A Broken Inheritance

Chapter 19: A Boggart and a Banquet

James, who had been listening intently from his seat further down the table, felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He glanced at Anastasia, but her expression remained perfectly composed, betraying nothing.

As the conversation shifted, Slughorn began discussing his plans for the next Slug Club party. "I'm thinking something grand to celebrate the end of this term, and of course your O.W.L.S and N.E.W.T results," he said, gesturing with his goblet. "A proper gathering for Hogwarts' finest. What do you all think? Formal attire, live music—perhaps even a dance or two!"

Lucius nodded smoothly, his voice calm and assured. "Of course, Professor Slughorn. It's always a privilege to attend your events."

Narcissa smiled faintly, her expression practiced and serene. "I wouldn't dream of missing it."

"Will you be attending, Miss Gaunt?" one of the Ravenclaw boys asked, his tone carrying a faint edge of curiosity—or challenge.

Anastasia's lips curved into a faint smile. "Of course," she said smoothly. "It would be impolite to decline."

James watched the exchange closely, noting the way she deflected the attention with ease. He took a sip of his pumpkin juice, leaning back in his chair as he listened, but his mind was elsewhere, the lingering tension from Defence Against the Dark Arts still gnawing at him.

When Slughorn's attention finally turned toward Sirius and James, Sirius grinned. "You've got yourself a deal, sir. But only if you promise the drinks won't be pumpkin juice all night."

Slughorn laughed heartily, waving a hand. "For you, Mr. Black, we might just make an exception."

"Well, my dears," Slughorn continued, dabbing his mustache with a napkin before setting it down with an air of theatricality. "With your examinations approaching—and I know, I know, the pressure is immense—have any of you given thought to what you might pursue after Hogwarts?"

This question was met with a range of reactions. A few, rare groans from students who clearly hadn't thought that far ahead, some smug smiles from those already certain of their futures, and an exaggerated gasp from Sirius Black.

"Professor, you wound me," Sirius said dramatically, leaning back in his chair and clutching his chest as though struck. "Must you remind us of the looming doom of adulthood at such a pleasant dinner?"

The room chuckled, though Slughorn merely waved a hand, grinning. "It's precisely at such pleasant dinners, my dear boy, that one must discuss such things. After all, connections are everything! And I can think of no better time to start planning than now."

"Connections," James muttered to Sirius with a smirk. "He means he's sizing us up for his address book."

Sirius snorted into his goblet, earning a sharp glare from Narcissa, who sat regally at the other end of the table.

"Connections are essential, Potter," Lucius Malfoy said smoothly, his tone cutting. "Some of us already understand the importance of aligning ourselves with the right people. I suppose that's why we're here."

James raised an eyebrow, his smirk unfaltering. "Right. Of course, Malfoy. Because nothing screams hard work and merit like buying your way to the top."

"Boys, boys," Slughorn interjected, his tone placating. "Let's not get too spirited." He turned his attention to James with a curious tilt of his head. "What about you, Mr. Potter? I've heard you've been doing rather well in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

James straightened slightly, a confident grin spreading across his face. "Auror," he said without hesitation. "I want to become an Auror."

"Ah, an Auror!" Slughorn exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "One of the noblest professions. Very demanding, of course—top marks required in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. But I'd say you've got the makings of a fine Auror, Potter."