Chapter Four

Katniss was right. Almost one minute after she left, Harry, Ron, and Hermione saw three men wearing white jumpsuits with chest protectors and helmets approached them.

"Excuse me. Where do you three think you are headed?"

Ron, Harry, and Hermione glanced at each other nervously.

"Um, the square, sir. For the, um, r-reaping," said Hermione.

One of the men looked at them for a moment, almost trying to look deep into their thoughts to see if they were telling the truth.

"Very well. Proceed," and the three men walked away.

"Whew," said Ron. "Okay, this place is really creeping me out. Let's just go."

"I wish we could, Ronald, but I'm afraid it is too late. We can't disapparate – there are too many people around us now. And we can't just walk out – those men will surly catch us."

"Well then what do you suppose we do?" Ron asked.

"The only thing we can do: go to this reaping and wait for the people to clear out. Then we go back to the woods as planned."

The three of them walked to the town square, now overflowing with people. At the front of the square was a large grey building that said Hall of Justice on the front and a stage. The area where all of the people were standing was roped off into different sections. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had no idea what they were supposed to do. Then, another one of the men dressed in white came up to them and said, "Have you three signed in yet?"

"Um, no sir," Hermione responded.

"Well, get a move on. The Reaping will be starting any minute," and the man pushed them over to a table where they signed in as residents of District Twelve. Then, they realized that the roped sections had to do with the ages of the children. They eventually found the area of eighteen year olds and waited. It wasn't long until a middle aged man stepped up to a podium on the stage. He started talking about the history of Panem. There were once thirteen districts, but district thirteen decided that they didn't want the Capitol in charge of them, so they rebelled. The Capitol, being as strong and powerful as it was, destroyed district thirteen. Those were they "Dark Days." That was when the Hunger Games was created. In order for the remaining districts to remember the fate of district thirteen and to keep them from rebelling again, each year one boy and girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen are forced to fight to the death in an arena on live television until one remains.

"This is just horrific," Hermione whispered to Ron and Harry as the man paused.

"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks," he began again. Then, he read the names of the previous Hunger Games winners. For district twelve, the was only one: Haymitch Abernathy. Just as his name was called, a man, obviously drunk, stumbled onto the stage and sat down in an empty chair.

"That must be Haymitch," Ron said.

Haymitch then tried to give the woman sitting next to him a hug, but she pushed him away and trieed to fix her wig that he had messed up.

The lady with very pink hair, a green suit, and an overly enthusiastic personality walked up to the podium.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" she said. "Ladies first." She walked over to a bowl full of little pieces of paper. She reached her hand in, fished around for a moment, and then pulled one out. When she got back to the podium she read the name.

"Primrose Everdeen."

A little girl, about twelve or thirteen years old slowly made her way out of the crowd of people and to the stage.

"Prim! Prim!" another voice from within the crowd started screaming for the little girl. Everyone immediately made a path for whoever was yelling, and she ran up to the little girl and pushed her being herself.

"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!" the older girl shouted.

Everyone was silent. A few small gasps could be heard from a few people.

"Lovely!" said the lady on stage. "But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um . . . ."

"What does it matter?" the middle aged man said to her.

The little girl, Primrose, was screaming her head off.

"No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" she kept saying.

"Prim, let go," the other girl, Katniss, said. Prim didn'tt let go. She just kept tugging on Katniss' dress, screaming and crying.

"Let go!" Katniss said a little harsher. A young man came to the stage and pulled Prim away from Katniss. He whispered something to her, and then Katniss walked up onto the stage. Harry, Ron, and Hermione realized that she was the girl they had met on their way to the woods.

"Well, Bravo! That's the spirit of the Games!" the pink-haired lady said. "What's your name?"

"Katniss Everdeen." It was obvious that Katniss was a little shook up after what happened with the little girl, but she was trying hard to hold back her emotions.

"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we?" The pink-haired lady said again. "Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!"

Nobody clapped. Nobody breathed. Everyone stood in completely silence staring up at Katniss Everdeen. Then, all at once, everyone took their three middle fingers, pressed them to their lips, and held them out towards her. That was when Haymitch interrupted.

"Look at her. Look at this one! I like her! Lots of . . . spunk! More than you! More than you!" he said pointing at the audience and then at the cameras that were recording the event. Then, Haymitch fell off the stage, unconscious. The pink-haired lady took one disgusting look at him and continued.

"What an exciting day! But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" She walked over to another bowl with more paper slips in it. She reached her hand in and pulled one out.

"Peeta Mellark!" she said to the crowd. A young man with blond hair and a well-build body walked up on the stage and joined Katniss and the pink-haired lady. Nobody said anything; nothing like what Katniss did for her little sister. Then, Katniss and Peeta shook hands and the pink-haired lady said, "I give you the tributes of district twelve!"

The same middle aged man came up to the podium and began to talk again, but before he could say much, the pink-haired lady stopped him.

"Excuse me, Mr. Mayor. We seem to have a problem."

"Excuse me?" the mayor said. "What is it?"

"Well, there seems to be two more names on these two slips of paper. Take a look."

The mayor took the two slips of paper that had Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark on them and turned them over. He looked at the lady and then out to the audience, complete shock and confusion covering his face. Then he read the two names.

"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."