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All eyes were on her, as Harriet entered the fourth Annual Ministry Ball at her fathers side.
This was not only the very first time she was seen in proper society, she was also the only one not dressed in black, planned, of course. It was well known that the Minister favored those in dark attire, all too fitting of his status as dark lord, but she’d chosen her gown with purpose, a dark viridian in color, not unlike the infamous house colors of the snakes.
She herself had been in Ravenclaw, choosing books over people for the majority of her life, but this wasn’t really about her.
Because she had come here with a goal, and not an easy one either. Her father had been fighting off propositions for her since the night of her seventeenth birthday but she wasn’t about to marry just anyone. Sure, one or two had certainly been interesting, but why settle for Nott or Malfoy when she had far higher ambitions? No, she was going to become Lady Slytherin, the Ministers wife.
Her father could’ve certainly been more enthusiastic about her goals, but he’d never been an ambitious man, born into wealth and likely dying without ever having to fear bad times, and so she disregarded his concerns.
Many had tried to get closer to Minister Riddle, but none had succeeded so far, some even going so far as to speculate that the minister might be queer, but Harriet was sure of the opposite. Simply put, most who’d tried, had been simpletons, unworthy of even a second glance, so who could judge the minister for disregarding those jesters in the fight for his love.
And don’t get it wrong, Harriet had no plan to simper for the mans affection like a common maiden might, he was going to beg for her, before the night was over. She’d recognized someone of similar intellect in the man, someone who wouldn’t be as dreadfully boring as most of the pureblood nobility.
To her fathers endless surprise and her cold hearted satisfaction, her plan to make a great entrance and then simply disregard the man of the night was working already. She had yet to even look in Riddles direction, much less actually talk to him, but she could feel his eyes burning in the back of her neck as she leant over the table filled with an entire banquets worth of food, delicately tasting a few curiosities whilst pointedly ignoring all the gossip going on. As if none of these ladies had ever heard of manners. One does not gossip in public but in private, preferably along with a bottle of good houself wine.
Her father was at her right hand side, watching the spectacle unfold with great amusement. Though he’d never been ambitious, he did always enjoy a good bit of chaos, through pranks or otherwise. It was the only reason she’d chosen him to accompany her instead of her mother or one of the heirs breaking their necks for a chance to get to escort her anywhere.
Truly, this evening was going splendidly.
That was when her father rather less elegantly poked her side with his elbow. Annoyed, she looked up at him, whilst he directed her view towards the other sie of the hall.
“He’s coming over“, her father hissed and Harriet had the rather annoying urge to massage her temples.
“Right, just act normal, and for the love of merlin, please introduce us properly.“
Despite her somewhat annoyed outwards display, she was actually brimming quite a bit with excitement. She’d been planning this meeting for a while now, nothing could go wrong.
Taking a deep breath, she took a step away from the table and finally looked at the approaching man. She swallowed, desperately trying to regain her cold demeanor. The man was far taller than she’d expected, at least a foot taller than her, with broad shoulders and a cleanly shaven face. He was handsome, no question, and his aura was dark and incredibly powerful.
Had she been of a lesser upbringing, she likely would've shrunken under his scrutiny, but she simply straightened her back a little more and smiled.
“Ah, Minister Riddle, what a pleasure to see you again, might I introduce you to my daughter, the newly debut Lady Harriet Potter“
Riddle took her hand, bending down deeply to kiss it. Harriet had never been the type to swoon over a man’s affection, but suddenly she felt weak in the knees.
“A Pleasure,“ Riddles voice was deep and melodic. She curtsied, “The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure“
In the glow of the candles that lit the hall, Riddles eyes glittered darkly.
“Now, how can a Lady like yourself lack a betrothal? I’m sure it’s not because of your immense beauty.“, This man was actually going to make her blush, what a flatterer.
“I’m sure“
A moment of tension felt like a thousand between them.
“Alas, would you perhaps care for a dance, the ball is dreadfully boring otherwise.“
Hook, line and sinker.
Her father made a great imitation of a blob fish beside her, but Harriet simply smiled shyly through her lashes.
“Why, thank you for the offer! I will gladly agree.“
Riddle moved to her side, shadowing her as they moved through the dancing couples towards a free space. Riddles hand did not leave her waist even ones, as they danced, song after song, pressed so close together, it bordered on indecent. Nobody dared to say a word though, else they’d be coming into contact with the Ministers wrath. Leaning her head against his solid chest, Harriet let the music and him guide her, sweeping across the dance floor to the sound of a beautiful piano.
When finally, a bell rang to signalize the very last dance of the night, she was almost disappointed with how fast everything had happened, until she remembered that shed danced with only one man the entire night, which came very close to a certain sort of arrangement, at the very least, she thought her father could await a owl in the near future.
Riddle seemed just as reluctant to let her go, as he delivered her back to her fathers side, who was grinning broadly. They all knew what it meant to dance the entire ball with the minister.
She felt the minister slip something into the pocket on the side of her gown and nearly screamed, just so managing to keep quiet. Such an improper thing to do, and yet entirely expected of a dark lord.
Later, once shed returned to her room and her father was in his study, already receiving an owl with a proposal, she dared to look inside her pocket, finding a piece of a red stone set in a golden gleaming ring and a note with a proposal for a midnight meetup in two days time. Where she a lesser girl, she would’ve squealed with joy, and yet she chose to simply scream her joy into her pillow instead.