Chapter 22 ~ Harry

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We all sit at the table awkwardly, sipping our tea. I look at the clock on the oven from in the kitchen; 3:55. Five minutes before we have to start getting ready. I'm deadly nervous, but I don't think anyone is as nervous as Hermione. She's been white as a ghost all day.

"Five more minutes," Ron says, looking at the same oven clock I did.

"God," I hear Hermione say. "I'm so nervous."

"It's fine. They'll love you," I say.

"It's barely the actual interview that's bothering me," she says. "It's my heels."

I blink.

"I can't walk in heels very good; and guess how tall the heels they gave me are?"

"Three inches?" I guess.

"Five inches," she says, stressfully. "I'm going to fall in front of everyone, and I'm going to have severe foot pain for the next week."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," I say, truly wanting to make her feel better but feeling like I'm not much of a help.

"Well, you did fine at the Yule Ball," Ron chimes in, looking at Hermione for one of the first times this week.

"Yeah, and those heels were only an inch tall," she says sassily just as the door opens. Stacy walks in, wearing a spikey red dress that barely covers...anything.

"Well, well, well! There they are! Just sitting there, hanging out and sipping tea!" she says. We all fake smiles.

"The exciting moment has come! Time to get all dazzled up for your interviews!" Stacy cries. My stomach does a summersault, and I suddenly feel like throwing up.

"Let's go!" Stacy says.

She leads us out of our living quarter and into some little room. A dressing room, I'm assuming. There are two other creepy Capitol women waiting for us in there.

"Now Hermione, dear, you're going to go with Maya," Stacy gestures to a short, fat woman wearing a long gown with cheetah print on it. Hermione gives me and Ron a 'help me' look and follows Maya out of the room. Ron and I look at each other and smirk. Poor Hermione.

"Ron, you'll be with Bethany," a woman with dark skin and a tall, bright blue afro smiles and waves to Ron. Ron gives me a horrid look and I try not to laugh. Ron follows Bethany out of the room.

"And, Harry, you're with me!" Stacy cries, holding her arms wide open.

Great. Just great.

Stacy leads me into another door, into a huge walk in closet. I stand there awkwardly as she hums some song, flipping through hangers.

"Here it is!" she squeals. She turns to me, a pile of clothes in her hands.

"Slacks," she says, handing me the folded up pants.

"Suit coat," she says, handing me a heavy, fancy looking thing on a hanger. It feels like velvet, and it's deep black in color.

"Undershirt..." she mutters, handing me a long sleeve collared button up shirt. It's deep purple and I'm immediately confused. Purple? Why purple?

"Waistcoat..." She hands me a black waistcoat. I suddenly get impatient.

"And tie!" she squeals. I take the tie, and it's dark purple, just like my undershirt. It's weird in my opinion, my outfit.

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