Hermione knew exactly what had possessed her to go steal something from the attic and what had made her invite Paul, of all people, along--she thought he was cute and she wanted to impress him. But she COULD NOT admit this to ANYONE because--technically--he was majorly off limits. They were both members of the Hermes cabin. And if it were any other cabin that would mean they were half-siblings...

But Hermione was almost 100% sure that Paul HAD to have a different godly parent. For one thing, she and all her siblings had particularly pixieish faces. And Paul didn't. She wasn't sure exactly who parentage his appearance hinted at... but it couldn't be Hermes. Maybe she was ignoring the aspects of him that DID fit Herme's kids... But she still didn't believe it. And it would just be TOO humiliating if she wrong.

So another reason for this little jaunt besides her crush was the opportunity it presented to solve the mystery. As she'd suggested to Paul--perhaps if he tried to act like a Hermes kid it would prove once and for all whether he was one. If he was it would become obvious and perhaps Hermes would choose that moment to claim him! Fortunately, Paul had agreed to try it.

She could've suggested testing him on any number of things. But she herself was best at stealing so she'd settled on that. And, of course, she had to chose something really interesting to steal. It couldn't be something that everyone knew didn't belong to them. But it still had to be something cool. So she'd quickly settled on the items in the attic. Surely she wasn't the only Hermes kid that dreamed of what must be up there and how to take it? And some of the items had to be so old that no one remembered they were in there, right? And even without the oracle mummy guarding the place these days, still very few campers had ventured up there. It was perfect.

The only thing was, they had to sneak in when Chiron and Mr. D weren't playing pinochle on the front porch. They had to be busy doing something else. And the two campers couldn't skip out on dinner or capture the flag. And the risks would be too high all around at night. So... it was now or never. Hermione crouched in the bushes with Paul and surveyed The Big House, waiting for Mr. D and Chiron to go to breakfast at the dining pavilion. "Any minute now..." she murmured.

This is a bad idea. Paul thought to himself. He had done some stupid things before, everyone did. This, however seemed suicidal. Paul had only been here a few days or so, but even he knew that the things in "The Big House" were not meant for his eyes.

He still hadn't gotten used to the idea of being a demigod yet. He went from Paul, average student at a prestigious boarding school in upstate Massachusetts to PAUL, DIVINE CHILD OF... he still didn't know who yet. The only person who would know was his Mamochka, and Paul never knew her. He'd feel a lot worse about being a divine bastard, but many of his Hermes cabin-mates were in the same boat. Most of the demigods of Camp Halfblood looked on his with mild neglect. Like he was a lost dog that everyone felt sorry for, but no one did anything to help. Everyone, that is, except Hermione. For whatever reason, she showed Paul genuine friendship, and even thought of this half-baked scheme to find Paul's true parentage. He still thought this plan was nuts, but hey, any excuse to hang out with a pretty girl was excuse enough.

He waited with her in the bushes, and just before he was going to say something about giving up, Mr. D and Chiron both left the House and made their way towards the dining pavilion. "Let's go." Paul said to his friend. "And lets try not to die."

This might, in fact, be a suicidal mission. You didn't have to be at camp long to learn how dangerous Mr. D was. But he seemed so uncaring about most things so maybe he wouldn't notice or care and Hermione had never been personally subjected to his bad side so she wasn't scared enough of him. Also, she was fairly used to getting into trouble and talking her way out of it. She didn't want to get Paul in trouble, but she also didn't think it would be too big of a deal. And finally, she just couldn't help it. She was a child of Hermes doing what Hermes kids did! Once she got a mischievous idea in her head, it was nearly impossible to avoid carrying it out, no matter how stupid. And now, even though this had started because of Paul, she was dying to get up there and go through the relics.

When the two camp guardians left, Hermione sighed with relief. Then she looked at Paul and smiled. "Don't worry, this'll be awesome." She thought about grabbing his hand and running toward the back door but luckily suppressed the impulse. And instead of running she just glided forward casually and went right up to the back door like she had every right to be there. She tried the door and found it was locked. Hermione paused. Then, instead of fiddling with it she turned and stepped aside. "Okay, man of the hour. Most Hermes kids can magically pick locks. Give it a try." This was, after all, supposed to help test his abilities.

