Author's Note: I'm going to answer questions in my author's notes from now on. I am planning to keep the T rating all the way through this story. I will finish this story, although it's going to take a while. This is probably going to turn into a trilogy. I'm not sure whether I'll attach the sequels to this story or not. I'll have to check the rules.

And if you've left me a review recently or if you're following this story, thank you so much! I'm sorry that I haven't updated in so long. I had another writer's block. Sorry if that affected the quality of this chapter. Things will be faster once the actual Games start (unless I have a lot of schoolwork then).

Another thing: I am learning to speak French, so I know some phrases. Some of them might pop up in this story. I didn't write in the way that characters would pronounce words with a certain accent by changing the spelling (like the way things were done in the Goblet of Fire), so people will just have to imagine the accent.

Chapter 10 – Practice and Training

The training center was a commodious room that was comprised of five numbered stations. All twenty four tributes were gathered there for their first training session. Hermione was at the back of the circle of teenagers, craning her neck to see the Ministry witch who was explaining the rules of the Hunger Games.

"When you first arrive in the arena, there will be a two minute countdown to the start of the Games," she said. "It is strictly against the rules to step off the platform early. Your wands will be in the Cornucopia along with a variety of things that you may find useful. All curses and other spells are allowed, with the exception of the Killing Curse. This encourages tributes to become more resourceful when trying to achieve their goals. Any violation of the rules will result in disqualification from the Games."

A couple of the other tributes looked a little disappointed at this news. Of course, Hermione knew that "disqualification from the Games" was a euphemism for execution.

"There are five stations here at the training center," continued the Ministry witch. "Station 1 is for offensive spells, Station 2 is for protective spells, Station 3 is for flying on broomsticks, Station 4 is for brewing and learning about potions, and Station 5 is for learning about magical animals and plants. Dueling other tributes at the training center is not permitted. You may now go to the station that you desire to train at first."

The circle of tributes broke apart. It immediately became clear that the most popular station was Station 1. Hermione however, decided to go to Station 5 where she found a herbology book about identifying poisonous plants from edible ones. Sirius had told her that one year, even more tributes died from eating poisonous fruit than from attacks.

Soon, someone came to sit next to her and picked up a book also. Looking up, she saw a girl in the blue Beauxbatons uniform. The girl looked to be about the same age as Hermione, perhaps a bit younger. She had pale skin, brunette hair, long eyelashes and a slender face. Hermione ignored her, focusing on her herbology book.

There was a sudden high-pitched scream. Hermione and the Beauxbatons girl looked up, startled. The scream had come from Station 1. Hermione wasn't sure whether or not it had come from a real person. When she heard a second, similar sounding scream, it became clear what was making the noise.

Station 1 was full of extraordinarily life-like manikins, which emitted eerily human-like shrieks and turned to dust when a curse that would kill an actual person hit them. Hermione saw two Durmstrang tributes looking down at two piles of black dust, looking very satisfied in a way that seemed rather sadistic.

"It is barbaric," said a voice with a heavy French accent.

Hermione turned to see the Beauxbatons girl who had joined her at Station 5. The girl looked at her. Sirius had told Hermione not to talk to the other tributes, but Hermione didn't want to appear cold to all of them. Yes, she knew that there could only be one victor, but it still went against her nature to look at all of the other tributes as hated rivals.

"I agree," she said to the girl.

There was a long pause, before the Beauxbatons girl beckoned for Hermione to come closer.

"What is your blood status?" the girl asked quietly.

"Muggle-born," said Hermione without hesitation. She was not going to be one of those Muggle-born tributes who tried to hide their blood-status because of the discrimination.

"I am too," said the girl.

Hermione stared at her. She hadn't met too many other Muggle-borns who would tell you their real blood-status so openly.

"I wanted to know whether or not I was the only Muggle-born tribute here" continued the Beauxbatons girl. "All of the other tributes from my school are Half-Blood or Pure-Blood. They will have nothing to do with me."

She sighed. Hermione could tell that the girl was hoping to form an alliance. Personally, Hermione thought that alliances were a good way to win the games, just as long as you left your ally when the number of tributes decreased to about ten or so, but Sirius had spent the past 24 hours cautioning her and Nigel about avoiding any alliances. She didn't know the details of what had happened with his alliance, but judging by the way he acted, it had been quite awful.

"What's your name?" asked Hermione hesitantly.

