WHO: Ophelia Llewellyn & Hippocrates Smethwyck
WHAT: Grayson causes some trouble, indirectly
WHEN: Sometime... ago >_>
WHERE: The Ravenclaw common room

It would be a grave understatement to say that Ophelia's mind was swimming at the moment. Actually, it was more or less chaos. Left in complete shambles. Totally and completely MESSED UP, and it was all the fault of Grayson Wilkes. Fuck, she didn't get it, she thought he was out of her life two months ago when she had walked out on their wedding, but now he was talking to her, being civil, running into her in Hogsmeade, now he was sending her fucking 8,000 galleon bottles of perfume, writing her completely pleasant letters... Could a person blame her for not knowing what to think?

Well, she did know one thing--she could not have Smeth knowing about any of this. After all, it didn't matter how nicely he was treating her or what turns their relationship had taken in the past couple days, it was nothing--nothing, she would keep telling herself this until she could no more--and Smeth had been thrown around enough already by the whole Grayson thing... he didn't deserve to be worried over it. With a huff of determination, Ophelia pushed the last letter she had received from Grayson forward on the table, along with the perfume, and sat back into the common room couch, crossing her arms over her chest. She had to forget about all of this, there was really no point in letting him bother her like this... ugh.

Hippocrates Smethwyck could fully admit that he, like the entire population of Hogwarts, was entirely addicted to his journal. However, now that his time was being so consumed by everything that was Oz, he could barely do more than enter a small entry and peek at his friend's. His girlfriend's last two entries, however, made him so concerned that he could barely concentrate through dinner in high anticipation of their planned walk. Hopefully it wouldn't be anything too serious.

So with that in mind, he entered the common room, and took in the sight of a rather put-out looking Lia. Taking a seat next to her, he placed an arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. "Hey you."

In all truth, Ophelia had been so determined upon her thoughts that she had forgotten to pay attention to her surroundings--as a result, Smeth's appearance was completely unanticipated, and if she hadn't caught herself in time, might have even elicited a small squeak from her. What it did do, however, was cause her to jump forward immediately (almost missing his kiss entirely in her rush) and grab the perfume and letter off the table... despite the fact that if she was looking to keep it from him, it would have done much better on the table.

As fate would have it, she realized this about two seconds too late, and now was stuck sitting there, awkward and nervous and completely suspicious, just holding the two items to her chest tightly.

"Uh--hey," she offered sheepishly

These days, it was extremely evident how spacey or out of it Smeth seemed, because of his heavy schedule and work load. However, no matter how tired someone was, one would always noticed when someone snatched things away, especially two very suspicious looking items. Smeth arched a brow, looking intrigued and amused, and couldn't help but laugh. "What's that you've got there, Lia?" he asked, playfully poking her in her sides. He tickled her - oh, so he was a dirty fighter, but really! What were those things? He was dying to find out.

Ohhhhhh, she wished he wouldn't do that--anything but the poking, it was the one thing she couldn't stand up against, and in less than ten seconds she was reluctantly laughing. Fuuuuuck him for playing so dirty because this wasn't funny and it wasn't cool and couldn't he see that whatever she had was something he couldn't see! Apparently not, or he would have stopped before Lia was forced to drop the items out of her arms to push Smeth's away from her because, which she had just done and oh no, both went tumbling to the floor at his feet and--

"Hey, two can play at this game!" She switched her expression to false playfulness to mask the sheer terror she was feeling at that letter being so close to him, and attempted to return the tickle attack to keep his mind off them.

"Heeeey I thought I had told you that I was so not ticklish!" Smeth couldn't help but laugh as Lia's hands were suddenly all over him, and he squirmed, pratically yelling with laughter, falling onto his side on the couch. As he twisted in a fresh attempt to inch away, he had nearly forgotten about the mysterious items that Lia had been holding, until one of them - a letter of some sort - was right next to his face.

All laughter immediately drained from his face as he read the last line on the letter and sat up, picking up the piece of parchment in one smooth motion. "So, uh... what's this?"

Plan officially failed. No, not just failed--gone crashing to the ground in a flaming heap.

Lia gulped, sitting back up and away from Smeth slowly and going just a little white. "Uh...it's...well, it's a letter," she answered pathetically. Hell, she had no idea what to say, that was why she hadn't wanted him to see it--besides the fact that he looked horrible, just like she had predicted and oh damn it all, what was Grayson's problem coming back like this, all of a sudden and messing with everything and-- Wringing her hands a little, Lia stared down into her lap, feeling ashamed despite the fact that she had done nothing wrong. "From Grayson."

