*PLEASE READ*
A/N: Sorry I haven't updated for more than two weeks. Spring Break is over and I've been busy with school projects. :/ But anywho, I'm relieved I got it out of the way to be able to resume to the story. And regarding the previous chapter, if you were surprised at the end then that's great. J I didn't want it to be predictable. If you read The Hunger Games book, you should have a general idea of how this story will flow. There will be some changes, and I'll be leaving hints here and there that could foreshadow an upcoming event. :) Oh, and please read the other author note at the end of this chapter too, thanks!
*Harry Potter and Hunger Games are by J.K. Rowling and Suzanne Collins.
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Draco could practically feel the huff of relief from the other boys. He could feel the tension in the atmosphere relax all around him. But for some strange reason he couldn't fathom, he didn't.
Why was he still holding his breath when the name he'd just heard wasn't his own? He wasn't chosen. He was safe for another year. But the fact that it was Zabini shocked him in such an unexpected way he couldn't bother to feel grateful for himself.
Blaise Zabini chosen as tribute. Blaise Zabini picked for slaughter. Possibly the only person at this school that Draco could stand, and he'd just received what was equivalent to a death sentence.
He sharply turned his head to scrutinize Blaise and his own reaction. He managed to catch for just a split second when genuine surprise flickered across Blaise's solemn features. Just a twitch of his dark eyebrows raising a fraction of an inch when he'd heard his name. Then the alarm was hidden and his face shifted back to an emotionless gaze.
The people surrounding them were turning to stare at Blaise, and whispers began to travel throughout the courtyard again. Draco watched in silence as Blaise inhaled through his nose and he saw his Adam's apple move from a slow swallow. Just a clench then an unclench of his jaw and Blaise forced his feet to move. He kept his expression impassive as he maneuvered his way through the crowd, and the other students stirred clear of his path. Draco watched as the same Peacekeepers stood by Blaise's sides and walked him to the stage.
Rita Skeeter grinned excitedly as she placed her hands on Blaise's shoulders and led him to stand on Granger's right. The three faced the crowd and Skeeter placed her wand against her neck once more.
"Volunteers?" she asked. She hadn't bothered to ask last year, but with Granger's bold request she had hoped another would offer themselves. Pointless though, no one was thick enough to volunteer. Only in the very best districts would there be students who were willing to compete.
Draco shifted uncomfortably in his spot. He knew of no one here that cared enough for Blaise to risk their life for him. He briefly wondered if Blaise was hoping Draco would volunteer for him. He probably wasn't. It would actually be a stupid thing to hope for, considering. It wasn't as though they were the best of mates. They had never relied on each other for anything. But as Draco stood there watching Blaise stare off into the distance like Granger, he couldn't suppress the sinking feeling in his stomach. If he was up there, he'd probably be hoping for the same thing. In a way, Draco was the only thing that could save Blaise in this moment, he was his last chance. But even at the end of this thought, he didn't do it. He chose to save himself.
Blaise stood rigid on the stage with his hands balled into fists as Rita fluttered her hand over his back. "Ah, well. With you as tribute, there's hardly any need to look for someone else more suitable! I'm sure you'll do just fine." She was right between the two tributes but she took a step back and placed her hands on their shoulders, trying to nudge them closer. "Alright, shake hands both of you!"
For the first time, both tributes turned to acknowledge each other. Granger scrutinized Blaise and he stared back, each having a look at their first opponent. Several seconds passed before either of them moved. Granger's hand twitched hesitantly, but then Blaise raised his reluctantly to shake hers. It was barely a few seconds of contact, when the dark skin met the ivory. Just contrasting fingertips slightly grasping the others carefully and then the tributes let go quickly, wary to the foreign touch.
Draco's eyes wandered from Blaise to Granger, and somehow, the pained expression in her eyes triggered an ancient memory that itched in the back of his mind.
"And now this concludes our Reaping Ceremony!" said Rita Skeeter. She babbled on for about another minute but Hermione barely heard her. All the noise was beginning to muffle around her. She wanted to risk another peek at her friends but thought better of it. Seeing the pain or tears on their faces would not help her. She needed to at least pretend she wasn't ruffled at all by this twist in her fate. Like everything else, tears could not be afforded right now.
Next thing she knew, there was a Peacekeeper's hand pressed against her back, and she heard the loud groan of the great doors opening to the main school entrance behind her. And she followed them inside with several pairs of footsteps echoing around her.
Everyone began to shuffle around in the courtyard, parents rushing over to their children. They could leave now if they want, but mostly everyone lingered to see the doors open and Peacekeepers filing out, accompanying the tributes off the school grounds to a carriage. After all, it would basically be the last time to see those two students alive in person.
