Surprise, surprise, Sokka was in. He didn't go many places, anyway, but with the fast-approaching end of the school year, the young man had taken to the world even less than usual.
His decision to stay the remainder of the year had given him the opportunity to gather up some collectibles and stay in contact with those few people he'd come to know around the area. Somehow, it felt easier to transition away when he could ease himself into the process slowly. There would be no big goodbye celebration, no letters of fond farewell; Sokka would say his goodbyes when the time was right, and then he would be gone to leave his sister enjoy her last year with her peers, this time uninhibited by his presence.
The room he occupied on campus had moved again -- something the tribesman had grown accustomed -- so when it was Granger on the other side of the door, Sokka was surprised to realize she'd actually tracked him down.
"Hermione, I wasn't, ah..." He shook his head and gestured with a small smile. "Come on in, if you want." When he stepped aside, he revealed the area to her. It wasn't small, not in the least, but so sparse it could pass for empty if not for the wardrobe and bed and the few candles that brightened the dark walls. The room was much, much taller than it was wide or long; the ceiling stretched up to high windows that showed off the tumultuous clouds roiling above the school.
Sokka's eyebrows knit together, inspecting Granger in the gruesomely low light. "Are you okay?" Worse thoughts hit him and he added, "Is Katara all right?"
Hermione was relieved to find Sokka without too much trouble, though really, it felt like the closer she got to figuring this mess out, the worse it got. Her eyes hurt from the brightness of the outdoors, and shielding them often led to her bumping into walls or people, which garnered some strange looks. She was glad to have come across Sokka without bumping into Ron or Harry, since she didn't want to give them any reason to worry.
Stepping into his quarters, Hermione blinked as she tried to look around, but it didn't help any. Closing her eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to groan.
"Katara's fine," she told him, since that seemed to be the most important point to him right now. "I just... I have a problem."
Fishing into the pocket of her robes, she eventually withdrew the medallion, which was still glowing faintly. "Do you remember this?" she asked, holding it out to him. "What does it mean to you?"
Before Sokka could answer one question, Hermione had more, so he fumbled between the words hoping to catch up but failing miserably. "Well, ah..." He didn't know what to address first, so he gave up and decided to move on.
When he finally laid his eyes on the medallion, glowing blue in her hand, he closed his mouth with a snap and actually took a step back away from it. "I remember," he replied, honestly. Obviously, whatever was happening to cause the trinket to glow wasn't a good thing because Granger looked tired and less than thrilled. "What's wrong with it?" Sokka asked, then catching Hermione's expression, he added to his list of questions. "What's wrong with you? You look... spooked. And maybe a little sick... Do you want to sit down? He gestured first to an uncomfortable wooden chair, then to his bed, offering for her to take her pick. "Can I get you a drink? Water or pumpkin juice or something?"
Hermione absently shook her head, tossing the medallion onto a nearby table. She would have hoped that not having it in her possession would immediately make her feel better, but all it did was annoy her even more when she realized that she could hardly see the glow when the charm wasn't up close. All the questions made her head hurt, and she put her head in her hands as she tried to shake herself free from thought.
"I don't-... I haven't been sleeping well," she replied lamely. "I don't know... every time I look outside, I just see sunlight. All the time. It could be midnight, and I'll swear it's noontime. And I keep seeing things and it's weighing down on me, and all of a sudden this medallion started glowing, and you need to tell me what's happening." Her last words were almost a yell as she clenched her hands into fists at her side, and she glared at him, obviously distressed and hating that her anger seemed to be aimed towards him.
Sokka held up his hands, his expression an amalgamation of confusion and innocence. He didn't quite understand at first, unable to see the coorelation between the carved medallion and Granger's sleeplessness. "Wait, wait, wait. You haven't been sleeping?bThat sounds serious!" Had it been him, Sokka would have seen to a solution before his first night was afflicted.
He ran a hand through his loose hair, awkwardly fumbling through a mental index of other comforts he could offer the already upset witch. "I knew that thing was bad news the second I saw it," he fibbed, glaring at the table where the Water Tribe artifact sat glowing, so seemingly harmless to all. He could see blue light being emitted from where he stood, and in an effort to be helpful, he stepped up to it and used a quill tip to flip it on top its front.
