Sacred Silence | A Tom Riddle Story

12: A warm welcome home.

Siobhan dropped her trunk on the ground next to her. She had just appeared on the grass in the spacious and well maintained yard. She dusted the sand off her cloak, and carried her things up the stone steps to the main entrance.

'Selwyn: Non Ducor, Duco,' stood in big golden latin words above the arched doorway. The Selwyns, they're not led. They lead.

Her hand seemed to move to the knocker on the door on it's own accord. The seconds after her knock seemed like days.

Her mother opened the door. Sera Delacour Selwyn was a thin, short woman with long, curly blonde hair. Her bright blue eyes were bespectacled, her body covered in a long dark blue robe. She looked rather fragile, and much older than she actually was.
Crossing her arms, she looked her daughter up and down. She reached over to pat some dirt off Siobhans shoulder. Then, she stepped back and allowed Shiv to enter.

Siobhan placed her trunk on the wooden floor with a small thud. The house felt cold en unfriendly, as she remembered. Her mother opened her arms and stepped towards her daughter. Shiv allowed her mom to hug her.

They were parted by two pairs of footsteps hurrying down the grand staircase in the entrance hall. Her oldest brothers, twins, walked towards her with kind smiles on their faces.

'Altair,' Shiv smiled happily, and she hugged the taller one of the two.
'Amos,' she moved towards her other brother and hugged him a little less affectionately. They both shared the same dark curls as their sister, however combined with gray eyes instead of Siobhans blue ones.

Altair was the only one who stepped up for her and Cillian when they were still younger. The twins were 14 years older than her, making them 30. Cillian was 'only' ten years older, making him 26 at the moment.
The two oldest ones both moved out when they were 20, though, so Shiv didn't get the privilege of their protection for long. Cillian moved out when he was 18, leaving Siobhan alone with her parents at 8 years old.

Over these last few years, she had struggled immensely with the conflicting feelings she had towards her brothers. They left the moment they could, and she know she was going to do the same. But she couldn't help but feel some sort of resentment towards them for leaving her all alone, with their beast of a father.

It was made even harder by their refusal to speak about the abuse they all suffered. To this day, they still seemed to be scared of the men at the head of the table.

Speaking of the devil, her father walked in with open arms. 'My Siobhan,' he called out. Shivs stomach seemed to want to empty itself. She made her way over towards her father and gave him a carefully managed hug. 'Dad,' she said with an unsteady voice.

Her father placed a firm hand between her shoulderblades as he guided her to the enormous living room. The rest of the family followed them.

Siobhan sat down on a big leather couch. One of the house elves, Mopy, scurried over to her with a plateau of wine glasses. Shiv glanced at the clock (it was 2 in the afternoon) and grabbed a glass. She took a few big sips and she allowed the alcohol to calm her nerves. Alcoholism ran rapid in pureblood families, it wasn't hard to guess why.

Wine glass in hand, she stared around the familiar living room. It's heigh walls and ceilings were painted black. The whole room was dark and moody, like it was actually designed with the intention of making it's residents depressed. Long, velvet green curtains covered the tall stained glass windows. The light that came through the colored glass was the only source of comfort. Siobhan remembered laying on the couch and waving her hands through the beams of colored dust as a young girl.

Her father sat across from her and crossed his legs. He narrowed his eyes a bit. 'Put your hair back,' he mumbled.

Siobhan swallowed and slowly placed her curls behind her shoulders. Her father let out a disappointed sigh. He waved over his wife and pointed at Shivs face. 'She got more holes in her ears. Told her not to do that.'

Siobhon was afraid her heart was going to pound out her chest. She in fact did nòt remember having a conversation about this with her father, but she could never say that. Dorian Selwyn was always the one who decided how he wanted a conversation to develop. Even if that meant inventing the story on the spot.

He stood up and walked over to Siobhan. He looked down at her, but she kept staring at her feet relentlessly. A harsh hand grabbed her chin and yanked her face upwards. Curls fell down her face again.

'Let them grow shut. I don't want you looking like a whore.'

Siobhan nodded and waited with taking another breath until her father disappeared around the corner, away towards his study.

-

She had unpacked all of her things and now sat on her big four poster bed with crossed legs. In her hands she held the guest list for tomorrow, the big Christmas Eve celebration at the Selwyn estate.
She recognized a few names. Avery, Lestrange, Malfoy, Nott. Behind the Malfoys name, a small '+ one' was added. She guessed that was Riddle.
All her family members, even those in other countries, were listed as well. The bottom of the paper was made up by a long list of ministry officials and important business partners of her brothers and father.

She was sad Florance and Milo couldn't be there. It was a selfish thought, though, because Christmas Eve with the Evans family sounded a lot better than tomorrow's events at her own house.

And she supposed she would like to see Milo, after what he had said in his letter. She wanted to tell him that she was feeling conflicted but that she would want to talk to him about it. It was she least the could do. She wanted to go on a long walk with him and throw out all her emotional baggage and worries. He could make up his own mind after that.

But then, was it just the opportunity arising? Or did she really see Milo as someone that she would want to be with? She knew that he would never treat her the way her father treated her mom. But still, Sera must have thought the same exact thing at Shivs age.
And just like that, her thoughts started spiraling towards the hopelessness of love once more.

She bit the inside of her lip and cursed at herself for being so melodramatic. Florance was right. It was only two weeks. Two weeks were doable, she had survived years in this hellhole after all.

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Next few chapters are going to be the whole Christmas Eve event (lots of Tom!). I think I will spread it across 3 chapters, not sure yet.

Love,