Chapter 28: Hello, Joelle
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing- T.S. Eliot
Joelle glanced away as soon as Tom withdrew from her forehead, but her eyes moved back and were glued to his tie and dark suit the next moment. She just hoped that he would take it off and wear something less attractive. Judging by the grin that started to creep up his lips, he either knew what she was thinking of, or he could downright guess it by the dumb look of her face.
"I'm sorry we have to share a bed," said Tom even though he did not sound like he pitied that all too much.
"I doubt you are sorry," said Joelle dryly. Tom's lips twitched again. She was probably right.
"What are you thinking of?" She suddenly asked. She knew men hated this question - at least those men she met so far. And Tom seemed to be no exception in this rule; he did not answer her yet again. Joelle rolled her eyes in annoyance. She shouldn't be the one trying to make a conversation; as if she had anything to make up to him. Surely not.
Tom got up and took off his tie, tossing it onto the bed, then walked into the bathroom. Joelle heard the shower starting and she used this opportunity to get dressed into her sleepwear. She cuddled down into the bed and stared up to the ceiling, sighing a bit. Life was such a crazy thing, she thought. And with those words she fell asleep, oblivious to the fact that she has been watched all night.
"Joelle."
Joelle opened her eyes, yawning heartily. Her head turned over to Tom, who was standing in front of her, fully dressed, ready to take over the world with his good looks.
"Mhh?" She asked. Tom chuckled lowly.
"I know you hate getting up early. But we have to," he said. "Come on."
Joelle just looked up at him as if he had insulted her. Her eyebrows were pressed together firmly, a slight pout grew on her lips, she clung to the blanket. Tom glanced at her for a few more seconds before he straightened his back and waved his wand at her; the blanket pulled away and the coldness of the room attacked Joelle's skin. She yelped and jumped up, much to the amusement of Tom, who leaned against the wall with crossed arms, watching her struggle of life.
"Turn around," she grumbled lowly when she roamed around in her bag to look for her clothes, then remembered they were hanging in the closet to which she stumbled over and pulled out something to wear. She looked at Tom expectantly, but his expression was as blank as always, lips in a straight line. Joelle frowned.
"If you want me to come with you, you will have to turn around. I can't change- Ngh. Move. Let me get into the bathroom at least!" Joelle frowned when Tom didn't budge. They stared into each other's eyes before Tom bent a little closer to her face, twisting a strand of her hair around his index finger.
"Don't hiss so much," he whispered in a hypnotizing tone, then stepped away. Joelle held her breath but disappeared behind the door quickly, locking it.
"And do you really believe I couldn't get in if I wanted to?" Tom asked amused. "You certainly remember my little...proclivity for doors."
"I remember very well..." Joelle grumbled, then walked out, fully dressed. Tom took in the view of her for a moment, but turned his face away and grabbed her hand, disapparating without a warning. Joelle stumbled forward when they arrived in what looked like a forest, feeling dizzy again, but quickly caught herself. She was getting used to it by now.
"What are we doing here?" Joelle asked.
"Looking for something," said Tom. Joelle rubbed her eyes but she did not seem to understand. On a second note, she was not very sure if she really wanted to understand any of this. Tom started walking, scanning the area with his eyes. This went on for at least an hour before Joelle broke the silence out of nowhere.
"Marvolo, what exactly does mudblood mean?" She asked. Tom stopped walking abruptly, his face darkened upon the term. He turned around to her.
"I don't want to hear that word from your lips, do you understand me?" He warned in a stern tone. Joelle frowned.
"That doesn't make me understand what it really means, though," she said protestingly. Tom considered her, his strict gaze boring into her child-like expression, he inhaled deeply, then nodded and pulled her down onto a log.
"A mudblood is a term for a person with magical abilities but non-magical parents," Tom explained. Joelle tilted her head to the side. "A person like me? So it is considered a bad thing?"
