Querencia

Despite the whispers of war on the horizon, King's Cross Station was exactly how Mikaela had remembered it. Crowded with people of all shapes and sizes bustling in and out, this way and that, all in an attempt to get their destination. Like little mice who scurried across clean kitchen floors in hopes of finding a morsel of food.

She waved at every employee and smiled in delight whenever they recognized her, while they gave a wave of their own in return. A small morsel of relief she offered them, in these days of growing tension that spread throughout London, before she disappeared back to her Papa and her brother's side. She had always wondered why no one noticed the funny people walking through the wall when she had been younger. Now she knew it was because they couldn't even if they wanted to.

Not without guidance.

"-Alright, now let's go over what I told you a week ago." Phoenix started, "fixing" Tom's robes again, much to the annoyance Adira, who was hiding beneath. (He was just fretting, both the children and the snake knew it. Tom always kept himself very immaculate.) "We've gone over every ward in the books, so remember to use them on your bed and trunk, even when you're not in the room. Regardless of the Frosland name, I cannot guarantee your safety in the Snake's Den. That said, their families also cannot guarantee their safety. Therefore-"

"Don't get caught, I know." His son sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his tweed brown hair. ("He has escaped the family curse of white hair… for now." Their father had joked at the time, and later made the same joke with Mikaela once she had chosen the option of blood adoption as well.) He also subtly glared at some nearby adults, likely because he felt that they had stared at the older albino a tad too long for his liking.

("So what if people think Papa is pretty? You can't hate them for liking pretty things, Tom." "I don't hate them, Mikaela. I just… I'll explain it later.")

"Right." Phoenix hesitated, before moving on to Mikaela to fuss over. Unlike her brother, however, she preened under the attention. "Right. And if you have troubles with your housemates?"

"Go to Slughorn, my Head of House."

"And if he's an absolute useless twat and does nothing to make you feel safe in your own House quarters?"

"Go to the Hufflepuff Head of House." Both children repeated in unison, without missing a beat. "A protective badger is far more terrifying than an irritated snake."

"Good job." Phoenix patted their heads, before perking up at the sight of someone behind them. "Ah! There's the Malfoy's. Come along, I'm sure Gaius would like to say goodbye to the both of you."

Tom gave a relieved sigh as he fell onto the cushioned seat, while Abraxas busied himself by putting his things away in the compartment above their seats. Lord Malfoy had to politely manhandle his father into letting the three go after about 15 minutes of Phoenix hesitating, with the reasoning that they had to find a booth before it became too crowded. He insisted they write him at least every one or two weeks, gave one final bone-crushing hug, and sent them on their way. Mikaela had left them mere moments after they stepped foot onto the train, more excited than he's ever seen her, shooting off to go find Algaia.

"She's done something." The Frosland heir spoke, and his friend sat next to him with a thoughtful, calculating look. "There's no way she's that excited about Hogwarts or meeting with Gaia."

"...Harold?" Abraxas questioned.

"Harold." Tom groaned, pressing his head against his hands. "Of course." She had been trying to smuggle Harold, or at the very least a cutting of Harold, out of the greenhouse for years now.

"Are you going to tell your father?"

"No," The brunet shook his head. He felt that she'd earned it at this point, to use the chaos of their departure to get by unnoticed. "They'll figure it out on their own eventually. Let Mika celebrate her victory while she can."

"I see." His friend nodded, "And what of Acanthus Lestrange, the one currently looking through the windows of our compartment?"

Tom turned to look towards the door, only to see the kid squeak and duck down out of view. "Ah, Him. Don't worry, dad already warned me about him."

A few nights before, Phoenix had pulled his son aside and explained that he might have done something to earn Lord Lestrange's interest a few years prior to Tom's adoption. "Nothing threatening, I just forgot how… intense, the Lestrange Family tends to be." The albino explained, "I'm telling you this, because it's likely he's passed his... interest down onto his son. What you decide to do with him is up to you, of course. I only ask you don't do anything too drastic."

The last sentence had been Phoenix speak for "Please do not maim him." Which was ridiculous, Tom would never injure someone for being irksome towards his person.

Not in public, anyway.

And certainly not when the person could prove useful.

("Not everyone has to be a tool, Tom." Mika's voice whispered in his ear, and he mentally waved it away. He knew that, but it didn't mean he would go about befriending everyone who so much as showed interest in him. Sometimes connections and tools were easier for what was needed, and easier to dispose of.)

"Let him in." The Frosland spoke, a charming smile pulling at his lips as Adira gave a pleased hiss when they laid eyes on a wide-eyed, eager boy.

After all, Tom had never had a puppy before.

