Summary: A conversation between two intellectuals. Their disparity is unbridgeable, yet each enlightens the other.

Disclaimer: JKR owns everything. A genius. I own nothing. Am nothing.

Tom is dejected, his face ashen. Hermione disappeared before his eyes with the briefest of public goodbyes. He could not tell how long he had been staring at the space she had left before he stumbled back in confusion and shock.

"She left me!…expects me to change…to forget my aspirations…for the greater good? She wants my word, only that. She will not turn her back on her world for me! Yet she expects me to give up everything for her! For nothing?!" Tom ran a hand through his hair and pulled the ends briefly, shaking his head. It was undignified, but he could not help the outburst.

Hermione had gone back to her time, with friends Harry and Ron. They stayed in the past for an entire year and a half, making certain that Tom get into Auror training after their graduation. They convinced Professor Dumbledore that Tom would be more dangerous if he were left to his devices, and urged that he subsequently be assimilated to Hogwarts School for a DADA professorship, to replace outgoing Professor Merriweather. Despite Tom's brilliance, Hermione anticipated that his chances for gainful employment would be limited because of his blood status.

Tom settled for a lodging place at the Leaky Cauldron. He received monetary aid for the first two months. Hermione, Harry and Ron trained with him for eight months, and they have concluded that he was able to comply with his superiors and contribute to his fellow Auror trainees. Tom had secretly been holding back on his extraordinary power and skills. He deemed his co-trainees unchallenging. He agreed to the training because he knew this would allay Dumbledore's doubts. Dumbledore had opined that this experience would earn him the DADA position. Tom also surmised that Aurors could be gullible allies.

Tom had not met with his deatheaters since their graduation. It was difficult to maintain communication with the Golden Trio around him. Not that Tom cared. They were means to his end. He had given them a vision---a world devoid of magical impurity. A vision Tom no longer shares with them, but they didn't have to know that. He had set his eyes on greater things.

Tom practiced and studied the dark arts with Hermione when they were alone, where and when they were seemingly uninhibited. Harry and Ron were adamant against this, but she had assured them that it was a better alternative to Tom learning it from some shady character. Tom, in turn, had not harmed her in the least. For this and other reasons, Hermione believed that she, Harry and Ron were succeeding in their mission.

Tom, who interchanged only with Hermione, talked about teaching DADA with such ardor that the witch could not conceal her admiration. He had said that magic is an endeavor, a force to be probed and pried upon, to be used to create and to effect change. He had wanted to teach because he was unsatisfied with the conservative methods of old professors. He wanted to validate that dark arts could indeed be useful and safe. Tom wanted to impress upon pureblood society that he was better than Dumbledore, the wizard who recently defeated Grindelwald. He wanted his lineage known throughout history. His lineage will create opportunities for him (Hermione only half-agreed). He realized that the basilisk would have to remain hidden, as a repeat of the accidental muggleborn death three years before, is inadvisable. The basilisk had unwavering preference for killing muggleborns, and Tom could not control it. He assured Hermione that he would not oppose the acceptance of muggleborns to Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, the Houses of idiots, according to Tom. Hermione believed him.

Tom strode over to the lone window, and opening it, he looked up at the starless sky and gulped down deep, cold breaths. Satisfied, he shifted his gaze to the quiet, dimly lit street below. There had been no snowfall this year, yet he felt chilled to the bone. He turned, looking around the room that seemed to be more illuminated than before. He fixed his gaze at the small table where he had spent hours researching and discussing with Hermione. Tom shut his eyes for a long moment, but he could not suppress his thoughts.

"Who would believe in a half-blood like me? The Ministry will want nothing to do with me. They will treat me less than I deserve." The Ministry is the seat of power, but it seemed impenetrable. It is dominated and controlled by the richest purebloods. Though Tom knew that Dumbledore would always be suspicious of his actions, the teaching position is the most feasible to him. He hated playing by Dumbledore's terms, but he would have to for the time being. He hated resorting to work for Borgin and Burkes, though the store held interesting dark magical artifacts."I can see the Malfoys sneer at ambitious Riddle playing by the rules." Tom hissed. "They will try to control me, use me! Am I supposed to allow all this to happen to me?! No pureblood would fraternize with me; charisma and deception will not work. Aberrations of society are annihilated everywhere. I cannot survive without extortion! They deserve it if they will constrain and ignore me!" Tom clenched his fists. "Hermione is naïve! Why did I trust her and her stupid vision? When I mean nothing to her?!"

