A Broken Inheritance

Chapter 12: A Change of Heart

Chapter 12: A Change of Heart

The Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning chatter, the clatter of plates and the rustle of parchment filling the air. James sat at the Gryffindor table, his breakfast untouched as his gaze drifted across the room. His hazel eyes locked onto Anastasia Gaunt, who was seated at the far end of the Slytherin table. She sat with her usual air of composed detachment, her head bowed slightly as she buttered a piece of toast with precise, almost mechanical movements. Her long black hair fell like a curtain, concealing most of her expression, but James caught enough of her profile to see that she looked... fine.

He told himself that was all he was doing—checking to make sure she was okay. Nothing more.

"Are you going to eat that, or are you just going to stare at the Slytherin table all morning?" Sirius's voice cut through James's thoughts like a dagger.

James blinked, snapping his gaze back to his plate as his cheeks flushed. "I wasn't staring," he muttered, shoving a forkful of eggs into his mouth to emphasise the point.

"Sure you weren't," Sirius drawled, his smirk almost audible. He leaned back in his seat, tossing a grape into his mouth with lazy precision. "What's this, the ninth time? Tenth?"

"It's not like that," James protested, though his voice lacked conviction. He refused to look up, focusing intently on his plate as if it held all the answers to his predicament.

Remus snorted from across the table, not bothering to look up from his book. "You'd think he'd at least try to be subtle."

James jerked, snapping his gaze back to his plate as his cheeks flushed. "I'm not staring," he muttered, his voice defensive. "I was just... distracted."

"By her," Sirius said with a grin, leaning back against the bench and crossing his arms. "It's the ninth—no, tenth time this morning, Prongs. If you're going to stare at Gaunt like she's a bloody Arithmancy puzzle, at least own up to it."

"I'm not staring," James repeated, his voice a touch more forceful. He stabbed at his eggs for emphasis. "I just... wanted to make sure she's okay."

Remus finally looked up, raising a skeptical brow. "Since when do you care if Anastasia Gaunt is okay?"

James hesitated, his fork freezing mid-air. He couldn't tell them the truth—he'd promised. And more than that, he didn't think Anastasia would appreciate him sharing what had happened.

"I don't," he said quickly, perhaps too quickly. "It's just... I dunno, I thought she looked a bit off at the party last night."

"She looked off?" Sirius scoffed, smirking. "She looked exactly the same as always, mate— like she's ready to hex anyone who so much as breathes near her."

James tried to hide his grin, shoving a piece of toast into his mouth to avoid responding.

"And yet," Remus said, his voice dry as he returned to his book, "you can't seem to look away. Fascinating."

Sirius leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as his smirk widened. "Careful, Prongs. If I didn't know better, I'd say you've got a bit of a thing for her."

James nearly choked on his toast, coughing violently as he reached for his pumpkin juice. "Are you mad?" he sputtered, his voice hoarse. "A thing? For Gaunt? No. Absolutely not."

"Sure," Sirius said with a mock-serious nod.

Remus, seated across from them, raised an eyebrow over his morning tea. "It's true, you know. You used to glare at her like you were planning to duel her after breakfast. Now you just..." He paused, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "...pine."