Father of the Witch

Chapter 4: Bryan Malfoy

"Well, if there's one thing Malfoy's good at, it's signing a fat cheque, am I right?" Harry grinned at me, and not for the first time that night, I violently squashed the feeling that the Wonder Twins knew about what had happened in Beverly Hills.

The terrace doors swung open. It was Bryan. "Hi everybody...Sorry, I'm late!"

Everyone greeted him with varying levels of enthusiasm. Bryan jogged over to the table, kissed Annie on the lips, and presented a bottle of wine to Hermione. "Here you are..."

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed softly. She smiled brilliantly at him. "Thank you!"

Bryan blushed. "Selv tak. It's 'you're welcome,' in Danish."

Hermione and Annie both laughed musically. Scorpius and I shared a skeptical look. He suspected that Bryan had a small crush on Hermione, and now I had to admit that perhaps he was right. Well, that was too damned bad. He couldn't have the both of them. I made no secret of my possessive streak.

"Please, Bryan, sit down. These are our very dear family friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley," Hermione introduced.

"Nice to meet you, Bryan," Harry smiled.

"Pleasure, mate," Ron nodded.

"Nice to meet you too!" Bryan grinned and shook both of their hands before he sat. "This all looks great! I hear you're a wiz at the barbeque, Dad."

My mouth went dry with rage, and Harry and Ron stilled. But before I could think of anything to say, besides the fact that I had barbecued exactly none of the food prepared, Hermione cleanly cut in, addressing Annie.

"Your grandparents called to give you their congratulations, and to tell you that they certainly will be home for the wedding."

"Narcissa and...Lucius, right?" Bryan checked.

"Yes, darling," Hermione said to Bryan. "They're thrilled to meet you."

I shared a glance of dark amusement with Harry and Ron at the idea of anyone except my mother or Hermione calling my father by his given name so casually, let alone being 'thrilled' to meet...well, anybody. I made a mental note for the future to tell Bryan that my father preferred to be addressed by his first name only.

"What is old Lucy up to these days, huh?" Ron asked. "Is he still swimming in money?"

Last I had heard from him, he was in Vail, Colorado, and I hoped he was still enjoying it within an inch of his rich bloody life. Not that I cared, particularly, with what or how my father chose to entertain himself and Mother, just as long as Hermione hadn't had his ear any time recently. The second we got back in the car after what happened at Bryan's parents' house, she had threatened to tell him what an absolute jerk I was being about this wedding business. The official story was that I had gotten lost and fallen into the pool after the dogs cornered me, leaving the MacKenzies to find the soggy chequebook themselves and wonder how it had grown legs and decided to go for a dip. I admit that Hermione had hit her target, though; the very last person I wanted finding out about my slight embarrassment was Lucius Malfoy. For now, I'd bide my time. But Ron's seemingly innocuous question sounded too much like a taunt...because it was.

Ron's face—stuffed with steak and scallops simultaneously—was wide with a close-lipped, knowing smirk.

She had told them. Of course.

While Annie was happily telling Ron all about her grandparents' vacation in America, I jerked my wrist under the table and my wand slid out from inside my jacket sleeve. I mentally aimed while still looking down and continuing to navigate my fork around my plate with my left hand. Being ambidextrous, this would luckily not alert anyone. The stinging hex connected squarely with Ron's solar plexus and he choked.