Dreams of Dark Obsession - Tom Riddle

part three

The cold lingered long after Tom had vanished, as though the very walls of Hogwarts had absorbed his presence. Y/N stood frozen, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to shake off the unsettling mix of fear and fascination still clawing at her senses. She glanced around the Room of Requirement, half-expecting him to materialize from the shadows again, but the space was empty now, save for the dying fire in the hearth.
Still, she could feel him—his presence like a phantom lingering in her mind, a dark echo that refused to fade.
But she refused to let him win. Whatever this was, she wouldn't be consumed by it. By him.
With trembling hands, Y/N turned and hurried out of the room, the heavy door shutting behind her with a soft click. The corridors of Hogwarts felt different now, more ominous, the familiar shadows darker and the distant murmurs more sinister. Every footstep echoed like a warning, and she couldn't shake the feeling that, even though he had physically left, Tom was still watching—always watching.
Days passed, and the feeling only grew stronger. It was like a thread that tied her to him, pulling tighter with every breath, every thought. In class, his icy blue eyes would follow her, lingering just long enough for a chill to creep down her spine. In the Great Hall, he would sit just far enough away to be out of earshot but close enough for his presence to suffocate her. And at night, the dreams became more vivid—his hands reaching for her, his voice wrapping around her mind like a velvet noose, whispering of power and control.
But it wasn't just the dreams that plagued her now. It was the small, strange things that began to happen—the shadowy figure she could almost see out of the corner of her eye, the books she needed mysteriously appearing on her desk, the unmistakable scent of dark magic lingering in the air when she was alone. It was as if the castle itself was conspiring with him, trying to ensnare her in his web.
One evening, after yet another sleepless night filled with visions of Tom's cold touch and whispered promises, Y/N found herself standing at the edge of the Black Lake. The water was calm, reflecting the pale moonlight, and for a moment, the stillness offered a brief respite from the chaos swirling in her mind.
But that peace shattered when a voice, deep and smooth as silk, cut through the silence. "You can't run from me, you know."
Y/N turned sharply, her heart leaping into her throat as she saw him standing just a few feet away. He moved with his usual predatory grace, his pale skin illuminated by the moonlight, his sharp features casting long shadows over his face. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—those icy, piercing blue eyes—glinted with something dark and possessive.
"I wasn't running," Y/N managed to say, though her voice trembled. "I needed to think."
Tom's lips curled into a slow, almost mocking smile. "And have you thought?" He stepped closer, his presence a looming force that made the space between them shrink unbearably. "Have you realized yet that there's no escape from me? That no matter where you go, I'll always be there, waiting?"
The words sent a jolt of fear through them, but also something else—something darker and far more dangerous. The connection between them was undeniable, as though he had woven himself into the very fabric of her being. But it wasn't love. No, it was something far more twisted. It was possession, obsession.
"I won't let you control me," she said, her voice firmer this time, though her pulse raced with every step he took closer. "You may think you have power over me, but you don't."
Tom chuckled softly, the sound low and menacing. "Oh, but I already do." He reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek in a soft, almost tender caress that sent shivers down her spine. "You're already mine. You just haven't accepted it yet."
She slapped his hand away, her breath coming in sharp gasps. "I'll never be yours."
His eyes darkened, the light in them fading into something cold and unyielding. For a moment, she thought he might lash out, but instead, he simply smiled—a smile that chilled them to their very core. "We'll see," he said softly, his voice as smooth as velvet but laced with an edge of cruelty. "You can fight it all you want, but in the end... you'll come to me. You'll beg for it."
The certainty in his voice, the absolute conviction that he would win, made Y/N's heart falter. But she refused to let him break her. Even as the darkness threatened to close in around her, she held onto the sliver of light still burning inside.
"You underestimate me," she said, her voice quiet but fierce. "You won't break me."
Tom's smile widened, but there was no warmth in it—only the cold, calculating gaze of someone who had already won. "I look forward to seeing your attempts at fighting the inevitable," he whispered, his voice a soft promise of the storm yet to come.
Then, without another word, he turned and disappeared into the shadows once more, leaving Y/N alone by the edge of the lake, the weight of his presence still lingering in the cold night air.
As she stared out at the water, her thoughts churned in a chaotic whirl. She knew this wasn't over—far from it. Tom Riddle was relentless, and he would stop at nothing to have what he wanted. But she wouldn't let him take her without a fight.
No matter how strong his pull, no matter how dark the road ahead, she would resist. Because deep down, she knew that surrendering to him would mean losing everything—her freedom, her sanity, her very soul.
But resisting him... that might be the hardest fight she would ever face.