The Years of Riddle

Chapter Fifty-Eight | The Burrow, July 1996

Chapter Fifty-Eight

The Burrow, July 1996

         Silas stood in his dark office, staring out at the rainy day occurring beyond the windowpanes. He was still holding his brief case, his cloak still fastened; it had been a long, hard week. Actually, it had been a long, hard month, ever since Sirius Black had died and the Ministry had finally acknowledged that You Know Who was back. He had pleaded with Fudge to just leave poor Harry Potter alone – he had been through enough, for Merlin's sake – but the Minister hadn't listened.

Now Fudge, who Silas had not minded on the whole, despite being a complete idiot about You Know Who's return, had been sacked and replaced by Rufus Scrimgeour. Silas was afraid that Scrimgeour would make the same mistake Fudge had, prioritizing appearance, making it seem as if they were safe and in control when really everything was flying off the rails. He was also suspicious that Scrimgeour would be even more persistent to talk with Harry than Fudge, who appeared bumbling and rather harmless, and was for the most part, but had a temper Silas had never been on the receiving end of, but had witnessed.

"Papa?" Ivy peered into her father's office, scrunching her nose. "Would you like the light on?"

Silas struggled for words for a moment, and then shook his head. "No love, I'm all right."

"I'm going over to the Weasley's," she told him, stepping into his office. "Want to come along?"

Turning to his daughter, Silas put his briefcase down and opened his arms. "Could I have a hug?" he requested.

Ivy nodded, then laughed as he wrapped her up in a wet hug. "Papa! Your cloak is soaking!" she screeched, and he smiled a little.

"Sorry," he tapped his wand to his sleeve, and it dried. He remembered then that the Weasley's had a guest – Dumbledore had brought Harry Potter there just a few nights ago. "I think I will join you."

"Great, I'll go get my cloak. It's pouring." She left, long blonde braid swinging behind her.

Dark clouds rolled overhead, disappearing beyond the hills. Ivy had already let the hood of her cloak drop, and her long hair was falling out of its braid. "I don't understand why we can't take the floo," huffed Ivy as they walked down the lane; the rain had stopped, though the sun was still shy.

"They're under immense protection Ivy, you know that."

"Just because of Harry Potter?"

"Yes," he took her hand, despite her being eighteen. Ivy would be joining the auror training team in a few weeks time, and Silas was terrified. "Do I need to remind you not to listen to the papers?"

"No, Pa." she frowned. "Do you think Scrimgeour will be a good minister?"

"I'm not sure yet Ivy, but I hope he'll do something right."

"But you think its unlikely he will?" she searched his face for any clue. "You've always been good with guessing how something will turn out."

"Unlikely, yes." Silas admitted. "I have a bad feeling about the whole business."

They climbed over the hill, Silas a little winded by the top. Ivy laughed at him a bit, and upon spotting Molly at the door waved frantically. "Molly!" she cried, zipping down the hill.

"Hullo Ivy love," Molly hugged the girl, the ushered her in. "The twins are somewhere, Bill and her are in the back garden..." she huffed and let Silas give her a friendly peck on the cheek.