halfbloodhill_logs | Covering Bases (Open)

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Covering Bases (Open)

Who: Hermione Granger and whomever happens to cross her path
What: Training/practicing her magic
Where: Near the lake
When: Sunday, August 4th, early evening
Why: Because after the hectic changes that occurred over the last week and a half she doesn't feel like angering any of the other gods

Of course she was secretly smug about the fact that she'd followed the rules this time. She hadn't incurred the wrath of Hera. She did feel slightly sorry for those who had been punished though.

On the other hand, this just pushed Hermione further into the mindset she often waffled on; was she there to learn, or there to make friends and push boundaries? She knew she belonged at Camp because she was a demigod and she knew she was there to train and protect not only her family and others in her home town, but herself.

Her magic was powerful. That much she also knew. Over the last three years that she'd been attending Camp she'd grown stronger and better than she had been as a 13 year old. But she also knew she still had a long way to go. Fire spells and the creation of illusions were impressive, sure, but if she settled for mastering only a few skills where would she be?

She waited until later in the day when the lake was more or less cleared out save for maybe a few of the other campers. They weren't a huge concern though. Not anymore. She was just going to mind her business for once and settle in to recite her incantations and focus on her magic. She's doing her best to keep one eye on her form and one eye on the area around her to ensure nobody sneaks up on her.

Yeah, good luck with that, Granger. It doesn't help that by now it's pretty well-known among her group of acquaintances that she always comes to the same spot.

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"I'm not ignoring facts!" She hated when he was unhappy with her (even though it was fairly often.) They always managed to work through it after a few hours but when he was really upset? She never knew how to deal. She turned away from him so he couldn't see the expression on her face before mirroring his shrug.

"I don't know. If I can't defeat it with magic, then I'll pull back and re-strategize."

That just earned another snort. It didn't even warrant a "you are" or any such thing. Instead he kept his eyes on her and tried to focus. It was difficult because beyond buzzing anger- -well-- why was it like this anyway? He hated when she was mad at him and it wasn't even intentional.

Still, he had to scoff and speak up, "So in other words wing it, eh?"

A pause.

"S'a good thing you've me around."

Edited 2013-08-07 06:38 (UTC)

She didn't even give him a verbal response. Instead, she turned her back on him completely and began to walk away. She had a feeling he would follow her since she was heading for the main area of the camp, but she wasn't going to speak yet.

How dare he. How dare he say such a thing to her. She wasn't a damsel in distress that constantly needed his protection! Didn't he see that he needed her more than the other way around? Hermione had always been a compassionate girl, set to be a protector of the people like her mother and ready to fight those who attacked those she cared about. As she got older, she later came to the conclusion that one of the reasons she was so drawn to Ron was the fact that she could sense it; she could sense his loneliness and his bitterness that came from jumping between families. She could sense his anger and frustration for not being able to do his school work correctly. And she knew she could sense it because she felt the same things.

It always got under her skin when he made comments like that. It wasn't that she didn't trust people, and it wasn't that she didn't want to have close relationships with people. It was simply that she often times took on everything alone so that she could keep people safe. Why should Ron risk his neck to protect her when she was more than capable of surviving? Sure, it wasn't as polished of a plan as one crafted by an Athena kid, but she was clever. She could make things work in her favor.

If Ron was watching her back close enough, he might notice the movement of her shoulders. When she first started walking away, she had been tense and upset, ready to lash out and maybe punch him in the shoulder. As she continued to walk though her shoulders began to slump into defeat and shame even though she refused to look back and see if he was still there.

Yeah. It was a good thing she had him around, but at the same time it terrified her to know that he was almost too loyal to her. She didn't know what to say to him though, arms moving to fold over her chest in a protective sort of manner and eyes trained on the ground.

"...dinner's soon," she said quietly, but that was all she managed before she stopped speaking again and continued walking.

He said it because it was true. Not that he didn't think she was incapable of doing things. That wasn't it. He'd said as much a few minutes prior. But he knew even as a demigod she hated fighting. She avoided it-- she could stick up for herself when she wanted but, really, she was a nurturer. Not the other way around. Not a person who could see the need for someone sacrificing themselves in a battle. She'd always try to find a way around that and sometimes that wasn't possible.