Increasingly infuriated, breathing heavily, Tom whipped out his wand and cast a Reducto curse on the table, blasting it to pieces. He stepped over to the bookcase against the nearby wall to his left, where tomes on lethal potions, Legilimens, muggle disease-mimicking curses, and fearlessly flying broomless stood amongst muggle books on how to win friends and influence people. Tom took out the book on Legilimens. He angrily opened it and hastily flipped through the pages. He should have mastered this two years ago. An innocuous mouse scurrying across the floor diverted Tom's attention. He flung it to its death against the opposite wall after muttering Crucio to it. He considered an Avada to destroy the rest of the books. It might be the perfect release. Tom needed to stop the pain piercing his chest and stinging his eyes. Voldemort does not succumb to weakness!

"VOLDEMORT??! I leave you for five minutes and you already forgot your promise?! Was I wrong to trust you to do the right thing, Tom?" Obviously, Tom bit that last part out loud.

Tom held his breath. He was relieved to hear her voice again, but he could not stop the pain. He fought the impulse to turn around. He lowered his wand and stilled his emotions. He closed the book slowly but remained his grip on it.

He heard the window magically shut. He knew that Hermione had also wordlessly cast Muffliato in the room.

"What? Are you checking on me already?" He let out an insipid chuckle. Tom tried to clear his mind. Hermione could not love him. Voldemort. Or Tom Riddle. Changed or not. He hated her pity, yet he was not ready to see disappointment in her eyes.

"Tom, we've talked about this. You are better than this. The way things are now. You could change the world for the better. You could change how people perceive you." Hermione surveyed the room sadly. Seeing him this way she could not keep her anger for long. "I believe in you, Tom. But, not the way you plan it. Nothing good could come out of violence, intimidation and manipulation!" Her arms stretched in supplication but fell with his cold reply.

"Yet you yourself are manipulating me." Tom replaced the book on the shelf as he observed her with detachment. He turned slowly to face her, gracefully crossing his arms as he leaned on the shelf.

For a moment, Hermione lost her speech. Her heart skipped a beat or two.

"Tom, you know me better than that. I cannot change you. Nobody can. You change because you want to. I-It's just that I've seen the consequences of your decision, and I just hope you realize that anything is better than what I've seen." Hermione's voice was soft, but her entreaty went unnoticed.

"Why should I change fifty years hence, when I'll be very much alive and invincible?!" Tom narrowed his eyes, trying to ignore the pain. Pain from seeing her sad, pathetic face or seeing her almost convincing play-acting. Why did he ever let anyone affect him this way?

Hermione held back her response. Harry had warned her that Tom was irrevocably Voldemort. His deceptive demeanor bothered her. Her hope dissipating, she focused on what had to be done to keep the future from oblivion. Hermione felt for her wand in her back pocket. She tried to even her breathing. She may be a warrior, but she is not belligerent or brave as she used to be.

"Why should I do as you say? You refuse to belong to me, yet you are here! You know that I follow no one! You stay and you risk my wrath! Your efforts are in vain, you see. I change for no one. Not without gain. Not for some empty words from a silly, little girl." His voice was steely, yet eerily calm. He dared her to rebuke him.

Did he see tears in Hermione's eyes? She is a fool to…

"I am such a fool to believe there is something good and decent in you! What was I thinking?! You've never known love! How could you understand that love is the most important thing in the world? You are not as powerful as you think, Tom! You command and control people because you believe you are the superior wizard. You gain their fear, but not their respect. Real power doesn't even reside in magic.…"

"Love is a weakness. It does not serve my purpose," Tom sneeringly interrupted. How dare she think she knows him better than he does!