"It doesn't say anything, but there are some dots that make a familiar pattern," he informed her. "It's the stars back home -- at the South Pole, I mean."
At his reaction to her, Hermione felt a surge of self-disgust for allowing herself to take this out on him. He'd done her no wrong, and she was just coming into his living space, yelling and crying and causing a general to-do. Hoping that he could forgive her once she had the sense to calmly apologize, she trodded over to his bed, curling up on her side as though it were her own bed, or Ron's or Harry's. Such familiarity was not usually heard of from her, so she just chalked it up to the list of things she hoped he'd forgive her for later.
"Does it mean anything?" she asked, closing her eyes to lessen the headache she had. "Is it some sort of significant constellation? The mark of a tribe known for placing curses on people? It has to be a curse; things don't just start glowing by coincidence when someone in the vicinity is sick."
He glanced over at his shoulder, noting Granger had taken over his bed, and when he turned his attention back to the pendant, he had to shrug. "It's just a star chart, nothing too special. Anyway, we're not really much for curses where I come from," he defended, not angry over her accusation, but also not willing to let it stand.
Without touching the actual tusk material, the young squib lifted the whole piece to investigate it from all angles. "They're the stars of my birthday or thereabout," Sokka explained, surprised of the fact himself. If he had to venture a guess, he'd say the map being outlined in pinpricks of light was current.
He frowned and placed the piece back on a flat surface to rest. When he turned back to Hermione, Sokka had his hands on his hips. "So, you're seeing... sunlight? Even now?" When he looked up, it was easy to confirm it wasn't sunny out at all. Stepping closer to the bedside, he wondered over the odd occurrence, unsure what it really had to do with him but willing to help however he could.
"Your birthday?" The thought only made Hermione scowl. Had someone placed a curse on the object meant for Sokka? Who would even want to hurt him? She tried to open her eyes when she heard him approaching, but they hurt too much, and she dug her face into the mattress.
"I don't know if it's sunlight," she mumbled, her voice a bit garbled. "But it's definitely brighter in here than it should be. All around the castle... do you have any idea what some of these dark hallways look like in full light? It's disturbing. And when I'm outside... I don't know, it's gotten worse as the days have gone by."
Realizing that she was close to sobbing, she forced her hand to clutch against the coverlet before she choked out, "I'm sorry, Sokka, I just didn't know who else to turn to when I saw the medallion. Please tell me you can help me. Please."
The tone of her voice was enough to convince him the situation was a little more serious than he'd originally guessed. Sleeplessness was an easy thing to ignore, especially in a place like Hogwarts. As symptoms went, it was probably the least offensive ailment brought on by a curse, but even sleeplessness over a longer period of time could drive a person mad.
Sokka, at a loss for what to do, took a seat on the edge of the bed and gingerly laid his hand on Granger's back. "I'll do everything I can," he responded, gently, hoping his utter lack of an instant and absolute solution wouldn't upset her even more. "Just rest there a second and I'll think of something."
The young man had no idea what to do, initially. He turned to lean his elbows on his knees, head dipped, shoulders hunched, back rounded. Hermione, being the cleverest of witches in Sokka's eyes, hadn't found a solution in magic, a fact that didn't bode well for either of them. If the answer to breaking the curse wasn't magical, then they needed a different solution, likely non-magical.
Sokka smirked to himself. Somehow, he didn't think a warm glass of milk was going to do. Sitting up and turning slightly to observe the girl in his bed, the young man scratched at his temple. "Have you tried having someone read you a bedtime story? Those always put me to sleep," he joked, heart half in it. Tentatively, he reached back out, this time making the extra effort to rub soothingly at his friend's back. It wasn't an unfamiliar gesture to him, though he guessed it might be for her.
As much as she hated to admit it, Hermione found herself crying softly against the bed. She was tired - exhausted, really - but she couldn't fall asleep, not with the after-image of the unnatural sunlight burning behind her eyes. She was surprised she'd managed to hold it together as long as she had before coming to see Sokka.
She initially tensed when she felt that hand on her back, but slowly forced out a breath and managed to relax at the sound of his gentle words. His voice was soft, soothing, and she found that it wasn't too difficult to believe that Sokka would figure out how to fix this, and that it will all be all right.
