『 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗲 』

𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗐𝗈- 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘯

THE NEXT WEEK, Alex was in the Slytherin library, looking for a book when somebody walked in.

"Don't sneak up on me," said Alex clearly, not turning around. "It'll end badly."

"I'm sure," nodded Tom, lips quirking.

Alex rolled his eyes, grabbing a book and sitting down, not looking at the man. "What do you want?"

"What's wrong, Alex?" Tom's voice hardened. "Why do you keep disrespecting me?"

"You haven't done anything to earn my respect," scoffed the teenager. "What do you expect?"

"I've come back. I'm trying to be a father. You do not let me be one."

"You do not deserve to be one."

Tom looked away. "You won't give me a chance?"

"You're lord fucking Voldemort," said Alex, not looking at him. "Having someone you care for is a weakness. You should know that."

"I never said I cared."

Alex looked up, an emotion passing through his face, but it was gone as soon as it came. "I do not want a father," he said, ignoring what the man had said. "I was perfectly fine without one for 15 years."

"Fine," Tom's jaw clenched. "I'm not arguing with a fucking child."

Alex glared at him. "You left that fucking child."

The anger vanished from Tom's face immediately. "I didn't mean to. I didn't know that would happen. I didn't know I would die, Alex."

His son didn't reply.

Tom looked at the boy for a few minutes.

Alex didn't look away.

His eyes. Her eyes. Tom immediately looked away and walked out of the library without a word.

The teenager scoffed, throwing the book to the ground. He rubbed his face, letting out a shaking breath.

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A few hours later, Alex was in his room, getting ready.

He was planning to go to Diagon alley to get his school supplies, and also Knockturn alley— where he had to get something else.

He looked into the mirror, looking at his reflection.

He was wearing black ripped jeans, a black shirt, and a black leather jacket.

Satisfied, he walked to the fireplace in his room and grabbed a handful of floo powder, shouting, "Diagon Alley!"

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Stepping out of the fireplace, Alex frowned at the almost-empty alley.

A few minutes later when he was done buying his school supplies, he walked into Knockturn alley, not noticing a few teenagers staring at him from afar.

"What do you think he's doing?" whispered Harry Potter to his friends— Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.

"Shady business," muttered Ron bitterly. "What do you think?"

"Let's just go—" tried Hermione, but was hushed by Harry.

"He's coming out," Harry pointed to the boy— who was, indeed, coming out of Borgin and Burkes, putting something in his pocket. "What d'you reckon he bought?"

"A pack of poison," replied Alex smoothly, looking to his side. "Get out of there, Potter. You're just embarrassing yourself."

Harry Potter scoffed, stepping out of his hiding place. "Riddle."

Alex raised an eyebrow, then pulling out something from his pocket. "It is a pack of poison, by the way."

Harry gulped.

"Don't worry. It won't be you I'll be killing," said Alex, putting the pack of poison back in his pocket. "I just dislike my father."

Harry frowned.

Alex patted his shoulder with a small smirk. "See you around, Potter. You too, Granger. And Weasley," he called out as he was walking away.

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"I was just informed that you were at Knockturn Alley today," said Tom during dinner that night.

Alex took a sip of water. "Stalking me, are you?"

"No. My death eaters are just looking out for Potter in Diagon and Knockturn Alley."

"Your death eaters are shit at their jobs, then."

Tom frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Alex shook his head.

"What were you doing there, anyway?"

"None of your business," Alex stood up, daring to look at the man.

"You bought poison. As your father, I demand to know what you're up to."

"As my father, you weren't supposed to leave."

Tom rubbed his forehead in an attempt to ease his headache. "Alex, that's different. I'm here now."

"When mother's not around," his voice cracked.

The man sighed. "Why are you actually like this? It can't be because of that."

"You want to know the truth?" His son scoffed. "Alright, here's the truth. I don't blame you for leaving. However, I blame you for mother's death. And you were the reason. Dumbledore wanted Voldemort's family gone."

"That's not my fault," Tom didn't look at the teenager. "Your mother's death is not my fault."

"It is!" sneered Alex. "You know it as well as I!"

"You put the blame on me in an attempt to ease your pain. You're making it worse, Alex."

"This pain you think I have is a weakness you treasure. I am not weak."

"You are," Tom finally looked at him. "You're weak, Alex. You let your mother's death get to you."

"One day I will follow your footsteps," His jaw clenched. "One day I will kill my father, too."

Tom didn't have time to reply as the boy walked out of there immediately.