When Ailill made his way into the common room he was greeted by the sight of a sitting Tom illuminated by the dying fire rubbing the area between his eyebrows. The normally stoic face was pinched in an expression of pain, not one usually seen on the young aristocratic face. Concerned, Ailill swiftly made his way over to Tom and softly sat down while guiding his hands to take the other boy's face into his palms. Tom slightly jumped at the skin on sin contact reading himself to flay the person who dared to touch him before seeing Ailill and relaxing into the hold.

"What's wrong, doll?" Ailill murmured lowly as to not upset the slightly distressed boy.

"My head hurts," Tom informed him, not quite whining but reveling in the care Ailill showed for him. "It's strange Ailill, I never get sick and my head feels like it's pounding." Tom completely dropped his head into smooth palms until the only thing keeping his head up was his friend.

Ailill stared at Tom with shielded eyes, was Tom really becoming sick? It couldn't be, Tom never gets sick. Never once has he had a flu or cold or even a tummy bug/ Surely there's no way that this is his magic is backfiring? Ailill had performed many memory alterations over the years and all had worked successfully, granted all of them were muggles. Like the time he made the baker two streets away from the orphanage miraculously forget where he just made freshly baked bread therefore not noticing its disappearance. Or that time he was strolling through a department store far too fancy for his standing and every bodyguard that came in contact with him suddenly forgot what they were doing. Could it be different with wizards and witches or just magical folk in general? Was Tom magic fighting the intrusion? The attempts at altering the hippocampus in efforts to fix his mistakes. That won't do, Tom cannot know about the once accepted courtship, the boy is obsessive and possessive as hell to an unhealthy degree but then again we can't really claim Tom to be a normal child even by wizarding standards. Ailill is not blind to the way the child looks at him, if given the chance he would bind Ailill to him in every way possible to assure the continued bond between them. The only thing stopping Tom at the moment is consent and lack of resources but if he finds out that Ailill gave consent to a courtship Tom will run with it and take that as the incentive to tie the whiskey-eyed boy to himself. Retraction be damned. Tom would prefer to ask for forgiveness instead of asking for permission.

Tom is young but not stupid, if the headache persists he will devel into it believing it not to be natural and could stumble upon reasoning relating to more obscure magic. Should he suspect foul play with memories at hand he will not stop until one hundred percent sure nothing is amiss. He wouldn't be angry with Ailill per say but definitely tighten his hold believing the only reason he was filled was because he became lax. This could be very bad, perhaps Ailill should look into brewing pain-relieving potions. It would be too hard to slip some into Tom's food or drinks. It's not uncommon for Ailill to provide Tom with an assortment of food or beverages making sure the boy is sufficiently fed and hydrated and the Tomy would never think of his closest most trusted slipping something of malicious nature which is true Ailill would never do that. Should the Tom cast a charm looking for any added additions to the original state all that would come up is a pain reliever, a few smiles, and promises of wanting the best for his health and Tom will forget all about it.

There is the problem of developing an addiction or resistance as well, Ailill does not wish to hurt Tom in any way or make him dependent on anything. Is there the possibility of transferring pain? It's magic there's gotta be something similar. Vowing to look into the healer branch of magic Ailill turned from his thoughts and went to offer comfort to Tom.

"How long has it been going on for?" Ailill questioned as he carefully rubbed circles into Tom's forehead hoping to ease the strain.

"On and off for a few days, it gets worse when I'm thinking." Tom hummed, enjoying the ministrations offered to him.

"Maybe you're overworking yourself, hmm?" Ailill's hands moved to card through loose curls and gently tugged until Tom's head rested on his shoulder boneless and tired.

"Perhaps," Tom said, not really processing anything more interested in stealing Ailill's affections.

"You've done all your work haven't you?"

"Yes," Tom groaned.

"Then," Ailill moved up, ignoring Tom's protests. "Let's head to bed, it's late and we could both do with much-needed sleep. Tomorrow's Monday and I wish to do some research into a branch of magic so the library is where we will be in the late afternoon."

"Huh? Jus' wha' you searchin' for?" Tom's voice was slurred with sleep and so his speech was impacted and reverted to his more Corkery accent slipping through his carefully constructed mask.

"Nothing we can't talk about in the morning light after rest, now come."

Ailill pulled Tom from the couch and led him to the dorm room where the others were already asleep. He placed Tom on the edge of the bed before helping him remove his shoes and then bustling into the bathroom and returning with a damp face cloth. He gently wiped down Tom's face and helped the boy change into pajamas before pulling the corner of the duvet up and ushering him into it. Satisfied Ailill then made quick work of washing himself up and changing. He slid in episode Tom and held the other as he rolled over into AIlill's side seeking warmth.

