Tomarry One Shots

| But my heart smote (in trembling halves)

Summary: Mister Tom Marvolo Riddle hasn't aged physically since his seventeenth birthday. That's about to change now that Lady Harriet Potter, his soulmate, has come of age.

Ship: Fem!HarryPotterxTomRiddle

All credit goes to Ellory on Ao3

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Lady Harriet Potter sits on the plush stool before her vanity. Her hands shake as she touches the shimmering gold envelope that just appeared in a flash of magic. Inside it, is the name of her soulmate, Mother Magic's gift for her seventeenth birthday.

"Well, aren't you going to open it?" Lady Anne Potter, her thirteen-year-old sister, asks.

"I—"

Harriet tears her eyes away from it and meets her own gaze in the mirror. Her black hair is swept up in an elegant chignon, her sister's handiwork. Her gray eyes shine in the light of her dressing room. The crimson gown her mother commissioned for her Coming of Age Gala flatters her form exceedingly well.

"You're beautiful, sis. Whoever it is will be pleased," Anne says. She's a shorter, blonde doppelganger behind her in the mirror.

A flush colors Harriet's cheeks and she rips her gaze away from her reflection. She's not a vain person, but she can't deny that she wants to look appealing when her soulmate sees her tonight.

"I wonder who it is," Harriet whispers as she lifts the envelope with bare hands. She hasn't donned her formal gloves yet. She's never been fond of them; she always puts them on last and removes them first when undressing.

Her soulmate is older than her. She knows that much at least. A soul envelope won't appear to someone on their seventeenth birthday unless the person's soulmate is also of age already. That still leaves hundreds of magicals as possibilities.

"Why don't you open it and find out?" Anne asks tartly.

Most pureblood witches would retrieve a letter opener, would do their utmost to ensure the envelope remains in pristine condition. It's fairly common for witches to choose to frame and display the soul envelopes and the soul declaration card they receive in their personal sitting room after bonding with their soulmate. She's seen the soul envelope and soul declaration card that her Grandmother Dorea has framed which bears her Grandfather Charlus's name.

She has also seen the soul envelope and soul declaration card prominently showcased in her father's study, which declares that James Potter's soulmate is Pandora Malfoy. Harriet knows how dearly her father treasures it. He's said countless times that he's grateful he is the younger of her two parents and that the physical proof of their bond arriving on his seventeenth birthday is the best birthday present he has ever received.

Harriet lifts the wax seal—which bears two overlapping M's, each one crafted from four different wand silhouettes—with the edge of her fingernail. Her letter opener is too far away, off in the study section of her suite. She wants to know who her soulmate is now.

In exquisite calligraphy which appears to have been written in liquid gold, the name revealed is Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"Morgana," Harriet gasps, barely daring to believe her eyes. She blinks once, twice, thrice, but the name doesn't change. She had wondered, of course, because every pureblood wonders if they'll be his soulmate. But she never honestly expected his name to be on her soul declaration card.

His name is one that everyone in pureblood society knows.

Tom Marvolo Riddle is, physically, seventeen years old. He's been seventeen years old for decades. The elder of a soulmate pair ceases aging upon their own coming of age and doesn't begin physically aging again until their younger soulmate turns seventeen and reaches magical and legal maturity.

"Who is it?" Anne asks, leaning over her shoulder.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Harriet breathes, her voice shaking.

He is the Minister for Magic. He's been the Minister for Magic for over half a century. He has staunch pureblood supporters from almost every Most Ancient House even though he's technically a New Blood. Because all of Avalon expects that Chaos will bestow the Just and Most Olde House of Slytherin upon him once he finds his soulmate. Why else would a New Blood be a Parselmouth? It's a divine gift that Chaos once conferred on High Lord Salazar Slytherin, His second-born son.

When Tom Marvolo Riddle bonds, it's expected that he and his soulmate will resurrect that august Oligarchy House and stand as Sentinels of Avalon, as was true in times of old.

"Well," Anne says, sounding stunned, "that's—"

It's a heavy weight to bear—the hope and protection of a nation. Yet, Harriet is a daughter of the Honorable and Most Ancient House of Potter. She will not shirk such a duty if it's given to her.

Tom has waited an awfully long time for his soulmate, physically frozen in time. He has watched his friends, acquaintances, and the general populace discover their soulmates, bond, and have children. Year after year. Decade after decade.

"It must feel like he's been forgotten," Harriet whispers, her heart wrenching in her chest.

Harriet doesn't care for gossip. However, it's impossible to avoid overhearing the speculative whispers that travel through pureblood society as virulently as dragon pox. The prevailing theory is that Tom is being tested, that he's being tried to prove himself truly just without the Slytherin family magic to guide him. And that, once he succeeds, if he manages it at all, his soulmate will finally appear and they will be granted the Just and Most Olde House of Slytherin and all associated responsibilities and privileges.

"Then show him that he hasn't," Anne says, hugging her tightly.

"Right. I ... right."

Part of Harriet can't help but wonder if he'll think she was worth the wait. Part of her can't help but worry that she won't be able to live up to the fantasies he's had decades to weave in his imagination. Part of her can't help but hope that he'll love her as fiercely as every Potter desires to be loved.

There's no question that Harriet will love him. Potters are famous for instantly falling in love with their soulmates the first time their eyes meet once the soulmate's identity has been revealed.

Harriet sets the soul declaration card down on her vanity, rises from her stool, and smooths down her swishy skirts. The embroidered griffins—her family's heraldry magical creature—fly across the fabric with aureate thread wings. She dons her formal gloves with hands that tremble.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Harriet repeats, pulse pounding as she picks up the golden card bearing his name.

She's supposed to dance her first waltz with Master Draco Malfoy, her favorite and most annoying cousin. He'll have to forgive her for snubbing him. She can't bear to deny Tom that honor—not when he's been waiting so very long for his soulmate.

"Go get your wizard," Anne says, a cheeky smile on her face.

Harriet sweeps out of her dressing room, the soul declaration card in hand—Tom deserves to see it himself—and heads downstairs to find her soulmate amongst the guests.