Snow was falling in Hogsmeade as Tapendra made his way down the central street, large winter cloak pulled tightly around his shoulders. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d walked this particular route, though it was certainly the first time he’d done so in the snow. The swiftly changing nature of the relationship he had with O’Morain still perplexed him a bit, but somehow they got on fine provided Tapendra steered clear of certain topics – which was easy enough. It was rather like talking to Morgan, really.

Only involving more dirty diapers and crying babies, which – despite how much he liked children – he hoped never factored into the strange colleague relationship he had with Morgan. Ever.

It hadn’t always been this way, either; less than a year ago he and O’Morain had been rather passive-aggressively sniping at each other in the staff room over Tapendra’s admittedly unprofessional choice in attire and O’Morain’s decision to close off the staff room without informing the other staff. It seemed such a silly thing to be snippy about, in retrospect. But they hadn’t gotten along, and when the man had left Hogwarts that had seemed unlikely to change.

And then the baby happened. Amazing, what showing a man how to properly communicate with a baby could do. Since that one encounter in the coffee shop Tapendra and Declan had talked off and on…and Declan had appeared on his doorstep more than once over the summer, holding Ignatius and looking politely hopeless.

The cottage the man had purchased for himself in Hogsmeade was nice enough, and Tapendra had already visited it once or twice. It was odd to think of the man returning to Hogwarts, but at least he wouldn’t be terribly far from home, should an issue with Iggy arise.

He stepped onto the porch, kicking the snow off his boots before he knocked on the door. As he waited, he took a moment and shook the snow off his cloak, too.

It had been a very long week. Declan's son had not adjusted as well to his father's new change in schedule. Of course, Declan couldn't blame the boy. He'd had him full time for less than a year. Getting taken away from everyone he knew and loved to be given to a man who was a total stranger had to have been difficult to adjust to. Declan had found it equally difficult to adjust. Though he was thrilled to finally be given the chance at being a father, it was not as easy as he had expected it to be. Granted, things had gotten easier over the last six months- but they were still not perfect.

The sudden custodial responsibility had driven Declan into seeking aid and advice from one of the few people he knew who had experience with children- Tapendra Trishna. His opinion of the man had drastically changed due to their interactions in reference to little Ignatius. Tapendra had been a life saver, and without his aid Declan was sure he'd have been driven to an early grave. Children were complicated and fickle.

His calling upon Tapendra unannounced had dwindled after a couple of months, and since he'd hired the full-time nanny had ceased completely. This weekend the elderly witch was visiting her own children, leaving Declan tending to Ignatius on his own. His son was four years old now. He talked a lot- far more than Declan thought was appropriate or necessary, but he had been struggling to give his son more freedom and more loving and caring upbringing than his own had been. Which meant tolerating his chatter and that damned imagination of his. Declan had, on multiple occasions now, made Ignatius cry by refusing to believe or lend credence to his outlandish stories.

Declan had invited Tapendra over to visit for the afternoon. When he heard the knock at his cottage door, he had to run to catch up with the quick feet of his toddling son. Declan scooped the boy up by the waist just before he managed to get to the door. He let his son peer out the peep hole before setting him back down on his feet and pulling open the door. "Tapendra!" he greeted with a tired smile. Declan looked a little less put together than he usually did... But chasing a four year old day could do that to a man. Immediately Ignatius hid behind his father's legs, peering out at the tall figure standing in the doorway. "Glad you could make it. Please, come in." He stepped out of the way, holding the door open.

Then he looked down at his son with a stern look. "Greet our guest, Ignatius. Be polite." The little boy shook his head and buried his face into the fabric of his father's pants and whined. Declan bent over and picked him up. "You remember Mr. Trishna, don't you Ignatius?" The boy finally offered a shy, half-hearted wave before demanding to be put down. After Declan relented, the little boy raced back through the cottage- away from the grown men. Declan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed quietly before leading Tapendra to his living room. He gathered up Iggy's toy's from one corner of the couch, dumping them unceremoniously into the floor before siting down. "I apologize for the mess... It's no use cleaning it up. I've learned that much, at least."

Tapendra stepped into the cottage, ducking habitually through the doorway. The interior was nice, that was certain – it was no grand pureblood palace, as he was quietly sure Declan had grown up in, but it was open, homely and above all a warm sort of place. Not stylish, no, but a good place to grow up in.

“Good day, Declan,” Tapendra said, with a nod. He restrained a sympathetic smile at Declan’s tired expression – he knew that look well enough. Iggy was able to walk and talk quite well now, but not past the age of putting poisonous or sharp things in his mouth – a wonderfully stressful time indeed, though thankfully the terrors of the twos and threes were past. Mostly.

Unfortunately, a man as talented with potions as Declan had plenty of things in his house that could do the boy considerable harm. It was probably going to be a long, long few years for the man – at least he had a nanny to keep an eye on the boy.

He hung his cloak on the nearby coat rack, looking down at Iggy with a soft smile. The boy looked upset, something he really wished would improve – and it did seem to be, slowly.

