Author's note: Hello everyone, I am so entirely sorry for the wait! Thank you so much for sticking around and for favouriting and following this story. I hope you'll enjoy that chapter! Don't feel scared to leave a comment if you liked it, even just a smiley is fine, and it really motivates me :)
June 1945 - A Shakespearean Wedding
"I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, take you, Annabel Sybil Selwyn, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part."
—
The sky was a bright orange when she glanced up, the setting sun splendid in its cloudless vault. It was not late and yet, the riverbank was devoid of people, as if the world had retreated, conferring the place a dreamlike atmosphere. Annabel inhaled the muddy smell of the Thames, listened to the rustling sound of the waves, and she briefly glanced at the birds that yelped over the water.
She turned away from the seagulls, to watch her betrothed jog back towards her with a paper cone that he handed her.
"Take one" Tom issued as she peeked quizzically at the content of the cup, until she fished what appeared to be a candied peanut.
"By Merlin, this is frightfully good" she moaned in delight at the sweetness of the treat and Tom let out a soft chuckle. She offered him one, which he refused, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders instead, to bring her close.
They walked for a while, their hips brushing with each step, and Annabel closed her eyes, letting herself be guided by the young man's body, grateful for such privacy
A few hours ago, the girl had climbed down the metal stairs, stepped on the smoky platform. She had exited the Hogwarts Express for the last time, after an emotional ride that had marked the end of her seven years at school. The previous night, she had sat at the blue and bronze, squeezed between her friends, a wistful smile on her lips at the Headmaster's farewell speech. She had partied then, danced through the night, to celebrate her success in her exams, and to end her years at school in a blaze of glory.
Once in London, she had wished goodbye to her friends, a brief farewell that had betrayed the brevity of their parting, for they were to meet again very soon, and she had made her way through the crowd then, waited in line for the closest chimney, before she had caught sight of Tom, and she had been gripped by the excruciating urge to walk towards him and kiss him like if they were about to split, like if their paths were to never cross again.
Rarely had the girl longed for anything more than a few minutes alone with her betrothed, something she had been deprived of during the past few months. For if there was one thing that the school staff feared more than students venturing in the forbidden forest, it was to suffer from another scandal.
"I hope you understand, both of you, the enormous responsibility that is incumbent upon you" had sternly declared Dippet back in January, after he had gathered them in his office. "Your primary concern shall be nothing but the approaching exams" he had explained before he had revealed that they would now be escorted at all times.
"To help them keep their priorities straight…"
Or something of the sort.
A mere excuse to make sure that the daughter of one of the most influential families would not get knocked up outside marriage.
Over, Annabel's nocturnal escapades, the sleepless nights she used to spend with her betrothed… She had suddenly been placed under strict surveillance, with no possibility to escape. The only time she had managed to sneak out of her chaperone's supervision, she and Tom had been sent right away to the Headmaster's office. That one time, Dippet had launched into a homily on reputation and dignity, but more than the sermon itself, it was the threat of forcing them into an unbreakable vow that had kept the two of them in line.
"Dippet is right" had reasoned the Slytherin once they had stepped out of the circular room. "The NEWTs are close and we cannot risk getting in trouble with the school staff again…"
"It won't be long anymore" he had claimed at her sulking face, before he had kissed her forehead and whispered in her ear: "I promise I'll make it up to you for all these months of waiting"
"It won't be long anymore" she had repeated that day like a mantra, after she had glimpsed the young man through the crowd, but when she had made it home, to find her parents' house in a hurly-burly, a tumult caused by the preparation of her upcoming wedding, she had seriously doubted of her ability to wait another day. And when she had retreated to her room after dinner, and glanced at the sky which bore the colour of ember, she had remembered the fireplace in Tom's bedroom, in front of which they had sat and kissed and cuddled, and on a whim she had apparated out of her room, to land in front of a wrought iron gate.
"Shall I bring you back?"
Tom's words interrupted her train of thoughts and she slowed, her steps followed by the crunching sound of the shingle beach. She looked up, to notice that the stars had replaced the sun, and the girl shot the young man a side glance.
"Are you trying to get rid of me already?"
Tom rolled his eyes and he grabbed her hand to pull her close, making her spin before he wrapped his arms around her, for an embrace so tight that she thought her ribcage would break.
"Of course not silly, but you do know that we're getting married tomorrow don't you?"
"Oh, are we?" she asked against his chest with an ironic smile. "I thought my parents were throwing a party for the Prime Minister"
She had meant it as a joke, and yet, the young man let go of her, gave her a cautious look.
