Both obsessed/Tom Riddle (completed)

031 Finals

It's finals week, and the castle buzzed with the energy of nerves and late-night cramming sessions. For Tom and Ernesh, the two brightest minds in their year, the pressure was palpable. After weeks of relentless studying and completing every bit of homework (down to the last foot of parchment), it all boiled down to the Ordinary Wizarding Levels—O.W.L.s—the tests that would define their magical futures. Both of them were top of their class, neck-and-neck, tied in nearly every subject, and rivals in the friendliest of ways.

The day of the exams dawned early. Students shuffled into the Great Hall for breakfast, faces pale and tense, while Tom and Ernesh ate quietly, each deep in thought. First up was Transfiguration. It was known to be one of the hardest exams, but it was also one of their favorites. Tom had perfected his human-to-animagus spell weeks ago, while Ernesh had an uncanny knack for turning objects into animals with startling precision.

In the testing hall, silence reigned as they focused, wands flicking with practiced precision. Tom worked meticulously, transforming a silver goblet into a majestic falcon in one swift motion. A few seats away, Ernesh transfigured his goblet into a phoenix, the fiery feathers gleaming with perfection. The proctor, clearly impressed, nodded at both of them.

Potions came next, in the dimly lit classroom that always carried the faint smell of damp stone and lingering fumes. They had been tasked with brewing a flawless Draught of Peace, a challenging potion that required extreme precision. Tom stirred clockwise, his eyes narrowing as the potion turned the perfect shade of silvery blue. Ernesh, meanwhile, added his powdered moonstone at just the right moment, producing a potion so flawless it shimmered like liquid starlight.

As the day went on, exam after exam tested every ounce of their magical ability. Charms, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and more. By the end of the day, exhaustion tugged at both of them, but there was a strange satisfaction in knowing they had given their best. In the common room that night, they finally allowed themselves to relax.

"You did well today," Tom admitted quietly, his competitive edge softened for a moment.

"You too," Ernesh replied, smirking slightly. "But I think my phoenix had your falcon beat."

Tom rolled his eyes but grinned. "We'll see what the examiners think."

For now, though, it was over. The O.W.L.s were behind them, and whatever the results, they both knew they had given everything they had.

The results for the O.W.L.s came in the following week, and as expected, Tom and Ernesh had tied—again. Their deal still stood, though. Whoever came out on top, even by a fraction, would take the lead for the night. After some deliberation and sly grins exchanged between them, they agreed that Tom would take the honors. That night was long, filled with passion, and by the time dawn broke, Ernesh was completely spent, his legs wobbling as he tried to stand. "You're insufferable," he muttered to Tom, who smirked with the pride of a victor.

The days ticked by, and with only a week left before summer holidays, excitement buzzed through the castle once more. Their summer plans were nothing short of luxurious this year. Abraxas Malfoy, Druella Walbruga Black, and Cornelius Fudge—close friends of Tom and Ernesh—had arranged a trip to France. They were to travel with some members of the Rosier family, who had extended an invitation to their sprawling château in the French countryside. It promised to be a summer of elegance and indulgence, filled with grand feasts, leisurely afternoons by enchanted vineyards, and the kind of opulence that only pureblood families could command.

On the final day of term, Tom and Ernesh packed their trunks in their dormitory, their rivalry temporarily forgotten as the thrill of the upcoming trip took over. Ernesh stretched lazily, still feeling the effects of their agreement from earlier in the week. "I'm going to need a proper day of rest once we arrive," he muttered, shooting a mock glare at Tom.

Tom, ever composed, flicked his wand to neatly organize his belongings. "You'll manage," he said smoothly. "Besides, we have a week of luxury ahead of us. You can't complain about that."

Ernesh raised an eyebrow. "True. But I'm warning you, don't think I'll let you win next time."

Tom chuckled, a soft, knowing laugh. "We'll see about that."

By the time they boarded the train back to London, the group of friends—Tom, Ernesh, Abraxas, Walburga, and Cornelius—were already making plans for their stay in France. Walburga was especially excited about the Rosier family's fabled garden parties, where magic and sophistication intertwined seamlessly. Cornelius, still as ambitious as ever, hoped to impress some of the older Rosier relatives with his budding charm and wit.

As for Tom and Ernesh, they were content to enjoy the company, the decadence, and, perhaps, to see who might claim the upper hand next. France was calling, and the summer promised to be one they would never forget.