Hornwak grinned and hopped down from his chair at those words.

"Come with me then, Mr Ailill, Mr Riddle. These tests are done in separate rooms for privacy reasons."

The two boys trailed after the short goblin, anticipating but excited to find out their history. Tom was sure of his magical heritage, positive that he in some form came from a magical bloodline. Ailill on the other hand was unsure about his bloodline, he knows he is from a different timeline and wondered if this should affect him in this process. His mind was put to a halt as the three made their way into a room with a desk and two chairs. The desk looked expensive and made with thick dark wood. On the table was a tray with a knife and bowl next to some paper.

"You two will do this separately, of course, and will make an incision to draw blood, three drops, have it fall on the parchment, this will allow us to trace your bloodline. All information is confidential, no one outside this room will know, should you wish for anyone here present other than myself to leave you may ask them to do so."

Both boys turned to one another with questioning eyes, after a moment they turned to the goblin and spoke in sync,

"We are okay, thank you."

The action vaguely unnerved the goblin but he brushed it aside. He picked up the dagger and held it out to Tom,

"You first, Mr Riddle."

Tom took the knife with no hesitation and cut his palm just wide enough for blood to well up. He hovered his hand over the parchment and let the red liquid fall. One, two, three the little droplets splashed on the white, little rivulets expanding out in a mesmerising series of lines and little bulbs displaying names. This little diagram took up half the page, at the bottom black lines formed words.

Tom Marvolo Riddle

Status: half-blood

Mother: Merope Gaunt (pure-blood) (dead)

Father: Tom Riddle Sr (muggle) (alive)

Paternal Grandfather: Thomas Riddle (muggle) (alive)

Paternal grandmother: Mary Riddle (muggle) (alive)

Maternal grandfather: Marvolo Gaunt (pure-blood) (dead)

Maternal grandmother: Emeline Gaunt (pure-blood) (dead)

Maternal uncle: Morfin Gaunt (pure-blood) (alive)

Heir to:

Slytherin Bloodline

Vault 112, 125, 36 (inaccessible until majority)

Slytherin estate (accessible with emancipation)

Slytherin Locket

Slytherin Heir and Lordship ring

Gaunt Bloodline

Vault 541, 632 (inaccessible until majority/ remaining bloodline has died)

Gaunt Estate (inaccessible until majority/ remaining bloodline has died)

Gaunt Lord Ring

Gaunt Heir Ring

Cadmus Peverell Bloodline

Vault 022, 065

Right to resurrection stone

Very distant, may not be recognised!

Tom spent many minutes going over the information he had just received, he did not mind the unsubtle Ailill peeking over his shoulder but he was annoyed that he had family and they had never claimed him. He mulled over the idea that it's quite possible that they didn't know of him or maybe they did not care for him. In another time maybe this would have driven him to furious lengths but here with Ailill by his side he did not care, the only one he needed was the whiskey-eyed boy who made his heart do things he did not wish to ever stop. He needed no blood family when he made his own.

After cleaning the blade Hornwak handed it to Ailill, indicating for the other boy to go. Tom brought himself out of his musing to watch him complete the same ritual he just did. Doing the same actions, Ailill performed the ritual and watched as his blood made out his ancestry on paper, only his was much, much smaller.

Ailill Peverell

Status: Pure-blood

Mother: unknown (error)

Father: Antioch Peverell (pure-blood) (dead)

Maternal grandmother: unknown (error)

Maternal grandfather: unknown (error)

Paternal grandmother: unknown (error)

Paternal grandfather: unknown (error)

Heir to:

Antioch Peverell Bloodline

Vaults 011, 321, 145

ALL OTHER BLOODLINES LINKED TO PEVERELL LINE VOID

Right to Elder wand, blood sacrifice needed to summon

Rights to Peverell Manor, Peverell Villa, Vitna Cottage

Rights to both Peverell Lordship and Heir ring

Elder wand:

Current possessor: Gellert Grindelwald

Rightful possessor: Ailill Peverell

"Look, Tom, according to this, I shouldn't exist!" Ailill sounded far too amused for Tom's liking but he wasn't wrong, by all facts of nature Ailill has no way to exist with only a father to speak of.

