"Tears are the material out of which Heaven weaves its brightest rainbow."

F.B. Mayer

I collapsed on my crimson and gold bed after a long, tiring day of training. The cushions felt good and comforting against my sore muscles. I was too tired to even get up and go take a shower. Somehow I did, though, and when I was in pajamas and had my teeth brushed, I laid down once more. Curling up in the bed sheets, I reviewed the events of the day, like I always did. Training today had been successful. I had gotten better with a sword, learned new survival tips, and –the part that my mind had been replaying over and over again- I had perfected archery.

For some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about that. When Malfoy's skin touched mine, it had felt like I had been burned, but not at all in a bad way. It was in a way that kept me longing for more.

But that was impossible. I mean, this is Malfoy we're talking about. Surely, he couldn't stand touching me. And even if he had felt that burning magnetism, we couldn't be together even if we wanted to. Heck, I couldn't be with Harry if I wanted to. It wouldn't turn out well. One of us would have to hurt each other eventually.

We'd all get hurt eventually. More hurt then we already were.

The second week of training wasn't that good for me. I found myself crying the whole night, only getting a couple hours of sleep. During training hours, I would only visit a few stations, less than usual. Now, it was Friday again and the Games were to start next week Wednesday. Just great. I'd be lucky to stay in for a few seconds. At dinner, Professor McGonagall came in, with papers in hand. Her face was tired, weary, and her pointy hat was sagging somewhat. We all stopped our eating to face her, where she stood at the front of the room.

"Evening, students," she addressed us with a warm smile. "I'm here tonight to inform all of you that tomorrow you must be awake by 7 AM. By 7:15, you will be taken to your personal design team. You will be given a - ahem - new look. They will have you ready with your costume and makeup by 10:30. At 11:00 you will have an interview with Daily Prophet reporters which will be magically broadcasted all over the wizarding world. Clear?" Everyone nodded.

"Professor?" Harry asked, requesting her attention.

"Yes, Potter?"

"What's the interview about?"

"Why, your views on the Games, things like that."

"Oh," Harry said, nodding. Professor McGonagall exited the room without another word, leaving us speechless. 7:00? That meant I'd probably have 1 hour of sleep, counting on how long it would take me to fall asleep. "Bet that's going to be brutal," Harry muttered to me. I nodded in response, gulping down my glass of water. All of a sudden I felt warm, overwhelmed, like someone had raised the temperature in the room. Maybe it was because I had just been reminded that this is all real, and I'll be fighting for my life in just a few days.

"I'm going to uh, catch up on my sleep," I muttered to Harry, pushing my chair back from the table and standing up. "G'night, Harry."

"Good night, Hermione." I could feel his concerned gaze burning into the back of my head. I exited the large dining room, and climbed up the large marble staircase. The Gryffindor common room was empty, and I sighed gratefully as I fell onto my plush bed, sinking into dreams about silver eyed boys.

The next morning I woke around 6:45. Crap, I thought. I've got to get ready. I took a quick shower and brushed through my thick hair, pulling on jeans and a plain black tank top. Exactly at 7:15, a light knock sounded on my door. I opened it cautiously. A young woman, possibly 20, stood there, beaming excitedly. She had short, black hair that flared in every direction, and heavy, extravagant makeup, and wore an orange dress. She was very cute looking.

"Hi!" she greeted me, linking an arm through mine. She started to walk me out of my room. I noticed Harry being escorted by another pretty looking girl. He winked at me and I smiled. "I'm Chloe. You're Hermione, yes?" I nodded. Her smile grew wider. "Oh, this will be so much fun!" I wanted to remove my arm from hers then. Fun? They were dressing us days before we would be fighting for our lives. And in whatever ridiculous task they had conjured up, it wouldn't matter how our hair looked. I was quiet the whole way as Chloe led me down the marble stairs and down the right hallway. I had never been through here before. It led to a very grand, fancy sitting room, with one door on the opposite side. Chloe led me through that door. This door led to four more doors, each color coated, of course. I was brought through the crimson door, which of course led to four more doors. Chloe opened the first door on the left and beckoned me to go inside. I did, slowly, and found myself in a very large room. More than half the size of the Great Hall. There was a bunch of people, surrounding something I couldn't walls of the room were mirrors, and the whole backside of the room was filled with racks and racks of clothing. In the middle of the room was a stool in front of a vanity, filled with countless beauty supplies of wizarding and muggle brands. Once Chloe shut the door behind us, everyone in the room snapped to attention. The big group of people slowly parted, revealing what they had been crowding. It was a woman, who was clearly full of half veela. She was the most beautiful lady I'd ever seen. She was tall, and skinny. Her hair was purely golden, pulled to one side of her head and fastened with jewels. She wore a deep blue dress that fell to just above her thighs, revealing her impossibly long legs. Her features were sharp, pointed, and severe. She eyed me up and down, and I shifted uncomfortably. Then, her pink lips broke into a smile.

