Chapter 35: Lord and Lady
The question isn't who's going to let me; it's who's going to stop me - Ayn Rand
"Marvolo, could you tell me what day it is?" Joelle asked the next morning at the breakfast table. Tom glanced at her swiftly, then sipped on a cup of tea. "Monday."
"No, the date," said Joelle impatiently. Tom just chuckled. "You should care about precision, Joelle," he said upon her grumbling.
"It's the fifteenth of July. 1946, if you haven't realized."
"July?" Joelle frowned. "I could have sworn it's August already. It's so incredibly warm outside."
"That's true. This year's summer is very unpleasant. I am surprised you still noticed it," he put down his cup.
"Why are you so surprised?" Joelle asked.
"I have used a spell to regulate the temperature inside Riddle manor. I did not want you to melt," Tom's mouth twitched up slightly. Joelle chuckled, then stopped abruptly. She has already melted like wax in the hands of Tom. Anger swelled up in her chest. She was weak. And it hit her now - now while she was talking to Tom about the weather; one of the most banal things to have a conversation on. But she pushed it away. She had made a choice and decided against fighting him for the sake of her own. But how foolish was she to think that she wasn't fighting.
"Thinking about your future?" Tom asked. Joelle sighed.
"Not quite. Too troubled dealing with what's in the past." She looked away.
Tom nodded, faking his ability to understand as he spoke coldly. "Somebody must have missed to tell you that the past will always catch up."
"Especially when you least expect it," Joelle responded. Tom didn't comment, instead he got up and waved his wand so that the used dishes were cleared from the table. He held out his hand to her. "Come."
And then they disappeared.
Joelle looked around her new cage. At first she thought it was a hotel room, but it had too much personal decor as to be one. There were dark red curtains hanging down to the very floor, framed pictures and books spread around. A large bed with navy covers was placed in the center of the room, dark brown wooden nightstands next to it. But what caught Joelle's most attention was the framed poster of a skull and a snake slithering from its mouth around it in the sign of infinity. It scared her.
"Where are we?"
"At the home of a very good friend of mine," said Tom with a halfway grin.
"Marvolo, why did we leave Riddle manor?"
"People will investigate the place in order to find out who killed the two men."
"They will investigate?! But my clothes! Some of my clothes are still there! And other things that belong to me! Marvolo, they might be able to find out that they're mine and think it was me-"
"Tragic. Very, very tragic, I know, Joelle," said Tom collectedly. Joelle frowned in realization. Another trap, yet again. She looked away while fighting the tears.
"Isn't it enough that I agreed to give you a chance?" She asked as she spun around angrily.
"I don't see you trying," murmured Tom.
"What is it?! What do you expect? Marrying you?! Falling pregnant?! Living a happy life?!"
The more Joelle yelled, the more Tom's eyes darkened. "You know, I believe that sounds like a fine idea," he cooed.
Joelle just shook her head, chuckling in disbelief. She turned her face away, but that's when Tom grabbed her back by the wrist roughly and pulled her against himself.
"The only detail you're missing is that marrying leaves a chance of divorce, I told you before ," he said coldly, pushing Joelle's arms down that the later tried to rip away from his figure as he fastened them around himself to keep her in a tight hug.
"Look at me."
Joelle inhaled deeply. It took her some time to look up to Tom. But she eventually did.
"Until death do us part, they say," Tom whispered, pressing his forehead against Joelle's. He closed his eyes and laughed out loud suddenly. "Death is so weak."
"Marvolo..."
"When the soul binding ritual has finally worked, no such silliness can be my downfall. You don't see it yet, Joelle. You might not see it at all. You are...blinded. Blinded by that old man promising you a happy end. But an end is never happy. It's a contradiction. Beauty is timeless. It is eternity. True beauty never ends."
This was one of the rare moments where Tom let Joelle in on his true thoughts. He was usually very reserved and kept most of his ideas to himself and only let Joelle feel the results. But for some reason, Tom was under the impression that he had nothing to lose anymore. He knew that Joelle would give in at some point. He knew her well.
"We still have to work on your magical signature. You will be trained more. You are a witch," Tom said sternly suddenly. Joelle did not know where this sharp tone came from.
"It's not exactly my fault that we stopped training," Joelle said back sharply enough for Tom to understand that she was aiming at his constant absence.
"It doesn't matter. We have time now. Come on, follow me," he said, holding out his hand for her to take. Joelle grabbed it and together they aimed downstairs. This place was a lot like Riddle manor, just far more darker. The furniture was exclusively dark brown and there were objects of sorts that Joelle has never seen before.
Joelle thought the poster before was interesting, but she changed her mind. It was now the ceiling that caught most of Joelle's attention as soon as she walked into the empty room. It represented a galaxy; it was as though Joelle could see right through the endless beauty of space. The room wasn't dark, but lit up by the stars and light of the magenta and blue glory that came with the galaxy. She loved it.