He knew it. And he knew there would come a time where someone was going to die in some battle-- and it was going to be in a way where there was no other option. He could live with that, but he knew she'd hate it and beat herself up. That was why he was there, because at the end of the day when there needed to be someone who understood he was there. If, gods forbid, something had happened and a quest hinged on getting something back he knew she wouldn't be capable of leaving someone to fight if needed.

That was where their differences lie.

Ron knew he needed her, too. That had never been a problem. In the same way, it troubled him knowing how much he needed her. How many she needed to be around or to be safe or to not leave him. All of them, at once, jumbled in his stomach, he needed her for all of them and so much more. They were the reasons he was bound and determined to keep her safe, too, rather or not she liked it. She was home as much as this place was and maybe one day she'd understand that. Maybe. If he could voice it.

Instead, his throat filled with the cottony feeling as, indeed, he did follow her. His footsteps were heavy and his blue eyes bore into her skull. Even here he was a bit of an outcast, wasn't he? Ginger, blue eyes, not being so academic-- he wasn't really like his siblings either. Athena kid, sure, but at least it felt like Hermione belonged with her siblings-- he wasn't really sure about an oddity like him.

What was he even supposed to say or do? H e'd said the truth. Ron was doing it again, and he knew it. That was why he felt so uncomfortable when he took in her posture and heard her words. Even as his stomach rumbled dismally all he could do was clear his throat.

"Yeah, right," he mumbled, letting out a breath. And then, purely on instinct, his feet carried him the few strides closer and he made to grab for her arm.

"--Hermione."

Ron would know better than anyone at this point that sometimes facts could be waved right in Hermione's face and she wouldn't notice or she'd misinterpret things if she was emotionally driven at the moment. It had always been a problem of hers; panic and frustration never seemed to go well with her common sense. Still...she also wouldn't consider herself a nurturer if anyone ever pointed it out. She cared of course. She cared a little too much sometimes, but she was also blunt and she also knew when to point out people's flaws and let them know when things were their own fault. Because of that she was supposed to be better. She was supposed to be someone that had it all together.

Spot on, Ronald. Battles happened. Wars happened, but did death on their side always have to happen? She would have preferred the answer to be no. If she had her way she'd be able to use her gifts for the good of the world to keep demigods safe and the monsters at bay without anyone getting hurt. But she didn't have her way. She knew it, and Ron knew it, but it never made these discussions easier to accept.

Sometimes Hermione thought maybe things between them would be easier if they actually sat down and talked about things. But that required talking, and somehow both of them were not great at deciphering things. Ron had the emotional range of a teaspoon (in her opinion) most of the time, and she always worked under the assumption that she was acting irrationally when she dwelled on her feelings too much. So what if the Aphrodite kids gave her something of an inferiority complex? So what if Ron said things to hurt her feelings? She had to move on, but sometimes it got to be a little much and that's when the yelling started. It was a lot more complicated than she bothered letting on. They were just friends that felt the need to look out for one another...yeah, right.

The truth, as it often does, hurt. It hurt a lot today for reasons she couldn't even explain and she thought it was better to take the flight route than the fight route. She jumps slightly when his hand finds her arm though and she stops even if she isn't facing him.

"I get it, Ron," she said, though the bite that was present earlier was completely gone. "You don't have to explain it again." Or perhaps he did. She just didn't want to hear it anymore.

Ron looked uneasy. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say or do around her. He tried. Damned if he didn't, really. Because she meant as much to him as his adopted family did, if not more on some days. But it was just so hard and frustrating. There was a lot he understood about her but then she got emotional and it was the most he could do to not pull his hair out in frustration. If there was one thing he wasn't capable of understanding it was emotion. People's stances? Sure. Why they feel a certain way? Never. And it was especially difficult with her.

His throat continued to have the thick cottony feeling when she finally stops. She doesn't turn back and for a moment it doesn't seem like she's even going to speak to him. His mind worked to find something-- anything-- to say but instead it fumbled. It knew what it wanted to say. Ron knew it did. At often times he could pinpoint exactly what he wanted to say and when he needed to, but instead it never came out right. This didn't even come out right, did it? How was it he could manage find on a chess board or fighting a monster but put him in a place where emotions and talking were somehow involved together he couldn't say a word? Well, no, he could say plenty, it all just came out dumb.

