She had met him in the train to Hogwarts back in first year. No matter how hard he had tried to hide his excitement, his bright countenance and starry eyes had been honest as he asked to share her carriage, citing that the others were all full.
Tom Riddle, he had introduced himself.
Briana Selwyn, but you can call me Bree, she had reciprocated with a mirror of his polite smile.
When he had shown no looks of disgust nor mockery upon learning her name, relief had washed over her and she had allowed herself to ease the tension in her body – not completely, dear Lord, never completely. But life had never been her strongest ally, Briana had thought as the pair chatted during the ride – sharing their anticipations for their year ahead as firsties tended to do – and soon, her momentary respite had come to an end when dread had begun to haunt her.
He'll dislike me once he knows, a bitter taste on her tongue, just like everyone else does.
She hadn’t allowed herself to hope, no. He would leave her just the same and she would have only a couple hours’ worth of memory of their brief encounter to pine after – to fuel her ‘what if’s and ‘if only’s. Hence, when the semester had started and she had found herself as alone as ever as the year dragged on, she hadn’t been surprised; regardless of how her broken heart had shattered further, the shrapnel lodging themselves inside her. Hence, imagine her befuddlement now, when she found herself sharing a private space – despite the astronomy tower being a public space – with one Tom Riddle after four years of pretending they had never been friends, even if it had lasted only one day.
Instead of acting on his prefect duty and reprimanding her for being out of bed after curfew – during the first week of class, no less – Tom kept silent as he walked towards where she laid on the floor, legs propped up and hands fidgeting on her stomach, in the middle of the room. After years of practice, she was finally able to spell the ceiling to mimic the night sky, much like the castle’s Great Hall, but only for an hour. Briana forced herself to gaze back up and ignored the rapid thumping of her heart as Tom drew closer and closer. She prepared herself to cast a Shield Charm wandlessly, a feat she had been forced to learn on her own after her tormentor had successfully disarmed her on multiple occasions, and unknowingly held her breath in apprehension. She watched in her peripheral vision as Tom stopped a foot away from her and, after a short moment of hesitation, moved to sit on the ground right where he had stood, his body facing the same direction as hers.
The silence was dull to her ears as her thoughts ran a marathon around her head. The stars grew distant and blurry, her right hand had begun scratching her left arm to feel something – anything – to counter her fading senses, and she would’ve missed Tom’s voice interjecting the peace of the night if it hadn’t been for the fact that she had trained herself to register any sound regardless of how absent she felt in her own body.
Her head snapped to her right, casting the boy a doubtful look which he ignored in favour of leaning back on his hands to admire the ceiling expressionlessly. I won’t hurt you, Tom had said. It wasn’t rocket science to figure out why Briana didn’t trust that.
However, when he said nor did anything else as the minutes ticked by, her doubts became bemusement and she allowed herself to return her attention to the sky mimicry. No more words nor looks were exchanged between them, and when the hour was up and the stars had disappeared to expose the rest of the room, Briana steadfastly kept her gaze onto the ceiling beams even as Tom gave out a heavy sigh before getting up and leaving without acknowledging her presence beyond a murmur of, “goodnight, Bree.”
Briana’s heart stuttered.
Bree. He had called her Bree.
What did that mean?
Probably nothing, many would argue; and she would be wise to agree. However, it was the first time that anyone had called her by her nickname since she was seven – her first meeting with Tom unaccounted for, for he had not known the tales revolving her then. Not even her roommates had had the opportunity to refer to her as such before the rumours had spread and they, too, had turned against her; although they still kept up friendly pretences in public because – Merlin forbid – the entire school found out that Hufflepuffs were not all sunshine and rainbows. Hence, there was no doubt that Tom had heard of the gossips by now. And yet, he had called her Bree.
Others might have easily shrugged off a happenstance encounter from first year, but Briana couldn’t help but wish over the years that the moment had had a chance to flourish and given her a friend. Alas, it could never happen – or so she had thought until now. For Tom to regard her with familiarity after all this time, she couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever spared her a moment’s thought. Or perhaps their previous time together had only flashed very briefly in his mind when he had bidden her goodnight and he thought naught else about it. Surely, that must be it. It couldn’t be anything else. He didn’t care for her.