Her breathing slowly evened out, but any time she dozed off, the dim red of the light outside her eyelids (or inside her mind) invaded the peace, and she furrowed her brow as her eyes blinked open. Sokka wasn't touching her anymore, and she suddenly felt light-headed and ill, which she owed to lack of sleep. It wasn't too long, though, until she felt his hand rubbing at her back, and though it felt strange, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if the calmness that seeped over her stemmed from that.
"No," she murmured, not really realizing that he was joking. "No one's read to me since I was a child." She shifted a little, her back moving beneath his hand. Not wanting him to think that she wanted him to stop, she muttered, "Sorry. It just feels a little strange."
Strange? Sokka raised an eyebrow, entirely unsure of her meaning. One part of his brain attempted to convince him Hermione meant him to stop while another part maintained that "strange," in this circumstance, didn't necessarily mean bad. And really, it was hard to judge for himself. She looked uncomfortable, and had looked uncomfortable since arriving, so any difference there he couldn't detect. The only sign he had was her small amount of movement, and she didn't seem to be shirking away.
"How do you mean?" he finally asked, deciding he'd second guess himself a dozen times otherwise. Better to ask it straight and to know for sure (though he'd certainly not opt for that option if she weren't looking pale and tired.) "Is strange bad?" In case she wasn't following his line of thinking, he lifted his hand to hold it away from her back.
Hermione gave a little shrug at his first question before shaking her head adamantly at his second. "No, it's not bad at all. It's just... physical contact isn't something I'm used to." Glancing up at him, she realized that her eyes were watering from exhaustion, and she hoped they didn't come across as sad tears. "My family and most of my friends aren't usually affectionate. It just feels like... like something someone should do to someone else, not generally to me."
At least he could count himself relieved that Granger didn't express her strange feelings stemmed from the medallion's influence, though a part of him felt sad to think she didn't expect or receive a whole lot of physical attention. Sokka smiled down at her and opted for a familiar gentleness and calm, inadvertently echoing an expression his mother had used often to ease Sokka's childhood frustrations.
"This kind of thing's pretty common where I come from," he informed Hermione, though a second to think on it had him clarifying. "Affection, I mean. Back rubbing, hand-holding, hugs and all that." In fact, it had been so common in his community, the young man had genuinely felt awkward the first year he'd arrived at Hogwarts to see how little people shared touch.
In the public eye, he tended to draw back a lot. In private quarters, though, Sokka chose to keep going, likely enjoying the contact underneath all of his worry more than he was willing to admit. "If it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop," he offered, intent on her comfort. His free hand came up, and just in case, he pressed the back of his fingers to her forehead to ascertain whether she had a fever or not.
Hermione couldn't imagine a life where people openly touched one another aside from times of extreme duress. What Sokka was doing now was something that even Harry might have felt awkward about, and Ron certainly would have been turning bright red at the thought of rubbing her back while she laid on his bed.
Still, while it was odd... it was nice. In a weird kind of way.
"No," she murmured, her hand absently coming up when she felt him touch her forehead. After batting at his wrist for a few moments, she managed to grab at it lightly. "It's just unusual, not uncomfortable. It's the least uncomfortable thing that's happened to me recently."
No fever. Was that a good sign? Sokka assumed it wasn't a bad sign, but without some serious direction, he wasn't sure how he'd discover the antidote to whatever was ailing poor Hermione.
"I'm glad it's not uncomfortable." He stood, lurking bedside and rubbing at his chin thoughtfully. It had been a long time since he'd experienced sleeplessness, and even then, it hadn't lasted. The odd, unearthly feeling was not something he envied seeing in his friend. She hardly seemed the same person, though he found her no less charming for it.
Running through ideas, he asked, "What happens if you cover your eyes? Does it help?" He walked across the room and grabbed up a t-shirt from his wardrobe. "We could tear this apart and make a blindfold. Or you could wrap it around your head, but I don't think that's really all that fashionable." At least he's trying, right?
With the exhaustion came a complete and total lack of understanding concepts such as humor, and so she took Sokka's comments completely at face value, frowning a little as she craned her neck to follow him with her eyes. Hermione winced as the shift in perspective brought a bright flash of pain behind her eyes, and she closed them while bringing a hand to her temple.