Ailill held the boy with melancholy in his heart, he adores Tom and hates to see him in pain or suffer even the slightest bit but he must also do what is best, furthering the relationship between them beyond platonic would only incite the boy more pain in years to come. Once Tom finds another to fill that void Ailill will leave and do so in peace knowing the other is safe and content. His motives are purely selfish and he ensures Tom's wellbeing so he may leave when the time comes unburdened by the struggles of the life he would have left behind.

Life is full of pain and twists and turns more often for worse than better. Tom seems to thrive in the hole of existence never wanting to leave the plain of earth while his counterpart despises his inability to leave said earth. So different they are yet so harmonious together balancing and complementing one another to unprecedented heights rising above those who can only dream.

The night was quiet and soft with the breathing of children being the most prominent sound while invisible things to the eye make their way in the shadows and air not particularly interested in the lives of others. The sky blended in colours too dark to be deciphered while the minds within the castle raced and slickered through dreams and nightmares, one blending into another snuffles and hitches of breath being a tell-tale sign.

The castle moved and groaned sentient magic at work and unabiding to anything's whims but it's own. Away in another country, a man sporting blond hair stood before a window as the breaking of dawn came to pass, he was tall and cold magic whipping in the air unseeing but potent. In his hand was a piece of parchment clutch so strong if it was a neck it would be severely bruised if not cracked. Upon the unassuming paper was a mess of dark words scribbled hastily in black ink.

Peverell? Ailill

Age: 11

Bloodline not found, goblins refuse to release record detailing family tree or bonds

Last of line?

Unknown where father or mother is; supposedly raised in a muggle orphanage

Rightful claim to Peverell line, blood confirmed

Claim legitimate

This could throw a problem or solution in his plans. Gellert has no doubt that his once held death stick is now in the hands of the child whereby nature is rightfully supposed to be. The wand would work far better for the child than it would for him, after all, the first to hold the wand only lost it due to being killed in his sleep not because he lost a duel. Getting the child to follow him would be the best option, manipulate them at all angles until their very thought process becomes a replica of his own.

The last Peverell is no doubt attending Hogwarts for the moment and in so completely out of reach, summer would be the only time to make face to face contact but even then it's a flimsy opportunity as the boy is an orphan and more than likely under the eyes of Albus now. A letter will perhaps suffice, for now, gain the boy's trust with his hopefully strong curiosity then subtly slip in propaganda to make him question things. It shouldn't be too hard if the child grew up with muggles in an orphanage he will already be less than positive towards them, nasty things those places are.

Yes, written correspondence will be the best for now. Grindelwald straightened up and headed for the sturdy oak desk near the left of the room where stacks of paper sat and quills lay about stained with ink. He sat on the leather chair and flexed his finger before picking up a quill and dipping it into a pot of royal blue ink and began to write.

The morning was bright and cool as the creeping of mid-October sprawled its way across the world and changed the weather to its liking. In the highlands of Scotland in a show of magnificent architecture unseen to the eye of non-magical, a castle full of students started to rise. Beneath the ground hidden in dungeons, Tom Riddle woke to the throbbing of his head and a curled body around his. The whole speckticial would have been welcomed greatly if the persistent pain in his head hadn't been present, he would really have to get it checked out for it was becoming too much of a problem to ignore.

Tom whimpered - a sound he would forever deny having come out of him - and the noise woke Ailill up who upon seeing his very uncomfortable friend hushed him softly and ran pale fingers through his hair massaging the other scalp. The pressure in the front of Tom's brain kept building to the point of dampness gathering in the corners of his blue eyes, the sight alarmed Ailill who quickly got up and started hurrying about the room. He gathered clothes and helped Tom dress once more before doing himself and then like the night before got a face cloth and as softly as he could wipe down Tom's face. Once they were all set Ailill gathered Tom into his arms and supported the boy standing while guiding him out the door. No one else seemed to have been up so early as the first years were asleep and no one was present in the common room.

They moved slowly through the halls, Ailill not wanting to cause more distress to an already in pain Tom. The walk to the infirmary was far too long for the Peverell's liking and the stairs was a particularly unpleasant time in which he made due by carefully lifting Tom up into his arms - he was still far too skinny for Ailill's liking- but he made it happen as swiftly as he could in hope to sooner elevating Tom's pain.

