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Five of wizarding Britain's best healers were summoned immediately.
Tom apparated straight to the Ministry with his wife in his arms.
Merope was called to Malfoy Manor to collect the children, which she hurriedly did before she brought them straight to their mother's side.
As the medical team of magical healthcare workers flurried around Harriet in the designated room, just beyond the Minister's office, Merope stood steadfastly beside her son.
She stroked Harriet's dark hair lovingly, as if she were her daughter, not her daughter-in-law.
Merope's heart broke as she looked at Tom's wide eyes while he gazed down in horror at his wife.
The medical staff all but ignored the Minister and his mother as they worked to discover what exactly had happened to Lady Riddle and how it could be remedied.
Anyone could see the blatant bleakness of the situation.
Harriet's breaths came in shallow, papery gasps, with her mouth open, eyes staring at the ceiling, glazed over.
Her chest heaved with every intake of air, as if the action itself was a tremendous feat.
What was most concerning, however, was the creeping black reach of dark vein-like structures that resembled crawling worms moving from Harriet's mouth down her chest, towards her heart.
More whispers, more orders, and more minutes passed without an answer before Tom could stand the wait no longer.
"What's happened to my wife?!" He hissed as one of the healers moved him out of the way to expose Harriet's forearm.
"We're not quite certain yet, sir." The healer nodded as she spoke with a sense of professional urgency, "Most likely Dark Magic, most likely ingested, judging by the markings on her face and the gradual cessation of breath."
"My wife will be alright." He commanded more than asked.
The healer flashed Tom a doubtful frown before she scurried away, knowing well enough that those in her vocation never gave false hope.
As another healer placed the tip of her wand against Harriet's forearm and began to run a diagnostic spell on her blood, Tom suddenly felt the room start to spin as his world threatened to spiral out of control.
"Yes, Minister." The healer examining Harriet nodded as she glanced up, "It is Dark Magic, the source seems to have come from a potion…….if I'm getting an accurate reading here."
"Can you think of anywhere she could have been exposed?" Another healer frowned at Tom.
"No!" He shouted.
The Malfoys?
No, why?
It made no sense for the prestigious family to seek a betrothal for their heir then poison the mother of his promised bride.
"Can you think of any enemies your wife has, sir? Any that you know of, who would take such dreadful action against her?" The healer pressed.
Tom cast the healer such a deadly glare that an ominous chill ran down her spine.
"Forgive me, sir," The healer said quickly, "…..Do you know of any of your enemies that might dare try something like this?"
"No." Tom snapped without hesitation.
He did not want to admit that he lied to himself and the healer just then.
He knew well enough that Harriet did in fact have one foe that he had been warned about over and over and over again……….but had been too arrogant and confident in his own abilities to acknowledge.
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The Malfoys had come to the Ministry to wait with the Riddle children, but Tom had them forcibly swept into a holding cell far below the building's main area, where most of his victims, er, magical Britain's guilty criminals, awaited their executions.
Regardless of Tom's doubt surrounding the Malfoys' guilt, Harriet had still fallen ill during a visit to their home.
The family's interrogation was unavoidable in the Minister's eyes, as was his suspicion.
While the Malfoys paced nervously far beneath them, James and Mark consoled each other while Mae yawned.
Mark cried into his brother's shoulder while James quietly reassured him, "It's alright, it's alright, it's going to be fine…..Dad will….Dad will take care of her, of them. They'll be fine, Mark, don't cry so."
As Mark cuddled closer to his brother, James looked over at Mae to find her examining her nails with a look of pure boredom on her face.
"He's going to find out this time, you know." James called.
"Sorry……Who's going to find out what?" Mae asked as she blinked innocently over at James.
"Dad's going to find out you've done this." James scowled, "I don't know how…..but I know it's all your fault…….and he will too. You won't get away with this, not something like this….Not this time."
"I don't know what you're talking about, brother." Mae said with a casual shrug, "We ate at the Malfoy family's home and you saw what happened. How can you possibly say this was my fault?"
As Mark continued to cry quietly against James, James and Mae stared each other down.
The look of rageful vengeance on James's face was almost unsettling to witness, but the sinister grin of twisted delight on Mae's lips promised to give him nightmares.
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The most dreaded hour of Tom's life had arrived.
He listened to the healer speak as each footstep echoed in the room like thuds, her voice an odd vibration compared to the rest of the scene, "I'm sorry, Minister Riddle, we've done all we can, but this particular magic…….demands a life."
Tom stared down at Harriet unblinking.
Merope bit back the bitter sobs that wanted to escape her throat.
"After Lady Riddle draws her last breath, the affliction should clear enough that we can safely take the child." The healer nodded.
Unbeknownst to everyone in the room, Harriet had the sense to hear.
As the healer spoke, Tom slipped his hand into his wife's, who surprised him by giving his fingers a very weak squeeze.
Harriet had no strength to talk but with great effort, she managed to move her eyes to stare into Tom's for one last time.
Hearing their baby would survive was enough.
She would gladly sacrifice herself to save their unborn son or daughter, her last desire was only for Tom to know that.
As she kept the gentle pressure on his hand, a low groan left her throat as she managed to give him the slightest of nods.
Merope closed her eyes as two tears silently rolled down her cheeks.
"We're going to sedate her now, Minister." The healer nodded as two members of the medical team stepped forward and administered some sort of herbal rub directly onto the exposed skin of Harriet's forearm, "So there won't be any pain……Sometimes the breathing at the end can be a bit rough when Dark Magic's the cause."
The end.
Tom couldn't stand the reality of his own crushing defeat.
Harriet had been taken right from his side, plucked like an apple from a waiting tree.
As he watched her eyelids flutter and close, he gnashed his teeth.
Tom's love for his wife was great, unending, unconditional……….and at the same time, deviously selfish.
"If a life is given, then this heinous poison will be neutralized?" He asked the healer abruptly.
"Yes, sir." The healer nodded, "That's why it'll be safe to-"
"-Save my wife." Tom interrupted in a gruff growl.
The five healers all frowned when they heard his order.
"But sir…."
"Minister Riddle….."
"Tom, no!" Merope cried.
His dark eyes glimmered as he glanced at his mother.
Merope made her best effort to reason with her son, "Sweetheart, I know you're devastated, but don't do this! Not to her! She'll never forgive you! She never will……"
"-Do it." Tom growled at the healer, "Or face the death penalty for high treason……All of you." He growled as he glanced around the room, "And your families as well. Understand that if you take from the Minister for Magic, the Minister for Magic will have no qualms about taking from you."
"Tom, she chose!" Merope cried, "You're making a terrible mistake!"
"The choice was never hers to make, Mother!" Tom barked. Merope's face fell as Tom snarled, "I am the Minister for Magic! I am the head of this family, I am her husband, her alpha, her mate! I say who will live and who will die! Not her…." Merope narrowed her eyes as Tom took a heavy step towards her, "...And certainly not you."
Merope let out a breath, utterly disgusted as Tom turned away.
As the healers scurried to and fro to quickly fulfill the Minister's vile command, Tom kissed Harriet's head while she slept.
In the background, Merope's sobs echoed off the chamber, knowing exactly how serious of an error in judgment Tom had made.