[ . . . that's moving. That's actually moving piece of this food called chocolate that he's certain should not be moving quite like this. Unless it's made of these frogs of chocolate, but Hermione said it's the other way around. And so Legolas can only stare, baffled and bemused. He cocks his head, his frown of puzzlement quite... out of place, perhaps, given the circumstance.

Then he blinks rapidly, remembering she was saying something. ]

Perhaps so, he has always been very warm, very playful. [ Exactly where Legolas takes his own playfulness from. His father was his best teacher. ] The brave elflings that would ever approach him, I am certain would have the time of their lives. Their parents, perhaps, not so much.

[ Yet it's all assumption, since besides himself, Legolas had not seen his father around young ones as not many - if any at all - were born in Mirkwood all his life.

That said, his voice carries that thread of confusion in it all throughout, while his eyes flicker from the frog to the card and back. It's moving!!

Omnomnom, chocolate. ]

Is this a wizard from your... house? What ... do you mean by house?

[ ... and he looks like he has so many more questions about Hermione and where she comes from if his glance to her is anything to go by. A pleading look of a sort, please explain. ]