Tom glanced at her for a bit, his lips pursing sharply. He nodded. "You are an exception," he murmured, then turned his face away from her, narrowing his eyes. "Now you know what the term means. Don't mention it again."
"Why not?" Joelle asked with a frown. Tom merely shook his head and was about to get up, but Joelle held him back.
"I always explained everything to you when you had questions back then," she said. Tom glanced into her eyes, there was something in them that didn't remind Joelle of the usual emptiness, but she couldn't really grasp what it was. Maybe he did not like remembering his past; a reference to a time where things were okay - memories that shook the little bit of humanity that was left in him. Tom did not answer, so Joelle continued to speak.
"When Avery attacked me with that term...I got a slight idea of it being an insult and something very rude to say. But I think there are more things to it. Something that you don't mention. I don't know why not, though."
Tom stared at her again. He chuckled bitterly, but did not further comment. Joelle went on.
"Avery also mentioned...something else. He said if only I knew what you're capable of, I would be scared of you. He said you're the strongest young wizard known. He said that you could care less about people like me; a mudblood."
Tom gritted his teeth, his fists clenched. "Avery clearly got too carried away praising me."
"What are the things you're capable of?" Joelle asked. Tom looked at her again; a slight smirk crept up his lips.
"You'll find out very soon," he said, pulling her up. They continued their walk.
"Marvolo, why are we here, what are we looking for?" Joelle asked.
"I have come here before. But I didn't find it. I scanned the northern region of the forest and the eastern region. I am looking for an enchanted tree. Only a witch or wizard can see it."
"And are you going to pack it up into your bag as a souvenir from...where are we anyway?"
"We are in Albania."
"Al-" Joelle gasped. "What for?!"
"Haven't I told you?" Tom asked half annoyed. "I want you to tell me in case you see a tree that sort of seems out of place. Come on."
For hours they have been walking around in the woods, no sign of said tree whatsoever. Frustrated enough, Tom and Joelle were back in the hotel room in the evening. Joelle looked at Tom, who's been quiet ever since their last conversation in the morning.
"Are you sure it still exists? What if the muggles deforested a part of-"
"It is magically protected. Impossible to simply chop off," said Tom with a hint of a degrading tone. He got up from the bed and walked over into the bathroom, closing the door. Joelle heard the water starting and leaned back, staring up to the ceiling, then looked around the room in boredom, glancing over to Tom's bag. After another minute of trying to ignore it, Joelle sat upright.
She wondered what was inside the bag. It looked stuffed. Their clothes hung in the closet, what else could be in there? Could it, perhaps, be something that gave her an idea of why they were here? Joelle got up from the bed, glanced over to the door to make sure Tom wasn't leaning against it already, and quickly opened the bag. A surprising view.
Joelle smiled to herself when she pulled out a particular black scarf. She just couldn't help the happy memories of back then when she first gave the scarf to Tom in 1937. The pictures were flashing before her eyes. How Joelle wrapped the scarf around freezing Tom's neck, how he threw it into the snow because of his jealousy when she talked to Amy, how she called him back, how they built their snowman together - how she wrapped the scarf around him again so he was warm enough to visit their snowman until she came back.
Tom still had the scarf after so many years.
Joelle lowered her head, feeling bad about how things have developed and wished she could turn back time to change everything, to really make sure that Tom would not become whatever he was today; Joelle frowned at the thought of knowing that she had failed, and she failed miserably. Just when she was about to put the scarf back into the bag, her fingertips brushed along something else - a black leathery book. Tom's diary. The very diary she gave him for his birthday. Could she dare take a glimpse? Joelle's eyes flickered over to the door, but it was still locked. She cleared her throat, had some mental argument with herself about this being wrong - she had no right to read his diary, no right at all. But then again, what if Tom wrote down his plans? What if writing was his way of expressing his feelings? It was very much her right to find out what he had in stock for her - she was most involved, after all, was she not? Joelle nodded to herself, opened the first page with her mouth hanging open in concentration, then frowned. Nothing. She skipped to the next page. Nothing. The diary was empty, not even a single drop of ink was visible, nothing. Did Tom merely keep it because it was something from her, like the scarf? Joelle shook her head. No. Her intuition and long experience with Tom told her that this man did nothing 'just because'. Whatever it was that Tom planned, it was well prepared and justified. Even though often impulsive as a child, Tom has grown up to be even more calculating.
