A Broken Inheritance

Chapter 19: A Boggart and a Banquet

This announcement earned murmurs from the table, a few nods of approval, and one loud snort—from Anastasia Gaunt.

James turned his head sharply toward her, finding her smirking faintly, her dark eyes glinting with something between amusement and derision.

"Figures," she murmured, just loud enough for the table to hear, earning a few chuckles from her fellow Slytherins. "Saviour complex and all."

James narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Anastasia's lips curved slightly, the ghost of a smile playing on her face. "Nothing, Potter. It suits you."

"Careful, Gaunt," Sirius drawled, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. "He might try to save you next."

The table chuckled again, and James scowled.

His jaw tightened, but he forced a grin. "And what about you, Gaunt?" he shot back. "What noble path are you gracing us with?"

Her smirk didn't waver as she straightened in her seat, her voice calm and unhurried. "Well, if you're asking, I've always had an interest in becoming an Unspeakable."

The room fell quiet for a moment. Narcissa arched an elegant brow, while Slughorn beamed with delight.

"An Unspeakable!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Now, that is ambition! A field shrouded in mystery, filled with challenges and complexities. It's no small feat to make it into the Department of Mysteries, my dear, but if anyone could manage it..." He trailed off, his gaze lingering on Anastasia with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

Anastasia inclined her head slightly, her expression unreadable. "I'm aware of the challenges, Professor. That's what makes it appealing."

Slughorn, however, wasn't finished. "You know, I hear young Tom Riddle was just promoted in that very department. I daresay you're following in some illustrious footsteps."

The comment sent a faint ripple of discomfort through the table. Sirius made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort, but when Slughorn turned toward him, he feigned innocence, taking a long drink from his goblet. Anastasia's expression didn't falter. She lifted her goblet to her lips, her movements slow and deliberate.

"Yes, well, Tom's accomplishments are entirely his own," Anastasia said smoothly, her voice cool but polite. "And so will mine be."

James caught the faintest flicker of something behind her words—irritation, perhaps, or unease. He frowned, but before he could dwell on it, Slughorn chimed in.

Slughorn nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, of course! Independent and ambitious, just as you should be."

Sirius leaned toward James, whispering just loud enough for him to hear, "She's terrifying when she's like this."

"She's terrifying all the time," James muttered back, though his gaze lingered on Anastasia for a moment longer.

"What's an Unspeakable actually do?" asked Mary Macdonald, a Gryffindor sitting a few seats down. Her curly hair bounced as she tilted her head, her curiosity genuine.

"That's the point," Sirius interjected, smirking. "You're not supposed to know, Macdonald. They're unspeakable. It's in the name."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Black. Very helpful."

"An excellent question," Slughorn said, ignoring Sirius entirely. "The Department of Mysteries is, as its name suggests, shrouded in secrecy. But it's said to study the great enigmas of our world—time, space, the mind, and more. It takes a certain kind of mind to thrive there. A rare combination of brilliance and discretion."

"Well, you've got the discretion part covered," Sirius said to Anastasia with an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression.

Anastasia gave him a withering look, her composure icy. "I'll manage, Black. But thank you for your concern."

The conversation shifted to other students, each sharing their ambitions with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Sirius, when pressed, declared dramatically that he'd become a dragon tamer just to spite his family's expectations.

"Imagine me, wrangling Hungarian Horntails," he said with a wide grin, clearly reveling in the absurdity of the idea. "Might even name one after you, Malfoy."

"Charming," Lucius replied coolly, his expression sour.

When it came to Narcissa, she spoke of diplomacy, aligning herself with the Black family's expectations while still maintaining her own poised independence.

As the dinner wound down, Slughorn stood, raising his goblet for a toast. "To the future of the wizarding world!" he declared. "To talent, ambition, and connections—and to each of you, my brightest stars."

The group echoed his words, though James's voice was half-hearted. Across the table, Anastasia raised her goblet, her expression serene. But as their eyes met for the briefest moment, something flickered in her gaze—something that made James wonder just how much of her composure was a lie.