[victoria] dear, i fear we're facing a problem | hefin

June 2002

The serenity of the morning, often a time for quiet contemplation over breakfast and tea was suddenly interrupted by the shrill scream of a very disgruntled eighteen-year old witch.

Genevieve Grosvenor slammed the copy of the Daily Prophet onto the table violently, moving to her feet just as quickly. Effie, her maid, unsure of why the young woman had grown so displeased so suddenly, took a step back, pulling the last curler out of her mistress’ hair as she did. "Famous Quidditch player Hefin Howell and venerated violinist Christèle Deveaux have publicly confirmed their relationship status as a couple. The two socialites have begun dating shortly after meeting for the first time in March, the pair having been spotted attending several events and shows together since then.,” she read slowly, her tone of voice steady before she turned to her maid, her eyes widening just slightly as a cynical smile grazed her features, “Can you believe this nonsense?” she asked, but the woman stayed quiet. Even Effie knew that the couple had been seen together before but thought it unwise to bring it up to the volatile teenager. “I think Hef’s gone absolutely mad, Effie, can you see it now?” she asked but the woman busied herself with something else in an effort to avoid the woman’s line of fire.

The day continued as scheduled, classes followed by meetings followed by afternoon tea with a few friends where the gossip and the mimosas flowed freely. In a way only Genevieve could, she kept a smile on her face, calm as her girlfriends went on a rant about the things they knew about the couple. Genevieve listened in her nonchalant manner, rolling her eyes at the mention of the name of @Hefin Howell  throughout the conversation but her ears opened in case any new information was exchanged. But as the day progressed, she became increasingly irritated, a copy of the Daily Prophet seemingly tossed in her face everywhere she went, her eyes drawn to the announcement like a moth to a light. And by the end of the day, soon after dinner had been completed and when everyone in the Grosvenor estate had decided to begin preparing for bed, she made her escape, apparating promptly to the Quidditch player’s home, looking around to make sure that there were no prying eyes before she knocked urgently on the door.

Genevieve tapped her foot impatiently against the floor, a copy of the offending article in one hand, her bag under the other as she waited. And then he appeared, recently showered she assumed as he was in nothing but a towel, her eyes trailing the rivulets of water that made a pathway down his neck and chest. She remembered being under that very body just last summer, it had been a good time. The Quidditch captain had always held a sort of allure for her, mostly because he was unlike any man she had ever gone after before. Genevieve was not ashamed to say that she had a type, a sort of category that Hefin Howell had no business belonging to so a night with him had been almost like owning a snidget. Though at the very moment, Genevieve would have much preferred to own a snidget than to have Hefin to herself. She shook her head, narrowing her eyes as she looked up at him with disgust. She would not let his attractiveness get her distracted.

“Have you lost your bloody mind?” she asked, her words proceeded from her mouth slowly, punctuated with an air of ire. The displeasure was evident on her features as she slapped the morning’s copy of the Daily Prophet against his naked chest with a soft thud. “How dare you start dating someone and not make me privy of it, hm?” she continued her tirade, pushing past him to make her way inside of the home. “Don’t you know how silly I look when I am not aware of these things? Here you are prancing about with some woman for months and you don’t even have the decency to drop a line and tell me about it? But of course you didn’t, because you knew how I would react upon hearing about whatever mindless arrangement you’ve made with some…girl,” she added, her high heels clicking against the dark wood as her eyes trailed up the grand staircase before her, “She isn’t here, now, is she?” she inquired, not that she cared.

In fact, her voice became slightly louder in case the woman was here and then Genevieve would not have to repeat herself. She brought a hand up to touch her cheek which had slightly reddened due to her exasperation, “Have a drink made, I’ve just about lost my mind and here you haven’t even offered me a modicum of hospitality,” she added, moving her hands up to undo her robes before letting them drop casually at her feet, “That woman,” she started, the tone of her voice bitter, “is for publicity, right? Or have you done something silly and gotten her pregnant?”

“Genevieve?” Impossible. “Genevieve Diane Grosvenor is here?” Hefin inquired on a shocked tone as he got out of the shower, and loosely wrapped a towel around his waist. He glanced at his butler, and could sense a few of the maids glancing into the bathroom through the slightly opened door; of course, how to miss an opportunity of looking at their young master while stepping out of the shower. But Hefin couldn’t even be concerned about that fact in the slightest, for his confusion was genuine. What was the young Grosvenor heiress doing there? And at that hour? Wasn’t it incredibly late for her, considering she did not live on that side of the planet?

Still, he couldn’t ask any questions to his staff, for they had approached him, and even bothered him during his shower after his work-out, for they did not know whether or not to answer the door for the young lady. His staff rarely let in people (read: women) whom were not on Hefin’s list of people he trusted. The women who entered his house and were not part of his direct family could be counted on one hand, honestly. He valued his privacy very highly. Nonetheless, out of everyone on that planet, Genevieve Grosvenor was at his front door.