"We will train here," said Tom, holding out the Ivy wand to Joelle. Joelle smiled when she held it in her hand, feeling the energy pulsing through her veins. Tom observed her curiously when she did that. He found everything she did intriguing. He wanted it all to himself. Joelle was for his eyes only.
"Am I finally going to learn how to protect myself?" She asked. Tom sighed. "I will protect you."
"How, when you're never there?" Joelle couldn't help but hiss.
"I will be there," said Tom collectedly. "I won't let you out of my sight again."
Joelle didn't know how to feel about this. Even though it sounded like a promise made to a dear person, she couldn't help but feel threatened. Maybe Tom's constant absence was good - and she would soon realize how much she wanted him gone. He walked behind her. Joelle could feel his soft breathing on the back of her neck, giving her chills. His big hand rested under her elbow, gently pushing it up to the position he had in mind. His other hand was resting on her hip. Joelle felt shaky on her knees. The closeness and warmth made her nervous.
"Keep your arm up there. Spells that are thrown at you will mostly aim towards your chest - that's where the most energy comes from. You don't have time to deflect a curse when your hand isn't in the right position."
Joelle nodded at the explanation and remained standing where she was when Tom let go. He stepped in front of her and observed her stance, then walked further away.
"I will throw nonverbal curses at you. Most curses that can be seriously harmful are nonverbal. The advantage of it is that your opposite cannot react immediately with a counterspell or curse."
"That's great," said Joelle dryly. "Good I trained enough to deflect your nonverbal curses then, right? Wait- didn't you say you didn't want to train me how I can protect mys-"
"Quiet," said Tom sternly, his face unamused and unemotional as always. Joelle muttered to herself but kept standing in her position. Tom took his time observing her warningly.
"Hurry, I'm getting a cramp!" She yelped. Before long, a dark purple bolt of light was sent her way.
"What am I gonna do! What am l gonna do!" She yelled, not knowing a single spell to react to it. Joelle hastily jumped to the ground just the split of a second before the curse could have hit her, ignoring the ice cold laughter coming from Tom. He threw his head back, then bent over, his dark cloak flying dramatically in his quick move of amusement.
"FUNNY!" Joelle yelled. "I don't even know how to-Marvolo!" Joelle gasped and rolled off to the side when yet another curse was directed at her. Instead of laughing, Tom was furious.
"For Merlin's beard, fight back! Just let your energy do the work for you!" Tom yelled and stomped towards Joelle, ripping her off of the ground to stare at the girl. He frowned when he saw the tears in her eyes.
"What do you think protecting yourself is about? You will have to attack me," he said in somewhat of a softer tone when he saw her sadness. Joelle shook her head.
"I don't want to hurt you," she whispered. This caught Tom off guard. His usually so controlled features allowed a slight frown to show. That bittersweet innocence. "Very well then..." He whispered and held up his wand. "Protego. That's what you'll have to say. Out loud, firmly and clearly. And flick your wand ahead." He stepped away once more. And attacked.
"Protego!" Exclaimed Joelle at the jolt of white light ahead of her. She watched how it merely fled around her body, but did no harm at all. Tom lowered his wand as he watched Joelle's eyes glistening in joy upon the magic she performed, and he couldn't help but to be proud of her himself.
"Ah, Tom. Here you are," said a voice hours later.
"Shh," hissed Tom, spinning around towards Lestrange. Just seconds before, Tom was watching Joelle asleep on the couch, rolled up and tiny. Lestrange walked over to Tom, seeing how Joelle was hugging around the pillows. He smiled lightly.
"That's cute," he commented, not reacting to the raised eyebrow thrown at him. It seemed like Tom did not appreciate anyone's comments on Joelle and her mannerisms or looks all together. He turned around and walked off in that grand way he knew how to carry himself, Lestrange following.
"Is Black coming?"
"Yes." Lestrange nodded.
"Good. Very good. And Mulciber and Nott are at there to observe?"
"Yes." Lestrange nodded again.
"And Rosier and Avery set up the spell?"
"Yes " nodded Lestrange. "Would you like to monitor it? If you wish, I can take care of Joelle-"
"Lady Joelle," said Tom suddenly, spinning around. "A lord's woman is called a Lady, Lestrange. You would do well to remember titles..." He said warningly, eying up his opposite in an intruding manner. Lestrange cleared his throat but nodded after gulping, smiling hectically. "Forgive me, my lord."
Tom still stared at Lestrange, only lazily dragging his gaze away. "Joelle will be asleep throughout the process. And I shall stay with her until everything is set up. I want you to call me on time."
"Yes, of course," said Lestrange, bowing. Tom turned around and walked off, back into the room where Joelle was. He sat down next to her on the edge of the couch, stretching out his hand to run through her hair, which caused Joelle to blink her eyes open. She stretched with a smile that Tom reflected for once.
"I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered.
"For how long have I been asleep?"
"Maybe two hours. You should go back to sleep, you need it."
"I've never been so tired before...it feels like my energy is completely gone," she yawned. Tom nodded. "The training is what has been tiring you. That's normal."
