Querencia

Tom wasn't mad with his dad. Honestly, he wasn't.

He already knew the moment the man had sat him down and explained what he had found out that night what was going to happen. It was clear that Phoenix had already taken up responsibility for Mikaela in his heart as the one to discover her mother's corpse. The six-year-old couldn't fault him for his principles, nor could he say that he himself was comfortable with the thought of some other magical child going through the same hells he did. Even though she was really sweet, as a magical in a group of non-magical, Mikaela would have definitely faced some difficulties. He still remembered Mrs. Cole practically throwing one worker out into the streets when the employee had thought to mention bringing in a priest and exorcizing him.

He shuddered to think what they would have done had she agreed to it.

That said, that didn't mean that the young Heir wasn't going to mess with him a little.

"You know, dad, when you told me to be expecting a surprise this year, I thought you meant something like gifting me my own library or some nonsense. I definitely wasn't expecting a younger sister." He said without looking up from his book when he heard his father give a long-suffering sigh. Mikaela had practically turned into a miniature whirlwind when she heard about the greenhouses filled with magical plants, and had dragged Kippy off to ask questions about every single one of them.

"Do you think her mom was a witch too? Did you take her to Gringotts and get an inheritance test done yet?" It was something Phoenix had done for Tom as well, a few months after he was adopted. It was shocking at first, to know he had family out there. Much less to know that weak woman he had for a mother had been the magical one of the parents, but they were quickly dismissed when Phoenix told them about the current state of them.

"I already looked into it." Phoenix shook his head, putting down his quill. "I took her yesterday after she finished getting settled in during your play date with young Abraxas, and no magical inheritance showed up. Mikaela is a Firstblood. While getting disowned by her family because of her lover is a pretty common backstory for most pureblood daughters who run off with a muggle, it just so happened that this time was not the case. Audrey Laurent really was just a Muggle Frenchwoman with a good heart, who married another Muggle who was decidedly less of a good heart."

"Wow, what a coincidence."

"I know, right? Perhaps Ms. Mabel was on to something after all with the whole coincidence theory. Things are going to get far more lively around here, that's for sure."

"Tommy!" Mikaela latched onto his arm, and Tom had to take a deep breath and remind himself that Dad would not approve of a murder in his household. "Tommy, I need your help with something!"

"First, it's Thomas, or even Tom if you'd like. My name is not Tommy." He started firmly, trying to get her to let go of him. "—and second, what do you want?"

"I need help reading a book on Potions." She stated.

He blinked, "…Oh."

"What's wrong?"

"It's just you're usually running about the place trying to sneak Devil's Snare into your room, so I thought that this would be another plant based request of some sort."

Phoenix hadn't been lying when he said thing were to get more interesting, as Mikaela brought a bright and lively presence to the estate in the following months since she arrived. Though, with liveliness, came chaos in the form of a good-natured and stubborn five-year-old. Trying to hug the Venomous Tentacula they had in the greenhouses. Trying to eat Alihotsy leaves, which cause uncontrollable laughter. Attempting to sneak Alihotsy into everyone's food after they had stopped her from eating one herself, which led to Kippy banning her from the Greenhouses with a heavy heart until she was taught more on safety and handling. Sneaking into the Frosland portrait room to decorate their frames with all kinds of flowers. (That one wasn't so bad, the portraits seemed to enjoy it at least.) The list was endless. Sometimes she would try to drag Tom or Phoenix into it too, which, depending on the idea, would either lead to hilarious events or her getting a lecture on safety.

"Harold's just lonely, that's all! He's a good plant, and he's trying his best." The girl insisted. "But that's not the point right now. Mr. Nix was telling me about how a lot of potions use plants for all kinds of effects. I know that we can't use any for Momma: It would hurt her more than help since she's non-magical, but I thought that maybe we can find something that can be used to treat others who can take them."

(Tom didn't say anything when she mentioned her mother, and wisely filed it away for another time. Phoenix was losing enough sleep as is trying to figure out a way to break it to her without breaking her.)

"And you couldn't ask Dad for help?"