Hefin sighed, and just indifferently gestured in his butler’s direction as he made his way out of the chamber, and to the main hall. He would handle this. Reaching the front door, he realised that he was still undressed, hadn’t properly dried himself, and was definitely not revealing the image of a presentable gentleman. But, then again, Genevieve was no classy lady – she had the nerve to arrive announced, after all. He opened the door, and arched an eyebrow in her direction as he leaned against the door’s edge. She glanced at him with disgust, let it be that for a few moments there, Genevieve had been rather distracted by his appearance. He smirked, but the witch managed to surprise him once more.

Shortly enough, Genevieve started her monologue, exploding like a volcano. She slapped a copy of a newspaper on his chest, and pushed her way inside the house. Before he could even comment on her invading his personal space, Hefin grabbed the newspaper with his hand and lowered his gaze – the announcement that he was officially dating Christèle was there. His jaw slowly dropped, not at the newspaper, for he was already aware of the article, but because Genevieve’s delusion was more than he could have possibly imagined. Each word that she spoke was just surreal. Definitely out of this world.

He raised his hand to stop her from talking the moment she called his darling Christèle ‘this girl’, but quickly stopped as Genevieve’s voice got louder. She was mad. This was glorious. As she inquired whether or not his girlfriend was there as well, and then started asking even more privy questions, Hefin couldn’t abstain himself from bursting into laughter. The echo of his voice could be heard in the hallway, and several maids came down the stairs, wondering what was happening that their master was so amused. “Merlin.” He said between two laughs, wiping off a tear from the edge of his right eye.

“Oh, Genevieve, this has been great.” Hefin said with a giggle, still not believing what was occurring in front of his eyes. “Put your robes back on and” He paused for a moment, abstaining himself to laughing once more. “please just cope with the fact that you’ll never get to experience great sex again.” He drew closer to her, and gently tapped her right cheek twice, before passing by her and heading up the stairs again. “Thank you for the free show, it has been very entertaining, Miss Grosvenor, but you may leave now.”

Genevieve had always been taught that an argument was won quicker if the opposition was never allowed to speak in the first place. And as such, she did not intend to allow Hefin a word in until she had the opportunity to complete her statement. Whether he agreed with her or not, Genevieve knew that she had every right to be upset. It was more than the fact that he was no longer single; it was a matter of principle. To make matters worse, Hefin and Genevieve had known each other for years, long enough, she hoped, for him to realize that fundamental things such as changes in relationships, upcoming weddings, and even death in the family warranted a visit or at the very least, an owl. It was obvious that all of that time in the media spotlight was turning Hefin rather ill-mannered, she decided, but at least he was still quite handsome.

Of course, by the time he was finally able to interrupt her rant he was very dismissive of her personal feelings on the matter and dared to laugh at her expressed concern. How dare he make her feel as if her concerns were of no importance? He was rather lucky that she had not decided to reach for her wand and hex him for his insolent behavior. No matter how much she wanted to do so, Genevieve understood that in order to get her point across, it was important to continue to be the bigger person. Hefin Howell could learn a thing or two about life from the younger witch. “This is no laughing matter, Hefin,” she responded with a huff, her hand tightening into itself as she frowned in his direction, hoping that her pouting was being taken seriously.

When his hand touched upon her cheek however, no matter how reprimanding the gesture was, she could not help but to soften her expression, her resolve to anger leaving her almost immediately. It was a complicated thing, Genevieve was indeed upset but considering that Hefin was not responding to her emotions as she expected him to, she realized that she had to resort to something a little more…familiar. So when he decided to dismiss her, well there was no way in hell she was going to leave so quickly after having made the trip all the way to his door. If Hefin thought she’d turn around and leave just as fast as she had arrived, well he obviously did not know her as well as she had presumed.

“Now, now, Mr. Howell, crassness does not suit someone of your background,” she replied arrogantly, a coquettish smile playing along the corners of her lips as she watched him pass her by, her foot pushing the robe on the floor further away from her as she wrinkled her nose in displeasure. “This is where you say faites comme chez vous and have your butler bring the best champagne and the most delicious cakes and let me cry on your shoulder, because I am extremely distraught,” she added, the matter of fact tone of her voice betraying the dramatic word she spoke. Genevieve was not above theatrics to get what she wanted, and in all honesty, she was almost certain that Hefin would never take her so seriously that he would be emotionally affected by their interactions. It was all child’s play between them after all.

“And here I thought we were the best of friends, and you cannot even share such…interesting news,” she whined softly, as she moved quickly to reach the Quidditch captain before locking her arm into his, leaning in closer to him for a moment before she looked up at him, her eyes widening slightly in an effort to demonstrate a picture of docility. “Time to be honest, you wouldn’t dare send me home when I’ve made the trip, yes? Let’s have a sleepover, for old time’s sake?” she asked with a wide smile, batting her eyelashes as she mustered the most innocent expression her devilish heart would allow.