#Female Harry Potter

[kippipies]

f!tomarry from Shiver, Lustre, Skin by @monsieurclavier because I am head over heels obsessed

[chiocchi]

Gal pals *wink wink*

Inspired by Remember When We Ruined by @mosiva

[bonniesfamiliar]

DIMENSION TRAVEL STORY IDEA: Summary: Harriet "Harry" James Potter has travelled to an alternate dimension during a spell gone wrong (Kreacher's actually responsible cuz he cares about Harry since she's the Lady of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black) Harriet knows it's an alternate dimension cuz she finds a newspaper stand and lo and behold, who's on the front cover? Tom. Fucking. Riddle. But not the ugly Voldemort Tom Riddle she killed. No this is young Tom Riddle who grew up FINE AS HELL.

And he's on the front page cuz he's The Minister of Magic and guess what he's talking about.

Dumbledore.

He's talking about Dumbledore.

And not manipulative gramps Dumbledore whose beard is longer than my hair.

No.

We're talking about this one

You know why he's talking about this Dumbledore?

Because Albus. Percival. Fucking. Dumbledore decided to become the epitome of "Be Gay, Do Crime," with Gellert Grindelwald, his husband.

DUMBLEDORE IS A DARK LORD WITH HIS HUBBY

So Harriet is obviously freaking out and does the right thing.

She goes to a pub and drinks her sorrows away in Scottish Whiskey, (Thank you, Minny)

But Harry never makes reasonable decisions so when she finds a quill and paper, guess what she does.

She writes to Misinter Riddle.

But the drama doesn't end there.

Whenever Harriet does anything, whether she writes or talks about Tom Riddle, she doesn't speak in English.

She talks in Pareseltongue.

(Cuz she and tom are the only Parselmouths. I think.)

So Parseltongue.

Harriet writes in parseltongue to the Minister of Fucking Magic on his wrongdoings in her universe.

The letter literally looks like this:

ssss ssss sssssssss ss ssssss s sss ssssssss ssssss sss sss ss ssss ssssssss ssssssss ssss ssssss sssssss ss ss sssssssss and that transcribes to 

"Dear Lord Voldemort, or should I say Minister Riddle, you are an ugly noseless hairless evil snakey bastard in my dimension,"

and cuz she's spiteful, she signs it off with "You-Know-Who"

But the thing is Harriet never mentioned her name or who her parents were.

So when Minister Riddle receives this letter, he freaks out and then does everything he can to find this person.

Not to kill them.

But to woo them.

This kind, thoughtful person has travelled from another dimension just to stop him from becoming evil.

AND THEY'RE A PARSELMOUTH.'

THEY'RE OBVIOUSLY HIS SNAKE MATE. (cuz he killed all of the Gaunts and Riddles so they're not family)

You can bet ur ass he was squealing to Nagini at the thought of having another Parselmouth in the world with him.

He's obsessed.

(He's not tom riddle if he doesn't have possessive issues and his jealousy issues are just as bad.🤭🤭🤭🥰🥰🥰😩😩😩)

Like it's not a want.

It's a need.

He needs the writer of this letter to be with him forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and-

You probably get the idea.

Anyway, 1 year goes by.

Tom Riddle: I MUST FIND THIS PERSON AND MAKE THEM MINE

Harriet Potter: *forgets about even writing the letter* 

Tom is growing more obsessed as the days go by and then he meets a woman at a charity ball held for idk an organisation for potieneers? Potion Masters?

She's chatting up with Lord and Lady Dagworth-Granger cuz she's been working with them cuz they remind her of Hermione and she needed a job.

Anyway, he approaches the couple in hopes of talking to them and Harriet sees Minister Riddle approaching and quickly moves away to head to the drinks table.

And then lets out a breath of relief when she realises he wasn't heading for her.

She schmoozes for a few more minutes before calling it quits and heading out for fresh air.

The party is at the Dagworth-Granger's manor so she goes out to the gardens.

And hears a cry for help.

