Hermione tried to reconcile what she'd been seeing. How she'd been shut out from the very secretive conversation of those she thought to be her closest friends. If Harry-
She suppressed a sigh. Harry had always been the most secretive of any of them. And besides, it was foolish to imagine what he'd be like now, when there were so many years in between his death and now. For all she knew, he could have been a totally different person.
These games were, in a sick way, in his honor. But what had he been thinking, joining that rebellion with such vigor? She had woken and found him gone after he'd promised he wouldn't go. She told Dumbledore right away, but oh, it was too late. She'd known it in her bones, from the way that they just seemed to fall out of place and she was collapsing on the floor of the common room.
It was 3am and no one comforted her then; not until the morning when she was still there, and Dumbledore came back with the gravest look on his face. She had known, she had known. She knew that he would be caught, but she had simply then wished for a simple death. Her wish left hanging in the air.
She hadn't watched when the told her to. She looked when the Death Eaters turned her way, but at all other times she averted her eyes to the floor praying to every god she had ever heard of. If no one participated, they couldn't do much than pick them off but what looked like forces of nature, could they? But if the did that too much, they'd loose public opinion. Hermione was sure it wasn't just 'something' that snapped in Cho's mind. She was near positive that it was the doings of spell casters, and she was the closest and easiest to hit. She would be known now, though, as such horrid nicknames like 'Cho the Bloody' or 'Chilling Cho' for the bloodshed. She would become a phantom that haunted children's beds. She would be described as having long black hair that moved without wind, her hands dripping eternally with blood, her lips rouged from organs of humans, and a big hole from a spear where her heart should have been. That's how she went; a Hufflepuff threw a spear through her back, but it was an impeccable shot.
If they had known the Cho Hermione knew at school, those bedtimes scares would seen like the worst insult one could lay. Cho was ever smart, ever beautiful, and ever kind. It wasn't right that she was the result of trauma, lack of sleep, and some sort of stunner to the brain. If there wasn't any action, would that be her, Hermione pondered?
Of course there would be. There had been little problem with moving fourth the remainder of the games. Once they realized that if they didn't fight for their lives, it would be their lives. Secretly, everyone just wanted to live. They didn't want the fame or the money that came after, or the life of security from evils, they just wanted to see the next bloody sunrise. Friends turned to killers, and those she had thought to be upright people did what they did to survive. She always tried to avoid watching.
She opened the loo door, and stepped outside. People were beginning to mingle about the cabins, but, not surprisingly, there were not Slytherins to be found. It was better that way. Justin was the first person she saw, and she tapped his shoulder.
"How long until we arrive?" She asked. Justin turned with a jump, eyeing her warily. There was a change happening already; like he believed her to pull out a knife and kill him there.
"Two or so hours." He said, never blinking. She rolled her eyes.
"Thanks Justin," She said with a hard edge, if as to remind him the games hadn't started yet. Besides, she had no intention to kill him. She had no intention to kill anyone. So far, no female had won the games, but there was a general lack of them as it was. She reckoned if she lay low and waited for everyone to kill themselves while Hermione sat safe under the ground or in a tree, she should have enough sanity to just kill one or two when the time came. If she killed anymore, she wouldn't leave as Hermione.
"Everyone! Dinner in the farthest hall. Please report at once!" Umbridge's voice sang through the train, and she heard moans.
"What happens if we don't go?" Lavender asked angrily, stepping out of her compartment. No one answered, but Hermione thought she knew the reply, if one had.
"It's just food. There wouldn't be a game if they poisoned us all before it even started." Hermione reasoned. Ron had slammed the door open.
"You so sure? What if I'm not hungry?" He said with a sniffle.
"Ronald Weasley, not hungry. Yeah, that will be the day." Ernie scoffed, and Ron began to blush. His stomach betrayed his façade.
The overhead boomed again, "Your presence is firmly required." It was as if she could hear them, and Ron sighed, and the conversation was finished about if he had to go or not. Luna was beckoned from the area, and Seamus followed soon behind. Hermione darted back into her room, because she didn't want to be stuck near her 'friends', but realized she really had no reason to go back to her compartment, so waddled around like a fool with hopes no one saw.
She realized too late that she had not thought it through; she was the last one into the food area. Everyone was already sitting, or in the process, meaning there were no seats left sans one. It could have been worse, she reckoned. She could have been by Pansy, but Pansy cornered herself at the edge of the table with her only companion to be Blaise. No; Hermione found herself in between Seamus Finnigan and Daphne Greengrass.
The meal was delicious, even without a taste. Hermione's mouth watered at the delicate chocolate things, the steaming potatoes, and the savory looking meats. But no one touched the food yet; everyone was eyeing it and each other with looks of uncertainty.
"Well, it's not like it's bloody poisoned!" Seamus announced, and was the first to reach forward for the chicken legs, "Want some, Hermione?"