"No, I do," he mumbled lowly.

A swallow.

Another pause.

"Look," he tried, his voice weighty, "I don't want you to get hurt, all right?" That was a good place to start-- a good place to work with. He scrunched up his face, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. How he wanted to say it. Somehow he thought saying she was one of the most important things in the world to him aside from his family was a bad idea. It would probably come out wrong. Not that everything didn't with him.

So he swallowed again.

"I need you. Same as you need me, I reckon," he managed, thickly, "but that doesn't mean I don't see you and don't know you. So I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you're safe. Even if you hate me for it." Because he knew she did when he tried pushing her to overcome her fears and worries, but someone had to do it.

Another pause. He wants to add something else in--it's bubbling in the surface, but he exhales and let's her go.

"That's it then, suppose."

On the one hand, she had to give him credit. She knew he definitely tried there even if in the end somehow they always made it worse. These conversations and trying to work through every argument had become more frustrating especially in the last year or so. They were sixteen. She'd be seventeen in September and she still felt like they were those two eleven year olds who couldn't stand each other. The difference now, of course, was that she was a lot more wiling to listen to him.

When he spoke she turned her head a fraction to look at him, and it was blatantly obvious she was holding back frustrated tears. She hated crying. Hated it with a passion, yet somehow even after all this time she could be reduced to tears if people knew the right buttons to press. She was actually a little surprised that he was admitting anything to her.

"…we're not children anymore," she replied, though she still sounded unsure. For as often as she reprimanded him for not understanding people's emotions, she was just as bad when it came to emotions revolving around her. She honestly didn't even think it was anything more than Ron felt it was his duty to protect her because they were childhood friends. He'd do this for anyone he felt especially close to, and she knew that. But she also knew that only meant his adoptive family and her, and that's where her brain often got hung up. She let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding once those three words registered in her brain.

I need you.

She finally turned to face him completely even though she was still having a hard time looking at him. "…you're right." There. He could have that victory, at least. "You know me better than anyone else here. Probably better than anyone in my whole life." And in a way it still sort of scared her. She knew that Ron knew nearly every trick in the book to get her to semi-cooperate and she knew he'd push her time and time again whether she was ready or not. "Depending on what you do, I might really hate you." Not true. She'd be angry and she might try to light his eyebrows on fire again, but hate was too strong of a word. It was hard to say if it was because she trusted him or because she had no choice.

No, that was a lie, too. She trusted him more than she'd ever tell him.

"…that's it?" She looked up then, clearly confused. No. No, there was something else there, but she wasn't going to push him for answers yet. She was hoping he'd do it on his own (even though she had a strong feeling that wasn't the case.)

He shifted his weight, blue eyes boring into her until they finally drifted away. They were always going to argue. That had been their thing from day one. If their mothers had decided they needed each other they chose the wrong kind of people. They were both stubborn and opposite in very bad ways for agreeing on things. But, oddly, it worked in the end. Where they butted heads was where they needed the other most at, but that wasn't something Ron was going to think of and even say outloud.

There was a shrug. "So?" He quipped, quirking a brow, "that doesn't man I want you getting hurt any." Because, frankly, he wouldn't know what he would do if she did. He knew himself. In most situations he was fine in a fight, but there were times when his friends got hurt that he acted instinctively. All that Athena always has a plan business went out the window and all he saw was blind rage. That wasn't exactly a good thing. And he knew what it meant for him, too, and he wasn't going to let her fall on that side.

Feeling his ears heat up as she turned to him at his words, Ron's feet shuffled him backwards a foot or so. Hands hanging uselessly at his side as he avoided all eye contact. He didn't look up even as she began speaking. He knew it , all of it. They needed each other. He knew her at least half as well as she knew him. At least half because, well, it wasn't like he was all that good with people. It didn't change the fact that he knew she was brilliant and thereby would definitely know more about him.

Still, he managed to crack again and speak. "Yeah, well, then I'm doing what I need to," he said wolfishly, glancing up. Because if he was going to make her hate him it was going to be for a good reason. Make her-- that didn't mean by accident or some such, as he feared, but truly meant to. Right now he was far from that. He just wanted her to realize she wasn't leaving regardless.

