Author's Note: Hi, it's me again! So sorry about this guys! Just leaving the note to let you know that I have NOT abandoned and it's probably just writer's block/college stress getting the best of me. (: But I shall move forward! Thank you to everyone who has read and stayed loyal. You're amazing and your reviews have all made me smile so wide. It means the world to me. This is just a small update since it's been so long since I've given you one. The interviews are coming up next, then training, and then we'll get into the Arena. I'm sorry if it feels like it's taking too long or dragging. I'm trying my best. This adds a bit of dynamic but think of it as a teaser. I know I said that for the last one. We'll be having a lot of teasers? I'll edit them all together later. (: Thanks!

"How do you feel about fire, Harry?" Ginny asked as she ran her fingers through his hair, staring at both of their reflections in the mirror of the changing room that Sirius had ushered them into quickly and making a face that brought the smallest of smiles to Harry's own lips.

"Dunno," he responded. "It's hot. Burns things. It's flame-y." Ginny chuckled and he swatted her hand away. "I'm not afraid of it or anything if that's what you're asking. Why? Do you plan on seeing if Malfoy and I really can be reborn from our ashes?"

"Maybe," came the playful response and suddenly Harry found his grin slipping from his face. "But let's get you dressed first, Mr. Potter. Before we start worrying about turning you to ash."

He was starting to figure out that getting him dressed was always going to be sort of a tall order. While his outfit coming into the Center wasn't particularly complex, it was still exceptionally nice and taking it off felt like handling a suit made from china. He didn't want to grasp it too harshly for fear of tearing or wrinkling and his style team didn't have the same worries. What resulted was a little bit of a struggle, Harry trying to be delicate with something nice while his style team just tried to tear it off of him as quickly as possible. They did have a limited amount of time, after all, to get him dressed and in the chariot and then back to change and prep for his interview and then of course out to the actual interview again. It was all very complicated and Harry didn't understand why they had to be running around all the time but Cho just tried to explain to him that it was all publicity, publicity, publicity. The more Harry ran around, the more people were able to catch a glimpse of him, size him up before he ever got on screen. For reasons he couldn't put his finger on, this made him very uncomfortable. But it at least got him to stop fighting every time the style team moved to rip an article of clothing off of his body.

But getting him undressed was only the half of it. Thankfully they'd already done all the paint, all the cleaning on the train, though that didn't stop them from touching up his swirls and scrubbing and refining bare patches of skin anyway. Then they got to work on his hair, trying to get the messy bits to lay flat (and inevitably failing and moving on only when Ginny said it was fine) and working the rest back so that he looked a little windswept. As if he were already rushing down the lane in the chariot and the wind was just naturally pushing his hair back. Copious amounts of spray kept the look in place as they shuffled him around and up and down trying to make sure that it would keep, and when they were done pushing and prodding at his hair, Ginny walked in with a black outfit on a hangar and a pair of combat boots.

And that was when Harry got at his most uncomfortable. He knew that people tried to sexualize their tributes in order to gain sponsors - "sex sells" was something that Sirius told Harry year after year after year as they watched the opening ceremonies together and studied what each tribute was put into. People were interested in the healthy curves and muscles of who they were about to see and if the tribute didn't have that, they tried hard to make it look like they at least could. The suit that Ginny brought in just then was shiny - reflective, like plastic - and it looked a lot...tighter than anything Harry had previously tried to put on. His mind immediately flashed to an image of he and Draco wearing these suits just for Ginny to have them burn off or something similar and turn to ash. Like coal. Like the mines. He grimaced. He didn't think he could "do" naked in front of an audience.

"Oh don't give me that look," Ginny chastised when she noticed the wince, handing him the hangar. "I promise whatever running's through that skull of yours is not nearly as bad as what it is. Just put the suit on, slip on the boots, and I'll explain the rest on the way."

