Gellert Grindelwald was a meticulous person, everything would be planned down to the last step and would work out without fail. But losing the elder wand, the fucking elder wand right out of his hand well it's safe to say that was a rather nightmarish day for many. Gellert did not become powerful due to the elder wand, he was powerful already in his own right, the wand was simply an added bonus - a physical manifestation of his outstanding magical capabilities if you will.

The wand was acting perfectly normal then all of a sudden it flies out of his hand in a rising of blue magic, the magic was cold in nature and the wand lapped it up like a dog to water, it was rather insulting if he was being honest. The wand never acted like that to his magic and he's Gellert Grindelwald. He had a war brewing, he was, without doubt, one of the most powerful wizards ever to exist with few to match him, the wand had no reason to deny him or refuse his magic. The Peverell line was no more, having died out or married amongst others, especially not Antioch, the original holder of the wand. There was no explanation for the wand to up and disappear like that, Accio doesn't work on such things and only Gringotts rituals for bloodline inheritance can summon-

The blond paused in his pacing - there couldn't be- surely he would have heard something. "Meier!" Gellert roared with rage.

Not a few seconds had passed before the scutting of footsteps and the appearance of a man showed up, his face set in a stone facade but his eyes quivered with barely concealed fear.

"Yes my lord." The words were spoken with a fear so strong it reduced them to a whisper.

"Tell me," Grindelwald tipped impatiently. "Has there been any new appearances of someone donning the Peverell name? Anyone at all?"

"No my lord," Meier murmured confusedly. "None that we have heard of."

"Go to Gringotts, every single branch and for the love of magic find me who has!"

"Yes my lord, right away my lord." The man hurriedly bowed and fled the room heading to give out orders to followers stationed in America, France, Russia, and England. To have an unsatisfied Lord is to have your torturer within your parlor and offer a free torture session.

Grindelwald brushed up to stand in front of a window, blue eyes peering down at the scampering of disgusting, filthy, muggles. He needed that wand, better yet the person whose magic it seemed so inclined to work for. I'll find you, he vowed then, you're mine.

{x}

Every teacher so far that Tom and AIlill have had in this school has been of a decent age, not too old that they look like they're going to kneel over and not too young to not be taken seriously. Galatea Merrythought on the other hand was so withered looking Ailill was worried that he'd have to sweep up her ashes as she walked by. She was a strict woman, the kind that strikes fear into the hearts of men, Ailill quite liked her.

"Alright brats, listen close and listen clear 'cause I don't repeat myself and hold no pity for those that think they can get by with minimal effort." the old lady barked

At the mention of minimal effort, Tom shot Ailill a look to which he only raised an eyebrow at.

"In first year we build up your knowledge on dark creatures and how to incapacitate them or treat injuries caused by them." Merrythought hobbled around the front of the classroom far more agile than thought of her appearance. "We will also be learning some minor jinxes and charms of the kind such as revealing spells, spells to knock out the legs of an opponent, and smokescreens. Any questions?"

A boy in blue raised his hand hesitantly. "Will we be dueling?"

Aged eyes flickered to him, "no, that's an activity taken up in second year. For this year you will practice on dummies and advance next year. Your name?"

"Arnold Bane, miss."

Merrythought gave a nod, "our first class will be covering the creature of the living dead also known as zombies. Book, page 92."

Children scrambled to open their books ready for a day of teaching.

"Zombies are more commonly found in the southern parts of America, the cold not being a friend of theirs. They are identifiable by their greyish skin colour and rotten smell. They could be considered the close cousin of inferi but are in fact, two different creatures. To raise a zombie is considered dark sorcery and punishable, to be fair if you can raise a zombie you are wasting your potential as they are rather unimpressive things to behold, inferi are far more vicious."

Merrythought spoke clearly and with conviction, she did not beat around the bush or try and disguise the reality of these creatures. It was an interesting class Ailill had to admit, things once considered folklore and childish imagination to him actually come to life and are real. The woman showed pictures of the creatures and they were very ugly, half-rotten faces hanging barely onto the skull while foggy eyes stared unseeing. The bodies were emaciated and off colour, bones showing through sore-filled skin and maggot-infested ulcers. It was enough to make one child lose their breakfast. Ailill was vaguely interested in the images and Tom looked on with a curl of disgust to his lip. After vanishing the half-digested food on the floor the teacher carried on not missing a step. The rest of class was spent on learning how to deal with the creatures and homework was an eight-inch essay on the living dead they had been discussing.

Tom could see the class becoming one of his favourites.

Herbology was so very dull to Tom, while from one angle it can be interesting if you think of it in the sense that all the things they were doing they could harvest for potions ingredients. Some plants were interesting like the devil's snare which went hand in hand in learning the fire spell. And later on in the year the class was supposed to be learning a severing spell, that could have some very useful applications.

