Bloodlust 3 (The world beyond the glass)
Hi friends :) Welcome back to Bloodlust and I hope you enjoy it! Do check out the A/N at the bottom! Have fun reading (and hopefully reviewing!) xx
"You're up next." Charley said, sitting down beside me backstage in her private make-up room.
"Am I the last one?" I asked.
"You have Draco Malfoy after you, followed by Pansy Parkinson and Seamus Finnigan." I nodded, resuming the fidgeting of my fingers. He placed his hand on top of both of mine, stilling my movement. "Don't do that. It makes you look weak and we really don't want that."
The door opened and a man entered, dressed in black slacks and a black shirt. "You need to go up."
Charley jumped to his feet and held his hand out for me to take. "I'll be right there for you, Hermione." Thank god for reassuring words, right? I sighed, taking his hand and I steadied myself for a moment before walking out with him.
I had to do this. I had to do well. No, I had to do brilliant. I couldn't be snarky or sarcastic. I couldn't be rude. I had to be perfect. Basically, I couldn't be myself.
"Remember, just answer the questions he asks but at the same time try and-"
"Make an impression." I completed. "I know. I heard you the eight time you said it." I saw a look of hurt flash through his eyes and I turned to him. "I'm sorry. I'm a little on edge here, is all." And I was!
"I understand." Did he really? Was this the last day he was going to have before being plunged into a completely dark world where he was going to have to slaughter other people? Did he really understand? Did anybody who wasn't a tribute really understand?
But I nodded any way.
"Please put your hands together for Hermione Granger and though a catch phrase wasn't required, her beautician Charley Avons calls her- the Girl against Gravity!"
I was too busy shaking to bother with telling Charley off about the unnecessary catch-phrase. My hands began shaking and Charley gripped them tightly. "Be strong, Hermione. You can do this." I didn't even get the chance to respond as I was ushered on to stage and had only a second to compose myself before flashes of light and glamour were shone in my face.
"There she is, ladies and gentlemen, Hermione Granger!" The man on stage said, standing up and applauding. I took a moment to study him. He, like the lady at breakfast earlier, had 'fake' written all over his face. Make-up was layered on to his face and his blue-tinged grey hair was loose over his shoulders and he was dressed in an obscenely expensive looking suit.
I then turned my eyes over to the audience, except thanks to the bright flashing camera and stage lights, I could hardly make anything out. I could, though, see the first row of people and they happened to be my opponents. They also, I noted, were looking at my expectantly.
"Uh- could we turn down the lights?" I asked, saying this first thing that came to my mind.
The host began coughing and I knew he was trying to cover his laughter. Real funny. I was serious.
"Okay, could we please have the intensity of the lights lowered!" He exclaimed, a smile on his face. The audience chuckled and I went up to sit down beside the host. Whose name I had conveniently forgotten. I really should have listened better when Charley was speaking to me about the event.
"Jeremiah Franklin, though I doubt you didn't know already." He said, leaning forward in his seat and holding his hand out. I shook it, reminding myself that this was absolutely necessary.
"I didn't actually." I said and the audience promptly began laughing. Death-eaters laughed? Hm. Point to be noted.
"Oh, very witty." Jeremiah said, nodding.
Don't kill me Charley. "That wasn't wit. It was the truth. I was kind of not listening when Charley was briefing me."
More laughter. This wasn't so bad. I cracked a smile and so did Jeremiah.
"So tell us, Hermione. How do you feel you're going to do in the games?" He asked, leaning back in his seat.
"I don't know, to be honest. It's hard to tell. No one's really sure when they're going to be stabbed in their sleep so-" I shrugged. Honesty's the way to go.
"Do you think you can win?" He asked.
"I don't know if I can win but I sure as hell am going to try." My expression turned serious.
"What did you tell your friends when you saw them for the last time?"
"That I would try and win." I said and the audience grew completely silent. "I promised my best friends that I'd try and win."
Jeremiah placed his hand on mine and nodded. "That's a very brave promise to make. Any message for your sponsors?"
"I'm not entirely sure about the concept of sponsors but from what Charley's told me- I'm going to give you a show worth betting on." I said, swallowing hard. It was the right thing to say, I realized, when the audience burst into applause. Sponsors basically betted on you and the money would be used to get you things you needed. If the tribute the death-eater betted on wins, he gets back twice the amount of money he placed and if he loses, well, the money's gone.
