"Have you ever considered the question of the nature of man?"
Slowly, Hermione looked up from her essay. She was sitting at one of the tables in the small library that adjoined the Slytherin common room, working her way through the Arithmancy assignment they had been given as homework today. Tom had let their classmates know that he would like to use the small library by himself today, and after both Abraxas as well as Lestrange and Avery had left the room without a murmur, the other students actually left them alone. It was amazing how quickly everyone took for granted that Tom could make such demands. For the umpteenth time, Hermione wondered if Tom would have had such an easy time of it without the support of influential wizards like Abraxas Malfoy.
She put her quill carefully aside and looked up at Tom, who was standing by one of the shelves, his back turned to her, leafing through a book. He had been silent for the last half hour, which was unusual when they were alone, but it gave her a chance to do her homework in peace.
"Many times," she replied truthfully, "Especially since I've known you."
He made no move to turn to her but stopped flicking through the book. "Oh, is that so? Why?"
Unconsciously, Hermione played with a strand of her curly hair. "You make me feel like you have a very clear picture of what people are like. In essence. And it seems that this image is not positive. You've already spoken several times about your blood, about the difference between wizards and Muggles, about what elevates you above other wizards. You have spoken of chains of morality that prevent us from using our full potential. The many things I've heard from your mouth add up to a picture that paints us humans as stupid creatures, afraid to use our power - if we have any."
Now she had his attention. He closed the book and put it back on the shelf before approaching her at the table. "Razor-sharp observation as always, my dear. But the question was not what I think about the nature of man - but you! What is your view?"
He had both hands propped up on the table in front of her and was eyeing her intently from above. Obvious, genuine interest sparkled in his eyes. Instantly Hermione realised that this conversation could be her key to learning more from Tom about his plans. She was sure that he regarded all other people, whether wizards or Muggles, as nothing more than an uneducated mass that he, as an eminently intelligent wizard, had to lead. If she could convince him that she thought similarly, who knew what he would do?
She dug into her memories. What had she experienced that might reflect badly on her fellow man? She knew brave, selfless wizards like Harry who were willing to sacrifice truly anything to be of service to the community. She knew very average wizards like Ron, who knew fear and were plagued by self-doubt, but who could rise above themselves in moments when it mattered. They were all proof that the wizarding community was made up of many strong individuals.
Even as she pondered this thought, however, various counter-examples came to mind. Cornelius Fudge, the former Minister of Magic, was the best example of what could happen when a weak man got power. And yet another, very recent circumstance suddenly crept into her consciousness.
She was silent for a moment, trying to sort out her thoughts, then she folded her hands carefully on the table and returned Tom's gaze with equal firmness. "Many people, whether wizards or Muggles, are weak. So weak that power in their hands can only do evil. We had a powerful politician in our wizarding community. I don't know how he came to power, but he was not competent. The longer he was in office, the more obvious it became that all his actions were only for the purpose of keeping his position. Instead of dealing with criminals or accepting obvious truths, he pressured the newspapers to present a peaceful, harmless image of the community, when we really had ... real dangers within our ranks. The whole thing failed dramatically because at some point the criminals came out in the open. Had he not tried everything to cover up their existence, they could never have become so powerful. Instead, it almost ended in a disaster with many deaths. That was ... a while ago, but for me it was an explicit warning that weak people should never be given power."
At the memory of the smear campaign Fudge had run against Harry and Dumbledore, hot anger boiled up inside Hermione again. So much could have gone differently, could have gone better, if he had not been so stubborn and stupid. She forced herself not to get emotional, but to focus entirely on her current present. "Or take Germany. Clearly there's something about Hitler that captivates people. But you can't seriously tell me that no politician in the world in any country has come up with the idea that he could be dangerous. Do world leaders really want to tell us that they didn't suspect long ago that Germany's provocations would amount to war? But here, too, these weak people in powerful positions have failed. They did as the ostrich did and buried their heads in the sand because they were afraid to speak an unpleasant truth in public. We as wizards, as students at this wonderful school, we don't get to hear about the war, but I'm sure for the Muggles it's cruel and terrible."
She interrupted herself. It was dangerous to talk about this war, she knew too much about it from her history books, too much that could not be known at this point in time, in 1944. Silently, she kept eye contact with Tom, who in turn looked at her with absolutely no emotion. Slowly he straightened up again and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You're interested in politics, huh? I should have guessed that. You've proven before that you're an unusual woman, so of course you're interested in the field that, more than any other, is reserved for men."
Angrily, Hermione clenched her fists. As if gender was the deciding factor in whether one was interested in politics or not. But before she could launch into a sharp retort, Tom continued, "That's all very well. They are interesting stories. But you still haven't answered my question: What do you think about the nature of human beings?"
She swallowed her anger. At the end of the day, she was still in 1944, when ideas about gender equality just were not that well established. She should accept it and focus on her real job instead. Standing before her was Tom Riddle and depending on her answer, it was possible that she would become closer to him, not on a personal level, but as a comrade in his fight for world domination.
An icy shiver ran down her spine. The thought of possibly being truly recognised by Tom as an equal partner, as a comrade-in-arms, was frightening. Frightening because it was so exciting. Did she have what it took to stand at Tom Riddle's side?