When she speaks again his throat returns to the cottony feeling but for a different reason all together. He nods. Once, twice, then three times.

"S-suppose, yeah," he said with a swallow, face scrunched up, "well-- I mean-- there's something but I suppose it's not important..."

It was odd that they were more opposite than they were similar. Maybe odd wasn't the right word, but they were the most literal case of opposites attract that Hermione had ever come across. Attract, of course, being in the literal sense…not…not that other sense. Not really.

It was complicated, as usual. They had their moments where they got along and they were kind to one another, but usually they were supportive by pointing out when the other was being idiotic. They showed each other they cared by infuriating each other and forcing them to act. It was silly to pretend it was anything but, and that's where she always got caught up.

"Obviously," she shot back, quirking her own brow. She didn't even have to say that the feeling was mutual. "If it does happen though, promise me you'll try to control it." It, of course, being his rage. She'd seen hints of it when they were young, when he would jump in to chase off the childhood bullies. As they grew she learned it was actually sort of fatal. She refused to be responsible for that, and she refused to let him go that far.

She blinked as he stepped away, tears gone and replaced with a questioning look. 'And just where do you think you're going?' "There are other ways to get a point across without humiliating me. You know that, don't you?" Nevertheless she's less flustered now. "Besides…hate would be a hard thing to accomplish," she added airily. That was much easier to say than 'I could never hate you.' It was also safer; who knew where their friendship would be a year from now? Not even that far. Who know where they'd be even a month out from now? Life as a demigod meant unpredictability.

She took another step forward, still keeping space between them. Her brown eyes were busy staring at him imploringly, definitely curious as to what else he might have to say. "What is it?"

"It's not going to happen," Ron said firmly, jaw tensing. Knowing exactly what she was meaning and refusing to promise anything. He wouldn't nor could he. Because if something happened to her that was not okay. It never world be. So he stood by his word-- he would never let anything happen to her. He knew it was the stupidest determination ever, but it was on he'd stick by. Which was going to turn out wrong one day, but that day wasn't today.

He didn't chance a look back up at her. Instead he kept his distance and shrugged. Making a face. He didn't think he was humiliating her. No more than she'd thought she was humiliating him in the past if he thought about it, but he didn't. He was always just blunt and brutally honest, maybe that was his downfall. "Then I'm doing it wrong, eh?" He tried joking, half glancing up. Because he felt like he was always hated in the end. He was sure, after all, Molly Weasley disliked him from endangering her kids. Even if she said she loved him as much as the others, he couldn't help the haunting feeling.

Ron glanced towards her when she came closer and quickly away once more. Another exhale as he felt his ears going continua lly redder. "Said it wasn't anything important, didn't I?" Except since when did he ever say anything if it wasn't marginally important to him, really?

Edited 2013-08-07 09:06 (UTC)

Likewise, she couldn't promise anything either. She refused to promise she'd never get hurt, that nothing would ever happen. But she chose not to argue with him, simply nodding in agreement. Okay, Ron, it's not going to happen. It's going to come crashing down on them one day, but today wasn't that day at all.

She was mostly bemused by his behavior suddenly, really focusing on him to read the signs and cues. She'd spent a lot of their time together learning how to interpret all of the things Ron never said, because for being as blunt as he was, he never really specified on certain subjects. She shrugged though. "Guess you're due for some practice, too." It was meant to be a joke as well, but she was slightly worried about what he really meant. Now wasn't the time though.

It baffled her, his behavior right then and there. What had just happened to change his demeanor entirely? She didn't dare take another step closer when she felt like she was on the edge of something really, really fragile. "If it wasn't important, you wouldn't have thought about it," she pointed out. She knew that even though he was brutally honest at the end of the day, there were several things Ron put thought into before he spoke, especially at the tail-end of their fights. "And anyway, perhaps it's important to me."

"According to you I always need practice in something," he mumbled, shrugging, "s'no different than usual, suppose." That much was true. He wasn't planning on making her hate him, but if it came down to it he had to find a way. He certainly wasn't looking for it and hoped it never happened. Ron really hoped it never came to that because then he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

Frowning, Ron shook his head. Scratching his chin, he let out a breath. "You don't know that. I think up a lot of stupid things," he mumbled, swallowing hard. Then she had to say that and he felt guilty. Really guilty. Grappling for a moment, Ron considered before shaking his head once more.

