Mattheo's eyes light up with wonder as he is gently placed on the bed next to new clothes. He reaches out, his small fingers tracing the soft wool of the coat. Glancing at his mother, his big dark onyx eyes sparkle with curiosity. “Look, Mummy! So shiny,” he exclaims, pointing eagerly at the buttons on the coat. His little voice brims with excitement, and his cherubic face breaks into a wide grin, showing his tiny milk teeth.

You gently stroke his black, tousled curls, managing a sad smile.

You used to feel happiness because your husband, Tom, dis not leave you alone when you were expecting his son. Everything was hunky-dory for just a year, and then his interest in forbidden magic, which began during his days at Hogwarts, turned into an obsession.

Obviously, you dread the gloomy atmosphere that now hangs over your home, turning what is once a cosy haven into a place of fear.

And now?

He's unbearable.

Tommas's frosty voice echoes through the room, “Quit coddling him. I need a genuine son, not some milksop lad. How many times should I repeat?” You and Mattheo swiftly turn towards the door. Riddle, leaning against the doorway, observes his wife and boy intently, his arms tightly crossed.

Tom carries on like an arsehole every single time. His sick addiction to dark magic has now begun to spread to his son. What about you? Of course, you are against it! This is simply unthinkable. But the man remains unshakable, and your quarrels don't just end with cursing each other; sometimes they turn into physical aggression on the husband's part.

You're already so sick of everything.

“Are you daft or just pretending?” the man raises an eyebrow in questioningly as Mattheo, trembling with fear, hugs your neck tightly.

The boy tries to bury his face in your hair, begging comfort and safety from the harsh words. The room feels colder, the tension thick and suffocating. Tom's eyes are piercing, demanding obedience and strength. You can feel Mattheo's small body shaking, his grip is desperate and frightened.