Catharsis [Tom Riddle]

Chapter Eighteen

 "I don't know, she just did," Avalon grumbled, speeding her pace to try and keep up with Riddle as they made their way towards the Room of Requirement.

"That doesn't make any sense," he said, the frustration evident in his face. "How did Shacklebolt already figure out how to turn the goblet into a fox? I doubt that Lestrange gave her any help."

"No, she's been working alone," she said. After abruptly leaving Xavier the night prior at the Quidditch party, Avalon had been worried that he would be upset with her today. But when she saw him in classes, he was back to his usual self-- spinning her around the moment he saw her and placing a kiss on her cheek every chance he got.

"Then how did she finish the project?" Riddle asked, persistent.

"How many times do I have to say I don't know before you get it through your head?" she groaned. "We have to figure it out. We have less than two weeks before it's due."

"You think I don't know that?" he snapped back, stopping when they got to the entrance of the Room. The door appeared as they arrived, Tom having conjured it just in time for him to open the entrance and motion for her to enter as soon as they reached the wall.

When she stepped inside, she saw the usual setup that they always had-- the couches, armchairs, table... but a small addition atop the side table near where she usually sat brought a tiny smile onto her lips.

A record player and one singular record.

Riddle was already walking towards the table where he always sat, dropping his things atop it without another word, but she was busy examining the record atop the player. She felt a tiny bit of pride as she picked it up and noticed that it was a copy of Vivaldi's Four Seasons: the same one she had played for him earlier.

Usually, when they came to the Room, she would conjure the record player once they arrived and he would make it abundantly clear that he didn't want to listen to her 'muggle-music.' They would bicker back and forth for a few minutes before he would give in and allow her to play it, but only if she played Vivaldi.

But, this time, it was already there. She bit back a smile before looking towards him. He wasn't paying her any attention, his head already buried deep into his book as he glanced between the words on the pages and the coin placed before him. It took a few moments for him to notice her watching him, and when he looked up and saw her grinning, he raised an eyebrow, confused. "What is it, Hendrix?"

"The record player."

"What of it?"

"I didn't have to conjure it today. It was here when we arrived," she observed, a slight smile playing on her lips.

"And?" he asked. "You were going to conjure it one way or another."

"I think you secretly like my music," she said, her smirk widening as he rolled his eyes. "Admit it! You actually enjoy it."

"Without the music, I'm forced to listen to you incessantly tap your foot, or your quill, or the table. Unfortunately, this is preferred," he grumbled, but his words did nothing to change her already made up mind. She had decided that he didn't hate her music nearly as much as he wanted to let on. Never in a million years did she think Tom Riddle would be listening to muggle music, but here they were. "Are you going to do any work, or just stand there?"

She walked to the record player and put the album atop it, her smile never leaving her lips as she placed the needle onto the vinyl and began playing the music before making her way over to the table, sitting across from Riddle as she pulled out her wand and began focusing on the coin before her.