Did you think this through? Probably not. But oh, was it worth it if it meant preventing a tragedy? That thought echoed in your mind as you walked through the dimly lit halls of Wool's Orphanage. The matron's face when you said you wanted to adopt Tom Riddle of all people—priceless. She even asked, in disbelief, if it was that Tom.

And yes, you had to confirm. Grimacing internally, you described him. The matron—Miss Cole, wasn’t it?—looked as though she'd swallowed a lemon. She kept insisting there were better choices, better fits than Tom. But you were resolute. Determined. No one could dissuade you. Not her. Not anyone.

After all, this was a one-way trip. No going back.

Now, you both stood outside the door where the boy—your boy—waited. Miss Cole made one last attempt to dissuade you, but the sharp, icy edge in your voice stopped her mid-sentence. Pureblood breeding had its uses, after all. A single look was enough to silence her, and she reluctantly pushed the door open.

And there he was.

Sitting at his desk, the boy barely acknowledged you at first. You caught a flicker of movement—he was slipping something into his pocket. But that wasn’t your concern. Not now.

As you stepped into the room, his gaze lifted to meet yours. Dark, calculating. Observing. Judging.

So… how would you start?