II - MAELSTROM OF EMOTIONS

~O~

"The world is a dangerous place,

not because of those who do evil,

but because of those who look on

and do nothing."

- Albert Einstein.

~O~

Hermione made no effort to look impressed or frightened. She was sure that everyone else before her had shown one emotion or another when Tom opened the secret door to the Chamber of Secrets in Parseltongue, but she would not be one of them. She knew the chamber existed. She knew how to get inside and she knew what it looked like from the inside. She had already seen the basilisk, had been petrified by it after finding out all about the monster of the chamber. Nothing would be able to shock her more about this place.

And it would bug Tom that she could be so unimpressed.

"After you," Tom said, grinning broadly and pointing to the pipe that led directly into the underground cave system. She was sure he was expecting her to say no. But he was wrong: she knew exactly what was waiting for her down there, accordingly she was not afraid.

"But don't dawdle!" she replied teasingly, before pluckily jumping into the darkness. She would have loved to see his face, but she would have to wait until he followed her before she would know his reaction. It had been less than three months ago when she had walked the same path with Ron, had also slipped down that wet, slimy tube into the darkness to retrieve the tooth of the then very dead basilisk so they could destroy another Horcrux. It seemed to her like another time - which, strictly speaking, it was.

Once downstairs, she quickly uttered a Scourgify to rid herself of all the slime and grime she picked up on her slide. It only took a few seconds before Tom came out of the tube and landed in front of her with an elegant leap that showed her he had taken this route many times before. To her surprise, he was completely clean.

"You're surprisingly unfazed by all this," he said with a scowl after giving them a little light with a Lumos.

"I'm sorry nothing can shock me anymore where you are concerned," she replied with a grin as she took his arm. Again and again, Hermione noticed how much she enjoyed teasing and provoking Tom Riddle. Certainly, she had learned by now that it was a dangerous game, as you could never be sure when you would suddenly say something completely wrong and turn him into the monster full of hate and anger. But it was exactly this danger that she liked.

Tom started moving and led her unerringly through the labyrinth of underground passages. Apparently, however, he was unwilling to drop the subject. "You're not surprised in the least that there is this tunnel system under Hogwarts?"

She shrugged. "I've only been here two months, Tom. How much can I know about the castle already? I certainly haven't been to every nook and cranny. It's a castle for wizards and witches, of course there will be various secrets and hidden rooms and passages that hardly anyone knows about."

Still, he was displeased and Hermione guessed where that was coming from. He was the only one who knew about the chamber - except probably the few he had initiated - and he wanted to brag about it to her. She had to suppress a giggle.

"This is different," he spat at her sharply, "Hogwarts has many secrets, but this ... this is so well kept that even the teachers don't know about it!"

There he was again, the Tom who thought he was special but could not stand it when others around him did not confirm it for him. Grinning, she patted his arm. "It's okay, Tom, I get it. You know this school better than anyone and you know more than our professors."

His grip on her arm tightened. "Are you really trying to provoke me here, my heart? Down here, deep under Hogwarts, where no one knows where you are? No one knows you were here with me?"

Smiling, she looked up at him. "Oh, Tom. I'm just teasing you. Do you really expect me to be like Miss Parkinson and think everything that comes out of your mouth is the revelation of Merlin?"

A wry grin appeared on his face. "She is indeed a little too enthusiastic at times. And that's despite the fact that she doesn't even know my blood status."

Keeping her eyes on the ground so as not to accidentally trip over one of the many bumps, Hermione replied, "It seems everyone in Slytherin suspects you are destined for greatness. And as we snakes are wont to do, we want to get in good with you so we can have our chess pieces in place for after Hogwarts."

Arriving in front of a large, stone door, Tom paused. "You speak of us snakes when of all of us you had the least interest in getting on my good side."

Playfully she placed a hand on his chest. "Who knows? Maybe it was all my elaborate plan to wrap you around my finger? I mean, after we ... got to know each other better, I'm closer to you than anyone else."

Briefly, Tom's gaze hardened as he regarded her thoughtfully, but then he shook his head dismissively. "I think not. If there's one thing you can't do, it's lie and pretend anything to me. Your hatred for me was and is real. If either of us has the other wrapped around our finger, it's me."

In reply, Hermione only raised an eyebrow. Of course, she was a Gryffindor through and through and it was hard for her not to show her emotions openly. But when one put all the pieces of the puzzle together, it was clear that in the end, she was the winner. It had not been her plan from the beginning, but quite quickly, to get close to Tom. And she had succeeded, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

"So, how do we open this door?" she finally asked, trying to get off the subject.

"The same way we did in the toilet," Tom replied, who then turned to the door and opened his mouth to give the command again on Parseltongue.

But Hermione interrupted him instantly, put a hand on his arm and said sweetly, "May I try?"

