Chapter Twenty-Three
Kings Cross Station, September 1st 1959
The old apartment felt empty without their belongings. Gwyn felt uncomfortable in it, but it made sense to spend the last week before school there, getting Silas' things, making the commute to the station shorter. Still, Gwyn couldn't shake a feeling of being watched.
On September first, it felt like many others; Gwyn walked through the familiar entrance to Kings Cross, her heart seizing. She had avoided coming back at all costs, knowing what was so close yet so far was painful, tantalizing. Today she would finally see what she had dreamed of since she was eleven years old.
"How many years 'till I go to school, Papa?" asked Violet, swinging Silas' hand.
"Five, sweet." Anthony chuckled and led them to the barrier. This is where Gwyn had waited twice a year, for seven years – until Tom had just stopped coming back.
Violet frowned. "That's quite a long time."
"I'll be in sixth year when you start, Vi!" crowed Silas, giving her hand a squeeze. "Imagine how tall I'll be."
"I'm sure you'll be very handsome and worldly," Anthony couldn't seem to stop grinning.
"And tall?"
"And tall."
Anthony went through the barrier with Silas and the trolley, Gwyn following with Violet. And then – like magic – she was there.
A scarlet steam engine, just as Anthony had described, was waiting, crowds of people with trunks and owls milling about, the first couple carriages already packed with students. Smoke drifted over the heads of witches and wizards, cats of every colour and pattern wove between people's ankles. Birds swooped above, dipping beneath the high arched ceilings, specks in the dusty light streaming through the windows. The air was heavy with magic.
Gwyn let out a long breath. She had waited twenty-one years for this.
Anthony loaded Silas' trunk onto the train, and the little family stood together on the platform. Violet was sniffling and still holding onto Silas' hand, begging him to stay. "I can't Violet," he apologized, giving her a tight hug. "You'll look after my gardens, right?"
Violet nodded and stepped back, letting him say goodbye to their parents.
Anthony discretely handed Silas a coupe galleons, winking. "For the train. Don't stuff yourself though, there's a feast later."
"Thanks Pa." Silas grinned and gave him a hug.
"Have a good term," he kissed the top of his head. "Don't get in too much trouble."
"Trouble? Me?" Silas grinned. "Nah, I'll be good." He turned to Gwyn, and she could see the mixture of excitement and fear in his eyes. "I'll miss you, Ma."
Gwyn could only nod and hold him to her, bury her face in his coppery curls. "Enjoy Silas, this is only the start of so many wonderful things."
"I wish you could have gotten to go, Mamma."
She gave him a teary smile. "That's sweet Sy, but it's okay. I have my magical family."
Silas hugged her again, blinking rapidly. "Love you." He whispered.
"Love you, too." She kissed his temple, and then stepped away. "Have fun, study hard – see you at Christmas."
They watched Silas get on the train, waving enthusiastically, Babs' carrier case in his hands. Anthony put his arm around Gwyn, and they all watched as the train pulled out of the station, until it was only a speck. They stood for a long time, while parents and little siblings drifted off, chatting about supper and plans and grandparents.
Gwyn watched the spot where the train had finally disappeared in a haze, hand to her heart. She couldn't believe that her son was on his way to Hogwarts, that she wouldn't see him for nearly four months.
"Do you wish you'd told him?" Anthony placed a gentle hand on her elbow.
"No." she felt very drained, and was thankful for his steady grip. "I want him to enjoy his first term, not to worry about me."
"But, Gwyn –"
"Anthony, please." Gwyn gave him an exhausted smile. "It's my body that's sick, not my mind. I made this decision; it was the right thing to do. He deserves to be happy, he's just a child."
"And me?" Anthony looked painfully sad. "I'm not a child, why did you wait so long to tell me?"
"Because I love you, and I didn't want you to think about it." She turned into his embrace. Violet was sitting on a bench, swinging her legs and chatting to herself.
"If you're really as sick as you say, then maybe we should go visit him –"
"I want him to have a normal time," said Gwyn firmly. "I don't want him to be known as the kid with a dying mother."
Anthony held her tighter, "You're not going to die, Gwyn."
Unable to say anything else, Gwyn just hugged her husband, watched her daughter, thought of her son. "Can we go home – home, home, to Lewes."
"Of course." Anthony pulled away, and then frowned. "Huh, odd."
"What is it?" Turning to see what he had, Gwyn only saw the back of a tall, blonde man in a beige trench coat.
"Oh, that's just Douglas Avery." Anthony shrugged. "He doesn't have kids, I'm just curious what he's doing here, that's all. I shouldn't be so nosy." He laughed and called for Violet.
Gwyn's whole body had gone cold. "Avery...Tom had a friend with that name."
"I'm not surprised, Avery was never exactly made of sunshine." Anthony was frowning, studying her. "What's wrong?"
"It's just...I've seen him before. Outside the flat, every time we're in the city – I think he's been following us." Gwyn gave Anthony a stricken look. "I've felt watched a week, but I just shook it off. I – I'm scared, Anthony."
Anthony grabbed Violet and ushered them out of the station, glancing back – there was no sign of Avery. At the London flat, he called friends, contacted Albus Dumbledore. He wasn't taking any chances.
The journey home was tense, with Gwyn and Anthony hardly speaking. Violet fell asleep on the train, and chatted to her grandfather when he picked them up. No one felt at ease, not even when they were all at home.
"You shouldn't sleep in here." Anthony whispered upon finding Gwyn in the reading chair in Violet's room. Their daughter was fast asleep, clutching a stuffed lamb and breathing deeply.
"I can't sleep anyway."
Anthony sat on the arm of the chair, stroked the back of her hair. "She'll be fine, just come to bed."
"What about later, when I'm not here?" Gwyn asked fearfully, grasping his hand.
"You'll be here for a while yet, don't worry." Anthony helped her to her feet, led her to the bedroom. "Just get some sleep, okay?"
Nodding, Gwyn let Anthony bundle her up, hold her so she felt secure. Somehow, out of all the darkness and fear, she had created a haven, somewhere Tom Riddle couldn't touch her – or so she had thought.
A/N: Silas is off to Hogwarts, they've got a stalker ??? and Gwyn is really not well...not going too nicely.
Question: what house do you think Silas will be in?
Rose
YOU ARE READING
The Years of Riddle
Fanfiction"From a very young age he realized it was good to have someone to vouch for you, to believe you were good - especially if you enjoyed doing bad things." Tom Riddle couldn't love. There was no changing that, but was it possible for someone to love...