"You'll be perfect," she told me with gleaming eyes. Several people led me over to the stool in front of the vanity. I perched on the edge. "I am Anya," the lady told me. "I am your design team leader." Then, she clapped her hands twice and exclaimed something in perfect French. Immediately, three people darted to me, while the others continued busying themselves. One of the three handed me a pair of black shorts. I looked at her quizzically. She gestured for me to put them on. I sighed, glancing around nervously, and as quick as I could, I traded my jeans for the flannel shorts. Without even a word from me, they laid me on my back on a conjured table.

"Just relax," one of the three girls told me warmly. Something about her smile made me trust her, so I shut my mouth and laid back as they performed countless spells on my body, making my skin tingle and feel numb for a bit. "You may look, now, Ms. Granger," the same girl advised me. She took my hand and helped me up, spinning me around to face the mirrored wall. I gasped.

All the skin that was visible had been turned a startling, yet beautiful shade of pale. It glowed in contrast with my dark clothing and chestnut brown hair. It didn't look too much like a vampire's or too pale as if I was sick. It looked inhumanely beautiful, perfect. Anya sauntered over with a finger on her pink full lips, smiling.

"It's perfect!" she exclaimed, raising her eyebrows. "She's perfect! We'll need to start on hair, now." She shouted something in French again, and three different people came towards me, smiling. They introduced themselves as Cleo, Casie, and Cale. They all seemed very bubbly and friendly. I sat down on the stool, closing my eyes as they fussed over my hair. I could feel various products being thrown in, and spells transforming it to whatever they pleased. Usually I would be protesting and annoyed. But now, what did it really matter?

So I let them tug and pull and stick pins in and yank them out. And after an hour, which felt like 3 hours to me, they were done.

"Oh, you're beautiful!" one of them exclaimed.

"Open your eyes, take a look!" So I did. And I couldn't believe what I saw. I immediately broke into a smile. My hair had been grown out, so that it reached right above my waist now. Also, my curls had been replaced with thick waves that twisted and snared. The front of my hair had been pulled back in a complicated, intricate way, with braids and twists to connect in the back of my head, just to let the bottom half of my hair fall down my back. Gold rhinestones had been placed in random places and glowed against the brown of my hair.

"Thanks," was all I could manage. The three girls giggled and once again Anya strode over to observe. She took in every detail, sifting her long fingers through the tendrils of hair delicately. Finally, she nodded and smiled.

"It's just right. Now, go, I must do her makeup." The three girls dispersed, leaving me to face Anya nervously. She was so beautiful and keen, it made me fidgety. She conjured up a seat for herself, and sat opposite of me. "Hermione, right? May I call you Hermione? It's a lovely name."

"Oh, of course," I responded shakily.

"So, Hermione," Anya started, her smile warm and interested, "you're a Gryffindor, yes?" I nodded. "That's wonderful. Brave, they're known for. Now, I think I know some of the things you've been thinking. You probably think all this pampering is for nothing, yes?" Anya asked. I didn't response. "But darling, you're wrong. When the people of the wizarding world see how beautiful, fierce you look, they'll support you in these Games. They'll want you to win. As a result, they will become what are called sponsors. When you find yourself in need throughout the different tasks, the sponsors will be able to send in a few supplies for you. Understand?" I nodded my head once again. "Now you see why appearance is important, yes?"

"Yes, I do," I responded. Now it all donned on me.

"Well, let's get to makeup!" Anya exclaimed, standing and clapping her hands. I reassumed my position of closing my eyes and relaxing my face. Anya slapped God knows what on my face and performed charms that would doubtlessly leave me speechless if I opened my eyes. I could feel Anya tracing along the rims of my eyes with something sharp. I could feel her dusting powder onto my eyelids, inking my lips with something wet. It took forever.