"Fear is the true weakness, Tom. So is hatred. Both will delimit and destroy you if you let them. They blind you to what true greatness is!"

Tom stalked over to her. "What can be greater than immortality, Hermione? Endless opportunities, endless possibilities! No fear of consequences! You always get what you want, you get better at what you do, and no one will dare stand in your way. " As he paced on slowly around her, Hermione ignored her fear of seeing the fire behind those grey eyes.

She remembered the Gaunt ring he had unenthusiastically surrendered earlier to her. Morfin had given it to Tom as a succession of birthright. It was an ugly gold ring set with a large irregular-shaped black stone. Tom denied that the ring contained a piece of his soul, but Hermione insisted on keeping it. Tom had visited Morfin one summer three years ago after discovering his ties to Slytherin's descendants. He was disappointed to see the squalid, wretched son of a Parselmouth on the brink of insanity. Morfin informed him about the return of Riddle Senior to the manor house in Little Hangleton; how he blamed the muggle for the breakdown of the Gaunt family that began with the dishonor of Merope. Tom decided to confront his father, vindictive as he was. Morfin accompanied him, and ended up killing his grandparents. Having avenged his family, Morfin bragged of his crimes, and was consequently tried and sentenced to Azkaban for the three murders. He deliberately refused to implicate Tom. Tom understood this hatred very well. He did not plan to kill his father, but he did not regret it, either. With his father's murder, Tom created his first Horcrux, preserving his sixteen year-old self. In his diary. Tom Marvolo Riddle is immortal.

She felt a chill up her spine as she recalled Tom's confession, but ignored it as she stood her ground. When he stopped, she uttered her indignation.

"Immortality is just another of your fears in disguise! You're afraid of death, because it means that you will die, alone and forgotten!"

Tom glowered at her. He will never be forgotten! He is the Heir of Slytherin, he is the most brilliant wizard to walk Hogwarts grounds. He will learn Dark Magic without her, and he will become very powerful indeed. Everyone will tremble in awe and fear. He will have subservient followers as far as...

His trail of thoughts was disrupted by Hermione's lingual delirium. She really looked beautiful when she was passionate about something. He had never met anyone who disagreed with him so much, yet had been an unwavering…friend. Magnanimous. A smart conversationalist with an occasional smile that was always refreshing to behold. That wild hair of hers, quite like her…

Tom banished those thoughts with great effort. Hermione does not understand his need to be himself! He cannot deny himself, so why should she?

"What good is immortality if you're angry and frustrated all the time? What good is all the wealth in the world if you are the only one to enjoy it? What good is a companion who only says what you want to hear? What good is a long life full of accomplishments yet meaningless relations? How can you be happy without love? How can you not want happiness, Tom?!"

Hermione felt utterly defeated. Tom is incapable of understanding. What character, integrity and altruism mean. She realized that he considered her dispensable. Inevitably, she had to kill him. Ironically, the truth is killing her. Her world is doomed. Her heart is shattered. Hermione takes out her wand but is unable to raise it. She stoops and staggers backward, finding support on a wall. Her arm shaking, she dropped her wand as she collapsed on the floor against her will. She could not see Tom, her eyes blinded by tears.

Hermione's whimpers carried across the small room, despite her attempts to stifle them. She should not have stayed behind. It would have been an honor to die fighting for the Light with Harry and Ron alongside her. Nonetheless, Hermione had chosen Tom.

Hermione thought that Tom filled her emptiness. He was her intellectual equal. She thought she had at last found a boy who would not laugh at her for reading too much, for obsessing with perfection, for having prodigious, impossible dreams, and for dreading flying. Tom riled her often, disagreed with her most of the time, found her unsettling, but she knew he enjoyed her company more than his deatheaters'. He listened to her. He was always protective of her even when it was unnecessary.

Headstrong Hermione never needed anyone in her life—before.

Hermione felt selfish to want him over her future, her parents, over everything that made her happy. When did she become this?

She may have made errors in judgment, but she will never give up her principles. Good will always triumph over evil.