"Eleta," replied the Beauxbatons girl. "What is yours?"

"Hermione," said Hermione.

"Enchanté," said Eleta, smiling sweetly. Hermione smiled back. She looked up to the platform where the mentors were seated and spotted Sirius. He was watching her with a sort of half-worried, half-disapproving look on his face.

"How old are you?" asked Hermione.

"I am in my fourth year at Beauxbatons," replied Eleta. "I am nearly fourteen. What year are you in?"

"I'm in my fourth year also," said Hermione. "I attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Hogwarts is the British school isn't it?" asked Eleta.

"Yes," replied Hermione.

"I believe that the only Muggle-born victor came from your school," said Eleta. "Lily Potter. I know that she is British."

Hermione nodded, and glanced up at the mentors again. Lily was next to Sirius, who looked quite a bit unhappy about Hermione's conversation with Eleta. Lily however, gave Hermione an encouraging nod.

"Is she your mentor?" asked Eleta.

"Well, Sirius Black is my mentor," Hermione replied. "Lily Potter is Sirius's assistant this year."

"Ah," said Eleta. "Sirius Black comes from a long line of Purebloods doesn't he?"

"Yes," said Hermione. Eleta frowned. Hermione knew exactly what she was thinking.

"But Sirius doesn't discriminate," Hermione added quickly.

Eleta looked a little doubtful, but she nodded.

"My mentor is a pureblood," she muttered. "She is not too pleased about having a Muggle-born tribute. The rest of the tributes from my school are the same way. They will not speak to me."

"That's awful," said Hermione. "I don't see why –"

She was interrupted by a loud clang and a shriek from station one. She looked up to see a group of tributes, congratulating each a boy who had blown a manikin to pieces… a manikin that represented a fellow tribute...

"Careers," said Eleta in a disgusted tone.

"What?" said Hermione.

"Careers are pureblood tributes who have been training for the Games for many years," explained Eleta. "They are quite skilled at fighting. They volunteer once they are in their fifth year or older. Many careers come from Durmstrang, but they come from Beauxbatons too. They usually form an alliance after the fight at the Cornucopia. That is probably what they are doing right now."

Hermione nodded and watched the group of Durmstrang tributes gather together. They glanced over at Hermione and Eleta, sniggering. Even from afar she could hear the word, "Mudblood." She narrowed her eyes. She could feel the hot anger quickly rising within her.

"Careers are always very proud," said Eleta. "They look down on people of 'inferior' blood status. They think that we are weak."

"Well," said Hermione bitterly. "I think it's time that they learned the truth."

She stood up and marched over to Station 1, her wand clutched tightly in her right hand. The laughter of the Durmstrang careers increased as she got closer. She ignored it and walked past them, into the center of Station 1, where the manikins were.

Without hesitation, she aimed her wand at one. She blocked out the mocking of the careers and concentrated on her spell. Closing her eyes, she yelled, "Sectumsempra!"

There was another, agonized scream and the manikin disintegrated into black dust. The Training Center became silent. Hermione looked from the careers, who had stopped jeering and were staring at her in surprise, to Eleta who was smiling and then, to the black pile of dust.

So that was what she'd be doing in a few days. The only difference was that she wouldn't be destroying manikins, she would be slaughtering people. Was that what it was like to kill? So simple? So quick?

The other tributes had started to resume their own training. Hermione headed back to Eleta.

"That was amazing," said Eleta. "Everyone was very stunned."

"Thank you," replied Hermione. "I just couldn't stand it. I've stayed quiet for all these years. If I'm going to die, I want to show them…"

Her voice trailed off. She realized that one person was still watching her from the corner of Station 3. It was the Slytherin male tribute, Draco Malfoy. His face was impossible for her to read, but she knew that he was staring at her. She glared at him, and he turned away.

"What is it?" asked Eleta, sounding concerned.

"Nothing," said Hermione. "Just another stuck-up pureblood staring at me."

She wasn't exactly sure how accurate that statement was. True, she hadn't really gotten to know Draco, and he hadn't seemed too keen on being picked as a tribute, which was quite different from the way a snobbish pureblood would react, but she suppressed those thoughts. Now wasn't the time to make friends with a pureblood tribute from Gryffindor's rival house.

"He's an enemy," she thought. "They're all enemies."

That was the best attitude to have in the Games, wasn't it? Everyone was a foe. Only one tribute could win, right?

But Hermione did not want to have that attitude.