Sorry for the long wait I forgot it was updating day

I've been writing this twilight fanfiction where Tom riddle becomes Bella's twin brother. Would anyone be interested in reading that? I'm going to post it when it's finished regardless, I'm just curious.

Ailill sat at his desk half dying with boredom as Dumbledore spoke about the finessing of transfiguration and how the imagination of an individual can impact the appearance of the object they were transfiguring. Ailill has been having a rather uneventful day and that just didn't bode well with his more inclined nature to sleep when his brain wasn't sufficiently stimulated. The only reason he wasn't off on the depths of his mind dreaming about a far more loveable universe was because Tom was just that cute to watch while frustrated. The golden heir of Slytherin had been brooding all morning as he came to witness the dark stares of the elder students residing among the rooms of the house of cunning.

Tom did not know of the reasoning behind such unbecoming actions but it was starting to brew his ire far too much for his liking. Ailill lay half splayed out across his desk watching the small jumps in Tom's still baby fat covered jaw. Cold blue eyes were hard and unforgiving as the perceptible mind thought back to just what could have made him a target to others. He's kind, approachable, achieves good grades, and the fucking heir of the house for Salazar's sake. Maybe it's petty jealousy but even so, they have no right to scorn him from afar if they wish to dwell on such unsavoury emotions they could at least have the backbone to say it to his face. Where was their pride?

Tom furiously took down notes, half-listening to the gaudily dressed man that gets on his nerves far too much. Transfiguration, while interesting, wasn't his favourite; that spot was reserved for Defense against the Dark Arts much to the displeasure of Slughorn who had taken a rather intense liking to the Slytherin-Peverell duo.

Ailill was content to let Tom stew in his emotions; it was only when they started to impact life on the outside he would step in much like that time Tom thought it brilliant to hang one Billy Stubbs rabbit from the rafters. Now don't get Ailill wrong the work was rather well done and the noose was impeccably made, he had been quite proud of Tom for his handy work. Ailill's pricking temper came with the attitude Tom displayed after the event. The young boy had been quiet upon Ailill's return to the orphanage and testy with his words, the Peverell had found out later that evening after a talk with Ms Cole that they suspected the rabbit brutality was the work of Tom. The matron originally intended to call the local priest for a much-hated exorcism but with Ailill's promise of straightening the menace out, she put the idea to sleep. Very rarely does Ailill take the initiative to deal with Tom's tantrums hands-on he mainly tends to disappear for days on end to the point where Tom works himself up into a fit of anxiety promising to behave better. Was it manipulative and toxic? Yes. Did he care? No. Tom has a mind so twisted normal forms of punishment only add to his wrath, he needs the threat of something he actually treasures to enforce some bit of remorse out of the boy.

Ailill had icily made his way back to the shared room holding an irate boy who he just found out killed a rabbit. He walked his way in ignoring the scornful look blue eyes shot at him and sat in the rickety chair.

"Ms Cole told me about a rabbit murder today, anything to say?" Ailill calmly started.

"Nothing of use." Came the short reply

"Oh?" Ailill cocked an eyebrow and Tom lifted himself from his bed and made his way to the sad excuse of a bookshelf. "It was Billy's rabbit, no? The boy who spilled soup on you the other day?"

Tom's cheeks burn with humiliation as he remembers the horrific day, Stubbs had been jealous of the new pants Ailill had gotten him and made an effort to spill the gunky green pea soup on him as he passed at dinner. The only good part was that Ailill hadn't been present so he was saved from the mortification of the other boy seeing him in such an unsightly way.

"Billy," Tom said darkly. "Could use many lessons in manners. Killing his rabbit would have just been a more prominent one."

"Very true," Ailill agreed. "But the fact stands that you made a show out of it, that was pathetic."

"Why do you care so much about Stubbs and his rabbit?" Tom bristled defensively. "If you're so concerned about him, why don't you go and comfort him instead of sitting here giving me an unwanted lecture"

"I," Ailill narrowed his eyes. " am not concerned with Billy or his rabbit. What I am concerned over is the attitude you're giving me and the fact that you think it was a great idea to make a spectacle out of your petty revenge and now the goddamn matron wants to call the priest for another exorcism!"

The matron had called an exorcism once on the boys when the rest of the orphanage had left for a day out, a gaggle of priests had come and tied them both down with belts and rope before chanting away word in Latin as they flung holy water at them and forced it down their throats making it hard to breathe. When they didn't comply to 'repent' and the devil that was supposedly inside them didn't come out they started to take knives and carve symbols into their young skin, cries of pain unbothersome and ignored. It was when one priest brought a knife close to a panicking Tom Riddle's chest right above his heart, Ailill called upon everything that made up him and in whirlwind was created. It tore through the priests and shredded anything it came into contact with. Skin stuck to the walls and stain the furniture. No longer was it the screams of young innocent boys but of men who tortured children in the name of their 'god'. It was a horrific day, one that strengthened the duo bond and solidified their hate for those that they lived with.

