Always the dam capitol

Harry took his spot with all the other seventeen-year-olds, keeping close to Ron. They talked in low tones, watching at Sybil Trelawney arrived. She was the District 12 escort, wearing an elaborate rhinestone shawl with her large bedazzled glasses that seemed to make her vibrant violet eyes enlarged. She often was interviewed during the lulls in the games, giving her outlandish predictions of how the tributes would die. Sometimes, oddly enough, she was even right. Ron wagered the game makers manufactured those deaths for some entertainment factor that neither of them would ever understand.

Sybil beamed, rising on her tiptoes and looking around the crowd. Harry knew who she was looking for. The only living victor that District 12 had: Sirius Black. He was only sixteen when he won his games and became known as the district’s resident drunk. He holed himself up in his victor’s mansion, making the rounds to scoop up all the liquor he could and avoided talking to anyone. Sirius would have mentored Harry’s dad.

Although, Harry couldn’t blame Sirius for his dad’s death. A lot of people liked to talk. Every year after the reaping, everyone always talked about how Sirius cared in his early days of mentoring. He had actually schmoozed the masses and gained plenty of gifts for the District 12 tributes. But it never mattered. They always died. One right after the other. At some point, all Sirius became known as was a miserable drunk. Harry liked to imagine he still cared when his dad had been reaped. Sometimes, Harry wondered if they had known each other prior to the reaping since they had been the same age.

Moments before the reaping, Sirius stumbled onto the stage. Sybil huffed, shooting him a big-eyed glare. Sirius only laughed, holding his arms out to his sides. He tilted to the right, clearly inebriated like every reaping. His black hair hung around his bearded face, looking like he had barely bothered showering before showing up. A lot of people never understood how Sirius hadn’t been reprimanded by the Ministry. Or maybe he was behind closed doors. Nobody knew Sirius well enough to say for sure.

Sirius took his spot next to Sybil on the stage. She fussed with his suit jacket, brushing off lint or crumbs or whatever it was that was all over it. His eyes scanned across the crowd, his cold gray eyes surveying the kids up for the reaping, and probably wondering which of them would die this year. Sirius’ eyes seemed to stop on Harry, lingering for a moment before moving on. Oddly enough, it happened every year. Sirius always seemed to stare at him before every reaping. Maybe he remembered Harry’s dad, the kid he knew from school who he couldn’t save in the arena. Harry was told he looked just like his dad.

“Welcome! Welcome!” Sybil’s voice boomed cheerfully.

It was her traditional greeting, serving to quiet the crowd to know they were currently on the telly. It was their turn to be reaped. Harry held his breath. It was so eerily quiet that a pin would sound like an anvil.

“Welcome to the Seventy-First Hunger Games Reaping Ceremony!” Sybil continued, her smile so big that she looked like her face would splinter and crack in two. “As always, ladies first!”

Sybil placed her hand in the bowl, her long and fake mint green nails moving around the bits of parchment for dramatic effect. She plucked a folded piece of parchment, slowly opening it. Harry wanted to scream. Everyone hated the dramatics. All anyone wanted to know was if they were going into the arena or if someone they loved was.

“Ginevra Weasley!”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat, his head snapping to the crowd of girls. Ginny tilted her chin up high, walking in even strides up to the stage. She didn’t even look scared, an air of confidence radiating from her. Then, her jaw ticked. So subtle that someone who hadn’t studied her face for hours every day wouldn’t have notice. Harry knew it was taking everything she had in her to put on a brave face.

“No,” Ron gasped. “No, no, no.”

Harry couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. He only watched Ginny take her spot next to Sirius. Sirius towered over her, his gaze looking down at her as though he were sizing her up. Harry wanted to scream at him, to shake him and tell him he better sober up to keep her alive. District 12 without Ginny in it seemed unfathomable. She was a bright and vibrant, her infectious laugh always brightening up anyone who came in contact with her.

“Now, gentleman, which one of you will join Miss Weasley in the arena?” Sybil said in a teasing voice, her sickly nails dunking into the male bowl.

A piece of parchment plucked. She opened it slowly, the smile on her face faltering just a tad. Harry narrowed his eyes at her as a stupid, reckless thought burned at the forefront of his mind. He could volunteer as tribute. He could go into the games with Ginny and help her survive until the end. Sirius certainly wasn’t going to be able to do it while pissed drunk, but Harry could. Harry could ensure that all of the Weasleys survived into adulthood.

Sybils swallowed as Harry braced himself. “Ronald Weasley,” she announced.

Harry froze. What were the odds? The two youngest Weasley siblings being pitted against each other in the arena. It had to have been planned. Harry knew it was. When Ron took a step towards the stage, Harry shot out an arm to stop him. Without thinking, he pushed his best mate back and stepped forward.