She chose her words carefully. "People are weak. We need the community to feel strong. But every community needs someone to lead it. That is the great paradox of our humanity. Our humanity, the core of our being, is weakness. We are determined by fear, always driven by the goal of self-preservation. Certainly, we are capable of empathy and compassion, these are also central aspects of our being. But when push comes to shove, we would do anything to save our own lives. We choose to do what everyone else is doing because when we are one with the crowd, we feel safe. We are willing to submit to a leader as long as he guarantees us safety. But how can a human being lead others? If our humanity is, at its core, that we are weak, fear-driven, only sometimes empathic beings - how can such a person be a leader?"
Briefly, she paused to re-sort her thoughts. Should she go so far and actually say what was going through her head? Would Tom be offended by her words? She studied his face attentively, but still nothing in it betrayed what he was really thinking. Only that he was curious about her views was obvious. She cursed him for being so good at controlling his emotions.
She took a deep breath. She would put all her eggs in one basket. If he liked what she said, she convinced him of her, that was for sure. If not ... she could think about that when she knew his answer. Slowly, her gaze still fixed stubbornly on him, she continued. "That is precisely the paradox of the human being. We need a leader. And to be able to lead humanity, one must renounce one's own humanity. One has to stop being weak, to stop feeling pity. One must be able to make unpopular decisions. One must have the intelligence and foresight to foresee the consequences of one's own actions, and one must have the strength to implement these actions even in the face of resistance. Only a person who gives up his weakness and empathy is capable of doing this. Only a person who gives up his humanity can do this. To be able to lead people, you have to become a monster yourself."
Tom was silent. He just kept silent, with his arms still folded in front of his chest, silent and staring down at her. Cold sweat formed on the back of Hermione's neck as she struggled to stand the silence and the stare. She simply had to show him that she had an opinion of her own and could stand by it.
Slowly, Tom unfolded his arms. Then, with steps that were almost unreal slow, he came around the table to her. Hermione's breathing quickened as her gaze continued to be held captive by his. It took an interminable amount of time before he walked the short distance to her, but with each step he took closer to her, Hermione's anxiety increased. She did not know if he would take her in his arms and kiss her, or if he would hex her into the afterlife without batting an eye. Still nothing in his face or posture betrayed how he felt about her words.
"Why?" he whispered softly when he finally came to a halt right beside her. Low, he leaned down to her and placed a hand on her cheek. "Why do you keep resisting me over and over again when you think the same way I do? Why do you have all this hatred for me when we are so similar?"
Hermione had to force herself to keep from sighing in relief. His reaction was entirely different from what she had expected, but at least he seemed to agree with her words. Nervously, she licked her lips. "I ... I don't hate you, Tom. Not anymore."
He tilted his head briefly, then moved even closer to her. "And yet you provoke me at every turn and refuse to obey me. You admit that you belong to me, yet you do not act like it. If you understand, if you really understand what human nature is like, why ..."
She interrupted him fiercely and slapped his hand away. "You think I'm just going to recognise you as my lord and master? That I'll fall in line like all the other weak people? Do you really think so badly of me? Is that really all you want from me? Blind obedience? I am yours, yes. But you're mine just the same. We're both different, Tom. We can both do things that normal people can't. I'm not one of them! I'm capable of giving up my humanity - just like you! Haven't I proven that often enough! And that's exactly what you've always wanted to provoke! You tested me at every turn to find out how far I can go! And you've seen that I can go just as far as you. So why do you still expect me to submit to you? You only feel provoked by me because you don't understand how contradictory your own actions are! I remain true to myself, no matter what you try! I am a strong witch and I will not submit to you!"
Hermione meant her last words more seriously than Tom could ever have guessed, but of course her intention was to hide the double meaning from him. What mattered was that he finally understood that he could not on the one hand teach her Dark Arts, make her a partner in a rape, and then at the same time demand that she remain a quiet, well-behaved, obedient woman. Even if she had not been Hermione Granger, the time traveller on a mission, she could not have tolerated this behaviour.
To her intemperate astonishment, a sly grin came to Tom's lips. "Oh, my sweet Hermione. You're so adorable when you're angry. I wonder if you really know yourself as well as you're pretending to here right now."
Reluctantly, she furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
Again, he placed a hand on her cheek, but there he lingered only briefly, then he moved down to her neck and let his fingers wrap loosely around her throat. Very close he brought his lips to her ear so that she could feel his breath on the nape of her neck and understand even his softly murmured words clearly. "If you are so intent on being an independent companion at my side, as strong as I am, as determined as I am, without obeying anyone but yourself ... how is it that you enjoy submitting to me so much?"
His voice grew rough as his scent swirled around her and his free hand settled on her back, "How is it that you melt with lust and desire when I take complete control? You are fooling yourself. You are only strong under my guidance. And under my guidance, you are more than willing to be weak."
Another shiver ran down Hermione's spine, but this time it was not fear that was responsible. Quite the opposite. Heat gripped her body. Tom was right.
Why did she react with arousal to his dominance?