The Calm Before the Storm
I kept my eyes glued to the forest floor, scanning for any dry twigs, leaves, or branches we could gather to kindle a fire. Meanwhile, Harry surveyed the perimeter with vigilant eyes, ensuring our safety. Over the past two weeks, the tension between us had settled into an uneasy normalcy. Yet, there were moments when I instinctively recoiled, as if an invisible barrier still stood between us. The memory of what I perceived as his betrayal remained vivid, refusing to fade with time.
"Found some dry wood," I called out, keeping my voice low.
The sun was setting now, painting the sky in dangerous shades of orange and purple. Night would be here soon. Those two weeks dragged on like two years since everything went down with Draco and his group. We hadn't caught even a glimpse of them, which should have been a relief. Yet, the absence of cannon fire left me uneasy, my stomach tied in knots. In this game, silence could either mean a reprieve or the calm before a storm. As I collected the scattered wood, I often found my thoughts drifting back over the last two weeks. Harry and I had settled into a kind of rhythm— that involved hunting for whatever food the dense forest could offer. I began instructing him in the art of knife throwing; he was improving with each attempt, though I'd never let him know that. In return, he shared his wider knowledge of edible plants, grown from finding out the hard way what was safe and what was not, insights that my well-thumbed books could never teach me. We scaled towering trees to gain better vantage points, our eyes sweeping over the vast wilderness like sentinels. Each evening, we crafted fires in different spots. Despite the persistent doubts that lingered in my mind, we had become something of a team, bound by nothing but a mutual desire to survive. Or so I told myself.
This was the first night we'd allowed ourselves to truly rest. I watched Harry arrange the kindling, his movements precise from what was obviously years of practice. The fire sparked to life, casting shadows across his face.
"It doesn't make sense," I said finally, voicing the thought that had been plaguing me. "Two weeks without a single cannon."
Harry's hands stilled.
"Maybe they're laying low, like us."
"Draco doesn't lay low," I countered, wrapping my arms around my knees. "You know that better than anyone."
"Hermione—"
"What if he's planning something?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "What if he's gathering more people? What if—"
"Hey." Harry's voice was soft but firm. "We've survived this long. We're smarter than them, better trained now."
I let out a bitter laugh.
"Better trained? Harry, we've been throwing knives at trees and eating berries for two weeks. They have—"
A blinding flash of lightning tore the sky apart, immediately followed by an earth-shattering crack that I felt skittering along my bones. The tree just thirty feet away exploded into a furious inferno, flames licking hungrily at the rain-soaked air. Harry's eyes locked with mine for a brief, electrifying moment of shared terror before we both sprang to our feet, adrenaline propelling us into frantic motion.
"Run!" he shouted, grabbing my arm.
We abandoned the fire, our supplies, everything except what we carried on us. As we crashed through the underbrush, I couldn't shake the feeling that the lightning hadn't been natural at all.
The sound of our footsteps disappeared beneath another roll of thunder, and I realized with growing dread that our brief moment of peace had come to an end. The cave wasn't much, but it would have to do. Harry checked the perimeter, while I arranged the meager supplies that were in my hands when we ran our practiced routine feeling hollow after our panicked flight through the forest. The lightning strikes had stopped as suddenly as they'd begun, leaving behind an eerie silence broken only by the distant rumble of thunder. My hands were shaking. I clenched them into fists, watching Harry through the dim light filtering through cracks in the walls. He was moving differently—favoring his right side. Must have happened when we were running.
"You're hurt," I said, my voice sharper than I'd intended.
"I'm fine." Classic Harry response. He settled against the wall, still watching the entrance.
"Right. Like you were 'fine' with Draco?"
The words escaped before I could stop them, hanging in the stale air between us. Two weeks of avoided questions bubbled to the surface, and I was too exhausted to hold them back anymore.
"You know what? No. You don't get to shut down this time. I want answers, Harry. Real ones."
He turned to face me, his expression unreadable in the shadows.
"Hermione—"
"Don't 'Hermione' me. You were with them for weeks. Weeks! I watched you change, watched you become one of them. Do you have any idea what that was like?" My voice cracked.
"To watch someone from twelve turn into someone like them? I thought you at least had some honor, Harry."
"I never changed." His voice was quiet but intense. "Everything I did—every single thing—was an act."
"An act?" I laughed bitterly. "You helped them hunt down other tributes. You stood there while they—" I stopped, the memory still too raw.
"While they tortured people for fun?" Harry pushed off from the wall, wincing slightly.
"While they made examples of anyone who tried to fight back? Yeah, I stood there. Because if I hadn't, if I'd blown my cover even once, we wouldn't have known about their plans are. About—" He stopped abruptly, running a hand through his hair.
"About what?"
The silence stretched between us. Outside, the rain began to fall.
"About what they planned to do to you," he finally said. "Draco knew you were the biggest threat to winning. He had it all mapped out—how they were going to break you, use you, and then..." He couldn't finish the sentence.
I felt the blood drain from my face. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"When?" His laugh was hollow.
"During the ten minutes we had before everything went to hell? Or maybe during the past two weeks while we've been running for our lives?"
"You could have trusted me with the truth when both our names were called! That we were on the same side."
At least until there was only two.
"Draco was watching me from the beginning! One wrong move, one suspicious conversation, and—" He cut himself off, taking a deep breath. "I couldn't risk it. I couldn't risk you."
The weight of his words hung in the air. I sank down against the opposite wall, trying to process everything. Thinking about how Harry managed to fool Draco, the man of deception and trickery himself. It must have been so much work, yet he did it all to keep me safe.
"The night it all fell apart," I said slowly. "When you turned on Draco. What changed?"
Harry was quiet for so long I thought he wouldn't answer. "They caught you…I thought it would take longer. That I would have longer to draw them away from you."
He met my eyes.
"I had to choose. Maintain my cover, hope you had a escape plan and maybe save your life again down the line, or blow everything to get you out right then. Wasn't much of a choice, really."
I glanced at him for what seemed like an eternity. I reached out for his hand, threading our fingers together. I knew only one victor come out of this, but if I could fight the dreading thought for as long as I possibly could, so be it.