Chapter 25: Dissolving Snowflakes

Certainly, travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living- Mary Ritter Beard

The painful slap Joelle has received that evening was nothing compared to the feeling Tom left her in during the next days of his continuous absence. It was symbolic enough that there wasn't a single clock in the whole manor, no calendar, no newspaper, nothing to give her some sort of orientation; just like he never had an orientation as to when Joelle would come back; or if at all. It was then almost pointless to mention that none of Tom's puppets ever told Joelle what time of the week, what time of the day it was, but she tried nonetheless.

"Once more. I want to know what time it is, what day," said Joelle, frowning at Avery who was sitting in the large salon in front of her on an armchair, reading a book. He did not even look at Joelle anymore whenever she asked, his pointy chin merely raised a slight bit. Joelle narrowed her eyes; she saw Tom's cold arrogance in him.

"Above answering the silly questions of a woman, right?" Asked Joelle sharply. Avery's blue eyes looked at her, he closed the book.

"Darling, he doesn't want us to tell you. So we won't."

"Dance, dance..." Whispered Joelle. "At your master's command..." And then she suddenly laughed, throwing her head back. It was too ridiculous a situation than to not reward it with this reaction. Avery watched her, brooding and seething.

"Be quiet!" He suddenly bellowed when she didn't stop laughing, but Joelle grinned, sitting up at this. "Excuse me. I forgot he installed some weapons in his puppets."

"I am not his puppet!" Avery growled, aiming his wand at her. "But you are right. I told you. I am allowed to discipline you."

"You couldn't be less scarier than you already are, Avery. Go ahead. Show me what he taught you."

"Don't push me, girl."

"Oh, the fear!" Joelle chuckled. "It's not mine, though."

"You would be scared of him if you knew the things I know. He could care less about people like you! You are under the mercy of the strongest young wizard known to date! You are in no position to speak about fear, mudblood! Better thank Merlin to be alive!" Avery hissed. "Crucio."

Pain. There was just that one word Joelle thought of as soon as those words left Avery's lips. She gasped, half of her screams stuck in her throat when she fell down to the floor. The raspy and high pitched sound of her voice echoed throughout the manor before Avery pulled his wand away. He stared at Joelle with concentratedly widened eyes and a thin mouth before he turned around and walked off, locking the door. It took hours until it opened again.

It was Lestrange, but Joelle did not even look up. She sat in the corner next to the large window front, staring to the raindrops dissolving the snow; her eyes narrowed in thoughts upon the view. She did not glance at the second plate of food being set down next to her, nor touched anything of the third plate. The delivery of the fourth plate beheld a surprise: It was already late in the evening when Joelle was rustled to wake. Her eyes shot up only to stare into the merciless coldness of Tom.

"Get up," he said.

Joelle glanced at him long enough to provoke him; Tom pulled her up by her arm, clicking his tongue, and harshly pushed her ahead to the couch where she fell on due to the impact. She glared at him. "What do y-"

"You didn't eat," said Tom colorlessly. Joelle turned her face away, but because of the nervousness of not knowing when he might flip (thinking his expression could tell), she looked at him again.

"I'm not hungry."

"Not hungry," whispered Tom with a nod of fake understanding while looking into her eyes. Tom waved his wand in such a quick manner that it made Joelle jump in her seat. The fourth plate of food hovered over to them before it was set down on the coffee table with a spine shaking clinking sound.

"You will eat," said Tom, leaning back against the couch, watching Joelle. Silence invaded the room as the both of them stared at each other. Joelle felt the tension growing thicker, as if a loud yell couldn't carry her voice through the dense atmosphere, and once again, as Tom was sitting there so nonchalantly, Joelle was reminded of a snake awaiting the best moment to attack. Still yet, she shook her head determinedly.

"I won't eat," she said with her old strictness that Tom seemed to recognize at once judging by the quick twitch of his eyebrow. He nodded again, as if her answer couldn't shake him even if he wanted to.

"As you wish," he smiled. "I take it that Patch is not doing his job right. What good is a house elf when he can't even make decent food?" Tom then got up swiftly but Joelle's eyes widened; she instinctively grabbed his hand. Tom stopped and looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a victorious grin.

"No," Joellle whispered exasperatedly, though inwardly narrowing her eyes. Tom knew how to make her work. What did he care about personally forcing her to eat when he could as easily blackmail her? He knew that her big heart was roomy enough for Patch. The elf's life now lay in Joelle's hands. This was Tom's version of handing over responsibility to further ensure his power over her. Joelle clawed on the couch. Always a trap.

