Author's Notes: I felt like updating here today. An inexplicable whim, if you will. Enjoy the wedding.

Chapter Thirty-six:
Silent Wedding Bells

Rain drummed against the roof the morning of our wedding. I sat upon the edge of my bed in the flat which was serving as our temporary home; I was waiting for the time to pass. In hours Tom and I would be wed, yet even the seconds dragged on, days within themselves, and so it felt as though the moment would never arrive. It was not any measure of help that the weather had taken such an inexplicable turn, and my hands were then chilled–although, this may have also been due to my anxiety. Tom was not there to keep me warm, for his presence had been required at Borgin and Burke's, whose entrance we could easily view from our residence across the street from it.

With a sigh into my hands, I gazed at the chair over which my wedding dress was draped. I remembered purchasing it the day before in Diagon Alley with Hagrid, for Tom had been reluctant to have me go alone. Though, he had been even more unwilling at my chosen company. It had been all I could do to firmly remind him that Hagrid was still a friend of mine, and it was only fair that I saw him before the wedding, for he would not be in attendance. Indeed, no one would, save Tom, myself, and Dumbledore. True to Tom's word, everything was to be a secret. In the end of our discussion, I was only permitted to let Hagrid accompany me because he already knew of our engagement. That day, the sun had brightly shone.

Yet now the sky was grey, on a day which should have been brightly lit and cloudless. I was not overly superstitious, but I believed that rain upon the day of a wedding was ill-fated luck, and a portent of what was to come. I also believed that a groom should not see his bride until the ceremony began; that was why we would arrive separately by Apparition, if the time ever decided to come. Tom had told me countless times that these foolish beliefs were for muggles, as he had heard of them throughout his earlier days at the orphanage. But could they not also be wizarding superstitions? My own mother had told them to me, once upon a time. And after all, was not bad luck in magical hands, not muggle?

I shook my head violently, nigh jarring myself. I should not have thought of those things. Weather was uncontrollable; it did not habitually act as a warning–one which I had already promised not to listen to. Quickly, I scanned the room with my eyes until I found a small bookshelf, upon which was scattered an even smaller number of books. I Summoned one to me, not caring of the title or subject matter. It would have to serve as a distraction.

However much later it was, I did not know, but eventually, I heard a sharp knock upon the door of my room. I tossed the book aside, having not retained a word, and glanced out the narrow window. The rain had relented into a slight drizzle, but still it was enough to lift my spirits.

"Hello, Tom," I greeted merrily just before the door swung open. Tom entered the room, slightly disheveled and weary in appearance, though he still flashed me as large a smile as he could muster. I was in his arms ere he twice blinked.

"Hello, Danielle," he said, kissing the top of my head and then my lips. I breathed in his warmth for a moment before I broke away. "I have come to see if you are prepared to leave soon. It is nearly time."

I glanced at the clock, then gasped in shock. "Oh dear! It is already so late!"

He nodded. "I must dress, and then I will depart. I will await your arrival with anticipation." He kissed me once more, and then briskly walked from the room, closing the door behind him.

As soon as he had left and I heard his footsteps fade, I Summoned my gown in a flurry. Quickly, I shed my plain, normal clothing, and stepped with great care into the dress, which slid over my skin with the feeling of an invisibility cloak. When at last I had the sleeves pulled upon my shoulders, I adjusted the hem and waist, for I had not before found the time to do so; I was still petit, and so it was rare that something fit in precisely the size in which it was bought.

When it felt as I thought it should, I regarded my reflection in the mirror. Staring back at me was a woman with an air of elegance, whose gown complemented her skin, instead of appearing awkward with its paleness and imperfections. The dress itself rippled along the frame of her body in currents of white, gathering once in the back before it fell into the flow. The sleeves narrowed at her wrists, and the hint of skin above her chest was nigh entirely masked by a field of lace, which stretched downward until it joined the bubbling fabric at the bottom. Only when I saw that her feet were bare and her hair untouched did I realize that this woman was no beautiful stranger, but myself.

Feeling the spell ebb away, I conjured a handful of combs and pins, then bewitched them to style my unsightly tresses. In a matter of moments, they fell still, their task complete. I regarded the mirror once more and discovered my hair to be in a loose knot at the back of my head, its severity softened by the wisp-like curls that had been excluded to frame my face. Clumsily, I added a red hint to my lips and darkened my eyelashes by a half shade. When I was through I felt that for once in my life, I was perfect. For one day, I could not be the plain girl whose guise I donned at all other times. With a contented sigh, I stepped into my shoes and draped my veil over my head. The latter was like a container, holding in all of the emotions I knew would otherwise burst forth, uncontrolled.

I lastly conjured a bouquet of white roses, though just before I Apparated away, I changed them to a brilliant red.