“Hallo, Iggy,” he said, gently, as the boy watched him. He didn’t show much reaction when the boy darted away – just looked up at Declan, waiting until the boy was away to comment. When Iggy seemed largely out of earshot, he shook his head.

“Is he showing signs of settling in at all?” He asked Declan, frowning in concern. The boy certainly seemed to be crying less, but he still seemed generally uncomfortable. The massive changes in the young boy’s life didn’t help there, he was sure.

"He is. Slowly but surely. He asks after his mother far less now than he did. It's difficult for him to grasp that he likely won't see her again, and I don't think now is the appropriate time to tell him that. He's too young to really understand. I suppose that is something which will come with time, though." His brows furrowed in agitation. He remembered how it felt to be given away by your parents. Though he'd been old enough to know what was going on, it had not lessened the pain any of being unwanted. Declan was determined he would do nothing to ever make his son feel that pain again. Whatever Ignatius chose to do in his life, Declan would support him as best he knew how. Even if the boy ended up a squib and decided to live amongst the muggles.

"He has recently started calling me da, though!" Declan announced with a triumphant smile. For the longest time Iggy had only called him mister or sir. But the more time and effort Declan put into building his relationship wth the boy, the better it seemed to be getting. "And he calls the nanny nan." Which was fine by Declan. The elderly lady seemed to like it, and he wasn't about to try to explain to the boy that the nanny was not a grandmother. Whatever helped him most, he'd go with. "She is quite the amazing old bird. But she takes weekends off to spend with her own family. It also gives me some time to spend with Iggy one on one. I try to take him out with me on the weekends, to get him used to people and being in public." He had no doubt the boy's mother had kept him locked away out of shame. "He is very shy, still. But not quite as bad as he once was. Much less fussy."

"He's mostly toilet trained, now," he said to Tapendra. "That was a task in and of itself. But he rather likes using the toilet like a big boy." Declan made sure to give Ignatius lots of praise whenever he went without having any accidents.

Declan looked up as his son came flying through the room on a toy broomstick, his feet dangling a couple of inches from the ground. It was Ignatius' new favorite toy. Declan watched the boy fly a circle around the two of them on the couch, laughing, before flying off into another room. "The hours of Hogwarts work better for caring for him. And spending all of the extra time at home on weekends and after classes seems to be helping quite a bit. It's not even been a week and I can already see the difference... Of course, it could be coincidental. Whatever the reason, I am thankful for it."

"Would you like some tea or coffee?" Declan asked, suddenly remembering his manners. He'd much prefer a coffee with some Irish whiskey in it, or a cold beer- but drinking and childcare did not mix. "Coffee has become my best friend in helping me to keep up with him when he's in a mood. I am trying to teach him to read and write, but he shows little interest in it. I suppose I'm just not making it fun enough to engage him for long enough to learn any of it."

“That’s good,” Tapendra said with a nod, having privately worried the boy wouldn’t. “He certainly seems perkier, at any rate.” When he’d met the child this last summer, he’d just looked worried all the time – or sad, or angry. Rarely had his expression been neutral or shy ones he’d just shown.

“May be best to let him start that conversation, really – he’ll ask when he’s ready, I hope. There’s really not good way to tell him, unfortunately,” Tapendra said, shaking his head slightly. In his own case, he’d just been left behind, no longer of consequence. It helped him a bit that she’d at least waited until he was almost a legal adult and therefore he hadn’t wound up in an orphanage, but it hadn’t helped. It was different than plain, open rejection though.

He echoed Declan’s smile when the man announced Iggy’s progress – all but beaming, and having to remind himself that a slap on the back probably wasn’t the best choice as far as Declan was concerned. And not just because he had a real risk of accidently shoving the shorter man over.

“That’s wonderful!” He said. “Have you looked into play groups, yet? They’re a great way for them to socialize with kids their own age-“

He cut off as Iggy flew into the room – literally – and laughed softly as the little boy flew in a circle around them and then shot off into the one of the adjacent rooms. That was a toy he was glad neither Georgiana nor Cy had really realized they’d been missing at kids; he’d always wanted one himself as a child, but such luxuries weren’t spent on him.
“If he’s at that stage than most of those troubles are finally past, though it does take a bit until you’re really out of it entirely,” he said, sitting on the couch and crossing his legs at the knee, his trousers naturally riding up to mid-calf as he did so.

“Coffee would be lovely, if you can make it not black – milk and sugar and so on,” he said with a smile, the sort of person who preferred as little coffee in their ‘coffee’ drinks as possible.

“Has he shown any particular interest in hobbies and such, yet? Now that you’ve the real ability to talk to him about those, I mean.”

