atychiphobia-the extreme fear of failure.
~~
It's not in Tom riddle's nature to care for anyone.
In fact, he doubts he's ever truly cared for someone at all in the entire 16 years he's been alive.
He's also never held any interest towards the oppos...
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chapter five—slytherins
Slughorn's classes were never particularly boring as such, yet Avalyn Feathers would much rather enjoy doing some work in the forest in care of magical creatures or learning some jinxes in defence against the dark arts. She had tried to bury her dreams of Tom Riddle deep inside of her brain, hoping that even she won't be able to recall them in a few days.
The mid-September breeze outside is slightly harsher than it has been, telling the residents of the castle that winter is well on its way. Feathers has never been so completely and utterly confused by someone as she is Tom Riddle. How can somebody be so foul to everyone — even his own friends — yet make her closed mind open to such. . .scandalous actions.
Tom had also thought lots of the night her had performed legilimency on the girl. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed every second of it, the power he felt being able to consume her thoughts and bury every single one that wasn't of him. He's simply itching to do it again, but he knows that he must be smart about such things.
Avalyn is scribbling down notes in her notebook when she hears a quiet 'psst' from behind her and she sighs, turning and raising an eyebrow at Evan Rosier who's lips twitch slightly her her furrowed eyebrows; knowing he had interrupted her flow of ideas.
"So, Feathers, have you ever been to a party before?" He whispers, leaning over his desk with a small smirk on his face and she narrows her eyes on him slightly. "Well?"
"I don't like parties." She admits with a small shake of her head. Evan raises an eyebrow at her, watching as her perfectly curled hair rolls on her shoulders as she moves her head. "They're annoyingly loud, and I hate cigarettes."
"Slytherin parties are exclusive." Rosier shrugs his shoulders. "Not too loud, limited guests. Perhaps you should join us tonight, you never know, you might enjoy yourself."
"Why on earth would I join you?"
"Because, you're a good girl, Avalyn. But even good girls need to have some fun, or they'll simply wither away." Evan smirks and Falco LeStrange snickers from beside the Rosier boy making him elbow him. "Seriously though, sweetheart. Consider it, I'll meet you on the stairs to the dungeons, ten o'clock."
He then goes back to quietly conversing with LeStrange and Black about god knows what.
Avalyn simply blinks, turning around slowly with slightly furrowed eyebrows. She questions herself, questions why Evan Rosier is so persistently sweet to her. And why Tom Riddle is so persistently. . .not rude or unkind; but irritating. In a way that makes her breathing hitch as his intimidating eyes gaze over every inch of her, every inch. She can practically feel his eyes burning into her every time she's within any sort of close proximity with him.