"Anya?" I voiced cautiously.

"Hmm?"

"I have a question, and I think you know the answer…"

"Go for it, darling."

"Well, what if more than two people… die… in one level?" I asked slowly. Anya chuckled darkly.

"The Gamemakers –the ones who design the tasks- they won't let that happen. Plus, Avada Kedavra isn't allowed in the Games. They want to keep it to only two decreases to keep up the suspense."

"Oh," was all I could muster. That was sick. To keep up suspense? So that was it. These Games were just entertainment for the Superiors, Voldemort, and his loyal followers. They were just a way of showing that they have complete power over us, and we can't do anything but go along with it. After a very long while, it seemed Anya had finished with my makeup.

"You can open your eyes, dear," she notified me with a chuckle. I wasn't so sure if I wanted to. Would I like what I saw? I didn't know.

"Can I wait until I'm fully done?" I asked in a small voice. Anya chuckled again and performed a spell.

"Now open your eyes." I did, and all the mirrors had been blacked out. I exhaled.

"Thanks." Anya just smiled, took my hand, and pulled me to the countless racks of clothes. She led me to one certain rack that held nothing but dress after dress of different colors. Anya sifted through each dress, speculating it carefully. Finally, she came to a deep crimson dress and beamed. I couldn't get a very good look at it. She handed the dress to a young girl behind her and led us to a closet off the side of the room. The mirrors in here had been blacked out as well. The young girl handed Anya the dress and muttered something in French. Anya nodded and waved her hand dismissively.

"You don't mind changing in front of me, do you?" Anya asked me. I shook my head. Did I really have a choice? So I stripped down to my underwear, thankful I had been wearing a strapless bra already. Anya helped me into the dress. It was soft, made of silk, with layers of tulle beneath it to give it some volume. She also then handed me strappy black heels that I slipped on carefully. Then, she reversed her charm, and the mirrors reflected me.

I gasped.

Maybe we should start with the dress. It was a deep, blood red that contrasted beautifully and shockingly with my pale skin. It was strapless, and the top was cut into two points that had a dip in between that ended inches above my belly button, exposing snow white skin. The whole torso part was fitted, but then flowed out smoothly, ending right above the ground. Anya twisted me around. My back was exposed, the cut ending right above my waist.

And then my makeup. My eyes were outlined with black and my eyelids had been dusted with gold glitter, making them look bigger yet narrower. My eyelashes were full, thick, darker. My cheeks were donned with blush and my lips were as red as my dress.

And I've never said this much, but I looked beautiful. Terrifyingly beautiful. Natalie Aislinn beautiful. Slytherin beautiful. Now I knew what Anya had meant about making me look fierce, capable of winning the Games.

"Thank you," I breathed out hoarsely. "It's beautiful."

"You're beautiful, dear," Anya corrected me, sweeping me out of the closet. Everyone looked to me with admiring and accomplished faces, grinning happily. I couldn't help but grin back. "One last thing," Anya said to me. She snapped her fingers, and a young lady handed her something gold and sparkling. It was a small tiara that was shaped into golden vines laced with thorny roses. She very carefully placed it up on my head, then leaned back to examine it. She beamed, flashing sparkling white teeth. She exclaimed something in French that I knew meant perfection. "It's now 10:15. Chloe, if you would please escort her down to the arena?" That's where the interviews were being held? Wow. Chloe smiled at me and took my hand, leading me through the large room and out the door. The halls were empty as we made it through the large house. She led me outside, where the air was cool and breezy. There had been a concrete path built, leading down to the arena. I gasped for the millionth time when I saw what it had been transformed into. In the middle of the arena was a high, very high raised platform. There was a staircase leading up to the top. And surrounding the main, larger circular platform were sixteen connecting platforms, though smaller. On each platform was a plush armchair, and on the middle platform were two armchairs. Connecting the smaller platforms to the large one were concrete catwalks, supported by tall cement poles. Surrounding the arena were the usual, tall stands, that the audience would watch from. I couldn't move, even when Chloe pulled me toward the high, winding staircase.