He didn't argue; what was the point of arguing? He just took the suit and stripped his robe there in the room. He had no shame about his body; he didn't want to be naked in front of the entire nation, sure, but he still had no shame about his body, especially with the people who had spent the last few hours getting into every crevice of it. Ginny watched him with a slightly bemused smile as he pulled the black fabric onto his body. As predicted, it was skin-tight. There was very little separation between fabric and skin and though there was thankfully a cupped, hardened area near his crotch so it didn't hug everything that it could have, it didn't leave much to the imagination. After lacing up the combat boots, it looked very much like he had just been painted black and given a cup and shoes to wear. His arms, however, were also kept bare - probably so that the audience could see the swirls that painted his skin.

"Come on," Ginny ushered as he took his time lacing the boots. "We've got to meet Mr. Malfoy and Astoria in about...thirty seconds ago. Huh." She lurched forward suddenly and grabbed his shoulder. "You can finish tying later. Cho, grab his cape. I still have to explain about the fire."

The fire. Great. He was going to be naked. He could just feel it. Naked and in a cape. The only comfort he reaped from that fact was that he was not going to have to suffer through it alone.

He didn't ask, though, for fear of confirming this disaster of a prediction. He just walked, willing the loose ties on his shoes not to come free less he trip or something else stupid. The world needed to see him as frightening. It was hard to be frightened by someone who tripped over his own laces.

He followed Ginny to the elevator only to hear her swear when it opened and was open. "They must already be down there," she said, pulling Harry into the elevator with her (he was starting to get really sick of being pulled around). "Harry, dear, hit the button for the ground floor. Right there on the bottom." He did as instructed but didn't say anything. He feared the harsh words that rested on the very tip of his tongue. "I'm sorry for the rush, Harry, normally we'd have much more time but your hair is just impossible and then Astoria and I just HAD to have this idea with the capes and - oh the capes, where is Cho?" As if right on cue, the small brunette slipped into the elevator right before the doors closed, a wrapped hangar in hand. "Oh there you are, dear," Ginny continued. "Wonderful. Now, Harry, what Cho has here is a cape. It's black like your suit and made of the same substance - notice, it breathes slightly and it's completely non-flammable. It won't burn in a fire." It wouldn't? He could feel his countenance ease. Not naked. He was not going to be naked. Thank Merlin. "The cape, however, unlike your suit has been soaked in a chemical solution that will allow for it to react with a flame that Astoria and I have created. Don't worry. It won't burn you. It will just give the effect of you being on fire." She beamed at him and, not sure what kind of reaction she was expecting, Harry just smiled back. "Get it? Like coals! They catch on fire and then what do they do?"

"Turn to ash?" Harry suggested, his mind flickering back to the naked idea, and Ginny swatted the back of his head.

"They burn red hot, Harry," she said. "You'll see what I mean."

He hoped so. Because really all this fashion stuff went right over Harry's head; he didn't know the first thing about any of it and with what it sounded like, it was FAR more complicated than he ever expected. He wished he could dive right back into that old suit jacket that he wore at the Reaping. It wasn't made of fancy fabric that would catch fire and not burn, but at least it was familiar.

The elevator made a soft noise as they reached the ground floor and the doors opened to a rush of cool air and noise. All of the twenty-three other tributes were standing around waiting and talking while outside, the street was being cleared and chariots were being set up. Draco and Astoria were lurking to the side on the left of the room near the elevator, just talking, and when Ginny, Harry, and Cho made their entrance into the room, a look of complete relief came over Astoria's features. "I thought you weren't going to make it for one terrifying second," she gushed, cupping Ginny's cheeks in her hands and kissing her on the apple of each. "I was just telling Draco here about my fears and he said Harry was probably being difficult-" At this, Harry glared at Draco who just gave a shrug in response, "-and I just feared that wasn't the case and it was just something trivial like a discussion about the suit."