"The dance--uh--thing--" He waffled uneasily.

"Glad we understand each other." She stepped forward to officially close the distance between them. She stood there for a few moments before she swooped in, taking the bow from his hands and nocking an arrow to it. She stepped around him, giving herself ten seconds to steady, aim and fire before the arrow goes sailing right into the center of a tree. "Guess I'll practice if you will." That was to say, she was hoping to...well...the point was she really wanted to make sure he wasn't going to make her hate him.

"Think up, yes, but you don't always say them." However, whatever she was expecting him to say, it definitely wasn't that. She definitely was not expecting any sort of word about the Apollo dance. "...what about it?"

Well, he certainly wasn't expecting that. He'd moved with a start, a defensive one at that, until his eyes settled on what she was doing and he froze. Watching the arrow he quirked a brow before shrugging. "Watch out for any tree nymphs. I'd hate to be around when they tear you a new one," Ron teased.

"Sure I do, that's why you yell at me all the time," Ron pointed out, trying to manag a grin. But then she's kind of looking at him and asking that question and he cleared his throat. "You're going... right? ...'Cause you should. You'd have fun."

She can't help it; there's a very proud smirk on her face at his expression. See, Ron? She knows what she's doing after all. It just took a lot of yelling to figure it out. "I'm not that careless. You won't have to worry about them," she laughed. She slung the bow over her shoulder and reached forward to gently tug on his wrist as a show that he should follow her. She began to walk again as he spoke.

"I yell at you all the time because you actually execute some of the stupid things." She turned to watch him from the corner of her eye, trying to grasp what he was implying. "I think so. You're coming too though, aren't you?"

Except he still wants to tell her she was sort of off, but he's good enough not to. For now. Next time he'll tease her. "Sure about that? Swore I just saw an angry nymph making faces at you," he commented with an easy sort of grin. At least this was easier, even if his ears still burned as his feet followed without his head's decision. Right then.

"Hey, making a taco catapult in lunch wasn't stupid. It surprised the idiot and I remember you laughing," he returned, smirking slightly, but it kind of faltered. "Don't know. I've no reason to go to it, do I? Probably spend the night reading Ancient Greek scrolls and all," Ron finished, almost haphazardly.

Yes, yes, let's not bust her bubble right now. Next time though. "You're full of it." She was a lot more relaxed now as they walked along, grinning openly as she lead them back toward the main area of camp and not even taking note of his expression. She knew he was back to normal, too, and that was good enough for her.

She made a face at the mention of the taco catapult. That was one memory she could have lived without, even if at the time it was funny. "Was I? It must have been your imagination," she teased as a hand went up to tuck a few stray strands of hair that had escaped her braid back behind her ear. "You, reading all night? I never would have pictured it." She paused briefly, debating if she wanted to continue her line of thought. "You should go, too. You might enjoy yourself. I know the Aphrodite girls are going." She did her best to keep her tone light, but it was hard when all she could picture was how amazing they would probably look.

"Am not. Wanna turn back and check, do you?" Ron questioned easily, smirking. Because he knew she wouldn't if only because she feared he was right. Besides, it really was just a joke-- even if he was pretty sure he did see that.

There was nothing wrong with the taco catapult. It had worked amazingly well and he hadn't want to thrown it away at the time. A trophy of his success is what he wanted to name it. "Must have been. Just like the time with mop bucket..." he said and began ticking off other ones with an easy grin. Then he rolled his eyes and made a face. "Well, I can read it, y'know," Ron commented trying not to sound proud. Ancient Greek was easy. If only his school text books could be in it. He read now because he could and it wasn't something he'd make a passion of-- like her-- but he liked being able to. It was a nice feeling not having to struggle or once.

Then she said that and he made a worse face. "I'm not intereste in any Aphrodite girls," Ron said, shaking his head.

"I think I'll pass." She knew he was joking, but she wasn't going to take that risk.

As he continued listing off his "achievements", she couldn't help but watch him out of the corner of her eye, smile growing a little wider the longer she listened. It was always nice to see this side of him, a side that was proud of himself and not frustrated by all of the things he couldn't do. Even if she thought a lot of his projects and plans were completely ridiculous, they always worked. She had to give him credit for that. Speaking of proud...

