A/N: This is a fairly short one, but I'm sure you'll survive. There'll be more tomorrow morning. Thanks to all those who have reviewed so far!
The Years that Followed the Morning After.
by Flaignhan.
She paused, brushing her fingers against the soft material samples, glancing out the window of Madame Malkin's shop. She jumped as a small child with dark hair leapt out from between a rack of robes, hands raised as though they were claws, face scrunched so her small teeth were showing and her eyes creased.
"Maisy! Go back upstairs with your sister!" Madame Malkin ordered.
"I want to make robes!" Maisy said, stamping a foot on the wooden floor of the shop, her small lips pushed into a pout.
"Go," Madame Malkin said, pointing towards the back of the shop.
Maisy stormed off and Madame Malkin turned to Emily.
"I am sorry," she apologised, "she can be such a handful sometimes."
"It's all right," Emily said with a smile.
Madame Malkin smiled and gestured to the stool. "What are we doing for you today then my love?"
"Three sets of Ravenclaw robes," Emily replied, stepping onto the stool.
"We've got a new design this year for the young ladies, little bit more flattering, little bit more fitted, only two sickles more than the bog standard ones, if you'd like that?"
"Er, yes, I suppose so," Emily said. Her mother wouldn't mind paying the six extra sickles, she probably wouldn't even notice the price increase.
Forty five minutes later, Emily left the shop with her mother and Alison following on behind her.
"Are you sure you don't want some new dress robes?" her mother asked for the third time.
"When will I wear them?" Emily asked, again for the third time, heading towards Flourish and Blott's.
Her mother sighed and followed her into the shop, Alison disappearing immediately amongst the shelves while Emily and her mother went to fetch the books she'd be needing for her seventh and final year at Hogwarts.
Once she had collected those, she began browsing the shelves for any titles that might interest her. She spotted something, and passed the books she was holding to her mother in a jumbled rush, pulling the book in question from the shelf.
Magic of the Mind.
Learn the exquisite arts of Occlumency and Legilimency.
Keep your secrets safe, along with everybody else's.
"I don't think that's suitable," her mother said, her carefully plucked eyebrows frowning in disapproval. "What about something about household charms? They're always handy to know."
"I want to read this one," Emily said, "I'll buy it myself if you won't buy it for me. When you said I could choose a book for myself I didn't realise there was a restriction on what I was allowed to read."
"I'm not getting that for you and I won't allow you to buy it. I shan't have it in my house. Mind reading, honestly."
"Well I'll just order it when I get to Hogwarts then," Emily argued.
"I wouldn't bother, it's not very good."
Emily turned and was greeted by a face she hadn't seen for quite some time.
"Tom," she said simply.
"Congratulations, I hear you're Head Girl," he took her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing it softly. "Sorry to interrupt," he glanced towards Emily's mother. "But that book isn't worth your money or your time."
Emily's lips twisted into a smirk. "And what book would you recommend on this particular subject?"
"I wouldn't," Tom replied. "Young ladies ought not to be learning about such things. Professor Merrythought would have a heart attack if he knew you were interested in mind reading."
Emily half laughed and her mother smiled. "You see? If you won't listen to me then at least listen to...I'm sorry, I don't know your name."
"Tom, Tom Riddle. I take it you're Emily's mother?"
Her mother smiled widely, already charmed by Tom. She opened her mouth to respond but was cut off before she even managed to get a single word out.
"I heard you're working in a shop."
Emily rolled her eyes as Alison joined them, hand on hip, eyebrow raised, three books tucked neatly under her arm.
"Alison, always a pleasure," Tom said with a smirk. Emily could see by the look in his eyes that he held absolutely no pleasure in talking with her sister. "And yes, you heard correctly. It's not perfect but it pays the rent while I complete my further studies."
Alison huffed. "Thought you would have been able to get something a bit better than that, seeing as you were the 'best student Hogwarts has seen since Albus Dumbledore'."
"Good things come to those who wait, Alison. It's all about hard work and perseverance. Emily knows all about that; perhaps that's why she got the Head Girl badge? I believe...Celia Watson got it in your year, didn't she?"
Alison huffed and pushed her glasses further up her nose. Tom ignored her and turned his attention back to Emily.
"We should catch up, before you go back to Hogwarts. I'll take you out for lunch."
Emily nodded. "How about now?" she asked.
"Perfect," Tom said with a smile. "You don't mind me stealing her from you for an hour or so, do you Mrs Pranghurst?" he gave her an encouraging smile and she shook her head, her neatly styled hair bobbing against her shoulders.
"No that's absolutely fine, I'll pay for these and we'll see you back at home, okay Emily?"
"Yeah, all right," Emily said, grinning.
Tom held out his hand and she took it, following him from the shop.
"It's hardly the best place," Tom said apologetically as Emily scanned the menu in the Leaky Cauldron. She looked up and smiled.
"It's fine," she said. "To be honest, I'd take double Divination over an afternoon of shopping with Alison and my mum, so this is heaven, comparatively."
"What's wrong with your mother? Alison...well I can see why you're not too keen on her, but your mother seems nice enough."
Emily smiled. "She's too much like Professor Merrythought. Young ladies shouldn't be doing this or that, they should only be doing household charms and beauty charms and learning how to look after children." She pulled a face and put the menu down. "The beef casserole sounds nice, I think I'll have that."
"Well I don't imagine many mothers want their daughters learning Legilimency," Tom said, stroking his chin as he perused the menu. "Yes, the beef casserole does sound rather good..."
"I didn't say I was going to learn it," Emily argued.
"But you had every intention of doing so," Tom replied with a smirk.
"Well, maybe," she conceded. "What books did you read? Did you ever learn?"
Tom smirked. "I suppose you're old enough for us to have wine with our dinner now...how about a nice bottle of red?"
"Tom," she persisted, lowering her voice and leaning across the table.
"Michael's going to be very upset if he finds out you had dinner with me, isn't he?"
Emily froze, and then sat back in her chair, arms folded. "Red sounds fine to me."
Tom smirked.