“I volunteer!” Harry shouted. “I volunteer as tribute!”

The crowd gasped, murmurs breaking out all around them. Harry had never been alive to see anyone volunteer from their district, but other districts had. In the same steely posture that Ginny displayed, Harry walked towards the stage with a purpose. His gaze focused on Ginny who looked at him with furrowed brows and her pink lips parted.

He climbed the couple of steps to join Ginny on the stage, his hands clutching at his side. Before he could take his spot next to Ginny, Sirius grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and shook him. His face was ghost white, his limbs shaking.

“You weren’t reaped,” Sirius hissed, a whiff of whisky assaulting Harry’s face. “You weren’t fucking reaped. What are you doing?”

Sybil forced a laugh, making her way over towards them and pulling on Sirius’ arm. “Now, now, Sirius, we’re all excited to get to know the young man who volunteered, but let’s give him some breathing room.”

Sirius let go of his shirt, stumbling back away from Harry. His gray eyes brimmed with tears, a reaction that Harry didn’t quite understand. It must mean that he did remember James Potter. Clearly, Sirius must have still cared during his father’s game. That was the only explanation for his reaction. 

Harry sidestepped Sirius, taking his spot next to Ginny. He offered her a tight smile.

“What are you doing?” Ginny asked in a hushed whisper.

Harry let out a breath. “I couldn’t let you and Ron be tributes together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching her face. “It’s not right.”

Ginny only let out a breath.

“Now, young man, would you like to tell us your name?” Sybil asked, her voice sickening cheerful again.

Harry swallowed. “Harry Potter,” he replied in a hollow tone.

“Marvelous!” Sybil exclaimed, gesturing towards them. “The tributes from District 12! Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley!”

Harry reached for Ginny’s hand, wrapping his fingers tightly around hers. He didn’t know if it was for his own comfort or hers. Honestly, it didn’t even matter at this point because Harry was fairly certain it wasn’t helping either of them.

Harry could tell as soon as the feed cut. Ministry guards ushered them off the stage. Ginny yanked her hand away from Harry as she shot him a particularly nasty glare. It was a look he had never been on the receiving end of before, but he had seen her give it to plenty of others in the past.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking?” she hissed, her chest heaving.

Harry leaned down close to her so only she would hear. “Look, I’m not going to let you die in there. I’m going to help you.”

Ginny scoffed. “I don’t need your help, Harry.”

“Why do you think I volunteered?” Harry pressed.

They entered the district’s ministry building, away from prying eyes. As soon as the doors closed behind them, Ginny turned to face him and pushed him hard against the wall. Harry let out a grunt of surprise, his glasses knocking askew on his face. She was strong for someone so tiny.

Ginny pointed a finger at him. “You don’t get to pull that fucking noble act on me! I’m not going to have you die to save my life! I can’t live with that so whatever grandiose plan you have concocted in your head, get it the fuck out of there right now! I am not some damsel in distress that you have to save! You are not a fucking knight, Harry! So just stop that bullshit right now!”

Without another word, she stormed off. Some of the Ministry guards jogged to keep up with her. Harry stayed pressed against the wall, reaching up to right his glasses on his face. Suddenly, Sirius loomed in front of him looking red and angry. 

“You volunteered because you like that girl?” Sirius accused, his jaw tightening. “What the fuck, Harry?”

“Well, I knew you wouldn’t stay sober enough to help her win,” Harry said coolly. “So, somebody had to help her in there.”

Sirius jerked his head back like he had been slapped. “She had her brother going in with her.”

Harry swallowed. “Yeah, and Ron is my best mate. He’s more than my best mate. He may as well be my brother. I wasn’t going to sit back and watch them both die.”

Sirius’ face pulled. “You’re just like your father.”

Harry’s heart pounded in his chest. “So, you remember him then?”

Sirius let out a breath. “Oh, yeah, I remember him all right.”

Harry didn’t know whether or not that was a good thing or not. His chest heaved, his mind reeling with a million questions he wanted to ask but no idea where to even begin.

“Did you try for his games?” Harry whispered. “I heard you used to care.”

Sirius’ nostrils flared, his lips thinning into a line. “I stopped caring after he lost,” he admitted. “I stopped caring the moment that spear stabbed him in the heart.”

Harry swallowed. “Did you know him? Before the games, I mean.”

Sirius’ lower jaw jutted out. “I would have done for James what you did for your friend just now,” he said in a low voice. 

Harry frowned.

“He was my best friend,” Sirius continued, his head shaking. “You have no idea the shit I have done to make sure you weren’t reaped like him. You fucked it all up by volunteering.”