"I know. I'm still working on mine, to be honest." Not by much though. Even if she wasn't dyslexia-diagnosed, she still had the demigod ability to read the ancient language. Still, she proud that Ron was able to read without throwing the book across the room...she just wasn't sure she wanted him to spend the night of the dance in Athena cabin reading. That was more something she should be doing, but she wasn't going to.

"Well then whomever," she added, though secretly pleased to hear that. Not that it would have really mattered, of course. He could associate with whomever he liked. He was a free man and she was only his best friend. "You should come anyway, even if it's only for an hour or two."

"Because I'm right," he tossed back easily, giving a bit of a laugh.

But he'll let it be as he rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't think any of what he managed was great, really. It paled in comparison to things his siblings did. But they were fun normally. If he planned something and it wasn't in a battle it was definitely about trying to get people to laugh. That was his whole point there, but he wasn't sure too many of his siblings agreed. He just considered it a side-effect of growing up with the twins.

"What's there to work on for you?" Ron said, raising a brow. He knew she wasn't dyslexic, but they were all hard-wired to read it. He still didn't know some words, but he figured she knew everything about everything else after all. Really, he didn't plan on reading during the dance, but that didn't mean what he'd likely do wouldn't include it.

He continued to make a face. "You know I don't like 'em," he groaned out. Then a breath as he considered and paused briefly. He was sure she wouldn't think anything of it, but he'd been trying to get at it-- hadn't he? So stopping momentarily he cleared his throat and considered, "Why don't you go with me then?"

"Pleading the fifth!" But okay. Another victory for him, just for the day.

Hermione had noticed that Ron's creations were always hit and miss with their peers. A lot of kids, like Ron's siblings and Hermione's siblings, didn't exactly see the appeal of Ron's prankster-created mechanics. On the other, the kids whose parents were more into the arts side of life seemed to appreciate his efforts. But she couldn't recall a time no one laughed at one of his inventions. A good kind of laughing, of course.

"Proper form," she replied, barely stumbling over the lie. There wasn't much left for her in terms of studying the language. Now it was about writing her spells and pronouncing them correctly.

...her spells. She'd gone out to practice, how had she ended up walking back toward the cabins with Ron talking about past memories and the dance?

"I think this dance will be different than the ones we had in school," she pointed out. They were in a comfortable silence as they walked, but as soon as Ron stopped and drew attention to himself, she stopped, too, and turned her head to face him completely. Both eyebrows were lifted and her eyes were busy searching his face to see if he was actually serious. "...both of us?" she said.

Was he really asking what she thought he was asking? No, probably not. If she were thinking like Ron, she had to assume that he wanted to go just so he'd have company especially if she was the one forcing him to go in the first place. "I suppose we could go, yeah. Friends attend social functions together all the time, don't they? It might be really fun."

Friends. That's what he'd meant, surely.

He grinned to himself but said no more.

Rolling his eyes, Ron scoffed. "Proper form? How many times have I told you you can't over think it?" He retorted easily, pulling a face. Why was everything about perfection with her? Sure, he knew some things had to be. A plan had to be thought at on all angles. But homework didn't have to be triple checked as did learning Ancient Greek. The concept was just weird since it was a natural thing for them anyway."

"Yeah," he commented making a play of thinking about it. Then he snorted. "It'll be full of demigods and magicians who'll likely blow up the area and the president will be forced to call New York a disaster area by some freak hurricane," Ron finished, raising a brow. It sounded right enough.

But of course things couldn't be easy and his ears burned once again as he swallowed roughly and stared down at her . Then he nodded. "Sort of the idea, yeah."

He hesitated when she spoke again. He opened his mouth, considered, shut it again, and then opened it again. He knew that wasn't what he meant, but well-- what if that was what she wanted. She did say she supposed. So maybe she didn't care? He tried to shake it off but he was probably being speechless for far too long.

"...You know, people don't usually go as friends," he commented thickly, swallowed, and shrugged, "but, yeah. Should be fun."

"I know, but I do need to have proper pronunciation for the spells. Unless you want to go back to filling in your eyebrows with a colored marker," she said pointedly. Everything was about perfection because that was how Hermione grew up. Simple as that. It was all she'd known and being praised for her hard work as a child just motivated her further to be ambitious and take on bigger tasks.

