Querencia

"Magic is real."

"Mhm."

"Witches and Wizards are real."

"Yep." Phoenix with a pop of his lips, thanking the waitress who had come over to serve Tom's ice cream and Phoenix's order of coffee. Her face had turned awfully red before she squeaked something Tom thought may have been an "Enjoy" but sounded more like "eegjy" before dashing off. But her behavior wasn't important right now.

"How did you know that I was a wizard? Is there some sort of spell to check? Did you cast it while you were at the orphanage? Is that how you found me in the garden?" The adults back at the orphanage usually hated it when the children asked too many questions, but Tom couldn't help himself.

Magic Existed.

More than that, not only did Tom have it, but others did too.

"I'm not a freak." He thought giddily, trying not to smile.

"Yes, but only after I saw you talking to your adder. No, there isn't a spell to check, but I think there are some research centers in Brazil currently looking into it. I would have if I could, but no I did not. And I only found you because I was surveying the property, and you were doing very little to actually hide yourself." Phoenix ticked off each question dutifully, before making some sort of flicking motion with his hand that caused one of the napkins on their table to leap onto Toms lap and unfold itself. He would have felt insulted at the thought that he was going to make a mess on himself if he hadn't been so giddy at how Phoenix had done it.

"What else is real?” He asked, carefully scooping at his cherry ice cream. He didn't want a single bit of it to go to waste. Food was scarce back at the orphanage, and they couldn't afford to waste it. The same had to go even double for Magic food, right?

"Hm, well, plenty of other races, really.” Was the thoughtful reply, followed by the stirring of sugar and cream into his coffee. The albino had long since replaced his suit coat with an open cut outer robe. However, it didn't have the same bulkiness to it that the coat had and did little to hide the way his form fitting clothes clung to him. The tailor (with no hint of regret, Tom noted in suspicion) had claimed to have run out of other style of robes of his size. Phoenix didn't think it was a problem, but his ward kept catching more and more strangers like the earlier waitress staring like before. "Vampires, Werewolves, Ghosts, Goblins, Dragons…. Oh, and House Elves! We have some on our estate, and I know that Mipsy has been dying to meet you when I told her I was planning to adopt."

Tom took a few moments to digest this, taking another bite of his ice cream, when his guardian had paused and shifted in his seat. “What are House Elves?”

"Ah, that… is… far too complicated and something of a rather uncomfortable subject that I would rather wait until you're older to explain entirely, but they're kind of like a cousin to the Scottish Brownies." "So, they're not actual elves?" "Not even a little. Yeah, I know, it's weird. I don't know where the name came from either, I'll need to look into that. Back to the point, unlike their distant cousins, House Elves need an active bond with someone of magical descent, else they'll wither away. So, They act as household servants for Wicca folk, and in return for their service we create a bond similar to a familiar's with them. We get help in taking care of our houses and families, they get a home and the security that comes with a Wicca's bond."

Well, that didn't sound bad, but there was clearly something more to it than that Phoenix didn't want to talk about, so Tom merely nodded and changed the subject. "You said earlier that you knew because I was talking to my snake." Tom felt her wiggle under his new cloak, as if sensing their talk. "Does that mean that other Wizards can too? Talk to snakes, I mean."

"Technically," Phoenix started, dragging the word out slowly, "Yes. There are other wizards that can speak Parseltongue- that's the name for those who can speak the Serpents' language, by the way."

"But…?" Tom urged, frowning.

"But, there are very few wizards in Magical Britain who speak it." Phoenix shrugged, "It has something of a bad reputation, much like the animal it's associated with. Too many terrible wizards used it, and once a bad apple's found in the bushel, the bunch gets thrown away so…"

"So people fear it." Tom groaned. He wasn't too upset by the notion, fear can be an excellent tool when he needed it. Still, it would have been nice to know someone older who could teach more secrets about it.

Phoenix took a sip of his coffee, allowing his child a few moments to sulk.

"Tom, your magic ice cream is melting."

