Hermione couldn't sleep that night. The excitement of the day should have worn her out but instead she stayed awake, her thoughts taking turns on the various highs and lows of it. Getting Paul claimed by his godly parent had mostly just been an excuse to spend time with him. And a little bit to get into the attic, where she'd always wanted to go. If she'd taken the right item from there she never would've been able to resist bragging to her cabin mates about it. But all she'd taken was the scarf and she wasn't keen to talk about that. In fact... she hadn't even taken it out of any klepto tendency. Some child of Hermes she was. She just took it so that she could dispose of it once and for all, so that no one else ran afoul of it. 

Getting to kiss a cute, strong, nice, GREAT guy like Paul should've been one of the highs of the day. But somehow it hadn't been. She fretted about that as she laid in bed, trying to sleep. It had felt good at first, and even like a huge relief to just do it without any inhibitions. But each of them had been controlled by the spell of the scarf. They hadn't chosen to kiss. So it felt wrong because of that. And it hadn't SOLVED anything. Hermione still didn't even know if the guy actually liked her. She told herself there was no reason why he COULDN'T but she still didn't know if he DID. 

She kept remembering that kiss! And it confused her too much. What was the reality of their relationship and potential and what was the fantasy of the scarf?

Finally, she got out of bed, retrieved the scarf, and went to the dining pavilion. All of the sudden she was standing there, no matter that (1) it was midnight or that she might get eaten by "the cleaning harpies" for being out after curfew nor that (2) she was traipsing around in flannel pajamas with her blond hair tied in a messy bun and her bangs pinned back in a little poofy bun on the top of her head. At least she'd bothered to put on some flat shoes. Oh well, she didn't intend to get caught. This was just a brief, necessary little errand. 

She stared at the fire. This was the fire which all the campers used for sacrificing a portion of their food to the gods. It was always lit and it reflected the mood of the campers when they were all around it. Right now was it reflecting her mood? It just looked like a normal fire. She couldn't tell if it was yellow orange or red. 

Holding the scarf in both hands she said to the flames, "Aphrodite... I'm returning this to you because it belongs to you." It was a lame speech but she didn't have much to say to the goddess that was complimentary so she wanted to keep it simple. Gods knew she didn't need that one's attention whether it was good or bad. But she'd felt like just throwing the scarf in here without any explanation would've been insulting. Now, feeling slightly safer about it, she threw it in. She didn't see burn but it disappeared immediately. Then she cringed, afraid the goddess might suddenly appear or something. But fortunately, she did not. Maybe she was busy. 

Sighing with relief, Hermione rushed back to her cabin. But on the way she caught sight of another camper. She didn't know who it was at first. But she used her skills to sneak past him and then wait behind a building while he approached. Finally, she realized it was Paul. And that he was armed. What on Earth? While she stood there, surprised, he finished walking past her. 

At that point she could've just gone back to bed or continued following him. But instead she stepped onto the path and whispered after him, pitching her voice so that only he'd hear it. 

[i]"Paul? Is that you?"[/i] And then after a second, [i]What's going on?"[/i]