"I don't-... I don't know," she murmured, rubbing at her forehead. "I get a bit of a headache whenever I try to close my eyes, but I also have one when they're open, so I don't know if one could really be better or worse than the other. Do you think the blindfold would work? I'll try anything."
His decision to stay the remainder of the year had given him the opportunity to gather up some collectibles and stay in contact with those few people he'd come to know around the area. Somehow, it felt easier to transition away when he could ease himself into the process slowly. There would be no big goodbye celebration, no letters of fond farewell; Sokka would say his goodbyes when the time was right, and then he would be gone to leave his sister enjoy her last year with her peers, this time uninhibited by his presence.
The room he occupied on campus had moved again -- something the tribesman had grown accustomed -- so when it was Granger on the other side of the door, Sokka was surprised to realize she'd actually tracked him down.
"Hermione, I wasn't, ah..." He shook his head and gestured with a small smile. "Come on in, if you want." When he stepped aside, he revealed the area to her. It wasn't small, not in the least, but so sparse it could pass for empty if not for the wardrobe and bed and the few candles that brightened the dark walls. The room was much, much taller than it was wide or long; the ceiling stretched up to high windows that showed off the tumultuous clouds roiling above the school.
Sokka's eyebrows knit together, inspecting Granger in the gruesomely low light. "Are you okay?" Worse thoughts hit him and he added, "Is Katara all right?"
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Stepping into his quarters, Hermione blinked as she tried to look around, but it didn't help any. Closing her eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to groan.
"Katara's fine," she told him, since that seemed to be the most important point to him right now. "I just... I have a problem."
Fishing into the pocket of her robes, she eventually withdrew the medallion, which was still glowing faintly. "Do you remember this?" she asked, holding it out to him. "What does it mean to you?"
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When he finally laid his eyes on the medallion, glowing blue in her hand, he closed his mouth with a snap and actually took a step back away from it. "I remember," he replied, honestly. Obviously, whatever was happening to cause the trinket to glow wasn't a good thing because Granger looked tired and less than thrilled. "What's wrong with it?" Sokka asked, then catching Hermione's expression, he added to his list of questions. "What's wrong with you? You look... spooked. And maybe a little sick... Do you want to sit down? He gestured first to an uncomfortable wooden chair, then to his bed, offering for her to take her pick. "Can I get you a drink? Water or pumpkin juice or something?"
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"I don't-... I haven't been sleeping well," she replied lamely. "I don't know... every time I look outside, I just see sunlight. All the time. It could be midnight, and I'll swear it's noontime. And I keep seeing things and it's weighing down on me, and all of a sudden this medallion started glowing, and you need to tell me what's happening." Her last words were almost a yell as she clenched her hands into fists at her side, and she glared at him, obviously distressed and hating that her anger seemed to be aimed towards him.
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He ran a hand through his loose hair, awkwardly fumbling through a mental index of other comforts he could offer the already upset witch. "I knew that thing was bad news the second I saw it," he fibbed, glaring at the table where the Water Tribe artifact sat glowing, so seemingly harmless to all. He could see blue light being emitted from where he stood, and in an effort to be helpful, he stepped up to it and used a quill tip to flip it on top its front.
"It doesn't say anything, but there are some dots that make a familiar pattern," he informed her. "It's the stars back home -- at the South Pole, I mean."
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"Does it mean anything?" she asked, closing her eyes to lessen the headache she had. "Is it some sort of significant constellation? The mark of a tribe known for placing curses on people? It has to be a curse; things don't just start glowing by coincidence when someone in the vicinity is sick."
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Without touching the actual tusk material, the young squib lifted the whole piece to investigate it from all angles. "They're the stars of my birthday or thereabout," Sokka explained, surprised of the fact himself. If he had to venture a guess, he'd say the map being outlined in pinpricks of light was current.
He frowned and placed the piece back on a flat surface to rest. When he turned back to Hermione, Sokka had his hands on his hips. "So, you're seeing... sunlight? Even now?" When he looked up, it was easy to confirm it wasn't sunny out at all. Stepping closer to the bedside, he wondered over the odd occurrence, unsure what it really had to do with him but willing to help however he could.
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"I don't know if it's sunlight," she mumbled, her voice a bit garbled. "But it's definitely brighter in here than it should be. All around the castle... do you have any idea what some of these dark hallways look like in full light? It's disturbing. And when I'm outside... I don't know, it's gotten worse as the days have gone by."
