Chapter 12: Plan
Beware the fury of a patient man - John Dryden
As Tom held the letter in his hands, a slight smirk crept up his lips. Taking a glimpse at the single characters, he could see that they were a little smeared and the paper was wrinkly at those spots; Joelle must have been crying while writing this, she surely felt deeply sorry for Tom, maybe even pitied him, hated herself for ignoring him. Oh Joelle. It was too easy.
Then a thought hit Tom. She was asking him to be okay with Bryan? His face darkened. Maybe it wasn't so easy in the end.
"Hey Tom." Smiled a girl. She was the most annoying person Tom has met up to date; a short blonde about his age, giggling all the time whenever he passed by somewhere. She reminded him of Amy. And anything close to Amy deserved to be ignored. Surely he somewhat cared, Joelle said. Hilarious. Tom sighed, sitting down on the couch in the common room, his eyes wandering out of the window for a moment.
"Ah, here you are." Said Black. A tall dark haired boy, accompanied by Avery and Lestrange. There were also Nott, Rosier and Mulciber belonging to this group - and for some strange reason they have made Tom to be the leader. Not that Tom minded it, quite in fact, it automatically came along with his quiet but severe nature. Tom was sure that this would prove to be beneficial in the future.
"Did you finish the essay for Transfiguration?" Asked Black. Tom nodded, still staring out of the window with his eyes narrowing steadily in concentration, watching some creatures swimming by.
"Who exactly is Sylus." He then asked in a demanding tone; he could not be sure that the others knew, but he simply expected them to know.
"The Farleys are a pureblood family." Shrugged Nott. "According to my father at least."
Tom has run across the term pureblood on his very first day at Hogwarts. It was a fairly easy concept. A pureblood was a person with magical parents; someone like Black, who comes from a family with an ancient pureblood tradition. A halfblood was then a person with at least one magical parent, someone like Avery - and the other term...
"As long as he isn't a filthy mudblood." Laughed Black, causing Tom to narrow his eyes.
"Shut up," Tom hissed agitatedly. Joelle.
After glancing to the left and right in insecurity, Black cleared his throat, his laughing died out on an instant; he seemed a little nervous now.
"You don't think...mudbloods are okay, do you?" Asked Lestrange cautiously. Tom fixed him with his eyes.
"The term is so awful that I don't even want to think about it." He murmured dangerously; receiving nods and grinning of agreement from the other boys.
"You must come from a pureblood family. You are so talented! All the classes we have had so far, you already knew everything." Said Nott, his voice filled with awe.
Tom rolled his eyes. He read the books. If that's all it takes to come from a pureblood family then there was no blood purer than his; for he almost swallowed each word after returning from Diagon Alley that day. Joelle was with him; they read the books together. And Joelle was far from being a pureblood in the traditional sense of the word. And Tom? Tom did not know what exactly his blood status was. He had to find out about his parents first. His eyes narrowed again as he glanced at Black. Somebody like him grew up with magic - could he have an advantage? No. Tom would never allow this to be the case.
A couple of days passed and the first thing that Tom noticed was that he felt something he has never felt before. It was a strange feeling of warmth that spread in his body whenever he lay in bed, thinking of the day, looking around the dark room, taking in the scent of the food the next morning, the clothes he was wearing, the books he read, the people he talked to. It took him a long time to realize what it was - and strangely, everything felt like Joelle. He could not wrap his mind around it; how can something feel like a person? It wasn't anything he could describe, even if his life depended on it. It was just strange, so strange. Was this how somebody felt when they thought of home?
Before Tom knew it, September was gone and would never come back.
Dear Joelle,
It's the first of October and I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. I hope you're doing well. It's Saturday - you surely must have something planned, right? Let me know how your day was and what you've been doing,
Marvolo
Tom growled a little when he watched the owl flying away. He hated the fact that her birthday fell on a Saturday - a Saturday meant a chance for Joelle to celebrate the day in a way he surely would not approve of; containing meeting a lot of friends in the evening - and those friends always come with other males, and men bring alcohol. It was a societal law that nobody could deny. But Joelle, his Joelle, was not like that, Tom knew it. She had always despised alcohol, saying it didn't taste good and thus wouldn't fall under the curse of weird behavior. Tom trusted Joelle - but he did not trust anyone around her. Soon.
Soon.
After some time there was one thing that Tom Riddle could not help but feel. And how much he hated to admit it, that one thing that he thought would change. The first couple of weeks were exciting for him, but there it was again, that creeping sensation of dullness and boredom taking over his senses, blinding him. All that mattered was to be the best - because he was. But he was goalless. No. He had one goal. Soon.
Appreciation was a state left for those that have not seen through how the world works. Things were so simple, a lot easier than that - was not taking whatever Tom pleased just how he could make it work? By the end of November, Tom Riddle was one of the most ambitious students Hogwarts has ever seen, the sorting hat did well in determining his true nature. But Tom had to redirect the anger he felt in his body, a type of anger he could not very well explain how it emerged. Hogwarts did not yet feel like it truly was his home.
