Both of them had been teetering on the edge of displaying more emotion, but trying to look stoic, and both of them broke at more or less the same time. For Billie, that manifested in tears. For Gideon, it was that he could no longer let his reservations about how his daughter might receive a physical embrace prevent him from trying to comfort her. He moved closer to her and knelt on one knee, then used his arms to pull her in so that her head was up against his chest and his shirt could absorb some of her dirty tears.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," he said soothingly. "It's a lot to think about and deal with. We don't have to have it all figured out right away," he assured her. "And if we change our minds about some things later, that's okay, too. And if you want to play Quidditch and catch nifflers, you can certainly do that," he continued. He wanted to ensure that she didn't feel as though introducing herself as Miss Farrow instead of Mister meant that every other aspect of her identity had to change. That being said, he was also aware that some of those things probably would change as she grew older, because people changed when they turned from children to adults. She might want to get married or have children someday — or she might find herself drawn to some less traditional but still decidedly feminine path, like a career as a mediwitch or a seamstress, and if that happened he didn't want her to think that she had somehow betrayed her younger self or failed in some way. Essentially, he wanted to convey that no matter what happened, it was okay. She would still be Billie no matter what, and he wouldn't feel any differently about her. It was one thing to say that, however, and another for her to really believe it.

"And you can go on as many adventures as you like, so long as you promise to come back home safe and sound when they're through," he teased gently.