"No?" Tom then asked when Joelle let go of his hand.

"I'll eat the food..." Joelle still glared at Tom. "Don't you have to go? As always?" She asked bitterly. She would've loved to see him leave again.

"No," said Tom, sitting back down. Of course he wanted to see if she was keeping her word. Joelle took the plate, then started to eat without further discussing. The food did not taste particularly good all the while under Tom's watchful eye. The nagging question still buzzed in her head, however, like the rain against the window, tapping, knocking.

"What day is it?" Asked Joelle then. Tom merely glanced at her as if he hadn't heard her question. Did she have to be nicer? Joelle sighed. "Please, tell me. I need to know."

The corners of Tom's lips slowly bent up and the color in Joelle's face started to fade only to be replaced with sheer red - she was angry. Angry about how much it worked to drive her insane, angry that she had no single idea how to change the situation. Not knowing how to help herself, she grabbed the plate and threw it Tom's way, but he simply raised his wand, causing the porcelain to fly back. It would have almost hit Joelle if she hadn't decided to duck just in time. The plate shattered on the floor; Joelle looked at the broken pieces. When she turned her face back around, Tom was right in front of her, causing Joelle to press herself against the couch in need to have as much distance between them as possible.

"Do you want to know what will happen if you continue your little tantrums?" He asked calmly. Joelle didn't answer, but thinking of the curse from Avery earlier gave her enough ideas of what Tom could be capable of. She shuddered at the thought of the pain and shook her head.

"Of course not," said Tom, twisting a strand of her hair around his index finger before he let go. "Come with me."

Joelle looked up to him curiously, but started to walk with him. She did not ask him where they were going, knowing Tom would only remain quiet anyway; she would find out soon enough. He was leading her into an empty room. Joelle glanced to every direction; this question she couldn't suppress. "What are we going to do?" She asked as Tom was standing in front of her in the daylight. His face was unreadable, mysterious. Until he pulled out his wand. Joelle frowned and stepped back, but Tom had his hand wrapped around her wrist before she could go too far. He squeezed it a little so that she opened her hand, shoving the wand in.

"Your wand?" She asked with a frown.

"It's not mine. The others have taught you a lot of theory during the past few weeks. Now we want to see how much you can implement," Tom said, circling around her. It made Joelle a tad jumpy; she glanced to him nervously, then looked to the wand. Surely it was stolen.

"What if it's not-"

"It will work fine for you," said Tom before Joelle could finish her sentence. "Unicorn hair. Ivy. Eleven inches long and...slightly springy. Try it out."

Joelle inspected the wand all the while Tom was speaking, then swung it at him. A ball of pale magenta light dashed towards Tom who merely stepped aside; the ball of light dissolved against the wall behind. Joelle stared at the wand, then at Tom. This was amazing, she couldn't help but to note it.

"Don't you know that I will try anything to find out how to get away now that I have a wand?" Joelle asked. Tom stared at her for a few seconds, then suddenly chuckled.

"Do you truly believe I couldn't stop you?" He asked. Joelle sighed, glancing away. Of course she did not truly believe that. But she hoped.

"Think again, my precious," said Tom. "I will only hand over your wand when I am here and when we practice together."

"Practicing...What for?" Joelle asked. Tom did not answer.

"Isn't it pointless? Considering I'm a mudblood and all..." Joelle said bitterly, rolling her eyes, but she frowned when she saw Tom's ghostly expression. He pressed his lips together firmly and his eyes were slightly widened as he walked over to her, one hand clasped around her forearm.

"What did you just say?" He asked with a stern tone. "Did I just hear mudblood?" He scowled and hissed "who taught you that term?!"

Joelle didn't quite understand. "Avery, right after cursing me," she said. Tom only tightened his grip on her.

"He... what?" Tom asked, drawing himself closer to Joelle's puzzled face, possibly to catch her lying.

"But of course, you ordered them to, how did he word it, 'discipline' me."

Tom stared at her with a frozen expression that slowly grew determined on something.

"Disciplining you..." He said in a firm tone. "Remains with me."

Joelle merely looked at him, not responding. She did not share his opinion of course. Who was he to think he could discipline her? Who was he to think that he had all the power over her? And then she wondered. How much of what he has become was her fault? Joelle rubbed a hand through her hair, another habit she picked up. This wasn't a situation to just massage the bridge of her nose like she used to do back then when Tom was nothing but a boy. On a second thought he was probably never just a boy.

"What curse did he use on you?" Tom asked.