Tom's heart pondered faster each time Joelle sent back a letter. There was a nauseating twitch in his stomach every morning during breakfast, hoping she had written back. The fear of not being able to control her response remained present ever since their first argument over Bryan - it did not leave Tom. Quite in fact, it became painful. Yes, Tom felt sick just thinking of not receiving a letter in the mornings anymore.
December was heartless. Cold and heartless. Not because of the weather and snow - December was luring and inevitable - it taught Tom much more than he wanted to be taught. It taught him patience. The closer he got to the day of meeting Joelle again, the longer it seemed to take to get there. Where September passed within hours, December required years.
Tom had his things packed for almost a week, did not talk to anyone for a while. The Blacks noticed that Tom was oddly staring out of the windows for a long time and paid extra attention during Dumbledore's class - it was almost as if he was hiding something. None of them ever dared to ask Tom, they have soon noticed that strange things happened whenever he was angered or provoked.
And then Friday came. Friday, the 23rd of December 1938.
Wool's orphanage looked the same as always. Thick snow was spread across the yard and the building; even more of the flakes rained down in London that night of Tom's arrival. He had not said a word to anyone and did not respond to Joelle's letter when she asked where and when he wanted to be picked up. Surely poor Joelle thought he did not want to come.
"Ellie! The cookies didn't survive, I'm sorry!" It squeaked from the kitchen.
Joelle.
Joelle bent over to the oven to get out the charcoal colored cookies that left a stinging scent in the air and hissed upon burning herself on the hot metal, pulling her index finger away to inspect it curiously.
"Clumsy as always" said a voice. Joelle let the cookies drop on an instant, she whirled around with widened eyes and a mouth gapping open in surprise when she saw who was leaning against the doorframe all too cooly.
"Marvolo!" She squeaked in a high pitched voice and instantly ran over to Tom, pulling him against her chest, hugging him so incredibly tight that he felt like she tried to squeeze the daylight out of him. But what was that? Tears?
"Joelle..." Tom said softly. "Don't cry" he murmured, but couldn't help a small grin creeping up his lips. Cry all you want over me.
"Why didn't you tell me! We would've picked you up - how did you even get here?!" Frowned Joelle, ripping herself away from Tom to look into his eyes, observing his face, checking if everything was in place. Tom shook his head with that faint grin.
"I took the bus. I wanted to surprise you" he spoke gently, chuckling when Joelle merely hugged him again and kissed the top of his head a dozen of times.
"I missed you so much, snowman" she whispered gently, tucking on Tom's clothes, dusting him off, making sure he was perfectly alright. The irony was almost hilarious when he glanced over to the burnt cookies.
"Come, Joelle. We need to catch up a little." Said Tom, grabbing her hand to walk upstairs, ignoring the gasping of the other children once they spotted him. Tom walked inside his room, smirking as he looked around.
"You moved." He said in surprise. Joelle chuckled and sat down.
"Eric and Billy should have their own rooms and so I moved here. It's all yours, of course. But while nobody used it..." she shrugged. Tom looked at her, then around the room again. It was covered in pictures - Joelle loved photographs and it was almost needless to say that there were a bunch of them everywhere, even some of the both of them.
"You should have moved in earlier. When I was still here." Said Tom then, causing Joelle's smile to turn upside down, confronted with the fact that Tom was no longer a true part of this orphanage anymore.
"Don't be sad, Joelle. I'm allowed to stay here for two weeks." Said Tom gently.
"Two weeks?! That's awesome!" Squeaked Joelle in joy, then sat closer to Tom.
"Tell me everything about Hogwarts! How do you like it?" She spluttered out, her eyes lit up with her typical way of making somebody think that her attention was unshared and would only belong to them - Joelle could look at someone and give them the feeling that they were the only thing that mattered in the world. She usually reserved this expression for Tom only - or at least he liked to believe this to be the case.
"Oh come on, I've been telling you everything about Hogwarts and the classes in the letters" He sighed, shaking his head. "No, I want to know exactly how you spent your time." He raised an eyebrow.
"Didn't I tell you in the letters?" Grinned Joelle, chuckling when Tom pushed her head away gently.
"Clumsy as always. Cheeky as always." Sighed Tom, resting back against the wall while he observed her closely. Nothing changed. Joelle looked the same, acted the same, smelled the same. She was still Joelle, despite his absence. She was still Joelle.
His Joelle.
"Can you believe it's been exactly a year since the incident with John?" He suddenly asked. Joelle frowned, then nodded.
"You're right. A year. It feels like it's been yesterday. What did we even do during spring and summer? Or autumn? It's like everything just happened in winter" she smiled, shaking her head. Tom looked at her; a slight frown spread across his face. He remembered every single day with Joelle, but of course, the most intense time was shared during the cold days. Joelle smiled when she saw Tom's face concentrating on some thoughts, she tucked on his scarf.
