape growled.

"You know what I mean, you haven't been showing up for meals and no one has seen hide nor hair of you in the Common Room or dormitories and you haven't been turning up for your check-ups with Poppy. So tell me, Potter, what's your game?"

"I...don't have one?"

The Professor seemed to search him for something, before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards his office.

"Huh"

The Potions Master dragged him into his office and slammed the door behind him.

"There were a couple questions that the Headmaster asked me to go through with you, as your Head of House."

Haymitch nodded.

"It is about...the poisoning incident."

Haymitch froze at that. He couldn't say he was surprised, the Professor had been the one to bring him to the Hospital Wing, he had also witnessed his panic attacks.

Snape continued his questioning.

"As you probably know, Mortis per Timor causes death by extreme fear. Normally, the potion would take 12 hours to come into effect, so someone intended for you to fall victim to it at night." Snape paused, studying him, "However you got a reaction only a couple hours in, this is extremely rare and only happens when the victim has gone through extreme trauma in the past or is of unstable mental health."

Haymitch stared at the Professor, he knew where this was going.

"I'm sure you know all this since you knew about the potion, so tell me, Potter, what happened."

Haymitch glared at him. He would admit that he had issues, but he wasn't going to share them with his teachers. No way was he spilling his guts about his old life. But he couldn't exactly brush it off after what they had seen. The best way was probably to blame the Dursley's for his 'trauma'. That would require fewer lies and half-truths since the Dursley's, by this world standards, technically did 'abuse' him.

"I'm fine," the first step was a healthy dose of denial. Admitting it outright would be suspicious.

Snape narrowed his eyes at him.

"No, you're not."

"I'm completely fine."

"All the signs say you're not."

"Maybe the potion was brewed incorrectly."

"Misbrewed potions don't give people panic attacks like that."

"Who knows, maybe this one did."

"Poppy says you're malnourished."

"Because I absolutely love eating food that's been spiked before."

"Severe malnourishment that implied long periods of time without food."

Haymitch paused at that. Malnourishment wasn't something he could easily deny since the Dursley's hadn't given him much and he hadn't gone out of his way to eat either.

"Ok, I'm not the healthiest, fine. What's your point." Step two, pretend to be oblivious of said 'abuse'.

"Malnourishment isn't a common thing Potter, neither is having bruises in the shape of belt marks. If you are being mistreated you should have seen a Professor immediately"

"I'm not being mistreated."

Snape ignored him.

"Now that we are aware we will talk to your guardians and Dumbledore."

"You don't need to talk to my guardians." This was perfect, now the Dursleys would get the blame.

"You are dismissed, Potter."

Haymitch walked away with a hidden smirk on his face.


Severus had solved the Potter Problem. He was being abused by his relatives.

It had left a bitter taste in his mouth considering how much Potter had mirrored his own situation. It also made him feel guilty. He and Dumbledore had taken upon the task of visiting the Dursleys after his 'chat' with Potter. Being the accomplished Legillimens they were, they had quickly found out Potter's situation. To say the Dumbledore was regretful was an understatement. The main thing that made Severus's own heart churn was Petunia. He would admit that part of Petunia's aversion to magic was his own fault and the fact he hadn't considered what someone like Petunia might treat magical child was a blow to his pride.

After their conversation with the Dursleys, they had secured a promise/threat that they wouldn't mistreat Potter anymore. Severus doubted they could get the Dursleys to show some affection for Potter, but at least this way they wouldn't withhold food or abuse him. Dumbledore had also agreed to tell Harry about the Blood Wards around Privat Drive in order to justify sending him back.

Despite having 'solved' everything Severus couldn't help but think there was more to Potter's scars than the Dursleys. The mutters of Potter, while he had been having a panic attack, had been...disturbing. When it came to Potter he felt as if he had only scratched the surface.

How typical, The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Trouble-Everyone.


Despite his conversation with the Potions Master, Haymitch continued to be reclusive. He did, however, make an effort to let at least one of his teachers see him, if only to get them off his back.