Oh, now he was speaking to her? She maintained ice in her voice as she replied. "Yes." There was a look of surprise, probably faux, across his face at her tone, but she saw him bit his lip to keep from responding all the same.
He was the catalyst, and next Justin was grappling for the potatoes, Ron for the steak, and even Draco looked ravenous as he pushed up his suit to take some bread rolls and butter.
"This is the feast, isn't it?" Luna asked from the farthest possible seat from Pansy, which Hermione much envied. Even though there were four people in between her and the devilish girl, the Slytherin's sneers and looks were enough to make Hermione wish she had her wand. She knew a few hexes from Ginny that would make Pansy think twice before laughing at everything that was said.
"So do they really expect us to all sit here nicely without murdering someone?" Pike asked, a hard edge to his voice. He had hardly touched his food.
"Nonsense. This is just to make us feel special before the games. They aren't expecting fighting yet. Not where they can't enhance it and show it to everyone." There was a sneer beneath his haughty reply, which was right, as Fred had no doubt described the whole affair to his brother long before now.
"Voldemort wouldn't want us fighting, not yet." Draco agreed, his usual voice lost. It sounded small. He shook his head, looking up, and catching Hermione's eye before he moved on, "Just enjoy it now. Merlin knows when we'll have such luxuries again."
"Must be hard for you, though." Wayne was shivering even as he dared say anything against Draco, but this had made everyone on the same level, "I mean, this is what a Malfoy must eat like everyday."
Draco didn't answer, although Hermione noted his jaw twitched with an unsaid reply. He proceeded to shove his food around a little, before he sighed, "Being a pureblood isn't the lap of luxury you think it is."
Before anyone could ask, Umbridge opened the sliding door and waltzed in, in whole new pink attire, and clapped her hands. "Well isn't this just lovely and so generous! I hope you're all finding this food to be so very much to your liking. You all deserve it." The glint in her eyes went unmissed by no one. There was no silence at her words, a firm resolve that no one speak to the dragon lady in kitten heels.
Well, except for Pansy.
"So, we get to the place tonight, right. The games begin tonight, right?" There was an anxious ring to her words, and one hand gripped the table and the other a harmless butter knife that now looked very deadly. The unmistakable excitement for a kill sat suspended over their heads. Umbridge looked horrified.
"Merlin no! Do you think we'd send you out like this? Underdressed, underfed, and untrained?"
Well, that's what they'd done with Harry, of course. Silly Hermione, she reminded with acerbic, that had been punishment. This was just a game.
"No, no! That's actually why I had you all meet here. I need to discuss the next few days for all of you, so there's no confusion." She shot Pansy a dark look.
"We'll be arriving to the area where you'll be living in about two hours. There you will each get a room, and go straight to bed. In the morning, the stylists will meet with you to make you the best you for all the appearances. Then, you will begin training hard for five days. At the end of those five days, there will be a live interview with Rita Skeeter. The next day, you'll be in the area!" She said it all with a flourish, in the way one talked excitedly about the tour of America they would be attending or the trip to the beach. It was most certainly neither.
Umbridge just held her happy smile for a little, but when no one spoke, a look like spilled milk crossed her face. "Well, enjoy." She said curtly, clearly irritated at the lack of enthusiasm.
"I have an idea," Pike grumbled, "Let's put her and all the others who love the games in it. Then they could really love it." He hissed.
"She wouldn't last a day. None would." Draco scoffed in reply.
"Exactly." Susan spoke up in agreement, "What ever happened to the children are the future campaign? There won't be children left!" She cried.
"This is ridiculous." Hermione got up abruptly, breathing hard under her breath. She wasn't in the mood to stick around, and her appetite was non existent.
"Are you leaving? Are you allowed to?" Duke asked with open jaws.
"I doubt it." Draco replied.
"No one asked you, Malfoy." Hermione retorted with anger.
"Technically, his question second question could have been directed at anyone." Draco's reply was smooth like silk, which made her blood broil.
"Sit down, lass. Enjoy the food while it's here." Seamus wound his fingers in hers in a friendly way, encouraging her to sit back down. Hermione glared at him.
"Now I'm your friend?" She asked, jerking her hand away from his, her words only for him to hear.
"What?" He asked, and Hermione felt everyone looking at her.
"If you leave, we may get in trouble." Hannah said, and there was a warning her in eyes, for Hermione's sake. Hermione bit her lip.
"Fine. I'll stay." She sat down again. Seamus still looked confused, and Hermione saw him trying to process her words. Let him wonder, then. If he didn't know, then he should be confused.
The remainder of the dinner, there was light and tense talk amongst the children, and Hermione would have liked to say the food was good, had she eaten more than a couple bites. She firmly refused to talk to Seamus, who was looking at her with a hurt sort of look on his face.
Finally, everyone began to leave when the meal was over, and the doors were opened. Hermione realized they must have been locked, so even if she had tried to leave, she would have been embarrassed. Hannah must have known, somehow. That girl was perceptive. Hermione was beginning to want to ally with her more and more.
