Chapter 4: Journey to the Capitol
District 7 had five surviving victors, two female and three male. Each year, different victors volunteered to be mentors, so Harry and Lavender had no idea who would be coming through the door when it opened.
After what felt like an eternity, Gilderoy returned with their mentors in tow. "Mentors," he said with a grandiose gesture, "meet your tributes." He stepped aside to allow the mentors to pass into the compartment and take seats opposite the tributes. "I'll be right back," Gilderoy added, backing away to give them some privacy, "I just need to have a little word with the driver."
Once he was gone, Harry turned his attention to the mentors. He recognized both of them. Rubeus, Hagrid, the male victor, was a huge, hairy man who'd won his games about twenty years ago at the age of fifteen. Harry remembered the footage well; somehow Hagrid had managed to tame the Capitol's mutations and get them on his side to take on the other tributes. Despite being abnormally large, Harry didn't find Hagrid all that intimidating. Unlike many of the other victors, Hagrid went everywhere with a smile on his face.
The female victor, Minerva McGonagall, was a different story. She'd won her games forty-nine years ago in the fourth ever Hunger Games. Games from that long ago didn't air very often anymore, so Harry couldn't remember exactly how she'd won, but he found himself nervous around her nonetheless. She had a cool exterior and her face was a mask of indifference. Harry could never tell whether she was happy, sad, excited, angry, nervous… She was like a mystery.
"So how do we win?" Lavender asked, skipping the pleasantries. Pleasantries were not luxuries they had time for anymore.
"Eager, aren' yeh?" Hagrid chuckled as he took a swig from the giant mug he had been carrying in his hand.
"I don't want to waste any time," Lavender said. "In less than a week, I'm going to be standing on a platform listening to the countdown to the Games, and I want to know what to do when the countdown hits zero."
"There'll be plenty of time for that when we get to the Capitol," McGonagall told them. "Right now, the most important thing that you need to remember is that you are always being watched."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked.
"Exactly what I said, Mr. Potter," McGonagall replied. "The Capitol has eyes and ears everywhere. Why, there's even a camera installed in this very compartment. Don't bother looking for it, I'm not going to tell you where, because it's not important."
"So why tell us?" Lavender questioned her.
"Because everything you do, everything you say, has a chance of getting relayed to the people in the Capitol," McGonagall replied. "And above all, your first goal from now on should be acquiring sponsors. Without them, you might as well take these last few days to write up a will, because you won't be going home."
Harry thought that was pretty harsh, but she had a point. Who knew what kind of perils he might face out in the arena? What if it was down to the last two and he was completely dehydrated and a bottle of water could save his life and give him the strength to kill the last tribute, but he had no sponsors and no money for that water?
Before Harry or Lavender could respond, Gilderoy returned and announced that the recaps of the Reapings would be broadcasted soon and they should come watch them to get a first look at the other tributes. He led the four of them down the train corridor to a smaller room which he called the Screening Room. There was a huge screen on one wall, and against the other wall were a scattering of comfortable looking chairs and couches to sit in.
Harry took a seat in an armchair near the door and watched with bated breath as Gilderoy turned the screen on and the music of the Capitol started playing. The recaps went in order of the districts, starting in one and ending in twelve. The tributes from districts one and two were all volunteers, as usual. They would form the core of the Career pack.
The tributes from district 1 were far from what anyone was expecting. Neither looked like the skilled fighters district 1 usually produced. The girl, Charity Burbage, had soft eyes, pale skin and looked gentle as a mouse. She was small, meek, not the typical muscled fighters everyone was used to. The boy, Severus Snape, had long black hair that hung like a shadow over his face. He appeared not to have bothered to bathe in preparation for the Reaping either. At least he, in contrast to the girl, seemed slightly threatening.
The tributes from district 2 were much more typical Career. The girl, Bellatrix Lestrange, had wild hair and a crazy glint in her eyes that told Harry he'd better watch out for her. The boy, Tom Riddle, had a beautiful face that was sure to be beloved by the Capitol. His expression though, fixed on the camera, was dangerous, and Harry felt himself shivering, even though he was miles away from district 2.
The tributes from district 3, Bathilda Bagshot and Albus Dumbledore both seemed relatively weak. Harry determined that they probably weren't going to be much competition, though he admitted to himself that he shouldn't take anyone for granted.
District 4 was always an interesting district to consider. Some years they had Career volunteers like districts one and two, and other years, they offered up sacrifices just like all the other districts. There was no 'Academy' in district 4 as far as Harry knew, like there was rumored to be in one and two, where tributes trained until they turned eighteen and then volunteered to be Careers. In four, any training happened on their own and a volunteer from four was likely to win.
This year, district 4 had one volunteer – the male tribute, Sirius Black. As soon as the male name had been called, he'd intervened, swaggering confidently up to the stage to accept the honor of being a tribute. The girl, Marlene McKinnon, looked small and scared, and nobody volunteered to take her place.