While he scrambled to scoop up the last of his significantly more melty than before magic ice cream, Phoenix set his cup down. "There's no need to fret too much about it. While there aren't many in Britain, there are plenty of others in various countries like Africa, India, Greece, Japan and a few others. In fact, Parseltongues are even revered in those most of those countries, since snakes hold no little amount of positive symbolism regarding protection and healing. Since you'll have to start taking lessons anyway-" Tom perked up at those words. Magic Lessons? "—I can see if one of them would be willing to act as a tutor in Parselmagic. We'll likely have to choose one from Africa or Greece, since they are the only ones lacking in eventful times at the moment. The political climate in Japan is a bit testy right now after the coup d'état that happened a few months ago; Gandhi has got his whole thing going right now in India, it should end by tomorrow, though, unless I've got my dates wrong again. Regardless of that, however, the relation with the civilians of India and the British government remains strained." The albino rambled as he fished out a silk pouch and took out a large, gold coin to place on the table. "I know a delightful woman in Ethiopia who could likely pull in someone for me. Ah, wait, hmm… I almost forgot about the formal absorption of Jimma… She might be too busy with the paperwork right now… I'll write her a letter when we get home. If she doesn't answer, I'll look into Greece."

"You know a lot about the other countries business." Tom commented, scowling when the other took to cleaning off his face with a napkin.

"Of course, these events are history in the making." The man grinned as if he had just made a joke, tossing the napkin in the trash before lifting the child into his arms. "And I've always been an avid fan of the study of History."

After tipping and leaving the ice cream shop, Phoenix took Tom to the pet shop for a bit to order a nice vivarium for his scaly companion. With a considerable amount of thought, and some helpful suggestions from both the shopkeeper and his guardian, Tom had decided to name her Adira. "Strong-willed indeed." His parental figure mused while she hissed smugly, before placing Tom down to look at the other snakes they had there. While some were disappointed that Tom was not looking to take any of them home, but most were more than happy just to talk with Tom when they realized he could understand them. Snakes of all shapes and sizes were calling for him to visit their exhibits, happy to talk to the "Little Hatchling Speaker." It took them a little longer to leave the pet shop than planned, since Tom didn't want to ignore a single one. In the end, Phoenix ended up buying one of the snakes after all.

The label on the sleepy serpent's terrarium said it was "Black Water Snake."

From the way the snowy-haired man's face spasmed at the sight of it before he had bee-lined it for the counter, on the other hand, Tom was going to guess that it wasn't.

"A Boiúna." The older wizard claimed after they left, exasperated. Faer, the said Boiúna, who was wrapped snugly around Phoenix's neck, grumbled unhappily at the noise. Adira cooed(? How did she do that?) at the younger serpent in response. "How in the name of fre sha vaca do did the owner managed to confuse a Baby Boiúna with a Water Snake? He has bright, glowing eyes! He turned into a toy boat twice! British Wizards amaze me. What was he going to do when the little guy started shedding? I-" Phoenix stopped when he looked down to see Tom's expecting stare, and sighed. "A Boiúna is a Magical Brazilian Snake. Intelligent, capable of shapeshifting, and a few other things. Extremely dangerous. You're not supposed to have one without a license. They also grow very BIG. He's tiny right now, but in a few years he'll likely be longer than I am tall."

"Why didn't you tell the shopkeeper?" Tom asked, frowning when he caught another stranger staring at the albino. The stranger flustered at his stare, before turning back to his window shopping.

"What, so he could raise the price and ask for a license that doesn't exist, when I can get a perfectly awesome snake familiar for one whole sickle?" Phoenix snorted as they entered the bookstore. "I think not! Now, where should we start?"

This is when the real shopping spree began, since Tom was far too eager to get anything that had magic in its title, and Phoenix was far more than willing to do the same with the History section. They had all but raided the section on Magical Snakes. (For once, people in the bookstore were content to browse and not to stare at his caretaker. This pleased Tom greatly. Yes, Bookstores are definitely the best.)

It would have been a perfect way to end their trip, too, had that hag of a woman not shown up.

After purchasing their books and had them shrunk for easy storage, Phoenix had mentioned to the clerk about more books he had ordered from overseas. She all but thrown herself at the door to check at Phoenix's inquiry, had just left when another person came up to the counter.

The blonde, skinny woman held herself arrogantly as she stood near the two, and Tom had noted that she would've been quite pretty, had she not had her face stuck like she was constantly smelling something terrible. No matter, He got really cool books on magic, no rude stranger was going to ruin that.