It was not long before they reached their hotel rooms. They were shoved off the train and herded through a passage of underground ways that must have been extensions of the Ministry, until they came to a wide-open indoor hotel front.
"This is where you will be doing everything for the next week. Training is in the lowest floor, and we have a section just for all of you, so you don't disturb other guests and journalists aren't clawing for interviews and such. The rules are strict about going outside of our boundaries."
"There are many splendid rooms for all of you to be put into, and to be fair, you will pick from this bag." She was pulling a satchel from her over-sized purse, and Hermione wondered if she'd ever used an undetectable extension charm. No, Umbridge wasn't smart enough for that.
Umbridge just sort of buzzed around, shoving the bag of jingling keys in people's faces, seemingly arbitrary. Hermione was, though, the second to last one to pick, so maybe it wasn't quite so random. She pulled the key from the bag, as there was only two she deliberated for more than usual on which to pull, and saw a number 12 on the handle.
"Everyone will have a partner with the same number, you two will be sharing a room. Don't fret, there are different bedrooms, but the rest of the space is shared." She said, to lull confusion that Hermione heard about her when people began sharing keys.
"What?" Came the shriek of a girl that could only be Pansy, "I am NOT sleeping in the same vicinity as a Hufflepuff!" She glared daggers at Susan Bones, who seemed to shrink under the gaze. When she turned angrily around, the look that Susan reciprocated seemed to convey the shared sediments.
"Well, unless you can find a willing person to trade, that is out of my hands. But be warned, Parkinson, if there are any pre-mature deaths- 'accidents' or not before the games begin, the consequences may be…severe." The direct threat made Pansy snap her teeth in frustration. As it turned out; no one wanted to sleep in the same housing situation with the dragon girl.
Hermione could think of only a handful of people she would not mind sharing with; Hannah and Ernie for their obvious ally connections, and a couple others that she could altogether ignore successfully that wouldn't be much of a bother.
It seemed within a few short moments, everyone had gathered in their pairs. Hermione turned in a circle to find a lone teenager, who hadn't yet been paired. She spun right into Seamus.
"Number 12?" He asked, clinking his eyes in his own fingers.
Bugger. Umbridge sized upon them, at the sound of the number.
"Oh!" Her face held fake enthusiasm, "You two are lucky, and you got the suite!" Other people looked up, some with jealousy, others with mirth.
"Oh, lucky us." Hermione grumbled. Maybe there was enough room to put her far away from Seamus in the suite.
"Follow me now, I'm sure you all know your partners and will be respectable and civil to one another, correct?" There some half-hearted agrees, and one very annoyed huff from Pansy.
Umbridge shoved all 24 students onto one larger than normal elevator that was obnoxiously packed all the same. Pairs got off at each number, and Hermione felt time dragging on to reach the 12th floor. Soon, it was just the three of them left- Seamus, Umbridge, and Hermione. She could not imagine a more awkward situation. Well, if it had been Ron instead of Seamus that may have been worse. Hermione might be a screaming match with him at this point. He, luckily, got off at the second floor so Hermione didn't accidently set him on fire with her glare of death.
The ding of the elevator pulled Hermione from her thoughts, and she and Seamus were unceremoniously pushed into the suite. "Wake up is sharply at 10 am tomorrow, with a light breakfast down on floor one. This is where I leave all of you until before the games. New supervisors are already here, and will know if anything naughty happens." Umbridge didn't sound all that disappointed to be rid. Hermione wondered what constituted as 'naughty'. They had never been given a defined list. Did they mean naughty as attempting to sneak away, killing an opponent, or something sexual? She looked at Seamus, and wanted to barf at the latter.
The suite was massive and beautiful. It looked like something futuristic magazine or book. It was sleek and modern, with windows on all sides looking out over London. They must be higher up than she had originally thought, because the view was stunning.
She turned sharply, and saw their bags magically appear in their rooms. She had been worrying about what she'd wear to bed. She was tired, and even though even now she could see a kitchen and a hot tub, she was too exhausted to explore anymore. She picked up her suitcase.
"Well, goodnight Seamus." Her words were clipped.
"Wait! Hermione, somethin' is still buggin' me. 'Bout what ye said on the train."
"If you still haven't figured it out, then I don't know if you deserve to be told!" Hermione sniffed, a new wave of disappointment washing over her.
"Wha-,"
"The damn secret meetings on the train. You slammed a door in my face. Am I not good enough to be your ally? Do you think I'm weak? Worse off than crazy Luna Lovegood?" She spat, and spun sharply on her heels.
"No! Hermione, it's not like that." He tried to argue, but Hermione was in a bad mood.
"Goodnight Seamus. I'll see you in the morning." With that she promptly slammed the door on him, and after changing, fell into bed. Her sleep was dreamless.