Serpentine [T.M. Riddle]

The End

cw for terrible tom riddle fanfic trope that i succumbed to for plot reasons. also no, this isn't the end of the fic, lmao.

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The teleportation properties of the woods Balam resides in are lost to Tom in a technical sense. What sort of spell or curse or wizard could have possibly made that possible? Someone absurdly powerful. Someone like him? Like how he will be, he should say, because as capable as Tom knows he is, he knows something like that is a bit beyond his abilities. For now.

He tries asking Balam to explain but his teacher only presses his lips together and shrugs in response. "Astral plane ties, nothing to write home about." After praising Tom for being inquisitive, this feels like a polar punishment. He doesn't want to accept it. He refuses.

...Is there an answer in Balam's study? Something hidden that he doesn't want Tom to see?

The forbidden room has been a source of intrigue to him since the moment his teacher told him it was off limits to him. How could he not be intrigued? If someone, anyone, tells him that he's not allowed to do something, it only makes him want to do it more. Want it more. If it doesn't have anything on the forest, then about legilimens...

Tom knows that he has a natural penchant for it. He always knows when someone is lying to him, can accurately judge others within seconds of knowing them, and he's rather intimidating if he does say so himself. It's only a matter of practice. Clearing the mind. Focusing. Harnessing one's power.

Balam had compared it to cultivating a plant (his small greenhouse is one to be envied): pruning back stalks, pinching off leaves for new growth, preventing premature flowering. Ensuring the soil is properly mineralized and that the water is clean. The metaphor confused Tom at first (how on Earth is his mind like a plant?), before the idea of cutting away unnecessary baggage from his head came to mind. Of stepping into the right state of thinking and utilizing his skills properly in order to succeed. Not to become arrogant. It made perfect sense, then. Snip. Cut out friendships. Snip. Cut out family. Snip. Cut out distractions.

His teacher surprises him in new ways. Perhaps Tom will keep him. Not depend on him. But keep him.

He's an interesting man, his teacher. Masculine in a gentle way. Nurturing. It reminded him of a less pompous (less assuming) Slughorn. Most especially when instructing him on something new. Though he didn't often have to use it, the man's patience is endless. His presence calming. His magic electric. Thunderous. Something powerful and enrapturing. It overstimulates him when he asks to try and sense his teacher's magic after his lessons.

Much of the magical techniques Balam has been teaching him have to do with breathing exercises and being aware of his magic (a skill which comes easy to him thanks to the advice given by Ximena and Yami). Conscious of how it moves through and around his body. It's like being aware of the blood running through his veins. He never noticed it before, but now that he has, he could never ignore it. How could he dismiss something so powerful?

Balam reads his magic easily, quirking a brow as it flows over his lightly calloused hands. "Strange."

Tom mimics the brow quirk, "Strange?"

"It's black...But it's not." He presses his lips together, "Iridescent, almost. I've never seen something like it; you don't have creature blood, do you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You don't have to sound so offended." Balam snorts, "Humans...witches tend to have magicks in solid colors. Occasionally gradients. Magical beings like fae or veelas have other visuals...Creature descended peoples tend to have unique abilities like charm or shapeshifting. Do you have anything like that?"