[ For all that she might appear a little naive, sometimes, Hermione isn't an idiot; she's the brightest witch of her age, a strong and proud student, and she knows when people are taking note of her. Once, she used to imagine what they might think, if they thought about her blood heritage or the fact that Harry Potter was her best friend, maybe that they dwelled on all the things she had done at his side to try and keep people safe. Here, she thinks Gilgamesh must be looking at the ring she wears around her neck.
It's not proud, exactly, but she knows that he's aware of it just as much as she is, a hyper vigilance that makes her hands twitch to want to go and grab at it, to tuck it under her shirt and keep it out of sight. It's there as a beacon of something that she isn't sure she can explain properly. If she's in trouble he had promised he'd come, even if she knows it would be a token to use as a final, last resort, when she has no other hope and no other means of helping herself. She has more pride than to just use it for the sake of using it and she wonders if he's aware of that.
Her smile is still soft when she looks at him, shaking her head as if the joke they're playing at is utterly ridiculous. ]
He would suggest a diet when we spend enough time together eating jam and scones. [ She can imagine how well that particular debate went and it makes her smile a little brighter. ] If you don't have to then it shouldn't do anything to you, right? And if it does then he can just watch as you run around the training yard for a little while.
[ His returned hit, like a poke of the rapier, makes her cheeks turn a little red even as she holds her head high, denying herself the embarrassment. ]
I've been learning how to duel properly since the tournament in Treun. The Red Hand sent the best teachers to the Citadel and I've been working with them ever since then. I thought it made sense to have the right clothing to protect myself, not just the right skills.
[ She shakes her head. ]
It was a little garish and a bit big for me, I think.
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It's not proud, exactly, but she knows that he's aware of it just as much as she is, a hyper vigilance that makes her hands twitch to want to go and grab at it, to tuck it under her shirt and keep it out of sight. It's there as a beacon of something that she isn't sure she can explain properly. If she's in trouble he had promised he'd come, even if she knows it would be a token to use as a final, last resort, when she has no other hope and no other means of helping herself. She has more pride than to just use it for the sake of using it and she wonders if he's aware of that.
Her smile is still soft when she looks at him, shaking her head as if the joke they're playing at is utterly ridiculous. ]
He would suggest a diet when we spend enough time together eating jam and scones. [ She can imagine how well that particular debate went and it makes her smile a little brighter. ] If you don't have to then it shouldn't do anything to you, right? And if it does then he can just watch as you run around the training yard for a little while.
[ His returned hit, like a poke of the rapier, makes her cheeks turn a little red even as she holds her head high, denying herself the embarrassment. ]
I've been learning how to duel properly since the tournament in Treun. The Red Hand sent the best teachers to the Citadel and I've been working with them ever since then. I thought it made sense to have the right clothing to protect myself, not just the right skills.
[ She shakes her head. ]
It was a little garish and a bit big for me, I think.