Chapter 18: Paranoia
There is no such thing as paranoia. Your worst fears can become true at any moment. - Hunter S. Simpson
Days passed. A new year has begun and that feeling of change was lingering in the air. Tom felt provoked by destiny and used to pick up a couple of fights during the past few days, he was oddly strict and intolerant towards anything around him, especially when it came to Joelle. Today was one of those days, too.
"Because I don't want you to walk around in the common room. I want you to stay in the dormitory. I'm not going to further discuss this with you." Tom grumbled lowly, crossing his arms. Joelle just sighed.
"Remember that we have a deal. That's all I'm going to say" she shrugged, but Tom narrowed his eyes at her.
"I said we won't further discuss this," Tom murmured, about to say something else, but Joelle cut him off.
"Watch it, Marvolo", she stated firmly and none of them spoke another word.
Change. What a foolish condition. Change meant adjusting the plans for Tom - and he hated everything he couldn't control. So when young Tom lay in his bed later that night, he was completely unaware of the shock that awaited him the next morning.
"Tom!" Panted Avery running into the Great Hall, sitting down to Tom while trying to catch his breath. "Here, here, look!" He whispered exasperatedly. Tom glanced up from his plate, staring at Avery.
"What do I care about the muggle newspaper?"
"Mom always sends it to me, read! Please!" Avery pleaded.
Tom raised an eyebrow and pulled the newspaper out of Avery's hand, shaking his head in annoyance as he started to read. His eyes widened. No. No. No.
"She has been reported as missing..." Tom whispered and stared into the distance. Avery nodded, pulling away the newspaper when he noticed that Sylus Farley had begun to read the article with concentration.
"That girl," said Sylus, pointing to Joelle's picture, "isn't she the one who accompanied you to the train, Riddle?"
"No", Tom shook his head. "That picture from the newspaper doesn't look anything like her."
"Hm." Sylus rubbed his strong jawline. "Who was she anyway? Your sister?"
"I don't think that's your business, Farley," Tom grumbled and walked off with so much anger boiling inside him that he did not know where to go with it. This was one of the changes that Tom was afraid of. He glared and stormed into his dormitory, closing the door with such a loud thud that Joelle jumped up from her sleeping position.
"I knew this would happen..." Tom hissed, transforming her back.
"What happened?" Joelle asked, rubbing her eyes. She was still half asleep. Tom stared at her for a few seconds, then decided against telling her. It might awake her longing for home.
"Too excited," said Tom. "That's all. It will be better soon, I'm sure. School is going to start tomorrow. I'm excited for you to see the lessons."
"I'm excited to watch you flying on a broomstick," Joelle grinned but Tom shook his head immediately.
"No way I'm letting you see that. No. No, Joelle! Stop grinning like a cat. No." He shook his head again, causing Joelle to chuckle lowly before she sighed, turning her face away. Tom noticed that something was wrong. His heart started to race again. What if she wants to leave?
"What is it? You said you weren't hungry earlier," he asked.
"It's not that," Joelle sat down on the bed, pulling her legs up.
"You miss somebody," Tom stated knowingly but with no color in his voice yet.
"I miss somebody, yes..." said Joelle with a forced smile. She was about to explain, but Tom's red head was close to exploding when he hissed.
"It's Bryan, isn't it!"
"Snowman...you can't expect me to forget everything and-"
"I can! I forget, too!" Tom almost yelled, his voice raising slightly. He sat down in front of Joelle. "You don't understand what I've done for us, do you? Do you understand? Bryan. Perfect Bryan! What did he ever do for you to justify his position in your mind?!"
Joelle just sighed, turning her face away. Tom wanted to yell at her again, but he was wiser than that.
"Answer me," he said.
"He's my friend," Joelle sighed.
"You don't need friends" Tom grumbled through gritted teeth, but Joelle merely smiled.
"Are we not friends?" She asked. Tom thought about it, but little did he know that he would not, and probably never, find an answer to this simple question. Joelle? His friend? But if she wasn't his friend, then what was she? What was left between them? Tom leaned back, and for once had to admit that there was no single term for their condition at all. He liked it. Whatever they were, whatever they had, it was, in a positive way, undefinable. It was uncommon. It was special.
"Good morning students," greeted the cheerful voice of Professor Slughorn the next day. School has started again. Joelle was cuddled in Tom's lap as always, having become quite the attraction during the previous lessons. Professor Slughorn had no problem at all with allowing Tom his cat because he has rarely seen a cat this disciplined and intuitive towards their human master. Tom grinned proudly, ruffling through Joelle's fur as she sniffed on a potion that he started brewing.