Her Gryffindor instincts push her to run towards the sound of danger.

But her Slytherin side made her hide behind the wall from where the cry of help had come from.

It was a witch being harassed by two wizards.

One of the wizards was holding her wand, taunting her.

While the other had begun to take off her outfit.

Before it could go any further, she brought the men's attention to her and with a flick of her wrist, Harriet had the men on their knees.

She then walked over to the one holding the witch's wand and grabbed it out of his hand, accidentally snapping his wrist in the process.

She gave the witch her wand back and accepted the shaky hug she received.

Harriet waited until the witch was out of sight before she turned to the men and smiled, watching as their faces fell into horror as they saw the fangs in her mouth.

(I'm in love with the prompt by a post on tumblr where  Basilisk!Harry is hugging Kneazle!Hermione and Dragon!Ron also wants his cuddles. I can't find the person who made it but I've lived by the idea that these would be their animagus forms if they ever performed the spell like James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew had done to become illegal animagi for Remus Lupin)

Harriet rips into their throats, feeds on them and then turns their bodies into ash with the fiendryfire spell.

She grabbed a mirror from her purse to erase the blood from her face and clothes and began to walk away lest anyone come looking for the wizards.

But, Harriet suddenly slammed into what felt like a wall.

A very warm wall.

Regaining her bearings, Harriet looked up to notice that the "wall" was MINISTER RIDDLE.

AND HE WAS HOLDING HER ARMS.

"Minister Riddle, what are you doing here?" She said pasting a smile on her face.

Shift of POV:

Minister Riddle internally sighed at being stuck in another ball instead of being at home, analysing the letter once again.

He was certain it was a woman who sent it as there was a red lipstick kiss on the paper after it was signed sss-ssss-sss (You-Know-Who)

His thoughts are cut off when Lady Dagworth-Granger asks her husband where Harriet is.

Who is Harriet? he muses but when Lord Dagworth-Granger offers to look in the gardens, Tom leaps at the chance to run away from the party.

He goes into the gardens aimlessly walking around for a few minutes, lost in his thoughts of his mysterious parselmouth when a witch comes out of nowhere and collides with him.

He uprighted her by placing his hands on her arms and looked on curiously as she seemed to freeze in place when she looked up to see that it was he she bumped into.

Tom Riddle is the one to freeze when she speaks.

"Minister Riddle, what are you doing here?" She says an innocent smile on her face as if she had no idea his whole world had just flipped on its axis.

Parseltongue.

She's speaking in parseltongue.

She's his parselmouth.

The one from another dimension.

But he had to clarify so he replies honestly for the first time in his life, in parseltongue, "I've been looking for you," 

"Searching for me? Whatever for?"

A boyish smile widens on his face before he forces it into a polite smile.

"The Lord and Lady Dagworth-Granger have been searching for you, Miss Harriet I believe you are?" He reverts to English to test if she notices the change but she doesn't.

She just replies in English, "Ah, I see. I disappeared for too long with my break from the stuffiness of the ball and yes, I am Harriet."

Harriet, he muses in his mind, no last name to give for me.

She extends her gloved hand for him to shake but Tom riddle reaches for both of her hands and turns them over to kiss them gently and forces himself not to give into the urge of nuzzling into her hands (well not yet at least) and without letting them go, he straightens to his full height to tower over her (giving him a thrill at knowing she was shorter, meaning he could easily pick her up and carry her, be it over his shoulders or bridal style) and replies, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harriet. No last name?"

(Harriet has been wearing gloves cuz of the 'I must not tell lies' scars that cover her hands.)

Harriet smiles teasingly towards him and his cold heart thaws ever so, "I couldn't decide on a last name and I've decided I like the mysterious aura it gives me,"

Or maybe she couldn't risk using her real last name because she was from a different dimension, Tom muses in his mind, Nevertheless, Harriet Riddle has a lovely ring to it.

