BLOOD MAGIC | G. WEASLEY

37 - The Dinner From Hell

musical mood: orgel – e.so

Back in December, Cass had vowed to herself to never speak to her father again, a vow that would be unwillingly broken only seven months later.

There had been a knock at the door, to which Cass stood up from her round of Wizards Chess with Ron to answer. A pleasant interruption, since she had been losing miserably.

And now, the man who had been responsible for nearly every terrible thing that had happened to Cass now stood only feet in front of her, at the entrance to the Burrow, dressed as posh as usual. He clearly looked just as surprised to see her as she was him, his brown eyes wide and his lips split apart.

She slammed the door shut.

"Who was it?" Molly called out from the dining room, which she was cleaning vigorously.

"No one." Cass responded, hoping the tremble in her voice didn't give her lie away.

"Is Mr. Crouch here already?" Percy's head poked out from the living room.

"You knew he was coming?!"

"Er, yeah, we invited him for dinner. We told you this."

"No you didn't! Arthur said you should invite him last week, not that you actually did!"

"Oh. That's my bad, then, my apologies." Percy said as he pushed past her to open the door, his shoulder brushing against hers as he did. She fought the urge to shove him. "Hello Mr. Crouch! Do come in."

Bloody pushover.

"I'm going to kill you, Percy Weasley." Cass muttered under her breath as Bartemius stepped into the Burrow, looking far less dishevelled as he did before. He must've managed to collect himself – which was surprising that he had to do such. Cass would've figured he'd at least tried to figure out where she was spending the summer, it wasn't like it would've been difficult. But of course, he never did care.

"Hello, Weatherby. Hello, Cassiopeia." He said her name with no emotion, as though she meant nothing to him.

"Weatherby?" Cass raised her eyebrows, glancing at Percy, who simply shrugged.

Of course. She shook her head, feeling an odd tang of sympathy for Percy. He couldn't bother to remember his name.

"Mr. Crouch! It's so lovely to meet you!" Molly rushed out of the dining room to greet him, shaking his hand enough enthusiasm to make Bartemius shift uncomfortably. "I've heard lots about you from Arthur! Thank you so much for hiring my son, this internship will be wonderful for him."

"Mum!" Percy pursed his lips together, an embarrassed blush creeping onto his cheeks.

"Right, Mr. Crouch, let me show you to the dining room. Dinner should be ready soon. My apologies for the mess..."

"Please, call me Bartemius."

As Molly and Bartemius walked away, Cass shot a furious glare at Percy.

"You're a prat, you know that, right?"

"So I've been told." He shrugged. Clearly the insult didn't bother him. "Why do you hate him so much?"

"That's none of your business."

"You're making it my business, by behaving like this. By being angry at me for taking this internship – which you have no right to be upset about, by the way. It isn't like we're friends. I hardly know you, and I doubt that will ever change. So grow up, and be thankful you have a father in the first place."