Ailill had made his way out of his chair to now stand right in front of Tom who had his shoulders hunched as if to guard him.

"It's not my fault!" Tom shouted. "Maybe if you were here for me-"

"Never," Ailill shot his hand out to grip the back of Tom's hair and yank it until he was forced to look into fiery eyes. "Never raise your voice at me." His voice was so furious it bordered on a hiss much like Tom's when he was speaking to snakes.

"I do so much for you Tom Riddle and it's best if you remember that instead of taking your anger out on me. I spend my days working to make life easier for you. I am the only one that stands to be around you. I am the only one to care for you. I am the only one that loves you. And I will not be the one to receive the brunt of your anger. Change your attitude or get the fuck out and don't come back."

Tom stared up at the one constant in his life that was painfully gripping his hair, his eyes burned with tears that he refused to let fall as he squirmed in shame because he knew it was true. Everything Ailill said was true, he did everything for Tom and never asked for something in return, he loved him and held him while others would rather throw him to hungry wolves and watch as they tore him apart. He hates emotions, they always make life harder and get him in trouble with Ailill, he makes Ailill angry and upset.

"You're always gone," Tom whispered, nearly too soft to be heard. "You're never here anymore." his eyes betrayed him as salty tears started to make rivets down his cheeks. He sniffled as the hand that held his hair let go and returned to its owner's side, Tom thought that was worse at least if Ailill is touching him even if it was a painful touch Tom still knows that he can stand to touch him.

"Is that what this is? A cry for attention?" Ailill asked, voice holding no emotion.

"No!," Tom denied before remembering what Ailill told not even a few minutes ago. "No, this genuinely was to get back at Stubbs but if you were here," he continued desperately. "He wouldn't even have tried to dump hot soup on me."

Ailill sighed and ran his hand over his face, sometimes he forgets just how young Tom really is compared to him. The other boy is so intelligent that he sometimes forgets that Tom isn't as old as him mentally, that he still feels things on a childish level and his emotions and impulsive tendencies that mimic a child are to be normal because he is a child.

"Look, Tom, I'm not upset with the fact that you got revenge, I'm upset that you broadcasted it. You know the more you stand out here the harder life becomes. I can't be here all the time because I have to go out and make a living for us, I have to trick the nose-in-the-air rich to give us what they have. I have to provide for you in any way I can."

"Why can't I come with you?"

"And what? Glare them to death?" Ailill teased getting a small giggle out of Tom. "Plus you've got school, Tom. You've got to work really hard and study so you can get a good job, then it'll be your turn to provide for us. Okay?"

"Okay." Tom sniffled. "I'll work hard and take care of you, then you can never leave me."

"Whatever you say, doll."

That was a fond memory for Ailill, it was one of the key turns in life that helped Tom grow as a person. The boy had started to take school more seriously than even before and was the best in his class. He still had lapses in judgment and took his emotions out on those around him but he's gotten better. Ailill's just waiting to see if this will be one of those time or will Tom successfully quell his anger.

The young Slytherin could feel Ailill's eyes burning a hole into the side of his face, normally he'd be ecstatic with the attention but with the threat of him acting on his emotions has Tom being wary of the other boy. Ailill doesn't go out of his way to hurt Tom, but just sometimes the boy can be unconsciously cruel to an extreme length and Tom doesn't particularly feel like experiencing that today.

The rest of the day went by with Tom wounding tighter and tighter as the looks become more frequent and Ailill counting down the minute till he explodes. Peverell has no problem with Tom acting on his emotions, he's not a monster. He knows expressing your feelings is healthy, he just doesn't want Tom to get caught and punished because no doubt the result of Tom letting go of his restraint will end with violence. Dinner was a tense affair, the other first-years might not know what was going on but could feel the crackling of anger fill the air and the heavy resentment settled on their tongues. It was clear that Slytherin was the cause of the dreary mood that night and Peverell seemed completely at ease but Malfoy was able to see the tensing of his shoulders.

