Chapter 23: What I Have Become

"He was the second snowman to be melting away before her eyes, only this one was different. It was a paradox. The colder he became, the more he melted." - Markus Zusak in: The Book of Thief

"Marvolo..." Joelle whispered to herself, staring at the man in the distance. Tom's gaze flickered over to her. He chuckled lowly, unnervingly, unpredictably.

"Marvolo..." He repeated in an almost purr, closing his eyes. "I haven't heard this name in so long..." He murmured, fixing her with his red gleam before he glanced once more at the female in the distance. Joelle did not change at all, she still looked the same even as the young woman that she now was.

"Martha...Amy, Dennis...What- why, was it...no- it wasn't you! You couldn't, you-you wouldn't?" Joelle stammered in a high pitched croak, trying not to look to the dead bodies.

"Oh Joelle..." Tom whispered audibly enough, his eyes focused on her, observing every inching movement.

"Quite in fact...our dear Miss Kenneth received a message from a stranger earlier this day, my dear. Said stranger, oh. What's the game for? I...", he paused to grin, "have made sure that she would show up here at seven รณ clock in the evening..." He spoke businesslike. Joelle frowned, not understanding a thing.

"Marvolo! Please tell me that it wasn't you!" She screamed, walking backwards. "Please..."

"I'm afraid that by evidence it was not me, Joelle, for nobody has seen me entering the orphanage."

And then it clicked. Joelle raised her head in awareness.

"You told Mrs. Kenneth to come here to see me walking inside..." She whispered. "To make it seem as though it was me?"

"Dear officer Bryan will be most heartbroken to see his former love in the middle of this scenery..."

"They would never believe that! I have no reason to kill any of them!" Joelle yelped, shaking her head furiously. Tom merely smiled; a cold smile.

"Mrs. Kenneth witnessed something else." Tom held up his wand. "At least I made sure that she thinks so..." He tapped the tip of his wand against his temple. "And then the fact that you were an unstable person in the past, needing therapy...tragic, don't you think, Joelle?"

Nothing was said for such a long time that it felt like mocking to eternity. Tears welled up in Joelle's eyes, her fists clenched and she stared down to the ground. "Why..." She croaked. "Why are you doing this to me!?"

Tom chuckled again. He stepped closer, his dark cloak shifting as he walked ahead. Joelle moved backwards until she met the wooden panels of the wall; eyes widened when Tom stood in front of her and reached out his hand to her face, causing Joelle to gasp and hold her breath when his cold fingers tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm doing this to us." Tom murmured, his face did not twitch the slightest, but there was a gleam in his eyes that told Joelle that her dear snowman has melted once and for all and instead built up something far colder.

"You haven't changed, Joelle...even after so many years...Shhh. Don't cry." He wiped away a tear from her face with his thumb, towering intimidatingly above her. He checked the time.

"Almost seven. Let's go. Shall we?" He asked, pulling up a bag over his shoulder that Joelle stared at for a few seconds. So he had packed her clothes. She glanced at him defeatedly, then simply walked over to him without another word. Tom stared at her for a little longer before he wrapped his firm hand around her wrist - and together they disappeared.

Joelle stood in the middle of a salon; feeling dizzy and nauseated, but the feeling was replaced by surprise when she glanced around. Everything looked exquisite, not to mention forbiddingly expensive. Did this belong to him?

"You are standing on the grounds of my father's generous abode, which I so involuntarily inherited after his...sudden death," Tom mumbled, his index finger brushing along a ring on his hand, but Joelle said nothing. The pictures of Amy and Dennis and the others were still swirling in her head, hollowing her eyes that shot up when Tom's hand pressed to the small of her back, leading her to one of the wide leathery couches. She stiffly sat down with him, still staring ahead with the expression of a startled deer. Silence.

"Why do you want me to be here?" Joelle then asked quietly, carefully glancing to him. Tom fixed her with his steadily narrowing eyes; he did not answer her question.

"Things have changed, Joelle. I'm not the foolish little boy that I once was," he said, and with a flick of his wand, upon which Joelle twitched, two glasses of wine appeared.

"Marvolo..." Whispered Joelle.

"I hear you were almost done studying psychology," said Tom; holding a glass out to her. Joelle took it but did not spend a single second believing she would ever drink it.

Tom, however, had a sip. He leaned there so nonchalantly, an arm resting along the couch, one leg above the other. He had changed so much, looking nothing like the boy he used to be. Tom Riddle grew up to become a handsome but murderous young man. Tears streamed down Joelle's cheeks, she clung to her knees as she stared to her lap again, shaking her head at a thought. Tom chuckled.

"But dear Joelle...what are those tears for that you cry? You have heard about people like me throughout your studies, haven't you? Do you think you could have changed something?" His voice sounded thin and almost mockingly amused.

"Why..." Whispered Joelle again. "I don't understand..."

Tom said nothing, observing her.

"Why did you kill them? Why couldn't you just simply...why couldn't you just have taken me? Why kill them?" Joelle asked, her eyes and but swollen. Tom had another sip of wine.

"You tell me, Joelle. Why would people like me come back to kill scum that wouldn't even be worth their time?"

Joelle stared at him, shaking her head. "To cope with their-"

"Past?" Tom laughed suddenly, a cold and high pitched sound that thrusted shivers through Joelle. It was scarier than his glare.

"Why, I have tried so much to leave my muggle life behind. You're missing a couple of details. Come on. Try again," Tom, purred, moving the glass in his hand so that the wine swirled around in it as he observed the spiraling liquid.

"Well?" Tom asked after another minute of silence. Joelle shook her head, running her hands through her hair, bending closer to her knees, sniffling quietly.