"I…" Hornwak trailed off. "This is quite unusual, and to be honest I have no idea how you exist because you shouldn't." The goblin's voice was blunt and full of blatant disbelief. "May I get my superior to look at this?"

"Oh please do," Ailill said joyfully. "I'd love to hear what they've got to say on this"

With permission given Hornwak hurried out of the room off to the head goblin. Tom and Ailill sat quietly in the room until Tom spoke up,

"Does this mean we're cousins?" The boy's youthful faces scrunched up in disappointment. "Cause we're both Peverells."

"Hm," Ailill cracked his knuckles. "I don't think so, it says I'm a direct line while you're so far out that it might not recognise you. I'd say at best we're extremely far out related. Why hate being related to me that much?"

The words were joking but real hurt hid behind them, Tom could hear it and curse at himself for being foolish, idiot! You hurt his feelings now.

"It's not that, I just think we're better off being something less familial," Tom said.

"Oh," Ailill muttered, sadly.

"...like husbands."

"Wait- what?!"

Before Ailill could force answers out of Tom, what did he mean husbands?! Two goblins entered the room once more, Hornwak and another but older-looking goblin. Just like before Ailill dipped his head and Tom followed suit. The unknown goblin eyed them curiously but did not comment. Hornwak handed the other goblin Ailill's results after getting it from the boy, he looked over it, black beady eyes widening the more he read. The goblin raised his eyes to meet the entertained ones of Ailill who found the whole situation hilarious.

"I do not know what to say," the goblin rasped. "This has never happened before."

"Well, I'm just that unpredictable." Ailill gloated receiving a smack from Tom.

"By all means" The goblin gestured. "You hold claim to anything on this sheet, how is just a mystery. We can not however deny you your blood rights."

"I see," Ailill nodded. "Thank you very much, Mr…?"

"Zylok"

"Thank you Mr Hornwak and Mr Zylok. About this'' Whiskey eyes squinted. "Elder wand? Yes, Elder wand, it says I can summon it? I'd rather like that, can we make it happen?"

"Of course, Mr Peverell," Zylok said. "Hornwak set up the summoning. We will do it momentarily."

"Hmm."

Tom and Ailill watched the two goblins work in unison. They set out paper, a different knife, and open a window.

"Please Mr Peverell, if you would offer up some blood. You will need a substantial amount more, but nothing too concerning."

"If you say so, Mr Zylok."

Ailill used the cut from earlier only making it wider and longer. In streams, the crimson liquid poured out and the two goblins started to murmur a chant causing the blood to form a circle with symbols inside. Once the circle was complete it glowed a fiery red and hummed with energy.

"You may stop the bleeding now, Mr Peverell."

The smaller creature watched in wonder as Ailill barely glanced at the cut and it started to heal itself up, the heavy magic sitting in the air helping it.

"Do we wait now?" Tom asked.

"Yes," Hornwak nodded. "It's been summoned and will come, we just don't know how long it will take."

The boy looked satisfied, "I've been meaning to ask but are you able to change your last name?"

"If it is to something you are either the heir of or have been given explicit permission, then yes."

"I see, thank you." Tom sat back with a contemplative look.

"Thinking of changing your name, Cletus?"

Tom's face twisted in displeasure, "I've told you to never use such a name again, and to answer your question, yes. My last name at least."

"Any thoughts on what?"

"Maybe Slytherin? And I want to be rid of Tom at least to other people, you may call me Tom just because I said so. Marvolo was my middle name, so Marvolo Slytherin? It sounds noble."

"It does," Ailill agreed. "I'm sure we can find books later on about pureblood families. We can see then and if you want to still change it, we can return to Gringotts once more."

