AN: Hunger Games/HP Crossover set in the world created by The Fictionist's Fate's Favorite

Revised: 04-09-14

"Mind if I cut in?"

Katniss was only too glad to escape from the strange conversation with the new Head Gamemaker. Turning to the stranger asking to dance, she was immediately struck by his startlingly green eyes, sparkling in amusement as he smoothly twirled her away from her previous partner and into his arms, continuing the dance without missing a beat. Slightly dizzy from the abrupt change in partner Katniss immediately tensed at the close proximity of the stranger, who seemed to sense her discomfort and pulled back an arms-length.

"Sorry about that," he said, sheepishly, though his eyes still sparkled with mischief, "I've just been looking for you all night, and you looked uncomfortable with him anyway." He paused as if waiting for her to respond, smiling slightly, but Katniss couldn't think of anything to say. Now that she had a good look at the stranger's face, she realized that he looked normal, or rather her definition of normal. No makeup or oddly colored hair, even his clothes were a flat black. She wondered how she could have missed him in the crazy colors of the party.

She realized, belatedly that he had asked her a question, "Ah yes, well I just don't like being away from Peeta for too long." Glancing around, she spotted her "fiancé" standing by the food table, watching her with worry. She tried to convey that she was fine over the stranger's shoulder, and Peeta gave her an encouraging smile.

"Sorry I'm cutting into your time with your fiancé," the stranger said quietly, and Katniss turned her attention back to those green eyes, which had lost most of their amusement, and seemed to pierce right through her, she averted her eyes again, not able to hold his gaze. Her heart pounded in her ears. Was it just her imagination, or was there a slight lilt of sarcasm on the word "fiancé"? Did he know? He seemed so friendly just a moment ago. A thought passed through her head that maybe he was sent by President Snow to give her a message. Thoughts whirling, she tried to keep her face relaxed, after all, he could just be an ordinary citizen of the Capital that wanted an autograph. She forced a smile on her lips, something that was becoming almost easy, and asked in a would-be-casual voice, "Yeah well, it's not like we can get any time alone here anyway. Oh, and I don't think you mentioned your name."

"Sorry," the man said apologetically, "It's been a while since I attended an event like this, so my manners are a bit lacking. You can call me Harry, and of course everyone here knows who you are, but what would you like me to call you?"

Surprised by the question, Katniss' eyes flickered back to Harry's which were softened by an emotion that looked strangely like empathy, though she couldn't imagine why he would feel like he understood the annoyance she felt with her sudden fame. Katniss tried to remember whether she had ever heard of anyone named Harry, as she answered, "You can call me Katniss."

Harry smiled and gave her an unexpected twirl as the music increased tempo without her noticing. They danced for a while in silence, and Katniss had to conclude that she had never heard of anyone famous in the Capital going by the name "Harry." The name was strange, so she was sure she would have remembered it if it were mentioned, and she definitely would have remembered those green eyes if she had seen them on TV. Katniss was starting to think of a polite way to extricate herself from this strange man when he smoothly pulled her close and started to whisper in her ear while transitioning them into a slower song. "I'm sorry for being so forward, but this is the only way I could talk to you without certain people over hearing. Don't talk, they have monitoring equipment in this room, specifically tailored to pick up your voice in the crowd."

Ice seemed to fill her veins, but the past weeks of acting had paid off, and she continued to dance as if nothing were amiss, though she listened to Harry intently. If he was worried about being overheard, then he probably wasn't working for Snow.

"This probably won't make any difference in the grand scheme of things, but I just wanted to let you know that you're not alone and…" he paused as if debating about continuing, then said, "things are not as they appear."

Katniss couldn't help but feel disappointed. She had been hoping that he would give her some news about the the districts, or some advice on how to get out of her impossible situation. Harry must have seen the frustration on her face because he smiled apologetically, then said in a normal speaking voice, "Well President Snow, I didn't think you would deign to join us mere mortals this evening."

"How could I resist when I was told you were here?"

Katniss yelped in alarm and whirled around to see none other than President Snow looming over her shoulder. He speared her with an empty, icy look before turning his attention back to Harry who still held her right hand, despite her attempts to heed the unspoken dismissal.

Harry seemed unfazed by the intense scrutiny with which Snow was observing him. Katniss would have been more impressed if she wasn't in the line of fire. She gave her hand another pointed tug, but Harry just gave her trapped fingers a squeeze that he must have thought was reassuring.