Realizing that she was close to sobbing, she forced her hand to clutch against the coverlet before she choked out, "I'm sorry, Sokka, I just didn't know who else to turn to when I saw the medallion. Please tell me you can help me. Please."
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Sokka, at a loss for what to do, took a seat on the edge of the bed and gingerly laid his hand on Granger's back. "I'll do everything I can," he responded, gently, hoping his utter lack of an instant and absolute solution wouldn't upset her even more. "Just rest there a second and I'll think of something."
The young man had no idea what to do, initially. He turned to lean his elbows on his knees, head dipped, shoulders hunched, back rounded. Hermione, being the cleverest of witches in Sokka's eyes, hadn't found a solution in magic, a fact that didn't bode well for either of them. If the answer to breaking the curse wasn't magical, then they needed a different solution, likely non-magical.
Sokka smirked to himself. Somehow, he didn't think a warm glass of milk was going to do. Sitting up and turning slightly to observe the girl in his bed, the young man scratched at his temple. "Have you tried having someone read you a bedtime story? Those always put me to sleep," he joked, heart half in it. Tentatively, he reached back out, this time making the extra effort to rub soothingly at his friend's back. It wasn't an unfamiliar gesture to him, though he guessed it might be for her.
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She initially tensed when she felt that hand on her back, but slowly forced out a breath and managed to relax at the sound of his gentle words. His voice was soft, soothing, and she found that it wasn't too difficult to believe that Sokka would figure out how to fix this, and that it will all be all right.
Her breathing slowly evened out, but any time she dozed off, the dim red of the light outside her eyelids (or inside her mind) invaded the peace, and she furrowed her brow as her eyes blinked open. Sokka wasn't touching her anymore, and she suddenly felt light-headed and ill, which she owed to lack of sleep. It wasn't too long, though, until she felt his hand rubbing at her back, and though it felt strange, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if the calmness that seeped over her stemmed from that.
"No," she murmured, not really realizing that he was joking. "No one's read to me since I was a child." She shifted a little, her back moving beneath his hand. Not wanting him to think that she wanted him to stop, she muttered, "Sorry. It just feels a little strange."
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"How do you mean?" he finally asked, deciding he'd second guess himself a dozen times otherwise. Better to ask it straight and to know for sure (though he'd certainly not opt for that option if she weren't looking pale and tired.) "Is strange bad?" In case she wasn't following his line of thinking, he lifted his hand to hold it away from her back.
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"This kind of thing's pretty common where I come from," he informed Hermione, though a second to think on it had him clarifying. "Affection, I mean. Back rubbing, hand-holding, hugs and all that." In fact, it had been so common in his community, the young man had genuinely felt awkward the first year he'd arrived at Hogwarts to see how little people shared touch.
In the public eye, he tended to draw back a lot. In private quarters, though, Sokka chose to keep going, likely enjoying the contact underneath all of his worry more than he was willing to admit. "If it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop," he offered, intent on her comfort. His free hand came up, and just in case, he pressed the back of his fingers to her forehead to ascertain whether she had a fever or not.
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Still, while it was odd... it was nice. In a weird kind of way.
"No," she murmured, her hand absently coming up when she felt him touch her forehead. After batting at his wrist for a few moments, she managed to grab at it lightly. "It's just unusual, not uncomfortable. It's the least uncomfortable thing that's happened to me recently."
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"I'm glad it's not uncomfortable." He stood, lurking bedside and rubbing at his chin thoughtfully. It had been a long time since he'd experienced sleeplessness, and even then, it hadn't lasted. The odd, unearthly feeling was not something he envied seeing in his friend. She hardly seemed the same person, though he found her no less charming for it.
Running through ideas, he asked, "What happens if you cover your eyes? Does it help?" He walked across the room and grabbed up a t-shirt from his wardrobe. "We could tear this apart and make a blindfold. Or you could wrap it around your head, but I don't think that's really all that fashionable." At least he's trying, right?
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"I don't-... I don't know," she murmured, rubbing at her forehead. "I get a bit of a headache whenever I try to close my eyes, but I also have one when they're open, so I don't know if one could really be better or worse than the other. Do you think the blindfold would work? I'll try anything."
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