"I don't know," said Joelle, rubbing her forearm in discomfort. "But it hurt a lot..."

Tom stared at her again, just staring, not doing anything. Joelle couldn't quite catch it, but before Tom turned around to storm off she could've sworn that his face was red. "Wait here." He shouted firmly, then disappeared out of the door.

Joelle didn't see Avery again and she did not ask what happened to him.

It was a time of heartfelt coldness. The snowflakes started to disappear day by day, until everything outside turned a muddy brown. The sky was grey. Joelle would have loved to smell the scent of the rain, but it was likelier to win the noble prize in the fine arts than it was to be let out of Riddle manor.

Instead of Avery it was now Nott and Mulciber, and on rare occasions even Rosier that took turns watching Joelle when Tom wasn't here. She would have started to hang out with Patch the house elf, but she was forbidden to do so. A strict command from Tom, of course. Ever since their first failed session of training with him, practicing spells was put on a small pause. The reason for this was that Tom disappeared and hadn't come back for the twenty second night Joelle counted by now. Where was he? Where did he go? What was he planning? And what role did she play in his plans?

"You're cheating!" Groaned Black, putting down his set of cards while Lestrange laughed out loud. "You're just a bad loser. That's how poker works."

"Would love to play it with one or the other gal," said Black with a grin. "Joelle's out of reach, though. What a pity. To be honest, a fine lady like that shouldn't sit here and wait for her man to return only to be punished with silence until he leaves again."

"I agree," said Lestrange. "At least she stopped that attitude towards us."

"That's because she's not talking to us at all," Black frowned.

"She still needs time to adjust. She's been here for what, six, seven weeks? Poor girl didn't even notice she missed Christmas. He didn't tell her," said Lestrange. "I wonder if he'll come here today. It's New Year's Eve after all...Look at the storm though. Can't do anything while it rains like that."

"True," Black chuckled. "Babysitting the shrew on New Year's Eve...at least she's nice to look at."

"Shh," said Lestrange. "We don't want him to hear that. You'll be punished next, like Avery. Nott told me he almost didn't make it. He's still at the hospital."

"Well...really, calling the kitten that. And then the Cruciatus curse. Avery can consider himself lucky that he wasn't killed. I wonder what he told him in order to stay alive..." Said Black. "He called her that..."

"Strange, huh? Avery is...well, was most devoted to him. Pff...serves Avery right, he's always been trying to be ahead of us in terms of loyalty. As if we aren't faithful!" Lestrange grumbled.

"Then how could- wait. Did you hear this?" Black asked, sitting up. Lestrange looked round. "What is it? Did she open the door again? I double checked, used three different spells, she can't-"

"No, not the door," Black frowned and got up. When he walked ahead he heard somebody or some people walking upstairs with giggly voices. Black exchanged looks with Lestrange and the both of them instantly took off after the noise, their wands pulled out.

"So this is the Riddle house? Is it, Bob?" Asked a male voice.

"Yeh," said another. "This is it," he said. "This is where they said 'e, Riddle senior and the rest, died. Just found the mangled bodies, the gardener said it wasn't him; bunch'a crap if ye ask me. He was the only one with a key."

"Oi, I was sure I've seen some candles earlier, by the window," said one of them.

"Absolutely impossible, Drake. Unless...their souls haunt this manor!" Bob roared at Drake, causing the latter to further dash upstairs. Black and Lestrange looked at each other again with frowns, then sighed and shook their heads, taking after them quietly.

"Same old, same old. Always the curious. The last pack from Halloween was annoying as it is. Shall I kill them this time? I need to practice the killing curse a bit more," said Lestrange. Black shrugged, but cleared his throat. "Go ahead then."

Green light shone through the windows of Riddle manor as the storm proceeded to sing its song outside, accompanied by the howls of the wind and bass of the thunder.

The thunder continued throughout the night. And with the thunder came another flash of light while everyone was asleep. The large door in the entrance hall opened and closed again loudly, heavy footsteps caused Joelle to wake up. She heard a person stomping upstairs and crawled out of the bed with the idea to glance out of the room to see who it was, but just when she was about to push down the handle, the door flung open and Joelle staggered back. Tom stood in front of her breathlessly, his pale skin almost glowing from the moonlight, not reflecting the four weeks of his absence; he still looked the same. Joelle heard her pondering heartbeat, but before she could say or do something else, Tom had pushed her against the wall firmly, swinging himself against her body with his hungry lips pressed to hers. He kissed her in a way she has never been kissed before; those years, all those years hidden between them.