Albeit, she could not kill that part of her that wished he could love her back. After all, that is why she stayed, because she loved Tom. She did not want him to be alone.

"You…love me." Tom did not expect Hermione's reaction. Her broken spirit irked him. She is no match for his fierceness, but is she not fearless and proud? Is she a Gryffindor or not? If she meant to kill him all along, then where is her resolve? She knew where he kept his diary. What is she waiting for? Tom finally caught on to what Hermione was trying to convey. He scoffed at the implication. "Silly girl, you do not love me. You are here to spy on me. To kill me should I fail to keep my word. How can you love me when I have destroyed your world?!"

Hermione wiped her eyes to see him clearly. She brought her knees to her chest and shuddered."YES, I love you, Tom Riddle. Voldemort destroyed my world, but you are not him. I know what it's like, Tom, to be smart yet feel inferior, to have friends yet feel like you're alone. Harry told you that I'm the brightest witch of my age. As a muggleborn, I felt magically challenged. Malfoy and his pureblood friends reminded me constantly. So, like you, every day I had to prove that I was equal if not superior to them.

"But, you know what? It is better to be a muggle and be free than to be pureblood and a slave to Voldemort. Purebloods at the mercy of a half-blood, and a half-blood Harry to save them from their misery. Ironic, isn't it?" Hermione bit her lip and briefly looked at the floor.

Tom felt uncomfortable somehow. Before him is a woman who cared not about blood or lineage, unabashed, powerful, beautiful. She only wanted to right the world. So did he. Why can she not hate him and leave him?

Hermione broke off his thoughts. "Magic is only as good as the wielder...Tom, you have to look past these pureblood faces and realize that you don't need their acceptance. You can still rule the world without the violence. The future is bright because people are brave enough to make a difference. There will always be room for improvement! The world is yours, Tom, if you just let go of your hate, just let go…" Hermione's voice was feeble and hoarse. She stopped, short of breath from all her ranting.

Tom said nothing. He was looking at her, his face devoid of emotion. She averted her eyes. She refused to shed more tears.

She knew it was impossible, but she had to try. She had no regrets.Hermione stared at the dancing flames in the hearth. Its warmth strengthened her for what she was about to say as she turned to Tom. "We will always see the world from opposite ends of the spectrum. I love you, but I refuse to hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it. And no one deserves to die, least of all from someone else's hands, Tom... I will oppose you even if it means my death...Love and Hate are opposites for a reason." Hermione closed her eyes, emotionally exhausted.

Tom waited a long moment, then walked over to Hermione. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up. Hermione struggled, half-heartedly. She looked into his eyes. His intense, grey eyes, swirling with emotions that she could not name, his breath almost hot on her cheeks. Her heart racing, her own breathing held. This is where it ends, and Hermione never felt braver.

Tom muttered, "I cannot love, Hermione. I do not possess it." It is second nature for him to distrust, to hate, to blame, to punish. Self-preservation is the Slytherin way. Self-sacrifice is not.

Tom released her, though he did not step back. Quivering, Hermione dropped her gaze to his chest, and with one hand pushed Tom slowly away from her. He was too close. She came so close. She cannot deter his destiny. Their disparity is unbridgeable. Hermione realized she needed air.

She gasped as Tom grasped her wrist and while he met her wondering stare, he kissed her hand tenderly. Without letting go, he softly said, "I have hated for so long. Very tedious but I was good at it. I hated you, Hermione, for defying me. Yet, while I find your defiance contemptible, it is what is most attractive about you. You have always challenged me, and you know I never could refuse a good challenge. You will teach me, Hermione."

He refused to promise anything, but he knew Hermione understood him--better. Tom knew with certainty that oppression lay ahead, but with Hermione, he will endure. With Hermione, he will never grow old, will never fear, will never falter.

He will heal her. He will right her world. He has forever to try.

Hermione's eyes brimmed with joyful tears. She held Tom's cheek with her other hand, smiling, she nodded. Love is the greatest power on earth. Hermione possesses it, for them both.

The End.

"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone—we find it with another." --- Thomas Merton