"Well, we wish you all the best, Hermione. Another round of applause, audience!" He threw his arms in the air dramatically and the entire audience, save for the first row, were on their feet, clapping
"Am I supposed to be leaving?" I asked, standing up. "Because I had a trick I needed to show everyone." I can't believe I was doing this. I can't believe Charley was making me do this.
Make an impression. Make an impression. Make an impression.
"Oh, do show us." Jeremiah chuckled, stepping away from me. I took a deep breath and keeping my center, I began spinning in circles and soon the audience was gasping. My dress had begun sparkling from head to toe and my shoes had turned a shade brighter, giving the impression that I was twirling on thin air. I stopped and held my arms out to steady myself.
"That is why they call me the Girl Against Gravity." I gave a tight lipped smile before bowing and walking off stage.
Charley was waiting there to gather me in his arms and spin me around.
"Im so proud of you. You did so brilliantly that I'm willing to forgive you for not listening to me." He glared at me playfully before putting me down and I realized suddenly that I was grinning broadly.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Draco Malfoy!"
"Let's get you to the front row then, come on." Charley said, taking my hand and leading me through a corridor before ushering me out into the audience's first row. I ended up sitting beside a girl with bright red hair and green eyes. Her hair was loose over her shoulders and her dress was a pale yellow knee-length strapless. She looked much younger than me. Much, much younger, I realized, studying her openly.
"Do you know him?" She asked, turning to look at me. I looked at what she was nodding her head towards and realized that she was speaking about a certain Malfoy, who was sitting on stage in a shiny black suit and emerald green tie. There wasn't much you could do with guys' outfits, I suppose.
"Yeah, I do. He's from the same school as me." I responded.
"Hogwarts?" I nodded. "I'm from Jawstens. Calyx- I'm thirteen. Fourteen in a week." She held her hand out and I shook it.
"Hermione." I said, trying to keep the smile on my face. She was just thirteen. At her age, I was in my third year of Howgarts. So young...
"So Draco, tell us- do you think you can win?" My attention was brought back to the stage where Malfoy was seated, leaning back in his seat comfortably, a smirk plastered on to his face.
"I do, actually." He said, arrogantly but something- I couldn't quite place what- told me that he was definitely not as confident as he looked. Perhaps it was knowing him for so many years and being able to differentiate between real arrogance and fake arrogance. I wasn't entirely sure. But I knew this wasn't the confident Draco Malfoy we all knew. He was scared. But then again, who wasn't?
"Well, we wish you the best of luck, Draco." Jeremiah shook his hand and they stood up. "Do you have any tricks for us?" The man laughed.
"No, that's just Granger for you." He smirked and I could have sworn he looked right at me for a second. "Always got a trick up her sleeve. If I don't win, someone from Hogwarts definitely will." With that, he gave a curt and charming- yes, it was rather charming- bow before leaving the stage.
"Draco Malfoy, everybody! And now we have our next tribute from Hogwarts- Pansy Parkinson!"
Within moments, somebody slid into the seat beside me and I looked to my side to see Malfoy himself.
I didn't say a word, choosing instead to watch the stage. Pansy stepped out, dressed in a forest green floor length halter-neck gown, her hair held back using pins but not tied. She had a nervous smile on her face as she shook Jeremiah's hand and sat down.
"She looks too nervous." I heard Malfoy mutter beside me and I glanced at him.
"Weren't we all?"
"I wasn't." He said, not sparing me a glance.
"Weren't you though?" I challenged, looking back at the stage. "You had that arrogant, cocky expression on your face but Malfoy, you're forgetting that I've known you for nine years now. I can tell between a real expression and a fake one. You're just as scared as the rest of us."
He looked at me. "Scared as the rest of you? Afraid of the big bad Bloodlust, Granger?"
I smirked, finally looking back at him. "Not even going to deny it, Malfoy."
"Showing weakness in front of the enemy. Interesting." He said, smirking back.
"You're not the enemy any more. We know each other for too long to be enemies at Bloodlust."
"I'm not sure I follow." He shook his head.
"If we come face to face in the arena, is what I'm talking about. We won't end up being able to kill each other." I said, looking back in front. "That's why we're not enemies."