She tried to smile encouragingly but only managed a kind of grimace. She SO did not want to be related to him. And that's what it would most likely mean if he did unlock this door. "Hermes..." she murmured, pleadingly. Thinking: 'tell me he's NOT your son pleaseeee.'

Paul looked at the doorknob and rubbed his chin. He tried to imagine the inside, with all of its mechanisms and stuff. He touched the door knob and he tried to will the door open. Nothing happened. Paul tried again, much harder, even muttering "Open Sesame".

Again, the door stood tall, and Paul felt a little foolish. He let go of the doorknob and turned to Hermione. "Well, I don't think I'm a child of Hermes. Even if I was, I don't think I was doing it right." He tried for a smile, but he still felt embarrassed. "Anyway, go ahead and open this, oh master of unlocking.

One down, five to go. he thought to himself. Let's hope it doesn't get more embarrassing from here.

Hermione watched, holding in her breath. She was trying not to even think about the lock in case she forced it to stay closed or forced it to unlock. She tried to keep her mind blank and just waited. When he gave up she exhaled in a rush and her shoulders sagged with relief. It wasn't an error-proof test but it was more evidence that they could rule Hermes out. Wonderful! She stood up straight and gave him her attention again. His smile was sheepish... but not too disappointed. Good. She smiled back him, feeling even more relieved.

Then, smiling confidently, she stepped close to him and grabbed the door knob. She leaned forward a bit and the end of her blond ponytail slipped over her shoulder. For a brief moment she closed her eyes and held it. She tried exactly what Paul had, picturing the pieces of the lock in her mind and coaxing them unlocked. Then she twisted the handle and pushed the door open. She glanced back up at Paul and grinned triumphantly. "Lock master, at your service!" she said. Then she slipped inside.

"Nice work." said Paul as he followed the Hermes girl inside the big house. Not wanting to stay on the ground floor, he quickly moved up into the attic. Climbing the short ladder, he pushed the small hatch open. Inside was an eclectic collection of artifacts and other knickknacks. Most everything was covered in dust, and Paul did his best to suppress a sneeze.

"Damn allergies." he said. Paul turned to his friend. "Was there something in particular you wanted to get or..." Paul's voice trailed off and his gaze shifted to behind Hermoine. Sitting on a table, covered in dust, was a rusty old sword. Normally, he wouldn't have paid it any mind, but Paul could have sworn it moved when he glanced at it. He brought his attention back to Hermoine, looking apologetic. "Sorry, I could have sworn that sword over there moved when I looked at it. Apparently,I am going craz-." As he pointed at the sword in question, it fell off the table with a loud clatter. "What the hell?" he exclaimed as he went over and picked up the sword.

Hermione followed eagerly. She glanced around the entire room first, then drifted away to start looking. He was right about the dust. "Well... at least we know they probably won't miss anything we take..." she murmured. She picked up a pair of fuzzy dice and read the attached label.

"Hey! This was stolen by a Hermes kid!" She was strangely proud even though it was kind of a lame thing to steal. "Do you have any idea who Chrysaor is?" That wasn't a god or monster she was familiar with. Who could it be? And what kind of monster drives a Honda Civic? She put the dice back down and patted them.

Then she turned to face Paul and shook her head. "Nah, not really..." She followed his gaze behind her but didn't see anything. But as soon as he suggested it could move she leapt away from the spot. Swords that moved on their own were NOT cool. Unfortunately, the clumsy leap made her bump into a mannequin. Immediately she grabbed it to stop it from falling and ended up ballroom dancing with it for a few panicky seconds. And ending up with the mannequin's scarf wrapped around her instead. Finally she released it, blushing from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. There even seemed to be a faint red haze around her. Were her eyes blushing too?! "Oh, gods," she complained, wishing she could disappear. She hunched her neck and shoulders as if trying to hide beneath the new scarf she'd acquired.

