Zach's lip curled slightly at the mention of Potter. Alright, so the prat had saved them all from the Dark Lord. But he was still a prat. Zach refrained from comment, not wanting to alienate Brown, and made a non-committal noise and pushed the calimari to the middle of the table, offering some to Brown.
"I hope so," he said, turning his salmon plate around and cutting into the fish. "I think you'd like the new brooms. If you want to write an article... I'd let you have a look. The store models are just finished up, undergoing final testing before we unveil."
It was a generous offer for him- far from his usual antipathy for discussing his work with anyone but his superiors- but it would be good promotion for the Millenium Twos, and perhaps it would help with that whole former-Falcons-player thing.
Zach forked a bite of salmon into his mouth, feeling happy about the food and the prospect of positive, non-tabloid press coverage. He nearly choked, however, his face freezing at the mention of Fenrir Greyback. How had he forgotten about that? Zach had not been at the battle of Hogwarts long, but he'd heard all about it. He remembered feeling sorry for the poor girl. Zach's own turning had been a painful, excruciating affair, and he had done enough research to know that female victims rarely survived being bitten, even if they hadn't been fully infected with lycanthropy. He didn't know if Brown had become a werewolf or not; clearly, it wasn't something most of them advertised. But the fact that she'd survived an attack by Greyback was nothing short of amazing.
It also explained why she smelled like she did, for him. She shared something with him, if not a sire, something in the blood. And it also explained why her appetite nearly matched his. Zach didn't see how he could ask her about it, though. Not without revealing himself.
He coughed, and forced himself to take another bite of salmon. "Fenrir thing. That's a pretty casual way of referencing a werewolf attack. Incredible you lived to have stories told, yeah?"