"You may not kill me, Granger, but I won't hesitate to do what it takes to win this." Despite the coldness of the words, they didn't hold enough of the Malfoy malice for me to actually believe them.
If there was one thing I inferred from today, it was that while the Hogwarts and Jawstens' tributes were somewhat okay, the Durmstrangs and Delists' tributes were going to be the ruthless, cold-hearted killers in the arena. Beauxbatons, I wasn't entirely sure yet.
Lying down on my bed, absolutely exhausted after the long day, I went over the tributes I could remember.
One that really stood out from Durmstrangs was the one and only Viktor Krum. Yes, the very same one from fourth year. His catch phrase was 'The Victor'. Appropriate. Judging from his improved physical build, he had obviously been working out for the Arena. He wasn't the only one, though. The other three men from their school- Roger Harvey, Fiere Dartmouth and Morgan Cortaroid- were all aged between seventeen and nineteen and had big, blurry builds. Or maybe that was just natural for Durmstrangs students.
The Delists' tributes consisted of two girls and two boys, not very rememberable save for their cold features that told you in an instant that they would not hesitate to kill you.
The Beauxbatons' tributes were the ones I'd name 'silent killers'. They were quiet. Soft-spoken. Dainty. Gorgeous. They all reminded me of Fleur but there was something about them- every of the four girls aged between fifteen and nineteen- that chilled me to the bone. I couldn't exactly pin-point it but I felt that they would do anything it took to win. We all would, yes, but they seemed to be the type to befriend you and then stab you in the back. Literally.
The tributes from Jawstens were the nicer group. By 'nicer' I mean that they didn't give you the impression that they wanted to kill you every time they looked your way. Perhaps that was because the youngest tribute was thirteen- Calyx- while the oldest tribute was just sixteen. The sixteen year old's name was Angela Demarco- blue eyes, short blonde hair. Then there was Diana Reed- fifteen, black long hair and piercing green eyes. There was Calyx and finally there was Kris Reed- fifteen, Diana's twin brother, black hair and dark, instead of green, eyes.
I think it was the Reeds' situation that made my heart ache the most. I understood exactly why Hayley Parkinson had moved to Hogwarts for the tribute selection- it was to avoid this. I couldn't even begin to imagine how it would be to have to be in the same Arena as your sibling- knowing that only one, if any, of you would emerge alive at the end of it.
Then there was them. The Hogwarts Tributes.
I felt tears prick the back of my eyes and blinked rapidly. It had been too long a day and yet this was just the beginning. Soon it would be the end. I would never see Ron and Harry again... Never see Ginny and Neville again. My stomach clenched uncomfortably and my lungs constricted.
I couldn't cry. I had to be strong. There was no way I could get out of this situation so it was no point crying. I had to get a grip of myself! Take one minute at a time. Take one day at a time. And see what happens.
What else could I do, right?
I sat up and threw the pillow across the room angrily. I had never felt so helpless before. I always had options. I always had some kind of control or the other. Or if nothing else, I had my magic. I had my best friends.
And here I was. With Nothing.
I got off the bed, knowing that I wasn't getting sleep tonight either. I opened the door of my room and padded out quietly dressed in a silk red nightgown that reached my knees and a thin matching robe tied loosely over it. I went down the stairs, crossed the dining area and over to the staircase that went up to a room that Seamus had told me about which was basically empty and had two walls made entirely of glass, allowing you to look out to the outside world. Somewhere we weren't allowed to go... So might as well be as close as possible.
I reached the room and froze upon seeing another figure already sitting by the window, staring out, his arms loosely hugging his knees. Malfoy. Shrugging, I went and sat down quietly a good distance away, leaning sideways against the same glass wall he was looking out of and staring out too. We were somewhere that faced muggle civilization, I observed, if the cars and buses zooming through the busy streets were any indication. It seemed awfully noisy and alive for midnight. Must be a friday. What day was it anyway? Funny how easy forgetting something as simple as dates had become lately.
"Muggle place, isn't it?" The boy next to me said and I turned to look at him. His blonde hair was in disarray, as if he had just rolled out of bed and I could see the light from outside reflect off his blue orbs.
"It is." I answered, nodding and looking back out.
"What do they call those things?" He asked and I followed his line of vision to the cars below.