The Reapings from five and six weren't particularly exciting. District 5 produced a determined looking girl named Amelia Bones and a mousy boy who didn't look like he would make it past the initial bloodbath named Peter Pettigrew. From district 6, the girl's name was Emmeline Vance and the boy's name was Fred Prewett.
Next was district 7 and Harry watched as Lavender was chosen, and then him. He watched himself climb the stage and shake hands with Lavender before being led into the Justice Building behind him. He had to hand it to himself, for all the fear and confusion and denial he'd been feeling, he didn't look the least bit scared up on that stage.
District 8 offered up two new tributes without incident. Nymphadora Tonks was the female tribute, and for the male tribute, Remus Lupin. Harry thought that neither of them looked like much of a threat, but didn't discount them either.
When it came to be district 9's turn, things became a little more interesting. As usual, the female tribute was Reaped first – an eighteen-year-old red-headed girl that looked a lot like Ginny, named Lily Evans. When her name was called though, a boy in the eighteen-year-old section started screaming and crying her name out frantically.
Before they could even call the name of the male tribute he'd volunteered, and rather than going through the motions, they let him up on stage. He went straight for the female tribute – Lily, and wrapped his arms around her, both of them sobbing into each other. District 9's Capitol representative, Ludo Bagman, asked his name, and he revealed it to be James Evans.
Ludo questioned him some more, and James revealed that he and Lily had gotten married a mere month ago, and that Lily was already pregnant. This had never happened before, and Harry wondered whether this would matter to the Capitol. Probably not, he decided. If the Capitol was comfortable sending children off to their deaths for sport, why would an extra unborn child be any different?
The Reapings from districts ten, eleven and twelve passed without much incident, especially in the wake of what had happened in nine. Both tributes from district 10 looked no older than twelve years old. The girl's name was Hedwig Owlson and the boy's name was Dobby Elthridge. District 11 yielded a girl named Bertha Jorkins and a boy named Cedric Diggory, and then finally from twelve, Dorcas Meadowes and Colin Creevey.
"Looks like an interesting mix this year," Gilderoy said, clapping his hands together as the music played and the Capitol seal appeared on the screen. "Those poor kids from district 9…" he trailed off.
McGonagall gave him a withering look.
"Alright, well it's getting late, and I'm sure you'll both want to be very well rested for tomorrow, so how about I show you two to your rooms?" Gilderoy asked, standing up.
Harry and Lavender stood and followed him out of the room, bidding goodnight to their mentors.
Harry's room was just down the hall from the Screening Room, and after Gilderoy dropped him off, all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. The room was simple, yet elegant. There was a double bed in the middle of the room with a bedside table on either side. There was a beautifully carved dresser against one wall and on the opposite wall; a door that Harry presumed led to a bathroom. He moved closer to the dresser, curious, and concluded that it was made of mahogany – a rare wood, even in district 7, and very expensive.
Though he just wanted to collapse into the bed, Harry felt that he should probably clean up a bit first. Tomorrow he would be arriving in the Capitol and he wanted to make a good impression. If he waited until the morning, he might not have enough time to shower. So Harry went through the door on the opposite wall into the bathroom.
The bathroom was like nothing he'd ever seen before. In seven, he'd shared a bathroom with his aunt, uncle, and cousin. There had been a toilet and a sink with a mirror above it, but nothing else. If Harry had wanted to bathe, he had to fill a tub with water outside. Here though, everything was different. The walls were tiled and colored a deep blue that made Harry feel like he was under the sea. There was a long counter with two sinks in it and a huge mirror stretching out across the whole thing.
The far end of the room was taken up by what appeared to be a second room, with only glass separating it from this one. Inside, the walls were all tiled and there were spouts protruding from high above on all three sides. There was a computer screen just outside the glass doors, so Harry went over to investigate. The screen revealed the room to be a shower – something that Harry had heard about but never actually seen. He decided to try it out, so he pressed a few buttons on the screen until the water turned on, and then he stepped inside.
As the water ran over his skin, Harry took some time to really think about everything that had happened. He'd been reaped. He would have to participate in the Hunger Games. Up until now, his thoughts had been revolving around having to leave all his friends, getting on the Capitol's good side and worrying about figuring out how he was going to survive. But there was another factor to consider. If Harry was going to make it out of these Games alive, he was going to have to do more than survive – he would have to kill.
Harry felt himself sinking to the floor. How was he going to be able to kill his fellow tributes? He wouldn't, he couldn't; it would be wrong. Harry had always believed in the value of human life. How could he not, after what happened to his parents? But if he didn't kill – if he refused to harm any of the other tributes – then how was he supposed to make it out of the arena? How was he supposed to make it home?