"Oh! By the way!" Said Slughorn while whirling around upon a memory. "I will hand out the essays I had received before the holidays and collect those due for today."
Some groaning erupted from Joelle's left side; Nott, Mulciber and Lestrange seemed to have forgotten another assignment, which Slughorn very well noticed as soon as he came closer to their table and, with a pitiful smile, gave them some evenings of detention before moving on over to Tom and Joelle.
"Excellent work, Riddle. Your skills for research and critical thinking are exquisite. Keep up the good work. And twenty points for Slytherin! Ah, can't wait to read this one" Slughorn collected Tom's new essay and walked off. Joelle purred, kneading against Tom's stomach with her paws and nuzzled down again.
If only that pressing feeling of change would not linger in Tom's head he would be in a better mood. Those stupid people. Stupid Mrs. Cole. Stupid Mr. Cole. Why were they looking for Joelle? After all, she, well he, left them a letter, saying she would be okay and didn't want anyone come looking for her. Tom was not worried about The Daily Prophet releasing an article as well - what did they care about a person being missed in the muggle world when they had their own population to worry about? Tom just knew one thing. He could never let Joelle go back now that she has been reported as missing. And he needed to seriously take care of those who knew who Joelle truly was. His eyes wandered over to his male classmates, then ahead again, listening to Slughorn's instructions.
It was true. Joelle did not get to see Tom flying on a broomstick because he made sure to bring her back down into the dungeons before class. Cuddled to Merlin, the both of them jumped up with bushy tails. There was noise coming from the common room.
"Nobody will mention Joelle's name...and if one of you dares to tell anyone who Joelle is...or where...she is..." Tom growled dangerously, eyes glowing red.
"You will regret it. And trust me, I will find each one of you, no matter where you are - and I shall make you and your families suffer for your treachery. Have I made myself clear?" Tom had his wand pointed at Lestrange and Mulciber whose backs were pressed against the wall, nodding with a whimpering sound. To their feet lay Nott and Black cowering in pain.
Tom was about to say something else, but glanced back and quickly stalked off when he heard somebody marching in. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Sylus Farley.
Time has passed. By the end of January, the only place Tom transformed Joelle back was in "their" room up on the seventh floor that only appeared when thinking about it. Tom has never found out the right term for it, but he didn't care, he knew it was there for them and that's all that mattered.
As usual, they were currently busy studying together. Tom had taken the time to lean back and stare at Joelle reading; something he has been doing for a while. Not only this afternoon, but in general. He liked to sit and watch how she moved, how she glanced around, how her lips formed the words. He found it very intriguing how she handled situations or how she reacted, and inwardly commented all of her gestures and quirks. For instance he noticed that Joelle preferred to smile without her teeth; even though they were perfectly alright and Tom actually liked her toothy smile. Another thing that he noticed about her was how she tilted her head to the side when listening to him, which was another reason for Tom to think that she knew how to make him feel like nothing else mattered.
"I really like unicorns," she suddenly said. Tom sighed with a nod, he didn't expect anything else.
"Surely you would have a unicorn hair for your wand's core. Seems like that'd be your match," said Tom. "I see nothing else that could work for you. Anyway..." He sighed, feeling bored. He glanced over to the bookshelf again, cautiously pulling out the Legilimency book while Joelle was still busy reading about unicorns. Tom liked the strong contrast of interests - but he could not help it. Despite Joelle's clear position, he had to learn the technique, to infiltrate people's minds, to make sure to recognize the slightest of displaced thought that could rip him and Joelle apart. He wouldn't allow it to happen.
He couldn't.
One should think that, as time passed, Tom would have calmed down by the point of mid March, but he did not. He became so controlling that he locked Joelle into her cage whenever he was not there, which was the case during the flying lessons and especially the Transfiguration lessons; it was clear from the start that Tom would never take Joelle with him to put her under Dumbledore's curious nose - the old man had a mysterious talent for seeing through most things.
"Very proficient usage of our latest chapter's charms, Tom," said Professor Dumbledore after class; Tom was last to pack his things up.
"Thanks for your kind words, Sir," said Tom dryly, about to leave, but he stopped dead in his tracks when Dumbledore continued.
"Especially the transfiguration of the hamster. Dare I confess my wondering about a certain topic? You see, my colleagues speak highly of the interactions between you and your cat during their lessons - and l ask myself why has Tom never brought the cat here into my classroom where it makes most sense to bring it?"
