It takes a while for her to stop hyperventilating enough to answer, because she keeps holding it in and then cracking a few seconds later. The fact that she doesn't cry very often makes it even harder to stop once she's started, but she finally wipes her eyes after a few moments - enough time to shake her head, at least. It's another few moments before she clears her throat again, feeling pain that orients her like it so often does. "Someone gave me something to eat and I forgot about the war. And I was happy. Until I remembered."

The memories came rushing back - how she'd danced with Jason, and kissed Peeta, which was something else she didn't want to face so Katniss pushes the thought away. One hand pulls at her hair roughly, clumsily trying to shove it back into its usual braid but failing miserably. But her hands need something to do, even if the semi-arranged features on her face are close to crumpling again.

Katniss wonders why he cares. Why he's taken the time to bring her to this house. No doubt Harry would say something along the lines of it being right, but Katniss has long since given up on seeing righteousness in people.