"Enter," the deep voice of his father would have sent shivers down Tom's spine, if he had not long since decided that fear was for the lower classes.
"Yes, father," Tom keeps his bearing demure, voice low, eyes on Tom Sr.'s desk and not his face. He may not be afraid, but he is not stupid.
"Your mother," his voice is acerbic, and Tom almost bristles because his mother is in the room – silent – with them, "and I have decided that you will be allowed to attend this school."
If he were a lesser boy, Tom would have grinned in delight. However, as he is simply Tom, the news brings a small glow to his chest but no change to his outer appearance except a bow of gratitude.
"Thank you, father."
The older man barks a laugh, derisive and short, and his son's fingers twitch at the sound.
"Do not think that I in any way condone your – abilities. I am merely allowing you to attend for the sake of my own sanity. You will be much safer there, with others of your kind, than here."
Safer. No, Tom thinks, not my safety.
He does not respond to his father's comment, but his mother steps forward to place a gentle hand on her son's shoulder.
"Come, Tom. We should talk, you and I." She does not glance back at her husband, but Tom notices that she flinches when he snorts.
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~ TheAlabasterPhoenyx
