VII - LIGHT AND SHADOW
~O~
And lastly there is the oldest and deepest desire,
the Great Escape: the Escape from Death.
- J. R. R. Tolkien.
~O~
Amused, Tom watched as Orion stared intensely at his parchment, never raising his head to stare thoughtfully into the air as he would do normally while working on his essay. It was so obvious that the young Black was still upset after their last, more intimate conversation.
He had suspected for some time that Orion was unknowingly attracted to men, and while he himself was completely indifferent to the forms that sexual inclinations might take, he was only too aware that he lived in a conservative society that would not tolerate such things. It was an amusing game. He had not been alone with Orion since the conversation, but whenever they met he touched him as if by chance, only briefly, always in such a way that no intention could be assumed, and his young follower, with almost ridiculous predictability, turned red every time and tremblingly walked away. It was an advantage that his appearance could enchant women and men alike.
"What's so funny?"
Slowly, Tom turned his head to the left, where Hermione was sitting beside him at the big table in the common room. He thought that, like Orion, she was engrossed in her essays, but of course, she never let him out of her sight. And of course, she saw the change in his face, hardly noticeable to others. He really had to put more effort into keeping his facial features under control again. He had become sloppy after years when no one had even thought that he could wear a mask.
He leaned over to her until his shoulder touched hers. "I'll tell you about that some other time when we're alone, my heart," he whispered to her, without turning his gaze away from Orion, who, as expected, wore a slight pink shimmer on his cheeks.
Smiling, he reached for Hermione's cheek and pulled her into a long kiss, all without taking his eyes off the young Slytherin. The pink turned to red and suddenly Orion closed the book in front of him, jumped up and fled the common room. Laughing, Tom broke away from Hermione.
"What have you done to him?" Hermione demanded to know quietly, while the rest of the students in the room looked after the fifth-year student, shaking their heads.
"You'd better ask what he's doing to himself," returned Tom with a grin. "I can hardly answer for his... ideas."
Thoughtfully, she tilted her head while her arms were folded on the table. Finally, she gave a resigned sounding sigh. "Who would have thought that you of all people would find something like this amusing?"
With feigned innocence, Tom raised both eyebrows. "Such a thing? And what do you mean, me of all people?"
Puffing, she looked him straight in the eyes. "Please, shall I really spell it out? You are as full of prejudice as I have ever seen anyone be."
Carefully, Tom made sure to show a neutral expression on his face before he said in an absolutely objective voice, "I have no prejudices. I judge people on their abilities and assign everyone their objective position."
Her face darkened. "Objective, eh? Then why do you use terms like Mudblood that are really anything but objective?"
"Do you really want to have a discussion about Mudbloods right now? You, as Slytherin? In public?" he returned.
He wished he knew what was going on in her head. Of course, he had called her a Mudblood, even if that was not quite correct in the usual usage of the term, since she was a Halfblood. But it made no difference to him, she carried impure blood inside her, whether she was half or whole.
Just like he himself. His Muggle father had defiled the honour of his family when he seduced his mother, and that he dropped her after that only aggravated his crime. But it was no use getting worked up about it. His father had already paid. He should not waste any more energy in anger at him. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in disgust.
"We can go somewhere else if you're uncomfortable," Hermione shot back, obviously provoked by him. "Just as you like."
"You are a member of the House of Slytherin," Tom explained patiently and emphatically as he put aside his thoughts of his father and remembered why he did not fall into the categories of Pureblood or Mudblood. "Our founder, Salazar Slytherin, had nothing but contempt for Muggle and Muggleborns. Your tolerance is totally out of place in this house."
To his confusion, a wicked grin appeared on Hermione's face. "So? Do you really believe that? Do you really believe that Slytherin refused to accept Muggleborns out of contempt?"
