Disclaimer: *insert respective disclaimer*

Revised 28 March 2012

Final Edit 22 April 2012


"Harry Potter!"

The glass-eyed boy's hands stopped quivering. The chill of the fog had disappeared, and all that was left was his warming cheeks as he spotted his face on identically humongous screens. The other boys around him began to whisper – grins and sighs of relief emanating from their mouths. Harry wanted to ask what was going on, but found that his lips were shut tight.

So he remained frozen in place, staring at the screens until one of the people behind him pushed him forward. The action became a precedent as others copied the boy's action. Yet the whispering never stopped.

Harry twinged in agitation as he finally surged to his feet and pulled himself away from the pushing hands. He ignored some snickers that vibrated through the crowd and finally stepped on the stage. His thoughts of confusion momentarily gone – Harry stiffly nodded at the exuberant lady before him before coming to stand by the only other person on stage.

A voice hissed something inside his mind, and Harry found himself imitating the name, "Katniss Everdeen?"

The girl beside him rose her head, and Harry finally got a good glimpse of the other person beside him. She was tall and gaunt, with stormy gray eyes that plagued Harry's thoughts. Her brown hair was intricately tied back as she raised one eyebrow at him discreetly.

Is that her name?

However, before Harry could think or do anymore, the lady turned to them. She smiled – a big, plastic thing in the shape of an unusual tainted pair of lips. She gestured to the crowd and then to them. "Tributes," she announced in a high tone. "Shake hands."

Harry's body instinctively turned to face Katniss. Her expression hadn't changed much, but it softened to a little degree. Harry was sure that she would have appeared prettier if not for her cold demeanor. His hand firmly shook hers before they were ushered away.

But as they were led far from the crowd, Harry chanced a look back. In the dispersing audience, lingered three grim faces. One was a boy – or man, holding a little blond angel against his chest. The girl was crying as she reverently sent looks of worry at the girl beside him. The last face belonged to a boy who looked as if someone had just torn his heart from his body.

Something told him that whatever they were 'tributes' for, it wasn't for any festival. Strangely enough, this discovery did not shake Harry as his eyes looked at the path before him.

Harry decided that if he could survive going against dangerous dragons, possessive mermaids, and Professor Snape's classes...he was fairly confident that he could as well pull through this one.

xxx

He wasn't one to contemplate too much on his own; he preferred to keep that habit happening during school, but Cedric couldn't help it. He paced the random, vacant room he was placed in so suddenly. Playing by ear, he could tell that the other girl that stepped up on the platform beside him was hosting some visitors – crying, wailing visitors.

This observation alone did not comfort Cedric. What kind of sick games was he being a 'tribute' in, that would require one's family to burst into tears? Surely, these games weren't some sick sport...were they? Shaking his head at this newest thought, Cedric sat on one of the chairs in the room. He couldn't afford the luxury of worrying now, all he had to do was find the others and get out of the world they were in.

'Sides, where is my wand? He wondered. He was quite sure he had it throughout the whole ceremony earlier. Maybe he had dropped it in the crowd? Had he?

His thinking stopped there as an old man entered the room. He was dressed in haggard clothing; clad in a tattered overcoat and equipped with a decaying cane. The man reminded him of the wizards he passed in Diagon Alley's dark corners.

"Can I help you, sir?" asked Cedric. He, for one, did not expect to receive any visitors at all; he had no relatives nor friends in this place. Cedric was a magical being – not some muggle trapped in a twisted world.

The man did not answer him. Instead, he reached into his pocket and produced a familiar looking wand. Jumping to his feet, Cedric walked closer to him to get a closer inspection of it.

"W-where did you find this?" he questioned, taking his wand. It became warm in his hand as a familiar sensation flowed through him. Perhaps the feeling was to be a reminder of what he was – that he didn't belong here.

Cedric looked up, about to thank the man for his kindness, but realized he was once again alone. Not only that, but the sobbing had quieted down and the other room was as quiet as his.

A soft knock echoed throughout the room.

"Come in?" said Cedric, hesitantly.

The door opened, revealing the girl from before. Naturally, Cedric smiled in greeting. As tributes from the same place, or District, as the locals called it, he thought that it would be best if he got along with his new teammate. And so, he made a note to never forget her face.

That won't be so hard, Cedric thought. For the blazing red hair and the foxy-like features, she would be hard face to forget.

xxx

Fleur was sick. She was sick and disgusted. How could people watch kids fight for their lives? What kind of entertainment was that? Fleur frowned as she stopped pacing and sat down on a couch. Her arms wrapped around her lithe form as she stared out the window; buildings flashed before her eyes, and she shut them tightly. The scenery wasn't helping.

"Well hello, there." a new voice greeted them.

Krum stopped looking at Fleur and stared at a spunky dressed woman. His eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms across his broad chest. "Vat are you doing 'ere?" he snarled. He too, was disgusted with the information he and Fleur had acquired through that strange lady's speech.

The woman smirked as she leaned against the doorway, a flash of light momentarily blinding the two. "Oh come now, don't tell me you don't recognize me?" she said.

Fleur frowned and shook her head at the same time Krum did. The woman frowned as her playful aura disappeared. Her hand reappeared again, and Fleur's eyes widened as Krum scowled.

"Now that is insulting." she said, aiming at one of them.

The two foreign tributes barely had time to react before Fleur screamed bloody murder whilst Krum's face darkened ever more.