"Okay, we can look later then."

Tom started to ramble about other books he wished to get, it was endearing seeing the blue eyes alight with feverish excitement. Ailill propped his chin up in his hand watching the boy just as he heard a faint high-pitched whistle. His eyes looked around until they stopped on the open window, in the distance a black object was heading at very high speeds right towards him. Without missing a beat Ailill lifted a hand and caught the fast-moving object without breaking eye contact with Tom. He moved his eyes and stared at the thin stick or wand he supposes. While he did this he missed the flush that ran along Tom's nose and down his neck, eyes dazed and hands trembled.

The wand was long and made of dark wood with little bulbs appearing every few inches. Two notches in a small inscription was on the wood, Ailill does not know what it means but the wand radiated power, the kind he felt within himself. Tom stared at the wand, he thought he would feel jealousy at Ailill for getting it but all he could grasp was utter pride as he looked at the other boy. The magic that emitted from the wand felt like hugging Ailill to Tom, it was cold and heavy but cooled his overly warm nature. The two fit well together.

Ailill twirled it between his fingers, testing its weight. He thought it was nice enough, light and flexible being about fifteen inches in length. He quite liked the plain design, felt the minimalist appearance suited him well.

"I thank you, Mr Zylok and Mr Hornwak. Today has been truly informative." Ailill said standing up. "We will be back in a few days' time after thinking about everything that has transpired here. One thing for certain however is, would you take over my request to get the Vitna Cottage up and running taking on a more soft look? I would like it to be habitable soon if so possible. Necessary funds may be drawn from my accounts provided I have wealth there, I will check the finances the next day and talk about investments with you."

"Of course, Mr Peverell." the two bowed. "We will get right on that and hope to see you soon."

Tom and Ailill bowed back. "As do we."

Tom and Ailill left the bank with fuller pockets with coins and fuller heads with questions. They made their way to a shop called 'Stitches and Seams' . Both boys agreed it would be best if they were to get clothes to fit in amongst the crowd. They entered the shop quickly, eager to be out of the public's eye. Inside it was rather bland, with plain walls and little decor. Manikins lined the walls and tape measures hovered mid-air. It was bustling inside, not too crowded but decently busy. Two women and a man were walking around in uniforms, black clothing with gold embellishments of 'S&S'.

Once spotted the workers ushered the two boys in and with one look at them declared that 2 sets of Hogwarts robes be made up. Tom was dragged off by one woman, his eyes pleading for Ailill to save him but only got a slow goofy wave as he was towed around like a dog. Ailill was nabbed up by the man who directed him towards a raised platform next to another boy who looked to be close to his age. He was pretty in an old blood way, thick black hair that fell in front of abyss blue eyes and high cheekbones complementing his features. His brows were arched attractively and his jaw held the makings of a handsome young man. He was without a doubt a pretentious fuck. At the movement of someone being placed next to him, the boy turned to Ailill, taking one look at his clothes he sneered so hard the whiskey-eyed boy thought he was going to pop an eye. He did nothing but raise an eyebrow at the action, extending his arms as requested of the seamstress.

"Filthy muggleborns, disgusting mudbloods!"

From the tone, Ailill could tell it was some form of a slur. It was said with venom only a child can produce after hearing it every day since its cognitive function developed. Ailill ignored the boy keeping his attention on the worker even as they themselves started to grow uncomfortable.

"Just a Hogwarts' set today, yes?"

"That and a few varieties of casual robes. Nothing restricting, I'm a rather active person."

"As you wish, sir." the worker's mouth tilted up, charmed.

"Don't ignore me you mudblood!" ah pretty boy again.

"I'm sorry," Ailill simpered mockingly. "Are you of relevance to me? No, therefore I need not waste time on you."

Whiskey irises collided with stormy blue, the deep-set unhinged nature within the child's eyes intrigued Ailill. Was it genetics? Product of environment? Just straight-up a foul hand of cards in life? He doesn't know.