"I was joking"
"No you were not"
She bit her lip, feeling sorry all at once, for she had not meant to complain but then the recalled the champagne fountain, the three hundred guests her parents had invited, her family that revelled in such a pomp, the countless advices her mother had given her earlier that night, the very moment she had stepped out of the chimney, endless lessons of how to behave and what to say, which had made Annabel feel inadequate, and made the rebellious girl inside her stir and wish to fight back, refuse to perform for the sole sake of propriety.
"It's just-" she began before she let out a sigh.
"I never wanted a big wedding"
He frowned, and searched for her gaze.
"What would you have liked?"
She glanced down, bit her lip.
"I don't know. Something small, intimate. Something for us only"
"What you want is a Shakespearian wedding" Tom concluded, and her eyes grew wide, stunned that he remembered what she had once divulged to him, shamefully after too many drinks, that she used to read a book as a child, a Muggle romance in which two young folks who had fallen in love against all odds got wed in secrecy.
She peeked at Tom, slightly embarrassed all at once, for her grandfather had condemned that story already, burned the book in the hearth as he had made her watch all the while chastising her dubious literary tastes.
"Come"
—
It was dark when they arrived, her small hand lodged in his.
"I've been here before" she whispered at the sight of the building.
"Wait here" he instructed her before he left the girl on the paved square, hurried because he feared a spontaneous rain, for the air was cool and moist.
He walked past an alley of lime trees, reached an arched door behind which he knew he would find who he needed. He pounded on the wooden pane, for he cared little about the neighbour's wellbeing and the door finally swung open, to reveal a bald man, his belly protruding over the belt of his bathrobe.
"Tom!" exclaimed the bishop with wide eyes, and the latter could not help but smile at the priest's unease. He skirted the man, entered the refectory. The place had not changed ever since his last visit, and Tom recognised the red velvet drapes, the desk made out of ebony wood.
He scoured the room in a feline gait, his eyes searching for what he needed.
"To what do I owe such a pleasant surprise?"
Tom stopped near the desk, picked up a rosary that he lifted before his face. He was inspecting the fancy beads when he answered:
"I'm getting married"
Tom peeked over his shoulder at the bewildered air on the man's face.
"Here. Tonight"
The man closed and opened his mouth several times like a fish.
"To- tonight?"
"That's right. Here. Tonight. And you will lead the ceremony"
Tom placed the rosary back before he swaggered towards a wardrobe that stood behind the desk. He opened it in haste, found what he was looking for.
"That's not how it works. The banns need to be published at least three months befo-" protested the old man, but Tom ignored his words, and unhooked a purple dress from a hanger before he headed back towards the entrance.
He shoved the bishop's outfit into the man's hands, and when he turned around to reach the door that led to the nave, the priest interjected.
"Tom-" reasoned the old man. "I can't-"
"You can't what?"
Tom was in front of him now, taller of a good head. He stared the man down, anger contorting his traits.
"Please tell me about the things you can't do. I'm sure Mrs Cole will be more than interested to hear about the things you can to the kids from Wool's on Sunday school"
Tom shoved the clerical attire in the priest's arms. The latter was shivering, and Tom drew in close.
"I heard you like them quite young. Don't you Father?"
The bishop curled up against the wall, glanced at Tom as if the latter was the reincarnation of the Antichrist. The young man stepped back, before he turned around.
"A short blessing will do"
—
A loud bang resonated above her head, and the girl glanced up to find a lightning scarring the sky. She moved closer to the building, to protect herself from the storm, and the moment she leaned against the wooden door, the latter swung open.
She peeked into the room and marvelled at the beauty of the scene. The nave was lit by hundreds of candlelights, flickering flames that twinkled in the dark like countless fireflies. She breathed in, filled her lungs with the pleasant smoke that filled the air, and she glanced around in awe, mesmerised by each and single nook around her.
"Come darling" she heard a voice invite her, and she found Tom near the altar, his dark eyes locked on her.
She minced into the church, self-conscious all at once, for the aisle was long and wide, disturbed by her presence only. A music resounded in the air, a melody that invited her to march, and she let her feet carry her, all the way to the altar.
"Is this more to your liking my lady?" whispered Tom once she stood next to him, and he linked his fingers to hers, brought her hand to his lips. He cherished her skin with a kiss, and she smiled, elated, her heart racing at the very thought of what was happening.
The music stopped, and a man appeared, cladded in a funny purple outfit.
"Where is your witness?" he asked, severe, a question that Tom dismissed.
"We won't need one"
The man grumbled, opened a book while Tom wrapped a hand around her waist, pulled her close before he whispered in her ear.
"We have to kneel"
She nodded, tiny gestures of the head before her knees met the cold stone. She rested her elbows on the balustrade before her, joined her hands like she had read.