C hristmas Day had come with many new revelations. It turned out despite the 'abuse' he had suffered he still had to live the Dursleys, thanks to some stupid Blood Wards. Dumbledore had assured him that the Dursleys had been 'convinced' to treat him better, but he wasn't putting much stock in that. Oh well, it's not like he cared hedidhedidhedid and he hadn't put much hope in the teachers anyway. The most interesting thing that happened at Christmas had been his presents, which he hadn't expected at all. The Invisibility Cloak in particular.

Naturally, his first action was to explore the school at night. It was an interesting experience, especially the Mirror of Erised. The semi-breakdown he had in front of it had not been that interesting, but once he'd figured out the mechanics, Haymitch had been content to simply laze in front of the mirror. It wasn't a healthy decision but he had made himself promise not to return and allow himself this one indulgence.

The mirror had shown his family, the 46 tributes he'd mentored, Katniss and Peeta, Effie, the Victors, his girlfriend, and Maysilee. There they all were, in a not-destroyed District 12, looking happy and healthy. It was entrancing, just laying there and watching them. Seeing Katniss playfully arguing with Peeta, watching Effie chastise them in a very Effie way. The Victors having fun in a way that didn't mean their lives were on the line. His tributes and Maysilee living the lives the Hunger Games had taken, him with his family and girl. It was a dream that would never happen, couldn't happen seeing as most of those people were dead and he wasn't even in Panem. It hurt, but he let himself watch them, talk to them, as if they were real and not just an illusion.

whywhywhywhywhywhy


The Mirror of Erised was a curious, complex, and dangerous artefact. One that brought people's greatest desires into an unattainable reality. So really, Albus shouldn't have been surprised by Harry Potter's reaction towards.

When the boy started having a minor breakdown Albus had been tempted to throw off the Disillusionment Charm and help him. But Harry seemed to work past it quickly enough. Albus had been impressed when the boy figured out what the Mirror did, but had frowned when the boy decided to remain despite it. His next action had been most curious though, because then Harry started talking to it. It was unsettling, Albus recognised none of the places or names the boy had mentioned. The 'conversation' itself was pretty idle, nothing of apparent importance, but it made Albus wonder what the boy saw. He had expected it to be Lily and James, but there seemed to many more people than them, seeing as he referenced numerous names. But what worried him most was what Harry had said before he left.

"It was nice seeing you all, even if you're all just an illusion. It's not like I'll get another chance, considering most of you are dead." Harry pressed three fingers onto his lips and held them out to the mirror. Giving it one last sigh before leaving.

Harry never came back.


"How were your holidays Harry?"

"Alright."

Draco snorted.

"I knew it, you should have come stay with us."

Haymitch sighed.

"It was fine Draco."

Draco scoffed and Haymitch could only sigh.

"Hagrid asked me to come to his hut, you want to come with me?"

"Why would I want to visit that oaf?"

"You realise he's the only person who seems to be willing to say anything about my parents?'

Draco looked sheepish at that.

"Fine."


"A dragon egg!"

Draco examined the egg carefully, looking quite excited at the sight.

Hagrid looked quite proud of the egg.

"I won it. Off a stranger I met down at a pub. Seemed quite glad to be rid off it, as a matter of fact."

Haymitch wasn't as impressed as Draco.

"You do realise this is illegal?"

Hagrid seemed sheepish at that.

"'Ye won't tell anyone right?"

Haymitch raised his eyebrow but relented.

"No one important", he promised.


"We're going to get rid of that dragon."

"What! Whhhy," Draco whined.

Haymitch ignored him.

"There's no way Hagrid can keep a dragon hidden in a wooden hut, he's going to get in serious trouble."

Draco pouted but relented at that statement. He and Hagrid had developed an odd bond over their love of dragons.

"How do we get rid of it?"

Haymitch grimaced.

"By asking the Gryffindors."


Draco and Haymitch corned Weasley and his friends after Potions.

"We need a favour."

Weasley, Granger and Longbottom looked at them suspiciously.

"What favour?"

"It might be best if we showed you," admitted Haymitch.


The Gryffindors had the same reaction as Haymitch. Disbelief and Disapproval.

Granger was the first to try to get Hagrid to see reason.

"There is no way you're going to be able to keep this hidden, what are you going to do when the dragon hatches and grows big? It'll destroy your home."

