The Years of Riddle

Chapter Sixty-Five | Ottery St. Catchpole, September 1997

**for music, skip to 0:30. This is one of my favourite songs ever, it's worth the little bit of effort**

Chapter Sixty-Five

Ottery St. Catchpole, September 1997

         When the kids left for Hogwarts, or their own homes, the house always felt different. There was less shopping to be done, little mess to clean up; a silence settled, one that could feel heavy at times. Silas wondered if Anthony had felt this way, though to a different level entirely; he had been alone, Gwyn was gone. When Violet left for school, Anthony had truly been alone.

Magnus was the last of their kids at Hogwarts, and that day at the station Silas felt his age for the first time in a while. Watching his son, mop of dark hair falling in his eyes, a little uncomfortable in his skin and a little shy, he had felt protective. Obviously Magnus did not necessarily need protection, he was fine; other than the war, Magnus was safe and well adjusted.

It was a golden evening when, two weeks after sending Magnus off to Hogwarts, Silas watched Remus Lupin walk up the lane. An unexpected visit, though Silas never minded. He had been worried about Remus.

Over the years, Silas and Remus had grown close. Perhaps not like brothers, and not quite like a father and son, but something close. They sat in the back garden, as they had shortly after Sirius had died. Silas could feel the Remus' unspoken words heavy in the air, and simply waited.

"Tonks is pregnant." He said finally, the words rising into the damp air, caught in the cloud of his breath.

"Hm." Silas nodded, eyes on the starry horizon. Dark bellied clouds were approaching from behind them. "Congratulations Remus, that is...wonderful, truly."

"Aren't I a little old?" he asked, smiling a little, though looking quite dejected.

Tilting his head, Silas let his gaze drift. "Thirty-seven isn't old. Perhaps in our society it is above the average age to have a child, but no, I think you're doing fine." He paused, then, "But its not your age you're truly concerned with though, is it?"

Remus struggled for a moment. "The...child could have werewolf tendencies."

"That is not a given, and you know that."

"Even if the child does not end up like me," said Remus bitterly, "I have made them outcasts."

"Remus, no...oh, no..." Silas turned to look at his old friend, expression serious. "You haven't done any such thing –"

"It's true though!" he cried, vaulting himself from his chair. "They're better off without me, they are –"

"Remus, listen to me." Standing, Silas took Remus by the shoulders. "I'm going to tell you a secret, one that I used to be ashamed of – it has taken me years to accept this."

Remus stilled, letting him speak.

"Anthony is not my biological father," he began, still holding him in place. "My mother – Gwyn – grew up in an orphanage, where she befriended a wizard. That wizard was Tom Riddle."

"Volde –?" Remus stopped himself before he could complete the name, and gaped at Silas. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Tom Riddle is my biological father," he stressed, "I did not find out until I was about twenty, and this was a little while before Riddle went completely dark. There were rumours, of course, and I...I did let them get to me, for a long time. I put myself in danger, I would have hurt Inesa – hurt my family." He caught Remus' gaze; the younger man seemed torn. "My biology, my blood, does not define me, Remus. And neither does yours."

"It's different, Silas, you don't..."

"Understand?" he finished. "I understand not wanting to pass on the genes of a monster, of someone or something that could or does kill." Sighing heavily, Silas let him go. "So yes Remus, I do understand."

"So maybe you understand a little." Said Remus, with resistance. "What if I hurt them?" he asked, softly, eyes on their shoes, toes almost touching.

"Then at least you will have tried before doing so," Silas pulled him into a hug, gripping his jacket. "I'm positive your child will be better off with a father who tried than one who never bothered to at all."

And then Remus was crying, as many grown men try not to; the heaving, horrible, and messy kind that reduces you to nothing, exhausts you. The two stood in the dark, gripping each other, Remus' gulping sobs swallowed by the darkness. The clouds had rolled over them now, and rain began to fall, not hard, but enough to dampen their clothes.

"Would you like to come in?" asked Silas finally.

Remus shook his head. "I think I need to go see Tonks."

"Good." Nodding, Silas let him go and took a step back. "I'm proud of you, Remus."

He looked sheepishly at his old mentor. "Thank you Silas, for...for everything you've done for me in the past nineteen years."

"You are more than welcome," he smiled a little, pushed damp curls from his eyes. "Go to your wife Remus, don't make me talk such sense into you ever again."

"You won't." he promised seriously before turning to go; he paused before hopping over the fence. "Silas?"

Silas nodded, hands in his pockets, head titled up to the sky. "Yes?"

"I won't tell anyone, about – about your biological father."

"I appreciate that Remus."

"Thank you for trusting me," he added, disappearing into the damp dusk.

Standing in the rain, Silas watched the evening seep out from behind the hills, the clouds tumble towards the sunset. He heard the door open and close behind him, then felt warm arms wrap around him.

"You're going to get a cold, standing out here in the rain." Inesa mumbled into his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Come inside, I've brought soup home from Molly."

"Just stand with me a moment," he asked, voice hushed. Inesa complied, leaning into his side; he wrapped his arms around her tiny, soft frame, closing his eyes for a moment. He remembered the lake, kissing her for the first time, that night of their honeymoon where they talked from dusk until dawn, about everything. He thought of their children, their grandchild, the home they had built. How rain on his face still felt the same. Gwyn slipped into his thoughts, and even after all these years, his chest tightened, and it felt as if something were stuck in his throat.

"Okay." He said at last, looking down at her. "I'm ready to go in."

She kissed his cheek again, squeezed his hand. They had never really needed words; the couple went inside, they ate supper together and retired to bed. Like the young people they had once been, they did not sleep – instead, they talked all night, from dusk till dawn. As darkness descended on their life, and light crept into their bedroom, they wondered if this would be the last time.

A/N: Oh my sad boys, why.

We are really really nearing the end now and I'm SAD ABOUT IT.

Question: thoughts on Silas telling Remus about Tom Riddle?

For context, this occurs after Remus visits Harry, Ron and Hermione at Grimmauld place. 

I'm quite pleased with this chapter. It felt good, and I just like how my words turned out and the descriptions ... I don't know.

Rose

Edit: also well done me, leaving this without a title for something like two hours...

ALSO! I'm almost at 2k followers? Somehow? Wacky. Thank you!?