Joelle thought about her hours of theory she read about; she faintly remembered that it was possible to magically conceal messages. She glanced around in hope to see her wand or maybe Tom's - but of course it wasn't there. Some rustling behind the door caused Joelle to quickly put the diary back, she shot up from her position and randomly walked next to the window when Tom stepped back into the room. Joelle glanced over her shoulder. Tom stared at her for a moment, but his eyes flickered to the black scarf on the floor. Joelle gulped, her heart stopped beating for the split of a second, she mentally screamed at herself and simply turned around to stare out of the window so to not see whatever expression Tom had on his face right now. At least he did not comment.
"Aren't you hungry?" Tom asked when Joelle still did not turn around to him minutes later. Joelle was sure to have heard some slight amusement in his voice, but she tried not to think of it.
"No," she said, just when her stomach told Tom otherwise. Joelle blushed and clung to the window sill, hating her body and her brain for reacting to the mere mentioning of food.
"Are you sure?" Tom asked; this time Joelle downright heard the grin that was plastered on his face. Joelle cleared her throat, but another growl from her stomach could no longer drape the coat of pretending around her. She turned around, however, did not look into Tom's eyes for dear life.
"Where are we going to eat?" She asked. Tom nudged his chin towards the window on the other side of the room. Joelle's eyes fell out into the darkness that was lit up by only one building; it looked like a store. She felt quite uncomfortable to know that Tom would pay for her food - and the ongoing mental debates that resulted from that were unbearable. He had too much power over her.
Before Joelle could spend any more thoughts on the uncomfortableness of having Tom providing her meals, she was pulled downstairs and over to the store. It was fairly empty even though Joelle was sure that this was the only store for hundreds of miles. Tom picked a very secluded area for his operations; how many often has he been here to study?
Joelle glanced around the store as soon as they walked in, but did not touch anything; mainly because some of the food did not exactly look familiar. There were plenty of large mason jars filled with what looked like vinegar and vegetables; a lot of red meat somewhere else, and on the other side of the store they had round, white bread and baked somethings sprinkled with what looked like cut pistachios. Joelle would eat it all; she was hungry enough to chew on an elephant if only they sold one. She did not even notice that Tom had grabbed a couple of things that looked a lot like anything else she would buy at home: darker bread, cheese, and ham, only lighter. Chicken maybe? Joelle could not read the language and so she did not know and did not care enough to find out. As long as it was edible, she would be okay. Tom paid with a foreign currency; Joelle wondered where he got it from but she knew that if somebody was prepared, it was him.
They ate their sandwiches in silence once they were back and did not hear each other's voices for even the clearing of a throat.
It was a cold evening. Their cheap room did do its justice of making everything even worse due to the walls being somewhat paper-thin, resulting in Joelle rubbing up and down her thighs uncomfortably after taking a shower and stepping back into the icy room; not even the candles could help making her any warmer.
Tom sat on the bed with his legs stretched out in front of him; he was reading, as always. Joelle glanced to the left and right, not quite sure where to sit down as there was only the bed and a closet. She considered the floor for a moment before she noticed that Tom patted the spot next to him without even looking up from his book; Joelle felt the heat of embarrassment rising up from her cheeks to her toes - was she that easy to read?
