Chapter 26: Unanswered
In order to understand, I destroyed myself - Fernando Pessoa
"What..." Joelle whispered when Tom drew away from her face. He bit his bottom lip while his forehead kept resting against hers, eyes squinted shut. There was this little something that seemed to torture his sanity; his fists clenched. It looked like he wanted to voice a thought, but he didn't.
"You can't leave without an answer this time..." Joelle said when Tom merely turned around and marched off despite Joelle calling out to him. He locked the door again. And was gone.
Joelle sat down on the bed, starting to rub both of her hands through her hair in desperate attempts to understand him. Aside from the obvious, there was something else wrong with that kiss. It was so difficult to separate the young boy he once was from the older man he has become - with so much that happened while he grew up. He became even more of a stranger than he already was as a child; a boy with a terrible habit of keeping most of his thoughts to himself. Even though Joelle could only guess how much worse he had gotten during the past six years, she also knew that Tom never let go of her memory just like she could never let go of his, despite her weak attempts of trying to forget.
Still yet, she thought she had to explain to him. Had to explain why she has left those years ago, had to explain her version, had to explain why he could never find her, and what role Dumbledore played. She would do it if only she didn't know better. Tom wouldn't listen. He didn't want to hear it.
Joelle lay awake the whole night. The kiss didn't let her go. He had simply stormed up to her after a month of not appearing at all, as if she was the only thing that mattered after his return. As if that kiss could express what he truly thought - and even though it couldn't be more obvious, Joelle was left in the darkness of a mystery. What was it? What did that kiss mean? Was it a promise? Was it a threat? Did he seal something with it? Did he ask for something with it? Did he, perhaps, not think at all?
The door opened hours later. Joelle expected to see Lestrange or Black; she was sure that Tom had left again, but she was wrong. It was Tom standing by the doorframe, walking into the room to move the curtains to the side. The sun hurt Joelle's eyes after laying there in the darkness for some time, she turned her face away with a crunched up nose.
"Get up," said Tom in his usual cold voice; as if nothing of last night has even happened. For a few seconds Joelle doubted her own mental health, thinking she has just made it up, but she was sure that it was real.
"Come to the dining room in ten minutes," Tom said and left the room. After Joelle took a quick shower, she walked downstairs into the dining room which she basically never visited as she was forced to eat in the salon under the watchful eyes of Tom's puppets. She lowered herself down onto a chair, glancing at the richly filled table. Tom sat in front of her. Joelle felt her heartbeat quickening against her chest - he was here now. Questions, so many questions she wanted to ask before he would leave again and not come back for another month. Tom raised an eyebrow as he watched Joelle's mouth opening and closing again repeatedly. He smirked a little.
"I'll stay for a while," he said, sipping on his tea.
Joelle turned her face away in a slight blush upon getting caught.
"Lestrange and the rest reported that you have been trying to break out of this manor for seventeen times since my absence," he said calmly while adding honey to his bread. Joelle didn't respond.
"Let me teach you why it's unwise to show your face to the world," Tom smiled, unfolding something. Joelle's eyes widened when she saw her face on the first page of the London Local newspapers.
SHOCKING NEWS! DID SHE KILL THEM ALONE?
London. The ongoing search operation for main defendant Joelle Cole (24) has not yet come to an end. Further investigations, however, have shown a new facet of the internationally reported murder acts of late November 1945. Joelle Cole might not have performed the crime all by herself, but has possibly received aid by a man of law:
Upon a promising hint by an anonymous witness, officer Bryan Lessing (25) has been taken into custody for further investigation.
Lessing is said to have assisted his long-loved girlfriend Joelle Cole in the criminal acts, but has not yet accepted to give a public statement about the accusation.
Joelle Cole has not been seen after the murder acts of November 1945. If you have recognized the young woman (picture on the left) or know any hints of her whereabouts, please contact your local police department.
Joelle's mouth gapped open in a silent scream. Her eyes were widened, her voice merely managed to croak a tiny "Bryan...". She looked at Tom, who bit into his crunchy bread, staring at her.
"...WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!" Joelle yelled, slamming her arms onto the table's surface, bending closer to stare into Tom's eyes. Tom put his bread onto the plate all too calmly, rubbing his hands, then cleared his throat. He leaned closer over the table as well.
"I expect some more thankfulness. You don't want to receive death penalty once they catch you, do you?"
"BRYAN IS INNOCENT! I AM INNOCENT!" Joelle yelped, falling back into the chair, breaking out in hysterical tears, repeating it over and over again. "I am innocent, I am innocent..."
Tom listened to her sobbing. He watched how Joelle pulled up her knees, rocking forwards and backwards a little in attempts to calm herself down. He hasn't heard her cry like this for ages. It must have been the first time after all those years; he recognized the sound from when he had forcefully taken her to Hogwarts against her will. Sure, she cried a lot when she realized what happened in the orphanage, but shock forbade her to cry the way she cried now. Maybe realization came now with this newspaper article.
"Innocent..." Tom whispered more to himself. "You call yourself innocent?" He asked.
Joelle looked up to him with swollen red eyes and pink cheeks. Tom's eyebrows twitched together upon the view; and he noticed something about himself that he hasn't noticed before. He really liked to see her cry. Not for the reason of hurting Joelle, even though he had to admit that he liked the emotional impact he had on her, but there was something else he liked when she cried. She was so vulnerable with that perfect world shattering, she was so exposed to him when the silvery tears poured down her cheeks - it was like laying there naked.
