The Years of Riddle

Chapter Thirty-Five | Outskirts of Wimbourne, England

Chapter Thirty-Five

Outskirts of Wimbourne, England

The Fawley home was, in Inesa's own words, 'unnecessarily and stupidly large'. Silas, Arthur and Molly stood at the foot of the steps, staring up at the gothic, towering manor before them.

"I mean...it's pretty?" said Molly, suddenly nervous. "I've never been here, Inesa always came to mine."

"I can't see why." Arthur was in shock. "If I had a house like this, I'd never leave."

Snorting, Silas began up the stairs. "You've got a great house, Arthur. You do too Molly, now come on." If Silas were to be honest, he was trying not to freak out. He knew Inesa was wealthy, or her family was at least – but this? She had seen his little cottage, the dusty attic and low ceilings, peeling paint. He felt small in this echoing, tremendous house.

Inesa appeared then, wearing a dress of the palest pink, ladies mantel woven through her hair. "Thank goodness you're all here, I've been suffering for hours."

"Inesa!" just as Inesa had grabbed Silas' hand Dahlia Fawley rounded the corner, elegant and stately as the queen herself. "It's time for pictures, you'll have time for your friends after the ceremony."

"Mother," Inesa piped up nervously. "This is Silas Lacroix." She tugged Silas forward, holding his hand tightly.

Dahlia studied Silas, and then smiled, appearing welcoming and kind. "Silas, it's lovely to meet you." She shook his hand, and then turned away. "We can chat later, but now we must rush off – enjoy the wedding, kids!" She pulled Inesa away, who mouthed 'help!' as she was practically dragged off.

"I guess we better go sit down?" Molly asked, and the boys nodded. Everyone was wearing beautiful robes and dresses, spilling out into the garden like a party of colourful birds; hundreds of chairs were lined up facing a beautiful archway sagging with flowers, and tiny birds zipped between the blossoms.

The three were sat near the back, not that they minded; they didn't know Alric Fawley, as he was the eldest and had already graduated Hogwarts when they arrived.

The ceremony was long, though beautiful. Inesa winked at Silas as she walked down the aisle, followed by the stunning Eris Bloodworth, wearing a dress that trailed behind her, the ends blooming into real flowers. "I love magic." Silas breathed, and Molly giggled.

This was the sort of thing he wished he could tell Gwyn about. She would have gasped and awed over every detail, from the tiny birds nests in women's hair to the chocolate fountain with marzipan fish swimming and jumping. In moments were magic just blew Silas away, he missed his mother – through her eyes everything was magic, even the most mundane events. When Anthony heated up her tea with a tap of his wand, she would shake her head, turn to Silas and Violet and say – "never take that for granted kiddos, it's the most wonderful gift."

Silas closed his eyes for a moment, letting the tinkling music and the sound of Alric and Eris exchanging vows fade away, and hoped somewhere his mother could see the magic she was missing.

The party was in full swing as dusk fell, and Silas was sat at a table alone. Molly and Arthur were off dancing, and Inesa had been whisked off by one of her brothers – Rune, the fourth Fawley child. "There are too many," Inesa always said, "My mother always wanted eight, but my father stopped her at six."

Silas was startled as someone sat heavily down beside him, sighing loudly. It was Horace Slughorn, his potions professor. Wearing a suit of an unattractive plum, he looked like a bruised piece of fruit as he finished his glass of wine.