She did not know if she would succeed, after all she was no Parselmouth, but if Ron had succeeded in imitating Harry's words, perhaps she would manage the same. Disparagingly, Tom looked down at her. "Please, go ahead. I doubt you'll succeed, though."

In her mind, Hermione went over the sounds she had heard from both Tom and Ron until she was sure she had a rough idea of how to move her tongue and mouth to imitate the Parseltongue words. Thoughtfully she opened her mouth, pronouncing the hissing sounds as she said, "Open up" in her mind.

The snakes that kept the door closed started to move.

"You are a Parselmouth." Tom's voice was calm, but there was a dangerous, icy coldness in it as his gaze was intense on her.

Hermione shook her head. "No. I merely remembered what you said before."

For a long moment Tom looked at her, his expression impenetrable, one hand resting on her shoulder. Only the distinct throbbing of a vein on his neck told Hermione that he was under obvious tension right now. Was he considering killing her here and now for her insubordination? She forced herself to keep breathing calmly so as not to let her fear show.

"You must never come here alone, Hermione," he finally said very, very quietly, "You can open the entrances, but you must not come here alone, do you understand?"

A hot shiver ran down her spine. Tom's eyes lit up and the tone of his voice was dark as he stared at her insistently. He did not need to tell her not to come here alone, after all, there was a basilisk dwelling here that could only be controlled by the heir. Did he take it as an affront to his honour that she could open the doors?

"It's not that inviting here that I necessarily want to come here alone," she replied nonchalantly.

Instantly Tom's hand tightened on her shoulder. "I mean it, Hermione. You will not come here alone, that is an order. If you know what is good for your health, you will obey me."

The thought had been so far-fetched that Hermione would never have thought of it, but Tom's words now made his motive clear. She blinked several times in confusion as she tried to process this new realisation.

"You're worried about me?" she finally spoke out what formed very slowly in her mind. The words seemed foreign, leaving her mouth almost without her doing anything. Her mind was frozen.

The tension in Tom's body grew, but his voice sounded normal again as he replied, "You could die here alone, Hermione. You belong to me. Your life is mine. If you die, it will be because I have decided so. You have no right to risk your life without my consent. Do you understand that? No one has the right to end your life but me."

When he put it like that, it actually suited his character. But the strange feeling that had gripped her would not let Hermione go. Tom had told her several times that he considered her his property, and he had also made it clear several times that he would not allow anyone but him to harm her. Until now she had always taken that as a rather psychopathic form of possessiveness, but the way he presented himself to her here and now changed that.

"I understand," she replied seriously, placing a hand on his cheek, "I promise you I won't come here alone."

Slowly Tom straightened up again, accompanied by a sigh that Hermione involuntarily interpreted as relief. He lapsed again into the role of the charming young man and held out his arm to her, which she accepted without hesitation, and together they strode into the vast hall of the Chamber of Secrets.

But as normal as Tom was now pretending to be, Hermione sensed that something once again changed in their relationship. Tom had shown weakness. Before, when Avery had almost raped her, his anger and possessiveness had really only grown out of someone else seeing her weak side and her tears. That had bothered him, that had actually only grown out of his excessive ego focus. His concern for her life now, however, had a different origin. It was not that no other person should harm her, but that Tom was afraid of her dying.

Silently she walked beside him. She wondered if Tom himself realised what he had just revealed. She could not shake the feeling that subconsciously he actually realised that his concern for her had different origins than before. That was probably also the reason for his immense tension. That part of his ego that always filtered his perception of the world to fit his world view had to fight hard to keep the truth from his conscious mind. His foundations had been shaken by the realisation that he did not want to lose her. A narcissist's self-confidence always stood on pillars of clay anyway, more than prone to crumble at first contact with reality.

Thoughtfully, Hermione let her gaze wander over the walls and pillars of the chamber. She had wanted to get closer to Tom Riddle for her mission. She had hoped to gain his trust, to find out a weakness they could use in the future. Now she had come much closer to him than she had ever thought, now she had awakened something akin to feelings in him. But there was still not much sign of trust. How much closer did she have to get to him to finally find a weakness that had remained hidden from others?

And something else worried her. The fact that he did not want her dead, that Tom Riddle actually cared about her life, made her feel guilty. After all, she did not reciprocate those feelings; on the contrary, all her actions were aimed at killing him in the end. Inwardly, she shook her head. She would save the lives of all her friends with Tom's death. She would help Harry, avenge Dumbledore's death, and do a service to the wizarding community of England. Voldemort in the future had nothing to do with this Tom Riddle here. When she would see him again in the future, he would already be a different man.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Tom stopped and spread his arms. Only now did Hermione realise that they had walked the entire hall. She looked up at him expectantly as Tom spun around once, obviously proud, as if the chamber was his creation.

"Welcome," he announced loudly, "to the Chamber of Secrets."