The Years of Riddle

Chapter Fifty-Three | Hogwarts, June 1995

Chapter Fifty-Three

Hogwarts, June 1995

          The corridors were quiet, students tucked away, trunks packed for the early home send. Silas would be one of the parents anxiously waiting for his children on the platform, earlier than usual. Everyone was upset over Cedric Diggory's death. He worried for Harry, especially after what he'd read in the papers earlier.

He opened the door to the Headmaster's office with confidence; trying to put away his anger, compartmentalize his fear. He had been coming to this office since he was young, and he had known since then that Dumbledore may be a good man, and justice may be his goal, but his methods of reaching it were not always sound.

Dumbledore did not look surprised to see him, calmly putting down his book. "Tea?" he asked, raising his brows.

"No, thank you." Said Silas; he was tense, concerned, and scared – he wanted to march into the Hufflepuff dorms, grab Ivy and Magnus, send someone for Orson in Ravenclaw and take them home and never let them out of his sight.

"I wasn't expecting you so swiftly, Silas." He sipped his tea. "The story only went out yesterday."

"Albus, please." He clenched his fists. "Don't sugar coat it, don't pretend you don't know how worried I am. Don't fucking ignore the colossal problem we may have on our hands."

"I am not ignoring anything." Said Dumbledore calmly. "Please Silas, sit down."

"I will not sit down until you tell me if it's true," he spoke lowly. "Is Voldemort back?"

Dumbledore sighed and clasped his hands, leaning forward in his chair. "I don't know, I never set eyes on him." He said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "But I trust Harry, and we did uncover Crouch Junior disguised as Mad Eye."

"Another follower has gotten into your school, Albus." Silas spoke dangerously slowly, and he shook with anger. "How can I let my youngest children return next year knowing this has happened – what, three times now?"

"Silas, I can assure you we are improving our security –"

He interrupted, stepping forward, hands still in fists. "Do you think he will come for my family?"

Dumbledore took a moment to consider his words carefully. "Tom Riddle," he said finally, clasping and unclasping his hands, "never cared much for anyone, and if what you told me before is true, that he only saw you twice – then I don't believe so, I think you are safe – safe as anyone is, which is not very."

"You want to bring the Order back, in full." It came out more venomous than Silas meant it to, but all he could think of was the Prewett brothers, Molly's face when he told her they were gone, the countless other brave witches and wizards, friends he had made and lost. James and Lily, Harry's cries for his mother. "Albus, you do, don't you?"

He nodded. "I do, and I want you to lead it."

Silas turned away then, hands gripping his hair. He thought of Estelle, her new husband, and his other children – Inesa. Slowly, he turned back around and fixed Dumbledore with a stony stare. "I will not lead it, that is your job. I will come to meetings, I will be your right hand – but I will not be the face of this. I will help in any way I can, but I want the option of dropping out at a moment's notice, do you understand?"

"I understand." Dumbledore poured a cup of tea. "Now, have a cup, we have much to discuss."

Blood still boiling, Silas sat down and took the cup. This time around, he would get it right. He had to.

A/N: Ohhhh boy, this is getting serious.

Question: This is Silas' second war, how do you think it will pan out for him?

Rose