The Love Story of Harriet Potter and Tom Riddle

Chapter 22 - Presenting

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

A year of growing, learning, and waiting passed.

Harriet questioned Merope through letters, but her responses never changed.

Merope insisted she was happy, healthy, and that all of Tom's claims had been true.

How could Harriet possibly argue?

Tom junior became his father's delight; strong, strapping, and handsome.

Tom senior viewed his offspring as every bit the ideal heir to the noble Riddle line.

Tom junior and Harriet remained close, though he grew more desperate with each passing day to lure his beloved into the nest that waited in the Chamber of Secrets.

His academic skill, heritage, and charm had allowed him to advance in the wizarding world.

The month before his seventh year at Hogwarts began, Tom traded his job at the apothecary for a very prestigious internship at the Ministry for Magic in which he worked directly underneath Lucius Malfoy as his assistant.

That title, on top of the honours of prefect and Head Boy which he had earned, made him a formidable enemy to many of his peers and a beacon of respect to his friends.

Harriet had done well for herself too.

She had undertaken the role of Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and hurtled through the curriculum set in place for potential aurors who hoped to gain entrance into the training programme.

Though Harriet hadn't harbored the same immediate plans for a family as Tom, it had concerned her that she remained the only potential omega left in their year who had not experienced a heat.

By September, out of sheer concern, Harriet contacted a healer in Hogsmeade and scheduled an appointment for the following month.

Perhaps something had gone wrong somewhere inside of her?

Perhaps the issue could be remedied with a potion or charm?

Hermione chatted with her about it on occasion, but Harriet hated discussing the topic.

She had seen the great displeasure in Tom's dark eyes that she had not yet presented.

Whenever that expression crossed his face, Harriet always wore a frown for the rest of the day.

—————————————————————

The new season of Quidditch began a month before Harriet's scheduled visit with the healer.

She woke on the morning of Gryffindor's first game feeling as if she had made a dreadful mistake to wait that long.

Harriet put her hands to her throbbing head as she sat up in bed to fight the nausea that churned her stomach.

She noticed her roommates had already left for the Quidditch stands as she lowered her hands from her face and pressed them into the mattress with trembling arms as she shakily stood to her feet.

Her emerald eyes widened.

Her knees threatened to buckle underneath her.

Harriet swallowed thickly, but as she pressed a hand to her chest, she became aware of the suffocating warmth that caused her clothes to stick against her dampened skin.

She gasped as she raised a hand to hover over her cheeks and felt the heat that wafted from them lick her fingers.

She laughed to herself as she thought.....