Both obsessed/Tom Riddle (completed)

044. He wants a war? He'll get it

The morning after the blood-soaked ritual in the Chamber of Secrets, Tom and Ernesh emerged from the labyrinthine depths with a sense of purpose. The giant serpent, the Basilisk, slithered beside them momentarily before disappearing into the shadows of the chamber. Ernesh whispered something in Parseltongue, and the creature responded with a low, menacing hiss that sent shivers down his spine.

Tom smirked. "She likes you," he commented, his tone amused as he watched the brief interaction.

Ernesh, still charged from the intensity of the morning, gave a small smile but kept close to Tom, his dark green eyes darting around the corridors as they climbed their way out of the Chamber. They didn't talk much. Words weren't necessary. Ernesh's hand was on Tom's wrist, holding onto him as if any distance between them was unbearable.

Once above ground, they made their way toward the Black Lake. The crisp air outside was a stark contrast to the humid, oppressive atmosphere of the Chamber, but it did little to distract Ernesh. His thoughts still swirled with obsessive devotion to Tom, every fiber of his being dedicated to the man who had claimed him so completely.

The two passed several students lounging near the banks of the lake, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Ernesh felt an involuntary flicker of annoyance at the presence of others, but Tom, with his usual cool demeanor, ignored them entirely. Instead, he guided Ernesh toward a darker, more secluded part of the lake, where the shadow of the Forbidden Forest crept toward the water's edge.

They didn't speak as they walked. They didn't need to. Tom occasionally glanced over at Ernesh, and each time, Ernesh would meet his gaze with a look of unwavering adoration.

As they reached the forested area, they caught sight of a group of centaurs passing through the trees, their hooves barely making a sound against the forest floor. The sight was mesmerizing, almost otherworldly, and even Tom seemed to pause for a moment to watch them. Ernesh clung to his arm, his snake-like tongue flicking out as he tasted the magic in the air.

Eventually, they reached the edge of the Black Lake. The water here was darker, the surface shimmering faintly with an unnatural light. They sat down, hidden from view by the thick trees surrounding them.

Tom pulled Ernesh close, his fingers tangling in the boy's hair. Ernesh shivered at the touch, his body responding instinctively. The intensity of the previous night's ritual still lingered in him, and the sensation of Tom's fingers running through his hair was enough to drive him to the brink.

Without hesitation, Ernesh leaned in, their lips colliding in a frenzied kiss. It wasn't soft or gentle—it was desperate, hungry, filled with the kind of obsession that bordered on madness. Ernesh climbed onto Tom's lap, his hands gripping his shoulders as he deepened the kiss.

Tom allowed it, though he controlled the pace, pulling back just enough to keep Ernesh wanting more. Ernesh whimpered, his dark green eyes filled with need, but Tom smirked and placed a finger against his lips.

"Patience," Tom murmured, his voice low and commanding.

Ernesh obeyed, though his body trembled with the effort. They sat for a while, sipping tea that Tom had conjured with a flick of his wand. The silence between them was comfortable, though Ernesh's eyes rarely left Tom's face.

As they sat, Ernesh started to feel a faint dizziness creeping over him. He brushed it aside, attributing it to the intensity of his emotions. Leaning against Tom, he closed his eyes, letting the world blur around him.

The sound of footsteps behind them broke the tranquility. Ernesh's eyes snapped open, and his wand was in his hand before he could think. He turned, his gaze sharp and predatory.

"What do you want?" Ernesh hissed, his voice laced with venom.

Tom stood, his wand already drawn, his expression calm but deadly. Ernesh stayed close to him, his eyes narrowing as he saw who had approached.

It was Dumbledore.

The older wizard looked at them with a mix of disappointment and something darker—something closer to disdain. "I know what you are, Ernesh," Dumbledore said, his tone cold. "You're an animal. A creature of pure instinct. You don't belong anywhere."

Ernesh's grip on his wand tightened, his fangs bared. But before he could speak, Dumbledore raised his wand, casting a spell that hit Ernesh square in the chest.

Ernesh stumbled forward, pain radiating through him. But instead of falling, the spell seemed to absorb into him, the energy dissipating harmlessly. Dumbledore's eyes widened in shock.

Tom's smirk returned, and he stepped forward, his wand aimed directly at Dumbledore. "You forget," Tom said, his voice dripping with malice, "that Ernesh is no ordinary wizard. He's a spell-born, a child of pure magic. You can't kill him. But I—"

Before Tom could finish his sentence, Dumbledore evaporated, disappearing in a swirl of magic that left the air humming.

Tom lowered his wand, his expression dark. "So," he muttered, more to himself than to Ernesh, "Dumbledore wants a war." He turned to Ernesh, his hand brushing against his hair, sending a shiver down the boy's spine. "He'll get one."

Tom cast a Patronus charm, sending the silvery serpent toward his knights to summon them.

Ernesh, still reeling from the encounter, leaned against Tom, his hands clutching his robes. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions—rage, devotion, and an overwhelming need to protect what was his.

"Let him try," Ernesh whispered, his voice steady despite the chaos inside him. "Let him try to take you from me. I'll kill anyone who tries."

Tom looked down at him, his smirk softening into something darker, more possessive. "Good," he said simply, his fingers tangling in Ernesh's hair once more. "Because I expect nothing less from you, my love."

...