A Broken Inheritance

Chapter 22: Misunderstandings

Chapter 22: Misunderstandings

In the quiet of the morning, with the castle of Hogwarts still mostly asleep and the first light of dawn casting a soft glow through the dormitory windows, James found himself unable to shake off the restlessness that had plagued him since the previous evening. The encounter on the balcony, the sight of Anastasia and Tom Riddle together, had left him with a gnawing sense of unease that sleep had failed to dispel.

Driven by a need for answers—or perhaps, in some part, by the hope of disproving his own suspicions—James reached for the Marauder's Map,. As he whispered the incantation to reveal the map's secrets, his eyes immediately sought out the names he had been thinking about since the night before.

James Potter sat on the edge of his four-poster bed, the faint morning light filtering through the curtains as he stared at the Marauder's Map spread across his lap. His wand tapped the parchment absentmindedly, revealing the intricate web of moving names and footsteps across Hogwarts' castle.

His gaze locked onto the Slytherin section, specifically a room with two names far too close for his liking.

Anastasia Gaunt.
Tom Riddle.

The knot in his stomach tightened as he watched the dots hover in the same spot. Still there, he thought bitterly, as if the confirmation wasn't already clear. The implications were obvious, the scene writing itself in his mind despite his attempts to shove the images away.

With a sharp exhale, he folded the map and shoved it into his pocket. He wasn't sure what he hated more—the fact that she was engaged to Riddle or the fact that she had willingly agreed to it. James wasn't naïve; he knew better than to meddle in whatever intricate web she and Riddle existed within.

But it didn't stop the sour taste in his mouth.

***

James slumped into his usual seat at the Gryffindor table, his head bent low as he reached for a piece of toast. The Marauders were already in full swing, Sirius recounting some scandalous misadventure involving Peeves and a stolen broomstick, his hands gesturing animatedly as Remus rolled his eyes.

"Prongs," Sirius said, elbowing James when he didn't react. "You look like you've been hit by a Bludger. Long night?"

James grunted noncommittally, keeping his gaze fixed on his plate.

"What, no witty comment?" Sirius pressed, feigning shock. "Merlin's beard, what happened to you? Did the great James Potter actually fail at something for once?"

"Leave him alone, Padfoot," Remus said, though he was watching James with curiosity. "He's probably still stewing about exams or Quidditch or something equally tragic."

"Or," Sirius said with a mischievous grin, "he's still thinking about her."

At that, James's head snapped up, his hazel eyes blazing. "Don't start," he said sharply, his voice cutting through Sirius's laughter.

"Right," Sirius said, leaning back with a smirk. "Because you're always this cheerful in the morning."

James pushed back his chair abruptly, the sound scraping loudly against the floor. Without another word, he stalked out of the Great Hall, leaving Sirius and Remus exchanging surprised glances.

His footsteps echoed against the stone walls as he strode down the corridor, his frustration bubbling over. He hated that they were right, that no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, his thoughts always drifted back to her. But today, the image of her wasn't just in his head—it was tainted by the sight of her name alongside his.