She stiffly sat down next to Tom, staring ahead against the wall, her legs folded over her stomach. For some strange reason, Joelle was nervous. The more she tried to calm down, the more her breathing began to sound strangely cut off - like quiet coughing. Anxiety got the best of her and it attacked her out of nowhere. How was she supposed to fall asleep next to Tom? It was easier yesterday - he was taking a shower while Joelle slowly drifted into her dream wonderland where things were okay. Tonight, they would have to fall asleep together at the same time. Strange things to think of; did anyone understand how difficult it was to manage the simplest of life with Tom around?
Ripped out of her thoughts, Joelle flinched when Tom closed the book and put it onto the nightstand. She could hear the ticking of a clock somewhere in the room, but did not further spend time thinking about it when Tom waved his hand - and the candlelights died out. Joelle frowned. He could perform controlled wandless magic; even she knew that this was beyond special. Joelle lay down and turned her back on Tom; realizing that the nervousness came back again now that the darkness enhanced the silence between them even more.
"I am faster without you," Tom suddenly said. Joelle glanced over her shoulder when he continued to speak. "I will scan the forest by myself tomorrow. You're in my way.
You will stay here."
"I did not ask you to bring me along," she said bitterly. "Or did I?"
"This wasn't an invitation for a discussion," said Tom. "Good night."
Joelle glared ahead; she did not know why but she was incredibly angry about what he said. Did he bring her along because she was a witch; thinking she could find whatever he was looking for? Why didn't he ask any other, more talented witch he grew up with while he was still at school? Why her? And why was he so dissatisfied with her performance - did he expect a miracle? The nervousness was replaced by sheer anger; anger that increased when she glanced over her shoulder again and realized that Tom was already asleep; not troubled the least about what he said to her.
Tom was gone when Joelle woke up the next morning. His side of the bed was perfectly in place; as if nobody had slept there at all. Joelle also noticed that the bag was gone and did not bother looking for it, knowing Tom must have taken it with him. For a brief moment she wondered if Tom has actually left Joelle behind in general; nothing looked like he has ever been here. The book on the nightstand was gone as well. Joelle frowned and walked over to the closet to check if his clothes were there - and they were. Feeling slightly relieved for a reason she did not further want to reflect, she closed the door again but opened it once more. He put the bag into the closet. Surely he thought that Joelle had no reason to look inside; she would just stay in her comfortable clothes, having no reason to go out today. Joelle bit her bottom lip and, just in case, glanced over to the door, then to the bag and roamed around in it until her fingers touched the cold leather again. She pulled out Tom's diary and sat down on the bed. She planned on carefully looking through the pages, maybe she simply didn't see anything written in it yesterday because she was so nervous. She had time now.
Joelle opened the diary, and her eyes widened when on the second page she saw something that she was sure was not there yesterday.
"Hello Joelle," it read.
Joelle shook her head. Was this a joke? Was this Tom's way of pranking her? Feeling enraged, the thought about responding. She opened the drawer of the nightstand to look for something, and indeed, she found a quill and a bottle of ink.
"Very funny, Marvolo," Joelle wrote down. She was about to close the book and put it back into the bag when she realized that both Tom's and her words disappeared; as if they sank into the pages. And then some more words appeared.
"How very charming to know that I succeeded," it said with the same handwriting Tom always had. Joelle shook her head in disbelief. How was this possible? Did Tom have a copy of the diary and did he write to her as he wandered around in the forest? Joelle just did not understand this concept. Succeeded? Succeeded in what?
"Marvolo, is this really you? How can you write to me?" Joelle wrote back. The words disappeared again. Nothing came back for at least half a minute, a long time while waiting for something to happen.
"Do you know where I am?" It asked back. Joelle frowned and quickly responded.
"What do you mean? You said you wanted to look for the tree alone, when will you be back? Where are you now?" She asked, convinced that Tom was responding to her this very moment, but she just could not shake off the feeling of dread and darkness connected the diary.
"I am most certain that I will be back for you very soon, Joelle. Meanwhile, I think it is about time to show you something. Something I have prepared for you to see long ago."