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Hermione sank into a seat at the end of a table in the Great Hall as she heard the Peacekeepers slam the door shut behind her. Blaise Zabini hadn't followed her inside, she had vaguely heard him say that no one was here to say goodbye to him anyway. Perhaps he was waiting outside in the hallway, or maybe he'd followed the Professors to one of their offices.
She rested her elbows on the table and gently massaged her temples with her fingertips. When Hermione had heard Rite Skeeter call out Blaise Zabini's name, the first thing she'd felt was relief. Relief that it had not been Ron or Harry. Relief that the boy tribute was not someone else whom she considered a friend. Neville, Dean, Ernie . . . It would be so much easier if the boy tribute was someone she didn't know or someone she genuinely hated. But Blaise Zabini was not a stranger to her. He was not a friend either. He was only a Slytherin who associated with Malfoy. Still, he himself had never personally insulted before. They'd never exchanged more than a few words, which were regarding prices or trade when he'd take one of her regular squirrels. He was one of the Slytherins who gave in to hunger and put aside pride to buy something from her. It was sometimes his money that allowed her to buy a meal for Lye and herself. A handful of sickles from him that would jingle once in a while in her pocket, along with the other money she'd earned. To put it bluntly, the odds were not in her favor today at all. Out of all the Slytherins that were chosen, it just had to be the one she could honestly say she didn't despise. The one she had nothing against.
And speaking of odds, how in the name of Merlin had the small slip of parchment with Lye's name written on been chosen out of all the others? Just-how? Everything Hermione had said that morning and various times before had been completely irrelevant. All her reassurances had been thrown out a balcony. There had been thousands of slips! She and her thirty-three slips had had been overlooked just like the other girls who had tens more slips than Lye. Her sister had only obtained one. Just one slip, one, and it'd been selected. Hermione had checked once, twice, three times, and had personally pestered some of the officials to be absolutely sure that Lye's probability would be implausible. None of it had mattered in the end.
She sighed. Hopefully, Lye, Harry, or Ron would be able to come see her in a few minutes. This would most likely be the last time she'd get to see any of them, and she needed to focus on everything she had to remember to say. Lye would cry, and as much as it would upset her, Hermione had to force herself not to. Turning weepy would be the opposite of helpful. As she processed the list of reminders she needed to tell, the doors to the Great Hall opened. Hermione stood and immediately rushed over to crush her sister in her arms.
Ginny Weasley walked in followed by Blaise Zabini. He said nothing as he stalked over to the Slytherin table and sat with his back to the others. Hermione guided her sister over to the edge of the Gryffindor table and saw that McGonagall had also entered the large room. Lye was not crying yet, but it actually bothered Hermione more. It reminded her of the numbness Lye experienced when their parents had died, or the deadly silence that follows when she'd wake up from a nightmare, with the terror still lingering quietly inside her.
"They probably wouldn't have allowed me to come see you," said Ginny quietly. "but they think I'm your best friend."
"You are," said Hermione. "One of them." And she briefly let go of Lye to hug Ginny, one of the few girls Hermione could consider a genuine friend. "Please tell the boys to stay out of trouble." Hermione whispered in her ear. "Someone needs to stop them from doing stupid things that will get them expelled."
Ginny nodded with no hint of any tears in her eyes, and Hermione was glad that Lye would have someone as tough as Ginny that she can look up to.
She wasted no time in telling them that Lye cannot be taking any tesserae. She explained to them, sitting on the bench with Lye on her lap and stroking her hair, that Lye alone did not require so much food. If she was careful, she could earn a meal each day. Lye would be a bright pupil, she knew she wouldn't break any rules. With a few chores everyday, she'll be able to have something to fill her stomach. Harry and Ron would see to that. And she was sure Mrs. Weasley would too. Which brought her to the actual problem. What would happen to Lye if Hermione didn't come back? Lye would have no legal guardian. Would she be allowed to live with the Weasleys until she graduated? Or would they drag her into a foster home which is the exact thing Hermione dreaded when their parents had died. Lye would waste away in there. The foster homes she'd be sent to could destroy her. McGonagall assured her she would do everything she could to make sure Lye had a proper roof to sleep under every summer. She would do her best to make Lye's staying with the Weasleys possible. And she, too, would make sure Lye always had enough to eat.
"Here," said Ginny. " Some of Mum's homemade fudge." She handed the box over and Hermione was about to shake her head and give it to Lye, tell her that Lye would need it more now, but Lye spoke before she could start.
"Mrs. Weasley already brought me one. And . . . I'll be able to have more from her later on."
Hermione didn't argue; Lye was right. Now she knew she wouldn't get to say goodbye to Mrs. Weasley at all. The small box of homemade treats would be her last from her. And she stared at Ginny trying to get her words out, tried to tell her that she wanted Mrs. Weasley to know she would always be grateful for having her these years. Hermione had to be the one taking care of things, but she had always felt blessed having Mrs. Weasley there to sometimes take care of her. She didn't have to say anything though; Ginny understood.