"I would have, but he got a call from the floo from some…" She scrunched her nose and tipped her head back, before making a wavy gesture with her hand that looked a lot like kelp underwater. "—Flowy man. He started saying some weird things like "Beyoncé" and "An Avocado." Next thing I knew, Mr. Nix had dropped me outside his office and told me to come ask you for help."

"Huh. That is kinda weird." Tom remarked, puzzled. "That or he finally met his match in the Weird Eccentric Guy department. Well, if it's really important, Dad will tell us about it later. Come on, let's go check the library. I think I remember that we have some tomes in the middle section regarding the creation of potions…"

"I'M GETTING A FRIEND TODAY!" Mikaela yelled throughout the house, running in and out of the dining room as the father and son duo sleepily ate their breakfast. "I'M GONNA MAKE FRIENDS WITH ANOTHER WITCH TODAY!"

"Don't run in the house, Mipsy just waxed the floor." Tom tiredly informed, taking a bite of his eggs. His warning ignored, she continued to dash about the house, and he sighed when he heard the sound of a body meeting the tile. "I warned you."

"You alright back there, Mikaela?" Phoenix called out, inclining his head back in the process, but not once looking up from his newspaper.

Silence reigned for one, sweet, succulent moment.

"I'M MEETING A NEW FRIEND TODAY!"

"She's fine." The adult shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee as the sound of running (and yelling) resumed.

"You sure Heiress Lovegood is going to be able to handle her?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, their Lineage Gift has always left the family a little quirky. One more odd duck isn't doing to disturb the pond, just another ripple to the other four making waves."

"Well, at least you and her are making some friends of similar cloth."

"Mhm… Wait a second, why was I included?!"

"She had really pretty eyes and hair, and smile, and laugh~ And She was so nice when she showed me around the house, and OH her room was so wonderful! I-"

"Simp." Phoenix muttered under his breath as Mikaela continued on about her play date with Aglaia. Tom shot him a questioning look. "What does that word mean?"

"I'll tell you when you're older, just know that right now, Mika is being one."

"1… 2… 3… 4… 5…" Mikaela counted quietly to herself, using her purple crayon to write down her progress. "At 10… We start again… 1… 2… 3… 4… 5…"

"Maybe this is a bad idea." Phoenix paced back and forth anxiously in front of her, messing with anything he could get his hands on. His hair, the buttons on his vest, his cufflinks. Nothing was safe from being tinkered with. "Maybe I should wait a few more years."

"It's a good idea. You're his papa, why wouldn't he like the idea?" The girl disagreed breezily as she numbered how many times the albino paced from wall to wall.

"Maybe I should hold it off. I mean, sure, It might be more effective at seven," The ivory-haired male muttered, and Mikaela groaned as she let her head hit the table with a very noisy thunk. "—but I can sacrifice some effectiveness for his content."

She sighed, not even bothering to pick her head up again as she made more tallies.

Eventually, Tom managed to slink his way into the room and settle down next to her without Phoenix noticing. "This is a first, usually Mipsy has to be holding a flip-flop for him to be this freaked out. How long has he been like this?" He whispered, and the five-year-old gave a helpless shrug, before reaching under the coffee table and dropping an entire stack of paper covered in nothing but tally marks. "Long enough for me to have learned how to make my handwriting smaller." She deadpanned.

"Wow." The Heir rose an impressed brow. "At least your teachers will be happy with the progress."

"Cheese-zus Christ on a Cracker-" His father swore(? Did that count as a swear? What kind of phrase was that?) when he finally turned his attention to the both of them. "Nearly two years in this house, and you'd think you'd learn to knock."

"Sorry, Dad, I was curious to see how long it would take before you wore a bootleg trail into the floor." Tom apologized as Mikaela hummed in agreement, resting her arms and head on her giant stack of papers. He then gestured towards his father's harried appearance. "Want to talk about this?"