"I'll house-train it." Hagrid dismissed.

"My brother a dragon-tamer and he says it's nearly impossible to house-train a dragon," Weasley continued.

"And the Ministry won't let you off easy, I know because my cousin once tried," Longbottom added.

The Gryffindors plus Haymitch were staring down the Gamekeeper at this point. Even Draco added his two-cents.

"If the Ministry finds the dragon they might try put it in some awful place."

That, of course, set Hagrid off, and they secured a promise too let them get rid the dragon once it hatched, much too Draco delight and the trio plus Haymitch's dismay.

Once they left the hut, they began to discuss how to dispose of the dragon.

"Actually," Haymitch admitted, "that's why I asked Weasley for a favour since one of his brothers is a dragon-tamer, I thought we could send it to him."

Weasley looked thoughtful at that, "yeah, I guess I could send Charlie a letter."

Haymitch allowed himself a small smile at that.

"Thanks"

"How are you going to sneak the dragon to him?" Granger questioned.

Haymitch smirked.

"I have my ways."


A dragon hatching was surprisingly unremarkable, despite Draco's claim of it being the most amazing thing ever.


According to Draco, invisibility cloaks were extremely rare and valuable and was therefore very upset when Haymitch hadn't shown him it before.


The quintet had come up with a plan to smuggle the dragon/Norbert. They would all meet up at Hagrid's hut to say 'goodbye' and then Haymitch since it was his idea, and Weasley since it was his brother, would bring the dragon to the highest tower where Charles's friends would come pick it up.

The plan worked perfectly, and the two groups had come to an unsteady friendship. The trio and Draco had also taken to visiting Hagrid whenever Haymitch would.


"There's been a break-in at Gringotts!"

"What," Draco and Longbottom turned to Weasley in shock.

They were all sitting in Hagrid's hut, and Weasley had been reading at the Daily Prophet.

"Has anything been taken?" Granger questioned.

"Nothing," Weasley threw the paper down in apparent disbelief, "but they didn't catch the criminal either."

"When was the break-in?" Queried Haymitch.

"On the 31st of July," Weasley answered.

Haymitch looked at Hagrid suspiciously, who was shifting uncomfortably in his own massive chair.

"What a coincidence, that's the same day Hagrid and I visited Gringotts."

"Maybe you guys met the thief at Gringotts?" Draco suggested.

"Maybe."

When it was almost curfew the trio and Draco got up to leave, Haymitch insisted on staying a little longer.

"I'll catch up with you soon," was what he told Draco.

Once the students left, he corned Hagrid.

"So Hagrid," he started off pleasantly, "the break-in at Gringotts doesn't have anything to do with the 'top secret Hogwarts business' you did at Gringotts right?"

Hagrid laughed nervously, "o-of course not."

"Really?" Haymitch raised his eyebrow, "what about the three-headed dog in the forbidden corridor?"

Hagrid bristled at that, "how do you know about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?"

Hagrid winced at the slip, "yer a student Harry, stay out of this, this is between Nicholas Flamel and Dumbl-" He clamped a hand over his mouth.

Clearly his throat, Hagrid spoke, "ya know it's almost curfew, better run along Harry."

Haymitch sighed.

"I'll see you later Hagrid."


'The Philosophers Stone huh.'

Haymitch put down the book.

'Who keeps something that valuable in a school full of children?'


Using the invisibility cloak Haymitch had already mapped out most of the castle. The only place which he hadn't would be the Forbidden Forest, which was his next target. After all, he mused, the forest from an enemy standpoint was a huge hole in security. So it was best to get some familiarity with it.

Per usual he waited until his dorm mates were fast asleep before leaving. Getting out of Hogwarts wasn't too difficult, thanks to some of the weird passages he'd discovered, Filch was easy to avoid, considering he was invisible. Once outside the castle, he made his way towards the edge of the forest.

Murmuring a Lumos Haymitch crept into the pitch black forest. He could see why the forest was 'forbidden', the whole thing was twisted tangled mess of branches and leaves. One could also hear the wails and rustles of the forests roaming inhabitants. Haymitch himself hadn't planned to go too far into the forest, he only wanted to get a rough idea on what it was like.