"I'm glad to see you're wearing it" she said softly, ruffling through his hair. Tom looked up to her - she was the only one allowed to touch him, yet she was probably quite unaware of that privilege.
"Of course I'm wearing it" murmured Tom. "I lost us five housepoints because I chose this scarf over our Slytherin ones. They're quite strict when it comes to the uniform attire." Murmured Tom, sighing a bit when Joelle laughed, probably imagining his face that day. He shook his head and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of her voice - but his eyes shot up again when Joelle pulled him into a tight hug once more. She was always such a warm and physical person, inviting to get hurt.
"The rules..." Tom then whispered. Joelle let go, frowning while tilting her head to the side in disbelief.
"Ah, come on! You're not even here for half an hour and you're already all about the rules." She shook her head at him, but of course she wasn't exactly angered.
"Is that the scent of a bad conscience?" Asked Tom with a grin, his hypnotizing eyes fixed on her.
"Bad pff, no. I've been a good girl." She chuckled when Tom huffed.
"Can you prove that you were?" He asked.
"Can you prove that I wasn't?" She asked back. They stared at each other for a while - they always did so when they had a semi-discussion and tried to be serious afterwards, looking into each other's faces to check who of them would chuckle or grin first; needless to say that it usually was Joelle whose facial expression contorted in painful attempts to suppress the amusement. And so she lost this time as well.
"I caught you" said Tom, leaning back yet again while listening to Joelle laughing out loud.
"No, that's not fair, you know I always laugh when you stare at me like that. How can you not even grin?" She shook her head, sighing, chuckling again. Joelle was in such a good mood, Tom felt light around her. Most of the girls were enormously annoying with all their giggles and squeaks - but it did not bother Tom at all with Joelle because he was very well aware where her good mood came from; she was happy to see him again after such a long time. He was the reason. He alone. How could he be annoyed of that?
"Hey" Joelle then said softly, her tone more quiet, her smile vanishing a slight bit and Tom knew there would come a serious conversation now. She always said "hey" as an introduction to a topic that could hurt him - could be insensitive. She did never want to throw him into a situation or question without giving this kind warning. Tom looked up to her curiously.
"Did you find out something about your father?" She then asked. Tom shook his head at once.
"Nothing..." he murmured. "Headmaster Dippet doesn't remember any other Riddle student. It's likely that-"
"he wasn't a wizard" finished Joelle thoughtfully but Tom glared, outraged on an instant.
"Of course he was a wizard!" he snapped, causing Joelle to pull her head back in surprise, holding up her hands in a "don't attack" kind of way.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude, I just thought you were going to say that, too" she tried to explain but Tom was still angered, his nostrils flared as he glowered at the wardrobe. "I would never say something like that."
"Marvolo..." Said Joelle, her eyebrows twitching together. "I really didn't mean to-"
"I know you didn't." Sighed Tom then, his frown unwrinkling as his eyes swept over to her. She clearly felt bad about what she said - and that's all he wanted to achieve.
"Tell me about your friends" Joelle then smiled, changing the topic.
"Friends?" Tom asked with a raised eyebrow. Joelle nodded.
"The people I get along with", he emphasized, "are...", he paused, glancing up to the ceiling, then shrugged, "are just there, I suppose."
"Oh snowman...surely you want to make some friends, I mean, those kids are like you" she smiled, clearly under the belief that she complimented Tom - whose eyes widened in another wave of rage.
"They. Are. Not. Like. Me" he growled, about to bark again but Joelle quickly interrupted.
"Of course they're not - but they know magic. That automatically connects you, doesn't it?"
"I don't think so" murmured Tom with a glare, resulting in a sigh from Joelle.
"Honey, I think you're tired. You're all agitated, maybe you should get some sleep" she patted his head, wanting to get up, but Tom pulled her back down.
"I haven't come here to be told that my father might be a filthy muggle and that I'm like any other student at Hogwarts, Joelle!" He squeezed her hand so hard that she had to flinch away from him, her mouth gapped open, not understanding her wrongdoings.
"Marvolo..." she said quietly, looking into his eyes. He looked back and, as always, could not remain angry for too long - Joelle did not mean to hurt him. He ran his hands through his hair, bending over to his lap, he could feel the change of atmosphere, Joelle felt insecure, she glanced to the left and right - and all that the both of them feared was that things had already changed too much between them after those months.
"You're so...unhappy..." Joelle suddenly said, her voice croaking a slight bit and Tom knew she tried to fight the tears. Tom did not respond, he merely and aimlessly stared ahead. The tenseness of the atmosphere increased until it dissolved at once with Tom's next few words.
"I just miss you, Joelle." He said gently, watching how Joelle started to smile again - but her joy grew beyond measure when for once it was Tom who opened his arms for her - and she instantly hugged him tightly.
"I do have the perfect Christmas present for you." Whispered Tom, grinning ahead into the distance as his eyes narrowed steadily.
If only she knew.
Soon.
