"Are you ready?"

Hermione shut the book close. She had by no means read everything in it, but she grasped the basics and that was all she needed for the moment. It still was not clear to her how exactly she was going to travel into her innermost being, but she would at least give it a try.

"Good." Tom nodded as he rose. "We should sit on the floor together. The bed may be comfortable, but the mattress is soft and could upset your balance, which could easily pull you out of concentration. Come, just sit here in front of me."

Hermione followed his hand gesture and settled cross-legged on the floor in front of him. She did not know exactly why, but whenever she saw people meditating, they were sitting cross-legged - or at least in a similar pose. Tensely she waited for Tom to explain what exactly she was supposed to do.

"I'm going to help you. Close your eyes and breathe as regularly as you can," he said softly, just loud enough for her to hear. Without resistance, she complied with his orders. Her eyes closed, she concentrated entirely on her breathing and noticed how it became deeper and slower.

"Don't be frightened," Tom warned her gently, "I'm going to sit behind you now and put my hands on your shoulders."

She heard him walk around her and settle back down behind her, then she felt his cool hands on her shoulders. There was no tenderness in his grip, but no force either. He was not touching her to intimidate her or to tease her. It was a new, unfamiliar feeling that Tom could also be quite matter-of-fact in his dealings with her.

"Keep breathing," he whispered, his voice almost monotone, "breathe in and out. Can you hear your heart beating?"

Hermione nodded. She heard her heart beating and she heard her own breathing. Apart from the words Tom spoke softly, nothing else could be heard, but she felt herself still distracted by those few sounds.

"You will learn to ignore your heartbeat and also stop hearing your breathing, but today I will help you," he explained slowly, "I will block out the sounds for you until you hear nothing but my voice."

Hermione did not know how he did it, but suddenly she felt a tingle where his hands were, and then her heartbeat was gone and with it the sound of her breathing. He was still and she felt almost trapped in a bubble of silence. It surprised her how perfect this silence was, because even when she lay in bed at night and the surroundings fell silent, she could still hear her own breathing or the rush of blood in her ears. Now she knew what real silence was.

"Look into the blackness," Tom's still soft, still monotone voice sounded in that bubble of silence, "Look into it and look for the light. There is a light if you just look long enough."

For a long time, Hermione stared ahead with her eyes closed. How was she supposed to see anything except for the occasional coloured dots that eyes just sometimes faked? It was not as if there was actually anything between her eyes and her lids.

As if he had read her thoughts, Tom addressed her again, "You shouldn't see with your eyes, dear."

Hermione frowned in frustration. Somehow, she understood what he wanted from her, but at the same time she did not understand it at all. Of course, one could not look inside oneself with one's eyes, but how else should she do it? What was she supposed to do here?

She rolled her shoulders back and tried to stay relaxed. The cross-legged position was getting uncomfortable and Tom's hands, which had been cool on her shoulders at first, were becoming increasingly warm, uncomfortable. She lost all sense of time, but she was sure that half an hour had to have passed by now, just sitting around.

Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result was, as was well known, the definition of insanity, it eventually crossed her mind, and so Hermione decided to give up the pointless staring and take action instead. If the light Tom spoke of would not appear, she would simply imagine it.

In her mind's eye, she created a bright blue glowing orb. She imagined it to be opaque and pulsating slightly at the edges, as if the blue light were a fire that flickered leisurely. She imagined that the sphere was slowly getting bigger. Larger, until finally her entire field of vision was taken up by it. She imagined herself taking a step towards it.

"Hermione, before you..."

Seized by a searing pain, Hermione cried out, then everything went black around her.

oOoOoOo

Annoyed, Tom paced back and forth in front of Hermione's bed. He should have warned her before they got involved in this experiment. He should have told her about the source of the magic. But he had not at all expected that she would succeed in reaching it at the first attempt. For himself, it had taken hours of concentration before he had understood that he had to actively visualise his magic in order to get to it.

Of course, he had also had to struggle with blocking out his bodily noises, which had slowed down the process. And of course, he had had to make sure that this source of magic was there in the first place. He had eased Hermione's silence and she had known with absolute certainty that the source existed. Of course, that made it easier for her. Her achievement was nowhere near as impressive as his.

Still.

She proved again that she was more capable than he gave her credit for.