"Don't worry, Hermione. You can't fall. There's a transparent encasing around all the platforms." That helped a bit. So I walked slowly behind her. We walked beneath the high catwalks and platforms. I felt like they would fall on me. As I climbed the staircase, Chloe held up my dress so it wouldn't drag. When we reached the top, we had emerged onto the main, middle platform. I was the last one to arrive, apparently. I took in everyone's appearance in awe. Harry looked extravagant, in a crimson suit and gold tie. His hair had been styled and done perfectly to frame his face. Also, he had lost the glasses. He beamed at me, got up from his armchair, and walked the concrete pathway to the middle platform.

"Scary, these things are. It's very high," he said. But he reached an arm out, and it connected with an invisible wall. "But it's supposedly safe." He shrugged and smiled at me again. He reached up to touch the golden tiara on my head.

"You look very beautiful Hermione," he told me, taking his hand back. I could feel myself blushing.

"Thanks Harry. You too," I said with a chuckle. I cast my gaze around. Everyone else looked absolutely beautiful as well, dressed in their House colors. Dominique was clad in a gold dress with crimson accents, Jacob had on a golden suit with a red tie. But the Slytherins looked most extraordinary. Isabella wore a black, flowing dress that had layers beneath of silver and green. Her red hair was piled up on her head, braided with emerald strips of silk. Zabini had on a dark emerald suit and black tie. Natalie Aislinn looked utterly breathtaking. Her dress was a shining silver that hugged her body perfectly, highlighting her perfect curves. Her black, pin straight hair was pulled to one side of her head, held by emerald colored jewels, similar to Anya's. She was glaring daggers at me.

But the most stunning looking of them all was Malfoy, and I couldn't deny it as much as I wanted to. He was wearing a black suit with an emerald colored tie. Though the outfit wasn't very different from his usual getup, he somehow looked different. His eyes seemed to glow more intensely than usual. His mouth was curved into his usual smirk. His hair had changed, though. It was no longer slicked back. It was combed to perfectly frame his sharp, aristocratic features, ending right before his grey eyes and perfectly disheveled. When his eyes met mine, I immediately looked away, not wanting to be caught staring at him. I let Harry lead me down the concrete path that led to my platform. I sat down nervously, smoothing out the dress. Harry pecked me on the cheek before going back to his platform.

Then I was alone with my swirling thoughts, sitting about two stories high on a concrete platform in a ball gown. I craned my neck to take a good look around. People were slowly filling the stands, and I saw a few familiar faces. No sign of Ron or other Gryffindors.

"Looking for your boyfriend, Granger?" I heard a familiar voice drawl. I swiveled my head around to face Malfoy, who was leaning against the transparent wall, his arms crossed, and his trademark smirk adorning his face. I tried my best to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor. He looked even better this close up. I stood slowly, careful not to step on the material of the dress. I arranged my face into a scowl.

"As a matter of fact, yes I am," I retorted.

"Well, sorry to rain on your parade," Malfoy started, "but he'll probably dump you the moment he sees you." I gasped.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you look like you could rip out someone's innards and drink their blood right about now," he informed me in a tone that suggested it should have been obvious. I took a step closer and narrowed my eyes.

"That's only because I'm looking at you, Malfoy," I hissed, my hands curling into fists.

"Come on, you can't have believed me," Malfoy said exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. My scowl faltered a bit.

"Excuse me?"

"Have you looked in the mirror, Granger?"

"I have, as a matter of fact," I said, sniffing.

"So, you know how incredible you look right now," Malfoy said pointedly, raising his eyebrows. My heart skipped a beat, but then I cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh, don't think I don't know what you're doing," I hissed at him. "Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer? Nice try. I'm not an idiot, Malfoy."

"Like I needed you to tell me that Granger," he scoffed. "Look, I came over here to tell-"

"I really don't care what it is," I spat. Malfoy narrowed his eyes, spun on his heel and strode away, his head held high. Like it'd really matter what he was going to tell me.

The stands were filling up now and I noticed a bunch of people in Gryffindor colors. I waved at them. I could now identify Ron, with his bright shock of red hair. He beamed at me dreamily and waved. I smiled back and settled into my arm chair. After the stands had all filled up, a man emerged onto the main platform. He had white short cropped hair and a nice, friendly face, the face of a professional politician. He was dressed in a black tuxedo and a light blue tie. He waved at the crowd and spoke, his voice magically ringing throughout the stadium without muggle contraptions like microphones.

