DISTRICT 7
Oliver : Alban
The Reaping
The second Alban saw the twins he knew he'd have to volunteer. Kind of stupidly, he'd hoped the spectacle was just something that would happen; something that would leave him and the rest of them alone until much, much later.
Of course, he'd tied his luck with Harry's, and this was the boy who had, over the course of their time together, managed to become the youngest seeker ever, defeated a troll, did something (he'd never quite figured out what) to get rid of Quirrell, got infamous for his ability to talk to snakes, defeated Slytherin's monster, and did something (he'd never quite figured out what) to get rid of Lockhart.
And that wasn't even mentioning what had happened after Oliver graduated.
So, in hindsight, it was obvious what would happen, and his refusal to acknowledge it just meant that he had less time to say goodbye.
This was hammered home when the screen showed Fred and George. As if that weren't clear enough, there was Neville from District 11, Luna from District 10, Katie from District 9, and Alicia from District 8.
So, when Poppy Porter (District 7's current escort) began prattling her own 'thanks to the Capitol speech' Oliver knew what he had to do.
He felt sick.
He couldn't swallow, could barely breath.
He palms felt sweaty, but his mouth was completely dry.
He turned, looking back past the twelve and eleven-year-olds to see his mother and father standing there, locked together in a frightful gripped as they hoped desperately that he wasn't picked.
They saw him looking and smiled, trying to seem more hopeful than they actually were.
Alban didn't smile back.
He watched, teary-eyed, as they slowly realized what he meant to do. As they tried desperately to understand why, and failed utterly at even coming close.
As they began to cry well before even the twelve-year-old was selected, already mourning his inexplicable decision and the result that would doubtless come from it.
And then he turned back around and, as the escort called out for any thirteen-year-old volunteers, he raised his hand.
After this, he knew, would come his perhaps last time to spend with his parents. He would not be able to explain his decision to them, so he'd already decided not to try. Instead he would hug them, and thank them, and help them cope.
And, because he didn't want them to give up entirely, he would give them one more message:
Never count out 13.