"So, you had your lackeys on the lookout hmm?" Harry mused casually. For a moment it seemed as if his eyes glowed as he surveyed the dictator with a sudden intensity that put Snow's attempts at glaring to shame, then the moment passed, and his expression became slightly contemptuous as he continued. "Or are they really your lackeys? It surprises me that you would be so eager to speak to little, old me. I'm nobody special."

The muscle in Snow's jaw twitched, and he glared at the unaffected young man, glancing pointedly at Katniss before continuing, "I've been informed that you are far more than you appear."

Katniss' stomach lurched at the reference to Harry's words, did they hear everything? But Harry smirked, "Then you have been informed wrong."

"Now darling, we both know that's not true."

If Katniss had thought she was out of her depth before, she felt like she had been thrown into the ocean with weights tied to her feet now. The man who had insinuated himself into their conversation looked similar to Harry, though more classically handsome with neat, dark hair, aristocratic features, and intense violet eyes. As soon as the newcomer spoke the atmosphere changed drastically. Harry stiffened and whirled around, a series of unreadable emotions flashing across his face before he completely blanked his expression except for his eyes, which practically shone with the strength of his feelings, though what those feelings were, Katniss couldn't tell. She was paying more attention to President Snow, who actually looked nervous for a moment before stepping back almost deferentially, and allowing the newcomer to step closer. Katniss realized that her jaw had actually dropped in shock, and she closed it with a snap. The quiet click of her teeth seemed to remind Harry that she was still there. He turned to her and brought her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles, an apology in his eyes. "I'm sorry Katniss, but it appears that your fiancé is looking for you."

With a jolt, Katniss realized that there was a world outside their little, tense bubble, and whipped her head around to see how the rest of the party guests were taking this confrontation. But, oddly enough, no one seemed to notice what was happening. Around them the party guests ate, drank, and danced as if there wasn't a deadly encounter happening right in the middle of the dance floor. Following Harry's eyes, which were directed over her shoulder, Katniss saw that Peeta had moved to a corner, and was speaking intently to Haymitch, looking worried. Feeling both relieved that she was going to be allowed to escape the conversation, and terrified that she would be punished in some way, Katniss followed Harry's lead in pretending that nothing was amiss, "I should go join him then. Thank you for the dance."

"You're welcome Katniss," Harry said, looking regretful.

Before she could safely retreat, the violet-eyed man caught her gaze for a moment, and she had the disconcerting sensation of being seen through, right down to the core, and being found wanting. Mind whirling, Katniss hurried over to Peeta, making up a story about leaving the dance floor to find the bathroom. When she looked back, Harry, Snow, and the third man were gone.

Harry turned from the retreating form of Katniss to lock eyes with his friend. "So, Tom," he said, neutrally, "it's been a while."

Tom Riddle rolled his eyes, "Yes seven years, six months and twelve days, not that I'm counting."

Harry couldn't help but snort at the wry tone Tom used. Then Tom grew serious, indicating a hallway leading out of the dining room, before turning on his heel and heading there, expecting Harry to follow. Harry raised his eyebrow, and contemplated not following, just for the sake of being contrary. But Tom, sighing long-sufferingly, came back, latched onto Harry's wrist, and physically dragged him away. Naturally, Harry dug in his feet to make it as difficult as possible.

"I forgot how difficult you were," Tom groused as he pulled Harry into an empty room, shutting and locking the door behind them with a flick of his fingers. They had both made leaps of progress in their wandless magic in their many, many years of life. Harry was smug to note that he was still just a shade better at it, and willed a chair into existence with a shrug of his shoulders to remind Riddle of that, replying, "Don't lie, you would be checking me for mind-altering substances if I acted anything even remotely approaching subservient."

Tom's eyes flicked from Harry to the chair and back, and Harry counted that as a win until Tom reached out, using the same motion to conjure a table and chair and pull the chair back to sit. Harry scowled and made a show of flopping ungracefully into his comfortable, red armchair, while Tom smirked and sat primly on his carved, wooden chair which, Harry was amused to note, looked more like a throne. It was always like this when they had been apart for a few years, they always had to reestablish those boundaries they had carefully cultivated over decades of knowing each other, and neither could quite resist showing off to the other. However this meeting was not as amicable as ones in the past. There was a tension in the room as they sized each other up, each waiting for the other to break the silence. It was Harry who broke first, idly asking, "How has it been, ruling this little corner of the world?"

