tom riddle one-shots

our baby

(a.n - okay so I normally hate the idea of kids and pregnancy, but last night my friend and I were talking about how funny it would be to see Tom interact with a baby. No smut or angst in this, but I guess there's a little fluff if you look hard enough)

When we first learned that I was pregnant, Tom was incredibly confused. He knew that I would never cheat on him, yet he seemed to believe there was no way that he could have possibly created a baby.

   "That is impossible. You're not pregnant," he had decided.

    A few months later, my baby bump started showing, and Tom finally accepted that he would soon be a father. Of course, he would never think to abandon the child or I, not after growing up in a neglectful orphanage. But he still wasn't quite sure how he felt about the pregnancy. Things such as morning sickness and strange food cravings confused him.

    "You mean to tell me that you're currently vomiting up the baby?" He asked while I was hunched over the toilet puking.

    "That is absolutely foul," he sighed while watching me eat pickles that I had coated with peanut butter.

    When I reached the second trimester, I took Tom to the doctor's with me for an ultrasound appointment. When the black and white image appeared on the screen, Tom got up out of his seat to study it. The doctor, who was a cheery middle-aged woman, told us that we were having a boy. Tom stared at the screen for a good ten minutes before deciding,

"It looks like an alien."

"He's not an alien. Don't say things like that," I hissed at him. The poor doctor then had to explain to Tom how ultrasounds work, and why the image looked so distorted.

    A few mornings later at the breakfast table, Tom decided to share an idea with me.

    "I want to name it Salazar." My fork slipped out of my hand and clattered to the ground.
   
    "I hope that you're joking."

    "Why would I be joking? Seeing as it has my DNA, it is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. That would be the perfect name," he explained while pouring his coffee.

    "Absolutely not. I will die before I allow my baby to have such a stupid name."

Although I made it perfectly clear that that name was not an option, Tom still had other ideas. I came home one afternoon to find him painting some large and ugly snakes on the walls of the nursery. He had even charmed the paintings so that they could slither and hiss. I had to explain to him why such images would be disturbing for a baby. When I had Abraxas come over the next day to paint little ducks over the serpents, Tom sulked for hours.

Even though his nursery paintings had been covered up, Tom was starting to become more involved with the pregnancy. He accompanied me on a trip to a Muggle baby store, inspecting every single sweater or onesie that I tossed into my cart.

"Why would it need socks? I thought that infants can't walk," he questioned as I tried to show him an adorable set of baby socks with polka dots printed on them. His voice had been rather loud, and other shoppers were giving us strange looks.

"Yes, Tom. Babies don't walk, but they can still get cold feet."

He wandered around the baby store for hours, examining strollers and baby-mobiles. Whenever an employee came up and asked if we needed help, Tom flashed them a menacing look and reached to hold my hand. He had started to grow more protective over me.

About three weeks before I was due to give birth, we hosted a baby shower at the manor. Tom never liked having guests over, but seeing as I was the one who was pregnant, my wishes were prioritized over his.

"Oh wow! I can feel him kicking!" My friend Briley, (who Tom and I had gone to Hogwarts with) exclaimed as she moved her hand around my swollen belly. Tom's eyes widened in fear as he quickly shoved Briley aside.

"What is it doing? Is it trying to hurt you? Why would it do that?" Briley started laughing at Tom's absurdity, while I simply rolled my eyes.

"He's not trying to hurt me, he's just moving around a bit. Give me your hand and I'll let you feel." I gently took his hand and placed it onto my stomach. Up until that point in time, Tom had not wanted to interact with my baby bump in any way.

"Strange," he finally decided.

When it came time to unwrap the presents, Tom took it upon himself to open each one first, to determine if it was safe or not. Briley had wrapped up a Gryffindor onesie, and when Tom saw it he tried to kick her out of the manor. (I had to intervene before things got violent.) Abraxas and his wife had gifted us a lovely magical stroller that would spit poison at any stranger who approached it. Tom really liked that stroller.

As my due date rapidly approached, Tom grew much more interested in the baby. At night, he would ask to place his hand against my stomach so he could feel it. He began speaking to my baby bump in Parseltongue, which made me frown in confusion. I decided against reprimanding him, happy that he was finally interested in forming a bond with our child.

I went into labour while I was out having lunch with Briley. She quickly rushed me to the hospital and called Tom right away. We had chosen a Muggle hospital, (St. Mungos wasn't the best environment for a newborn.) Tom sat in a chair a few feet away during the entire delivery process, which ended up taking less than an hour. (Thanks to a lovely potion I had taken a few weeks ago that ensured a painless and smooth delivery.) The doctor asked Tom if he would like to cut the umbilical cord, but then immediately took back his offer when he saw Tom pull a large knife from his jacket in anticipation.

When my baby boy was handed to me, I couldn't have been more happy. He was absolutely perfect, albeit a little slimy.

"Would you like to hold him, Tom?" He looked at our baby in disgust, shaking his head.

"Not until someone cleans it." I sighed, but allowed the nurses to come in and take him away for his shots and bath. My son was returned a few minutes later, wrapped in a grey blanket, and free of any gunk or slime.

"Let his father hold him," I instructed the nurse. A curious Tom allowed the baby to be placed in his arms. He studied him for a few minutes, unsure of what to say. Finally, he let a proud smile spread across his face.

"Hello, little Salazar. Welcome to the world."

I immediately took the baby back into my arms, before Tom got any bright ideas, such as singing a lullaby in Parseltongue.

a.n- comment any requests that you have for the next one-shot!