#180 in Fanfiction || #1 in Hermione ||
In the language of literature, there exists a seemingly-concrete, antonymous relationship between good and evil, light and dark, hero and monster. And yet, we often disregard the transition from one to anothe...
Tom does not linger in his attention paid to the girl he admires, turning back to Harry with due haste at the end of the boy's verbiage. But unlike before, that hidden nonchalance is gone from his facade, replaced by the hesitance of the constructed facts in his head.
"I created this," he says with a tinge of nerve and spite, "I do not deserve your gratitude...but I will accept it all the same."
Hermione is startled by the sudden words of Tom's first exemplification of guilt, knowing it from the tone of his voice, having heard it so commonly from Harry.
"Tom..."
The boy gazes at her with meaningful eyes, soaked in emotion that cannot quite right itself in the hurricane of sudden understanding, via the return of his entire soul. It's so drowning that the boy cannot take one more look at the honey of her irises, fleeing from the tent with the turn of his heel. Tom Riddle is overwhelmed by the horrors he caused today, ones he cannot grip just yet. But all the same, he refuses to show such weakness to Harry Potter, his supposed enemy in another turn of time.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Are you alright?" Harry is quick to ask Hermione upon Tom's exit, ever concerned for her state and especially with Tom here.
Almost Tom-like, Hermione seems conflicted by the question, not knowing how to answer given her physical healthiness, emotional unsteadiness, and mental upheaval. She cannot tell him the truth. "I'm fine. But you've been sick. Rest...rest a bit more..."
Harry nods, knowing it's best to listen to this motherly version of Hermione Granger, ever the caretaker of himself and Ron. He lays back onto the couch without the sounds of before, increasingly exhausted by the past hours, and waiting for sleep to take him. Harry only sees Hermione swiftly leave the tent after Tom before casting off into the sea of nightmares.
"Tom." Her words are not soft like they were seconds ago, knowing Tom to be nearly lacking weakness and not needing (nor wanting) her concern like Harry often does. But all the same, her intentions are only to comfort him now that she's seen his expression.
"Yes?" he responds, his head stuck straight in a silent refusal to turn to her.
"It's guilt. What you're feeling is guilt."
"I figured that out myself, thank you," he gripes, ever exerting his own brilliance, even when it comes to the emotions he is just now starting to poignantly feel. "It's hard not to given what I've witnessed today."
"It's not your fault--" she offers perhaps the worst words.
"All of this is my fault!" he storms, finally turning his head to look upon the soft female of his sole attention. "If I had not started this in the first place, if I had not strived for power over the weak, if I had not created this vivid nightmare, you would not have to overcome these tasks!"
Guilt. Tom Riddle hates that feeling and word. But, what he does not realize is how different this feeling expresses itself within the soul of the previous Dark Lord. His guilt does not span to the torture he imposed on strangers, the death he created within the unknown ranks of soldiers. No, it is more personal for him--a loyalty driving him to connect to very few, but growing with the passing days. First, he felt guilt over Hermione's pain...both then and now. And currently, he feels it for Harry, a boy who's surely been destroyed by the actions of Voldemort's past and present. It is much like how he changed the lives of his Knights, but then, he had their consent to do such things. Despite what history may think, Tom wishes for the devotion and time of those who are loyal to him, not those who just happen to be in his way. Harry Potter is a victim that should never have existed as such.
