Both obsessed/Tom Riddle (completed)

046. Started

The summer air around Malfoy Manor carried a tension that crackled like a storm on the horizon. The sprawling estate, surrounded by lush, dark woods, served as a safe haven and war headquarters for Tom, now fully embracing the title of Lord Voldemort, and his knights. Inside, the halls were alive with quiet planning, hushed whispers, and the occasional laughter of those who felt confident in their inevitable victory.

Ernesh, ever at Tom's side, had grown more restless with the school year's end. The thrill of bloodshed, the taste of vengeance, and the energy of battle were far more sustaining than the mundanity of planning, yet he played his part well.

The families of Slytherins who had pledged their allegiance to Voldemort were now deeply entrenched in the cause, offering wealth, power, and connections to bolster their growing forces. The Hufflepuffs, often underestimated, served as excellent spies—no one questioned their innocence, making them the perfect agents to infiltrate the Order.

One afternoon, as Tom sat in the grand drawing room with his knights and Ernesh, an owl arrived. The black-feathered creature dropped a parchment onto the mahogany table, and Tom unfolded it with a deliberate calmness.

The letter was from Dumbledore.

Tom,
Retreat. You still have a choice. This path you walk will bring you nothing but ruin. There is still good in you turn back while you can.
- Albus Dumbledore

Tom's eyes darkened as he read the words, his grip tightening on the parchment. The audacity of the man to think he could dictate terms, especially after what had happened to Ernesh. His anger simmered just beneath the surface, but his voice remained smooth as he read the letter aloud to the room.

When he finished, the room erupted in low, derisive laughter. Ernesh, seated next to Tom, hissed softly under his breath, his sharp green eyes glinting with malice.

"Retreat?" Abraxas Malfoy sneered, lounging in a nearby chair. "Dumbledore underestimates us. He thinks his pitiful Order can challenge us?"

"He forgets," Tom said coldly, "that they already failed. They tried to kill Ernesh, and they failed." His hand moved to rest possessively on Ernesh's shoulder, his fingers trailing idly along the curve of his neck. "And now, they will pay for it."

Ernesh leaned into the touch, his gaze sharpening. "They'll pay in blood, Marvolo," he murmured, using the name reserved for meetings, the one that cemented Tom's place as their leader. "Let me take it from them. Let me take everything."

Tom's smirk widened, his hand moving up to tangle in Ernesh's dark hair. "Patience, my lovely. Tonight, you'll have your fill."

That night, as the moon hung high in the sky, Tom and his knights executed their plan. An ambush had been meticulously crafted, targeting half of Dumbledore's forces. The attack was ruthless and efficient, leaving no room for error.

The dark woods near the Malfoy estate became a battlefield. Spells flew through the air, illuminating the night in bursts of red, green, and gold.

Screams echoed as the knights descended upon the unsuspecting Order members. Ernesh was at the forefront, his serpent-like reflexes making him nearly impossible to hit. His fangs glinted in the moonlight as he tore into one after another, savoring the warm taste of blood as it coated his tongue.

The Gryffindors fell first, their bravery no match for the calculated brutality of Tom's forces. The Ravenclaws tried to strategize, but their logic faltered under the sheer chaos. By the end of the ambush, most of the Order lay dead, their blood soaking into the forest floor. Those who survived were driven mad by the sights they had witnessed, their minds unraveling under the weight of dark magic.

When it was over, the knights gathered in a clearing, their victory absolute. Ernesh stood near Tom, his lips stained red with blood, his chest rising and falling with exhilaration. The raw meat and blood from the fight had awakened something primal in him, and he couldn't stop himself from devouring more.

The Order's corpses became his feast, and the knights stood back, watching in silent awe as the creature they followed fed.

Tom leaned against a tree, his arms crossed as he observed Ernesh with a mixture of pride and amusement. "What a magnificent creature you are," he murmured, his voice low enough that only Ernesh could hear.

Ernesh paused, glancing back at Tom with those gleaming green eyes, his mouth curved into a wicked smile. "All for you, Marvolo," he whispered, his voice thick with devotion.

By the time they returned to Malfoy Manor, the sun was beginning to rise. The knights were in high spirits, their victory solidifying their belief in Tom's leadership. Ernesh, still riding the high of the battle, was almost feral in his energy, clinging to Tom as they entered their shared quarters.

As they lay in bed, Ernesh curled against Tom, his hands roaming possessively over his chest and arms. "They can't touch us," he murmured sleepily, his voice muffled against Tom's neck.

"No," Tom agreed, his fingers tracing patterns along Ernesh's spine. "They can't."

But even as Ernesh drifted off, his body relaxed in Tom's arms, Tom's mind raced. This was only the beginning. Dumbledore had declared war by sending that letter, and Tom intended to finish it.

Let them come. He would destroy them all. For Ernesh. For their future. For the world he intended to build.

...