"Did you bring him?" Algaia whispered as her childhood friend came bolting in, locking the doors and closing the curtains, causing the other two 11-year-olds in the room to shuffle warily. The brunette puffed her chest with pride, and nodded. "Um, bring who, exactly?" The boy spoke up, eyeing the small looking box in her hands. Mikaela grinned, and opened up the box just enough for the contents to be revealed.

"Just a little friend." Algaia replied with a calm yet mischievous smile, as the two strangers shrieked and gaped.

"Say hello to Harold Jr.! I'm calling him Harry for short."

Tom drew in an awed breath, unable to help himself, as the boats moved out of the forest and foliage to reveal Hogwarts to him and his future classmates. What would be a second home, and a part of his heritage stood in the form of a historical castle that had valiantly resisted the whims and cruelty of time. He could hear other children mutter or shout in excitement around him, and Lestrange was practically vibrating in his seat; Torn between watching Tom's reaction and the glory of the Castle.

"Our fathers did not do it justice." He heard Abraxas whisper in wonder, and the brunet could not agree more.

When the boats finally arrived upon the land, the doors of the school opened, and out stepped a man with auburn hair and beard.

"Good Evening, children." The man smiled, polite and genial, as he ushered them in. "I am Professor Dumbledore, the Deputy Headmaster and Head of House for Gryffindor. In a few minutes, the doors to the Great Hall will be opened, and you will be called forth one by one to be tested to see which house you belong in. Now, now, no need to get anxious. It's a very simple test." He reassured, chuckling at the way some still tittered and wrung their hands.

Tom narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the Professor. He'd never heard of the man before yet something about him felt... off. Not dangerously off, but more of an annoying kind of off. Like the moment Tom did something he didn't like, he was going to be a pain in the backside, kind of off.

...Merlin, what was he going on about? He was starting to sound like his father. The house did NOT need another eccentric, questionable male making awfully specific decision or opinions about people he's never met before. Maybe it was the Family Gift? Phoenix never really talked about what it was, or what it did, other than the fact that it made their eyes glow when emotions were felt strongly. Maybe he should ask him, in his letter to home.

"Now, before I leave, I must ask for you all to get in single file lines. As neatly as possible if you can, thank you. Get to know your future classmates in the meantime, and after a while, the doors will open, and that'll be your cue to step right in and get sorted right quick." Professor Dumbledore reassured them, giving them a small, jovial bow before turning on his heel and leaving them all unsupervised. Which, in Toms humble opinion, was just asking for someone to do something incredibly stupid like start a fight. But alas, it seemed few adults rarely did the wise thing very often. For now, brunet merely scanned the crowd until he saw Mikaela, and noted her position in case anything like an all out brawl really did happen. (And If she caused it, to be her alibi.)

"They wouldn't make us do anything too hard for the sorting, right?" He heard a girl whisper behind him. "In front of all those people? I hope not." A boy whispered back.

"Do you know how they'll sort us?" Lestrange tugged at Tom's sleeve, "My father refused to tell me anything, said it would ruin the experience. But your dad never went to Hogwarts, right? Maybe our fathers told him something?"

He should have shrugged him off. He should have given some vague response and told him to wait and see like everyone else. Distant but kind, so that he wouldn't get attached. But Acanthus gazed at him so expectantly, so hopeful in a manner unbefitting that of a Lestrange going into the Slytherin House, and it reminded him of when he and his sister were five. When she was unable to read the words as well as he could and looking at him to hold all the answers to everything.

("Not everyone is a tool, Tom." Mikaela's voice whispered in his mind once more, and reluctantly, he conceeded she was right. Though it would never be said out loud.)

"Relax, Lestrange. My father said that the test is incredibly simple, and my father is not a man who lies." Not to me, at least.

"Truly? It's not going to be hard at all?" The young heir sounded relieved, yet also vaguely disappointed.

"As easy as putting on a hat." Tom echoed his father, his lips pulling up to imitate the same secretive smile as well, and felt amusement when Lestrange's eyes went wide. He left it there as the large doors opened, and fell into line with the rest of the first years as they stepped into the Great Hall.

Turns out, Papa had been rather literal when he told Mikaela and Tom that the sorting was easy as putting on a hat.

Because it was a Hat. The Sorting Hat. A very old one who sang a tune that Mikaela didn't bother to listen to because she already knew what House she wanted. She was practically vibrating in place as names were called out, ecstatic that her last name meant she would be called sooner, yet impatient nonetheless.

"Mikaela Frosland!"

She practically bolted the moment her name was called, causing a chorus of chuckles across the Hall, and beamed up at Mr. Dumbledore until he placed the Hat over her head.

