Disclaimer: the Harry Potter 'verse belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros, not me.The 'core threads' verse belongs to theaceoffire on fanfiction dot net. The Hunger Games 'verse belongs to Suzanne Collins. The Hulk and the other avengers belong to Marvel. Blackbeard (the Assassin's Creed 4: Black Flag version), Ezio Auditore, Connor and Edward Kenway and Altaïr Ibn La'ahad belong to UBISOFT and their respective developers. All other characters mentioned will have a disclaimer prior to their introduction into the story.
I make no money off of this work of fiction and in no way intend a copyright infringement. The actions, beliefs and other such things of the characters in no way reflect my own opinions, beliefs or theoretical actions in such a situation as that described.
There may be mentions or descriptions of sensitive topics which may include topics such as suicidal thoughts, substance abuse, torture, illegal actions such as underage prostitution and prostitution itself and rape (if only statutory). Should any of these topics offend or trigger flashbacks/panic attacks, self-harm or the attempt of such, suicide or the attempt of suicide, please turn back now and contact a helpline. I, the author, am in no way responsible for such things since you, the reader, continued of your own volition. Helpline numbers will be provided at the end of the story and at the end of each chapter.
Also Spoiler warning for the Hunger Games books and the main 7 Harry Potter books (except Cursed Child).
/Time Skip: On board the train to the Capitol/
Katniss and I stand stoic, stone-faced, staring solemnly at the cameras clutched in the claws of the creeping, crawling cockroaches known colloquially as the press. Effie trinket soaks it up, acting just the same as any Capitol citizen would – preening, prancing and pompous. After an Epoch of staring silently, we're ushered inside the train and Haymitch Abernathy is bundled on the back – out of the sight of the cameras. I guess they found him, and he looks no worse for the wear so at least they didn't shoot him. I hate doing clean ups, otherwise, I couldn't care less about someone as utterly useless as Haymitch.
It's late now, so we immediately head off to bed. "Good night, Katniss. Sleep well." I say, and receive a nod in reply. At least my slowly growing sentiments are returned to some degree. Well, I did come here to save her and her family after all, so why not?
/Time Skip: the next morning, still on board the train/
A high pitched shrill wakes me from my slumber, eerily reminiscent of Petunia's voice rousing me from my cupboard/room back at Privet Drive. It's effin' Trinket screeching that it's a 'Big, big day' – and maybe it is for her. Stupid bint. Fucking stupid ass Capitol. It's when I hear her shrieking about 'Language, young man!' I know I've been heard. Crap.
We're served breakfast – a rich, luxurious feast that's only an appetizer for a Capitol citizen but is worth an entire year of food for your rich-section District 12 citizen. Even Mayor Undersee would be jealous, and he's the richest of all the District 12 citizens in terms of monetary wealth – well before I came along and helped everyone that is. That and the fact that I'm an archmage turned god/primordial entity's master who can permanently conjure anything I can imagine down to the last exquisite detail, including gold and jewels and other such things means that I'M the richest being ever to exist, and the fact that I didn't even have to sacrifice my soul or a thousand virgins to a demon for it is just a bonus.
As we eat, I notice Haymitch staggering into the carriage where we're sitting. He reeks of alcohol and resentment. "So these are the fucking useless nobodies that are going to die this year, are they? Can't say they look like much. Oh well, at least they'll die quicker than the rest." He spits, glaring with bleary eyes at us. I conjure up a curved scimitar and remove his hand for the trouble. Effie faints, Katniss vomits and Haymitch is suddenly screaming and clutching his bloodied stump. Then he joins Effie on the floor, courtesy of blood loss. I cauterize the injury and collect the hand. If he's a good boy, I'll reattach it later for him. That'll teach the bastard to spew hatred in my direction. Asshole. A swift kick to the nadgers rouses him and his pitiful groans wake Effie, who visibly struggles to gather herself. What can I say? I'm REALLY not a morning person.
"And just WHAT was THAT young man!?" she yells – squeaks loudly, really – at me and I just deadpan and say "A scimitar." She blinks, nonplussed, and then rounds on me. Her squeaked rant on manners, etiquette, not hurting those you don't need to and the general un-civilised-ness of my actions lasts for the rest of the day. Of course, I don't listen to it, but I DO leave an illusion of me standing there to take the lecture. Poor bastard. Instead, I wonder around the train, nicking food and drinks as I go and chatting with Katniss, who seems to be nursing the beginnings of a crush on me. It helps that I no longer care about age differences and the like, thus freeing me to return her affection. She'll make a good wife at least. Oh, I can't wait to introduce her to the idea of a mutually-loving harem – such deliciousness can only be aspired to and for the exclusive 1% of entities like me, obtained with great difficulty.
