Who: Grayson Wilkes and Ophelia Llewellyn
What: A bit less than happy goodbye
When: January 2nd 1978
Where: Llewellyn Estate, then Platform 9 3/4

Grayson felt a little silly escorting Ophelia to the Platform, but he could not quite convince himself it was a good idea to let her go on his own. She'd slept in the same bed with him, he'd kept his gloves off ... and it had been a rather pleasant experience. Surely she wouldn't mind him escorting her, at least?

He stepped down the hall toward Ophelia's room, ignoring the chattering the young woman's mother was doing in his ear. No, he was sure that Ophelia was just fine, yes, he would go and check on her. He knocked on her doorframe before he spoke.

"Your mother would like to know 'what is taking you quite so long'." It wasn't a very good imitation.

Ophelia laughed in appreciation anyway, hoping it was audible through the door. "Hold on, I'll--" She opened the door, a set of robes and uniform skirt under her arm. "--Tell her to hold her bloody horses. We aren't leaving for another half hour."

Stepping out of the doorway but not closing the door was her invitation for Grayson to come in and make himself comfortable as she finished packing up her trunk. She wasn't exactly relishing going back to Hogwarts after the holidays, and it was at least somewhat evident in the way she was more haphazardly tossing things into the trunk, rather than laying them in neatly.

She had been looking around on her desk when she spotted her journal out of the corner of her eye--immediately, she recalled the argument she'd had with Gideon not twenty four hours earlier.. that much brought a cross look to her face and with the sound the leather-bound book made as it hit the wood of the trunk--well, one could understand that she was not exactly happy with things between them right now.

"I will do that, but I doubt it will keep her quiet." Grayson watched the way she tossed her things in and frowned, wandering over to where she was tossing things and beginning to mutter folding spells. Yes, he's a bit of a neat freak. Can you blame him?

Oh, but the journal. "Ophelia," he tried to keep his voice unassuming, "Has your leather-bound journal done something to offend you?" He did sound at least a little genuinely concerned.

Ophelia stopped her annoyed gathering of papers on her desk to turn and stare at the place where she'd thrown her journal--well, more like glare--before she sighed and shifted her gaze to him.

"Not so much the book as the people who write in it," she conceded. "It's nothing, I had a... misunderstanding... with my Quidditch captain--well, ex-Quidditch captain--and I haven't wanted to look at the bloody thing since."

"Ex-quidditch captain?" He did sound ... surprised. While he'd mentioned it wasn't exactly a lady-like sport, he hadn't expected her to quit - at least, not so quickly and without telling him formally. Grayson slid from the spot near the trunk he'd been sitting.

"And what, praytell, did said arguement entail?" Some part of him felt irritated that he cared at all, since she'd quit - but she seemed upset about it.

Ophelia was surprised that he was asking, that he did actually care--or at least was acting like he did. He was the one who had not-so-subtly told her that she was supposed to find something 'less dangerous' to do, so what should he care beyond the fact that she had done it? So what if she'd gotten into an argument about it with her captain?

... why did she feel compelled to tell him?

"It's just..." Ophelia sighed again and turned around fully to face him, leaning against the desk. "I told him I was quitting and he didn't take it well--he shouted about 'how could you do this to me, how could you do this to the team'... We've got a game in January and it's going to be really difficult to find a new seeker."

Well, Grayson didn't know how to feel about that. He really did dislike Quidditch as a sport for women, since it was dangerous ... but on the other hand, she hadn't gotten hurt just yet, and he would sufficiently kill anyone who managed to seriously injure her anyway. If her captain was shouting and they had a game in January... Merlin, she had some sort of responsibility to the school. And it would look rather bad for the family if she disgraced her house.

There was no need for that. "Then you might do best not to disappoint them, I suppose." It was his casual way of suggesting that perhaps she should just finish the season. It was only a few months, anyway - and she'd spent long enough in Quidditch that it couldn't be more damaging, right?

Ophelia didn't think she had been this shocked at something she had heard since... okay, since her mother had told her she was supposed to be marrying this man... He was--he couldn't possibly be--he was saying that he wanted her to finish out the season and continue to play? Quidditch? He wanted her to play Quidditch?

Merlin, she was going to faint. Apparently she had gauged Grayson all wrong--his displays of kindness and gentleness these past few days had not been just the offspring of a good mood... maybe he had much more of a heart than she had ever given him credit for. If nothing else did, this proved it.

"Are you saying--? I mean... you're serious?" Ophelia asked, sounding extremely tentative. After all, something this shocking and it had to be a joke, right?

"It would be far more damaging for your House to leave, and as much as I think Ravenclaw is filled with indecisive prats the majority of the time, I should think it would be more damaging to your reputation to have you quit so suddenly." People might think she was irrational or unreliable, and no doubt there would be rumors about that.

He most certainly did not want her to play Quidditch, but he supposed that she seemed ... at least as if it was important to her. And it was for only a few months - he could perhaps deal with that. He'd just have to not think about it. And that didn't mean he still wouldn't frown upon her playing it.

Ophelia really didn't want to seem too eager or excited, but she could hardly help the magnitude of her reaction as she went over and threw her arms around him. And at least she was showing him how thoroughly thankful she was for it. Merlin, Quidditch was the one thing that had helped her come into her own at Hogwarts and--it meant more than anything for him to be allowing her to play, even if he didn't know all that.

