I don't own Harry Potter or The Hunger Games!
Hermione's Pov
When the elevator reached the bottom of the Training Centre, it opened out into the gymnasium, a vast room probably seventy metres in length, if not longer. It had a high ceiling with a vast array of bright white lights illuminating the dark floor, and I noticed several viewing platforms overlooking the room, where a small number of purple-robed Gamemakers had already gathered. Around the room were various racks of weapons and obstacle courses, Capitol attendants standing patiently beside each one.
"Good luck, everyone!" Marie said cheerily as she bustled her tributes out of the elevator into the gymnasium, before taking her leave as I led my fellow Gryffindors further into the room.
In the centre of the room, the tributes of the other three houses had already gathered around a tall Capitol woman who swiftly introduced herself as Atala, the head trainer, and proceeded to explain the training schedule. There are various stations around the room that teach a variety of activities, from survival skills to fighting techniques. There will be experts available for tuition at each station, if needed. Tributes are free to visit whatever station they please at any time. Should we wish to practice our skills with a partner, there are assistants available at each station, as combat with other tributes is strictly prohibited.
As Atala goes on to read out the long list of stations available around the room, I begin to take a look around the room, not only at the environment he was in but at his fellow tributes. This was the first time since the start of his journey through the Games that all twenty-four tributes had been gathered together in one place, and he was able to look at his former classmates in a new light, trying to work out who the threats would be. Of course, he was instantly wary of anyone athletic, but thankfully there weren't many sixth-years in the Hogwarts Quidditch teams, so that didn't narrow things down much. Instead, he just started to work his way around the circle of tributes, picking out threats himself. Michael Corner, a boy who Harry had never really got along with since he had been Ginny Weasley's boyfriend during the previous school year, looked like the most dangerous of the Ravenclaws, and while many of the Hufflepuffs looked intimidated or nervous of the tributes around them, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie MacMillan seemed to have a steely resolve that almost caught me by surprise.
And, of course, she was suspicious of anyone from Slytherin. He had always thought Malfoy would be a threat, especially since their heated conversation in the Remake Centre the night before, but for the first time he really appreciated that his rival was no longer flanked by the usual goons, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Perhaps it was a small mercy that Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini were chosen to represent Slytherin alongside him. Nott was a tall, gangly boy who Harry had occasionally saw hanging around with Malfoy around school, and although they had rarely spoke to each other he knew there was no good feeling between them. Thanks to Me, Harry, Ron and the other members of the D.A., Nott's father had been one of the Death Eaters caught by the Ministry in the Department of Mysteries the previous summer, and he now faced a lifetime's incarceration in Azkaban prison.
Of Zabini, I knew little; like Myself and Harry, Blaise had been a member of the Slug Club, an elitist dinner club run by Professor Slughorn that year at Hogwarts, but Harry had never paid him much attention. He was tall and sturdily-built, dark-skinned and with high cheekbones and icy, slanting eyes. Lurking next to Malfoy, the way he held himself reminded myself of Finnick; he knew Iwas attractive, and made sure everyone else knew it, too. Arrogant and vain, I thought of him as a quieter version of Draco Malfoy.
Eventually, Atala released the young witches and wizards to train, but for a moment everyone stood in the middle of the room silently, unsure where to go first. Then Malfoy strode off towards the swords station, Zabini sauntering behind him, and everyone began to disperse. Soon, only Me, Ron and Harry were left alone in the centre of the room.
"So," Ron said, looking around at the myriad options the three of them had. "Where first?"
"I don't suppose it matters," I replied. "If we've got three days, we'll be able to have a go at everything we need to."
"In which case, I'd like to get my hands on the biggest weapon I can find," Ron said, and disappeared off towards the spears and javelins kept at the far end of the room. Harry started to follow him, but I held him back.
"You really think that's going to work?" I asked Harry. "I mean, look at us. We're not the tallest or the strongest, so there's no point going for spears or axes or any of that. It doesn't matter whether we try or not, there will be other people better at throwing spears than us, simply because they're stronger. Like Ron. We're going to need something that requires a little more skill to use. Something will a little finesse."
And so Harry found himself being dragged towards the archery station.
The expert on hand was more than willing to help the two Gryffindors, who were the first pair to approach him that day. He handed Harry and Me a pair of white curved bows, which felt feather-light in their hands, and ran through the basics with them before leaving them to practice on the small target range at the back of the gym.
Harry had expected that he would be able to get the hang of archery quickly, that he would be able to master the target range easily, but there was more to archery than he had thought. It wasn't just about how well he could aim the bow, it depended on how firm his grip was, how he balanced the bow in his hands, how tightly he pulled the bowstring, the angle of release... There was just so much he had to concentrate on. Twenty minutes in, and he had barely hit anything but the closest target.
I, however, had taken to archery very well indeed, and although her accuracy was not terrific, she had at least managed to hit every target, even managing to put an arrow into the very edge of the furthest target, forty metres away. Harry tried to watch my stance, copy the way that I lined up her shot, but try as he might, he couldn't replicate her position well enough to improve much more. Frustratedly, he stood by and watched as she unloaded another quiver of arrows towards the variety of targets, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. When she finally turned around to collect more arrows, I paused as I noticed Harry watching Me.
