A Broken Inheritance

Chapter 60: A Bit of Warmth in the Cold

Sirius leaned forward, elbows on his knees, watching James carefully. "She didn't throw it back in your face, did she?"

"No," James said quietly. "She didn't have to."

They were quiet again.

And this time, Sirius let it stay that way.

***

The air over breakfast was brittle.

It wasn't silent, not exactly—but the usual noise was gone. No jokes, no grand retellings of dreams or plans to skip Divination again. Just the low clink of spoons against porridge bowls, the occasional half-hearted grunt in response to something Remus mumbled from behind his notes.

James hadn't touched his food. Sirius picked at his eggs like they'd personally offended him. Remus was the only one pretending things were normal, but he didn't push.

When the bell rang, Remus stood, tucking his notes under one arm. "I'm going to the library," he said. "Test in Slughorn's class. Can't wing it again."

James nodded absently. Sirius just grunted.

Once he was gone, Sirius stood up too, shrugging on his coat. "Walk?"

James hesitated, then got up without a word.

They left the castle through one of the lesser-used side doors, boots crunching softly over the frost-hardened grass. The lake shimmered dull and silver in the distance, and the sun hadn't quite made up its mind about showing up.

They walked in silence for a while. Not uncomfortable, but not exactly easy either.

James had his hands stuffed into his pockets, his head down. Sirius walked a step behind, kicking at stones and watching the path like it might rearrange itself beneath his feet.

It was Sirius who broke the quiet first.

"I was a bit of a knob earlier."

James didn't respond. Just kept walking.

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I mean, I was right—but also. A knob."

Still nothing.

"I was out of line."

James glanced sideways but didn't say anything.

Sirius sighed. "Alright, you're going to make me actually grovel, aren't you?"

James cracked a smile—just barely. "Wouldn't hurt."

"I mean it," Sirius went on. "Back there. I wasn't trying to... I didn't mean to come at you like that. It's just—fuck, I don't know."

James kept walking, hands buried in his pockets. "It's fine."

Sirius frowned. "No, it's not."

James shrugged, the movement tight across his shoulders. "You didn't say anything I hadn't already thought myself."

"I just... I didn't expect it," he went on, more quietly now. "You. Telling her. I think I always figured you'd get over it."

James stopped walking. "I tried."

Sirius looked at him.

"I really fucking tried."

Sirius didn't speak right away. The wind picked up slightly, tugging at the edges of James's robes, pulling strands of hair across his forehead.

"I know," Sirius said eventually. "I know you did."

James turned to look out at the lake. His breath came out in white clouds.