Harriet Potter: *staring confused at Tom Riddle as he smiles down at her

Tom Riddle: *Winter would be a lovely time to get married, wouldn't it?

I'm stopping here cuz it's a summary, not a story. Yes, I'm Evil.

Tell me if you like it tho.

I was this close *makes an inch between her fingers* to making this a Soulmate AU story.

Think of the angst that Harriet would go through all her life knowing that her soulmate's words to her are:  I've been looking for you

And it's an alternate hotter version of Tom Riddle, AKA THE BAD GUY WHO MURDERED HER PARENTS 

And think of how Harriet's words had motivated Tom his entire life to do his best to work hard (and cheat death) to live long enough for his soulmate to see him one day at a place be it a library or a gala or a hallway and ask him: Minister Riddle, what are you doing here?

Huh.

Maybe I should make them soulmates.

I need a timeline. fuck.

Um.

Riddle was educated at Hogwarts from 1938 to 1945, and was sorted into Slytherin House, a nod to his ancestor Salazar Slytherin.

Making Tom 34 cuz 1927 is the year Tom was born in if he went to Hogwarts in 1938 which would make him 11 in 1938 and 38-11 is 27 so 1927 is when he was born.

61-27=34 so Harriet is in 1961 but cuz of the time skip tom is 35 years old in 1962

Harriet was born in 1980 

The Second War technically began on 24 June, 1995, though was not officially announced by the Ministry until nearly a year later on 17 June, 1996, and ended on 2 May, 1998, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, after the death of the Dark Lord.

Which made Harriet 18 in 1998, 24 in 2004, 24 in 1961 and 25 in 1962

 but she deserves peace so the year Kreacher sent her back was 2004 which would make her 24 cuz he's horrified that she hasn't attempted to romance anyone since Cedric Diggory.

Tbh, if he was my bf I would never love again.

But then hubby "I would burn the world down for you and rebuild a new one from its ashes" tom riddle is here and I'm like Cedric who?

But none of them compare to (long list of titles, I'll research later.) Harriet James Potter.

[racfoam]

Harry just shoving in Voldemort’s face how old he is in nynn never gets old. Also, she's a menace. A COMPLETE MENACE.

“Stupid old soulmate... Make your own damn tea...” grumbled Harry. “I did make my tea last time,” called Voldemort from the table. “Shut up and sit!” yelled Harry. “Yes, dear.” “And don't call me dear!” she called, opening the cabinet, hoping to find an expired tea to hopefully poison Voldemort with. Nevermind that it was a dream. “As you wish, darling.” Harry inhaled and exhaled multiple times. Voldemort wasn’t worth it. Harry caught a glance of a box with an illustration of a jasmine flower. She grabbed the box, read its date — not expired, bummer — and was about to put it back when the side effects caught her eye. Harry grinned. Harry started boiling the water. After five minutes, the tea was done. Harry served it, placing the teapot on the table. She wasn’t going to pour it for him. She'd rather die. “Thank you.” said Voldemort. The teapot floated to his cup and tipped over, pouring the tea. “Oh,” said Voldemort. “Jasmine tea.” “Yeah, I decided it was perfect for you. It prevents diabetes.” said Harry smartly. The red eyes gave her an unamused look, peering at her over the teacup.

“Though be careful not to drink too much,” said Harry, smiling sweetly. She tapped him on the shoulder twice, and grinned as she said, “It causes impotence in men.” Voldemort spat out the tea.

“It's nothing to be ashamed of at your age.” said Harry. Voldemort was still coughing and sputtering.

Who said one needed a wand to beat You Know Who? Harry was doing it just fine with a cup of tea and a few sentences. “Pardon?” “It's okay, Voldemort.” she tapped his shoulder again, in sympathy. “If it makes you feel better, I don't love you for the thing between your legs —” “I AM NOT IMPOTENT, HARRIET!” screamed Voldemort shrilly.

