Chapter Three—Harry's POV

That night, when we were taken up to our rooms, I was shaking with fear. I was in the lift with the other Hogwarts champions: Cedric Diggory, the burly Hufflepuff seeker; Fred Weasley, who had a triumphant look on his face; Colin Creevey, who took pictures of anything and everything to mask his worries; Angelina Johnson, who was silent throughout the entire thing; Lavender Brown, a girl in my year who seemed to be lost in thought; Cho Chang, a pretty girl who made my heart pound; and Flora Carrow, a dark girl that didn't acknowledge anyone, and who had proved at dinner that she had quite a temper.

When the lift doors opened on our level, Cedric, Fred, Colin, and I exited the lift and it took the girls up another floor. It was like staying in a five star hotel, it was so cozy. The hallway's intricate designs on the walls matched the one on the floor. I saw four doors, each spaced a good distance apart 'for privacy purposes'. There were names on each door; at the end of the hall, I could see one labeled 'Harry J. Potter'. The closest one to us belonged to Fred; the one next to me, Cedric.

We all took off to our rooms, Cedric glancing down the hall as though he expected something. "Well, Ced," Fred said, breaking the silence, "I really admire your bravery in the Great Hall."

He had a perplexed look on his face. "Bravery?"

"For volunteering yourself," Colin said, the excitement dripping from his every word. Though I was by no means tall, he had to take two or three strides to keep up with every one of ours. "It was really..."

"Come off it," Cedric said quickly. "You would have done the same if it were Ginny, wouldn't you?" he asked Fred. He turned to Colin. "Or your brother?" He said nothing to me. "I probably would have done the same for a friend."

"What's the matter, Cedric, too gallant and noble to let her watch some grown-ups die?" Fred chuckled.

Cedric rounded on him. "Well, in case you haven't noticed, these Games are utterly ridiculous!" he snapped. "I was not about to sit back and let them kill off an innocent thirteen-year-old girl, let her fight to the death when she's hardly even lived her life! I mean, what are they thinking, letting you"—he said this to Colin—"or Flora, or any of the younger champions..." He trailed off, shook his head, and started again, "It's so unfair. They've hardly experienced anything and are expected to kill each other off? To knowingly walk into this, knowing full well that they could be bludgeoned at any point?"

"But we all know you did it because you love her," Fred said, rolling his eyes.

Cedric looked at the ground. "I never got the chance to tell her that."

"Well," I said, finally saying something, "we get to say good-bye to our loved ones before, right? Like...parents, and stuff?" I felt awkward talking about parents at a time like this. It was no secret to anyone in our world that, just some thirteen years prior, my parents were murdered...murdered, by the most evil wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort. He had tried to do me in, too, but for some reason, I survived with just a lightning bolt scar on my forehead.

People still feared to speak his name, and I definitely could see why. He enjoyed the feeling he got when he killed someone. He would relic in it.

For a moment, I wondered if we, those of us that were forced to kill off innocent people to remind ourselves that we were better than Muggles, would get the same thrill he did when we were finally thrown together to kill each other.

Cedric nodded. That was all that was said before Fred disappeared to his room. As the door shut, we could hear him say, "Hello, bed. Meet face." I laughed in spite of myself. That was typical Fred.

As Colin's door shut after him, too, Cedric and I were alone. "You're friends with Fred and Angelina," he said. I nodded. "And as much as you don't want to admit it, Colin, too." I nodded again. "And I know you know Lavender, even if you're only acquaintances."

"What's your point?" I asked.

"You do know that out of the five of you, only one can win. That means that if it ends up being two of you, only one of you is going to survive. And out of us two, only one of us has a chance."

The way he worded it chilled my blood. "That's why you volunteered for her," I said. He nodded. "Yeah, well, I don't suppose I have someone that plays as fair as you do to throw in the mickey for me. Otherwise I wouldn't be here. I don't stand a chance out there."

He shook his head. We stopped, having reached his door. He leaned against it, and for the first time I got a taste of how small I really was. A lot of these champions were far bigger than I was, perhaps not by stature but by muscle, or even ability. I wasn't sure how they were being trained at the other schools, but there was a hot rumor that at Durmstrang, they had a special class set up for those that would be old enough to compete in the Games, available only the year before the Games took place.

"I think you have a fair chance," he said. "You're not allowed to use the Unforgivable Curses, but you, Krum, and I...we all have a talent that'll keep us safe. And depending how sharp witted Cho Chang is, and Fred and Angelina, they might have it too."

I had no idea what he meant, and I let him know by shaking my head. "You're not making any sense."

He looked up and down the hall. Strictly speaking, until the Games started, champions weren't supposed to share tactics. I'm sure that didn't stop people in the past, though. In History of Magic, when it was announced that the Wizard Games would take place this year, Professor Binns (the one thing I actually had learned in his class) had told us that a lot of the champions formed allies until they were forced to kill each other off. Perhaps some people formed allies outside of the Games. I wasn't sure.