After a few minutes of aimless wandering, he stumbled into...something. A hooded figure...drinking the blood of a...unicorn? The...thing noticed him and began to make their way over towards him, not with good intentions he suspected. Grimacing, Haymitch aimed his wand at the figure, mentally running through the various curses and counter-curses he knew, just as he was about to fire, another creature rushed past, knocking the figure onto to the ground. The hooded thing fled and Haymitch was left with the other creature, a centaur.

"Harry Potter, or Haymitch as you might address yourself, I must ask what you are doing in this forest?"

Haymitch lowered his wand but continued to study the creature.

"How do you know that?"

"The stars foretell numerous things, your visit to this realm has not gone unnoticed by them. Your visit to this forest will not, however, be welcomed by all, despite your unique situation, I suggest you leave. Now is not the time for you to meet those who dwell here."

Haymitch nodded, not questioning it too much. Magic was weird, it wasn't too surprising that other creatures could learn these things.

"What was that thing?"

"A monstrous creature. It is a terrible crime to slay a unicorn. Drinking the blood of a unicorn will keep you alive even if you are an inch from death. But at a terrible price. You have slain something so pure that the moment the blood touches your lips, you will have a half-life. A cursed life."

Haymitch processed that information. A cursed life, he could think of one thing desperate enough to live like that. And considering what was in the castle…

Haymitch groaned.

"Voldemort...the Stone..uhhh."

The centaur nodded.

"Your relationship with a different set of stars has meddled with your connection with him, but it is given that you are of interest to him."

"Connection?"

"A prophecy was gifted to the humans, you and the half-life are who it speaks off."

Haymitch frowned.

"Can you tell me what it was about?"

The centaur shook their head.

"The information I have given is already too much, it is only your disconnection from this world that has allowed me to gift you this knowledge. We centaurs do not meddle in wizarding affairs, I suggest you address this with Dumbledore."

Haymitch grimaced but nodded.

"What is your name?"

The centaur looked at him appraisingly.

"It is Firenze, I suggest you begone now, Haymitch Abernathy."

Haymitch nodded and Firenze galloped away, leaving Haymitch to track back to the castle.


Haymitch had come to a moral dilemma. Should he save the Philosopher's Stone?

Before he hadn't been too concerned because of Dumbledore, who was a remarkable wizard and perhaps the only one who Voldemort feared. But Dumbledore had left to go to the Ministry for some reason and it was the perfect opportunity for someone to steal the Stone. The morally correct response would be to save the Stone. But apart from Fluffy, he had no idea about the other protections he suspected there were. Who knows, it could be perfectly safe where it was. Of course, he could always tell a teacher, but he suspected only Dumbledore would be insane/paranoid enough to believe him.

Decisions, decisions, decisions.

On one hand, he had a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Peeta telling him that he should save or at least check on the Stone. Since no one except maybe Dumbledore seemed to know what Firenze told him and if the Stone was in danger then saving it could prevent another war.

On the other hand, he also had a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Katniss telling him that the wizards weren't his problem, and that if the professors were stupid enough to keep something so dangerous/valuable in a school then the protection had to be good enough to prevent Voldemort from getting too it.

To be honest, Haymitch was more inclined to agree with the Katniss-voice, but Peeta had always been the most reasonable...

Screw it, he was going after the Stone.


Haymitch didn't have much of a plan. He would anonymously owl the Headmaster first, just in case, and would sneak out at night to the third-floor corridor, the rest he could just wing. He would have preferred to gather some more information before doing this, but beggars couldn't be choosers. He would have to make do with what he knew. Draco, obviously, wouldn't be coming with him, the Malfoy Heir was just a kid and he was mentally over 60. Besides, Draco had no clue about what was going on. It was better like this.


The first obstacle, which he had known, was Fluffy. Fluffy, it turned out, could be lulled to sleep with music, because by the time he had reached the room, there was a harp lying on the floor and Fluffy was fast asleep. Haymitch was no musician, nor had he brought an instrument with him. He did, however, have his voice, and given the relationship he had with Katniss, had picked up one or two things from her. One song in particular.

"Deep in the meadow…"

Fluffy continued to sleep; if anything Fluffy fell into a deeper sleep. Haymitch kept singing until he was safely through the trapdoor.