[lilbeanz]

Not lesbian drarry as Gomez & Morticia Addams❤️🕸🖤🌹

[fistfuloflightning]

Some concept art/character designs for cardinal points because I’m a creature of habit and I like envisioning my characters lol. Genderbent mama!Sev and bby Harriet and some angsty Jeverus (I can’t do animal legs well sorry T-T)

[cubeberries]

fem harry/voldemort fic where harry’s a part-time babysitter and voldemort is minister riddle and an old widower (his past wife was bellatrix)

so one summer, harry’s suddenly called to babysit the minister’s daughter, delphini. little does she know, delphini is a huuuge troublemaker and an absolute demon child (black genes… and well—) but harry ends up being the only person she’s nice to. harry doesn’t know this yet.

when voldemort comes home, he’s surprised that delphini’s actually asleep and that the house is quiet for once. no screaming, no weeping, no bargaining and no bloodshed.

when he comments this to harry, she's like 'oh, but delphi's such an angel, the way you're so shocked, it seems like people have died trying to babysit her.'

when voldemort doesn't reply and just stares at her, shes like 'it was a joke. im joking. it's just a joke, right?.... RIGHT?' *cough* peter pettigrew *cough*

so when harry moves to leave, voldemort offers her extra money so that she could continue working for him.

puzzled, harry agrees. the months go by, and nothing goes awry. the peace lasts until voldemort has to go to another country for business for several months and he has to take delphini with him. that's when delphi throws a massive fit. as in, a Massive fit about leaving harry. there's blood and everything.

and so oh, no... harry has to go along too. how sad

[snyunho]

Fem!Drarry

Anatomy? I don’t know them.

[loneamaryllis]

Merry Christmas @racfoam ! Here's a small gift for you!

A scene from a Harrymort AU where Harrie sold herself to Voldemort in exchange for peace.

"Look up."

The words were whispered in her ear, a sinuous demand that wound its barbed coils tight around her throat. She complied, helpless against the command, her eyes flicking up.

There, hanging from the ceiling, was a bouquet of mistletoe. Vibrant green leaves, white fruits dotted around the bulk of the plant, and a red ribbon.

Fuck.

Harrie tried to run.

Large hands clamped down on her shoulders, pinning her in place.

"You know what that means," Voldemort said, with a softness that belied the steel strength of his grip.

"No."

It didn't mean anything, because he couldn't force her into it. That was one of the few safeguards of the contract binding her to him. She had to obey most of his orders, but she was free to ignore anything regarding physical intimacy. He couldn't make her kiss him.

"It's tradition, Harrie."

"I'll make a new tradition. Stand under the mistletoe, punch you in your noseless face."

He chuckled, and the sound trailed down her spine like a ribbon of smooth silk.

"Still so fierce. You've been mine for six months now, and you haven't lost your fire."

She gnawed into her lower lip, unable to deny it. She was his. She had signed that contract and given herself to him, and in exchange, he had halted his attempts at taking over wizarding Britain. He no longer threatened Muggles and Muggle-borns. There was peace—at the cost of her freedom.

"One kiss," he said, leaning down until his lips brushed the shell of her ear. "Just... one kiss."

She swallowed past the heavy lump in her throat. Something was churning in her stomach. Disgust, that was disgust—disgust when she pictured his snake-like face, the pale skin, the slits he had for nostrils, and those unnatural red eyes that always pierced right through her.

Yes, disgust only, she told herself, resolutely ignoring the low, cramping pull in her belly.

People were watching.

This was a party, after all—a Yule celebration—and there were guests from both sides. Death Eaters mingled with members of the Order of the Phoenix, while a few international guests were present as well. The orchestra was playing, and people were talking and mingling around the buffet, half of them oblivious to the mistletoe situation. The other half was looking at her and Voldemort.

The Malfoys were watching, all three of them, identical gray eyes on her. Snape was watching, from halfway across the room, a glass of Champagne in his hand as he stared at her, gaunt features set in a blank mask. Her friends—Ron, Hermione, Ginny—were watching, and they looked furious, but there was nothing they could do. Coming to her rescue would violate the terms of the contract, and Harrie had made it clear to them that—

—that she'd chosen this. That it was worth it. That she wanted it.

