ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛs

our baby

Author: citrusdarling7 (on ao3)

this ones cute...and im ngl funny af💀

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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.