The second obstacle was Devils Snare, which wasn't too much of struggle, some fire and light spells were enough to take care of that.


Haymitch wasn't the keenest flier, but that didn't mean he was bad at it. Enchanted keys weren't too much of a problem.


Chess had always been quite easy for Haymitch. He guessed that when you've participated in actual wars, a giant chess set didn't seem that daunting.


A troll had been the fifth obstacle, but clearly, the thief had already taken care of it since it was lying unconscious on the floor.


Haymitch had always prided himself in being somewhat clever, so the riddle had been solved with ease. He personally didn't see the point of the riddle. Just tell the Dumbledore the right potion and leave everyone else in the dark. Or better yet, have no potions at all.


"Professor Quirrell?"

The turban-wearing man was standing in front of what appeared to be the Mirror of Erised. He turned to him with a twisted smile on his lips.

"Ah, Potter, I had been waiting or you."

'Maybe I should have listened to Katniss for once'

"You're the thief?" The best thing to do now was to stall.

The man chuckled.

"Yes, who would have thought the thief would be p-poor st-stuttering Q-Quirrell."

'It was a pretty good disguise,' he thought, 'a lot like what Johanna did.'

The man returned his attention to the mirror.

"Now...what does this mirror do? I see what I desire. I see myself holding the Stone. But how do I get it?"

While Quirrell pondered over the mirror, Haymitch pondered on how to escape.

'The Stone is probably safe in the mirror, Quirrell can't seem to get it so it's probably something to do with the intention of getting the Stone, so' he thought, 'time to leave'. Haymitch started to move quietly towards the exit, fumbling for the potion that let him go back.

"Use the boy," a raspy voice called from the back of Quirrell's head.

Just as Haymitch was about to cross the fire Quirrell pulled him towards the Mirror using his wand.

"The potion."

Quirrell knocked the bottle from his hands and pushed him towards the mirror.

"Tell me, Potter, what do you see?"

Haymitch saw the same thing he saw last time. Probably because he didn't want the Stone.

"I see myself with my family," it technically wasn't a lie.

"Let me speak to him," the raspy voice that Haymitch was beginning to believe belonged to Voldemort spoke again.

"Master, you are not strong enough."

"I have enough strength for this."

Quirrell slowly unwrapped his turban, at the back of his head lay another face, Voldemort, Haymitch assumed.

"Harry Potter, you do not wish for the Stone?"

"No, not particularly." He answered.

"Are you sure? If you get me the Stone I will have the power to give you everything. Power and wealth, surely this would appeal to you? You're a Slytherin, aren't you? By my side..."

While Voldemort was monologing Haymitch had begun to discreetly put out the purple flames near him. Going through the fire would be faster/easier with a potion, but that didn't mean it was impossible without one. All he needed was time.

"You tried to kill me, why should I trust you?" Keep talking, keep talking.

"Ah yes, that was...unfortunate. Although your reaction has led me to believe we are more alike than you think. But we must set the past aside. Join me, Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. All you have to do is look in the mirror and wish for the Stone."

Haymitch narrowed his eyes at that statement.

"If Quirrell couldn't get you the Stone, what makes you think I can?"

"Quirrell requires the Stone so he can use it, you do not need it so you will be able to receive it, Dumbledore is a cunning man."

Haymitch paused, pretending to think it over.

The purple flames finally doused itself.

"No."

Haymitch ran.

"GET HIM."

Quirrell pointed his wand at him.

"Petrificus Tota-"

Haymitch aimed his wand at Quirrell's chest.

"Stupefy!"

Quirrell fell to the floor, unconscious.

Haymitch slowly crept towards the man, gently removing the wand from the man's grasp.

Haymitch hadn't actually considered what to do at this point. He could just leave the man here for Dumbledore, but if he wakes up again…

"Ducklifors."

The man in question turned into a duck, an unconscious one. Haymitch picked the duck up by its neck and conjured a cage.

"Decipula."

Haymitch smirked as he placed the duck inside the cage. He could just mail this to Dumbledore with a note and the Headmaster could take care of half-face.

Hidden once again under the invisibility cloak, Haymitch left.