The halls were quiet with no one around and consequently, the hospital wing was just as quiet. Ailill bustled Tom in and lifted him onto an unoccupied bed before heading off to find the Matron not wanting to make a loud noise and upset Tom. There was a door adjacent to where Ailill was standing, taking the risk he made his way to the door before raising a fist and knocking it against the wood sharply three times. Beyond the oak, he could hear muffled sounds and confused murmurs. The handle turned and was wretched open to reveal a fairly young-looking woman around thirty years old staring down at him with concern.

"You alright, dearie?" her voice was calm and soothing with a hint of steel showing not to question her backbone.

"My friend, Marvolo, has been having bad headaches for the past few days and this morning it hit a new high. I'm really concerned for him and decided to bring him here." Ailill wrung his hands together in a sign of nervousness and anxiety.

"Okay lovey, let go and give him a look yeah?"

Ailill gave a nod then spun on his heel and directed her towards where he set down Tom. The boy was splayed out on the hospital bed breathing heavily with his arm flung over his eyes. Ailill hurried to his side and grasped the hand that was unoccupied. Tom didn't move much, only tightly squeezing the other's hand tightly.

"Hello, Marvolo, my name is Irene Fitzgerald and I'm the Healer here," Irene said soothingly, taking into account that the boy's friend said he was having bad headaches. "Your friend said you've been having bad headaches?"

"Mhm," Tom hummed, revoking his hand so he could see the lady. "They started a few weeks ago but they were on and off, it's only the past few days that they've gotten more persistent."

"I see, and you're eating every day and drinking enough water?"

"Ailill would never let me skip," Tom admitted to the woman fond exasperation in his tone.

"How lucky you are then," Irene smiled at the pair. "What about sleep? Have you been getting enough sleep every night? Not staying up late I hope."

"I make sure he's asleep before eleven most nights unless it's the weekend," Ailill informed her.

"Hmm, this could be due to stress then or just adjusting to a new environment." Irene headed to a glass-casing cupboard and nicked a vial from it. "This is a pain reliever, it should help but if these headaches persist you can come to me for more of them in the mornings but if this goes on longer than a week more you should come back and we'll do a more thorough investigation."

"Yes, madam," Tom muttered as he downed the thick liquid with a grimace on his face before it started to smooth out as the potion started to take effect and the pain reduced.

Irene took the empty vial from the boy and watched as he went to sit up as his friend moved to stand and weave his arm around Marvolo to help him up. Once his feet were securely on the floor and he was standing up, a straight boy turned to her.

"Thank you very much, madam, for your help." the now-at-ease patient said with a small smile.

"Of course, dear. You both best head off now but remember if that headache is still there to come back alright?"

"Yes, madam. I'll make sure he does." Ailill promised as he led Tom out of the hospital wing.

They both walked for a few minutes in silence before Ailill broke it,

"How do you feel now? Better?"

"Yes," Tom nodded in confirmation. "Thank you for bringing me there this morning."

"Always, doll," Ailill said, pulling Tom into a side hug as they strolled their way to the great hall where breakfast should be starting soon.

The hall was practically empty with only a few students scattered about and three teachers at the head table. Tom and Ailill sat at the Slytherin table side by side and plated a bit of everything on their plates with Tom going for more calorie-heavy foods such as bread and eggs while Ailill chose fruit and cereal. Both ate slowly not needing to rush and after about thirty minutes the hall started to fill up a bit more and a few of the Slytherin first years stumbled their way into the hall.

First to sit down was Abraxas who despite his sleepy eyes looked immaculate as always after him was Alphard looking disheveled as usual followed by Rastus who was the most awake of the three and nodded to the Peverell-Slytherin Duo.

"Morning fellas," Ailill said amused with the trio. "Rough morning?"

Alphard shot him a wounded look before staying silent and nibbling on some bacon. Abraxas flipped strands of spun gold over his shoulder before sipping at pumpkin juice and clearing his throat,

"It was a fine morning, perhaps a bit chilly though."

"Yes," Tom agreed, "the weather is starting to cool a fair bit. Best to pick out heavier clothing as the days go by."

The other agreed with them and continued the soft silence muddled with idle morning chatter.

"What first this morning?" Black moaned dreading the day of learning.

"Potions," Ailill clipped as he polished off a few strawberries. "You do have your essay completed, yes?"

"Of course," Alphard assured. "The quality on the other hand is another issue."

"I'm sure it's fine," Rastus dismissed. "I'm more concerned with the extraction of toad liver that we'll have to do all period. Gross."

"That is rather disgusting," Malfoy wrinkled his nose.

"You all will be fine, it's only a single class." Ailill waved them off as he sat waiting for Tom to finish eating and they could head back up to the dorms to collect their bags. He didn't have to wait long and soon the two were standing up and saying goodbye as they sauntered out of the hall and down to the dungeons readying themselves to start a new day.