Then she lifted her eyes and saw Paul. Her golden orange eyes lit up like she was seeing him for the first time and her cheeks reheated--this time into a becoming blush. Her ponytail had come loose as she twirled and now her long blond hair spilled loosely around her face and shoulders. She looked lovely. Was she wearing makeup? There was something changed about her outfit too. Her orange camp t-shirt and jeans seemed to fit more perfectly. Was that it? They appeared more stylish all of the sudden. Hermione didn't notice the subtle changes wrought on her. She was still watching Paul and her heart was pounding. She took a step toward him. Gosh, he was SO handsome. And now that she knew he wasn't a Hermes kid too maybe in spite of the rule about cabin members dating they now had a loophole? She took another step. She just... almost as soon as she'd met him she'd wanted to... The red haze around her intensified a bit and she forgot what she was thinking. "Paul..." she whispered, reaching out a hand to stroke his shoulder.

She'd still barely noticed that he'd picked up the sword. She'd forgotten all about it, and the fact that they needed to finish up here and leave before anyone returned. She was thoroughly distracted.

Almost in an instant, Paul saw his friend leap away from sword, startled. She backed into a mannequin, nearly knocking it over. Paul wanted to rush to help, but he remembered he held the sword. He put in back where he found it, just in time to see a scarf land on Hermoine's shoulders.

Almost instantaneously, she changed. Paul had always thought she was cute, in an elfish sort of way. She never seemed to put much effort into being cute, but just naturally was so. Now, the pretty girl had become utterly stunning. She now had perfect... well, everything. Her hair was lush and long. Her makeup was spotless. Her shirt and jeans seemed more stylish.

When she looked at Paul, he felt his heart skip a bit. "Paul..." she whispered, and Paul felt her hand stroke his shoulder, and he shivered at her touch. He couldn't control his arms as they wrapped around her waist. What is happening?! This isn't right! his mind screamed, but the rest of Paul ignored it. He pressed his lips to hers, but as he did so, he heard another voice in his head. Not his own, but much stronger and more disciplined. "The scarf, you idiot! Take of the scarf!" is said. Obeying immediately, he took Hermoine's scarf off and suddenly, she started to change back to normal. This left Paul, feeling incredibly awkward, holding Hermoine. Already turning beet red, he let go. "We need to get out of here, before we cause a scandal."

Hermione knew she was pretty. Maybe not beautiful, in her opinion, but she was still satisfied with her looks. However, every girl occasionally dreams about being so drop-dead gorgeous that all boys fall at her feet. She dreams about having everything she wants without even having to try for it, including something like love. Hermione was definitely guilty of this kind of fantasizing. So when she put on that scarf and suddenly felt more beautiful and desirable and confident, and her own natural attraction to Paul was stirred up--she was easily overcome by the magic. She smiled flirtatiously and approached him. Willingly, he embraced her and kissed her. So amazing! Why hadn't they done this before? She put her arms around his shoulders and rose up on her toes, kissing him back for all she was worth. Willingly. It was a fairy tale and she wanted it to be real.

But in an instant it was all over. Her heart seized with a sudden intense pain and she jerked slightly away from him. Her hand flew to her heart, clutching. But the the pain passed and she came back to herself, still being held. Then she gasped, her eyes flying to his face with realization. She covered her mouth with her hand, dropping her gaze. "Oh, gods," she whispered.

He released her, but she looked up again and reached out imploringly, her hands just hovering over him though, not touching. "Oh, gods, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Paul." She bit down hard on her lip. Then she looked at the floor and kicked the scarf. "Yeah," she murmured. "Let's not do that." Her shoulders slumped and she walked dejectedly toward the ladder.

Somehow, Paul felt even worse. He got to kiss a beautiful girl and he still somehow managed to mess that up. Apparently, I need to keep my mouth shut. He thought to himself, as he followed Hermoine towards the ladder.

"No! Pick up the sword, dummy!" It was the voice before, but this time it sounded like it was from right behind him. He turned around, quickly, but all he saw was the rusted sword from before. This time, however, it seemed more...Important? It was the only remotely fitting word he could find. He walked to the pedestal on which it stood. Carefully, he lifted it with both hands. As soon as he did so, he felt his mind start to scream. Images started to flash across is eyes. Many were too quick to register, but those he could see were images and sounds of war. Heavily armored cavalry crashed into blocks of wavering infantry. Sword's clash against shields. Muskets fire in volleys. One image even showed a tank rolling through a building, machine gun blasting at fleeing soldiers.

Almost as soon as it started, his vision cleared and he was back again in the attic of the big house. He looked around him, and saw that Hermoine was no where to be found. "Hermoine?" he called out, as he went to the ladder, hoping she was just downstairs.

