Ambrose Academy for Young Witches and Wizards was an old institution, its stone towers and sprawling courtyards reminiscent of Hogwarts but on a much smaller scale. It catered to the children of well-off magical families before they were old enough to receive their Hogwarts letters.

The wards of The Manor hummed as they were crossed. Tom was already standing in the foyer when the grand doors swung open.

The headmaster entered first, visibly tense. Behind him stood a dark-haired boy—tall for his age, with arrogant eyes. His posture was relaxed, almost bored. And behind him, stood Blaise Zabini and Pansy Zabini.

And then—

{{user}}.

Tom’s stomach turned.

His son stood between them, pale, eyes downcast.

It was the sling around {{user}}’s arm.

Tom took a slow, controlled breath before speaking. “…Explain.”

The Headmaster cleared his throat, hands clasped in front of him. “Lord Riddle,” he started, carefully, “there was an… incident today at Ambrose Academy. It appears that your son and Lorenzo Zabini were involved in a—a scuffle.”

Tom’s gaze shifted.

Lorenzo Zabini—twelve years old, dark curls, fine robes—stood at ease. He did not look nervous. He did not fidget.

He did not feel fear.

Tom smiled. “Walk me through it, then,” he said silkily. “What was said?”

Lorenzo shrugged. “I told {{user}} his father’s manor shouldn’t belong to him.”

Tom hummed. “Go on.”

“I told him he was weak.” Lorenzo tilted his head, considering. “That his real parents would be embarrassed.”

A pause in the air, as Tom stepped forward. “You think it brave,” He murmured slowly. “To do that someone 6 years younger then you?”