"Well, well, its been a while since I met a child like you." A voice spoke in her head, old and thoughtful, but amused and kind. "Too excited to be scared, and so determined too! Hmm, and quite the gall as well..."

"Hullo!" She greeted with her thoughts once the Sorting Hat stopped mumbling, because that was the polite thing to do. "I would like to be in Hufflepuff, please."

"Hufflepuff? Hmm... Hufflepuff... Yes, I can see it. You would do well in the Helga's House, but you could be something great in Gryffindor too, you know." She felt him shift a little on her head as he poured over her memories, carefully and silently, in a way that wouldn't have gone noticed by anyone else. "Devil's Snare in Hogwarts, young lady? Lucky you are, I can't tell the headmaster about this. Not that I would, mind you. But its bold and daring to sneak such a cutting into Hogwarts of all things. That drive and determination would make you fit right in the Lion's Den."

"But I don't want Gryffindor." Mikaela rejected politely. "I want to be want to be the Badger that fights, not the Lion that roars."

"Hmm..." The Hat deliberated, and shuffled through her memories some more, until he apprently found the ones he wanted. She thinks she knows which ones too, where Tom told his story about the rude Lady Smith and their Father's words when Tom had brought it up months later. When Papa pulled her to the side and told her of the struggles that Firstbloods went though because of prejudice and fear, and the fury she felt afterwards that made her leave to the greenhouses to vent her frustrations the sympathetic ears of her beloved plants. "I see. Daring, but not Prideful. Bold, but not for Glory. You hold kindness in your heart, but it is Loyalty to the ones you love that drives you to help others. And it will be Loyalty that makes you shake the foundations of this world. Very well, things have been getting rather stale in that house anyway. Better be-"

"HUFFLEPUFF."

The Trio clapped along with everyone else, as they watched Mikaela hop off the stool and head towards her House Table with a blinding grin. "That poor, poor house." Abraxas lamented, keeping his smile perfectly as the Hufflepuffs swarmed to greet their newest member. "They have no idea what they've just let in through the front door."

"They're not prepared at all." Tom agreed, waving back when his sister caught his eye and flailed her arm to grab his attention. Acanthus glanced at them both, worried. "She's not that bad... is she?"

"Worse." They replied in unison, and dropped it once the applause had settled and Dumbledore pulled up the list again.

"Tom Frosland-Riddle!"

Unlike Mikaela, Tom was far more calm as he stepped out from the amalgamation of First Years, walking at a reasonable pace until he sat down on the stool and the Hat was placed on his head.

"Hoh! Well now, I never thought I'd get the chance to sort one of Slytherins descent so soon." The Sorting Hat started sifting through his memories and thoughts, apologizing quietly when Tom frowned in discomfort. "Hmm.. Such eagerness to belong, to fit in, and with such fierce loyalty to your friends and faimly would have made you an easy fit in Hufflepuff, once upon a time, but you lived a hard life in your young age. Your father did well to get you out of there quickly, but it's left its mark. You know what it's like to struggle, to have to use whatever resources you have to reach the top so you don't drown. You would find an easy life in Hufflepuff, but that ambition of your would sooner burn that whole House down before it could satisfy your desires."

"I would have." The boy agreed, "But you put Mikaela in there."

A pause. "...Fair enough. But its been so boring there lately. Not enough 'Puff's have that spirit your sister wields anymore, even if they have the pride."

There was more shifting, but Tom merely waited. At this point, the Hat was just getting some social points while he could. Both of them already knew what the end result would be.

"Ravenclaw could have been good too, at one point. Enough knowledge stuffed in here that Rowena would be readying her claws to snatch you up herself, if she could. You crave knowledge, but you crave it for the sake of using it to further your own ends and get what you want. The Ravens Tower would only confine your potential, you would never flourish under her wise and gentle wings. Yes, you are right, we both know the answer. I would be a fool if I didn't put you in-"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Tom smiled as he took off the hat and carefully handed it to the Professor. Though the applause was more polite than it had been for Mikaela, even though she was clapping furiously as he walked to his table, Tom expected that. His father had warned him about the prejudice surrounding Slytherin, and Lord Malfoy had admitted that their stubborn attitude was partly to blame for it.

But thats why he was here, to do more than simply learn. He was going to rebuild this House of Snakes, from the inside, from the ground up, until everyone remembered that ambition could be more than just power and greed. That cunning could be more than just cowardice and bribery. It would not be an easy path, no, but the Frosland Heir steeled his mind and marched on nonetheless.

He would go in to a Snakes Den, with a Leopards Heart.