Tom was only too aware that by now all eyes and ears were on their conversation. An almost uncontrollable rage rose up in him. What was Hermione trying to do? Was she trying to embarrass him in front of everyone again? After she had offered herself as a partner only yesterday? She had to know she would never succeed in it.
But the very fact that she tried made him so angry. He was the heir to Slytherin. He knew better than anyone how Slytherin thought and acted! Who was she to meet him with such arrogance? He would show her what it meant to doubt him. His fingers closed around his wand. He would...
"Come," Hermione's soft voice suddenly tore him out of his rage, and he felt her small fingers resting reassuringly on his hand that had just taken the wand. "Let's continue talking somewhere else."
So she was uncomfortable speaking of pure and impure blood in front of other Slytherin students. His anger disappeared and gave way to a feeling of condescending arrogance. She was so easy to see through, so easy to manipulate. Who was she trying to prove something to with her stupid words? If she really believed she was right, she would not shy away from the audience here. So her thoughts had no meaning.
As if he cared whether she would make a fool of herself here in public or not. But he knew he was her boyfriend and as a gentleman, he submitted to the will and emotional outbursts of the woman. He would spare her the shame and submit to her as his classmates expected from their role model.
"With pleasure, my heart," he said loud enough that everyone heard it. "Let us take a walk to the lake, there no one but me will hear your thoughts and my feelings for you will prevent me from meeting you with anything but love and openness. Our schoolmates here would certainly be less merciful."
"That's right, Tom," replied Hermione, who obviously had difficulty suppressing a laugh. "You hit the nail on the head."
He looked down at her sceptically, but as she did nothing but smile mildly at him, he let the matter drop. Once they were outside and undisturbed, he could still figure out what her comment meant. With a slight bow he rose, moved her chair back to make it easier for her to get up, and then went to fetch the coats for both of them. No one was to say that Tom Riddle was a bad boyfriend.
Hermione was silent as they walked down the path to the lake. A smile played around the corners of her mouth as if she had to force herself not to laugh out loud. It cost Tom all his self-control to walk beside her calmly, not to reach for his wand and let her feel how much her arrogance bothered him. Why was she suddenly so arrogant towards him anyway - and then on this subject where nobody but himself could have any idea?
"Well, Tom," Hermione finally said, after they arrived at the crossroads for the walk around the lake, "Do you really think Salazar Slytherin acted out of contempt for Muggles when he resisted taking Muggleborns into Hogwarts?"
He forced himself to take a deep breath. She did not know what she was talking about and he should not let her ignorance provoke him like that. He answered her smile. "Your question already answers itself. Why else would he have refused Mudbloods at Hogwarts?"
With measured steps, Hermione took the path less travelled to the left. She swayed her head back and forth as if she was thinking about something, but Tom knew she was just stalling. He moved closer to her and offered her his arm. "My dear, I have no problem bending to your whims, but please understand that on this point I am right."
She took his arm, but the look she cast at him from the side was icy. "Never do that, Tom. Never insult me by agreeing with me for reasons other than rational ones. It is a despicable, chauvinistic gesture for a man to bend to a woman's will just because she seems emotionally agitated and irrational to him. And you would only be offending yourself. If you have a better argument, make it. Nothing else I accept and nothing else you should accept."
He calmly returned her gaze. He thought he knew women. But as in many other things, Hermione Dumbledore proved to function quite differently from others of her sex. That she gave such high importance to the judgments of reason sent a strange electricity through his body. It was so different from himself. And at the same time, he discovered so much in her that he valued about himself.
Shaking his head, Tom ended the thought process. Hermione was an interesting witch, powerful and obviously well-read, with useful connections and amazing willpower. But as much as she thought she could be his partner, he knew she could never hold a candle to him. He should not even waste his thoughts on this possibility.
"Then I don't want to offend you, my heart," he finally said playfully, before continuing more seriously, "You wanted rational arguments, I'll give them to you. Salazar Slytherin recognized that the Muggles are weak and that the Mudbloods carry their weakness within them. He wanted to keep the blood of the wizards pure so that our strength would not diminish over the centuries. We wizards are born powerful and should not be allowed to fall into the same ranks as the Muggles."