"Hair," Ginny explained and Astoria gave her a look as though she understood completely and it was then that Harry was able to take in what his fellow tribute was wearing. Basically the same thing - they kept the bronze on his skin and other than a few bronze specks that littered his torso, he was in the exact same garb that Harry himself was, though definitely looking more thin than muscular and with an air of complete resentment in being stuck in such an outfit. While the two girls blabbed away, Draco looked at Harry with a smirk and repeated, "Hair?"

Harry shrugged. He didn't know how to respond to that without getting an argument started and if he remembered correctly, Sirius wanting them at least acting like friends. Thankfully, then Ginny and Astoria turned around and they got to situating the actual capes.

They were heavy. Harry felt himself sag backwards for a second before he regained his ground and he actually reached out to help Draco stay upright. Whatever chemical they had been soaked in evidently didn't want to come out and while that was good for not getting burned, it wasn't so good for say, walking. "You won't be walking though, dearests," Astoria commented when Harry pointed it out. "You'll be standing in a chariot and you'll look radiant." He doubted it but since Ginny refused to light the capes until right before their chariot left, he supposed he would just have to listen to them. The thing was, though, he had very little else to do before it was their turn to take the stage than listen to Ginny and Astoria. They were just full of information. About how to act. How to present themselves. What the capes would feel like.

"You must remember not to fidget too much with the capes or they'll fall off," Ginny was saying and then Astoria would chime in with, "And don't worry if the flames go out, the heat will retain in the capes and turn them red."

"Like coals," Ginny piped up, smiling at Harry.

"Yes, of course like coals," Astoria grinned in response.

"And remember to act like friends."

"The best of friends. Hold hands, actually, if you could-"

"Don't give us that look, it looks really good to the press."

"-and smile! You both have such lovely smiles and it'd be a shame not to share them."

"Because we have so much to smile about," Draco griped, vocalizing exactly what Harry was thinking but if the women noticed his bitterness, they didn't say anything. They just advised to stay positive and try to have fun with it; it was the last fun they were going to have until they won, Ginny reminded gravely, so they might as well seize the opportunity.

"That's if we win," Harry corrected quietly and after that they all fell silent until it was time to load the chariot.

"You'll be fine," Ginny said softly while Astoria went to comfort the thestrals that would be pulling them. "Now stand still while I light you."

Harry and Draco exchanged quick, panicked glances. Though Harry trusted his stylist and he had no doubt that Draco trusted his as he had let the damn woman play with his hair for Merlin's sake, one tended to feel a bit of panic before getting set on fire, and their shared look said what they didn't want to speak aloud: I'll pull yours off if you pull off mine. But when they both did actually go up in flames, Harry scarcely felt a thing. There was a hot rush up his back and for a moment he reached out for Draco's cape but it faded after a moment into a gentle almost tickling sensation. He grabbed Draco's arm instead and murmured that he should help him up and into the chariot.

When they were finally situated and the panic had settled, Harry had to admit - the effect the flames gave was sort of cool. Since he couldn't study his own reflection, he studied his partner's and it was...it was brilliant. The flames reflected off the suit and the flamed pattern that adorned Draco's pale skin and with the throwaway look of his hair, he looked like he just was the flame. Like...like a phoenix. As though to confirm this idea, at the last minute Ginny handed something up to Draco and said, "Don't forget to hold hands." When Harry looked at his partner next, he was pinning a phoenix pin to the shoulder of his suit and leaned over to do the same for Harry.

"Scared, Potter?" he said quietly as he adjusted the pin, a smirk creeping up onto his features.

"You wish," Harry responded without missing a beat and Draco gave a genuine chuckle. The chariot lurched as their time to enter the square finally came and with a final shove from Ginny, she finally got the two to lace their fingers together and plant smiles on their faces. Well, Harry thought as the chariot began moving and he squeezed Malfoy's hand tighter to keep himself upright, here goes nothing.

