"One of the only honest things you've said to me. You don't care whether I live or die, but you do care that I help you convince everyone you're winning the war against Voldemort."
What if Harry Potter was a female in the HPU universe?
From the...
A.N. By the way, Crystal Reed is my Fem! Harry Potter.
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A.N. This is short and quick because I just wanted to publish my book (sorry)
This is Harleen thinking that she's dreaming.
This is Tom basically drunk due to his soul being inside her.
If you have any questions or are confused in general, then comment and I'll get back to you as quickly as possible.
Killing Curse Green eyes.
Slytherin Green silk robe.
Untamable black hair like ink.
Those are the first things that Tom could register from the unfamiliar person lying down on the Black family carpet, the one opposite their tapestry.
He curled his lip in disgust at the memory of Walburga Black entering his mind with her banshee-like screeching of pride over the 'purity' of her and her family's blood.
A giggle snapped him out of his thoughts and back to the woman lying down.
He cleared his throat to gain her attention but to no avail as her attention was pinned to the tapestry.
Tom shared being ignored so he cleared his throat even deeper and added, "Excuse me-"
"You're excused." She cut him off, not even looking at him to address him, "Now get out." This was followed by a shooing motion that angered him, "I thought I told Kreacher not to let anyone in today." The last part was muttered to herself.
She resumed looking at the tapestry while Tom assessed her.
The unidentified witch didn't seem like a threat, especially since her magic wasn't even present.
Still, appearances were deceiving so he kept his magic on the defensive in case she attacked.
She sighed with exhaustion before standing up.
When she faced him, her reaction was most peculiar.
Instead of shrieking like any lady who realised that a man was in her presence, she folded her arms and assessed him.
"A ghost of Tom coming to haunt me?" She said aloud, freezing him temporarily.
How did she know his identity?
"A ghost?" He asks instead, more confused as to that part of her ramblings.
The witch cocked her head at him and her stare intensified.
Eyes as green as the killing curse, he noted, finding himself strangely drawn to them.
"Yes, a ghost, Tom. That's what you are to me."
Her voice was oddly sooth- He ought to smack himself for having inappropriate thoughts towards a woman he had never met before.
"I do believe you are confusing me with a different person."
An appalled look overtook his face before he could stop it at the sight of her snorting.
What unladylike behaviour, he added mentally to the profile he was beginning to build in his mind.
"Even dead, you're still trying to trick me, Tom?" She tutted, making him feel more like a schoolboy being told off.
"Are you aware that it is quite rude to address a person by their forename without giving yours in return?" Tom moves closer, both as intimidation and to avoid looking at her very appealing figure- STOP!
His mind screeched to a halt.
What was his mind even saying?
"You really are going with this whole clueless act, aren't you Tom?" She asked with narrowed eyes.
Before he could reply, she sighed and released her hands from their folded state.
"Hi, Tom Riddle. My name is Harleen Potter. Are you happy now?" She placed her hand in front of him for him to shake.
He kissed the back of her hand, almost drunk off of the intensity of feeling the power of her magic humming under her skin, and replied, "Immensely pleased."
Sh- Lady Potter downright hissed at him like a tame cat turned wild as she snatched her hand back from his hold.
"I am not a thing that has been created to please you, Tom." She spat out his name like it was poison on her tongue.
"Did I say you were?" He replied, amusement in his tone at seeing a blush colour her cheeks when she hissed at him, anger dripping from her.
"Yes, you have. Multiple times, Tom," she states before moving away from him to sit on the sofa that she had neglected for the floor.
Tom followed her and sat next to her asking, "I do not recall any of those moments,"
Lady Potter - Harleen - groaned in frustration, jabbing a finger into his side, "Stop acting like you don't fucking know me, you fucked up Dark Lord!"
Tom grabbed at her hands, halting her movements from poking him any further and stated, "I truly do not know who you are, Lady Potter."
Lady Potter froze and looked at him.
No.
She assessed him the way a predator would before pouncing on its prey.
Was he the prey in the situation?
"Fine then, Tom," Lady Potter mused, as she stood up and bound him to the sofa with invisible weaves of ropes, "I'm going to play along with the ruse that you've cooked up here. The ruse being that I've travelled back somehow and met the Dark Lord before he loses his nose."
Excuse me? Tom went to say but he failed to notice earlier that the ropes bound his mouth so he was unable to speak.
"I killed you in the future," She says casually as if talking about the weather, "I took pleasure in watching you turn into nothing but ash."
Tom's red eyes must have come out because Harleen was looking at him very carefully.
Then she did something he could never have expected.
She spoke in Paresltongue.
A Potter was a Parselmouth.
"You destroyed my life, Tom Riddle. And now, I'm going to ruin yours. I'm going to ruin you until you come to me on your knees begging for death."
Then the ropes were gone but before he could grab her, she had disappeared.
Tom grinned at the challenge.
Him begging?
No, Harleen Potter, it will be you who comes to me.