Of course, there was still the question of whether Gideon was ever going to allow her back on the team after the thoroughly nasty words they'd exchanged, but--ah, she could deal with that later. One hurdle at a time.

"Thank you so much, I can't--I can't even say--"

That reassured Grayson a little - she really did seem to be dedicated to it, so he could always argue to anyone that questioned him that she was already maladjusted from their engagement and that it would be cruel to disrupt her even more.

...that almost sounded logical. It was perfect. He blinked - her arms were around him and he didn't mind it so much - and then smoothed her hair back just a little. "Well, it only makes sense."

Forget everything she'd said before about how she wished he'd be easier to hate. Ophelia loved that he was being easy to like because that gave her hope... if she was to marry him, then it would be much better if she didn't hate him, after all.

She must have given him the most brilliant grin ever when she looked up at him--nevermind that she was acting more like a teenaged girl than she had since she met him, this was definitely the sort of occasion that could allow at least a little giggly moment. "I--really, thank you so much--It means.. it means a lot to me."

He supposed it was tolerable that she was acting like this. At least she was grateful, instead of being some sort of hateful little brat about it. It was almost .. endearing. Almost. Grayson glanced at the clock.

"Your mother is going to be having a fit about now if we do not get to the Floo on time." He cast a glance to her bags and then offered his arm to her, as was proper.

"Oh--right--" Ophelia seemed somewhat flustered as she pulled reluctantly away from him (at least until she was only arm-in-arm with him) and busied herself with closing her trunk with a flick of her wand. "Yes, I suppose she woudln't be." Grayson being up there with her was probably the only reason the harpie wasn't screaming her head off about the time.

It was a surprising feeling, this reluctance she felt when she thought of going back to school... and it wasn't just because of Gideon or Smeth or anyone else that she had to deal with--she also felt a sense of longing not to leave here. Grayson was... he was so easy to be with, once she had gotten to know him a bit and--it was going to be a difficult adjustment, to not see him every day.. or spend more nights in his bed, she thought with a barely supressed blush.

If Grayson noticed that particular blush, he chose to ignore it for the moment. He nodded and then moved to float the trunk along behind them while they walked to the fireplace room, still arm-in-arm. He was sure that her mother would be happy to see that, at least, and then perhaps she wouldn't natter in his ear while they waited for the train on the Platform.

He had to admit that being around Ophelia had been an oddly calming experience, and he was not quite sure what he would fill his days with. Work, most likely, which was a perfectly suitable replacement. Probably more productive, too.

"Shall we?" Being late would be unacceptable.
Caelestis Kibeth: "Of course."

She nodded and, letting go of his arm, took a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace. Within seconds, the emerald flames had died away and she was standing (albeit unsteadily) in the adjoining Floo station that had been set up on Platform 9 3/4. She stepped out quickly upon feeling a warmth at her back and by the time she had turned around, her fiancée was standing there in front of her.

He glanced down the platform to see if the Train had arrived yet - he wasn't going to leave her to stand alone here, and it wasn't as if he had anything pressing to do. Grayson rested a hand on her hip and leaned forward to kiss her rather impulsively, his other hand curling up into her hair.

What did it matter who might've been standing around?

What was--oh--oh he was kissing her and... and they were in a public train station, oh Merlin. A public train station where a thousand of her schoolmates were milling about, those who knew she had dumped Smeth and most certainly did not know about Grayson and oh--oh god, this was not good. But--okay, yes, the kissing was good, but the location was so far off and--oh oh how could she explain this to him? It would be insulting to admit she hadn't told her friends about him and--

Gently, Ophelia pulled back, giving him an apologetic smile. "That's ah--a bit brave for public eyes, isn't it?" she asked quietly, looking around just a tad suspiciously.

Her reaction was -- well, downright confusing. They had been getting on so well that he didn't think it was entirely brazen to kiss her in public, and there hadn't been any tongue ... but if his feelings were hurt, he certainly didn't show it. His hand did drop abruptly from her hip.

"Apparently," he remarked dryly, voice taking on the indifferent tone it usually had. He glanced up the track. "I do believe your train is arriving, Miss Ophelia."

She felt a shiver run through her at the way that his voice changed so quickly. He didn't look hurt, but his tone suggested he was at least annoyed about how she had reacted to that... Oi, that was not the reaction she had been hoping for. Even if she didn't say outright that she hadn't told her friends about this relationship, this was the same sort of offense, looking as if she didn't want to be seen with him romantically in public. At this point, she didn't, but that was besides it all right now and..

Ugh, the last thing she wanted to do was leave him with a bad impression, but--

Ophelia turned to see the Hogwarts Express arriving on the platform and--well...well what the fuck, everyone's attention would be held by the train for at least a few seconds and--She spun back around to him and leaned up quickly, holding onto his shoulder, and kissed him, quite a bit more fiercely than he had kissed her initially. She lingered there for a long moment before drawing back.

"I'll see you soon."

He had been able to brilliantly deduce that she most likely had not told her friends about him. Admittedly, he had not quite been thinking about that fact when he had kissed her - oddly enough, he had been thinking that he was not going to see her for some time and that a kiss might be considered proper under the circumstances. And she had, apparently, thought otherwise.

And yet now she was kissing him again? Merlin, women were so confusing. Thank goodness he didn't have to figure them out for himself completely. He pressed back from her attempt at the deep kiss for reasons he was not going to explain to her and set her luggage in front of her.

"I suppose so." The same dryness. He apparated with a pop to the nearest alleyway. He needed to kill something.