Tom gulped, not yet responding to Dumbledore. His fists subconsciously clenched, but he turned around with a gentle smile.
"I don't bring her to the flying lessons either, professor. I can assure you it has absolutely nothing to do with you, of course. I might be a tad too scared that one of my transfiguration attempts may hurt my cat."
"Someone like you, whose spells and charms have never gone wrong?" Asked Dumbledore. Tom felt how his innards started to burn. Dumbledore asked too much, implied too much.
"My cat means a lot to me, Sir. I just don't want anything bad to happen. I'm sorry, but I must go now. I need to do research for Professor Binns' essay," smiled Tom.
Dumbledore did not respond the smile at first, but eventually did. "I see, Tom. Off you go. Ah, Minerva, how can I help you?" Dumbledore turned around to a girl walking into the classroom. Tom saw her playing for Gryffindor's Quidditch team. He did not care much about the sport, but he remembered well when McGonagall was the reason for Slytherin's downfall two weeks ago - of course he disliked her ever since. If only he had enough time to trouble his mind about the painful loss of the match, he would think about a plan to make McGonagall's life a little less enjoyable, but all he could think of was Dumbledore's words. Did the old man know something, or was Tom exaggerating, overthinking, paranoid?
Tom needed time to think. He aimlessly walked around in the castle, passing by the first floor, then stopped when he thought he heard somebody saying something, but no one was close. He looked round, to the left and right, then jumped back when something moved.
"Itty bitty Riddle, looking so little! Little, poor Riddle!" Peeves the poltergeist suddenly sang along while flying above Tom's head. Tom glared up to Peeves, but said nothing as he proceeded his way upstairs, ignoring the song that echoed throughout the whole castle.
"What's wrong little itty bitty Riddle? Don't you like the song? Peeves can move along! Tom doesn't like the song!" Peeves sang and cheered, flying around Tom, but the latter still ignored him.
"Making Riddle sad? What a shame, Peeves will sing about somebody else, will you tell me your cat's name?" Peeves laughed heartily and that's when Tom stopped walking. Out of nowhere, his m heart started beating so fast that the world around him began to spin, the staircase changed its direction, Tom clung to the stony surface, kneeling down onto the steps, he felt dizzy, he felt sick, but had an uncontrollable urge to destroy Peeves, to find a spell useful enough to make him disappear for good.
With his eyes flickering red, he stared up to the poltergeist; it gasped and flew higher.
"The devil lives, it lives right here!" yelled Peeves and flew off in fear. Tom's fingers stiffened around the staircase, his skin was paler than snow, his breathing strong and heavy. He stormed up to the seventh corridor, wishing for nothing more than to delve into the forbidden fruits of dark magic.
Why it set him off so much? Tom himself had only an idea. The fact that Peeves asked for Joelle's name - the tiny chance that Peeves would sing her name so loud that Dumbledore could hear it. Tom was careful not to say her name outside the dungeons - for good reasons.
Dumbledore knew Joelle, he possibly knew how close they were, he surely knew Joelle was missing, he knew Tom got a new cat days after she has been reported as missing, he knew that Tom was a proficient user of Transfiguration. And if Dumbledore then came to know that Tom had a cat called Joelle...No. Tom couldn't stand the thought.
He growled in destructive anger, still feeling dizzy, walking into their study room. He sighed when he flopped down on a chair, running his hands through his hair while his knee wobbled up and down. He exhaled deeply, closing his eyes, but frowned as soon as he opened them again.
The bookshelves looked different. Instead of the usual blank and wooden brown, they were now dark and had decorated pediments on top. Tom scowled and got up, walking over to them, inspecting a random section.
Theory of Black Magic.
Necromancy: How to Curse the Dead.
Killing Vampires and Werewolves.
Avada Kedavra, Imperio, Crucio: Legal Until Caught.
Tom's eyes lit up. His face turned into a grimace of mischievous joy. Something or someone wanted him to find this room with these books. Something or someone chose him, he knew it. He reached out his hand, but withdrew it when somebody entered his mind. Joelle would never want him to read any of these things. Tom narrowed his eyes, refusing to listen to her reasoning. Did she not know that she was the reason why?
"I'm doing this for us...Life is complex - so are actions. And they say the future can't be determined, tsk. I shall cover every opportunity, and then, Joelle Cole, you show me how you can escape..." Tom whispered to himself as he pulled out a book.
"Soul Binding: The Unbreakable Bond."
AN: oh Tom...
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