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They have scanned every book in the room and yet discovered nothing. ㅤ
Tom was already getting frustrated, his fingertips running through his hair, turning his neat hairstyle into a chaotic mess. Ivory eyed him warily, unsure how he'd react. After all, she'd promised him they'd find the truth here with her help.
"Perhaps we should look at this from another perspective," she proposed, setting the last of the records down the neat stack.
He glanced at her, his brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"Well..." She was unsure how she should go about the idea. "We've been looking through these records for your father's surname, yes?"
He didn't reply, only staring at her to continue.
"Perhaps, he wasn't a wizard, Tom." She tried her best to sound soft and careful. "Maybe it's your mother's lineage we should be focusing on."
"Are you telling me I'm a half-blood, Lavigne?" the boy scoffed, his steps taking him to the far corner of the room, a hand raised to cover his mouth in thought.
What she was proposing wasn't impossible, Tom knew that. He even thought that his mother was the muggle one. That was why he focused his search on his father's surname because he thought his father was the magical one in the family. But seeing as they were empty-handed despite the resources surrounding them, he had to admit it, perhaps they were looking in the wrong direction.
"I'm just saying, it's a possibility, alright?" Ivory sighed softly, fully expecting his defensive behaviour. "You were left at an orphanage, after all. Think about it, Tom."
He did think about it. For all his life he debated if he was a pureblood, a half-blood, or even just a muggle-born.
"Fine," he spoke after a while, turning to face the girl. "Let's try and look for Gaunt now."
"Gaunt," she repeated, closing her eyes as the name sounded familiar.
Gaunt, Gaunt, Gaunt. It kept replaying in Ivory's mind. Somewhere in a book here, she's already come across the surname. As Tom picked up a random book to start their search from step one again, Ivory just sat on the edge of the desk and concentrated. Yes, she thought to herself, Gaunt which meant thin and slender. Rising from her seat on the table, Ivory rummaged through a certain pile, toppling the rest of the book stack down. Tom merely eyed her figure from the corner of his eye, too unbothered to ask her what exactly she was doing. After a minute or so of searching for a particular book, Ivory has finally found it, placed at the very bottom of the pile.