"Are wizards and witches tired from using magic, too?"
"You are a witch, Joelle," said Tom firmly. But he proceeded with his answer. "And yes, young witches and wizards, too, are getting exhausted. But as we learn to use magic and control it, we grow accustomed to it. We learn to channel magic and energy at an early age - and that's why it exhausts you more. You never learned it."
Joelle nodded slowly to signal she was understanding what Tom talked about, rubbing her eyes as Tom ran his hand through Joelle's hair again. "You've done well today," he murmured. "You're very talented."
Joelle smiled lightly, then huffed when she noticed that his flattery was working. She turned her face away, resulting in hearing Tom's light chuckle. He was in such a good mood lately. The sad thing was that his good mood was based on his success of dominating her.
"A talented witch like you should be in her natural habitat," said Tom.
"And what's that?" Joelle asked. "On a broomstick, flying through the air with a black cat?"
Tom sighed and shook his head. "Oh dear no, haven't I told you that you'll never ride a broomstick? Such vulgarness."
The corners of Joelle's mouth twitched up.
"I still don't understand what's so bad about it. Apparently it's very common."
"But we aren't common, Joelle," said Tom with a tone of finality that made further questions seem unimportant. "We will explore a lot together."
"Explore?" Joelle asked. Tom nodded. "Now, I told you I want to travel with you. You have to understand my world, it'll assist the forming of your magical signature."
"But-"
"Sleep now."
Two or three hours later, Joelle was still asleep. But she woke up due to her stomach giving a quiet rumble. When she looked around, she realized that Tom wasn't there. It was dark. And Joelle panicked out of nowhere. She noticed how her heart began to beat rapidly against her chest - she was scared, scared to be alone, scared to be attacked, scared that Tom might not make it in time if he had left once more. He was gone. She got out of the bed, swaying to the left upon the pressuring fear pondering against her forehead, taking her breath away.
The door was locked.
Joelle's eyes widened, the air got thinner, her voice raspy, her throat felt clasped together, as if somebody wanted to choke her. She glanced to her hands that were visible through the moonlight. They were shaking. And her wand was not there. Joelle panted heavily, trying to calm down, but she has never felt like this before. The panic attack got so severe that the world around her began to spin, and when Joelle pulled on her hair in desperation of making it stop, she ripped on the door handle - and was surprised when it opened. Magic? Whatever it was, Joelle carefully glanced to the left and right as she peeped her head out into the empty hallway decorated with portraits.
"There, the little mudblood is spying!" Hissed a painted man with grey hair and black attire. He had mean eyes that were narrowed to hateful slits. Joelle frowned at him. She forgot that magic could bring paintings to life.
"What's the noise, Comet? Ah, look who's awake. Tat-tat! He didn't tell her a thing!" Laughed a man with a red beard and dark eyes, clapping on his red gowned knees.
"Tell me what?" Inquired Joelle. But Comet, the old gray man, just crossed his arms and looked away. "The noble house of Lestrange has no business with your foul kind."
Joelle pulled her head away, her lips gapped open as she glanced to the left and right with big eyes insecurely, rubbing her forearm.
"Now go, shoo, to hell with you!" Barked Comet, raising his fist into the air.
Joelle pushed herself against the wall, then quickly took off into the other direction, covering her ears at the other paintings' hissing of "mudblood!".
When Joelle came down another corridor, she noticed a wooden door in the distance that was slightly tilted open. The only reason why she had seen it was the orange dimmed light shining from it, drawing her closer like a moth. She glanced around, to the left and right, but proceeded her way towards it. She now stood next to the door in order to hear something first, and soon recognized some chattering. Intruders? Or Tom? And why in secret? Joelle inhaled deeply and pulled the door open, gritting her teeth upon the silent squeaks that the wood gave away. She really didn't want to get caught now.
Ahead of her was a staircase leading down, apparently this was a basement. Joelle leaned her head to the north, trying to hear more, but the silent muffling too quiet to understand. She cautiously stepped ahead, constantly tilting her head around to make sure nobody was there. And then she saw them. In the distance, on the couch, were Tom, Avery, Black, Nott, Lestrange, Mulciber and Rosier - the latter whispering up to Tom, and Tom turned around to see Joelle.
"Joelle, dear. Come here," he said softly. Joelle felt uncomfortable with being the center of attention - even though Avery, by the look of his hateful glance, was certain she enjoyed it. Tom opened his arm, waiting until Joelle walked close enough to pull her down next to him, kissing her forehead. Joelle tried her best not to look at anyone when this happened, but as everyone looked at her it was sheer impossible.
"How did you get out of the room," Avery asked, but a glance from Tom made him add, "Lady Joelle?"
Joelle's eyebrows twitched together but she did not know how to respond - she was so taken aback by the title that she looked to Tom searchingly.
"I'm certain she did not want to miss the show," cooed Tom. "Right?"
"Show? What show?" Joelle asked, looking around, not understanding what was going on. But she knew, deep inside, that she would not like it.