The Games That Weren't Won
Hey, this is RawrDaLion and this is basically a twist of my favourite characters from everything that I can think of in the Hunger Games! But part 2, when they met The Doctor. RAWR! :D

Chapter 2- Doctor?
She sat at her bland tent, staring up at the glimmering stars shooting at the darkened sky like a gun. Nothing compared to a starry night in the most dangerous world, where 10 minutes on your own would sacrifice your soul to the Death Keepers. If anyone could appreciate this incredible miracle that she was blessed to see, they were happy.
She was lost in a dark hurricane of her thoughts when a familiar freckled sweetheart cast himself down on the rocks next to her. He sat, looking at Hermione's bushy mane, and her nails climbing around. When she noticed his staring, she lay her hands down on the mud next to his, and he took them in his.
"It's hard." he said seriously, and she looked at him. The boy with the dirt on his nose, that she met in the train leading to her future, could read her thoughts so well, could telepathically understand her emotions stuffed in her heart, and make her feel better instantly.
"It's so hard for you, compared to me and Harry. At least Harry didn't know his family, and I clung onto mine too hard, but they made it through. Yours..." he broke off and tears welled up in her dark eyes. He rubbed her hands comfortingly and she started hyperventalating. Her head laid on his shoulder, and he rested his on hers.
But grief is a funny thing. It is horrible, and you wished you could live without it, but if you did you would not make it through your life. Determination would disappear, and no one would have a reason any more, you would not know the success of your performance. Life would be ruined without your grief.
A rustle broke the tears. Insticts took over the young wizard and witch as they whipped their wands out and pointed them out at the source of the noise. It rustled, but ever more slightly, as if testing their limit of provocativity. A blue light peeked out, scanning them and judging them, are they trustworthy? It edged out ever so slightly, from the rustling leaves, and came level with their faces, leaving them with an urge to pull it out. More rustling continued; a leg flung out of the bushes sharply, like a violent hokey-pokey. Another thrust out, giving them a chance to see some smart-looking trousers, followed by a playful-looking man with a jolly grin on his face.
It was good to see a reassuring face such as this, and it made them smile with the fact that a jolly person was in the same world that they were in, where the authority kill for fun, and you have to rely on strangers for protection. Hope was their reason