Dashing into the thick of things, you realize that everyone is panicking, though showing their fears in many different ways. You hear screams from all angles even though no one has even grabbed a wand yet. Some have barely moved from their platforms, too fearful of what might await them if they were to join you in the fight for weapons or too fearful to wander out into the surroundings around this golden horn of plenty. Everyone else runs somewhere – the most cowardly idiots get out while you and the other fighters go for the tools you may need to survive.

Punching a Ravenclaw girl along the way, you make it across the expanse in order to greet your keys to survival. Grabbing the closest club, you swing it to your left with all of your might and knock out the same Ravenclaw girl whom you had just repelled from the golden horn. You look and see that part of her skull has a weird shape, a concave type of structure. Blood leaks through her black hair and her used-to-be pretty face has no expression. A cannon shot accompanies this observation of yours.

Upon seeing the dark red liquid slowly flow from her head, some of your fellow tributes turn back and begin running for the forest, the field, or the cliffs to your right. No one wants to be near you, you realize with glee. As long as no one else has access to wands, it all comes down to a battle of brute strength.

And then obviously, you win.

You barely notice that others fall among you – a few splats of bodies slamming against the ground, a cannon shot here and there, and some more shrieks. Some have reached the golden horn before you and ran away with supplies. But you don’t care because – congratulate yourself – you yourself have just reached the cornucopia.

You begin going for whatever you see. A belt? Add a sword and two hammers in and you could take off three people’s heads if you managed to throw them all at the same time. Oh, and a wand since you never know when you might need to duel even though you have a decent chance of losing that. You also grab two packs of supplies, both of them holding food that would last you throughout your stay in the arena.

As you begin inspecting the clubs for one with spikes and one that was relatively light, you hear a scolding voice near you. “Goyle, you don’t really need to bring all of that. This arena is ours to rule – put some back.”

You look up and, as expected, Malfoy is practically sitting inside the golden horn, fishing through some packs for some reason. He does so leisurely, not even bothering to glance around at who may be approaching.

“Are we staying here?” you ask, looking at him for guidance.

Malfoy smirks at you. “Of course we are…if you’re going to help us.”

Should you:
A.) Make an alliance with Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, and Pansy Parkinson
Or
B.) Go it alone