Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series, and Suzanne Collins, author of the Hunger Games trilogy.
Warnings: slash, meaning boyxboy
Note: Set prior to Harry's departure to the Capitol.
Love and War
Harry sat, waiting for time to speed up but slow down at the same time. Yes, he didn't want to be in this situation in the first place, so he wasn't too keen on diving headfirst into his death. But he also didn't want to wait in eerie silence, knowing no one would come to say goodbye to him. Harry snorted at the prospect of the Dursleys "wishing him luck." Probably on the lines of "Don't embarrass us, you little freak!" or something like that. He jolted as the door suddenly burst open with a loud thud as it connected with the wall.
"Harry! Thank goodness, you didn't leave yet!" Hazelle rushed forwards and engulfed him in a hug. The warmth and love that washed over him made him want to cry. Not trusting his voice, he squeezed back, hoping to convey the gratitude and compassion he felt from her support. The answering tightness showed her understanding.
"You're a bright boy, Harry," she whispered, pulling herself back and running her hand through his messy hair. "You'll make it through."
"Bye, Harry!" shouted Vick. He latched onto the elder boy with as much strength as his six year old body can muster. "Have fun! Don't forget to bring back presents!"
Harry's heart broke at the innocence in the Hawthorne's face.
"I'll definitely bring back presents," his voice cracked as he held the boy in his arms.
Gale made himself known, gently pushing Posy towards him. Harry bit his lip as he cradled the youngest Hawthorne to his chest.
"Hey there, little one," he shifted side to side, trying to create a soothing rhythm for the baby. "Don't grow up too much, okay? I want to be there to see you get bigger."
With those watery words, Harry kissed her forehead softly, transferring her to Hazelle's arms. Posy started crying and wailing, sensing the somber and tragic atmosphere.
"Where's he going?" Rory asked as he pulled at his mother's skirt.
"Nowhere, sweetie. He'll be back before we know it," Hazelle held Rory's hand while simultaneously nudging her children out the door, giving the two eldest boys some privacy. The soft click of the door filled the room. Gale and Harry stared at one another, not daring to say a word, unsure of how to express what they are feeling.
When Harry felt that a Peacekeeper would barge in and carry him off, yelling that his time was over, Gale opened his mouth.
"You better come back, and not in a coffin."
Harry couldn't help it. He started laughing and crying, tears falling down his face as a painful grin split across his lips.
"Blunt to the end, aren't you?"
Wiping away his tears, Harry felt relieved somehow. Only his best friend could do that, make him fall apart and building him up at the same time.
"I'll kill you if you don't make it back alive."
Although he tried to hide it with a smirk, Harry could see the worry in his eyes. Harry lunged forwards and wrapped his arms around Gale, who hugged him just as tightly. He felt a wet patch forming at the back of his shoulder.
"You'll do it. You're a pain to get rid of."
The two shared a chuckle at the memory of Harry pestering Gale to be his friend two years back. Despite Hazelle's and Gale's reassurance of his victory, Harry knew that possibility was very slim. There will be Careers, trained to their whole lives for the purpose of winning the Games, lack of resources, and, he shivered, muttations.
But I'll try my hardest. Because I have something to live for, to return to.
"Time's up."
The door opened, revealing the Peacekeeper that would escort him to his death. Harry nodded, drawing away from Gale. The last thing Harry felt was the rough, comforting sensation of Gale's hand holding his own before he slipped away.