"Sounds like Christmas of two years ago all over again." She rolled her eyes. She couldn't even remember all of the details of that year, but it definitely hadn't blown over well.

His staring unnerved her, she had to admit. What was wrong now? She was just about to interrupt him and ask him if he wanted to talk to her about it later since he was apparently having a lot of trouble gathering his thoughts.

"…oh?" She feigned innocence. She wasn't that socially inept. She knew people had dates and people had romantic intentions for things like dances. She just never though that she and Ron would find themselves in that sort of situation. She also wasn't sure if she was ready for such a thing despite the fact there would virtually be no difference between if they went as friends or if they went as…whatever they would go as. Dates. "I just thought you would want to." 'Because why would you have a date like me?' She didn't even know how to dress for one of these things properly. "But...if you really want to we could try going as not-friends."

"Date" was still a scary word.

"Why is it I have to be your guinea pig again?" Ron countered, scrunching up his nose, "As far as I've learned that's what you've siblings for, you know. That seems to be Fred and George's way about it, anyway." Besides, he knew she was better at it than to be too worried about pronunciation. But then again she worried about the craziest things.

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck before mumbling. "Don't remind me," he said. Holidays here were always a pain and sometimes he wished he could go back to the Weasleys for a spin. Maybe this Christmas he could. He felt strong enough to be able to manage it, at least.

The way she feigned innocence just made him turn pinker as his eyes darted away. He knew it was a stupid idea. Even if he knew how he felt--well-- it wasn't likely she saw him more than an infuriating friend. And it wasn't something he was fully admitting to himself, was it? Because he was scared. Eventually she'd leave, too, or hate him. And none of that made him particularly thrilled-- but something about being a demigod, of knowing he was kind of a ticking time-bomb until doomsday gave him the courage to speak up. Because he did want her to at least know something before then.

Ron swallowed uneasily, turning his eyes to her and letting his hand curl into the slight fist. He tried working out what he was saying. "I was just saying. I mean-- if you don't want to--" Ron said, ears turning ever more pink as he tried to continue, "'cause I do-- uh, want to-- I mean-- Cause I meant what I said." He hoped she got what he meant, the bit about not being interested in Aphrodite girls. He wasn't going to out and say it. He actually wanted to turn and run. A foot moved to do just that, too, but he forced himsel to stay still even if he was as red as a tomato.

"Because you're the only one I trust not to damage entirely," she admitted before looking away again. "My siblings aren't much more skilled than me. At least if it's controlled I can master things." She always worried about the craziest things, he was correct. But if she didn't worry, who would?

"…maybe we can try to visit this year. Just for a day. We can take a bus from camp and I'm strong enough with the Mist now to cover us if we need to." Though she didn't have that strong of a connection with her family like Ron did with his, Hermione still missed her father and stepmother. Sometimes though it felt as though she were just an erased memory for them.

As he elaborated on the subject though her eyes grew wider and wider. He..was actually being honest? He was actually sharing with her, and oh wow, it was bigger than she'd ever thought. She pulled back a bit to examine him further, mind running in circles as she thought it over. Maybe he was still under Aphrodite's spell somehow? Or maybe it was just another joke…but something told her that it wasn't that. She didn't push him further, patiently waiting for him to work things out as she watched in mild fascination.

"Yes," she suddenly blurted out, startling even herself. "I mean…yes. I want to." It was her turn to fight off a blush. She had no idea what he was referencing that time. He'd said a lot of things he probably meant, but she was lumping his non-interest in other girls into that category, too. So what did this mean? Did he like her? Was he just taking a risk to see if it would work since they were always together anyway? It was hard to decide, but as soon as his foot moved her hand shot out to wrap around his wrist again and kept him in place.

"…we can go together as not-friends." Still not using the D-word. "I just can't promise you'll enjoy yourself that much." She looked embarrassed, but she still held onto his wrist as though afraid he'd run away. She didn't know much about dances or about boys or about this, whatever this thing was, but she knew she was going to try really hard to figure it out and make sure it was worth it. "But at least we'll be together."

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.../sneaks this in because augh I would kinda die leaving it hanging overnight...

xgsdgs lmao go to bed or i'll keep tagging you

I diiiid