The sound from the crowd was deafening. For a moment, just a moment, Harry shrunk away from it, and then just like that he was standing tall again and it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that he heard a bark-like laugh come from his companion at how startled he was. There were people everywhere. Standing in the streets being held back by force-field like walls, in stands, surrounding them on both sides and in the back and in front on archways that extended across the street. There were torches lit, soft light, and the click of cameras lit up the stands, but even with the relative light, it just took Harry glancing over at Draco to know that the pair of them lit up the street as the thestrals galloped through the crowd. Harry kept Ginny's notes in mind and smiled widely, especially when he started hearing his and Draco's names being chanted, people calling to them, wanting them to notice them. Without trying, they drew attention to themselves, and with trying, they kept that attention and for a moment, Harry realized what Ginny and Astoria had just done for them. It wasn't just a statement - a statement saying that if you burn us, we'll just rise from the ashes - it was also a chance. A chance to be noticed. A chance to stand out. A chance to, for once, be remembered for more than just a giant rule change in the Hunt. A chance at sponsors and likability, a chance to be...adored. A chance to survive.

They were being showered by the light of candles, by the petals of roses and other flowers, of money and candy and praise. The fact that people tried to find their names was alone something spectacular and even though at that moment Harry was clinging to the hand of the person he felt the most sick around about to enter one of the most gruesome events he had ever heard of before in his life, he could see where Ginny could get the idea that they could have fun. Because at that moment, he didn't just look radiant; he felt it. He exchanged smiles with Draco and then the pair of them lifted their entwined fingers to the crowd as if to say here we are. And we're here to stay. The crowd went wild.

When the chariot came to a halt at the end of the lane, completing the semi-circle of tributes with Draco and Harry in the very center, their capes went out, the chemical having burned off slightly and leaving as explained a hot red glow that made Harry feel warm in the night air. His face hurt from all the smiling but he kept it up until the crowd quieted down and President Riddle took the stage. And like that, Harry went from feeling radiant to feeling like a piece of coal about to get thrown into a red hot fire. And though he didn't need to hold Draco's hand, he didn't let go. He just squeezed tighter and felt a bit of relief when he felt some returned pressure.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the President spoke, and his voice was high, almost like the hiss of a snake, and an eery, lazy sort of smile adorned his lips. "Please welcome the twenty-fourth tributes of the fifty-sixth annual Witch Hunt!"

The crowd went wild again and the President took his seat, his duty done. As he sat back, another man with skittish eyes and an awkward countenance jumped out of his own seat, his eyes darting every which way as though he was terrified to be addressing the crowd. As the noise died down a bit, though, he seemed to collect himself and beneath the turban that covered most of his head, Harry was able to recognize him as Quirinus Quirrell, a Gamemaker that had became quite popular through the years for his creative ideas and unique taskplanning skills that added a bit of spice to the Hunts he was most a part of. "L-Ladies and g-gentleman," he started, his voice cracking a bit and he paused for a moment to clear his throat. "Pardon me. Ladies and gentlemen of Districts One through Twelve. We welcome you to our humble city." The crowd erupted and Quirrell jumped; Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes and hoped it didn't show on camera. Beside him, Draco smiled softly. "In just a few short hours, we will join you on stage with the legendary Gilderoy Lockhart to get to know a little about each of you and what you will bring to our Hunt this year. In the spirit of unity, authority, and courage, we welcome you. And may the odds be ever in your favor."

The crowd screamed. They cheered. Music played and the chariots lurched forward again into a new building where Harry knew he would be dolled up even further and made to give a five minute interview on live television. And though he should have felt as he did before - free, radiant, untouchable - instead he just felt a cold chill run through his body. It was hard to be reminded why they were there - and in the spirit of unity, authority, and courage his ass! They were there out of fear. Fear of another rebellion. Fear of the fall of the Ministry. Fear of someone finally standing up like District Thirteen had done so many years ago and the end of the Hunt being realized. He glanced over at Draco to see if his sentiments were shared but the other man's face had again fallen into an unreadable mask. Feeling a bit rejected, Harry looked away and gave a few final waves before the chariot disappeared under the rooftop of the new building.