As they walked back to the common rooms a lot later than usual the rest of the first years put a bit of distance between themselves and Marvolo, their self-preservation instinct kicking in as his eyes grew darker and magic more oppressive. Upon entering the dorm rooms the sight of many older students sitting around the room had the first years acting more cautious. Many of the pureblood children knew what was happening, this was the start of inter-house politics. Usually, the youngest of Hogwarts wouldn't be included but a threat has arisen and shakes the foundations of the inner circle that had been established last year. Marvolo Slytherin was not a factor they accounted for nor prepared for, he was an outlier and a dangerous one at that. He is supposedly an heir of the great Salazar Slytherin, a founder of the very school they all attend, should this be false it would devastate the boy's social and political life forever; it's easy to find out if it's true, the boy should carry the ability to speak to serpents and call upon the school as an heir. And if it is true, well that's a different story, the house of cunning would have an actual heir. There hasn't been a legitimate heir since Hepzibah Smith who pranced around the halls gloating about her Hufflepuff Cup of course she never showed proof and so people took her words with a grain of salt. She is one thing but Marvolo is another. If he really is an heir he will have Parseltongue like his ancestors. Should he prove himself worthy those within the inner circle will happily relinquish power for they will have a ruler by bloodline leading them.

"What is going on here?" Tom questioned eyeing the students lined along the walls.

"Marvolo," a boy stood addressing Tom informally and in so extremely disrespectfully. "You claim to be an heir to this school and this houses' founder yet you do not show us proof, you do not give us reason to believe you."

"Proof?" Tom said his emotions were rising to dangerous levels. "Is my last name not a big enough giveaway?"

"Anyone can forge a last name." the boy dismissed. "By being untruthful you've brought shame to this house, we the Slytherin court have collectively decided to show you your place."

"My place?" Tom spoke lowly, Ailill slowly backed away because of this the other first years followed his initiative. "My place?"

Tom's eyes were alight with fury, cobalt blue turning aegean. "My place is standing above your decapitated corpse as your still-living head cries in agony! Weeping for help but receiving none because you are too much of scum to be worth saving."

The boy who originally spoke was now starting to look unsure and vaguely sick, Tom's magic was starting to seep into the air, the inferno raising temperatures and bubbling in the air.

"My place is being your king"

Tom's last word was in parseltongue, just one word hissed with such venom it turned all the once smugly sitting inner circle to pale and break out into a cold sweat. At the sound of the language of snakes being spoken the once ordinate snakes upon the wall came to life, ruby and viridian eyes shining in excitement. They slithered down the walls and gathered at Tom's feet eager to serve and be in the presence of a child descended from their master.

Students started to drop to their knees, awe and disbelief awakening inside them, it was really an heir of their house! Tom was infuriated that this plebeian spoke to him and questioned his status in front of everyone, especially Ailill. How dare he stand as if he's the same as him as if he's an equal. His magic lashed out, heavy waves of red coiling like whips and descending upon its prey. There was no spell but fury in its purest form of magic. The boy shrieked at burning inflections upon his skin being lacerated to the bone. Its peachy colour turned red in the coating of blood and it bubbled to the surface of open wounds. Skin once whole and unbroken became a collage of slits and mutilation. Some watched in horror and others appreciative, loving how brutal the little heir was. Minutes pass before Tom is sated, there at his feet lie the shivering form of a once recognisable boy, all that was seen now was a bloody stump of flesh, and innards were strewn on the floor. A few students got sick at the sight and threw up.

Tom sighed in relief and rolled his shoulders, "never ask my place again because it is always above you."

"S-Slytherin?" Alphard stuttered.

Tom almost didn't want to turn around, sure he's had tantrums but Ailill's never seen one to this extreme. Would he hate him? Be disgusted with him? The tantrum in the cave is almost tame compared to this. He turned around and was greeted by the white faces of his classmates, some huddled and watching him with fear and others standing straight gazing upon him with astonishment. Tom hesitantly looked to Ailill who stood with his arms crossed and pride shining through his eyes, the whiskey irises speaking nothing but praise.

"What are you going to do with him?" Malfoy nodded to the moaning boy a few feet away. "If you take him to the infirmary there will be questions asked."

"Ailill, if you please?" Tom requested.

A hush fell upon the room once more, what would Peverell do? Why was he being involved?

Ailill stepped closer to Tom and placed a hand on his cheek. "You did so well Marvolo. I shall ease your burden."

Just like before in the cave he snapped his fingers and the sound echoed three times before a blinding shine of light lit up the room. When it was faded the boy once mangled beyond repair now lay in physically pristine condition, but his mind was riddled with memories of pain that would resound for days on end.

"Time magic," Someone in the room whispered in veneration.

"My name is Marvolo Slytherin," Tom announced. "Heir to the line of Slytherin and Heir to the greatest of Hogwarts four. I am the Lord and King of the house of cunning. Ailill Peverell is my equal, and the only one who can stand beside me in everything. Make no mistake that you are at my feet and can climb no higher."