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"Draco!" a female's voice shouted.
Before he could turn he felt someone's arms embrace him. Draco shifted and calmly held her mother, who was in her usual state of frantic worry after these Reapings.
He murmured his reassurances that he was fine, that the Reaping was over and she needn't be anxious. It was a slight lie though, a part of him still felt uneasy. He looked around them, but found no one else.
"He couldn't come," said Narcissa, knowing Draco had been searching for his father. "I'm sorry Draco. He wanted to come but he really couldn't. He had . . . something to take care of. Something came up and he really needed to attend to it. But with any luck, he said that perhaps he'll be able to visit the Capitol next week. He might even be able to take you with him."
"Did Mrs. Zabini come?" demanded Draco.
"Yes, she did. She has already gone to see Blaise." Draco nodded. At least the woman had the decency to say goodbye to her son.
"Draco," started his mother, "I'm so sorry about Blaise. I know he was good friend to you -"
"He's not dead yet, mother." said Draco sharply.
"I know that," she said steadily. "I know, but it's still horrible that this happened to him."
"I'm going to go see him." said Draco suddenly. The unexpected statement surprised them both. As abrupt as it was, Draco meant it. It wasn't just that seeing Blaise was the decent thing to do, Draco wanted to see him. At least a proper goodbye was deserved.
Narcissa nodded. "I'm sure he would appreciate that. His mother had followed the teachers inside. I think you'll find him in the Great Hall."
Draco let go of his mother and told her that he'll come back to see her afterwards. After the Reaping, everyone would celebrate throughout the night for the fact that they were spared this year. These nights had consisted of a visit to Hogsmeade, a decent meal in the Great Hall, or some drinks of Butterbeer in the common room. As Draco walked into the castle, he realized he wouldn't be doing any of that. They had always included Blaise in the previous years. Obviously, this year would not.
He walked alone in the corridors as he made his way to the Great Hall, knowing it will mostly be this way from now on. Blaise Zabini was leaving, and everyone else Draco had associated with before was gone as well. Crabbe and Pansy had left last year, and Goyle was scheduled to leave soon too. Theodore Nott had left years ago, he lived in the Capitol now. There were still several Slytherins Draco spoke to, but none of them were ever his friends. What will the rest of the year carry on like? Would he start negotiating with people he couldn't even tolerate, or would he always be on his own?
Someone suddenly stepped on the back of his shoe and interrupted his thoughts.
"Sorry," a soft voice murmured. Draco turned and saw Astoria Greengrass walking behind him. Several people had already entered the castle and were now filling up the corridors. "I was going to see Blaise," spoke Astoria. She was alone, but Draco was solaced that someone else had willingly come to bid Blaise a farewell.
"So am I. Come on." He didn't wait for her as he kept on walking but she easily kept up. They reached the doors to the Great Hall and Peacekeepers were standing guard on each side. One of the doors had creaked open before the two Slytherins could ask and they swiftly passed them to walk in. A Peacekeeper stopped Astoria from entering by placing his hand on her shoulder. Draco saw her stiffen under his touch.
"Just you two?" he asked.
"Yes." answered Astoria, grudgingly moving away from his hold.
He nodded. "You have five minutes."
Draco stalked right passed them and followed her inside, the door shutting behind him. To his right, at the table farthest from him, sat Hermione Granger with the Weasley girl, McGonagall, and the blond first year who was Granger's sister. Granger was holding the small girl and calmly murmuring fast words to the other two witches. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but from what it looked like it almost seemed as if she was giving them directions.
To his left he saw Blaise sitting alone at the Slytherin table. His back to the others, he started when Astoria practically jumped on him when she'd hugged him from behind. He turned with surprise as he enveloped her in his arms and glanced at Draco above her shoulder with an arched eyebrow. Draco strode over and sat beside the two. Now that he was here, he was uncertain what to say. Astoria let go of Blaise, slightly pink in the face and stared at Blaise's feet. Draco gave him a knowing look. He remembered how Blaise had once told him he thought Astoria might fancy Draco. He had smirked and said he'd always thought Astoria secretly fancied Blaise. Apparently, he was closer to being right.
"Did your mother come see you?" asked Astoria.
"She actually saw me in the entrance hall without the Peacekeepers' permission. They let her speak with me and left us there as they brought Granger in here. But she left by the time they came back."
"What'd she say?" asked Draco. He knew the question might sound personal, but Blaise and his mother weren't close. He was simply asking to know if she had actually given any concern over the situation.
"Not much. What she thought she should say." He was quiet for a moment, and Draco guessed he was debating if he should share whatever else his mother had told him. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "You know what, though?" he said quietly. "A second before she left, as if to make me feel better, she said we might have a victor for District Twelve this year. But she wasn't referring to me."
