Chapter Thirty-Eight | Hogwarts, May 1967

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Chapter Thirty-Eight

Hogwarts, May 1967

Not much had changed about Hogwarts in Silas' short time away, save the fresh faces of first years, or the inch Violet had grown. He spotted her from afar, laughing with a group of girls from various houses. It was just after supper, she was going back to her dorm, lingering at the grand staircase. She looked happy, and mature, and beautiful.

Moving away, Silas climbed some less frequented stairs and stuck to the back passages. He didn't want to run into anyone he knew, not tonight. There was business to be taken care of.

Standing in front of the same gargoyle he had many times before, Silas took a deep breath. "Sugarplums," he said, causing the gargoyle to jump aside so he could climb the spiral stairs. The door was ajar, and he stepped in, aiming for confidence but really appearing apprehensive.

"Silas." Dumbledore rose from his chair, smiling. "I'm glad you owled, I have been wanting to see how you are. How has the law department been treating you?"

"Very well sir, thank you." Silas did not sit, though Dumbledore offered.

"I heard you are aiming to aid the ministry with their affairs with the Muggle offices?" asked Dumbledore, watching Silas with care. "That is very interesting."

"Professor –"

"Please Silas, it is Albus now." He smiled kindly.

"Albus." Silas stood stiffly, fingers fiddling with the hem of his jacket. "I have always felt out of place, I have known for a long time that something was off – and now...now I believe you are the only person who can relieve me of this."

Dumbledore folded his hands, nodded. He had been waiting for this day.

Silas took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, thought of Gwyn's face. Of the things she would miss. "Am I Tom Riddle's son?"

A heavy sigh left Dumbledore, and he watched as Silas, now a grown man, stood in his office with the heaviest of weights on his shoulders. Dumbledore could relieve that weight, but would knowing the truth really make Silas' life better? He wished he knew. "It...is not my place to say, Silas."

"Bullshit!" Silas cried, anger flickering. "How can you say that, when all these years we have danced around it – you know! You know he is!" Tears welled in Silas' eyes as he shouted, and it felt as if his heart were going to explode. "If you don't tell me, I will never know. My father will never admit it; because he loves me, and he is worried I will not love him anymore if I know. But I have always known."

Slowly, Dumbledore rose from his chair and approached Silas, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension and fear in his posture. "Tom Riddle is your biological father," he said quietly.

Something in Silas collapsed, and he nodded. "Thank you." He whispered, and moved out from Dumbledore's touch. He didn't say another word, simply retreated from the office that had once been so wondrous, the castle that had been his home. He returned to the cottage that was his new home, with Inesa curled up on the couch, a book in her hands.

Silas collapsed by her feet, taking her hands in his, pressing them to his lips.

"What happened?" Inesa asked, watching the man she loved so become still in the firelight.

"I was right." He murmured. "All those years, trying not to think it." He closed his eyes, held her hands, attempted to ground himself. "I was right."

"Oh, Sy." Inesa slipped to the floor beside him. "Are you alright?"

He nodded; looked up, saw the kindness and curiosity and wildness that he had first been drawn to all those years ago, in a tiny boat crossing the lake – the start of a journey. "Marry me."

"What?" Inesa's pale eyes widened, and she stared at Silas as he pulled a ring – small, pretty, familiar – from his pocket.

"Marry me." He repeated, holding it up to the light. "I promise, its not because of what I learned tonight – or, confirmed, whatever – I swear I have been carrying this around for weeks, and I just – marry me, Inesa Fawley, please?"

"I'm wearing pyjamas." Inesa laughed, but tears were pouring down her cheeks, and her kiss said everything else. "Yes." She mumbled against his mouth, and pressed her body, heart, and soul to Silas.

"Thank the fucking lord." Laughed Silas, and slipped the ring onto her finger. A memory flickered, of Gwyn saying the same phrase, when she found a pair of hair ribbons from her childhood. Pale blue, she had gripped them tightly. The memory slipped away quickly, and Silas held Inesa close. "The ring was my Mamma's." he told her, "She left it for me, to give to someone."

Inesa viewed the ring, overjoyed. It was tiny and delicate, with an opal centre. "It's beautiful."

"She would have liked you," Silas pressed a kiss to her temple. "And you would have loved her. I wish...I wish you could have met."

"I do, too." Inesa snuggled close. "If she was anything like you, then I believe we would have gotten along fabulously."

"We were very similar," Silas thought over the times Gwyn had said so, treasured them. In the firelight, wrapped in the quiet night and in his home, with his wife-to-be in his arms, the mystery of Tom Riddle coming to a close, Silas felt content for the first time in years. Maybe, this was where the new journey began. 


A/N: I don't know why, but this chapter was especially heartbreaking to write. Something about it. 

Question: Is the start of a new journey? What will become of Silas and Inesa now? WEDDING YAY.

Rose

P.S I wrote march instead of may earlier, I fixed it. Just wanted to say in case the app doesn't update or something equally annoying.

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