A Broken Inheritance

Chapter 4: A Newfound Fixation

But, as it turned out, solitude was too much to hope for.

"Enjoying the view?" came a familiar voice, sharp and unwelcome.

Anastasia turned, her expression shifting seamlessly from serene to irritated. James Potter leaned against the archway, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his tie askew as though he hadn't bothered to fix it properly after dinner. His hazel eyes were narrowed, his messy hair catching the faint moonlight in a way that made him look almost boyish. Almost.

"What do you want, Potter?" she asked, her voice clipped as she straightened.

He stepped closer, shrugging with a casualness that felt entirely deliberate. "Just curious what you're doing all the way up here. Alone."

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied coolly. "Except I don't care."

James crossed his arms, his hazel eyes narrowing. "You're a hard person to track down, you know. Always slipping away after dinner like that."

Her brow arched, and she tilted her head slightly, amusement flickering in her dark eyes. "Tracking me now, are we? I'd tell you to get a hobby, but apparently, this is your hobby."

"I was just taking a stroll," he replied, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Funny, though, how you always seem to be skulking off to these little hideaways. What's the plan tonight? Meeting someone? Or just scheming alone?"

Anastasia raised an eyebrow, her expression flat. "I beg your pardon?"

"All the sneaking off, the quiet little conversations with Malfoy, Black—" He paused, his lips curving into a humourless smile. "You're up to something. I know it."

She let out a soft, exasperated laugh, shaking her head as she turned back toward the stars."That's adorable, Potter. Did you come up with that all on your own, or did you need help stringing those thoughts together?" She muttered. "If you're going to keep this up, you could try to be a bit more discrete. All the stalking and staring. It's not exactly subtle."

James stiffened, his smirk faltering. "I wasn't—"

"You were," she interrupted, glancing at him over her shoulder. "For weeks now. Following me around like a lost puppy. Do yourself a favour and stop wasting your time. It's getting embarrassing."

He crossed his arms, his smirk returning though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You're awfully defensive for someone with nothing to hide."

She huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "Defensive? Hardly. I just find it exhausting watching you try to piece together some grand conspiracy like it's a personal mission."

"Drop the act, Gaunt," he snapped, stepping closer. "You've made it painfully clear what you're about. Riddle's perfect little fiancée, scheming her way to the top."

Anastasia turned fully to face him now, her arms crossed, her expression unfazed. "Tell me, Potter, what does my engagement have anything to do with you?"

James's jaw tightened. "I don't exactly consider chasing power and aligning yourself with someone like Tom Riddle as a noble pursuit."

"Let me guess," she said, tilting her head, "you've got some self-righteous speech prepared about morals and decency, about how I'm the bad guy, and you're here to save the day?"

"Oh, don't worry," James replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for Sirius."

Her gaze darkened at the mention of Sirius, though she masked it quickly. "Sirius doesn't need you meddling in things you don't understand."