"This place, Nicholas, you will never set foot in this place. It's for people who are better than you," His father said, looking down at him with sharp eyes, as if seeing into his very soul. His lips were pursed with disappointment, and the words buried into Nick like shards of glass laced with poison.
They were standing in front of an old building, withering but still towering over them in all it's glory. Parts had been replaced with more modern architecture, but the message was still clear. It was important; both because of its history, and what it's used for now.
One of the best schools in the world. Basically Hogwarts, but realistic, Nick always jokes about when he's alone, but God help him if his father finds out. He loves this place more than his own son.
The older man moved his hand and waved it in the air - either a goodbye, or a dismissal. Probably both, knowing him. Nick waited until the retreating figure was a good twenty yards away before calling out after him; "I'll make this better, I'll find a way,"
There was the unmistakable sound of a snort, and then he was alone in the grassy field, still staring at that amazing structure, wishing he didn't care about it as much as he did.