Another pulse of heat tugged at her core.

The bastard was keeping the soul bond wide open, wielding it as a weapon against her. His desire flowed toward her like a torrent, the water accumulating fast. Her mental wall wobbled.

He wanted a kiss? Fine. He would get a kiss.

Turning around, she grabbed him by the lapels of his stupid suit, tugged him down, and smashed her lips to his.

A solar flare of desire erupted between them. Voldemort let out a predatory growl and opened his mouth, his forked tongue flicking out. Harrie growled back.

Then she bit him.

Her incisors sank into his thin bottom lip, and the bitter flavor of his blood burst onto her tongue. She huffed in triumph, drawing back. He didn't let her move away. His hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers knotting in her hair, and he pressed their mouths together with ravenous greed, his tongue plunging between her lips.

Blood.

Blood and fire—she was burning, burning for him.

A final lick of that prehensile tongue against her own, and he let her go.

She hurriedly stepped back, her heart racing. Glaring at him, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her face felt too hot, her knickers too damp.

"What a delightful surprise," he said, with a sly grin. "My lioness has claws."

"That's all you'll get out of me."

His crimson eyes flared like a sunset. He lifted a finger to his mouth and casually ran it across his lips, before licking the blood with a swipe of tongue that was frankly obscene.

"That is all I wanted for now, Harrie."

She turned her back on him and lied to herself, twice. She pretended she wasn't running away.

And she pretended she hadn't liked that kiss.

[mermaid886]

………And Sev with some Snarriet babies at Christmas.

(Obtained from Snape fan group on Facebook, assumed to be AI, if this is yours, please let me know.)

[kippipies]

*banging pots and pans together* it's fem!tomarry hours!

a 1800s type au where tom is a recently widowed duchess and harry is a precocious journalist

[fandomnerd9602]

Just thought of this a Male Reader X female Harry Potter and reader is Bellatrix's son and his has the vibe of a playful dog that can still kill you

Y/N holds Harri Potter close…

Y/N: I won’t let anyone hurt you ever, my beloved

Harri: what about your mother?

Y/N: I’d fight thru a thousand copies of her just to keep you safe.

Harri: Mione would say that’s impossible

Y/N: I’d still do it for you.

Harri kisses his nose…

Harri: thank you

[bonniesfamiliar]

Time Travel Drabble: This is Harriet thinking that she's dreaming. This is Tom basically drunk off of his soul being inside her.

Slytherin Green silk robe.

Untameable 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 hated 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 gentleman was in her presence, she folded her arms and assessed him.

"A ghost of Tom Riddle 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 Harriet 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 Parseltongue.

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.

[racfoam]

Everyone is Handsome Voldemort Handsome Voldemort in Voldemort Wins Fics.

I PRESENT TO THEE... A GREAT ALTERNATIVE IF YOU STILL WANT HIM TO BE OF HUMAN APPEARANCE but don't want him to be too pretty...

GRANDPA EVIL WIZARD VOLDEMORT!

With gaunt cheeks and sharp features of his face, he reminded Harry of those classy older, grey-haired men in 60s movies. His grey hair was tidy, and his robe fit him like a cloak did a king, painting a royal picture. Harry was starkly reminded of Marvolo Gaunt, except Voldemort looked much better than his grandfather. Harry wondered if Ceasar looked like this. Noticing the sound of her footsteps (or perhaps feeling her presence) he turned to her. There was a sharpness to his bloodshot eyes and red irises. He looked regal, with the morning light streaking through the windows and illuminating his figure. There were lines of age around his mouth, and there was a cruelty in his sharp face. An evil. “Harry,” he said softly, his silken voice travelling like the soft hiss of a snake over Harry’s spine.

[petrerpkr]

Inspo this fanfic ✨️ aim & ignite ✨️

[steddiepicrews]

them <3