James didn't know who this bloke was nor did he care. He wasn't there to insult or argue, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't. He put his plate down, and rubbed his hands together.
"I don't know my grandfather, and I don't plan to imitate him, but if you don't shut up, you'll find that I can beat you up to a bloody pulp, and I don't even care what happens to me." Which was nothing, because he was the poor hexed boy. It might be a scandal, but it wouldn't be anything long lasting. News of his death would be so much more important.