"Of course she was," said Astoria in a clipped tone. "Why wouldn't she?"
"She said 'She's a protector, a fighter, that one. She'll stand a chance against the others. She'll survive.' She."
Astoria's eyes widened and then her fair face contorted into a rare scowl. She looked over her shoulder and glanced at Granger, who was still speaking quietly to the witches and holding her sister. Astoria sighed, not bothering to say something of comfort, knowing Blaise was saying the truth.
Draco couldn't find himself to actually believe that. He shook his head. "Your mother doesn't even know who Granger is. Why would she even say that?"
Blaise brushed off something that was stuck on Astoria's shoulder. "She saw Granger volunteer. She must've been impressed."
"Probably wouldn't have said that if she knew her blood status," muttered Draco, mostly to himself.
"That doesn't matter. I still can't believe she said that to you." Astoria said tartly. "You're her son, what mother would -"
"Astoria," Draco cut her off. Her small mouth snapped shut with an audible sound. She realized she was about to say something that would bother Blaise even more and she ducked her head, resuming to stare at Blaise's feet, slightly embarrassed.
Blaise's lips twitched. "It's all right, Astoria. Like you said, it doesn't matter." He patted her back lightly and left his arm there.
She shifted in her seat as she pulled out an object from her cloak. "I bought this in Hogsmeade the other day." She held out a golden chain with a golden locket attached to it. "A man had been selling all these artifacts and I ended up buying this from him. It's just a locket, it doesn't open, but I thought it looked nice. It even has an S carved into it. And, well, I thought you might like to take it with you. If your mother hasn't already given you a token, that is." she finished quickly.
Blaise held the golden locket in his hand for a second and then stuffed it in his pocket. If Peacekeepers saw it, they might question him about it or confiscate it before he was even on the train. "She didn't." He gave Astoria's shoulders a light squeeze, "Thank you," he murmured.
They sat in silence for a bit, what else could they say? Ever since Astoria's sister had moved away, Astoria had kept to herself more than usual. Blaise was one of the few who actually spoke to her like he cared. Naturally, she had developed a soft spot for him. As for Draco, he was the one who'd accompany Blaise, and Blaise had always kept Draco company.
He'd really been surprised that the two showed up. He hadn't expected anyone. Astoria had always been considerate and kind. He needed to ask Draco that he watch over her, make sure she wasn't upset or alone. And he'd ask the same from Astoria for Draco. Out of the two, Draco's visit was the most unexpected. Perhaps they really had been friends all this time.
Across the room, Hermione was racking her brain for something else to say. She had told them everything important that was to be reminded, but she felt as though she hadn't said anything they already knew. Anything she felt she actually needed to say. But what was the point of trying to say something comforting? Lye was eleven, but she wasn't stupid. She must know that the chances of Hermione winning were very slim. And if Hermione stated that out loud, Lye would come up with some retort about how Hermione said the same thing to her this morning about her being chosen at the Reaping. And just look at how that turned out.
"You can't worry about me," said Lye suddenly. "You need to take care of yourself. I'll be alright, but you need to stay focused. Fretting over me won't help you at all, Hermione."
"Your sister is right." said McGonagall. "She'll be fine. We will all make sure of that. And you're a clever witch, Ms. Granger. Don't count yourself out of the Games before you've even started."
"I wasn't-"
"Well, it sounds like it." Ginny cut her off. "Giving us a long list of things to do for you as if you won't come back. We know all of that already. But you can't just-"
"I'm only telling you in case I don't return," said Hermione fiercely. "Which is a good chance-"
"Promise me you won't give up," said Lye abruptly. "Promise me, please. That no matter how awful everything gets, you'll do your very best come home. Please."
Hermione looked at her, and now she could see her sister blinking tears away rapidly. She sighed and held her face in her hands and stared into her brown eyes. "I wouldn't give up even if you're making me promise. But if it makes you feel better, then I promise I'll try my hardest. I won't give up, I swear." She kissed her forehead.
Lye sniffed and held out her small hand. In her palm was the Phoenix pin Hermione had given to her that morning. "Take it," she croaked.
Hermione felt her throat tighten, but she pocketed the small pin and wrapped her arms around Lye as she enveloped her arms around Hermione's neck. She craned her neck to her ear. "I know what you're thinking," Lye whispered. Her voice had a faint broken, crack to it. "But I believe you can do this. You're strong and clever. I really believe you can win."
Hermione said nothing. She had already promised she would try. But she knew what she was going up against. She couldn't bring herself to encourage more hope from Lye that could easily be crushed on her first day in the arena. And before Hermione could tell her something worthwhile, like how much she loved her, the Peacekeepers came barging in to drag them away.
