The Hogwarts Games

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  • Published: 24 Dec 2012
  • Updated: 9 Jan 2013
  • Status: Complete
Winner of the Crossover Competition! *_* I decided to combine two of my favourite fandoms - Harry Potter and Hunger Games to come up with - The Hogwarts Games! I've tried to pick up the story of Harry Potter from where JKR left it, so the main characters are the new generation of Potters and Weasleys. It's set in Hogwarts and I've incorporated the concept of the Games in here. I've really worked hard on this, so I hope you like it :)

Credits for the lovely cover - MoonAvis

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4. Chapter Four

At the Headmaster’s words, Julius the caretaker of Hogwarts brought into the Great Hall a jeweled casket, inside of which rested the famous Goblet of Fire. When Julius placed the wooden goblet on a high podium for everyone to see, it glinted magnificently in the lights, flames burning at its edges. Traditionally, it was used only at Triwizard Tournaments but Trevelyan had changed the rules, like so many other things about Hogwarts he had changed. Every year, he put in the names of every single Hogwarts student in the Goblet of Fire and on Reaping Day, the impartial selector shot out four names from each house to go in as tributes in the Games.

“Whenever you’re ready, reps,” said Trevelyan coldly as anxious house representative teachers trotted up to the Goblet as they had been instructed to do beforehand. They stood surrounding the Goblet and waited. And waited some more. Nothing happened. Just when it was beginning to look like the Goblet had had a change of mind, a single piece of charred parchment shot high up from the flames and landed in the Hufflepuff rep’s extended palm. She was quivering slightly and the tension in the Great Hall was palpable as she read the name written on the parchment. In a melancholy voice she called out the name. “Charms, Grace.”

A gasp went round the Hufflepuff table as a young girl, undoubtedly a first-year, crept up to the podium on tittering legs, silent tears streaming down her young face. She knew it. She knew it just as well as all others present. She was not going to make it out alive. She had no experience with magic and just as she was going to begin magical education, she had been robbed of the opportunity by these monstrous Games. The Reaping event was televised at every wizard home. Albus wondered what Grace’s parents were feeling like. The little girl shook the hand of her despondent rep as Trevelyan asked for volunteers. No one spoke. The little girl looked pleadingly at her house table, at all the other older girls who could volunteer to save her life but wouldn’t because it was too risky, and she even briefly caught Albus’ eye desperately even though she knew he was in a different house and could never help. And then, she passed out in her house rep’s arms. Albus forced himself to look away as a few people carried her away somewhere. This was the sickening, disgusting truth about the Games. Inhumanity.

One after the other, names were called and many more innocent students walked towards their decisive doom, even though none of the others who got Reaped after Grace were first-years. That did not make the situation much better. A second-year boy from Ravenclaw, Gary Matthew who was in Albus’ Herbology class from Hufflepuff, the notorious fifth-year twins Nathan and Natalie Albert from Slytherin, the eternally happy-looking fourth-year girl Jill Fetzer and a few others Albus didn’t recognise… and then the first tribute from Gryffindor was called.

“Omer, Ariana.”

It was the same girl who had shared their carriage earlier that evening. She looked death pale as she stood up from the Gryffindor table but Albus noticed that she wasn’t trembling like everyone else had done. Instead, she held her chin up high, gave Trevelyan a fleeting look of deep disgust and walked over to the Goblet to shake the Gryffindor rep Professor Longbottom’s hand with the air of someone who was standing up to injustice.

“Malfoy, Scorpius.”

Albus couldn’t help but feel a little bit of guilty pleasure on seeing the pointed-faced, grey-eyed, blond-haired pure-blood lover break down in front of everyone. He made quite a tantrum, refused to shake his house rep’s hand and screamed at Trevelyan’s face, “My grandfather will hear about this!”

And then, after “Grey, Rufus,” “Scohalfer, Lillian,” and “Rofhul, Samantha,” came the name that Albus had dreaded all along. He could not believe it was actually happening. He could not believe his worst fears were coming true after all.

“Potter, Lily.”

The world around him shattered into fragments. He couldn’t see, hear, feel or think properly. All that went on in his mind was that this was not happening. This could not be happening. Of all the people who could have been Reaped, the Goblet chose Lily? It was unfair. It was inhuman. He remembered the face of Grace Charms when her rep had called out her name, and it was not much different to the expression Lily wore as she shook Professor Longbottom’s hand, who looked as pale as she was, and when Trevelyan asked for volunteers, Albus felt truly helpless. There was no hope…he had promised his father he would take care of Lily but he couldn’t…he was the opposite gender, there was no way he could volunteer…Lily was going to die…

“I volunteer.”

Albus’ head snapped up sharply to look at who this was. He had recognised the voice but wanted the confirmation of his eyes. Suddenly he felt a kind of gratitude, a kind of indebtedness that he knew could never be paid back. But in all of this, he felt scared too. It was Rose who had volunteered.

He remembered her words. I promise to take care of Lily. She was keeping her promise. She was doing what was Albus’ responsibility to do. She gave him a reassuring glance that only made him feel worse as he shook his head vigorously at her. This was his best friend. She was volunteering for his sister. What could he possibly say or do?

In a moment, the horror had passed and more names were called but Albus barely registered anything after the harsh reality had settled in – Rose was going to be in the Games this year. Back home, he was sure Aunt Hermione had tears spilling from her eyes and Uncle Ron was fighting back all his emotions trying to be strong. But he knew no one would curse Lily for being the reason Rose was volunteering. They loved her too much. Too selflessly.

When only two names were left to be called and both had to be from Gryffindor, Albus found new horrors. “Potter, James.” He felt like he would collapse. His first reaction was denial. No, this was all just a horrible nightmare. It was too much to take. But when James had walked up to shake Professor Longbottom’s hand with the same dignity Ariana Omer had shown before, Albus knew this was real.

“Volunteers?”

I volunteer! Albus wanted to shriek. Me! I’ll go, not James. I want to volunteer! But as easy as it would have been to say these words, they refused to come out of his mouth. They had formed on the tip of his tongue but every ounce of his courage put together was not nearly enough to spit them out. And then, sudden and sharp, the guilt pierced his heart like a thorn. This was not like in Lily’s or young Grace Charms’ case. Albus could volunteer. He was the same gender and same house as his brother. Nothing could stop him from volunteering, Nothing but his own cowardice.

And as suddenly as it had come, this moment passed too, robbing him of the chance to ever speak up even if he could gather the courage. It was true. Rose was in the Games. James was in the Games. And he, Albus, had been too much of a coward to stop that.

Albus Severus, his father’s voice from two years ago suddenly echoed in his ears. You were named after two Hogwarts Headmasters. One of them was a Slytherin. He was the bravest man I knew.

The thorn piercing his heart dug itself in deeper. The bravest man I knew.

Albus knew he could never forgive himself. And then, the next name called came as punishment enough for his unforgivable cowardice, indicating as clearly as crystal that his chance to do something was long gone and now there was nothing, nothing at all whatsoever, that he could do to change reality.

“Potter, Albus.” 

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