"This." Phoenix echoed, looking behind him before belatedly realizing his son was talking about him. "This, uh. This is… ah. So seven is- I mean, so your seventh birthday is-"

"Pacey McGee wants to preform a blood adoption on your birthday in two weeks, so no meanie head can raise a fuss about it when you go to Hogwarts." Mikaela interrupted with a sigh, ignoring the offended whine-like noise that left the adult. "But he's been too afraid to bring it up because he thinks you would hate the idea. Something something too soon something something comfort blah blah blaaah~" She slid off the papers and landed with a dramatic smack onto the floor, leaving only her legs sticking up on the couch. "He's been talking himself in and out of the idea since this morning. I came in to ask about Harold again, but he was so antsy pantsy I thought it would be a bad idea."

"I don't even know what you want to do with Harold, but the answer is no." Phoenix commented, making her groan for what was likely the fifth time today.

"I don't even care any more at this point, I'm too tired from watching you and counting for so long."

"Going back to the topic at hand," Tom interrupted, getting their attention again. "I thought Blood Adoption was illegal?"

"Only in England, and the US. Maybe Canada too, I don't know. Even then, it's only on paper; You can't prove what you can't find." Phoenix replied flippantly, "Honestly, it's only because they were stupid about it and tried adopting a child using both parents. Causes too much pain, the shock of the process too much for a child to handle. Safer to have one parent blood adopt the child first and then have the other adopt when they're older. Regardless, Blood adoption's actually pretty common here and in other countries. People just don't talk about it out in the open, all very hush hush. I caused quite the scandal when I brought you in and didn't even bother to hide the adoption."

"Why don't they talk about it?" Mikaela asked, moving to join the other two in not being an upside down starfish.

The albino shrugged, "Why would they? It's no one else's business whether the kid was born with their genes first or not. Though I'm not going to lie and say pride isn't the other reason. Not many want to admit their line would have been dead ages ago if they hadn't nabbed a baby in the knick of time. The Alamilla Family had to do it eight times consecutively, until the pattern was broken a few generations ago when the former Lady Alamilla gave birth to octuplets. Now they have more kids than they know what to do with, and eight is a very celebrated number in their house. The Current Lord Clemente was also a saving grace baby, but he gets really prickly if you bring it up… mostly because no one else is supposed to know. But we can discuss juicy household gossip later. Point is, it's possible, legal, and we use it a lot. To the point we know the best rituals or potions to use and what ages to use them."

"And Seven is one of them!" The female chirped, gaining a nod from Phoenix.

Tom took a moment to ponder this.

There were plenty of benefits if he took this offer. He would be officially the Frosland Heir by blood, and there was the possibility he could inherit their Lineage gift as well, whatever it was. (Dad never really talked about it, but Tom suspected it had something to do with sight or information. A lot of the ancestral portraits had glowing eyes too, and the albino knew far too much about everyone else's business, like the comment about Lord Clemente.) Any of the more elitist purebloods who protested Tom's existence would also be easier to shut down, even with his Slytherin ancestry keeping them somewhat settled.

Most importantly, it meant that Phoenix would be his father.

The six-year-old hesitated.

"What if… What if the ritual fails. What happens then?" He asked, trying to subtly grip at his clothes without the others noticing. He must have failed, because Mikaela was quick to wiggle her way by his side and link her arm with his and hold hands. She patted his back reassuringly with the other hand, while his dad looked like he was holding back the urge to pick his son up and carry him like he so often does.

"There's a very slim chance it will fail, I've told you before how seven is a powerful number in the magical community." Phoenix replied, his foot tapping restlessly. "But if it did… If it did, then nothing would happen, nor change. You are still my son, and no one will be able to contest otherwise." He declared the last part with confidence, and a stormy look appeared in those lavender eyes that reminded Tom of that day in Diagon Alley when Lady Smith was humiliated. "Not without very serious repercussions at least."

"Okay. Okay. Let's do it." The boy let out a deep breath, and the tension in the albino's shoulders lessened greatly. Tom licked his lips, and in an attempt to be nonchalant, pointed his nose upwards as he sniffed, "I hate the name Riddle anyway, too puzzling."

"That's a shame." His father laughed breathlessly, walking over to sit down and drag both kids in his lap for a hug that was no doubt meant for him more than it was either child.

"I've always been fond of Riddles."