The Dark Knight and the Dark Lord

Harry looked over the comic book in his hand to stare questioningly at Tom's mirror, which was propped up against the wall beside him. "Do you consider yourself evil?"

Tom did that eyebrow thing he always did when Harry annoyed him. "There is no good and evil -"

"-only power and those too weak to seek it. I know, I know. But do you feel like a bad person? Ever?"

"It has never occurred to me to think of myself as such."

"Hmmm...do you consider yourself amoral then?"

"That may be...an accurate description," Tom conceded. "How long do you plan on wasting your time with those muggle picture books?"

"They're not picture books! They're comic books. And it's not wasting time! I'm learning about fighting evil from the most genius crime solver ever!"

"Oh?" Tom drawled, entirely unimpressed.

"Batman!"

Tom blinked, and then burst into laughs. It was always a bit disconcerting to watch Tom exude laughter (which was often more a chilling cackle), especially after learning that he was, in fact, a dark lord. Something told him that in the past, when Tom Riddle laughed, someone usually ended up dead. "And what, pray tell, is a bat man?"

"He's the dark knight that watches over Gotham City from the shadows – the caped crusader!"

"Gotham City? There's no such place."

"That's not the point, Tom. He's...well, he's Batman!"

"I fail to see how bats are in any way relevant to this...caped crusader."

"Well, I suppose his costume looks very bat-like, you see?" He looked down at the comic and pointed to the panel depicting the full form of Batman, in all his caped glory.

"Costume?"

"Yeah! He wears a costume so that the police and the villains don't discover his true identity, billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne."

"I see. So if I understand correctly, this Batman is a vigilante, yes?"

"Uh huh."

"And you admire this vigilante?"

"Of course! He saves people, and fights villains."

"Villains like Lord Voldemort?"

Harry froze, frowning a bit. :You're different, Tom.:

:And what makes Lord Voldemort so different, Harry?:

Ah, there it was again. Over the last two and a half weeks, Tom had been probing him with similar questions. Harry understood where he was coming from; Tom had risked a lot, telling him about his parents, and knowing Tom, he expected him to be angry, resentful, and grief stricken about the whole thing.

But he wasn't. It was not in Harry's nature to be angry and resentful; he rarely got worked up about anything, and usually felt quite bad about it afterward. He'd been confused at first, hurt and disappointed, but he was never really angry. As for the grief...well to be honest, he was a bit conflicted about that aspect of the whole ordeal. He knew he was supposed to feel something...more.

He knew that the truth of his parents' death was supposed to weigh him down significantly...and it did to some degree. But the fact of the matter was that Harry knew very little of his parents, and didn't remember them at all - he didn't even know what they looked like. He didn't ever recall having a loving family, so how was he supposed to fully experience the grief of losing it? Perhaps that would change over time, as he learned more about his parents and their world, but for now...he had Tom. Only Tom.

So Harry did his best to restore the dynamic of their relationship to what it had been a couple of months prior, while Tom assisted...albeit somewhat reluctantly.

:Well, you're my friend. My best friend.:

"There is something very, very wrong with your head, Harry Potter."

"Yeah, it's you."

"No, I don't think I have anything to do with this particular malfunction."

Harry laughed at that, oblivious to the calculating stare Tom was boring into him.

"Have you been continuing with your studies?"

Harry pouted. "It's summer time."

"That's no excuse to cultivate sloth."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I've been reading the mathematics books you made me borrow, but I've already finished all the primary school ones."

"And the others?"

Harry scowled. "I read the history book and the astronomy book. I haven't looked at the other ones yet. I don't even see why I have to bother with this, though. I'll be going to Hogwarts in a year."

Tom scowled back at him. "You will continue studying science, mathematics, Latin, and history in the summer time."

"Tom, that's so unfair."

"The Dark Lord does not care about what's fair, Harry."

"Of course you don't." Harry sighed. "Science and maths, I get. Latin too. But since when does Lord Voldemort give a damn about muggle history?"

"Language, Harry."

Harry blinked. "Language? Yesterday you called my mom an obsessive mudblood hag."

"Slip of the tongue."

"Does that mean you're sorry? Because that hurt my feelings, you know."

"No. In answer to your question, however, muggle history is, unfortunately, a necessary evil for young minds such as yourself. Too many witches and wizards are woefully uninformed of the events of the muggle world, and as a result are oblivious to the fact that despite being inferior creatures, muggles are dangerous."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "Dangerous, Tom?" he said skeptically.

"Yes, Harry, dangerous. There are billions of them. Quite literally. That alone is cause for worry. And they are not without their weapons. I still remember when the papers proclaimed the destruction of two Japanese port cities in 1945. Splitting the atom – muggles managed that, 50 years ago. Which is why they should be disposed of before they become even more clever."

"They're not vermin, Tom."

"Perhaps not, but they are mere animals nonetheless."

"So are we."

"That is where you are wrong, Harry - those of us with magic have risen to a new level of being; it is we, not the muggles, who are the true future of humanity."

Harry frowned. "You know...sometimes you sound kind of like Hitler."

Sharp pain flooded Harry's scar.

"Lord Voldemort does not appreciate being compared to a muggle dictator."

Harry shrugged as he rubbed his forehead. "Ok, no need to get angry."

"My cause was much more well founded. Muggles are muggles, no matter the colour of their skin or the place of birth of their ancestors."

"Aren't wizards and witches the same, though?"

"No, Harry, they aren't."

"I don't really understand, though. I'm a half blood, and you're a halfblood, right?"

Tom looked a bit put off. "Yes."

"Well, why do you think you're better than everyone else then?"

"Because I am."

"But you're not a pureblood."

.....

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