Both obsessed/Tom Riddle (completed)

033 Summertime 2

The next morning, Ernesh awoke feeling much better, though the lingering hum of energy from the previous days still simmered faintly under his skin. His cravings were gone—for now—but the clarity that replaced them sharpened his presence. By the time they were ready to leave the Rosier château and head into the village with the rest of their group, Ernesh had chosen his outfit with precision: an all-black ensemble, sleek and finely tailored, giving him an air of both intimidation and elegance. The subtle embroidery on his lapels shimmered like snakeskin, and the faint green accents in his outfit seemed to pulse with dark energy.

Tom, not to be outdone, dressed to complement him. His robes were equally elegant, with rich green and gold accents that caught the light, framing his pale features like he was royalty. Together, they cut an imposing figure—perfectly matched and utterly captivating. Even Walburga, who rarely gave compliments, raised an eyebrow as they descended the grand staircase.

"You two look... prepared to make an impression," she remarked, her tone halfway between sarcasm and admiration.

"Always," Tom replied smoothly, adjusting his cuffs.

The group—Tom, Ernesh, Abraxas, Walburga, Cornelius, and a handful of Rosier cousins—set off to explore the nearby magical village. The streets were lively with pureblood families and practitioners of darker magic, many of whom had gathered in France for this very reason: connections, alliances, and the sharing of knowledge too dangerous to be discussed in public back home.

As they wandered through the cobblestone streets, they stopped at shops that catered specifically to their kind—places selling rare, enchanted artifacts, forbidden tomes bound in black leather, and ingredients for potions too dark for the Hogwarts syllabus. Ernesh's eyes gleamed as he ran his fingers over a display of vials containing shimmering, unidentifiable substances, while Tom inspected a collection of ancient rings imbued with curses.

The group reconvened outside an apothecary, and Abraxas was the first to pipe up. "The Rosiers mentioned we might meet some interesting figures today," he said, his voice full of the casual arrogance that came naturally to him. "People who might prove useful in the future."

"They're not wrong," Walburga added, smoothing down her perfectly pressed robes. "I heard a few of them specialize in blood magic. Ancient stuff."

Cornelius looked both intrigued and a little nervous. "You mean the kind of people who could... I don't know... kill you with a single incantation?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Ernesh said, his voice calm but cutting. "They're far more subtle than that. They wouldn't waste time with something as dramatic as instant death."

Tom smirked at that, his gaze lingering on Ernesh. "It's the long games that matter, after all."

They continued down the winding streets until they reached a grand, secluded manor on the edge of the village. This was where the real business of the day would take place: a gathering of some of the most influential figures in the dark magic community. The Rosiers had pulled strings to get their young guests an invitation, knowing it would be an excellent opportunity for them to learn—and impress.

The manor's interior was dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of burning incense and old parchment. Hooded figures moved silently through the halls, while others—less secretive—mingled in small groups, their conversations hushed but intense. Tom and Ernesh immediately drew attention as they entered, their matching elegance and commanding presence making them stand out among the crowd.

One older witch with piercing gray eyes approached them almost immediately, her gaze lingering on Ernesh. "You're one of the Rosier's guests," she said, her tone somewhere between a statement and a question. "But you... you're something more, aren't you?"