He wished he could read her mind to find out more about her. But it was no use trying Legilimency on an unconscious person, one would only encounter blackness. And he was not yet skilled enough at it to cast the spell silently. He knew that as open as Hermione pretended to be, if she caught on that he was trying to see into her mind against her will, all trust would be lost immediately and, worst case scenario, she would tell her so-called uncle. He could not risk that, especially since he could not be sure if he would succeed in breaking through her mental barriers. Too much risk with potentially too little result.

Would she blame him when she woke up again? Would she engage in meditation again? It would be unfair if she blamed him? What clever witch would just touch something she did not know like that?

Hermione should have known better. Obviously, it was dangerous to just reach for the source of one's magic like that, unprotected. The amount of energy that lay dormant there was immense. Her mind suffered a severe burn and apparently severed its connection to consciousness as a protective reaction to it. What did Hermione expect when she just walked up to her magic like that? How could such a clever girl be so stupid?

With a sigh, Tom settled down on her bed. Hermione looked pale, but her breathing was regular and her body warm. She was in no danger. That moment when she had cried out, obviously filled with anguish, he had worried for a blink. A cold hand had closed around his heart. Of course, he had immediately suppressed the feeling, but now, when he could do nothing but wait beside her until she woke up, he remembered it.

He had felt similar once before, not so long ago. It had been just three days ago. When Hermione showed that she could open the door to the Chamber on her own, he froze for a second. His shock instantly turned to anger and he forbade her to go there alone, as he could not allow anyone else but him to kill her. He could protect her from all dangers, he would make sure she would never die.

But he could not protect her from her own stupidity. It infuriated him that he could not control her completely. As careless as she was behaving, he would have to be with her all day every day to keep her safe from harm. Did she not realise that she was his? Did she not realise she owed it to him to take better care of herself?

Tom Riddle was not a stupid man. He knew full well that the feelings he had for Hermione were different. Dangerous. When he had first kissed her so many weeks ago, he had wanted to determine if he could control his lust for her. Whether his mind would be befuddled by physical intimacy with her. At the time he had been able to answer that very confidently in the negative. He had since learned that that was not the whole truth.

The whole truth was that it made him furious when she did not bend to his will. He became so irrationally angry that he could not think straight. It was not the sex that had become a problem. It was ...

Shaking his head, he leaned against a bedpost. It could easily sleep with Hermione. He did, he took what he felt like, and afterwards he returned to his rational self. But when she refused him, when she acted as if he had no right to her, as if he was not superior to her, then he lost control. He knew that was not good. But until he found out why it made him so angry, he would not be able to change it. And the only way he could find out was to make his contact with Hermione even more intimate.

Calculating, he let his gaze wander up and down her defenceless body. She really was no beauty, but her clever eyes, which could be so delightfully on fire when she was burning for something, made her an exceptionally attractive woman. No man could resist those eyes. Just remembering how her eyes widened in shock, how tears formed in them, made his blood flow to other regions. She was his, she had willingly given herself to him after he had shown her she had no choice, and yet she still resisted him.

He had to find a way to break her will. She would only make him angry again and again if he did not break her will, and that would end badly sooner or later. He did not want to kill her. She was, in fact, the first person in his life he did not want to kill, not because he wanted to use them, but because he simply did not want to. But Tom knew that if his anger got out of control, he would not be able to control himself.

Slowly, Tom leaned forward. His hand passed over Hermione's face almost of its own accord and finally came to rest on her neck. So slender. So fragile. Her body hid well how much power this witch possessed and how strong her will was. He would not even need magic to kill her. If he wanted, he could simply snap her neck. She would not stand a chance against him.

But he did not want to.

It would be a pity for her, for her sanity, for the entertainment she offered him. It was precisely her strong will, which so often made him angry, that was so fascinating about her. If she did not have this will, she would probably be boring. Without that will, she would probably also be nowhere near as powerful.

"By Merlin," Tom whispered. He was confused. And frustrated. He was frustrated because he was confused. He hated her indomitable will and at the same time it was that very aspect of her that made her so unique and desirable. Without that will, she certainly would not have been able to do the meditation so successfully.

Her will would help her to be able to apply the necessary precautions to actually enter the source of her magic next time. That was what mattered now. He would concentrate on unleashing Hermione's power. And as he did so, he would bind her more strongly to him. He would make it clearer than ever that she was his. She would use her newfound power for him.

If only she would finally wake up. Tom's hand moved from Hermione's neck back to her cheek and lingered there. He would make sure she was never harmed again. Not by anyone other than him.