His comment sparked outrage within the boy,

"My name is Rastus Lestrange. It's best if you remember it and know your place mudblood."

"I did not ask for your name," Ailill drolled blankly, effectively forcing an embarrassed blush upon the child's face. Oh, how humiliation burns the soul.

"How dare you-"

"Oh my gods, can you shut up? You have the voice of a yowling cat trying to get it on in a back alley."

"How vulgar." He spits.

Ailill gasped, "You mean it? I've been practicing."

"It was not a compliment!"

"Sounded like one to me."

"Well, it wasn't!"

"Okay."

Lestrange was clearly not getting the reaction he aimed for, the mudblood was supposed to be confused and ask what the word meant, then he would piteously explain it to the creature as it started to cry from embarrassment. If he was feeling really nice, he would only leave this place with one pretty amber-gold eye in his pocket ready for his collection instead of two. But instead, the bastard sauntered with a cool attitude and unmoveable confidence. His disrespect was tangible and unapologetic in nature. Should he have been a pureblood, Rastus is sure they would have been the best of friends, perhaps more he mused as he took in the undeniable beauty the boy possessed. Such a shame it's wasted on dirty blood.

"Tom?" Ailill called out into the store.

"Yeah?" He got a callback.

"Make sure you wear a set of the robes as we're leaving. The casual ones and get at least 3 sets you like."

"Okay."

With Ailill's back turned and the seamstress missing, Lestrange held up a thin dagger of well-made origin. Those eyes would be his as a result of his insolence. The blade descended on Ailill and was about to hit its mark should he not have stepped to the side and slid a leg between the other boy's, spreading them to lose balance. The boy stumbled and lost his footing, Ailill's push reinforcing his descent to the floor. Once his back made contact with the wooden boards drawing a harsh gasp he had a wicked-looking Ailill perched on his torso, a familiar dagger in his grasp.

"Tell me, Lestrange," the boy purred dangerously. "Just what were you planning to do with this beautiful blade and little ol' me?"

"Take an eye or two perhaps." the boy murmured in both parts pissed off and confused on how the other boy bested him.

"Hmm," Ailill rolled the dagger in his grasp. "I'll do you one better. I shall skin you of your flesh so perfectly it remains intact and when all that's left is a bloody blubbering stump of eyes, ears, and pain, I will mount the skin on my wall as a tapestry using your teeth to keep it from falling. Doesn't that sound gorgeous?"

Rastus' breathing was quicker than before, laboured breaths barely heard. His accelerated heart rate wasn't from fear, no it was from bliss, from the infatuation of the poetry this beast spoke of in his regale on how he'd rip his vessel binding from its bones to display upon a wall. He sees the same well of insanity in this boy's eyes as he sees reflected back at him every morning in the mirror. The child may be a muggleborn but plenty of purebloods keep a few pets with them, this boy will certainly be his, too indescribable to be left alone. It's best if it comes with Rastus, he can care for it, he can nurture it, he can sate it. No one else needed.

"Come with me."

The words were unexpected but Ailill wasn't so inexperienced as to waver.

"Excuse you-"

The words were cut off as two figures entered the room to where two eleven-year-old boys lay in a heap on the floor, one with a dagger and the other ruffled beyond repair. Seeing Tom, Ailill leaped to his feet to gush over how handsome the boy looked in his robes. Lestrange rose slowly looking like he bit into a lemon, the willingness of his pet to jump to the call of this unimpressive other boy was insulting. Tom gazed at the scene that had been in front of him, Ailill had been pinning another boy down, no doubt after being provoked. The stranger was their age and not welcome, Tom did not like him nor the look in his eye he got when they landed on Ailill for it mirrored his own too much for his liking. Both boys wanted someone who was at this time unattainable.

"We will take all this then," Tom said, wishing to be out of this store, he was already in new robes and Ailill will be soon enough, no need to dawdle around. "Ailill, go change. We have to see the other shops."

