Dimensional {Harry Potter/Hunger Games}

Chapter 5 (Hunger Games)

To be completely honest, all of the mentors were quite stunned as they had watched the one of the final two tributes become a victor. This girl from District 10, who had earned the title of "the Lost Tribute" while in the arena, had just become the luckiest tribute to be named a victor in the Hunger Games. She had never come in contact with another tribute (except for once during the first day's blood bath), had never shed any blood during her time, was never attacked by anything sent at her by the gamemakers and had never killed a single person. Quite frankly, from what Finnick could see—and was also feeling, everyone was shocked to the point of speechlessness. Cognac, the girl's mentor, was the first to speak. He cleared his throat and allowed his amber gaze to sweep across the room.

"Well, I guess it seems District 10 has its first female victor now."

And with that he walked briskly towards the elevators and exited the room. The rest of the mentors followed his lead, leaving Finnick to let his thoughts wander to his own tribute he had mentored this year, Annie. She had been a pretty red-head with clear green eyes. He had found this sixteen year old girl quite cute, but deep down he had known from the start that she had little to no chance to survive these games. She had been fine-boned and thin, along with a very timid personality. He could already tell that she was going to crack under the tremendous amount of pressure that lay on every tribute in the games, and he was right. After only two days of being on edge, her mental stability had shattered into a million pieces. She had been driven insane by knowing that there were multiple other people out there somewhere in the arena wanting to slit her throat. This had ultimately been her downfall, as she was brutally murdered by the male from District 3. The boy had allowed the broken girl to bleed out until her heart stopped, he hadn't even made her inevitable death quick and painless; no, he allowed her to suffer even though she had never been a threat nor had she the ability to fight back. This is what set Finnick off the most, the fact that many of the tributes had died slow and miserable deaths from hypothermia and frost bite in the frozen arena. The only death that Finnick had enjoyed, as sickening as it sounds, had been the death of that ruthless boy from 3. He had killed many of the kids, including Annie, and he had thought he had the win after decapitating one more, but he had been outlasted by a girl from 10 as he died soon after his body temperature plummeted. This gave Finnick a slight sense of revenge for Annie's death, knowing that her killer hadn't emerged victorious, and it made him feel even a little bit better knowing that the victor of the 68th Hunger Games had won without killing a single soul.

-

Liv's eyelids felt extremely heavy as she barely managed to open her eyes. Once she became aware that she was no longer shivering in an igloo, her body seemed to come awake immediately. Her eyes no longer felt heavy as she shot up from the hard bed she was lying on, heavy fleece blankets falling to the floor. Liv felt her body start to become aware of the heat that was radiating off her body after being wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. Hurriedly tearing them off of her and chucking them across the room, Liv was sweating profusely once she finally found herself sitting on the bed with only her thick robe on. Usually she would've found the plush fabric of the robe enjoyable, but at the moment it was sweltering and felt like it was burning her skin on contact. Seeing no other choice and getting desperate, she tore the robe off her pale body. Surprisingly, after spending all that time in the arena, knowing that people were watching her freeze to death, Liv didn't feel body conscious at all. In fact, she actually welcomed the idea of someone walking in on her like this because that would only mean that she was alive. Liv reached out her arm to grab the glass of water that was sitting on her bedstand, when she noticed how stiff her fingers were. Pulling her hand back to her, she examined the tips of her fingers, pinching each one individually to test the feeling in them. Each time she was met with a dull sensation and upon further examination she noticed that some of her fingers had a faint purple-ish bruise color to them. This realization only led to her sighing in defeat; she knew there was nothing she could do to revive the frostbitten parts of her fingers. It was something was just going to have to live with, a constant reminder of her time playing the Capitol's games. Liv was just reaching for the glass of water again, when her door flew open and her stylists burst into her room, tackling her in a hug.