The Years of Riddle

Chapter Fifty-Six | England, Christmas 1995

                 

Chapter Fifty-Six

England, Christmas 1995

In quiet darkness, Silas sat holding the most precious thing he could imagine – his first grandchild. William Silas Periculum, two weeks old and so tiny, perfect; his little wrinkled fingers gripped Silas' own, and he felt tears come to his eyes once more.

Beside him, Estelle was in a deep sleep. Her brothers and sisters were all in bed, and Merlin had rushed back to their home in London to retrieve more baby things. Silas was pleased he got to hold baby Will some more, with Inesa passed out in their bed upstairs, exhausted from making an fabulous dinner, and the kids (not quite kids any longer, but Silas could never stop calling them so, they would always be kids to him) asleep...he could just sit beside his sleeping eldest child, and hold his first grandchild. He studied little Will's face, the shock of dark hair just like Estelle's, Merlin's blue eyes – he had Estelle's nose, and her long fingers and toes.

The font door opened then, a cold wind entering with Merlin Periculum. He was a dotty, caring man with a habit of leaving things about in odd places, and often forgot to get a haircut for months at a time. Estelle loved him for all these oddities, and Silas rather liked the chap.

"Ah, Silas." Merlin grinned and removed is cloak, putting his bag down. "How are they?"

"Essie conked out just after you left, and Will has been a dream." He watched Merlin push up his glasses and warm his hands before reaching for his son. Silas handed him over, hiding his reluctance.

"You and Inesa have been wonderful to us," said Merlin gratefully, "We can never thank you enough."

Silas smiled as Will yawned and stretched out one tiny hand. "It's not trouble, we enjoy ourselves."

Looking up at his father in law, Merlin smiled nervously. "I know Essie is afraid I may leave him somewhere and forget, or suddenly dash off to the Order – despite me telling her over and over than I haven't joined, just helped Dumbledore with some Ministry things."

"She's scared," Silas spoke softly and stroked Estelle's soft curls; she let out a sigh and snuggled further into the couch. "It's a scary time, with motherhood, and war."

"I didn't grow up like she did," he shook his head, long black locks falling in his face. "My father wasn't in any risk, he simply made crosswords for the paper and wrote children's books, as you know. I was never afraid much, the war seemed far away."

"It can be hard to understand, and I know she doesn't want that for Will...it may just be taking over all her other fears at the moment."

"How can I reassure her?" asked Merlin desperately, holding Will close. "She's beside herself half the time, keeps on having nightmares – has been for months now, with You Know Who's supposed return."

Silas watched Estelle's breath rise and fall. "Just be there, as much as you can – and remember she loves you, both of you, very much."

"I'll try." Merlin sighed and pressed a kiss to his son's forehead. "How did you do it, before, in the first war?"

"I don't even know anymore," he spoke softly, "I took it day by day, and thanked my lucky stars that I got to come home every evening to a haven. Day by day, that's all you can do."

In the foyer of Grimmauld place, Silas hugged Molly tightly. She was small and curvy, warm and drowning in various knitted items. "Oh Mol," he said into her hair, "I'm sorry I couldn't be there today, I wanted to."