The Years of Riddle

Chapter Fifty-Seven | Ottery St. Catchpole, June 1996

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Ottery St. Catchpole, June 1996

         There was always a hush in Silas' conscious after a death. All the chatter, the white noises of his daily routine, faded – left were the echoes he had preserved of the person he had lost. For years after Gwyn's death, her laugh, or the tired sighed he knew so well, would trickle into any silence.

For the past week he had heard Sirius Black's barking laughter in between conversations, dripping down the windowpane; in the hollows of his dreams. As he sat watching the sunset from the back lawn, he thought he heard Sirius' low cursing.

Beside him sat Remus Lupin, slumped in his chair like an abandoned puppet. His eyes were dead as he watched the shy sunset emerge from the treetops and creep across the sky.

When Remus had arrived, the old friends had gripped each other. The younger man had shook in his old leader's arms, unable to speak.

"It still doesn't feel real." He said finally, mouth barely moving. "I keep...I want to owl him, or drop by Grimmauld place – and then I remember, and this whole fucking process of grief starts over again."

Silas stayed silent. He remembered when his mother died, or the Prewett brothers, the best thing anyone did to help him was quietly listen.

"It's been so long now since Lily and James," he continued. "I'd almost forgotten how – how piercing it is, to lose someone. I wake up, and I've forgotten for a few moments that my best friend, my...my last friend is gone." Turning to Silas, he sighed heavily. "I guess you know what this is like, since you went through the first war for a lot longer than I did."

Sighing, Silas kept his eyes on the stained sky. "I have lost, yes, everyone has. I am lucky that I never lost a best friend, but I have lost close ones, and it never, not ever, gets better once it's happened once. There will never be a cure for grief."

They sat in silence for a while longer, watching darkness slip through the sky, stars burn brighter.

Once it was fully dark, with not even the porch light reaching their spot on the lawn, Remus spoke again.

"How did we get here?" he asked. "I had these friends, friends who were like family to me, and somehow...I am the last one, when I always figured I'd be first. And Harry. What are we to do about Harry?"

"I think," said Silas slowly, "That we will have to be very gentle with him, which he will hate, but is nevertheless important."

Remus made a terrified face. "Sirius was closer to him than I, naturally. I don't know how to deal with an angry, grief stricken teen."

"I have had five teenagers," chuckled Silas, "and they are all different, but I've found that simply letting them know I'm here, and supportive, is sometimes all I can do."

"I wish Sirius was here so I could ask him," said Remus quietly, "And Lily and James, I just want...I hate being the last one."

Silas put an arm around Remus' shoulders. "Just do your best."

"I don't know how I can, when Dumbledore wants me to go undercover with the werewolves, in the mountains."

"Ah," Silas shook his head. "I didn't know that was a possibility."

"I'm going to put it off for a while," fidgeting with his collar, Remus looked utterly exhausted. "I just want to be here for a while, for Harry mainly."

"That's good." Silas squeezed Remus' shoulder and stood up. "Lets go inside, Orson sent me a chocolate cake by owl earlier today. It's a bit smushed from the journey, but yummy enough."

"All right." Remus stood with a sigh and looked over the dark lawn, then up at the stars. "I suppose it's good enough for now knowing that his name has been fully cleared."

Silas nodded, casting his gaze up at the sky. "Good enough for now."

A/N: Sirius Black's death will forever hurt me, mostly because it just ruined Harry. 

Can't believe this is almost sixty chapters holy moly. 

Rose