"Good day, everyone!" he called out, clasping his hands behind his back and turning so that he could see everyone. "I am Nicholas Scholiar! I will be your hostess tonight, interviewing our 16 beautiful contestants. Aren't they beautiful?!" He immediately got on the crowd's good side, and they all shouted out responses. "OK! So, I've been informed we're starting by houses from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and then, Gryffindor. So come on over, Kirsten Cyrus!" I watched as Kirsten, clad in a yellow silk dress with a sheer layer of black on top. She took the seat opposite of Nicholas, fidgeting nervously with her hair and fingers. Nicholas fired off with the questions, some about Kirsten and some about what she thought about the Games and so on. Kirsten was very shy, only giving a few words as an answer. Finally, the Huffelpuffs had all gone, and Jane Rosen of Ravenclaw was now answering questions. She was a bit shy, but gave more insight into her answers. She seemed very plain, though. Avril Sedrid was next. She was a very open and seemingly happy girl. Finally, it came to the Slytherins. Natalie was up first. The crowd cheered and whooped for her, most of them Slytherins. She was absolutely striking. She took her seat and gave her winning smile.

"So, Natalie, how do you like Hogwarts?" Nicholas asked.

"Oh, I just love it there. It's a great environment to grow up in," she gushed, faking politeness.

"I'm sure! Now tell me, what do you like best about being a Slytherin?"

Something gleamed in Natalie's icy blue eyes before she answered. "We're all very determined and hard working. We never give up," she explained thoroughly and fervently. I half listened as the Slytherins put on fake smiles and answered politely to Nicholas. And then it was Malfoy's turn, and I was completely tuned in.

"Draco Malfoy!" Nicholas bellowed, standing and giving him a firm hand shake. Malfoy gave a big grin, and absently, my hand flew to my thudding heart. I quickly placed it back on my lap, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. No one was looking at me strangely, thank God. Actually, people were, but mostly in a dreamy way. Draco and Nicholas both took their seats then, and Nicholas fired off with the interrogations.

"So, Draco, how did your training weeks go?"

"Oh, they were great."

"What skill do you think you mastered?"

"It turned out I'm quite a natural at archery."

"Is that so? How brilliant! Now, do you think that will help you during the Games?"

"Absolutely, I've got perfect aim." Nicholas chuckled at that, and the crowd joined in.

"I'm positive you do, m'boy. Now, what do you think will be hardest for you in the Games? Hurting friends?"

"Yes, of course. But in a way, I know I have to win. So it won't be as hard as I think it will be. I'm a Slytherin, after all," Malfoy clarified, with a dark chuckle. Everyone else chuckled good naturedly.

"So, Draco, what do you think are your family's views on you being chosen?" Malfoy's eyes hardened, but his voice stayed calm.

"I think they are confident in me, that I will be able to go home to them in the end." Nicholas nodded thoughtfully.

"Now, tell us, do you have a girl to go home to as well? A handsome lad like yourself!" Nicholas exclaimed with a hearty chuckle. I snapped my head up, my ears dying to here his answer. My heart panged with jealousy, and I told myself mentally to stop being so foolish. I don't care anyways. I've got a boyfriend, no need to be jealous of some girl.

"Actually," Malfoy started, running a hand through his hair, "no, I haven't."

"Oh, no, no, no! I can see it in your eyes! Tell us who's the lucky girl!" Nicholas urged, leaning forward. It seemed the crowd was listening interestedly as well.

"Well I like her, but it's complicated. See, I can't exactly 'go home to her.'"

"Now, why would that be?" Nicholas asked, befuddled. I wasn't. I knew what he meant. He couldn't go home to her, because she was Natalie Aislinn. Malfoy sighed.

"Because, she's in the Games as well." Everyone in the crowd gasped, along with the other 16 contestants and Nicholas. But not me. Nicholas put a hand on his chest.

"Oh, that's terrible. Who is the young lady?" Malfoy was quiet for a long time, staring at his hands. Why didn't he just spit it out? If I were a boy dating Natalie Aislinn, I wouldn't hesitate to proclaim it to the world.

"She's a Gryffindor," Malfoy stated, and immediately my head swiveled to Dominique, whose head had swiveled to me with a questioning expression. It didn't seem to be her… there were no other Gryffindor girls in the Games. What was Malfoy getting at? And once he continued, my heart was pounding full force. "Her name's Hermione. Hermione Granger."

The crowd gasped, and this time, I did too.