The Love Story of Harriet Potter and Tom Riddle

Chapter 1 - The Dark Chill of Winter

Thank you for reading! I don't own any of Harry Potter! Please let me know if you enjoy! Updates every Saturday!
—————————————————————

Young, destitute, and alone, Merope Gaunt kept a hand pressed to the side of her swollen abdomen while she forced herself to stagger down the desolate street.

As another contraction threatened to begin, an icy blast of winter wind mercilessly slapped against her flushed cheeks.

Merope grit her teeth through the pain as she finally made it to the grey building towards the end of the cobblestone row.

The plaque on the outside of the building clearly read:

Wool's Orphanage

A quiet groan escaped her lips as the pain crescendoed while she clutched the wrought iron railing and hobbled up the steps.

Before she had the chance to announce her arrival, a woman opened the door and frowned when her eyes fell on Merope.

The woman had seen others come to her workplace in a similar condition, yet her heart broke every time.

"Goodness, dear! A girl in your state has no business on the streets in the dark chill of winter!" The woman cried as she rushed forward.

Tears welled in Merope's dull eyes as she clung to the woman for support, dazed from the pain, but grateful for the small display of human kindness after so many bitter months of cruel rejection.

The woman carefully helped Merope inside the dismal orphanage.

The labouring mother gasped for breath as another pain forced the air from her lungs while they crossed over the grey threshold.

The woman let Merope squeeze her hand as she turned towards a damask stairway and called out, "Myrtle! Elizabeth! Come quickly! A baby will be joining us this New Year's Eve!"

—————————————————————

The pain had been extraordinary, but it had all seemed to fade into a miserable, hazy memory once a squirming, naked newborn was laid on Merope's chest forty-five minutes after her arrival at the orphanage.

"It's a boy!" Myrtle, the woman who had assisted with the delivery, smiled at the new mother.

Sweat glistened on Merope's face while she looked down at her baby in silent awe.

It was done, she had completed her task.

Her lover's son had been born safely.

Merope could relinquish her dreadful existence and go to her grave in peace.

She could already feel herself slipping away, but she still needed to have a good look at him first, the souvenir from Tom Riddle that had grown within her womb.

Slowly, the infant cracked his eyes open to blink up at his mother curiously.

As soon as Merope stared into her newborn's face, her heart shattered.

The women at her bedside hadn't heard her wail as loudly when she had given birth as she did while she clutched her baby close.

Merope's attendants shifted on their feet, until Myrtle glanced down and noticed that the sheets had dampened with scarlet streaks.

"Oh.....be still, dear. You're bleeding just a bit. Don't fret, I've done this for thirty years, a moment or two and you'll be righted." Myrtle murmured as she set to work.

"What's the baby's name?" Another woman asked Merope to distract her.

The women of Wool's Orphanage sought to help the birth mothers who came to their doors in any way possible.