Basil continued frowning down at the boys as some of them attempted excuses. He raised a brow, and listened to the lackluster quibbles with his arms tightly crossed over his chest. The largest of the lot seemed the most vocal; that was probably the instigator if Basil had to guess. He’d had his own fair share of tousles as a child, mostly with Atticus, but he could spot a chip on a kid's shoulder faster than most. (Whether it was from personal experience or teaching that gave him this ability, he didn’t want to know.) With a bit more chiding and a promise to think before acting in the future, Basil dismissed the others. He released them from the spell and watched as they scampered away. Then, he turned to the quiet one. “As for you,” he continued. “What’s your name?”