"I guess it is also luck that he's so young," Declan said. "When he gets older, he probably won't remember very much about her. I know from experience that would probably be easier. I know first hand how it feels when your parents don't want you. Being fifteen and kicked out of the house is not a comforting feeling." His aunt had become like a second mother, loving him as best she knew how, but it wasn't the same. Especially when he saw his parents out in public afterward and they refused to speak to him. Even now, fifteen years later, his sister hadn't spoken to him since he'd been disowned and disinherited. "It's strange, really, how it puts things into perspective," Declan continued on. "I was raised in a purist household, and for the longest time never questioned their beliefs. Even after being kicked out, I always thought about how I would redeem myself. Even recently... But once Iggy came to live with me full time, I realize how ridiculous so much of what I was taught truly is."

"I never want to make my son feel inferior, and I do not want him to grow up to be like me. My... stiff personality has not won me many friends, Tapendra. My life has been a particularly lonely one, and I know that is due to my own behavior. I want Ignatius to be respectful, well behaved, and to understand the traditions of this world and to appreciate where he has come from. But I do not want him to be how I was a child. I want him to have friends, to enjoy life, to get the chance to get grass stains on his knees without getting into trouble for it. I just don't always know how to go about raising him in that way, because I wasn't raised that way. I have no basis of comparison, and unfortunately books only help so much," he waved his hand at the book shelf- there were more than a few parenting manuals.

Declan got up to make some coffee when Tapendra agreed to it. Milk and sugar he had. He put on the water and then returned to his seat. "I've looked into it," he said, answering Tapendra's earlier question. "I've taken him to a couple of play dates on the weekends, but he doesn't do very well with other children. He seems disinterested in them, always plays by himself when we go. I don't think he'd ever met another child until then. Now that he's a bit older, and talks better, I'm going to try again. He's more settled now, so that might help. It baffles me how much better he speaks after just a few months. It often makes me wonder whether or not his mother ever went out of her way to talk to him..."

"He seems to like art," Declan said. "And his broom. He likes listening to quidditch games on the wireless.  I got him an art kit for children, and he is always drawing or painting. I can't say that he's particularly gifted- but he is only four. I was thinking I might find him an art tutor when he's a bit older... Old enough to understand and listen to a teacher, I mean. I've thought about seeing if he'd be interested in music, too. Artistic things go hand in hand. He likes books. He reads very well for his age. And he likes to be read to. Ironically the same sort of things that I was interested in as a child. I want to give him every opportunity to pursue the things he enjoys that I am capable of giving him. I worry I'm going to overcompensate for the disinterest in my childhood by being over attentive to Iggy. I don't want him to be spoiled, but it's hard to resist when he pouts. He learned how to play me rather quickly. Cunning little bugger."

As someone who’d thrown many a parenting manual against the wall as Georgiana and Cyhirae did things he didn’t understand, Tapendra could only nod in a sort of supportive agreement. He’d been aware of Declan’s story, knew that the man had made a terrible mistake when he was younger. He remembered it from his last year school, especially via the reports of Judy and his other friends in Slytherin. The man had been some years behind him in school, but incidents like that one got around quickly, especially when they were as humiliating as the one Declan had faced.
Still, he added silently in his head that Declan wasn’t missing much. He’d met the man’s remaining family and he was better off this way.

He spoke when Declan sat back down, Tapendra having let himself go from sitting politely to a much more casual lounging posture as he considered. “It can be difficult to get the right perspective,” he agreed, looking at Declan as he considered his words. “I know with me, it was – I didn’t want to raise my sister or daughter in the Wizarding World.”

He smiled slightly, the expression a bit of a smirk. “Rather the opposite feeling to the one you had, I suppose. But I didn’t give them much exposure to it and...well, it’s made Hogwarts more difficult for them than I realized it would. I’d go back and redo it, if I could.” But he certainly had no intention of returning to the Wizarding world, that was for sure.

“Our parents leave a stamp on us even if we try to make sure they don’t,” he said, raising his eyebrows slightly at Declan. “I think if you’re aware of it, that’s a step in the right direction. Raising children is unfortunately one of those things you can’t really be taught.”

You either had it or you didn’t, as far as Tapendra was concerned.

He shook his head at Declan’s account, the smile that twitched his lips a sad one more than anything. “Sometimes all it takes is someone taking an interest, really,” he said, as a child who hadn’t really had anyone do that – up until rather the wrong person had taken interest. “I would take him back, though. If he finds the group setting stressful, you might try smaller meetings? Or group activities, where he can be engaged but not overly socal.” Some of the daycares he’d left the girls at when he was studying at Cambridge had seemed rather more like dogparks than…well, than play groups. He wondered if that was the case in the Wizarding world, too.

He laughed, shaking his head at Declan. “Be glad he’s a boy – he’ll eventually get to an age where he won’t use the pout because it’s unbecoming for men to do that. Girls…well, my daughter still does it.” And it worked. He rather spoiled both of his girls, or at least tried to as best his low budget was able. “But given how sheltered and, well…disinterested everyone’s been in him until now, I don’t think lots of interest would be a bad thing, persay. And since you work during the week, he’s not – hopefully you’re not over stimulating him.”