"Dearly beloved" began the priest. "You have come together in-"
"Wait!"
Tom stood up suddenly, stepped aside. He jogged towards a statue on the left, one that portrayed a veiled woman, and he plucked a white rose from the bouquet that lay at her feet.
"Here darling" he cooed, and handed Annabel the flower under the irate glance of the man, before he regained the place next to her.
"You may pursue"
The priest's face was the colour of his robe when he started again to read.
"Dearly beloved, you have come together to the house of the church so that in the presence of the church's minister, your intention to enter into marriage may be strengthened by the Lord with a sacred seal"
He paused.
"Repeat after me"
"I" repeated Tom, his deep voice filling the room, and when he pronounced her name, in exquisite undulations, she knew then, oh yes she knew that she was in love with him.
—
"Let's wait here until it gets better" declared Tom when he came back with a sponge cloth in hand.
Her legs were swinging in the air, a dozen inches above the parquet floor and she glanced around as she dried her locks with the towel. She acknowledged the decrepitude of the room and the bare walls, the plainness of the furnitures. A single bed in the corner, near a desk on which she sat, and the young man, who stood near the door, as if their presence in that very place was only meant to be brief.
The rain had caught them by surprise, shortly after they had exited the church, and the presence of a few passersby had discouraged them from apparating. "The storm is getting worse" had yelled Annabel from the top of her lungs, to cover the sound of the pouring rain, and Tom, after shooting her a sideways glance, had finally clasped her hand and said he knew where to go.
They had run past the wrought iron gate, before the young man had swiftly led Annabel to a side door which had led to a cellar. There, he had motioned for the girl to be quiet before he had peeked through the door left ajar, and smuggled her inside the orphanage.
"It's not much but it's dry" he had said when he had opened the door of his bedroom, with a detachment she knew was meant to hide his discomfort. She had simply nodded, grateful for the providential refuge and she had sat on the desk after they'd stepped in, for her legs were tired from their previous walk.
A few books were stacked on the desk next to her, illuminated by the oil lamp the young man had turned on after they had entered the room.
She picked up the first one, opened it.
"You're way past the due date sir" she said in a falsely condemning tone before she flipped the pages of what appeared to be a schoolbook. She squinted in the dim light, realised the great amount of numbers that adorned each page.
She knew little about teaching outside the wizarding world, but she asked nevertheless, mainly to strike up conversation with the young man who kept peeking every so often at the window behind her.
"Did you attend a Muggle school?"
She imagined Tom as a child, sitting behind a school desk, learning about whatever Muggle kids were taught, too gorgeous and too smart for his classmates.
"I did" he simply replied and she looked back at the textbook and turned the first page, wondering if he had been as popular back then as had had been at the castle. Flashes of the past few months came back to her, the longing gazes of the other girls, the slanders of some of them.
She looked to the side to take her mind off the upsetting memory, and noticed a photograph between the wall and an exposed pipe, sole decoration of the young man's bedroom. She fished it with her fingers, observed the picture that showed a cliff behind a raging sea.
"It's beautiful" she gaped.
"Who took it?"
"Me. During a school trip"
"The picture does not move"
"Muggles photos don't"
She let out a little "oh" and brushed the photograph with her thumb.
She placed it back, and peeked over her shoulder.
The rain was still pouring, pattering against the window and she observed Tom who was still standing near the entrance, yet now with a hand on the door handle. Did he regret having brought her here?
"I don't" he replied, and his words made her jump.
She was not used to it yet, of that new ability of his, for Tom could now read her mind at times, a shift that had occurred shortly after the announcement of the banns, as if the promise of an union between them had had Annabel drop her guard.
She blushed as she recalled how they had both noticed that change, one day in class, while her mind had been filled with concupiscent thoughts, and she had been staring at Tom's gorgeous hands, pondering on how good they could make her feel if they wandered under her skirt. The young man had turned around then, looked at her in awe, and she had been ashamed all the time since then.
"Let's go"
Jolted out of her thoughts, she realised the rain had stopped, and she looked at Tom, whose voice was low and deep. She realised suddenly, of that opportunity they were about to miss, for they were alone once, for the first time in months.
She glanced to the side, peeked at the single bed, and with an audacity she did not know she had, she said:
"You said we should wait until marriage. But we're married now aren't we?"
"We are"
"Aren't we going to do it?
"Do what?"
"You know…" she pursued while she played with the hem of her dress.
"The thing people do on their wedding night"
Her voice was only a whisper and he let out a laugh, a single sound that felt to her like a sneer and made her feel shy.
"Are you asking if I'm going to make love to you?"