But the longer they waited, the more the woman would glance at them and scoff, eyeing their clothes with distaste and mutter under her breath. The more she looked down on them, the more Tom felt his own mood sour. Even Phoenix seemed less than pleased by her attitude, with the way his cheerful smile had cooled into its usual default placement the more she would look at Tom in particular. "She would have fit in well with the matrons." The child thought bitterly, glaring at her. Apparently, that was enough to insult her because she gave an affronted huff before turning to the pearly haired man next to him.

"Your child," She began haughtily, pointing a finger down at him, "is clearly lacking in manners. Haven't you taught him not to stare so rudely at his betters?"

"No, I'm afraid not!" The albino replied politely, almost sweetly so. "Though he has been taught to give back the respect that he's been given, so clearly he's doing something right."

Tom bit his bottom lip to keep from grinning when the lady sputtered indignantly, before she gathered herself enough to glower. "Dressed as you are, with such a poor posture, You must be half-bloods." She sniffed, pointing her nose upwards. "Maybe even mudbloods, if you don't even recognize who I am."

They were gathering watchers now, the child noticed though the corner of his eyes. People were watching the scene unfold with a lot of interest.

"This is a Wizarding Thing." He realized, and started to examine the scene with great attention.

"I do recognize you, actually." Phoenix hummed, gesturing to the ring on the middle finger of her right hand and shifted his stance; Right foot faced forward, and his left foot faced the side at a ninety-degree angle, with the left foot touching the right foot at the side of the right heel. "You are Lady Smith, wife to Lord Smith, and the Sister-in-Law to Heiress Hepzibah Smith."

"Hmph, perhaps you're not mudbloods after all." She admitted in return hesitantly, looking him up and down in distaste. "Though its far too late for you to be taking up such a posture now, better late than never. But I hardly recognize you, so you must be some lower house rank. Therefore, I will give you the honor of my greeting. I am Lady Shirley Magaretta Smith of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Smith, wife to Lord William Bartholomew Smith, Reigning Lord of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Smith-"

"What a fool." Someone muttered and sighed behind them the longer her greeting went, listing various titles and names. They all flew over the brunette's head, clearly she was trying to do something, show off? But Phoenix seemed to be pleased at least, watching her with apt attention as she continued on and on.

Faintly, it reminded Tom of a time when Mrs. Cole has used some sort of rat poison that left the mice all loopy and easy to capture because it had been cheaper than the other stuff. One mouse had managed to somehow run all the way out of the front yard and into the alley across the street, where a cat had been laying nearby. Phoenix reminded him strongly of that cat right now, the way it had watched the unsuspecting, delirious mouse make an utter fool of itself first before it finally grew bored by the show.

When she finally stopped, she gave a curt nod and nothing more, which Tom was convinced the politest thing she'd done all day. "I acknowledge your greeting, Lady Smith. In return, I shall give you mine." Phoenix said airily. "I am Lord Phoenix Mateo Frosland, first of my name, Lord of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Frosland, The 3rd House of the Sacred 25 of Spain." He then also gave a long list of titles, all of which Tom tried to remember for later questioning, while Lady Smith paled. Distraught with every word said until Phoenix finished, bowing at a perfect 60 degree angle. "And this," He added, reaching down to pick up his ward, "-is my son, Heir Thomas Eridanus Frosland, Heir to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Frosland."

Actually, Phoenix had changed his name to Thomas Eridanus (Both of them agreed that it sounded much better than Marvolo) Frosland-Riddle, but the younger felt that there was a reason Phoenix had left it out. So he said nothing.

"I acknowledge your greeting, Lord Frosland." Lady Smith said finally, voice barely above a whisper. "Please accept my apologies for my earlier behavior, It was discourteous of me."

"There is no need," He held up a hand, seemingly brushing it off but not exactly saying he forgave her either. "After all, it's as you said earlier, no? It's hardly your fault if you did not recognize me."

The people around them tittered, and she looked like she was going to faint.

(Tom was kind of hoping she would.)

"Of course." The words came out strangled as she gave a hurried curtsy. "If you would excuse me, Lord Frosland, I just remembered that I had something important to discuss with my husband and must return home post-haste."

"No problem at all." Phoenix replied, and both child and adult watched as she exited the building.