Chapter 2: The Reaping
"So what do you think? Should I wear my hair up, or down?" Hermione asked. Hermione Granger was another friend of Harry's. She'd come over a few hours after Ginny's pie disaster to talk to Ginny about their outfits for the following day's Reaping. Harry and Ron couldn't understand the girl's fascination. To them, all the Reaping required was a nice suit and maybe a tie. For the girls, it was a chance to show off in front of the Capitol. Not to mention that on the off chance they got chosen as tributes, they would be making their first appearance in whatever outfit they'd decided to wear.
"Up, definitely up," Ginny said. "It makes you look older."
"What do you think, Ron?" Hermione asked. "Up or down?"
"You should wear it down," Ron said, "all wild and bushy. It'll make you look more dangerous – unpredictable."
"Ugh!" Hermione cried. "You don't know anything! I'm wearing it up."
"Then what'd you ask me for?" Ron asked, waving his hands. "If you'd already made up your mind?"
"Never you mind," Hermione waved him off.
Harry sighed. It was nearing curfew and he had to be back in the upper town before the Peacekeepers started patrolling the streets. The night before the Reaping was an especially important night for the Peacekeepers as many children would try to escape into the forest to avoid being chosen for the Games. "I think I'd better be going," he said when he'd finally run out of ways to procrastinate leaving.
"Already?" Ginny asked, looking up at Harry from where she was lounging on his stomach. "But it's still light."
"It'll be dark soon," Harry pointed out. "Besides, my aunt and uncle have probably left the house a mess just for me to clean up before I go to sleep."
"Well alright," Ginny sighed, sitting up and giving Harry a kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said quietly.
Harry smiled.
"I should really be getting home as well," Hermione said. "I'll walk with you."
"Thanks," Harry replied. "Let me just say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley." Harry got up and poked his head into the kitchen where he found Mrs. Weasley cleaning up the dinner dishes while Mr. Weasley was polishing his axe. "I just wanted to say thanks again for dinner," Harry said.
"Oh dear, it was no trouble," Mrs. Weasley exclaimed dropping the frying pan into the sink and scurrying over to Harry. "Here, take these leftovers," she said, thrusting a plate into his hands. "You're too skinny for your own good; I don't know what they're feeding you up there."
"Really Mrs. Weasley, it's alright," Harry assured her, trying to hand the plate back. He knew the Weasleys were poor and he hated taking from them when they clearly needed the food more than he did. It wasn't like the Dursleys didn't feed him – they gave him enough food to survive on without getting sick too often.
"No dear, I insist," Mrs. Weasley replied, patting Harry on the hand. "Save it for the morning, you can have a nice meal before the Reaping." She smiled sadly. All the Weasleys knew about Harry's predicament – how many times his name had ended up in that ball. It was a wonder he hadn't been chosen for the Games yet, but every year, his chances only got worse and worse.
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Harry smiled. "I guess I'll see you both tomorrow."
"Sleep well, Harry," Mr. Weasley said, looking up from his axe, which was looking pretty worn down these days after so many years of chopping wood. It was too bad Mr. Weasley couldn't afford a new axe. If only he could, he might be able to work a little faster and make a little more money. It was a vicious circle, Harry knew – one the Capitol loved.
He and Hermione left the Weasley's house and made their way to the upper village. Though Hermione's family lived in the upper village as well, Hermione was far from being a rich spoiled child like Dudley was. Hermione's parents were doctors – the only doctors in district 7. When Hermione was young, they'd been poor and had lived in the lower village, but as accidents in the lumber mill became more and more frequent, their services became more and more needed, and they'd eventually been able to move into the upper village. Hermione however, refused to attend the exclusive school for upper village children and instead made the daily trek with Harry to the community school in the lower village.
"A least it's only two more times," Hermione said as they walked.
"What?" Harry asked, having been off in his own world.
"The Hunger Games," Hermione clarified. "We're only in the Reaping balls for two more Games."
"Oh, right," Harry said, "yeah, good thing." Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all seventeen, which meant that after tomorrow, they only had one year of fear left before they would be safe.
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," Hermione said when they arrived at her street.
"Right," Harry said, not really paying attention. With the Reaping drawing closer and closer, he was becoming more and more worried by the minute. "See you tomorrow."
Hermione could see that her friend was distressed. She reached out her hand and placed it on his shoulder. "It's going to be alright," she said.
"Yeah, okay," Harry mumbled, not really believing her. It wasn't like she could predict the future.
Hermione smiled an encouraging smile and turned around, heading down the street. Harry continued to his own street and returned to his house, sneaking in quietly so as not to disturb anyone who might already be asleep.
As he'd expected, the house was in complete disarray. Sighing and knowing that if he didn't clean it up he would only get in trouble, Harry stashed his leftovers under the floorboards in his room and went about cleaning everything up. By the time he'd finished, it was almost morning. He stumbled into bed, knowing he only had an hour or so before the sun would wake him up.
When morning came, Harry felt like he hadn't slept at all. He wished he could sleep in, but his cousin was eagerly banging on the wall, keen to rub Harry's face in the fact that he was an adult now and free from the clutches of the Games.
"Wake up cousin!" Dudley yelled through the thin wood planks separating their rooms. "It's Reaping Day!" Harry groaned and shut his eyes, wishing he could fast-forward to the end of the day, when he would be safe and warm, eating dinner with Hermione and the Weasleys in celebration of having escaped the Games for another year. He knew he couldn't though, so instead, he rolled out of bed and hurried to make breakfast for his family.