Not a drop of rain had touched the clearing into which I soon entered, for it was shielded by a large spell which stretched overhead. Indeed, I could see the droplets spattering against and dripping along an invisible dome. The leaves of the surrounding trees were of a green only glimpsed during the springtime, and the grass beneath my feet glittered though it was not wet. From within the shadows of the forest I emerged, and I walked along a path of tiny white flowers, which had grown into two curving, parallel lines, It led to the clearing's center, above which floated a sheer canopy, like a flying carpet nigh made from the air itself. The outstretched branches of the trees held lanterns, whose light could only be distinguished because of the clouds.

At first, I kept my eyes to the ground, watching my feet for fear that I would fall, and I listened to the soft chorus of wood nymphs from within the depths of the trees. Yet then I lifted my eyes and saw Tom. At that moment, no handsomer man had ever been in existence. He was dressed in robes as ebony as the night, which contrasted with the paleness of his skin as the white had complemented mine. His hair was equally as dark, styled in a carefree yet aristocratic manner, and his eyes... Even when I was almost beside him, I could not discern their exact hue.

We held each other's gaze for what could have been any length of time between a quarter of a minute and a quarter of an hour. For a moment, I thought I saw his eyes flash a reddish shade, and for some unexplainable reason, I felt the need to turn away. When I looked at him once more, his eyes had returned to that which they normally were. Whatever I had seen I excused as a trick of my own nervousness.

It was only after I dropped my eyes a second time did I notice Professor Dumbledore standing at Tom's right. His robes were a deep purple, and his lengthy beard was tucked into the gold of his belt. He declined his head in a nod at my approach, and I smiled from behind my veil,

"Shall we begin?" he inquired jovially, waving his fingers so that a dusty book materialized into his awaiting hands. "I have not conducted many weddings as of late, I'm afraid," he added when he saw the look Tom was throwing the great tome.

I gently brushed my fingertips against Tom's hand in a silent and subtle warning. Not now, I pleaded in my mind. In an instant, his tensed body relaxed and the corners of his mouth turned upward; though this latter movement was only slight, I was immensely grateful, and sent him a silent thanks. For a moment, I thought I saw him nod.

Just then, it appeared that Professor Dumbledore had found his place within the book, for he began to speak–though he seemed to be disregarding the text before him.

"It is one of the most remarkable phenomena, the bond that is formed between beings as they prepare to unite in marriage. At times, we must even wonder if such a powerful magic exists, for indeed it is nothing but magic, though a different kind than many of us know of or have experienced. It does not require wandwork, nor does it derive from the shuffling of playing cards. No, love cannot be categorized, and so it is a magic of its own.

"You have asked me to marry you, and marry you I will, for I believe in this magic, strong and miraculous as it is. And I believe that it grows within your hearts even as I speak, and that it has been growing since it was a seed many years ago. Over time, Danielle, your love for Tom may obliterate faults within him and yourself, and for you, Tom, it may do the same."

When I glanced at Tom, his eyes were burning with intense dislike.

"And now is the time for you to be united with the vows that laced together the very marriage of Salazar Slytherin himself," Dumbledore continued, unfazed, "which has prevailed throughout countless centuries to be bestowed upon you."

Tom breathed deeply, and then commenced his recitation.

"From the depths of my soul
I thee have watched
O'er a time so that I may know
It is thee whom I doth choose to be
The keeper of my being whole
Through darkness and night
I do profess
To maintain for thee a burning light
And when shadows cometh 'cross thy path
Keep them I will from thy site.
Thus I promise that our blood
Shall be as if from one
My hand is thine as it should
For I to thee now personify
My everlasting love."

Tears had sprung unbidden to my eyes at the conclusion of his words, and I required a moment to collect myself before I could begin mine.

"I have looked into thy soul
And in there I have seen
Thine eyes watching at each toll
And often in between
I have come to trust thy word
And so I do believe
These words to me thou put forward
Are truly meant to be
In turn it is I who thee promise
To love thee just as great
When thou art absent I shall miss
Thine amorous embrace
Favors that thou doth me give
I promise to return
For now as long as I shall live
My love for thee doth burn."

I sniffed in spite of myself, and then joined hands with Tom, who said, "I take thee for mine own, Danielle. I take thee for my wife." He slipped a ring onto my finger.

I did the same upon his as I replied, "I take thee for mine own, Thomas. I take thee for my life."

Dumbledore stepped forward and placed his hands so that they hovered over ours. "As there is no one present who wishes to object, I pronounce you, Danielle Elysabeth Parmellie, and you, Thomas Marvolo Riddle, as husband and wife." From his hands flowed a glittering white light, which encircled us as he said, "Tom, you may kiss your bride."

Tom's lips swept over mine as he lifted my veil, sealing our promises. I cared not that our former professor was there to witness us, all that mattered was that at last, I was a married to Tom. I was Tom's wife. I kissed him as I had never done before, all of the emotions I felt for him channeling through it. We were a world of our own, with magic of an inconceivable kind.

When we broke apart, Dumbledore took a photograph, though I knew that such was unnecessary; I would remember this moment until the day I died. Above us, wedding bells tolled in silence.