Damn double post.

Again with the double post!

Hermione paused before going down. She went from feeling awful, to feeling angry. But not at Paul. She turned and snatched up the scarf. She waited a second, then glanced at him. Okay good, no effect. Except to remind her... She squeezed her eyes closed and pushed aside the thoughts. Then, glaring at the item, she read its tag and snorted. Aphrodite's scarf! Figures! Irritated, she balled it up and shoved it in her pocket. She was NOT going to leave this attic without stealing something. And part of her didn't want to leave that scarf just lying around. She would decide what to do with it later. She glanced at Paul nervously, but the scarf still wasn't affecting her and he wasn't watching her either. She sighed with relief.

Then a strange feeling started to come over her. A tingly feeling. But it wasn't the way the scarf had made her feel. This was something else. However, it still freaked her out so much that she rushed down the ladder without even thinking. All of the sudden she was on the ground floor and ready to flee. But Paul's voice stopped her in time. Oops, what was she doing?! Instinct had taken over. She spun, heart racing. "Shh! Hurry!" she called, pitching her voice so that hopefully only he could hear it. She was beginning to realize what she was feeling. Mr. D hadn't teleported back into the house yet, but somehow she could tell he was coming. Or maybe it was just the approach of Chiron? Either way she didn't want to be here to find out. Not with the stolen items in their possession... that would be hard to lie their way out of. Though if she did get caught, she'd do her best to them out of it.

Paul quietly climbed down the ladder and tried to follow Hermoine. It was only when he got off the ladder did he realize he was still carrying the sword. He looked around the corner, and when he saw it was clear, he motioned for his friend to move ahead. When she did do, Paul waited a few heartbeats before attempting to move. As soon as he put a foot out, he heard a voice. Unlike before, this voice was very familiar.

"Leaving so soon?" asked Chiron the Centaur. His wheelchair bound form appeared in the hallway right where Paul had been looking a moment before. Paul found himself floundering. "How... did you?" he asked, trying to form words. The old teacher raised his hand, a look of bemusement on his face. "I still have a few trick up my sleeves." Chiron replied before changing the subject. "Now, you know very well the consequences for going into the attic without permission. They are almost as bad as taking relics. Were you alone?"

Paul hesitated for just a moment, thinking of Hermoine. "Yes, sir. I came alone, and all I took was this rusted piece of crap." he said as he raised the sword for Chiron to see. The centaur's eyebrows shot up. The room got awkwardly quiet, and Paul could only hope that Hermoine took the hint and got out of there.

Hermione wanted to sigh when relief when he made it down and they still hadn't been caught. But unfortunately her radar was really pinging. She knew they needed to get out, RIGHT NOW. Unfortunately, someone was blocking their exit. Hermione was still sorting through her impressions when Paul took a step forward. She reached for his sleeve but dropped it immediately, hearing the voice. Her heart shot into her throat and finally her radar zeroed in. 'don't go that way, run the other direction' it was telling her. Great. Super helpful now. She swallowed hard and focused on breathing evenly.

She was trying to think of the best thing to do now. Her plan if they'd gotten caught was to talk their way out of it. But honestly, right now nothing was coming to mind. And Paul was already giving her an opportunity to escape. It was so tempting to take it. Since she didn't have any convenient lies coming to mind, what good would it do for them both to be punished? Besides, what if Chiron DID know she was there already?

She bit her lip and hesitated, staring compassionately at Paul's profile. The wonderful boy, trying to save her! Even though she'd gotten him into this... So chivalrous. She could just kiss him for that! If only their first kiss hadn't been so disastrous. Now she didn't think they would be attempting it again any time soon.

In any case, now was the moment. Either to step forward or to leave. But she just stood there, hesitant.

Chiron gave Paul an appraising look. If he had any feelings that Paul was lying to him, he didn't show it. Instead, Chiron beckoned Paul to bring the sword to him. Paul quickly obeyed, and handed the sword hilt first to the wheelchair bound centaur. Chiron held it in his hands, but it was clear he was not comfortable with doing so. When he spoke, he spoke with reverence, almost fear.