"All right, time's up," one of them said harshly. Hermione glanced over towards the Slytherin table as she stood up.
Across the room, Astoria let out a soft gasp. Her eyes started to swim but she quickly suppressed them as she threw herself in Blaise's arms one last time. She even boldly pecked his cheek and he ruffled her hair after he murmured something in her ear. Draco drew in a slow breath. He hadn't said much, and now there was no time left to say anything else. He hesitantly stuck out his arm. Blaise raised a brow again but didn't pause to shake Draco's hand.
"Good luck," Draco uttered out.
Blaise nodded. "Thanks," he unexpectedly reached out to give a somewhat pat or one-armed hug to Draco. But he had moved closer to quickly mutter something. "Keep an eye on her. Make sure she's alright." he said in a low voice. He inclined his head towards Astoria and Draco nodded.
A few Peacekeepers had come to stand by them and were already guiding them outside. But they sharply turned their heads when they heard the loud, frantic cries across the room.
"No! NO!" screamed the small first year, who was desperately clinging onto her sister.
Granger's face was tightly composed as she gently tried to prod off her sister's hold. "Shh, Lye. It's alright-"
The little girl screamed as a Peacekeeper grabbed her arms and forced her out of the room. He dragged her out of the door and her loud wails threatened and bounced off the walls. McGonagall held her hand to her face as if to muffle any of her own cries and she walked out the room with the Weasley girl rushing out and trying to rip the little girl away from the Peacekeeper. She hoisted her up carefully, and held her as the girl sobbed into her shoulder. The Slytherins quietly followed them out.
Suddenly, Draco felt someone's presence brush by, and a cloak was whished away, revealing Potter and Weasley as they quickly sneaked past them. A soft "ouch" from Astoria made Draco stop and he grabbed her arm to steady her, as Weasley had just roughly bumped into her and stepped on her foot. He was about to snarl something at him but the double doors of the Great Hall had shut closed again, with Granger still inside. But before they'd swung completely closed, he'd caught one last look at Granger's face. And the memory from before flickered in a small part of his brain again, but he quickly shoved it aside, blocked it, and focused on the number of Astoria's steady footsteps as they retreated. He glared at the back of her head, which was still ruffled from when Blaise had mussed her hair.
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Lye had already been ripped away from Hermione and it was time to leave. She should have proceeded to following the others out but the distressing pulling of her heart forced her to linger inside the Great Hall. What was she still doing here? There was no point in waiting, in hoping someone else could possibly show up. They'd be breaking the rules; they'd be risking themselves getting in trouble. Which is why a part of her had told her to stay and wait just a little longer. Sneaking around is one of the mischiefs they did best. They would come. They would.
And she was right, of course. She didn't have to wait more than a few seconds before the double doors had swung back to close again, and two boys had managed to slip inside just in time. She hadn't managed to spill any words out before they had engulfed her in their arms. She could hear them breathing heavily, and she guessed they had to run to get here in time. She braced her arms on each of their shoulder blades and sighed in relief, grateful that she was given the chance to see them both.
"I'm alright," she breathed out. "Really, I am."
"We know." mumbled Ron into her bushy hair. "But we still had to come see you."
Harry pulled out of their tight hug. "You're allowed to take something with you- take my cloak." He shoved the invisible fabric in her hand but Hermione handed it back, shaking her head.
"They won't allow it. And I can't take your cloak, Harry, you need it more than I ever will. What else will be there to save you from any trouble?" she said, tugging her lips and attempting a small smile.
"You," said Harry forcefully. "You're coming back, Hermione. You're not leaving us forever."
She sighed. She had deliberately avoided this type of talk with the others. But she knew Harry and Ron would approach the subject of violence she'd be involved in. "I appreciate your confidence in me, but you shouldn't assume that I'll make it back-"
"And you can't assume that you'll die in this game." gritted out Ron. "That's complete bollocks! You aren't the brightest witch of your age for nothing, Hermione. You're the smartest person we know. And you know how to survive without your wand. There are other tributes who never stand a chance because they don't know that. You can hunt. With a bow and arrow, you can knock down loads of tributes-"
"It's different, Ron. It's not just beating everyone in an exam or shooting some squirrels and rabbits in the Forbidden Forest. You have to kill people."
"You don't have to blow up everyone who gets in your way." said Harry. "You can outsmart them all. You don't have to become a murderer."
"Yeah, how do you think the three of us have managed to get out of things for the past five years?" inquired Ron. "And that too. These past five years, you've been through things others haven't."
"And like Ron said, if you have to, a bow and arrow can-"
"They don't always have bows, Harry." interrupted Hermione. "I can only work with what I'll have."
"Then make one," said Harry. "You've made one before, haven't you?"
