The Years of Riddle

Chapter Fifty-One | Kings Cross, September 1, 1991

Chapter Fifty-One

Kings Cross, September 1st, 1991

          Little had changed about platform 9 ¾ since Silas had first visited as a child, so long ago in 1959. If he closed his eyes, he could picture Gwyn's face, full of wonder, Anthony proudly holding her hand, Violet begging him not to go. His very first conversation with Arthur, meeting Molly by the boats. It all seemed so long ago.

Opening his eyes, he could see Inesa attempting to smooth Orson and Ivy's rambunctious pale curls, fixing their sweaters and making sure they had all their belongings. Magnus was beside him, and tugged on his sleeve. "Watcha thinking about Pa?"

"Oh," he looked down at his son. Dark eyes and hair, sharp cheekbones still hidden by baby cheeks. "Not much. This time next year it'll be your turn, Magnus."

"Maybe I'll be the first Slytherin." He mused. "Only house left in the family. Would you be okay with that Papa?"

"Of course," soothed Silas. "I would be proud no matter where the sorting hat put you."

"Pretty sure I'll be in Hufflepuff though," grinned Magnus. "With Ivy."

"I'm sure she and the rest of the Hufflepuff's be happy to have you." It was then that he looked up, hearing Molly Weasley's voice. She was coming through the platform, and just ahead of him – a young boy, with James Potter's face, and Lily's eyes looking around with the same wonder he had seen on his own mother's face thirty-two years ago. "Harry." He breathed, unable to move all of a sudden.

Inesa came up to him then, her smile dropping when she saw his face. "Sy? Is something the matter?"

"Nes, it's him." He nodded in Harry's direction.

Looking over her shoulder, Inesa gasped. "Oh my, it is. I nearly forgot he would be eleven by now...my, does he look like James."

"He really does." Said Silas softly. He watched the Weasley twins help Harry with his trunk, have a brief conversation, and then get called away by their mother. Harry seemed dazed as he climbed onto the train, and Silas was almost too distracted to see his own children off.

"He didn't look too bad," said Inesa worriedly. "I mean, a little small – but James was small wasn't he? You said he was small –"

"Small, yeah." Silas felt a little dazed himself. He waved to Ivy and Orson as they leaned out the train as it pulled away, but his focus was on the peaky face of Harry Potter. He watched the spot the train had left for a good while. The crown began to thin, and Inesa and Magnus went to talk with what was left of the Weasley's.

Standing on the platform, Silas thought back to nearly ten years ago, the fateful night Lily and James had been murdered. He regretted not asking to be their secret keeper, not fighting to take Harry, not tracking Sirius down more quickly.

Most of all, he hated that his biological father was the reason Harry Potter was an orphan. It hadn't occurred to him that night, as Tom Riddle was a stranger to him, and he didn't often link them, despite their biological relation. Inesa never mentioned it, Dumbledore was quick to move on, and Anthony was hesitant. The truth was, no matter how often they ignored it, that Silas was the son of the Wizarding world's greatest horror. And he had killed Harry Potter's parents.

"Papa?" Magnus was tugging his sleeve again. "Mam says its time to go home."

"Right." Silas spent another moment looking at where the train had disappeared. "Coming honey, thank you."

Inesa took his hand as they left the station. "You are not him." She whispered, "I know you're thinking about it, and Lily and James – nothing about that is your fault."

"I know." He said, squeezing her hand. Silas said the words, but it was one of those days where he cursed his blood, his very DNA. There was little his wife could say to make him feel better, though he wished there was. They all piled into the Weasley's flying car, chatting about Quidditch and what to make for supper. For the rest of the day though, late into the evening, Silas was distracted. Lying in bed next to Inesa, all he could picture was Harry Potter's face, full of wonder. He wished Lily and James could have seen it too. 

A/N: Four chapters in one night? I don't have a reason, simply that I'm having a good time and really really needed to just write something other than a ten page essay on Freud and Nietzsche. 

Question: Will Silas and Harry meet again...?

Rose