"This sword has been at the side of some of the strongest demigods of all time. Though it grants the user great luck and strength in battle, it's wielders have ALWAYS met tragic ends. It is named after it's first user. This, young Pavel, is the Sword of Achilles." Paul listened intently, and gritted his teeth when Chiron used Paul's birth name. Still, he got the gist of what the old stallion was saying. Sword=Bad Stuff. "Chiron," Paul said when before the centaur spoke again. "When I picked up the sword, I saw something. It was like a crash course in military history."

Chiron's face turned grave. Paul wanted to ask what it meant, but before he could get his question out, Chiron spoke. "Tonight, after dinner, you will clean this bathroom. The punishment for breaking into the attic is usually far harsher, but I am cutting you some slack." Paul sighed, resigned to his fate. He understood that he had this coming, but it still sucked to hear. Chiron motioned for Paul to leave, and the young man turned for the door. "And Pavel?" he said, using Paul's Russian name again. "You have some lipstick on your face." Paul blushed and quickly went out the door.

Hermione didn't risk peeking around the corner, but she kept her attention focused on the two voices. Paul stepped out of view and a moment later Chiron spoke about the sword. She listened with interest despite herself, and got a double surprise. She hadn't known Paul's real name was "Pavel" and the fact that the sword had belonged to Achilles was also interesting.

However, the way Chiron introduced it gave her chills. She knew that once an item acquired that kind of history it was very difficult to go against it. And she did not want her friend's life to end in tragedy just because of a stupid sword. She was tell him it was too dangerous. Or maybe he would give it up on its own, or Chiron would make him?

However, then Chiron changed the subject to punishment. That was the moment Hermione made her escape. She knew by this point that the punishment wouldn't be death or torment so didn't feel as bad abandoning him to it. And it was, again, just instinct. She didn't take the front door, but instead slipped out the kitchen door as quickly and quietly as possible, praying Chiron wouldn't magically appear in front of her or raise his voice after her. She would wait for Paul to come this way and then hustle him away from the house...

Paul cursed his foul, rotten luck as he left the house. He didn't see Hermoine right away, but he found his friend on the other side of the house, waiting for him. Sheepishly, he approached her. "Well, that could have gone a lot worse actually. I'm just stuck with bathroom cleaning duty, as opposed to death. "

The two of them walked back to the Hermes Cabin. Despite the disaster that happened earlier, he was glad to have a friend here. At least she could try and save him from further embarrassment. The two of them talked about their excursion, but Paul tried to stay away from the "kiss". Just as well,he thought to himself. I wouldn't want to kiss me either.

Hermione waited anxiously until she caught sight of him. She relaxed slightly when she saw him. She wanted to hug him for what he did but she refrained and just said, "That was so awesome of you. I'm really sorry. We still don't even know who your dad is..." Nervously she ran a hand through her loosened hair and then again, tucking it behind her ear. Then she looked nervously at the house and started walking away from it fast, very conscious of the stolen property in her pocket.

After walking for a couple of minutes she glanced at Paul. "Wow, he really let you keep that relic. Impressive. But..." her mind flashed to Chiron's story. "It's dangerous right? It's wielders die tragic deaths..."

She slowed and then stopped walking. She looked at him. "Paul, I--" she bit her lip and then started again. "Jeez. I just couldn't STAND it if this crazy date idea of mine lead to even more trouble for you!" She started pacing. "I really just thought it would be kinda cool and harmless..." She explained. Then she turned away and walked off a bit. "Ugh, why can't I ever leave well enough alone?" Her hands clenched and unclenched futilely with nerves.

"Hey, it's not your fault." Said Paul. "It was kind of an insane idea, but I'm glad I did it." He meant every word, too. Despite getting in serious trouble, he knew it could have gone a lot worse. And there was something about this sword he found. After what Chiron had said, he really wanted to just throw it in the woods and never think of it again. But there was something about it, something Paul couldn't explain. All he knew was that he can't get rid of it.

Paul looked over to Hermoine and tried for a joke. "Did you get anything good, at at least? Maybe something that can erase the memories of centaurs?" Paul never considered himself to be funny, but the Hermes girl seemed to laugh at him more than scowl (which was more than he could say about everyone else who heard his "humor". Maybe that's why he liked hanging out with her. She even wanted to go on a Wait, did she say date? Paul pondered this as the two friend reached the overcrowded Hermes cabin.