Tom studied Harry's face, noting the signs of anger that anyone else would have missed. Harry had become rather adept at hiding his emotions in the decades since their time in Hogwarts, but Tom would always be able to read him. It didn't hurt that he expected Harry's anger. Tom debated going along with Harry's rather pathetic attempt to come at the issue from the side, or cut right to the reason Harry was there a whole decade early.

Then again, when had he ever attacked an issue directly when the indirect path was so much more amusing? Tom's lips curled into an approximation of a smile, "It's almost insufferably dull, though," his eyes flashed in anticipation, "things are looking to become much more interesting very soon."

Harry flashed a glare at Tom, dispensing with his attempt at nonchalance and turing to face him directly. "What, watching children kill each other every year isn't enough entertainment for you?" Harry spat. Tom smirked, unrepentant, and Harry only restrained his urge to curse Tom through long years of cultivating patience against the insufferable git. But, that didn't stop Harry from biting out, "This is a new low, even for you Tom. I thought you had come here to try to salvage as many magicals as you could, and bring them back to the Sanctuary. Not satisfying your sadistic tendencies when our people could be out there suffering." The ability to make reasoned arguments even while under the influence of his rage was one the gifts that Tom sometimes regretted giving Harry. Tom glared at Harry, snarling, "They deserve it! They deserve it for destroying this world for all of us. You know I would never put punishing the muggles over helping our kind, but there are barely any left. This country was hit the worst and outside of this little capital and the thirteen districts, everything else is gone or full of enough radiation to kill a witch or wizard in days."

Harry slumped back in his chair, sighing and running a shaky hand through his hair. He understood Tom's feelings, and he could almost sympathize. Almost a hundred years ago he and Tom had established a magical sanctuary in Australia, taking the entire country, erasing it from muggle and electronic perception, and providing every protection that they knew of, and a few that they had invented for the occasion. One of those protections being against radiation. It turned out that witches and wizards were more prone to radiation sickness than muggles for reasons that Harry had never bothered to find out, and when the muggles started nuclear warfare, unsuspecting magicals were being wiped out faster than aid could reach them, not that there was much aid to be had. The wizarding world was completely unequipped to deal with the threat, despite Harry and Tom's efforts toward reform. The wizarding world changed slowly, and they paid for it with most of their population. Harry and Tom had done their best, creating the Sanctuary and evacuating as much of the culture as they could, but so much had been lost. It took nearly a hundred years to do the initial evacuations, and to get the new magical community united and settled under one government. It had only been almost a decade ago that Harry and Tom had been satisfied enough with the stability of their new home to venture into the rest of the world to look for surviving magicals that had missed the evacuations so long ago. Harry had gone to what used to be Japan, and Tom had gone to the erstwhile California, and they had agreed to meet in the middle in two decades. What they hadn't counted on was the devastation outside of the Sanctuary. Japan had been completely wiped out, leaving a hunk of radioactive rock in the ocean. The Muslim countries had been barely any better. China and its surrounding countries on the Pacific had small colonies of mixed muggle and magical communities carving out a life in the mountains, but most of the magicals had refused to leave without their muggle family or friends, and Harry had no choice but to leave them be. The Sanctuary was exclusively a magical community, and as much as Harry objected to the idea on principal, and wanted to blame Tom for spreading muggle-hate propaganda, the people had voted, and Harry could hardly blame them. To them, the muggles had destroyed the world, and it was true, even though not all muggles were at fault. Still, there was no excuse for what Tom was doing.

"I know you're angry," Harry sighed, running his hand through his hair again, "Hell, I am too. It's much worse out here than I'd feared." He looked up at Tom with haunted eyes. "We waited too long."

Tom seemed to deflate from his vengeful fury, slumping forward to put his elbows on the table with a sigh. "Don't do that, Hero, you know that we left as soon as we could. The Sanctuary was a disaster waiting to happen. It needed careful direction to cool the hotheads wanting to go out and get revenge, and the idiots that thought it was a good idea to bring up old grudges between families and countries when we were already on the brink of extinction." Harry knew it, still… But Tom interrupted Harry just as he'd opened his mouth to make another argument.