"We're allowed a wand, and pretty much any spell we want," he said in a hushed tone. "Doesn't that include the Summoning Charm?"

I was confused. "I'm sure you, me, Krum, and possibly the others aren't the only ones that know that."

He smiled. I was starting to get annoyed with him rather quickly. Mainly it was because he actually looked the part of champion; I had always been small and skinny for my age, whilst he was tall and muscular, and all the girls found him handsome, too. It would be interesting if it was ever announced that he wasn't exactly available. "No, I'm sure the others know about it, too," he said, then whispered, in such a hushed tone I had to lean in to hear it properly, "but do the others know how to fly as well as us?"

I stared at him. "Good night, Harry," he said, stepping into his room.

"Wait!" I called, but it was too late; the door clicked shut. I was angry. At myself...at Cedric...at the Ministry...at Fudge...at whoever came up with these stupid Games. When my name had been called out as a champion, I was rooted to the spot. I could practically feel the daggers that Ron was glaring at me. I could feel the sharp sting of his disapproval. But I knew that when his brother was called, he was supportive.

And how could he not be? It was his brother against me. I wouldn't have rooted for myself either.

With nowhere else to go, I entered the room left for me. It was more welcoming in appearance than the boys' dormitory I shared with Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus for sure, with its red walls and golden carpet, carpet so soft it was like walking on an animal hide. The bed was made, no doubt by house elves, so perfectly that I was at first hesitant to get into it. It had a red bedspread, with gold pillows that had "H.P." in the center. My things had been brought in as well; in the corner on a mahogany table stood the cage that held my owl, Hedwig. She hooted when she saw me.

I followed a mahogany door first into a walk-in closet (my clothes already hanging there), and another into a bathroom, complete with the biggest bathtub I had ever seen. The entire surface of this room was neither red nor gold; rather, everything seemed to be made out of purely white marble. My skin suddenly felt like pins and needles from the desire to relax for a moment and take my mind off of things, which I did. In the bathroom was hanging a blood red bathrobe on gold hooks, with white slippers beneath it on the floor. I placed the slippers and a single golden towel on the white rug in front of the tub. This rug was as soft as the carpet outside.

I turned on the golden faucet and shifted impatiently from foot to foot as it filled with water, steam coming off the surface. It finally turned off, close to overflowing, by itself and I climbed in, not caring how warm it was, but found to my delight that it was the perfect temperature.

After a while, a house elf came in to check on me and told me to my horror that it was already ten o'clock. I had arrived in the room at about eight thirty; surely I hadn't taken an hour and a half in one spot? But looking at my hands, my skin was wrinkled. I thanked the elf, then allowed the water to drain before pulling the towel hastily around me before going to find my pajamas. When I walked back in the room, Hedwig continued to hoot at me, glaring at me. I was unsure if I should let her out or not, but sank onto the bed.

The day had been rough. I wasn't used to this kind of luxury before, and it saddened me that this would be home for only a short while, before I had to compete in the Games and fight for my life.

I must have been on the bed for longer than I thought as well, as the analog clock beside me it was almost midnight before fatigue set in. I set my glasses on the bedside table, got up and opened the golden curtains to get some fresh air in the room, and went back to the bed, completely exhausted.

But sleep would not come. I got up and paced for a bit, stared out the window, made myself a cup of butterbeer (there were supplies in the bathroom, of all places), even tried taking another bath, but yet sleep still would not come to me.

Fine, I thought, wondering if this was a setup by the Ministry to drive me insane before the want to kill did. Fine. Go ahead and taunt me. See if I care. I'm not a piece in your stupid Games.

But I knew...I knew very well that I was.

By the time I finally went to sleep, it was almost four in the morning, and I knew I would be roused for breakfast by eight. That seemed to be a tradition: Get the champions used to elaborate meals at certain times, then force them into starvation in the Games. People had been talking about the rules in both excitement and anxiety ever since it was announced that the Wizard Games were coming back.

We would be starting training the next day, and I knew I had to come up with a plan.

My plan?

Don't die.

Okay I'm reading the Hunger Games as we speak (or really as I type and you so graciously read :D thank you to everyone that read, reviewed, favorited, alerted, etc., by the way), and I really think it was a stupid idea that Collins threw in before Part III of the first book. So if you guys know what I'm talking/typing/ranting about, good for you. Hopefully you agree. And it was oh so predictable. Tomorrow is my last day of school before winter break, so you can hopefully expect updates on a lot of stories from me then :D I found out that I got an eighty-four percent on my AP European History final, which made my final grade a B. I wanted straight A's but since AP Euro is my first AP class that I've ever taken, I'll accept a B x) Besides, I don't think I'll do any better than a B in Algebra II anyway, soo... Yeah, my school rant is over. Please tell me in a review who's POV you want me to do next chapter. If I like it enough I'll do it.

- Hatter of Madness