"They're called Cars. The bigger ones are Buses-"
"Like the Knight bus?" He asked and I almost laughed at how curious and surprised he sounded. Almost.
"Yeah. Except it can't squeeze through narrow spaces or go at such sigh speeds. It's... For a lack of better words, normal." I said, watching a couple of people walk drunkenly down the street. I smiled slightly. I had never drank before. Never would, I guess.
There was silence for a few seconds before he spoke. "Were you serious about the enemy thing earlier?" I could feel his eyes bore into me but I didn't look at him.
"I was." I said honestly. "And I'm right. We know each other for too long."
He kept silent. Didn't even deny it. It was because I was right. We wouldn't be able to kill each other in the arena. We may have been enemies for the past eight years. But no more. This was something entirely different. This wasn't a place for petty rivalries.
"Draco?" A trembling voice sounded from the staircase. We both turned to see Pansy Parkinson standing there in a green robe similar to mine except her's was tied tightly around her frame. Malfoy was on his feet and beside her in an instant.
"I can't sleep." She said, her voice breaking as he pulled her into his arms.
Join the gang, Parkinson.
Malfoy left with Parkinson and it left me thinking. One thought was- were they an item? But the main thought was- at this point of time, she was exactly like me. We were in the same boat. No differences. We both had been torn away from everything we loved. We both were being forced into something nobody wanted to watch. Of course, the same thing applied to everyone else but I never actually thought the Slytherin princess and I would have anything in common. Who would have?
I closed my eyes and leant my head against cool glass beside me. A shiver ran down my spine and left behind goosebumps on my skin.
"You and Parkinson an item?" I asked, feeling his presence once again. I could feel one's presence. Interesting. Perhaps I did stand a chance.
Who am I kidding...
He scoffed. "Merlin, no. She's like my sister." A pause and then- "You and Finnigan an item?"
It was my turn to scoff and say, "Gods, no. He's like my brother." I could practically hear him smirk.
"Since when have we been able to carry out a civil conversation?" I wondered allowed.
"I believe it was somewhere after being forced into a game based on cold-blooded murder." He said, stretching his legs out and leaning sideways against the glass across me.
"We have no training, you know? For the games? They decided that it would be better to watch us struggle further with the weapons." I said, wondering how he felt about it. He had no idea how to handle muggle weapons and he wouldn't have an idea all the way until he got his hands on one. Who knew if he would be able to manage one after that either.
"I heard." He said. I looked at him and he looked nonchalant but his eyes reflected a whole lot of conflict.
"Don't shoot yourself with a gun." I said and had it been any other situation, it would have been funny. But I was serious. He'd probably shoot himself while trying to figure out how to work a pistol. For all we knew, that's how half the pureblood tributes would end up dying. Offing themselves.
I had probably never been happier because of my muggle upbringing. I knew how to work a bow and arrow with quite a bit of skill and I knew how guns worked thanks to movies.
"A gun?" He asked, his eyes connecting with mine.
"They're these black weapons that have a little arched trigger and it's basically two thick sections joined together at one end." I said, unsure how to describe it. With my description, though, he'd probably know one when he sees one.
"Right. I have no idea what you're talking about but thanks for the heads up." He said.
"I'm going to go and try to get some sleep." I said, standing up and righting my robes. I saw him look me up and down and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Better Malfoy giving me a once over than some other arrogant, snarky pureblood, I guess.
Ha. I never thought I'd say that in my life. Malfoy had always been THE arrogant, snarky pureblood.
"I probably should too." He said, standing up. We both took one last, longing look at the world beyond the glass before heading down the stairs, him a few steps behind me. Just before we went our different ways, he held his hand out.
I put my hand in his and shook it. "Good luck, Malfoy."
"You too, Granger. May the best one win."
Okay so that's done! I know there wasn't much of a description of the other tributes but you'll get to know the relevant ones as the story moves on. So there was a bit of Dramione in this one though not full-on yet and considering its going to be more war-like, there won't be any fluff so don't expect it :P With the next chapter comes entering the arena and the first few deaths. So do look out for the update though I'm not too sure when I'll have it up.
Thanks for your patience! Do review pleaseeeeeee! I'd love for you to do so and so would that sweet little box down there (;
Love always,
FeltonLewis xx
Ps: The idea for the sponsors betting thing was from Elleinad on hpff- thank you! :)