After they were marched off the stage and into the Justice Building, Seamus and Diana were led into separate rooms. Diana plopped down on a velvet couch, rubbing her clammy hands on the soft fabric. What had she been thinking? She was going into an arena with twenty-two other kids out to murder her.

The door opened and a man with tanned skin and gray eyes stormed in, a small woman following behind. Unlike the man, she refused to meet my eyes.

"Who are you?" he demanded once the door closed.

Diana stood, balling up her hands to counter the tremors of fear in her body. "You heard my name when I was reaped. Who are you?" she countered.

The man narrowed his eyes. "I'm Scott Everdeen."

"What do you want?" Diana shuffled her weight to her right leg, crossing her arms as she glared at the couple.

"The Reaping was rigged. Clara was supposed to be reaped. What did you do to stop it?" Scott asked.

Diana peered around Scott, and she met Clara's blue eyes. The young woman nodded her head once. A way of thanks, she assumed. Diana shrugged. "I have my ways. I wouldn't start telling people though… Why was it rigged?"

Scott shuffled awkwardly, guilt filling his features. "I made a mistake. That's all you need to know." The door opened, and a Peacekeeper motioned for them to leave. "…Thank you. Don't die, Diana. You seem like someone who could win this for District 12."

After they had left, two Peacekeepers came to escort Diana out to a car that would take her and Seamus to the train. The books she read and recordings she watched about the Games granted her one thing: knowledge of what to expect to happen next. Other than that, Diana was at a loss at how to feel, of how to react to certain things. Now she had to worry about the Capitol becoming suspicious because she decided to use magic to write her name on a slip. That thought caused her chest to tighten, so she focused on Seamus.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, ignoring the escort, Titus, as he talked loudly in the front.

The young boy took a deep breath before smiling at her. His eyes were still red. "I'm… ready to be done with this already."

Diana cringed. He'd already accepted his fate. Well, if she had any say in it, he would make it home before her. She had little to lose, anyway.

Once they were on the train, Seamus headed straight to his room, claiming he was tired. Diana sat on the nearest couch, watching as Titus poured himself something clear. The man made eye contact, a fake smile spreading across his face before he left that compartment.

The sofa was comfortable enough for her to sink into the cushions and mindlessly stare out the window. Trees flashed by, slowly at first, until the green blended in with the blue of the sky and the white of the clouds. She rested her hand on the outline of her wand hidden inside her dress while the other came up to play with her locket. Diana had completely forgotten about it, but was entirely thankful she wore it. It was charmed to shrink and hold things she would need for just about anything.

Diana sighed loudly, wondering about Scott and Clara. Specifically, what Scott had done to cause the Reaping to be rigged. Professor Smith had spoken about if someone had been traitorous toward the Capitol, then they would target the traitor's family. Either with accidents or with them being reaped, if they were young enough.

It seemed almost humorous. She knew more about Panem and its history than her own peoples' history.

"What am I even doing?" she asked herself.

"Getting yourself killed."

Diana jumped and turned toward the voice. It was the man from the Reaping. His eyes were glazed over, and he held a bottle of spirits. He wore his anger clearly, but there were traces of misery too. Diana stood, studying him closely. "I didn't have a choice."

He looked into her eyes, gray clashing against green. A small smirk spread across his face. "Oh, but I think you did." He groaned as he fell back onto the sofa she had been occupying. "No idea how you did it, but Clara Walter was supposed to be the female tribute. Someone—I think you—miraculously changed the slip to be your name. A name, before today, I've never heard of. And I know everyone in District 12, so does the Capitol. I don't even know how you got past the check in."

Diana rubbed her eyes. This is what she had forgotten about the Muggle-world: magic didn't mix well with tyrannical governments. She shrugged helplessly. "I'm an orphan. I don't get out much… as for the Reaping, well… I don't know. Maybe the Capitol changed their mind." She watched him raise a single brow and knew he didn't believe her. "Who are you?" she asked, hoping he would run with the change of topic.

"Haymitch Abernathy. Victor of the 50th Hunger Games, the second Quarter Quell. And your—" he hiccupped "—mentor."

Diana examined him. She remembered watching the 50th Hunger Games, remembered how a young boy from the Seam outsmarted the Capitol. He had changed significantly, even though it had only been four years since his games. He was not as fit, not as young, not as… happy? It was the wrong term to use, she knew, but it was really the only one that could work.

"Nice to meet you… I suppose," Diana said, sitting down in a chair across from him.

Haymitch looked at her closely. "Are you sure you're from District 12? You're not all bones, you're clean. You don't know who I am. How old are you?"

"Seventeen." Haymitch was too smart for his own good. Even when he was drunk.

He looked like he knew her secret, knew everything about her. But instead of saying anything, Haymitch stood up, swaying. "You'd best get your facts straight, sweetheart. The Capitol is thorough in their research." With that, Haymitch left the compartment.

Diana glowered at the door he went through. She hated most that he was right.

A/N: All edited by myself and my sister, who is not excited about beta reading a fanfiction since she hasn't done so since 2020 XD but does a wonderful job, regardless. Let me know your thoughts about these updated chapters (or just in general, if you've stumbled upon this)! I appreciate constructive criticism as well!