Adoption and arranged Playdate

Quentin looked at the pair, waiting eagerly for the rest of their words.

"....are going to be your new parents!" they finished together, using a baby voice.

The government agents left the room silently, feeling as this was not a moment to intrude, giving them a moment.

Black lines appeared on Quentin's forehead. His last few years without proper relationship had left him alone with his 20 year old mind and thoughts, making him forget easily how old this body was.

And also, how adorable and innocent his current face looked like. Long black straight hair (with some white hairs hidden under the surface.) that slightly draped over his right eye, and big, wide brown eyes, and the two deep dimples that appeared on his face when he smiled ( Which unfortunately, rarely happened.) and a pair of slightly sharp teeth, giving his small face a hint of mischievousness, and he had healthy tan skin.

Sadly, the experimentations and mutations had left him with some darkened skin around his eyes and fingers, white streaks under the surface of his black hair, and his nails had a slight point to them, all of these traits giving him a slightly malnourished look.

His look was similar to his past world's young self. But looked better, and noticeably less sickly and depressed.

Anyways, the elderly pair probably only wanted to make a good impression of themselves to what they thought was a innocent and ignorant child who didn't have a sense of security.

But what he felt they were trying to do was imprint their image as his future parents, not unlike how people try to do to baby ducks when they hatch, trying to trick them that they are the mother.

He looked at them and felt as if they were trying to hoodwink him. Time for payback.

"No. I already have a mommy!" he said, making his immature face as serious as he could manage.

Their faces froze, as they were expected a obedient and silent child, and his small and innocent face making an mature expression would have made a funny moment if the atmosphere wasn't so awkward between the adults, as they couldn't bring themselves to correct the small child.

"Just kidding! I don't know who my mommy is!" Quentin said right after a time, as the previously awkward atmosphere became a sober one, as they looked at him with his now expressionless face with poorly covered pity.

The elderly couple looked slightly ashamed, and Quentin felt like the fun was over.

"So am I going to a new home with you?" Quentin said.

"Y-yes, William. Aren't you excited?" the old man said kindly, his eyes tearing up slightly.

"Yep! Is there a lot of yummy food? And is there toys?" Quentin said, trying to stay in character with a child with a mentality of five years old.

The elderly woman looked away as tears ran down her face, looking at Quentin, and when she looked at him again, the pity in her eyes bare and undisguised.

"But my name is Quentin Black, not William!" Quentin said, as he couldn't help but correct them about his name, as he had been named by the person who brought (Apparently on the spot, as it seemed they didn't have the decency to give him a false last name. ) him to the orphanage, and he never did find out the name of the original baby, so he retained his original name and took the last name of the original owner of the body.

The couple was taken aback, but the shock seemed to ebb away for some reason.

Probably because the caretakers were used to his strange behavior and wrote it down in his report for people who were considering adopting him.

At first they tried to tell him and convince him that his name was just William, although they gave up soon after they noticed how adamant he was that his name was Quentin Black.

Soon after, he walked out the orphanage holding the hands of the elderly couple who were revealed to be named to be the Bakers, a pair of elders who had been the friends with the person who was in control of the foster home Quentin was in and despite the fact that elders usually couldn't adopt children due to the fact that they had although elders had some relatively low chances that accidents could happen, the chance was still there, but because they were the friends of the person in control, some strings were pulled and a exception was made.

Quentin let go of their hands as he began to load his very light suitcase into the abnormally large trunk and sat down in the car.

As he sat down into the car, a '1985 Ford Escort' that was popular in this era with the Bakers, as they drove to their destination, he felt that this neighborhood seemed familiar. Definitely not the iconic 'Privet Road', but had a sense familiarity.

"We have arranged a playdate for you, um, Quentin, with the neighbor's child!" Mr. Baker said with a bit of awkwardness and forced cheerfulness.

"Okay! Will there be toys to play with? Who will I be playing with? Will there be snacks?" Quentin fired three questions rapidly and looked at Mr. Baker with what he hoped looked like childlike innocence and expectance.

"Of course there will be snacks and toys! But I can't tell you who your playmate will be! It's a surprise!" Mrs. Baker said, her cheerfulness much more genuine-sounding.

"Okay! When do I get to play with the neighbor?" asked Quentin, although his main focus was on getting more AP and such.

"As soon as tomorrow! We want you to have fun in your new home and relax!"

"Mhm! Thank you!" Quentin said as a bright smile danced on his lips. Coupled with his dimples and immature voice trying to be mature, the Bakers relaxed and laughed a bit.

Soon they slowly came to a stop at a large brick house. As Quentin began to get his stuff out the trunk, he heard a small buzzing sound a yellow flash.

Quentin stood still, as his brain connected the dots. Yellow and buzzing= Bee. He hoped that the bee would just leave if he stood still. He slowly turned around and looked around. No bee. Phew.

He lifted his suitcase and walked to the door of the brick house and opened the door. He was immediately stunned by what he saw. There was a loud thud as his suitcase fell from his hands. There were books everywhere, of all shapes and sizes, and some were open and some were laying on the side on the floor.

Quentin immediately began to pick them up. He looked at the spines, hoping to see any titles, but it seemed that none of these books were labelled.

Although he didn't have to pick them up, in his last life, he had learned to respect books in his last life because in college, or any school for that matter, in this life or the last, books were what helped him get good grades and they had valuable knowledge, and it was a habit to keep his books in pristine condition.

But when he tried to pick one up, the book shook a little and suddenly there was a small bloody bite mark on his index finger, and it stung.

'What was that?' He thought to himself as he looked through the last books on the ground and marked the ones that looked alike to the weird book just now and left those there to pick up later. He then went to pick up the rest of the books.

But he overestimated his small body's energy and strength as he swiped the sweat off his small brow and and tried to figure out a way to pick up the kind of books that hurt him.

Were these magic books? Would touching the spine help calm them down? But what if someone was watching? I don't think a normal muggle orphan would know about a method to deal with a wizard's magic book.

What he did in the end was open his fallen suitcase and take out one of the spare shirts given to him for his last birthday in the foster home. And wrapped it around a hand and rushed to pick up a magic book.

The book shook again, but this time, only the shirt was slightly torn, and soon, all the magic biting books were placed on the shelves, which he arranged by designs on the covers, hoping that he arranged them in the right way. He seemed to be in a daze as he looked at the torn shirt in his hands.

He looked for the Bakers and asked them directions to his room, and found it and immediately collapsed on the soft bed, a sensation which he had not felt for and entire 5 years and feel asleep almost instantly. But a split second he fell asleep, he heard a notification.

Congratulations! Host has gained 2500 AP from Julius Baker!

Congratulations! Host has gained 2500 AP from Amelia Baker!

System detects false nam---

Just as a important piece of info was about to be told, Quentin fell asleep.

(Be sure to review the book!)