"What's the matter?" I asked him, noticing the bow hanging loosely in his hand by his side.
"I can't do it," Harry replied bluntly. "You're so much better at this than I am." He sighed softly. "It's like you've done this before."
"You mean you haven't?" I asked.
"No," Harry said. "Why would I have?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. My parents took me to do archery at this place near my house a few times when I was younger. I haven't been for years, though. I sort of assumed, having grown up with Muggles like I did, that you might have."
Harry laughed softly. "We never went anywhere unless Dudley wanted to," he said. "And you really think he'd want to spend an afternoon shooting arrows when there were video games he could play?"
"No, I guess not," I smiled. After a pause, I added. "Well, I guess archery isn't for everyone. Maybe you should try something else? It could be more useful than battling on here."
The expert, who had been standing by passively, moved towards them as Harry handed back his bow. "If I were in your position," I said, replacing the bow on the rack beside Me, "I would go and find something that suits your strengths. What are you best at?"
For a moment, Harry was flung back into a memory of Professor Moody - at least, the person he thought was Professor Moody - asking him the same thing two and a half years ago, when he was about to face a dragon in the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. The memory, and the other memories it brought with it, were so overwhelming for a few moments that Hermione had to answer for him.
"He's quick," I said. "And he's agile. He's got good reflexes, and he's a quick decision-maker when he's in a tight spot."
"Well, perhaps close combat might be a better option for you," the expert predicted. "Short swords, maybe. Or perhaps knives and daggers."
Harry looked over at the swords station, where Draco Malfoy was still sparring with an assistant. The fluidity of his movements and the ease and grace with which he held the weapon gave away that he was clearly no beginner, either.
Does everyone have some sort of secret ability? Harry thought to himself as his gaze moved over to the knives station, where Neville and Pansy Parkinson were both practicing independently.
"I'll give daggers a try," Harry said, trying to be optimistic, and he bid Me farewell, walking across the room to the knives station.
I continue doing archery. It turns out I was good at it
Taking a seat at the lunch table between Ron and Harry, I recounted the morning with his friends, and listened to Ron telling him about his success at the spears station.
"Well, at least we all have something we're reasonably good with," I concluded happily. "And we've still got two and a half days of training left."
"We're not guaranteed to get those weapons, though, are we?" Ron asked her.
"No. Like I said earlier, all the weapons get stacked up at the Cornucopia, where the Games begin. There's a massive free-for-all as everyone fights over choice supplies at the start of the Games."
"So there's a good chance we won't get what we want?"
"Sadly, yes," l replied sullenly.
"We'd better just give everything a go, then," Ron said, and Harry nodded. "You going to join us this afternoon, Hermione?"
"No," I said, glaring over at the table next to her, where the Slytherins, led by Nott and Malfoy, were trying their hardest to rile her up with crass comments and inappropriate gestures. "I've been thinking-"
"No surprises there," Ron said, laughing when I turned my glare on him.
"Anyway, I was going to say that there is so much more to the Games than being able to fight. Whatever hostile environment we get thrown into, we're going to need to be able to keep ourselves alive. It doesn't matter how well we can defend ourselves if we end up starving, or freezing to death. I think I need to visit the survival stations to get as many tips as possible, just to make sure we don't get caught out by the environment."
"Well, it's better you than us," Ron said through a mouthful of sandwich. "You'll remember more than we will."
"I was hoping that you two would join me," I admitted. "But if you two think that it'll be too boring and you'd rather lob weapons about or whatever, then by all means, go and do that instead."
She had been trying to convince the other two to join her at the survival stations, and Harry was almost willing to go with her, but Ron had completely missed her subtle hints.
"Don't worry about it, we'll just learn it all from you later," he said, rising from the table. "Come on, Harry, let's go and try the axes."
And so the trio had departed in different directions for the afternoon sessions, with Harry and Ron trying a variety of different weapons while I studied furiously at the survival stations. Throughout the afternoon, Harry and Ron tried axes, spears, swords, maces, bows (again) and a variety of other, more unusual weapons, but Harry never found anything he was quite so natural with as the daggers he had used that morning. Ron, however, seemed quite versatile, and was able to adapt reasonably well to everything.
That evening, when reporting back to their mentors on their progress at dinner, Katniss and Finnick were delighted with how things had gone for the trio, and were glad to see that they had learned a lot. Over the course of the meal, I was once again with a book in my lap, this time one that Katniss had fetched for me from a nearby library; a guide for detecting poisonous plants.
"You understand that it's a risk to just let her learn everything and assume she'll be there for you?" Finnick told Harry over dinner.
"Hermione will do fine," Harry said confidently. "She can look after herself."
"I never doubted that," Finnick said. "I just know that you two seem to be completely reliant on her knowledge."
"Says the Career tribute," Katniss says, nudging Finnick. "You never bothered to learn a thing about survival skills yourself. You just relied on sponsor support, and I'm sure they will, too. Harry and Hermione got a lot of attention at the opening ceremonies last night. If their interviews are anywhere near half-decent, enough people will get behind them to give them a helping hand when they need it," she told him confidently. "They'll be fine."
"Yeah," Ron said, sitting up a little taller in his seat. "We'll be fine."