Tears prickled her eyes. She inhaled sharply.
No tears.
And that was that.
The weeks passed with the usual radio silence from Tom. He paid her no attention as always and it didn’t hurt her, not when she had been treated worse – treated horribly – she was just confused. Confused as to why Tom hadn’t treated her as a stranger would that night when he could’ve simply taken points off of her and sent her back to bed without any fuss. Confused at his intention when he had chosen to accompany her quietly without prompt and had even reassured her that he had meant no harm in approaching her. Confused at why she even cared. There was no hope in making friends at this stage – in fifth year – when all the cliques and friendship groups had been established and rooted to the ground. There was especially zero expectation that she should make any now considering how the masses looked at her; in pity, fear, disdain. Cursed, they sneered at her. Will only bring about doom and death, the stories painted her to be.
Why else had the dementor kissed her if not because Magic had wanted her dead?!
Like a rope, her mother’s words spun and tightened around Briana, rendering her short of breath when they locked around her lungs, giving her no room to breathe. Air escaped her in short gasps and she had to strain her energy to inhale without choking.
She heard the footsteps before they reached the top.
Already sat up, Briana quickly snapped her head to the left so that the approaching individual couldn’t see her face when they would inevitably make it up the tower and tried to restrain her breathing even further than it already was to keep herself still and inconspicuous.
The footsteps halted.
Unavoidably, her trembling figure gave away her distressed state and when the stranger picked up on their steps again, a nonchalant voice accompanied the foreboding sound of shoes tapping against the tile. “Should I call for Madam Flint?”
Tom.
They were back in the same place where they had met exactly one week ago.
As much as Briana would love to keep silent and shake her head to indicate her answer, her head had started to throb out of exertion of her strength. She took a shuddering breath in and managed out a quiet, quivering, “no,” only audible to Tom due to the lack of noises around.
Tom said nothing as she heard him set himself down at the same spot he had taken last week, giving her space to deepen her shallow breaths slowly but gradually until she felt confident enough that her face wouldn’t spell out her suppressed pain and discomfort if she were to reveal her side profile to the puzzling boy beside her. She opted out of gazing at the star-covered ceiling above her like Tom was doing and gathered her knees, folding and placing her arms on top of them and resting her chin on her arms, eyes casted onto the floor as she tried to regain control of her destructive thoughts.
Her mother’s shriek was still ringing distantly in her head when Tom shut Lady Selwyn down with a question aimed at Briana. “Does that happen often?”
Without facing Tom, she knew that he hadn’t turned to her either. In a low voice, she gave an assent, “frequently enough.”
It wasn’t a secret, people had seen her attacks in public – when they would stumble upon her after her encounter with the causal person of her panic, or when certain triggers had been activated either on purpose or not. Word, of course, had spread to the rest of the school population, and even going as far as the students’ grandparents, and more accusatory looks had been shot her way, as if her episodes had been a punishment bestowed upon her by Magic for deflecting her attempted murder at her seventh birthday and not a natural reaction that she had grown accustomed to due to the stress placed on her for many years. She didn’t bother rectifying the rumours; no one would believe her anyway.
Tom gave a hum of acknowledgement and said no more. Briana followed the silence with her own and kept her eyes downcast. It was a fair while later when he piped up again, a comment leaving his lips this time around. “He brags about it every time.”
Her body stiffened. But as the notion registered fully, she could only scoff out a breath of laughter humorously with her fist clenched tightly in an attempt to fight against her sorrow. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
“You’re good at Defence; far better than Yaxley. Why don’t you fight back?”
Briana turned to regard Tom with a bitter smile, who had also torn his eyes away from the glimmering sky to give her his utmost attention. With a single sentence that spoke volumes of her experience and her prior attempts in defending herself, she retorted softly, “what good will it do?”