Noticing her hesitation in trying the food, I conjure some Orange-flavoured hot chocolate and hand it to her. She sips the drink, bird-like, and sighs in a blast of soothed contentment. Since I've been practically inhaling the food and have enough nutrients in me to adjust my form to something a little more on a permanent basis, I ask her "do you want to see something really cool?"
"Erm…..okay. Only as long as it isn't dangerous. Or bloody. I don't do well with blood." She replied. Oh, joy; this will be interesting, won't it? If this doesn't cure her of her haemophobia, nothing will. I place my hands on either side of my jaw and give a quick yank. Katniss screams as my face peels off, followed by the rest of my skin, muscles, tissues and bones. Normally, the effect of such a thing would be death but I'm an immortal animorphmagus and my body is something akin to a suit for me – I can change what I wish at will or even take it off entirely. So, rather than being a bloody pile of goo on the floor, I'm there in all my glory in an even more buff body than before – denser muscles that are larger, bones stronger and denser to cope with it, tissues strengthened and made more elastic, fluids free of toxins and such (dimension hopping built up a LOT of toxins from space-time dimensional dust entering the system while it's broken down from the speed and healed simultaneously).
Looking around, I see Effie fainted, Haymitch unchanged from where he was when I chopped off his hand for being an asshole, and Katniss looking green but still standing. "What are you!?" she whispered, voice hoarse from screaming. "I'm an immortal dimension hopping entity capable of many feats of magic and intrigue that has the personification of Death as his son who gets bored easily. My name's Harry pleased to meet you." I say, grinning cheekily as she faints at last.
A job well done, if I do say so myself (and I do). Oh well, onto the next part of the plan since step 1 – integrate, take over and initiate was complete. Next up, step 2 – divide and conquer through the games. The plan was afoot.
"Ted! Come here! It's time for the plan to begin anew!" I yelled, summoning Ted to me. "Of course, Dad. Why did you have to call me just then? I was having a great time watching Blackbeard kill a bunch of Spaniards. He was just about to get shot as well." Ted pouted, kicking childishly at Harry's shins. Harry just picked him up by his collar and gave him 'you-will-be-punished-soon' glare number 101. Ted quailed and ducked his head, ashamed. "We will change Blackbeard's death at a later time and he, alongside Edward Kenway, Connor Kenway, Altaïr Ibn La'ahad and Ezio Auditore da Firenze will be teaching us all that they know. We'll duplicate them with golems and perform a standard time-bend replacement, so stop your foolish antics and pipe down, understand?" Harry said, getting swift and eager nods from Ted. No way was he going to annoy his dad too much and it seemed like he was far too close to annoyed for comfort already.
"Good. Now, we've got into the Hunger Games but we've yet to reach the Capitol. Any ideas on how we should ….dispose of them, shall we say?"
"Erm….we could chop them up for firewood? Turn them into a chocolate teapot? Change them into gender-bent dog versions of themselves, placed alone in a room with an actual dog of the opposite gender fed on cheering, stamina and that kind of potions and let them have at it for the rest of eternity? Confine them in a memory of the cruciatus curse with an insanity prevention barrier for eternity? Turn them into goats and give them to Aberforth Dumbledore from an alternate dimension? Put them into the pathway of an angry hulk in another dimension? Oooh, I know! Turn them into Crumple-horned snorkacks and give them to Luna as a present!" Ted suggested, growing more and more visibly eager with each question. That was actually highly disturbing, now that he thought about it.
"That last one calls to me. Yes, that's what we'll do. Just a quick snap of the fingers and it'll be done and I won't have to worry about getting Luna a birthday present she hasn't already got." Harry said, nodding quietly to himself.
/ Time skip: arrival at the prep team's domain/
Things were just as boring as normal as the train slowly powered its way into the Capitol station where they were greeted most enthusiastically by the prep team...by the deities were they eldritch abominations - less so than the other Capitol citizens, as we would soon find out. Still, at least one of them was sane; well, as sane as any Capitol citizen could be.
"Hello, hello, hello!" rang out the voices of these strange...things as they immediately began pecking around our feet.
"I am SO turning you into cockroaches and stepping on you if you continue your inane babbling and effeminate, useless clucking about like unusual avians!" declared Harry, swatting roughly at one of them when it got too close to his intimate areas with a rather large needle. Of course, this meant that the stylist was sent careening ass over teakettle into a wall about a hundred paces away. "Damn. I was aiming for the window." pouted Harry...err...made manly scowls of discontent, yes, that was what he did.