"All his revenge..." Joelle said under a tear drowned voice. "It's pointless, so pointless..."
"Revenge?" Tom asked, then chuckled again. "What I have done was not an act of revenge. Not at all."
"I just don't understand you..." She whispered. "I just don't understand what you want...and why did you get Bryan into trouble?! He has never done anything; you didn't have a reaso-"
"I," Tom started firmly, "had enough reasons. But lets not dwell in the past. I want you to realize that this place is your shelter. If you by any chance manage to escape it's an illusion to believe that your life will be better. If law doesn't get you first, there are enough people that are very much able to kill after war, my dear. People that are waiting to let out their anger on you, a declared enemy, after such troubling times."
Joelle looked at him with those round eyes again; as if she had to slowly process the lesson Tom taught her.
"Please leave Bryan out of that..." Joelle whispered. "Please!"
Tom stared at her with the faintest of grins on his straight lined lips. "What are you willing to give me for his freedom?" He asked smoothly; as if something worked just according to plan.
"My freedom."
Tom stared at Joelle upon those words. He leaned back against the chair again, nodding while he picked up his bread. "So be it."
"But I want answers," said Joelle firmly. Tom glanced at her. "Answers?" He asked. "You will have your answers sooner or later."
"I don't care about sooner or later. I want them now," said Joelle. Tom smirked when she picked up the sternness from back then.
"You make it sound as though you have a real choice," he murmured, but Joelle merely glared. "Be fair. I just agreed on staying with you for Bryan's sake. You can at least answer my questions."
Tom chuckled again. "As you wish. Ask," he said amused.
"Why are we here? What are we doing here? Where do you go when you leave? What are you doing? Why does it take you so long to come back? Why all of this?!" She bent yet a little closer when Tom yawned. She tried to catch his eyes, but she realized that he always tried a lot not to permit her seeing into them for a long time. Tom had a very curious way of staring; almost voyeuristic to some extent. It felt like his eyes could pierce through her very soul. Each time she tried to grasp him, grasp his attention by making him look at her, making him sensitive for her situation, he blocked it away. He used his eyes as a weapon, as a shield maybe. Whatever it was, they were not like those of a normal person. These eyes were strange. Empty. But full of darkness.
"Such silly questions, Joelle," Tom then said. Joelle scowled.
"SILLY?! Silly! You-"
"I can hear you very well," said Tom calmly, his gaze flickered up to her with a warning glint. Joelle scowled more.
"I'm not stupid. I know you're planning something."
"Well then, why taking away the surprise?" Tom asked, sipping on his tea again. Joelle's face reddened with wrath. "Can't we stop these little games?!" She hissed, but raised an eyebrow when Tom's amused expression fell into stiffness upon those words. He put his cup down and bent closer across the table.
"It was never a game, Joelle. Nothing was."
Yes. How right he was. It was probably never a game. All those silly rules when he was a child, the trial, the skirmish at Hogwarts. Nothing of it was a game. Joelle turned her face away with a drawn out sigh. There was some silence for the while they stared off to different directions.
"I've always believed in you," Joelle suddenly said, her voice sounded dry and sad. The pain was audible. "I've always seen the good in you."
Tom chuckled. "If this is the part where I have to apologize for something, let me know."
Joelle looked to him again, her eyebrows twitching, bottom lip waggling a tiny bit in attemps not to cry. "I never wanted any of this to happen. I know I have hurt you when I left, but-"
Joelle suddenly jumped. Tom sprang up from his chair so abrutply that she instantly felt nauseated; he stormed out of the dining room. Joelle stared to his empty spot with her nails digged onto the wooden table's surface, but she forbade herself to let it be. She ran after Tom.
"Wait!" She called out. "Wait!" She yelled again when Tom merely marched upstairs. Joelle stood below the staircase, staring up to him, then took off after him, hurrying along the corridor.
"Marvolo!" Shouted Joelle one last time, completely out of breath. She stared ahad to the figure that kept walking, but as soon as that name left her lips, he stopped dead in his tracks. He did not turn around for at least a few seconds. There they stood, apart from each other in a lonely manor, without answers, without knowing what was happening. But something has just happend. And it happend when Joelle said that name.
She walked up to him, standing right behind his back when he suddenly turned around and grasped her chin, staring into her eyes deeply. Joelle was sure that this was one of the rare moments where they would not seem dark and empty, but full of unanswered questions, too.
"Let's train you some magic," said Tom then, letting go. Joelle nodded, following him into the empty room from a few weeks ago.
"Stand there," he pointed ahead in front of him. Joelle did so, then received her wand.
"Don't hold it so stiffly," he said. Joelle murmured something under her breath. "I must be the first one making mistakes even by holding a wand..."
By the end of the day, it turned it that Tom was either a brilliant teacher, or Joelle a great learner - she managed most of the things that he showed her. A couple of days later she was already able to levitate objects, summon her beloved unicorn books, and even manage to heal tiny wounds. Tom did not tell her why he taught her these things, and Joelle stopped asking. She knew that with each day she learned more, she was closer to finding out herself. Even while it destroyed herself to not ask, to not know, to stay for Bryan's sake, she wanted to understand. To understand the situation, to understand him; Tom. To answer the questions that he would remain unanswered otherwise.
"What are you reading there all the time?" Joelle then asked later that night when Tom sat in front of the fireplace with the exact same book that he always had in his hands. The orange light of the fire reflected in his eyes, making them glow demonically red; a slight grin crept up his lips.
Joelle gasped upon reading the book's title.
Guess what he's reading?
