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Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and places from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by JK Rowling and the Hunger Games universe, which is trademarked by Suzanne Collins. However, all plots are my own and are in no way endorsed by JK Rowling, Suzanne Collins, or anyone affiliated with the Harry Potter or Hunger Games universes.
Chapter 1: District 7
Harry awoke to the sound of his Aunt Petunia screaming at him through the kitchen window.
"Harry Potter, you get out of that tree and into the kitchen to start making breakfast this instant or I will send Dudley up there to push you off," she yelled.
Harry grumbled and rolled over, blearily wiping the sleep from his eyes and reaching for his glasses, which must have fallen off at some point in the night. Harry hadn't meant to fall asleep in the treehouse. He'd figured he'd stay until his aunt and uncle fell asleep, and then he would sneak back into the house before they realized he was missing. Unfortunately, it seemed that Harry had been more tired than he'd thought, because now he had a stiff back and marks all over his face from the wooden floor planks he'd been lying on.
Reluctantly, Harry got up, climbed down the ladder to the ground, and entered the house to make breakfast for his family, though family may have been a stretch of the word in this context. After Harry's parents died in a lumber-chopping accident, he'd been forced to move in with his aunt and uncle. Petunia and Vernon were among District 7's wealthier people, and they did not at all enjoy having Harry around, as he was the son of a couple of lumberjacks and had therefore been deemed 'unworthy' of their affections. Instead, all their attention was devoted to their only son, Dudley, who was currently celebrating his nineteenth birthday.
"Just cook the breakfast and try not to burn anything," Petunia ordered Harry when he arrived in the kitchen. "I want everything to be perfect for my Dudley's special day."
At that moment, Dudley entered the room and Petunia ran off to give him a birthday hug, leaving Harry alone in the kitchen. Though every one of Dudley's birthdays had been over-celebrated throughout his lifetime, this birthday was especially exciting. Now that Dudley was nineteen, his name would no longer be in the Reaping ball and never again would he live in fear of being chosen to die in the Hunger Games.
"What shall we do to celebrate, hmm?" Harry heard Vernon ask through the kitchen door. "Perhaps you could invite all your friends over for a party? Or we could have a special dinner?"
"I want both," Dudley said obnoxiously. Harry rolled his eyes. It wasn't enough that the Dursleys were one of the wealthiest families in the district, but whenever they had the opportunity they loved to flaunt that fact in the rest of the district's residents' faces.
"Hurry up!" Vernon called from the dining room, where the Dursleys were all waiting impatiently for their breakfast. "Where's my coffee, boy?"
"Coming, Uncle Vernon!" Harry called back, hastily running to turn on the coffee machine, which he'd forgotten to do when he'd entered the kitchen. As he waited for the coffee to be ready, he scoffed at how frivolous an amenity it was. Apart from the mayor, Harry couldn't think of another person in all of district 7 that had a coffee maker. Things like that were for the rich people of the Capitol.
"What's taking so long?" Vernon called to Harry, sounding more and more frustrated by the second.
"I'm coming!" Harry cried, grabbing the coffee pot out of the machine frantically, even though there was still coffee dripping down from above. He grabbed a mug out of the cupboard and poured the coffee in as fast as possible before hurrying out to the dining room with it and placing it in front of his uncle.
"Took you long enough," Vernon grumbled when the coffee had arrived. "Now, finish up with breakfast and then get out of here. Dudley's friends will be coming over soon I'm sure, and I don't want you here to ruin the day."
"Yes Uncle Vernon," Harry replied, clenching his teeth to keep from saying anything rude. Even though the Dursleys hated him and treated him like the hired help, they fed him and let him sleep under their roof, so Harry wasn't about to offend them. After all, without them, he'd be worse off than the rest of the district. He'd be homeless, out on the streets without access to food or water. Living with the Dursleys may not be ideal, but it was preferable to Harry's other options.
As soon as Harry was finished serving breakfast and had cleaned up after himself, he made his escape. He left through the backyard, as he was afraid that if his aunt or uncle saw him leaving through the front, they might delay him with more chores.
When he came around to the front, he saw that one of Dudley's friends, Piers Polkiss, was already on his way down the street towards the house. Harry didn't feel like running into Piers, or any of Dudley's friends from the exclusive school he attended. Thankfully for Harry, he didn't have to deal with any of them most days, since his aunt and uncle insisted that Harry attend the community school with all the 'poor' students, as they put it. So instead of taking the street, Harry returned to his backyard and chose to yard-jump to the end of the block in order to avoid crossing paths with any of Dudley's rich, spoiled friends.
"Hey Harry," someone said from behind him. Harry jumped and spun around in fright to find his best friend, Ron, chuckling with laughter.
"Why'd you have to go and scare me?" Harry asked, clutching his heart dramatically, pretending that his friend's antics had almost caused a heart attack. "You could have killed me!"
"Yeah right," Ron scoffed. "You can stop with the theatrics now."
"Really though, what are you doing here?" Harry asked, genuinely confused. "You almost never come to this part of town."
"I came to help you escape. I know it's Dudley's birthday and I didn't want you stuck waiting on him hand and foot all day," Ron replied.
"That would be dreadful," Harry agreed. "Thankfully Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon don't want me around to spoil the day so I got out on my own. So where are we going?" he asked as he fell into step next to Ron, heading down to the lower town where the non-wealthy part of the population lived.