She blushed and looked down, suddenly coy, before footsteps echoed in the room. Tom was in front of her now, and he stroked her cheek before he forced her to glance up.
"Uhm?" he asked as he searched for a gaze.
"Is that what you're asking?"
"Because I am, Annabel. I'm going to make love to you. But not here, and not now"
He stepped away, let go of her before he walked back to the door and such distance was incredibly painful to her.
"Why not?" she managed to ask, and he looked at her over his shoulder.
"Because your bed is much more comfortable" he replied before he rushed her.
"Come on, stand up. I'll bring you back to your parents' house and no one will ever know you were here"
Yet when he turned around, Annabel had not moved an inch.
"I don't want to go back"
Her voice was only a whisper, and he frowned at her beseech.
"Darling, it's late, and we're getting married tomorrow"
"We got married just now, you said it yourself"
He inhaled, and she knew she was testing his patience. After all, had he not granted her what she wanted already, thwarting her parents' plans by wedding her a day ahead, gifting her the ceremony she had always wanted, before he had opened up to her even more, welcomed her to that ramshackle place she knew he hated?
And yet, she could not leave.
"Let's do it here" she prodded.
"What?"
"Let's do it here. Replace bad memories by good ones"
"Anna…"
"Please?" she urged him.
"I like it here. It makes me feel close to you"
The room was silent now, and Tom stared at her, noticing her imploring yet daring look. They were speechless for a while, quiet negotiations at work, until she called him that name he had once asked her to.
"Please my lord"
She saw him swallow, and at the gleam in his eyes, she knew she had won the fight.
Tom observed her for a while, motionless, before he turned around.
"Lie down" he issued, his voice hoarse, and Annabel did as he pleased. The mattress squeaked under her weight and she placed her head on the pillow, arranged her hair around her face.
She lay still, quiet and calm, focused on her feelings, and on the muffled noises of the place, on the sounds Tom made as he dragged a chair to block the door before he walked back towards her.
He made her move to the side, so she could accommodate him on the bed, before he looked at her and pondered over his feelings.
Annabel had entered his life like a tidal wave, like the storm they had encountered that night, a propitious rain in the hot summer months, yet fierce and unforeseen. She had swept everything in her path, all chaotic she was, upsetting the things he thought he knew, playing havoc with his plans, and yet there she lay, in all her complexities, sweet but strong, conquered yet proud.
He would let her have it, be the one in charge for her first time, even if it costed him, for he would have rather chosen a double bed, and the comfort of her bedroom.
"Are you sure?" he asked again and she nodded enthusiastically.
Gently, he seized the hem of her dress, slid the fabric along her thighs, uncovering her skin. She shivered, aware of Tom's capable hands, deliciously smooth against her skin and she closed her eyes in relish.
He reached her crotch and grazed at her folds, which made her shiver.
She parted her legs in an immodest gesture, eager for more, and he smiled at how she was offering herself to him.
"Kiss me" he growled as he lay next to her, and she shut her eyes and proposed her lips to him.
He seized them, slid his tongue into her mouth when he slid a finger inside her, entering her from both sides, and the thought of him surrounding her made her moan. He moved, his finger thrusting into her, forcing sighs out of the girl who reddened at the sounds of her damp core.
She came against his hand, thighs trembling as she dissolved into pleasure, and she lay still for a while as she recovered from her fall.
She watched him between her lashes while he sat up and undressed, in rushed gestures that betrayed his longing. Her dress followed, just like her underwear, and once she was bare before him he settled between her legs.
"Are you scared?" he asked while he caressed her sides and hips, soothing gestures for her crazed heart.
She nodded, for she was, even though she wished she wasn't, and Tom disclosed in a whisper that he was scared too.
"Why? It's not your first time" she asked, and he grabbed her hand, placed it on his chest so she could acknowledge his thrills.
"It's my first time with you"
She squirmed to wrap her arms around Tom's neck, pulled him close for a tight embrace. She kissed his cheek, drew invisible circles on his back.
"Don't be scared" she whispered to him, in a way that made them both laugh.
"I'm ready" she whispered when she felt him against her thigh, hard and aching, proof of his yearning for her.
He moved, positioned himself between her lips, before he entered her, slowly, carefully, aware of the myriad of emotions that showed on her face.
It did not hurt, not half as much as she had feared, but it felt strange, and full and big, overwhelming if anything.
"Touch yourself" he whispered in her ear when he believed she was in pain, which helped with her distraught feelings.
Yet, she did not come when he did, but she realised she did not care, for he had given her far more that night than she had hoped, and offered himself to her, and when she had succumbed to Morpheus' arms, in that small bed of his, Tom had pushed away her hair, and whispered three little words she had thought she would never hear.