His father is waiting for him at the station, and that is how he knows something is incredibly wrong.
Tom Riddle Sr., Esq. would never be caught dead in a place so blatantly magical, and yet here he stands, face stoic and lip curled slightly in disdain. His son follows him silently, carrying his own bags, and does not let his own face drop from its calm, assured mask.
Walburga and her brother watch them leave. The girl feels a great well of pity in her heart for the poor boy who has to live with such a filthy Muggle, and Alphard is too busy comparing the almost identical faces to worry about his roommate.
Tom's father does not speak to him except to make it clear that magic will not be tolerated in his home and the only reason why he came to get his son was because Tom's mother had given birth to a baby girl just three days before.
"What is her name, Father?" Tom's voice is cold and formal, and he strokes Ari to calm his displeasure at returning to his Muggle family.
"Elizabeth Merope Riddle. You may not have heard at your wizard school" – this he said in the same manner as most men say whorehouse – "but England has a new King and Queen."
"Yes, Father, we heard," and neither say anything more.