halfbloodhill_logs | 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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"And I prefer that you never be a cyclopes," she replied breezily, brushing it off. "There's nothing wrong with being a little idealistic…it makes the world a bit brighter if you really want to know the truth. You should try it sometime, honestly." She couldn't help but mock him a little bit. Often times she was glad to have Ron around to ground her, but sometimes his pessimism (realism, whatever) brought her down just a little too far.

She seemed to realize just how uncomfortable he was, and so she squeezed his arm gently before pulling away, giving him another thoughtful look.

"It means that you shouldn't worry so much." About whatever it was he was truly worrying about. Hermione was perceptive, yes, but when it came to how people felt about her she might as well be staring at a brick wall. She really mostly assumed that Ron was worried they'd get separated. She understood his implications, of course, but…believing them was an entirely different story. "Though you might want to worry about what you're going to wear."

"Great, because I'd hate to find out I was suddenly turned into a monster," Ron said, making a face, that wasn't his mom's sort, "I know when to be idealistic just fine, thanks. But I can be realistic if I have to, too." Like when there was inevitable monster attacks. Sometimes he was a little too optimistic when he tried to figure out ways people might not have died, but well that was neither here or there.

Relieved to have control of his arm back he looked partly grateful although all it did was hang uselessly at his side.

The frown etched onto his features as she said that, but he didn't look away. It didn't feel like he had no reason to worry. Sooner or later she'd realize she didn't want him around, too, ater all. He nodded, shrugged, and immediately moved to her next sentene which... made him pale. "I--I well," he fumbled, "why an't I wear normal clothes?"

"If you were a monster, I'd have to kill you." The tone was light, but the words were serious. She'd do whatever it took to keep him safe, and that included taking him down to save him from himself. She didn't bother commenting again, but the look on her face clearly said 'I don't think so.'

She blinked at his question, expression settling into a small frown. "Because it's a dance. Dances are formal. Training clothes aren't exactly proper attire."

"You look like you wanna kill me half the time anyway," Ron pointed out with a shrug. He raised a brow and made a face. He was optimistic enough, thank you very much, just not hopelessly optimistic.

"They could be," he waffled, "so what happens when something decides to invade camp and no one can move? Seems hopeless then."

"You're over-exaggerating," she sighed. He actually really wasn't though, but she had hoped he knew she wasn't always serious. If there was anything he'd taught her in the last five years, it was how to loosen up.

"And what makes you so certain something will invade camp during the dance?"

"Am not," he said with an amused grin, because as much as he hated being yelled at she hated being disproven more, "honestly don't why you put up with me with how you seem to enjoy it all the time." ...Not that he didn't enjoy it either, but that was beside the point.

"Uh. A bunch of demigods having fun in one spot? With no one manning the boundaries? That's just asking for an invasion."

She shook her head, brushing off the question. She had her reasons for "putting up with him" as he put it, but she had always assumed he knew. Maybe he didn't.

"Now you're really being pessimistic."

That earned another shrug and a slight grin. Making a face, Ron sighed. "Not really now, am I?" Ron commented, "you've seen our luck, haven't you?"

"Luck can change," she said softly, turning away again. She'd have to bother him about dressing up later, if she could convince herself that it was okay to do such things. Normally she had no problem pestering Ron to do things, but when it came to things relating to a d-word, that's where she was uncertain of the lines.

"Come on. We don't want to be late, do we?"

"Except we're demigods," he said pointedly, making a face. Stuffing his hands into his pockets his fingers found the pocket knife and curled around it before he hesitated in his steps.

"You go on. I've got to to the cabin."

The change made her look over her shoulder, suddenly suspicious. "For what?"

He actually didn't miss a beat here as he shifted the bow and arrows he had on his shoulder. "Gotta put these up, don't I?" He asked easily, "and I've got to change shirts, I reckon."

And really, could she argue with him? Probably not. Those were perfectly valid reasons. "All right...I'll see you at dinner then?" Even if they couldn't sit at the same table after what had happened a few days ago.

Athena always has a plan. He could at least think on his feet. He paused and nodded. "Yeah, of course," he commented, "and there's after, I reckon."

Sometimes, he managed to outsmart even her. She assumed he was being responsible, not just trying to pull away as fast as possible. "And there's after," she echoed. She smiled again before tossing her braid over her shoulder and turning, striding back away from the lake toward camp. Come along, Ron.

Great, he thought. Hoisting the bow and arrows higher on his shoulder as she turned back around. Maybe he got out of this to go shove his head in a pillow and only come out to give an offering to his mom, maybe. But for now he supposed he had to, well, follow. And so he did.

Covering Bases (Open)

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