Smeth's throat tightened and he barely managed a nod as he quickly skimmed over the letter. Resisting the extreme urge to either crush it or throw it into the fire, he instead chose to hand it silently back to Lia. He looked down for a moment, not knowing what to say, when something caught his eye. He picked up the perfume bottle, noting how the glass seemed to catch the light and sparkle before handing it to Lia as well.

"Well, this looks expensive." He looked perfectly normal, save for two red spots on his cheeks, and his mouth was pressed in a thin line. Going straight for the point, he said, without preamble, "So what's this supposed to mean?"

"It is," she answered quietly, before hearing his second comment--question--whatever it was, it caused her to nearly lose her breath.

That was a difficult question, and not just because of the implications behind it. It was difficult because she didn't know that it was supposed to mean, she didn't understand Grayson, or what he meant, or what he was doing at all. If she didn't understand him, how was she supposed to explain him to Smeth? Lia supposed she couldn't. "I.. don't know. He just--I saw him in Hogsmeade, and we talked...and it was confusing and strange and awkward... and then he sent me this."

"Well, what are you going to do?" Smeth's eyes rested on the extremely expensive perfume. Ugh. Unwittingly, a memory popped in his head, when he and his sisters went shopping for Pheebs' last birthday. Pheebs had placed a bottle of perfume in his hand when they were in a high end department store, and when he asked how much was it, he had almost literally dropped the bottle when he heard the seven thousand fifty galleon price tag. The bottle that Lia was currently holding looked to be, if possible, even more expensive. Who paid that much for perfume? Merlin.

"You're going to give that... thing back, yeah?" He couldn't help it, he had to inject as much distaste and annoyance in his voice as possible. Because it only seemed right, after all, Lia was his girlfriend; she was not going out with that rich, blood-obsessed, handsome, older (maybe it was best if he stopped while he was ahead) bloke.

Lia didn't know what surprised her more, what he was asking, or the disgusted way in which Smeth had referred to the bottle--either way, she was more than just a little taken aback and--Was he really asking her to throw that expensive a present away? Sure, it was from Grayson, but--well Merlin, she'd run away from her wedding, was it even possible he could be jealous? Hadn't she proved that she had chosen him? And even if he had asked, it wouldn't be as bad if he hadn't sounded so appalled by the whole idea of the gift...

Suddenly, and without reason, feeling warmth surge through her, she narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend and grabbed the bottle from the table. "No! No, I'm not going to give it back!" she replied, agitated. "He bought it while we were still engaged and it's expensive and he sent it so it wouldn't go to waste, so--no, I shouldn't have to, just because you've got a problem with it!"

Smeth was probably just as surprised as Lia was, so he just gazed at her for a few moments, looking equal parts extremely annoyed and astounded. "A problem with it?" he repeated. "Of course I bloody well have a problem with it! You said yourself that he bought it for you when you two were engaged, and although all right, it will go to a waste, you shouldn't want it anyway. It's from him." He couldn't bring himself to even say the name.

Admittedly, he wasn't an angry person, and it did take a lot to get him annoyed, but between increasing pressure that came with the Oz production and now Grayson Wilkes, he wondered how he was able to keep his fuse unlit for so long.

"Him?" she mocked his voice, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest, looking down at Smeth in equal parts disbelief and frustration. How dare he refer to Grayson, a completely agreeable, generous gentleman, as if he were Voldemort himself! He didn't even know him! "Don't talk like he's just some--some thing!" she spat, "Grayson's a good man and--and and you know, I can't believe that you'd think a bloody bottle of perfume is going to change how I feel about you! Do you really have that little trust in me, that you're scared of Grayson stealing me away from hundreds of miles away, with a tiny bottle of perfume? Sweet Circe--"

Ophelia spun around, unable to look at him anymore, she was so mad. Bloody hell, bloody hell...

"Fine!" Smeth shouted at her - or rather, at her retreating back. "See if I bloody care. Keep the perfume. Do whatever, write him back! I don't care!" Enraged, he kicked over a nearby coffee table, and savagely relished the resulting crash when it turned over. He barely registered the look of complete shock from a second year girl that he used to tutor, and stormed out of the common room, needing a place where he could think, and get his head together.

See if she thought that he cared. Well, he did, but this was honestly so idiotic that he couldn't believe it. Fine. Fine.