There was a furrow in his eyebrows that she could almost mistake to be concern for her. His eyes traced her features, sparking in her bouts of insecurities in his wake. Even in the dim lighting of the cosmic life, there was no denying the paleness of Briana’s face. Sunken eyes that had seen too much, cheeks voided of the slightest hint of colour to liven her countenance, and lips that had smiled too few times in the past near decade of her life. These features were as unchanging as the sea and she had been plagued with them ever since that fateful day with the dementor. She was no looker, not one bit, especially not when Annabelle was everything she wasn’t – people liked to compare the two sisters as they would the sun and moon – and she resolutely turned away from Tom to avoid the inevitable scorn of her appearance.
“Bree.” She hummed. “Bree, look at me.” She did no such thing.
Next thing she knew, he had curled a finger under her chin while his thumb held her face unforcefully. The gentle nature of his hold, as if giving her the option to reject his touch, was the deciding factor for Briana to allow him to coax her into facing him once again. The unmistakeable tension filling the gap between them urged her to lock her eyes with his and – Helga knows – she couldn’t look away. The dark irises of his eyes that were usually guarded no matter how friendly he had postured himself in public – a feature of his that she had caught onto all the way back in first year – swirled with unfamiliar emotions that took her breath away. The concern that she had denied from him was clear to her now and she felt helpless in his hold, not knowing how to react when the only ones who cared to worry about her were the house elves at home and, sometimes, the head of the Hufflepuff house. It was the unnamed simmering sentiments in Tom that advised her to approach his concern differently, however, and while she had an inkling as to what these feelings he was presenting to her with were, she doubted herself. How could she not when the person who should be looking at her like Tom was, had turned out to be the one who would revel in her agony and terror?
Briana’s thoughts cut off when Tom gave her a smile, small – much subtler than any of the cordial ones he sported as he strolled down the hallways of the castle – but genuine. Nothing could prepare her for the next three words he uttered and she would find herself sleeping soundly later, for the first time in ages, as his voice repeated like a mantra in her head – a welcomed change from the usual taunts from her memories.
You’re beautiful, Bree.
Her wide eyes and parted lips once the words had left Tom’s lips didn’t even get a chance to embarrass her when his smile promptly turned fond as he took in her bewildered expression. He didn’t shame her wordless response, instead dropping his hold on her chin to place his hand atop her right hand that had fallen onto the ground. She didn’t retaliate when he took her hand in his, bringing it up so that he could catch Briana further off-guard by giving the back of her hand a short but firm kiss.
He must’ve caught her disbelief from her face and he let their hands fall, still clasped together, and reassured her of his honesty. “You’ve always been beautiful, Bree. I knew so four years ago and I know so now.”
“But- I- you’ve never…”
When Briana trailed off hesitantly, Tom offered with a regretful smile, “approached you ever since?” Her silence was all he needed. She followed his gaze when he looked down at their hands and watched him adjust his hold to weave their fingers together. When her eyes flickered back to his face, she was taken aback to see uncertainty crossing his expression. “That was a mistake that I wish to amend; I shouldn’t have left you just like that.”
She tried forming sentences in her mind, only letting them slip off her tongue when they sounded agreeable. “Then… why did you?” It had come out quietly and without accusations, tinged only with woe for all the time lost between them.
“What was a boy to do,” Tom started with a hopeless tone, “when he had found out that the girl he could only ever hope to want, had already been fated to another person?”
A hiccup threatened to escape her throat.
“What was a boy to do,” he continued bitterly, “when he had learned that the girl and her fiancé held a status so far out of reach, that he couldn’t even catch a glimpse of their standing no matter how hard he tried?”
“Tom, please-”
“And what was I to do,” the grief in his voice rang loudly despite his hushed volume, “when you have only proved yourself ever more beautiful and lovable over the years, that I could only dream to be worthy of your affections?”
A sob wracked through Briana’s body tearlessly. Her lips wavered as she held back her cries and Tom softened upon seeing the tears brimming in her eyes. His apology had barely left his lips when Briana shook her head firmly, her headache be damned. “No- no, please,” she tried to catch her breath, “I’m sorry.”