"Nowhere in particular," Ron shrugged, not having made any specific plans. "My parents are both out working, so we could head back to my place; maybe play a game of chess."
"If we play chess, you know you'll just beat me," Harry pointed out.
"All the more reason to play," Ron smiled cheekily. Harry laughed. He didn't really mind that Ron had won every game of chess they'd ever played since they'd learnt the game. Most of the time, Ron was overshadowed by everyone else in his life. He had four older brothers, which meant that everything he accomplished, they'd accomplished before him. He also had a younger sister, who as both the youngest and only girl in the family, often got a lot more attention than her fair share.
They arrived in the lower town and made their way through the streets to Ron's house. Harry loved Ron's house. The Weasleys were a very poor family, even by district 7 standards, so the house was small, and with eight people living in it, it could get pretty crowded. But Harry liked the way it felt – so warm and cozy. It wasn't at all like the cold, stuffy house his aunt and uncle owned in the upper town.
They went inside and were greeted by Ron's younger sister, Ginny, who also happened to be Harry's girlfriend going on two years. She was absorbed in a project in the kitchen though, so she stopped only long enough to give Harry a quick peck on the cheek before ushering the boys into the living room and shutting the door.
"What's she up to?" Harry asked Ron curiously.
"I dunno," Ron replied. "I told her I was going to get you and she started chopping and mixing things like a mad person."
Harry shrugged, not really interested in digging any deeper. With Ginny it was best not to ask too many questions. Ron located the chessboard and the two boys sat down in front of the fireplace to start their game.
"Not chess again," Ron's oldest brother, Bill commented as he came down the stairs. "How many times can you lose to him before you decide to give up trying?" he asked Harry.
"I still have a chance," Harry defended himself as he used one of his knights to claim a pawn.
"Fat chance," Ron chuckled as he made a huge show of claiming Harry's queen. "There's no way you can win now."
"Well I have to go now," Bill said, heading towards the door. "If you see Percy, tell him I've gone and I'll talk to him tomorrow night."
Ron nodded to indicate that he'd understood the message, clearly too invested in the game to form any words. Bill was twenty-six years old and had gotten married and moved out several years ago. He still came around the house pretty often though, so it was almost like he'd never left. Ron's next oldest brother, Charlie, on the other hand, was a different story. As soon as he'd graduated, he'd moved out on his own and gone off to live in the community on the other side of the forest, eager to get a fresh start away from the rest of his family. Harry didn't know exactly what had happened between them though, as the Weasleys didn't really like to talk about it.
Percy was the third oldest. He was twenty-one and still living at home. Harry didn't like Percy much. As soon as he'd graduated, he'd gone to work for the mayor. His dream was to one day live in the upper town with the wealthy people. The next-oldest Weasley child was George, who was nineteen, just a few months older than Dudley. Though George was scheduled to graduate at the end of the year, Harry couldn't imagine someone as reckless as George entering the workforce. After George, Ron was the Weasley's fifth child and Ginny the sixth.
"Close your eyes!" Ginny called from the kitchen.
"Why?" Ron called back.
"Just do it!" Ginny cried back insistently.
"C'mon, let's just humor her," Harry muttered, closing his own eyes and hoping Ron's were closed as well.
Ginny kicked the door open with her foot and Harry could hear her placing something on the table in front of them. "Alright, open," she said excitedly.
Harry opened his eyes to find a very unique-looking pie resting atop the chessboard they'd been playing with. It appeared to be an attempt at an apple pie – a pretty common dessert to be found in district 7 given their large supply of apple trees. Unfortunately, the apples seemed to have taken over the top crust of the pie, making it look more like a jumbled apple mixture than an apple pie.
"Wow," Harry said slowly. "That looks… well that looks…"
"Disgusting," Ron finished for him, his nose scrunching as he took in the slightly burnt smell of the pie.
"That's not what I was going to say!" Harry said defiantly. "I was going to say that it looks… interesting."
"It's okay, you can say it," Ginny said morosely. "It looks like something you would find in a garbage can."
"You're not giving yourself enough credit," Harry said, wrapping an arm around her. "At the very least this would end up in a feeding trough before it got sent to the garbage."
"Thanks," Ginny chuckled. "I just wanted to do something nice, you know, for today, since tomorrow's the Reaping."
"Don't remind me," Ron said, looking away, as though looking in the other direction would excuse him from the conversation. "At least your name is only in there five times," he said to Ginny accusatorily. "It's not like they're going to pick you. My name's in there thirty three times."
"What about you?" Ginny asked, turning her worried expression to Harry. "How many times is your name in there this year?"
Harry swallowed. "Seventy seven," he replied in a small voice.
"Seventy seven?" Ron exclaimed. "Gosh Harry, I'm sorry."
Harry shrugged. "Nothing any of us can do about it now, I guess," he muttered. Ever since Harry had turned twelve, his aunt and uncle had forced him to take out a tesserae each month. It wasn't like they needed the supplies – they had enough money to buy anything they needed. They just liked the free stuff. For them, there was no cost, but for Harry, he was paying the ultimate cost. Dudley had never had to take out a tesserae, meaning that his chances of getting chosen for the Hunger Games had always been miniscule. Harry on the other hand, was probably in the Reaping ball more times than anyone else in all of district 7.