Albus had been greatly worried when he received an anonymous letter that said the Philosopher's Stone was in danger. Of course, the letter was anonymous and he had no way of knowing if this was a prank. But the person had known about the Stone so after some hesitation, Albus returned to Hogwarts.

When he reached Hogwarts and eventually the third floor he was surprised to see most of the protection disabled, but the Stone still safely in the mirror. His first conclusion had been that someone, probably Quirrell, had gotten through the enchantments put couldn't get past the mirror so they had left. Then he attempted to find Quirrell, and to his surprise, Albus couldn't find him. Then he had received another letter from the same person, along with an unconscious duck in a cage.

Dear Dumbledore

This duck is actually a man who's got Voldemort stuck at the back of his head. I'd appreciate it if you did something about it, Voldemort and the Philosopher's Stone are not a good combination.

Cheers,

Geese-are-better-than-ducks

Once in his office, he had untransfigured the duck to find an unconscious, turbanless, Quirrell. Who indeed had a face at the back of his head which Dumbledore did suspect was Voldemort.

Making sure the man was unconscious -and body-binding him just in case- Albus summoned for Severus. Severus was equally confused about the scenario and suggested using Veritaserum to find out. Albus decided against it, waking the man up would be risk and Voldemort would likely leave the body before Qurriell could say anything that might be used against him. In the end, they simply expelled Voldemort from Quirrell's body, killing Quirrell in the process. Severus went to investigate the third-floor corridor and he was left to ponder over the mysterious sender.

Albus would admit that at first, he had sort of hoped it was Harry. As the Child of the Prophecy, he had hoped the boy would develop some heroic traits. But the spell-casting displayed was far too advanced for any first-year, and Harry appeared to be quite mediocre in class. Unless he was faking it…

Albus shook his head, no, there was no way an 11-year-old could possibly defeat a teacher, especially one as proficient as Quirrell, in a dual.

"-can talk to snakes-"

"-boy's a genius-"

"-stronger than most adult wizards-"

"-Tom Marvelo Riddle-"

But that didn't mean make Albus any less uneasy, the similarities between Tom and Harry were uncanny. He couldn't judge people by their Houses, but still…


It was the end of year feast, and the Gryffindors had won the house cup. Draco seemed quite bummed out by this, though Haymitch himself didn't particularly care. The Headmaster had also mentioned that Professor Quirrell would not be returning to his post for 'health reasons' but otherwise remained quite tight-lipped about the Stone incident.

In the end, Haymitch had no idea what happened to both the Stone and Quirrell, and he honestly didn't care. He had 'saved' it out of the very little Peeta-influenced goodness in his heart and couldn't care less what Dumbledore chose to do with it.

Overall though, he had quite a nice year.


Haymitch was outside Platform 9 ¾, waiting for the Dursleys. He had given a quick goodbye to Draco and his family as he hadn't wanted them to meet the Dursleys since he had no doubt they would rub each other the wrong way.

The Dursleys arrived half an hour late, probably on purpose, but they were as pale as chalk.

"Come on boy, hurry up." Petunia whispered sharply.

'Guess the teachers really did say something to them,' he mused.

"Now."

Probably not much.


Answering non-existent questions

1. Why didn't Haymitch/Quirrell get affected by Quirrell/Haymitch?

I don't think Lilly saved Harry with love, otherwise, more people would have survived the killing curse. I think she used a spell. That spell didn't work properly here because Harry is not normal so that didn't happen. This will be explained in depth later.

2. Where are Harry's glasses?

I kind of forgot about them so let's just say he doesn't have them.

3. Why is Snape so OOC?

Snape hates Harry because of James, Harry being in Slytherin sets him apart from James. He still doesn't like Harry but will tolerate him.

4. Why is Haymitch OOC?

That might just be my fault, but I think he would act a bit differently to the books cause he would have 'peace' time to mellow out a bit. And if he seems childish that's probably him getting influenced by his 'peers'. I tried to make it in character but idk if it worked, it might seem like an OC or SI to you and if it is I'm sorry! I tried! I will hopefully improve in future chapters.

If I think of anything else to explain I'll put it here.

If you find any mistakes in this story please feel free to comment/review on them.

thx