"How many did you save?" he asked, intently.

"Not as many as I'd hoped," Harry morosely replied, derailed, "A couple of small communities in the mountains, but most of them were mixed, and the magicals refused to leave their muggle friends and family when their magic was more often than not responsible for the group's continued survival." Tom wrinkled his nose, and Harry continued before he could say something snide. "I threw some protections over those villages, mostly just some anti-radiation wards. Whether they choose to live with us or not, they are still our people. But, my greatest find was in China." He leaned forward in excitement, and Tom mirrored him unconsciously, "Tom, I found a blessing of unicorns!" Both of Tom's eyebrows shot up, and the corners of his mouth turned up into the first smile Harry had seen in…too long.

"Were they well?" Tom asked, eagerly. They had both thought the unicorns had been completely wiped out, since they had turned out to be particularly sensitive to radiation, unable to tolerate it in any amount, which was why they had only resided in heavily magical forests, since electronics couldn't work there.

"Yes," Harry replied, smiling at the memory, "well, they were mostly ok. They had been on the brink of starvation when I stumbled upon them, but a few weeks in a proper forest got them back on their feet. Last time I got a message from the Sanctuary, they said the unicorns were doing fine. Almost thirty of them! I couldn't believe it when I saw them. It gives me hope that there might still be some phoenixes out there."

Many magical creatures were thought to be extinct since the bombs dropped, especially the more magical ones: phoenixes, unicorns, dragons, and dementors, though Harry thought the last was no loss.

Tom quirked an eyebrow, "Don't get ahead of yourself, Golden Boy, phoenixes were rare before the bombs dropped. It's extremely unlikely that we'll stumble on one now. Though," and Tom got that thoughtful look as he eyed Harry speculatively, "the odds of you stumbling on what must have been the last unicorns in the East are astronomical. Especially, given the point that unicorns only let the 'pure of heart' near them." He flashed Harry a quick smirk when he bristled, before continuing, "Maybe magic is helping us."

Magic had long-since been thought to have some kind of sentience, and unicorns were some of magic's most beautiful creations, so the claim was not unheard of, but Harry shook off the thought, "Even so, we're mostly on our own." Harry fixed Tom with solemn eyes, "Have you found anyone?"

Something flicked through Tom's expression too fast for Harry to read, even after all these years, before he replied, "Yes, I have found some survivors here and there, but like I said, the country is mostly a wasteland. So, there was no chance of finding any uncontaminated creatures or objects."

Harry knew immediately that Tom was hiding something. The explanation was too brief, and Tom's expression was too blank. He growled under his breath, leaning forward as he thought about Tom collecting stray magicals, and realized that there was no way he would have been as understanding about their choices as Harry, "And I suppose all of these magicals left of their own free will?" Tom looked completely unrepentant, but Harry knew he had hit the mark. "Tom! You can't rip people away from their family and friends just because you know they'll be safer at the Sanctuary. It has to be their choice, otherwise they'll just cause trouble and…" Harry trailed off as he watched Tom's expression, which had remained blank, but Harry had gotten a feeling through his magic that did not bode well. "Tom?" Harry asked, rolling to his feet and moving toward the table where Tom sat, hands clenched together, and face completely impassive. "You didn't right? You…" But Harry knew he had, and it made him want to break something in frustration. Pacing back and forth in hopes of reliving some of his anger, he couldn't help but snarl, "Tom you can't just snatch up magicals when you stumble across them, erase their memories and spirit them off to the Sanctuary! Damn it, I thought we were past things like this. Hadn't we agreed a long time ago that a magical's memories weren't to be touched? That a person's memories were so influential on their personality that to erase them was sometimes worse than some illegal personality-altering spells and potions? Merlin Tom, these people have been living outside the Sanctuary's protection for almost a hundred years! They have friends and family that are muggles! Most of them probably don't even remember what it was like to live in an all-magical community!Ugh!"

Tom, apparently having enough of Harry's ranting, had reached out, blasting Harry into the nearest wall with magic. Harry didn't have time to recover before he felt Tom's fingers wrap around his throat, holding him in place. He silently chastised himself. This was Tom's favored method of simultaneously shutting Harry up and gaining his undivided attention. Usually Harry anticipated the attack and blocked it. It was a testament to Harry's rage that he hadn't seen the attack coming, or maybe he was just getting rusty.