"I am sure that there was no need for THAT, young man!" said one of the stylists - the only semi-sane one of the lot, in Harry's opinion. At least he dressed in a manner that wasn't quite up to home-dimension's Dumblefuck's standards.
"And who might you be, you inane babbling buffoon?" stated Harry, raising an elegant eyebrow in a twisted facsimile of an enquiring expression. He did so love to be a troll - though not the creature variety. That would be weird.
"My name, good sir,is Cinna. You would do well to remember it - I'm the one responsible for keeping your ungrateful hide out of the roasting pits of public opinion and make you look good while doing so. Not that that's going to be easy, with the way you are currently attired. Now if you would kindly sit down and let me do my job, I and my team would be most pleased." replied Cinna, in a haughty, offended manner.
"You are an irrelevant irritant whose presence irks me, especially when I can do just as good a job myself without the need for a useless team of incompetent fools clucking about like tittering, headless birds of exotic plumage. I would normally cut your tongue out for trying to annoy me further with petty jibes the likes of which are just as pitiful as you are - which is to say, so pitiful that a pile of dung on my shoe would be worth more than you are. You are a freak, a weirdo, an abomination and everything in between. However, if you insist on continuing your foolish actions, I shall have no choice but to remove your filth from the world." replied Harry, eyebrow now joined by a sneer of contempt, making his words all the more cutting to poor Cinna. Effie was no help, standing wide-eyed and useless but whispering about Haymitch's hand.
"What do you mean, boy? You think you've the guts to do as you describe? HA! As if! I've killed more than my fair share of people who've tried such things and I highly doubt that you, of all things, could do similar." Cinna was angry now, thinking back on his past lovers turned would-be assassins turned corpses by his hand. This boy from some backwater village in the middle of nowhere thought he could take on one such as him!? Yeah, right. Still, he'd give the youth a few points on the contemptuous sneer, raised eyebrow and elegant, refined diction coupled with an evidently expansive vocabulary.
"And I've killed billions, entire planets worth of worthless things like you with less than a thought. I've even tortured more than half of those to boot - and boy, were their screams delightful! Before I silenced them...permanently...at any rate. Hmm, yes, the screams made me shiver with pleasure as they tore themselves apart to escape me. Not that it worked, but I enjoyed it just the same as the ones I killed personally. And the way they sobbed as I made them kill their loved ones, their entire civilizations was ecstatic. And all of it in the space of a few milliseconds while they simply dropped dead, screaming, with not a single mark on them was delicious." said Harry, remembering his younger years when he'd been a Black Lord after the fools had tried to kill his first love. His eyes shone with the same sick delight that they'd gleamed with every second of every day until each of the ones responsible were annihilated - even the 'aspects of reality' which had all fallen to him and he'd consumed their powers and taken their places. Fate, Free Will, Life, Death, Chaos, Order, Light, Dark, Balance, Discord, Time, Nature, Emotion, Apathy, Creation, and Destruction - every single one of them dead and consumed by him, except Death who was basically his son now. Then he'd repeated the cycle in other dimensions, but with one change - he consumed the Death aspect in those. Boy was he glad that he'd defeated and cast an assimilation spell on those two living viruses he'd encountered that one time.
Afterward, when he'd levelled out and got his head on straight, he'd placed memorials to each of them in a little glass sphere and then ignored it. Then he'd turned into a paragon of light - the White Lord - until he'd made his peace with his actions and became a firmly neutral entity though he'd still retained all his previous personas so any interaction could go either way, really, and Cinna had, unfortunately, annoyed him and he'd chosen to place the Black Lord mask on. Needless to say, it was super effective. The stylist was close to catatonic at the thought of being in such close proximity to this ...monster. Harry was internally laughing at the pitiful man's whimpering and heaving sobs. Katniss was torn between horror and being glad that Harry was there - on the one hand, she was horrified that he'd done such terrible things but on the other, he had gone through all of that and still come out relatively decent, plus he'd put a dead stop to any thoughts of getting her naked to be plucked like a bird pre-roast AND he appeared to like her, so she was guaranteed the ultimate protection, as were any future children she might eventually have.
Eventually, Harry just conjured up a flame illusion and layered it with a sticking charm to make it seem as though there was fire pouring off of their bodies. He also used a colour changing charm to dye their clothes black to enhance the effect that little bit more. He conjured a tiara made of diamond and placed it on Katniss' head so that the flames flickered and danced within the thousands of glimmering facets of the jewels. He even trapped a little actual flame layered with an ever-lasting charm inside to make them look hyper-sparkling and casting a perpetual fiery glow from within. With that, they were herded down to the remake center by a still effusive Effie -effing- Trinket.