Both obsessed/Tom Riddle (completed)

019 Ernesh's family

Tom's grip on Ernesh's wrist tightened slightly as he led him deeper into the forgotten wing of the castle, the silence around them broken only by the echo of their footsteps against the cold stone floor. The torches lining the narrow corridor flickered with an unnatural light, casting long, twisting shadows that seemed to writhe like serpents on the ancient walls. Tom moved with purpose, his dark eyes glinting with an almost feverish intensity, while Ernesh followed in silence, his black, fathomless eyes scanning their surroundings with quiet curiosity.

The air grew heavier with each step, thick with the oppressive weight of magic long since abandoned but not forgotten. Ernesh could feel it pressing against his skin, seeping into his very bones, and it thrilled him in a way he couldn't quite explain. He stayed close to Tom, his hip occasionally brushing against Tom's as they walked, a subtle but intimate gesture that made Tom's lips curl into a small, knowing smile.

At the very end of the hallway, they stopped in front of a massive door carved from dark, aged wood. Intricate patterns of coiling serpents adorned its surface, their emerald eyes glowing faintly as though alive. Above the door, a single name was etched in elegant, flowing script: Salazar.

Tom turned to Ernesh, his expression both triumphant and reverent, as though he were unveiling a treasure meant only for the two of them. "This," he said, his voice low and commanding, "was Salazar Slytherin's private office. A place no one else has dared to tread for centuries. Until now."

He pushed the door open with deliberate slowness, the heavy wood groaning in protest as it swung inward. The room beyond was dimly lit, its ancient walls lined with towering shelves filled with books and scrolls that seemed older than time itself. A massive desk, carved from dark oak and adorned with ornate silver inlays, stood at the center, its surface cluttered with faded parchments, quills, and vials of what looked like shimmering green liquid. The air smelled of dust, old parchment, and something darker, something that made Ernesh's skin prickle.

Ernesh stepped inside cautiously, his eyes wide as they darted from one relic to another. Every detail of the room spoke of power and secrecy, of a mind consumed by ambition and a thirst for knowledge that defied the natural order. "It feels... alive," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tom watched him closely, his dark gaze lingering on the way Ernesh's slender fingers trailed along the edge of a nearby shelf, his touch almost reverent. "It is," Tom said softly. "This room holds echoes of Salazar's magic. It's a place of immense power. A place meant for someone like you."

Ernesh turned to him, a faint smile playing at his lips. "Me?"

Tom stepped closer, his presence commanding, almost overwhelming. "You're more connected to this world than you realize, Ernesh. And I can prove it." He moved to a shelf at the back of the room, his long fingers brushing aside layers of dust until they settled on a single book. It glowed faintly as he pulled it free, the light intensifying as he turned to face Ernesh. The title, etched in bold, shimmering letters, read Balcom.

Ernesh's breath hitched slightly as he took a hesitant step forward, his gaze locked on the book. "What is that?" he asked, his voice tinged with both curiosity and unease.

Tom's lips curled into a faint smirk as he opened the book to a page near the center, the green and gold light illuminating his pale face. "It's about your family," he said simply, his voice filled with a quiet reverence that sent a shiver down Ernesh's spine.

"My family?" Ernesh echoed, his black eyes narrowing as he moved closer.

Tom nodded, his gaze never leaving the pages. "The Balcom bloodline. Ancient. Fearsome. They were sorcerers so powerful, so dark, that even the gods of Ancient Greece feared them." He glanced up at Ernesh, his expression unreadable. "They were said to have descended from beings older than the gods themselves—beings that thrived in the shadows, in the places where light dared not touch."

Ernesh's chest tightened, a strange mix of pride and unease swirling within him as Tom continued.

"In the late 1800s, they disappeared from the public eye. But they didn't vanish. They went underground, delving deeper into the darkest forms of magic. They worked with snakes, forging bonds with them that went beyond mere control. Your mother, Circe, was the last of their line. She was brilliant, ambitious, and utterly ruthless."

Tom's voice softened, becoming almost hypnotic. "Circe wanted to create a being that transcended mortality, one that could bridge the gap between human and serpent. She experimented for years, sacrificing everything in her pursuit of perfection. When she became pregnant with you, she knew she had finally succeeded. But the magic she used... it was too powerful. It consumed her, claimed her life so that you could live."

Ernesh stared at Tom, his black eyes wide, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "So I... I'm..."

"You're more than human, Ernesh," Tom said, his voice a low, possessive whisper. "You were born of magic so dark, so profound, that it rewrote the very fabric of your being. You're not transforming. You're becoming what you were always meant to be."

Ernesh's lips parted slightly, a faint smile spreading across his face. "That's why I feel it," he murmured, almost to himself. "The hunger. The changes. It all makes sense now."

Tom stepped closer, his hand reaching up to cup Ernesh's jaw, his fingers cold against the warmth of Ernesh's skin. "You were always meant for greatness," he said, his voice soft but laced with an unyielding intensity. "And I'm the only one who sees it."

Ernesh leaned into Tom's touch, his black eyes shimmering with something dark and unreadable. "You've given me so much," he whispered. "I want to reward you, Tom. Tell me how."

Tom's lips twitched into a smirk. "With what?"

Ernesh's smile widened, the expression both serene and unsettling. "You'll see."

Tom led Ernesh into another chamber beyond the office, its entrance hidden behind a sliding panel in the wall. The room was massive, its ceilings vaulted and its walls lined with rich green and gold tapestries that shimmered like molten metal in the dim torchlight. A massive bed, easily the size of a small room, sat at the center, its frame carved from dark wood and inlaid with intricate patterns of serpents. The sheets were a deep emerald green, the pillows adorned with golden embroidery in the shape of coiled snakes.

Ernesh's breath caught as he stepped inside, his gaze sweeping across the room. Every detail spoke of luxury and power, of a mind that valued opulence and control above all else. "It's beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with awe.

Tom closed the door behind them, his dark eyes glinting with satisfaction. "It was Salazar's private bedroom," he said, his voice low and reverent. "Few have ever seen it. Fewer still have slept in it."

Ernesh turned to him, a faint smile playing at his lips. "And now it's ours?"

Tom stepped closer, his presence almost suffocating in its intensity. "It's ours," he said firmly. "Everything in this castle is ours."

Before Ernesh could respond, Tom grabbed him by the waist and threw him onto the massive bed. Ernesh let out a soft gasp as he landed among the plush sheets, his black eyes wide as Tom loomed over him, his expression predatory.

"So," Tom said, his voice a low purr. "What was this reward you mentioned?"

Ernesh sat up slowly, his movements graceful, almost serpentine. He crawled to the edge of the bed, his dark gaze never leaving Tom's. "Sit," he said softly, his voice laced with an eerie calm. "At the edge."

Tom raised an eyebrow but complied, settling himself at the foot of the bed. Ernesh knelt before him, his black eyes glinting with something dark and unreadable as he smiled faintly. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice soft but filled with meaning. "For everything."