First of all, I was really excited to write this story and hopefully, I did improve in writing. Please give me some advice or share me with your writing experiences. Thank you!
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Mrs Vance looked down at her daughter, patting her back.
"It's going to be your first year at hogwarts, Emily. You're going to do great," and she bend down to kiss the cheek of a little girl already in her black robes, looking rather nervous.
"Mom, I'm scared," she tugged onto the hem of Mrs Vance light yellow halter dress.
"Don't be, sweetheart," and she pulled the lilac purple trunk. Mrs Vance pushed her little daughter forward to the crimson red train.
Parents pushed their children inside and other Hogwarts students chattered loudly, greeting their old friends and squeezing through trying to find an empty compartment. Emily bit her lip nervously as her mom pushed her a little further to the sliding doors of the train.
It was going to close soon. She didn't want to leave her mom with that stepdad who always seemed quite drunk most of the time. Oh, how is her sweet, lovely mother going to take care of herself? You need to be confident, Emily, she scolded.
The train was starting to move slowly. Emily gripped onto the side windows, watching her mother waving and smiling encouragingly at her while a man with sandy brown hair came to pull her away. Stupid stepdad. How she wished her real father didn't die of a muggle infection when he was having his honeymoon with her mom.
Mrs Vance used to tell stories of him, how he was a charming, good looking fella that she met at Hogwarts during her sixth year. Her father wasn't a very good student, but he was quidditch captain of Ravenclaw and brought victory several times.
Emily smiled at that thought. Realizing she was still standing near the doors with her luggage close to her, she started panicking. Oh dear, what should she do? How pathetic she was, standing there like an idiot for the rest of her ride. Somehow, her poor nimble legs are going to collapse from exhaustion.
Emily remained standing for the first hour. Then, she couldn't take it anymore and pluck up the courage to go search for a compartment.
There were a bunch of Gryffindors sitting together, but she didn't dare as there was too many older students who seemed loud and annoying.
She continued but almost every single one was crowded. Come on, you've got to at least find one! Please be empty, she prayed as she saw a compartment who looked like there was no living soul inside.
She came into a closer view and was alarmed that there was a boy sitting there, motionless as he watched the rolling green hills outside. He didn't seem to notice her prescene.
Should Emily ask him if she could sit there? What if he said no? That will be embarrassing! But she couldn't keep standing for the rest of the ride, could she?
Quietly, Emily pulled the compartment doors aside and step in, putting her heel first and slowly adjusting her toes on the gray carpet below. She was very silent but soon her trunk got stuck at the narrow gap of the doors. Emily struggled to pulled it out then she quickly whipped around to see the boy staring at her.
He had dark tousled hair and hard, chestnut brown eyes that seem to penetrate her soul. For a moment she was afraid that he might see through her, everything about her life. How she lived with that filthy man in her house, enduring his disgusting attitude for years.
Yes, her stepdad was filthy rich and married her mother just because she was beautiful. Everyday, he would buy alcohol and drank until he was snoring on the velvet couch or bringing other women back home.
Her mother wasn't jealous, and the only reason why she married him was because she thought Emily needed a fatherly figure, which he failed the role so badly.
Emily quickly snapped out of her thoughts and sat across him near the door so he wouldn't bother her. Please don't talk to me, she pleaded silently.
"Who allowed you to sit here?" he said coldly, with no expression.
Emily felt embarrassed. Her cheeks grew red and quickly get off the leather seat and took her luggage from above.
"I didn't ask you to leave,"he replied.
She stopped herself and quickly sat back down again, rubbing the cotton fabric of her midnight black robes.
There was an eerie silence. Emily raised her head a little and was a bit startled that he was staring at her.
"Well? Say something," he snapped at her.
Emily heart pounded. He sounded so much like her stepdad. But again, she was such a coward that she still didn't reply.
The boy's dark brown eyes glinted dangerously. "Are you muted?" he asked, still in the cold, harsh tone.
What? How dare he say such thing? A bit angry, she allowed herself to speak.
"I'm not muted! I just prefer not to talk to you," she snapped back, but her voice trembled a bit.
He said nothing for a short while. Emily thought she insulted him.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly.
"For what?" he asked sarcastically, like he'd wanted her to admit it again.
That made her cheeks rise in colour.
"I'm sorry for snapping at you."
He didn't reply. Emily was getting frustrated as the silence made her tense. She scooted to the other end so she was facing him.
"My name is Emily. Emily Vance. What is your name?"
He gave her a cold, blank stare. Emily found it hard to read his expression at times. What was his problem?
"I'm sorry," and her eyes began to fill with salty tears. What had she done wrong? Was there no other kind people other than her mom?
"Stop crying."
But Emily cried more. She cried and cried in front of him, and her nose turned runny and choked on her own saliva.
"I'm Tom Riddle,"he finally spoke after a long millenia.
She lifted her head up and wiped her face with her new, clean robes. Unexpectedly, he thrust out a hand for her to shake.
Emily wiped her stained fingers on her robes and grabbed the cold, clammy hand of Tom Riddle and shook it gently.