"No idea at all?" Tom asked dryly. Joelle said nothing, but she gasped when she heard something shattering against the wall behind her; Tom threw his glass of wine and suddenly whirled her around by her shoulder, his hand gripping firmly in her hair. Joelle winced.

"You know the answer!" He hissed, eyes flickering red. Joelle's mouth was gapped open, panting quickly to cope with her heart racing against her chest.

"Say it...say it, sweet Joelle...I want to hear it," Tom whispered, slightly letting go of Joelle's hair, his thumb caressed her waggling bottom lip as she finally croaked out a tiny bit.

"You k-killed them...to...to..."

"Go on."

"To...make sure I can't ever return again..." She said quietly. Tom's eyes lit up with a bright smile and he leaned away from Joelle while grabbing her glass of wine, drinking the rest of it.

Nothing else was said for at least half an hour. Tom and Joelle sat next to each other but couldn't be further apart; and then there were these words again that gathered in Joelle's mouth but disappeared as soon as she tried to voice her thoughts. She was scared to speak.

Tom glanced at Joelle, he stared at her for the longest while, listening to her breathing that became unsteadier upon the nervousness.

"Just kill me already...why waiting?" Joelle asked. Tom's right eyebrow twitched up the slightest of bits before he showed off his brilliant white teeth in a charming smile.

"Kill you?" He asked amused. "I don't want to kill you."

"You'd do me a favor," whispered Joelle bitterly. Tom did not respond, but kept staring at her.

"Are you doing this to punish me?" Joelle then asked, looking at him. "Marvolo, back then, I, I didn't leave because-"

Tom's eyes narrowed. "I don't want to hear your excuses," he said, then waved his wand, handing over a set of dark robes to Joelle.

"Get rid of those muggle clothes," he said and got up, walking out of the room. The tall double door closed and Joelle was left behind, staring at the black dress that she let drop to the floor and ran to the door; realizing it was locked. Her heartbeat increased drastically, she looked round to see if there was another door in this huge hall-like drawing room, but she had to be disappointed. Her eyes went to the big window front, she glanced to the left and right, then grabbed a lamp and walked ahead. Her eyes flickered over to the door once more to make sure Tom wasn't going to come in, she reached out, smacked the lamp against the glass - nothing. Joelle frowned, looking to the lamp, then to the glass, trying it again - nothing. It was like she tried to hit the glass with a feather, not even a tiny scratch appeared on its surface. Joelle tried again and again, but no matter how often she tried, the window remained unharmed. Joelle sank down to her knees, the palm of her hand pressed against the window, looking out to the snowflakes that danced down the sky and wishes for nothing else than to be one of them.

"Funny..." said a voice from behind. Joelle did not even look back at Tom.

"History repeats itself. Here we go again, right, my dear?"

"What have you become..." Joelle whispered.

"What you have made me," said Tom colorlessly. "You can sit there and cry, or you can cope with it. Like I had to. You're not done yet, Joelle, you're not done paying your debts..."

"All I tried was helping you..." Joelle whispered under tears. "I tried to-"

"I said stop trying to find excuses," Tom murmured lowly. He waved his wand at her; Joelle gasped when she sat there in her underwear but before she could say something else, she was wearing the black dress Tom had given her earlier. She stared down to her body, then up to him, but he was gone already.

Joelle did not move an inch for at least another hour. She tried to think of any possible ways of getting out, even trying to focus her own magic, but it did not work. She leaned back against the wall, being reminded of John - and how she could never use her magic when she was too terrified. As the door opened again, Tom looked over to her sitting in the corner.

"Hn..." He grinned slightly. "That's exactly how I found Dennis...sitting in the corner..."

Joelle shook her head. "Don't, don't tell me!"

"And his eyes when he noticed who I was..." Said Tom, walking closer. "His screams."

"Stop!"

"Only Martha did not recognize me. What a shame, don't you think? And Amy...Amy was a lot of fun," Tom chuckled, lowering himself down to Joelle's level. Joelle tried everything to prevent herself from looking at him.

"She knew at once that it was me. You couldn't save her, could you?"

"Don't, stop!"

"She looked disgusting. I've done her a favor when I made her bleed to death, Joelle."

"STOP!" Joelle screamed, covering her ears, her knees were pulled up tightly to her stomach. Tom looked at her, reaching out his hand, Joelle squinted shut her eyes but he merely rubbed strands of hair out of her face. Joelle pulled her head away, but Tom grabbed her back firmly. He stared into her eyes; still and intense, watching how her irises danced from the left to the right in fear. Oh how much he missed it.

"Marvolo, can't we, can't we-"

"Sort it out? Talk about everything?" Tom asked softly, a fake smile embellished his handsome features. Joelle's heartbeat increased, she was scared of his unpredictable outbursts when agitated.

"You can't keep me with you forever-"

"I can't?" Tom asked. His voice was calm and smooth, but Joelle couldn't help but be reminded of a snake that slithered around and only waited for the best moment to attack.

"Marvolo, just tell me what you want, don't leave me in the dark, I-"

"Leave you in the dark..." Tom whispered, his smile vanished. Out of nowhere, he thrusted the palm of his hand next to Joelle's head against the wall, the loud BANG made her wince.

"Did you care when you have left me in the dark?" He asked in a low growl, lips only inches away from hers as he stared into her eyes. Joelle panted, she tried to say something, but Tom only rested his index finger on her bottom lip.

"Shh," he whispered. "Don't speak. Don't. Speak."

Tom got up. He towered above her, stared at her for a little longer, then turned around and vanished once more. Joelle shook her head in attempts to understand, to make sense of his actions, but she could not. Why did he do all of that? What does he want? Why did he bring her here? Being reminded of the boy that she tried to forget for the past few years, Joelle knew that Tom Marvolo Riddle did not do a thing without calculating his benefits. But what, what was he planning?