She nodded. "It's the spare one I've made that is in the Room of Requirement. All the way in the back by that black cabinet, Harry. And the one my dad gave me is in my cache in the woods. I left it there this morning, Ron knows where it is. You can both use them to collect any more game for yourselves."
"Which won't be long. There's no point in ruining one, trying to use it, if you'll be coming back anyway-"
"There are twenty-four of us, Harry. And only one will win."
"Yeah, there will." said Ron, placing his hands on her stiff shoulders. "And it's gonna be you."
Hermione sighed. She really felt touched by the amount of faith they had in her. But what would they do if they saw her being slaughtered? If they watched her in the projections in the sky, dying by the hands of another student? It would break them, more than they already were. Her death would cause a fierce anger and hatred inside them that might never leave them. She had seen them both in horrible states before- Harry had felt outraged all the time last year. It wouldn't be right to embolden any more hope that could be effortlessly shattered. She said nothing though, Harry and Ron both seemed so stubbornly sure she could win. As if she stood a chance.
"We'll take care of her, Hermione." said Ron suddenly, referring to Lye. "Hell, I'll even make sure Crookshanks doesn't starve either. I promise not to cook him."
She smiled slightly. "Thank you. I know you'll both watch over her. And I-"
The doors banged open, startling the three, and the Peacekeepers came barging in again. "What are you still doing here?" One of them demanded. "They're waiting for you outside!"
The boys turned their backs on them, embracing Hermione one final time. There was no need to remind them of anything. What was necessary had already been told, but she still felt that burning need to tell them so much more. She just wanted to tell them personally, and Ginny would warn them again later, trying to get the message dented into their skulls.
She briefly pecked them each on the cheek, kisses too rushed to cause the boys' ears to turn red. "Please, please take care of yourselves. I'm counting on you with Lye, but I can't stand thinking something terrible happening to you two-"
"Blimey, 'Mione, calm down. Nothing will happen-"
"Everything's going to be okay-"
"Don't worry about us-"
"Didn't you three hear?" the Peacekeeper shouted, cutting off Ron. "Time's up! Now get outside, everyone's waiting!"
Harry asked for more time but they didn't bother answering him as they yanked the boys away from Hermione. The last contact Hermione felt was Ron's fingertips being parted from hers as a Peacekeeper roughly grabbed her arms and hauled her out into the entrance hall. She craned her neck and caught Ron's eye. His face determined as he stared at her over the Peacekeeper's shoulder, who started shoving him back.
"I love you!" Hermione called. She twisted in the Peacekeeper's arms to glance at Harry. "I love you both!"
"We know! We'll see you soon-"
"Hermione, I-"
But whatever Ron had wanted to say, Hermione never found out.
It was customary for the people of District Twelve to "cheer" for the tributes as they walked off the school grounds. It was sick, really. Clapping for two students on their way to a repulsive death. So when the Peacekeepers brought Hermione to the main entrance, she stood beside Blaise and was welcomed into a steady applause from the people in the courtyard when they opened the double doors.
She pulled in a long breath to help her compose herself, then the sunlight hit her face. The first thing she saw was her and Blaise's reflections cast onto the sky. Their expressions were almost identical. The only difference was that Blaise's blank face had a faint shadow of coldness, whereas Hermione showed no emotion at all. They could have been bored for all anyone could tell.
There was a clear path in front of them. A bit wider than the aisle made in the Reaping Ceremony, with the crowd carefully standing on the sides. Rita Skeeter descended the large steps of the castle with Blaise and Hermione slowly following her. Several Peacekeepers were lined behind them as they made their was through, and then the crowd gradually broke into a steady applause. It felt so tense and serious, the clapping loud and hard. As if people were deliberately clapping this way to irritate the present wizards from the Capitol. And to Hermione, the people's applause sent out a message of gratitude and admiration.
It all started to muffle out again though. Like when there was a celebration in the Gryffindor common room after a successful Quidditch match and Hermione tuned out everyone's loud conversations as she studied. She barely noticed as they all approached a carriage at the edge of the school. The ones used for students to bring them from the Hogwarts Express right into the school grounds. They would make a simple round through the village, just go through Hogsmeade once to show the tributes off to the other people of the district, and then back around to the station for the waiting train. Hermione climbed into the carriage first, and then Rita and Blaise. As the carriage steered through Hogsmeade, Rita started gushing about all the luxuries Hermione and Blaise would be experiencing at the Capitol. She blabbed on as Hermione stared out the window, getting one last look at home. Now that the Capitol wizards and tributes were leaving, everyone slowly began to shift back into their regular routines. Adults were all bustling about the shops, discussing the events of the Reaping. But it was still difficult to ignore the photographers that trailed behind the carriage, or the projections in the sky, which were trying to capture every movement of the tributes. Rita seemed to be deliberately talking more to Blaise than Hermione. Her animated chatter was being ignored, though. She sat between them, not acknowledging the fact that both the tributes were looking away, out the windows. Her hands fluttered in the air, and she rambled on about how the Capitol did not have any filthy roads that damaged shoes like the dirt everyone walked on around here. Blaise threw her a cold look but she easily brushed it off.
