Chapter 1. (Katniss' point of view)

I woke up with a stinking head ache. Did Clove come back and finish her job? Sure felt like it. Clutching my forehead in one hand, I rolled onto my back and groaned. I'd never had alcohol, we didn't get that privilege in district twelve, but this must have been what a hangover felt like. Think, Katniss. What was the last thing you remember? being on the train back home after the games. I had nearly killed Peeta and I by eating nightlock. That was the last I remembered. Peeta! I had to see if He was ok! Calm down. He's probably in his bed in the victors village.

A cat hissed. Shut up, Buttercup! No-one likes you! I swear, I'll try and drown you in stream again!

But when I opened my eyes - and the blur sharpened into focus - I noticed that it wasn't Buttercup. Yeah, sure, they were both pudgy ginger cats with faces at looked like had been smashed in with a pipe, but this one didn't feel like Butt. For one, this cat had blue eyes, whereas Butt had vomit yellow. What did Prim see in that ugly excuse for a cat? Why did I even bring it home for her? I should've brought home another goat instead of a vile creature that only consumes? Because I was an idiot.

A small tag was tied around the animals neck, so I pulled on a silky edge of ribbon to release it. A small piece of parchment fluttered from the red bow and settled on my noise. With a huffed sigh, I blew the off-white paper away from my nose.

It flew around in the air and I watched, with the cat, as it landed on my stomach. Carefully, I unrolled the parchment and read the contents aloud.

"Crookshanks." It said. "So you're called Crookshanks, eh? From the two minutes we've spent together, you're much nicer than Butt." Crookshanks mewed at me and rubbed its face on my hand. "Seriously, if you were like Butt, I would be throwing chairs at you." Smiling, I scratched behind Crooks ear. I wanted to say she... She purred in delight and ran a sloppy, sand paper-like tongue along my nuckles.

Now that I thought about it, where was I? The walls around me were warm colours of red, gold, yellow and orange. Nothing like the hub or my house. Maybe I was in the office room. in the victors village.

Finding some hidden force, I sat up as slowly as I could and groaned at the throbbing in my brain. The first thing that caught my eye was a wall hanging. Grodgy foot steps slugged me across the large room full of books and towards the picture. So pretty. I outstretched a tired and aching arm and brushed my fingers along the stitch work. It was of a majestic lion roaring on its hind legs. And in bold, proudletters underneath is, 'Gryffindor.'