"Now that I have your attention, maybe you'll listen to my side of the story rather than assuming you know my motivations, Chosen One." Tom hissed. Whoa, Tom was pissed, and with chagrin Harry realized he had every right to be. Harry hadn't gone off the handle like that in decades, but the past few years had been very trying, and it hadn't helped that Tom was a party to something as heinous as the Hunger Games. So, Harry kept up his defiant glare, unable to draw the requisite amount of air to continue his rant.

"Yes, I stole the remnants of our people in America from their miserable little lives here, and sent them to the Sanctuary. I'm surprised you realized it so quickly," Tom's lips curled into a smirk even as his violet eyes bored into Harry's, "Did you consider it, Golden Boy? Traveling through the wastelands, and finding our people barely scraping by. Knowing you could offer them a better life, but unable to because of their love for their filthy muggle neighbors? Well, I'm not as noble as you. I care more about our continued survival than morality. So, I made them think they were the only survivors of a plague that had wiped out the rest of their village, and I got them out of there."

Harry couldn't let that stand without question, reinforcing his throat enough with magic to rasp, "Did you actually kill them? The muggles left behind?"

They stood glaring at each other, until with a sigh, Tom's hand slipped from his stranglehold to the back of Harry's neck, and he relaxed, leaning his forehead against Harry's and closing his eyes. "No," he murmured, "no I didn't kill them. There might be a chance of magicals being born there in the future after all."

Harry accepted the explanation for the concession it was, surprised that Tom had been the one to offer it, and allowed all of the tension to go in a whoosh of air. He closed his eyes and focused on their magic swirling and buffeting against each other.

A long while later, Tom pulled back, violet eyes calm and made his way over to a newly conjured sofa, onto which he sprawled in a manner that would make his followers on the Sanctuary faint in shock. Harry had the sudden realization that Tom had suffered more in the last few years than Harry had. Tom had always been more in tune with the ambient magic of the world. If Harry found the vast wasteland of nothingness, not one spark of magic, disturbing, then it was probably driving Tom crazy. So, Harry made the sofa into a sectional, and sprawled with his legs on top of Tom's. Cracking open a violet eye, Tom drawled, "I'm not your footrest." But he didn't kick Harry off, so he just shot back, "But you make such a nice one!" Tom merely grunted. Harry grinned to himself. Tom must be exhausted to be anything less than eloquent, but he needed to get this sorted out before Tom drifted off.

"Tom, you know that forcing children to kill each other, gladiator style, is wrong, even if they are muggles." Tom didn't say anything, but with their link open and their magic swirling together, Harry read reluctant agreement, so he continued. "I don't know what sort of advantage you were going to take through controlling that President Snow guy, but this has to end. Fortunately, it seems like the muggles are going to take care of it themselves. The rebellion of the districts has been in motion for a while. So, I say we sabotage what we can, then leave them to it." He didn't mention that he had already put protective spells around Katniss and Peeta, but Tom probably saw him cast them at the party. Harry continued to feel vague acquiescence through the link, but he wanted verbal agreement, so he waited patiently until Tom hissed irritably, "Fine, fine Hero, on one condition." Before Harry's paranoia could kick in, Tom's magic yanked Harry's half of the sectional parallel to his, sending Harry sprawling across his chest. Tom snaked a possessive arm around Harry's waist and continued, "Shut up and don't move for around five hours." Far too used to being tossed around by Tom's magic by now, Harry just grumbled mutinously and tried to wriggle into a more comfortable position. Seeing that the price was definitely worth it to help the rebellion, Harry tried to ignore the smug overtones in Tom's magic, and instead focused on the future. It would probably take a while to convince Tom that he should restore the memories of the magicals he took from their homes, and instead give them the choice of staying or returning to America, but that was for another day.

The next day the Capital had devolved into chaos. President Snow had died in the night, and despite the fact that he had been a healthy man with the best medical care available to him, he seemed to have died of a heart attack. Investigators could find no sign of foul play, even as they checked again and again. The death seemed completely natural except for one peculiarity, wrapped around his wrist was a silver pendant that no one had ever seen before, comprising of a line bisecting a circle within an equilateral triangle. Later this symbol was incorporated into the flag for the new government to Tom's amusement and Harry's chagrin.