The ride had been quicker than Hermione expected. All too soon they were mounting off the carriage and waiting just outside the train. Photographers had all scrambled around them, absorbing Blaise and Hermione with their flashy cameras. They asked several questions, most seemed directed to Hermione but she completely ignored them. Rita grinned as she stood between them, talking up to the group. Blaise and Hermione stood rigid on the spot, Blaise kept himself looking calm but Hermione's face started to show some of her anger and disgust. Rita placed her arm around her shoulders and laughed as she answered a photographer's question for her. Finally, the train door behind Hermione slid open, granting them permission to walk in. Hermione rudely shrugged off Rita's arm as she marched into the train with Blaise striding in behind her. The photographer's continued to shout questions but their voices were cut off as Rita Skeeter entered the train and the door slid close.
The train was much larger than the Hogwarts Express. Just walking in felt like suddenly standing in a luxurious living room. Large arm chairs were placed in the center of the room with a fine coffee table in between. The temperature in here felt just right, and Hermione could see a hallway towards the back of this room. It seemed to lead somewhere brighter, and a delicious smell floated from there to here, filling this room with a warm, tempting taste of food that made Hermione's mouth water. It was only a few seconds before the train departed. The speed was immediate, it was advanced in the way that didn't take a minute to sluggishly start moving. The train took off lightly despite its rapid speed.
Suddenly, she felt long sharp nails digging into her arm. Rita roughly jerked Hermione around to face her. Her face had lost all cheeriness and excitement, replaced with anger and resentment.
"All right, now you listen here, Ms. Prissy," she snarled, "Your behavior outside was completely inappropriate. I don't care what you think you're allowed to act like at school, but you're going to start to learn some manners and behave like you weren't raised by a pack of werewolves. The way you display your presence matters in the Capitol, and no one will accept you if you behave like a cranky hag. You will not ruin this! You've made me lose my job once, I won't let you do that again!"
Hermione yanked her arm away from Rita's grasp. "You have no right in telling me how to act for you," she said acidly. "And you think I want them to accept me? I couldn't care less-"
"It doesn't matter if you want them to!" said Rita, her voice rising with frustration. "The point is that you'll need them to! No one will want to be your sponsor if you ignore them and act like you hate them!"
"I do hate them!" shouted Hermione, a fraction of her anger lashing out. "Of course I do, I hate all of you! Are you assuming this is a field trip for me? That I've been given this incredible opportunity and I'm just being ungrateful-"
"Well, how do you think I feel about all of this?" griped Rita Skeeter, her piercing eyes flashing behind her spectacles. "The boy is at least decent enough," she briefly pointed to Blaise, who was still standing behind the two ladies, watching them with uncertainty. "But you? Out of all the girls I could've chosen, it just had to be you! No, it wasn't even you. I hadn't picked you at all, but you still managed to weasel into the situation." Hermione slightly flinched when she heard the word "weasel". She hated it when others used it, and it stung now as it strongly reminded her of Ron. She turned away from Rita's unpleasant face and glared out the window, watching the surroundings from outside zooming by in blurry images.
"Do you think I want you to be the tribute I'll be forced to escort?" continued Rita. "Are you deliberately trying to ruin all of my careers? I would have been fine with that other girl I'd originally chosen, but no! You just had to step in, didn't you? Anyone would be better than you. That girl is more preferable, even if she is just a simple first year by the looks of it-"
Hermione whipped around. "Don't you dare judge Lye!" she yelled. "She's ten times more brilliant and clever than you are-"
"Then perhaps you should have let her compete!" shrieked Rita. "She'd be better at this than you are! At least people could've learned to like her. You're a helpless brat-"
"And what are you? How could I even have a chance if I don't even have a proper escort? You're-"
"Shut up!"
The two ladies and Blaise started as they twisted around.
Ludo Bagman was leaning against the wall next to the hallway. He held an ice pack pressed against his forehead and scowled as he studied the others with creasy eyes. Then he shrugged off the wall and sluggishly walked towards the middle of the room where the others were standing.
"You know," he said slowly, his voice dragging with a slur to it. Still drunk, maybe. Ludo pulled the ice pack away from his face and fingered it in his palms for a bit. He said nothing for several long seconds and Hermione thought he'd suddenly forgotten what he was about to say, but he lifted his eyes to meet hers and spoke again. "Usually, I have to put out the flames between my two tributes. Not the girl tribute and the escort, who act like they want nothing more than to Cruciatus the other."
