He scooped Anya close to his chest and let her pull on one of his ears. It was remarkable what he put up with from little girls at the best of times - now he just wasn't up to even pretending to mind. If he noticed the uneasiness falling over Ophelia, he didn't say anything about it.
He arched his brow, watching the way her posture changed. In that moment it reminded him strangely of his very stern mother - he pushed that thought as far down as possible. Speaking to his parents now was out of the question with what had happened with Amery, his father always seemed to know when something was up, so there was nothing for it.
"I am sure that if the only reason you wished to adopt him was because you're fond of him, you would have done it when you were still living in this house," he remarked after a moment, shaking his head and looking down to Anya again. He really did feel very little attachment to that other child, but Anya was ... special. His special little girl.
"And you have not been too forceful, but I have still not decided." He couldn't help letting his eyes flit over to Ophelia's face. Even with the stern tilt to her mouth, she was looking well. That was good, at least. "It is not something I had considered as a possibility." He'd just assumed that eventually the boy would grow up and go to Durmstrang or Hogwarts, and he'd not have to deal with him any longer.
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