Remembering his reason to be here in the first place, Ailill was quick to scurry off and change clothes wanting to see what else the wizarding world had to offer him. Tom and Rastus stared at each other blankly for quite some time, not even breaking it when the seamstress handed Tom a bag full of clothes. Ailill was quick and done in a matter of moments, appearing once more by Tom's side.

"What are your names?" Lestrange asked, having to know the name of his future pet.

"Nothing you need to know," Tom said blandly.

"Listen here little-"

"Your total will be 12 gallons please." The seamstress cut in, clearly wanting to have them out of the shop. Tom was all too happy to comply and hand over the money while hurrying out of the shop not paying attention to Lestrange's deranged shrieks.

"He was rather entertaining, was he not?" Ailill mused.

"No, he wasn't, he looked half mad." Tom retorted, not happy that his companion still had his mind on the stranger.

"Tom, we're half mad."

"Maybe so but we have class."

Ailill guffawed in the middle of the street as the two boys set about heading around Diagon alley, far more comfortable now that they don't stand out much. He loved Tom being this at ease, clearly, the boy loved this new world and had a far happier attitude being immersed in it. They stopped by a trunk shop on their way to the bookstore and picked up two trunks that have charms embedded in them to grow and shrink by the recognition of its owner's voice.

They then headed to 'Scripts and Scrolls' a book shop that seemed to be the most well-known and had a large selection, something Tom would burn through rather quickly Ailill was sure. Once inside the large store the boys split off, they both had different tastes and interests. Tom went to the section on school books and more advanced study materials while Ailill headed to history and politics. Tom would learn the course work and basics and Ailill would learn the society's niceties and political plays, they would both then trade the information to each other. It was a wonderful system they created many years ago.

Tom's work ethic far surpassed Ailill's, the older boy only keeping up or being ahead due to a photographic memory, a cheat in the system if you will. Ailill picked up a rather pretentious-looking book called the 'Sacred 28' by Cantankerus Nott. Once again with the strange names. Ailill quickly started to scan the pages, it wasn't illegal, many people read the books to sample them first most just didn't have a memory so strong that one look and it's like taking a photo in their mind. Shame for them. The book spoke of the 'elite' within society, pureblood society. Ailill bets all his money that the majority of the people within this book are somewhat related and therefore inbred. It is how the people of status in any hierarchy claim to keep their blood pure, it's stupid and debilitating for future generations. The Gaunts feature within the book, Tom's mother's family who from what he could see was extremely inbred up until Merope decided to breed with a muggle, of course, that's not mentioned in the book but it was a decently easy assumption to draw up. Tom in so would be considered 'fresh blood' no doubt to these purebloods even as a halfblood, his bloodline still carried a significant family. Ailill himself would most certainly be pursued by pureblood children as he is from what he could gauge an extremely old family line thought to be lost to time and therefore not related to any of the families, at least not immediately or directly.

After reading the book in whole Ailill decided to buy it believing Tom would rather like it. The work was only published several months ago meaning it has all the most up-to-date information about these families. It would do Tom good to know his possible networking; of course Ailill will be there to help him but it's best he has his own knowledge. Two more books were added to the pile, 'Soul and eyes' by Beatuan Aricy and 'Seats and their Votes' by Yeulan Carrow. The first book was about the magic of the soul and eyes, a traditional book that many old wizarding families followed and the second book spoke of the ministry and government formation. Both books would be exceedingly helpful in learning the ins and outs of the wizarding world. Something Tom and Ailill will need the advantage in.

Speaking of Tom, Ailill started to wander the store looking for the boy. It had been a good hour since they arrived and it would be in their best interest to move on to getting wands, at least for today. Potions supplies and other essentials could be got at a later date. Moving like water through the aisles Ailill kept an eye out for dark hair with a cold aura. Sure enough, he found Tom standing beside a bookshelf with a pinched expression and tense shoulders. Parallel to him was an older gentleman and a boy looking to be around the same age as Tom. The two strangers held haughty expressions and that same revulsion in their eyes as they looked upon Tom as if he was something foul. The expression pissed Ailill off big time, no one is allowed to make Tom feel bad unless it's him.