History of magic just became a period of napping for Ailill, he read a chapter in advance of the class and then slept, if he was called upon he'd have no problem answering, it was the only class Ailill insisted on dragging Tom to the very back away from the teacher's point of view. The professor was a teacher on the older side, not as old as Merrythought but close enough, his voice was flat and full of boredom. The whole experience was bitter for Tom who wished nothing more than to learn about the world he was denied for so long. While he was never one to ignore a teacher it was incredibly hard to not want to look at something far more interesting, like some of the subjects from the book he took out of the library during the weekend, surely a peek wouldn't be too bad the Gryffindors on the other side of the room were flicking papers at each other for merlin's sake.

Tom heaved the book out of his bag and placed it on the desk, it was a transfiguration book advanced too, the librarian Mrs Prince was reluctant to let him take it out but a combined effort of both his and Ailills charms had the young woman melting and having Tom sign the registry in no time. The volume was thick with yellowing pages, detailed accounts, and instructions on various spells. Tom was only flicking through the chapters more to pass time than indulge his curiosity. He found one transfiguration that turns items into pillows and promptly did so to a piece of paper before softly nudging his friend up from the desk who glared at him crankily until he saw the pillow and fell back to sleep with a smile.

The whole week went in a similar direction, the teachers gave detailed accounts on the background of spells and incantations before letting the students try them. Teachers became enamored by the magically astounding pair of Slytherins by the names Marvolo and Ailill, they were so well mannered and magically adept they were a dream to teach. All of the staff was gathered in a room to which they were starting the early year meeting that is held so all teachers can raise any concerns about the students. It starts with the seventh years and progresses down. It ran smoothly like usual until it got to the first years.

"Now," Armando Dippet, the acting headmaster said. "Anything to say about the first years we got this time around?"

"I think we got a very bright bunch!" Herbert Beery, the herbology teacher cheerily said.

"Yes, they are rather intellectual." Slughorn agreed fervently. "Especially two of my Slytherins, Mr Peverell and Mr Slytherin. Top of their classes!"

"Yes, they're a delight to teach," Dumbledore gave credit where credit was due. "But I'm a bit confused about Mr Peverell."

"Why so Albus?" Dippet asked, concerned.

"Well, the boy has an exceptional mind being able to remember anything he sees, truly a fascinating child but the work he turns in is just above passing. It makes me worried about whether it's something we might be able to help with or whether he just doesn't see a reason to do his best." Albus's blue eyes twinkled beneath furrowed brows.

"You think he might have a hard time transcribing his thoughts?" Silverstout queried skeptically.

"Perhaps," the transfiguration teacher shrugged. His blue eyes caught an alarmed Slughorn. "Are you okay Horace?"

"Ah well," the man fumbled as attention was brought to him. "At the end of the first potions class young Peverell stayed behind to ask me about the education system we hold here. He questioned how only the exams issued by the state affected the prospect of future jobs. He inquired about if any classwork goes towards these exams and if they have any effect at all." grim relations shone in his eyes. "I told him the truth, that it doesn't."

"Ha!" The portrait of Phineas Black barked in laughter upon the wall of the headmaster's office. "A true Slytherin he is, good one you got there Horace."

"So, he's just choosing not to put in the effort?" Dumbledore spoke ignoring the portrait.

"Seems so." Slughorn agreed.

"What should we do then?" Dippet asked.

"Mark him harder so that he has to turn in better work." Merrythought declared ruthlessly.

"No, we can't do that," Sliverstout shook her head. "It would be singling him out then and in turn might make him resent us."

The teacher grew to a cluster of suggestions and shutting down such notions, volume slowly rising.

"Maybe it's best if someone speaks to the boy, ask for his reasoning on such a decision." Dippet cut in. "Albus you do so since you brought up the matter, we will hold another meeting next week to hopefully have resolved the issue. Dismissed. Oh and Albus?"

"Yes, headmaster?"

"Mr Peverell was right, blue suits you far more."

The teacher left one by one lightly sniggering and silently noting to keep a better eye on the child now that they've been told of him slacking off.

{x}

Rastus Lestrange was never one to give up, fall back and replan maybe but never one to give up. Some may call it a rather Gryffindor-like quality but he prefers persistent Slytherin. He had planned to take Ailill as a pet of sorts based on his assumption of the other boy's blood however now that it is known that he is of prestigious standing he is with reason to take the boy as a spouse, the only problem is Marvolo Slytherin.