"And on that point, you are mistaken," Hermione calmly explained.
Sighing, he patted her arm. "With all due respect, my heart, but which of us has been a member of the House of Slytherin for over six years?"
"With all due respect, dearest," she returned in an annoyingly perfect imitation of his words, "But you never seem to have had a conversation with Professor Binns, otherwise you'd know what I'm talking about."
"Binns?" That ancient professor was the last person he would talk to about anything. As much as he enjoyed history of magic in the first year, he soon realised that Binns had absolutely no interest in teaching his students anything. Why would Hermione speak to him of all people?
"Yes, Professor Binns," she emphasised in a know-it-all manner that immediately upset Tom. But she did not give him time to react and continued, "He may not be a good teacher, but he knows more about the past times than anyone else. You just have to listen to him. Be that as it may. Do you know at what juncture exactly the feud between the founders of Hogwarts escalated?"
Tom swallowed. He wanted nothing more than to close both his hands around Hermione's slender neck and finally silence her forever. But he forced himself to remain calm. He knew he was right about this, so he could just listen to her and then lecture her. He took a deep breath. "Enlighten me."
"As the witch hunt reached its peak. We all know that real wizards and witches can protect themselves so that they remain untouched by fire, but the fear of magic has never been as bad as it was almost a thousand years ago. And why was that?"
Tom moved his head from shoulder to shoulder. This instructive tone was unbearable. He ran his free hand through his hair. "It was the Dark Ages after all. People were superstitious."
Hermione snorted. "What a qualified answer from a young wizard just before graduation. Honestly, Tom. The problem, of course, was that the Muggles knew that there were witches and wizards. They knew that magic could not exist, but the use of magic was so uncontrolled that there were too many flashy wizards. Even the slightest hint that there were powers they couldn't understand scared the hell out of the Muggles."
"Quite right," Tom interjected, but Hermione seemed to ignore him.
"Salazar Slytherin did not trust Muggleborns because with every wizard and witch of Muggle decent admitted to Hogwarts, the number of Muggles who actually know of our existence increases. He didn't want the secret of our existence to actually come out."
Tom stopped. It was true; in fact, he had read something similar in the stories about Slytherin. Why had he never noticed that? Why had he never thought about it? A tremor gripped him. He let go of Hermione's arm and took a step back. "Why didn't he want to?"
Hermione shrugged. "He's a little too dead for us to ask. I can only guess. But I reckon he's realised the world's a better place if Muggles don't know about us. If we don't have to live at war with them. Because, sadly, it's a universal human trait to fear that which they do not understand and which can destroy them. And unlike the other three founders, he understood the responsibility that comes with power. Muggles are not ready to learn about magic, so everything must be done to keep them ignorant. It's the only way to protect them."
"Protect them?" Tom felt his anger rise. "Protect them? Do you honestly think Slytherin wanted to protect Muggle?"
Again, she shrugged, but her expression became uncertain. "I don't know. I really don't know."
Before Tom could hold on, he burst out laughing. She almost threw him off his game, almost made him think maybe she knew more than he did. Grinning, he put one hand on her shoulder. "The last thing Slytherin wanted was to protect the Muggles from us. Trust me. This one thing I know with absolute certainty."
He could not tell her about the Chamber, of course, but he knew the monster's original purpose had been to defend the castle against Muggles. Slytherin wanted to kill Muggles, not protect him.
"You know, Tom," Hermione said slowly as she walked towards him and put her hands on his chest. There was a strange sparkle in her eyes. "If Slytherin did not want to protect Muggle from us, why didn't he take the easy way, which was always open to him? It would be so easy for us to show the Muggles our magic and subjugate them. Why don't we just use our magic to become masters of the world?"