Pushing his shoulders back and head high, Ailill sauntered over until he stood just behind Tom with a possessive arm sliding up under his arm and across his chest. The new arrival left the strangers to draw their eyes upon him. They could see vague bloodthirst within whiskey eyes, an insanity that they knew all too well, his facial structure suggested ancient bloodlines but his association to the boy they're sure is a mudblood despite wearing wizarding robes suggests otherwise.

"Well if it isn't Lord Arcturus Black from the ancient and most noble house of Black. Truly and honor to be in your presence." Ailill drawled confusing Tom, how did he know these strangers? It was a question he'd ask later but for now, would let the other boy handle the situation.

"And just who are you boy?" The rumble of Arcturus Black sounded. The disgust in his eye did not fade but was overpowered by curiosity, should the children know of him and speak so formally they might not be muggleborn then at least half-blood, not that that's any better. The one that spoke was pretty with fair skin and dark hair, enticing whiskey eyes that burned with poison. He was appreciable.

"My name is Ailill Peverell, last of my line. And my companion is Marvolo Slytherin, heir to the line of Slytherin. Surely we are of noteworthy acknowledgment, no?"

The head of the Black family recoiled like he was struck and his son turned pale in awe. You could see the rapid regret growing on the older man's face as he comes to realise that he was acting improperly not to one but two children of prominent bloodlines, ones that haven't merged with other families for a long time. Alphard Black was only eleven and could honestly say this was the best day he's ever had, it's not that he dislikes his uncle but seeing him put in his place by a child his own age no less is highly amusing.

"Ah, please allow me to mend my speech a little," Arcturus spoke like oil trying to cover his blunder. "We were not aware of the return of your families, many suspect you to have died out."

"Yes," Ailill slid until he was hugging Tom. "I'm sure we were of great concern and disappointment for many when such rumors appeared."

"I cannot deny that you weren't."

"Well, as per our recent inheritance test you need not worry for we are alive and well, preparing to head off to Hogwarts this coming term."

"I see," Lord Black hummed, his eyes never straying from Ailill. "How fortunate we are, please do not feel hesitant to reach out to the House of Black should you need anything, we are most happy to provide."

"How generous," Ailill said. "As riveting this conversation was, Marvolo and I must be on our way and I'm sure you're busy yourself Lord Black. Do not let us hold you up."

"Not at all," the older man waved away. "It was our pleasure to encounter you both, we hope to see you again soon should it be pleasing to you."

"Of course," Ailill smiled indulgently watching as the man hungrily watched him. "We would love to. Let's go Marvolo, we must head to Ollivanders."

"Right," Tom said, obsessively watching Ailill successfully not only gain respect but make the man who had spoken rather rudely to him abashed. "We should visit the other Alley as well before we leave, the one named Knockturn Alley."

"Of course," Ailill smiled. "Anything for you, doll."

Arcturus Black along with his nephew were both rather baffled at the turn of events. They had planned to come to Diagon Alley today and pick up some books for the upcoming school term, maybe they would grab a coffee and gossip in disgust about the ignorance of muggleborns but instead, they were treated to the occasion of being ridiculed in an admirably subtle way by a pureblood pretty boy of a once thought lost cause name who the Slytherin Heir was clearly infatuated with if the vindictive possessive look that shone on his face when the boy was in other others arms was anything to go by. It was an...unexpected way to have the day go. The two Blacks watch the eleven-year-olds walk out of sight with their books, Arcturus was anxious to leave and inform the inner circle of purebloods of who he just met, normally he would be worried about doing such a thing in case it gave others an advantage over him, but he's already met the two boys and while his impression wasn't the most tasteful it was still an impression.

God, Lord black sighed, I need a whiskey.