"This does not concern you, Ludo." snapped Rita. "Stay out of this-"
"Actually, it does concern me, Rita." muttered Ludo. "I'm the one who has to collaborate with you and mentor her. And I'm not gonna spend the next few days listening you two jump at each other's throats."
"You don't understand, Ludo." said Rita impatiently. "This is the girl whose lost me my job as a reporter in the Capitol a few years ago. She's the reason I've been downgraded to this district's escort-"
"If you hadn't been sneaking around and spreading false stories, you wouldn't have lost your job." retorted Hermione.
"Stop interrupting each other," said Ludo, glaring at Hermione. "You're gonna have to learn how to hold your tongue fast if you don't want things to be any harder for you than what they already will be. And I don't like the fact that you're the reason I've had to work with this woman."
Hermione glowered and Rita looked outraged by Ludo's comment but he continued on without giving them a chance to speak. "You're both going to get over any pathetic issues you've had in the past and learn to tolerate each other. I don't care if you've humiliated each other or gotten the other one sacked. The escort here wants a promotion, and the girl tribute wants to prepare for the Games. Neither of you will get what you want by acting like this. So both of you will to learn to stand each other and cooperate! Understood?"
It was actually a bit difficult to take him seriously in the state he was in. His hair shaggy and uncombed, his clothes sloppy and crinkly, his puffy eyes, stubby, hairy chin, and slurry voice. He came out as more grumpy than extremely furious. As if the presence of the two ladies irritated him more than anything. But he had a fair point. Hermione might have the worst escort, but through Rita's eyes, she genuinely must've seemed as the worst tribute. She would need all the help she could get. And if part of the price was ignoring the fact that she hated Rita Skeeter and accepting help from her, then she'd reluctantly pay it. Rita would suffer too. Who had it worse? The one needing help from someone she despised, or the one who was forced to help a girl who'd sabotaged her?
Rita let out an aggravated huff of breath. But from the way her bright pink mouth pursed, Hermione could see that sense was slipping into her. She must really want that promotion if she was willing to easily forget her past with the girl. Hermione would still greatly dislike her, though both ladies seemed to give out the silent agreement that they'd be civilized with each other.
"Bloody hell, then" grumbled Ludo. He turned and began to clumsily walk away from the females towards the hall. "Women," they heard him quietly mutter to himself. "I'm checking to see if the potion I asked for is ready yet." He glanced at Blaise, who for the past few minutes, stood completely forgotten. "You. Come with me. Your chamber's this way."
Blaise silently followed Ludo into the hallway, not helping Ludo as he kept stumbling further in.
Hermione and Rita Skeeter stood in silence for a minute as they listened to the men retreat. Then Rita headed to the opposite hallway across the room. Hermione walked after her, guessing she was quietly leading her to her own chamber.
It was only a few yards into the corridor. Rita opened the door to Hermione's room and let her step inside. The room was dark; the curtains were draped closed and candles unlit. But Hermione knew this room was much fancier than her dormitory in the Gryffindor tower. The vague, black shapes in the room indicated it held more furniture.
"Dinner will be ready in a few hours. In the mean time, you may do what you want in here. There's an extra change of clothes in the drawers, wear whatever you'd like." With that, Rita left Hermione in the dim room, shutting the door behind her.
Hermione did not bother changing. She simply fell over on the bed, jerking her legs so her flats were tossed across the room. She heard them faintly thud on the floor as she rolled on her side, not pulling the covers over her body. She knew her behavior out there had been immature and childish, but what was expected? Her anger would have lashed out anyway, and Rita had provoked it then received it. It was nothing compared to how she actually felt, though. They had no idea exactly how much she despised the Capitol. The Hunger Games, the Ministry, all of them. But she'd make herself control that, it will only cause more trouble. All she wanted right now was to steal a few selfish hours for herself. To block out everything and face it when she'd need to. She grabbed a plush pillow and buried her face in it. Soft and fluffy, the fresh, clean scent soothed her and she sighed, closing her eyes. Priorities back home had been set, goodbyes had been told. As she promised, she had to focus and take care of herself. In a few hours she'd start planning, thinking of strategies. But for now, she just wanted to try to think of nothing at all.
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*PLEASE READ*
A/N: Okay, so the tributes from the other districts will be revealed in the next chapter. In the mean time, I'll still be thinking of other ideas for the arena. I have several ideas, but I feel like I need more blank spaces to fill. So in your review, you may leave any ideas or suggestions of your own. It can be anything magical: Boggarts, Red Caps, Hippogriffs, etc. If I haven't already thought of it, and if I like the suggestion, then I'll use it. And yes, of course I'll give credit to whoever came up with the idea. So review if you have an excellent suggestion, and I'll try to update soon! Thanks! :)