They were both sitting up with their body facing each other at this point and Tom lifted his other hand up to cradle her cheek gently. “There’s nothing for you to apologise for, darling.”
She, again, shook her head rashly. “I’m sorry that you had to learn it from someone else. I’m sorry that I’ve never tried to change things between us; I could’ve been the one to reconnect with you but I had thought that you- that you wouldn’t want me. I’m sorry that I- I can’t- no,” she shuddered. It was with absolute strength that she managed to pull away from his comforting touch against her desire. The flash of hurt in his eyes only singed her heart painfully and it took all her willpower not to cave into his tender care. She had to do this – she had to stop it before it was too late for the both of them. “I shouldn’t,” she corrected.
Her eyes had been shut tightly and she held her breath in anticipation of the sound of Tom leaving. The footsteps never sounded, however, and a heart-wrenching whisper instead left Tom’s lips. “Oh, Bree, my love...”
Never had anything sent her heart aflutter just like that.
Hesitantly, she blinked her eyes open to see Tom still sat up and patiently looking at her with eyes that the starry sky above could never compare up to. He gestured towards her hand with a soft, “may I?” To which, she relented without a fuss. He took both her hands in his this time, caressing them with his thumbs while smiling so softly at her. “You won’t even give me a chance? Am I that horrendous, love?”
His teasing tone brought about a watery smile on her lips and Merlin could not erase the fondness written on her face. “You know it’s not that, Tom. I just…” He spared her a look of understanding but she went on anyway. “I can’t risk getting caught engaging in infidelity. Helga knows what they would do if they found out- what he would do.”
Tom frowned at this. “That’s… true. I can’t have you risking your safety for me.”
Briana gave a grin, feeling the happiest she had ever been in years despite the heartbreaking situation she was in simply because she had Tom. “Top of the year and you hadn’t thought that far? Whatever happened to you Mr. Riddle?”
He let her easy-going lilt charm him and reflected it back at her. “I’ll admit, I hadn’t even been confident that you’d grace me with a second of your time, much less been sure that you’d even accept my advances.” Merlin, she could die a happy death in this moment. “I had meant it when I said that you are worth more than I deserve.”
“Oh, Tom.” No tears, no tears. She bit her lower lip momentarily to suppress her next words, but they came out of her quietly anyways. “I want this too- us. I want us.” But we can’t, went unsaid but echoed in their ears regardless. But when their eyes met, they knew what they had was unavoidable – that sparks flew. Her hands felt right in his and that was all that mattered in that moment.
And so, in the privacy of the calm night, they were content to pretend that all else existed not; that their worries were simply nightmares and that they could be together. Live the moment for it could never be anything more. Except, the moment turned into two.
Then, two to three.
A fourth time happened.
Then, a fifth.
And more.
Each time they met under the same circumstances on Friday night, the outside world and its troubles were forgotten and Briana and Tom got to live a dream – a wish. The footlong distance between them stood no chance by the third week and, by the sixth, Briana felt comfortable in letting Tom wrap his arms around her as she sat with her back against his front torso. Beyond that, she felt safe. Two months into it, they had grown close – far too close, her conscience added – enough that she put up no arguments when Tom had started to pepper her skin with lingering kisses. Her wrists, her neck; she allowed herself to bask in his touch – a mistake.
Then, when his lips would trail up to her jaw and near her lips, she’d pull away. The festering guilt ate her up whenever he was inches away from kissing her lips and she’d recoil from him, her scars underneath her glamour spell burning in phantom pain. Tom would take no offence with her choices and would simply connect their foreheads together in silent apology. Was it cruel of her to withhold a proper kiss from Tom if she allowed everything else? Was it cruel of her to excuse her infidelity by never placing her lips onto Tom?
Was it cruel of her to indulge in this in the first place?