"I trust you'll make it to the square in one piece?" Uncle Vernon said gruffly as he, Dudley, and Petunia donned their jackets and stepped outside.
Harry nodded, which apparently satisfied his uncle, because next thing he knew, the front door had been shut and Harry was alone to get ready. Harry eagerly ran up to his room and located last night's leftovers and treated himself to a delicious breakfast. Once that was done, he washed himself up and put on his nicest suit. He tried to comb his hair, but it was so unruly that he gave up, throwing the comb into the garbage.
All too soon, Harry was finished getting ready and all that was left to do was to go into the town square. As he walked, he felt his stomach twisting tighter and tighter. This could be the year, he thought, and that thought scared him to death. He wasn't like the other children, whose parents had taught them to swing an axe as soon as they'd turned six. Harry's aunt and uncle had never bothered to teach Harry any survival skills, which meant that if chosen, Harry stood next to no chance of returning.
"Hey Harry," he was greeted as he entered the seventeen-year-old boys' section of the square. "Nervous?"
Harry looked up from the ground that he'd been staring at the whole way here to find himself talking to Neville Longbottom, a fellow classmate and friend.
"I'm alright," Harry lied. "You?"
"Pretty nervous," Neville admitted. "My Gran gave me something – a tonic for the nerves I think she said, but it's only made me feel nauseous."
Harry grimaced and moved along before Neville accidentally threw up or something. He located Ron at the other end of their cordoned-off area and went to stand next to him.
"Alright, Ron?" Harry asked.
"No," Ron replied honestly. "You?"
"Nope,' Harry replied.
The square was almost full now, so Harry turned his attention to the stage. There were seven chairs in a line – one for each of district 7's five victors, one for district 7's Capitol representative, and one for the mayor. In the middle, there was a microphone on a stand, and on either side, a large, clear, plastic ball filled with slips of paper with the names of all of district 7's teenagers.
As the ceremony began, music started to play and the seven people for whom the chairs had been placed on the stage processed onto the stage and took their seats. Mayor Slughorn took center stage and tapped the microphone a couple of time.
"Oh ho!" he exclaimed merrily. "Welcome everybody to the district 7 Reaping for the 53rd annual Hunger Games!" He went on to talk about the Dark Ages; when district 13, with Grindelwald as its leader, had rebelled and declared war on the Capitol. He told the story of how the Capitol had wiped out district 13 and an era of peace had befallen the land. In commemoration of the Dark Ages, and to ensure something like that would never happen again, the Hunger Games had been created, the first one having happened fifty three years ago.
As Mayor Slughorn finished his speech, the Capitol representative, Gilderoy Lockhart, stood and moved to center stage. "Happy Hunger Games!" he cried excitedly. "And may the odds be ever in your favor. As always, ladies first," Lockhart said. He walked over to the first Reaping ball and plunged his hand inside. He rooted around for a minute or two before pulling out a slip and returning to the microphone in the center of the stage. "The female tribute from district 7 is…" he said dramatically as he opened the slip of paper with a flourish. "Lavender Brown!"
Harry let out a little sigh of relief. It hadn't been Ginny or Hermione. He watched as a familiar looking girl took the stage, and he realized she was actually in his class. She always hung out in the back of the room with Parvati Patil, braiding each other's hair when the teacher was trying to teach. Even though Harry had never really liked the girl, he wouldn't wish the Hunger Games on anyone and he found himself feeling kind of sad.
Harry didn't have much time to feel bad for her though, as Lockhart was already making his way back from picking the slip with the name of the male tribute. "And the male tribute from district 7 is… Harry Potter!"
Harry almost threw up then and there. He closed his eyes, fighting back the urge to be sick and clenched his teeth to keep his mouth closed. When he was sure he was out of immediate danger of losing his breakfast, he opened his eyes again to find everyone staring at him. Ron had the strangest expression on his face, and Neville looked like he was ready to cry.
Harry knew that he couldn't stand around all day, so he forced his feet to move, propelling himself forward to the stage. This couldn't be happening! It had to be a dream, he wasn't actually a tribute. But the closer he got to the stage, the more he knew this wasn't a dream. With his name in the Reaping ball so many times over, it was only a matter of time before he got chosen.
"Wonderful," Lockhart said happily clapping his hands together once Harry had taken the stage. "Do we have any volunteers?"
Harry looked out at the sea of faces, knowing that there was no chance a volunteer would arise. He saw Ron, staring at him dumbfounded. As his eyes ghosted over the female side of the crowd, he saw Ginny sobbing, her face buried into her friend's shoulder. Hermione wasn't far from her, her hand raised to cover her mouth and her eyes wide in shock.
"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the tributes of district 7, Harry Potter and Lavender Brown!" Lockhart announced, stepping back to give Harry and Lavender room to shake hands. Harry turned to face Lavender and took a moment to assess her. She looked terrified beyond belief, silent tears running down her face. Her hand shook as she held it out and Harry took it quickly, before the camera could get a good look at it. She may be his opponent, but he didn't want her to look weak in front of the Capitol.
The ceremony came to a close, the mayor said some closing remarks, and then Harry and Lavender were being escorted into the Justice Building behind them. As he passed through the doors, Harry turned and looked back over the crowd, just in time to see his aunt and uncle in the back snickering gleefully.