No one else in the dorm might be able to see it but one does not walk beside madness every day just to ignore the signs in others. Slytherin held rather intense emotions for his childhood friend. Rastus can see the tick of his jaw as some crowd Ailill, he can see the flex of Marvolo's hands as he's tempted to grab the other and run. It's only a matter of time before Marvolo comes to realise he doesn't like and can't stand not having Peverell's complete attention like he would have had for years. Lestrange wasn't sure why courtship hadn't been offered between the two, it was obvious that one of the pair had no plan on letting the other out of his sight or share him with anyone else. It was actually kind of a miracle that Alphard hasn't been killed yet for his rather informal and friendly attitude towards Ailill.

Rastus had already written to his parents about his ideas on pursuing Peverell and they were all for it, actively encouraging him. That was until he heard that Peverell was against engaging with a courtship offer. Maybe they were too young? But many fruitful unions start with long courtships dedicated over years of time. Would a later age one suit more? What age was accepted for Ailill? The questions were driving him mad. One thing for certain, Ailill Peverell would not be in courtship in his first year, Rastus can go home and plan during the summer after gathering information about the boy over the course of the year. It was not preferred but unchangeable.

Not much had been given away during the first week that Hogwarts had commenced. So far Lestarnage knew that respect was a huge thing for Peverell. He treated the creatures that were no more than slaves with respect, the teachers with respect, and Salazar forbid you disrespect him. Eila Kneeve nearly lost a finger that way. Peverell was weird when it came to his skin, some days it was hard to keep the bastard from becoming indecent and other days someone couldn't come within five feet of him, not even Slytherin was an exception to that rule. The boy was a freaking pain in the head that for some reason seemed to make you develop masochistic tendencies because you never want the pain to go away.

Next year another set of purebloods are going to be joining Hogwarts which means more competition. There's to be Walburga Black, Eileen Prince, Caius Rosier, Anton Dolohov, and more. All prominent houses and with good influence. Peverell doesn't seem too interested in social interactions, however, so that's a plus side to him. He never goes out of his way to talk to someone but that's not to say someone might entice him to speak. It's best for Rastus to stay close and cultivate a friendly base before hinting at more intimate relations. Maybe Slytherin will find someone else to attempt to court...who's he kidding Peverell is the ideal. Strong magical ability, noble and pure bloodline, decent manners, attractive looks. He ticks all the boxes! Marvolo wasn't a bad choice for a husband either, he too was magically competent with polite manners and good background, while he had the looks that will most definitely flourish in later years, he holds more of a brooding, murderous like visage. Not exactly Rastus' type.

Life at Hogwarts was going to be interesting that's for sure, next week is the start of flying lessons, and when that was announced Marvolo had looked particularly bitter while Ailill laughed at his friend's expression. Seeing such animated happiness come from Peverell always shocked the first year Slytherins, even though they had all only been boarding for a week together so far they could tell such instances were to be cherished for they were far and few in between. Black was particularly clingy to Ailill with Malfoy attempting to be the same but a bit more suave, spoiler! He isn't succeeding. Abraxas seemed to have more self-preservation as he tended to back off at the scathing looks received from Marvolo while Alphard only clung tighter until Ailill himself grew annoyed and bodily removed the boy which always left the Black boy whining and pouting.

Ailill kept up only doing the bare minimum for class and was sure that Dumbledore had caught on to it as the day after homework assignments were handed up the professor would ask the same question and get Ailill to verbally answer it, it most often tended to be a far more developed and well-rounded answer. He wasn't going to stop by any means, it doesn't make sense for him to slave over work when it's not needed. Only Tom really knew of his motives and while he was annoyed with his friend he also had faith that it wouldn't impact the boy's learning, he even got a deal out of it. Ailill would do sub-par work but in return had to get full marks on any test they had, if the boy didn't meet the requirements he had to do a full month of high-quality classwork along with homework. Peverell accepted the terms.

Tom had been doing more research into his family on his mother's side and had actually found out that he had more family than thought, distant but family nonetheless. It seemed that it was witches of the Gaunt line that founded the North American school of magic that thrived to this day. He could not find much on his ancestry and founder of the school Isolt Sayre and had been thinking of getting in contact with some of the last descendants of Salazar Slytherin. He planned to at least over the summer send a letter to America to see if they could offer any tombs of knowledge depicting the history of Isolt Sayre and the life she lived.

Ailill was all for it and believed this to be a step in the right direction, a piece of a jigsaw that can be slotted together so that he, the box may no longer be of use and discarded. If Tom had other family and formed bonds he would be more inclined to spend time with others until he no longer realises he's missing Ailill, it was perfect! By the time he notices Ailill no longer around he will be set with a firm foundation and loads of others to love just as passionately. He may mourn and be sad but he will not be driven to madness and attempt something stupid like following him to the afterlife or for the love of Mercy attempt to reconnect Ailill to the earth. Tom would be just fine and Ailill will get to experience the peace he so desperately desired for more than a decade. A solution to both their problems.

Shame Ailill never truly understood just what Tom wanted.