Besides announcing their relationship publicly and engaging in physical intimacy beyond innocent kisses from Tom aimed anywhere but the lips, they did everything that a couple would do. They confided in each other, talked of futures and marriages, and even went on dates – that was, if they counted their late-night trysts as dates. Briana was there for Tom when he had week-longs fixations on ‘nerdy’ topics like unicorns and warding spells, or when he had trouble grappling with his true birth history, and she had also patiently dealt with and redirected his misguided frustrations against all-things muggle. Tom had cared for Briana during her attacks and their aftermaths, he had soothed her worries of academics, self-esteems, and life in general. He had even, at multiple points, sent Yaxley to the Hospital Wing hidden under the guise of tragic accidents while ensuring that Briana wouldn’t receive the brunt of her fiancé’s anger by keeping track of Yaxley’s whereabouts and instigating distractions to get rid of the snake’s tempestuous nerves.
Briana had never been happier.
Autumn gave way to winter.
Winter turned into spring.
The seasons flew by and they found themselves back in Autumn of the next year, when they had become sixth-years, and reality caught up to them in the form of Briana and Yaxley’s wedding invitations.
They were due to marry on New Year’s Eve – a cruel birthday gift to Tom, indeed. Briana had stolen one of the invitations for Tom in a whim, knowing full well that it was unlikely that he would want to attend. She insisted he kept it anyway, in case he ever changed his mind, and it took immense conviction from Tom not to incinerate it immediately.
In the weeks leading up to the wedding, Briana and Tom grew solemn. Chatters were quiet and sparse between them and the air held them tense. Gone were restful nights and Briana could count on one hand the nights where she didn’t cry herself to sleep. Her hopes for a miracle depleted with every passing day and it had become a habit to rein in her tears whenever her sights fell upon Tom. Tom, himself, held her in his arms stronger and longer, unwilling to part himself from her that they had, thrice now, ended up staying in the astronomy tower until the sun had begun to peek over the horizon – not that she had complained. All that, and they had yet to verbalise the elephant in the room. Ultimately, the task was unavoidable and it was a wonder that they had managed to postpone it until the final week before the winter holidays.
They didn’t bring it up as they settled themselves on the floor, not even as they talked lowly about their winter plans, nor did they acknowledge Briana’s early birthday gift to Tom as, quite possibly, the last thing she could ever gift him. Her present was a flower, a single stem of forget-me-not, spelled by her to never wilt, scent and vibrancy to never fade, and overflowing with her magic because she had used Patronus Magic to envelop the flowers with her joy and love, her feelings for Tom – while she was unable to call on her patronus like her accidental magic had done all those years ago due to the dementor’s kiss, its magic went beyond merely summoning a guardian. They skirted around the issue, ever present and intimidating, and it was only when they had stood up to retire for the night that it all came to a head.
Briana and Tom stood with their bodies facing each other, her hands clasped in his and hanging in the tiny space between them.
This was it. There would be no more ‘Briana and Tom’ after this.
Their eyes spoke of their sentiments wordlessly, shiny and stricken with heartbreak, despair, and love. They had never said the word, had never said the three damning words for fear that they could never return from it ever. Regardless, they knew it floated around them, clear as crystal, and Briana was, at this point, only mildly guilty of feeling such a way for a man that wasn’t her contracted fiancé.
Briana searched Tom’s eyes for regret, peeking into every nook and cranny as he laid his feelings bare for her. She found none, not a single speck of it in him that told her that he would ever wish that they had never happened. When he reciprocated the action, she let him search her just as vulnerably as he had been, knowing with utmost certainty that he would come to the same conclusion as her – that she felt no regret; no, never regret. No matter how short their time had been, no matter how sad their ending was always going to be, no matter how much they knew that indulging in this relationship had only intensified their love for each other and made it infinitely harder for them to move on with their lives. They had been Happy. They had laughed, argued, loved, and nothing else they had could ever amount to what they had meant for each other. It was a bittersweet love but love nonetheless. So, no, there wasn’t a smidge of regret in them that their time had come to an end like they always knew it would eventually. No, they were proud to have loved each other.
People said that time heals.
Now, as they had their foreheads planted together, surrounded by the moonlit sky and silent as the sleeping castle, Briana and Tom knew for a fact that the saying wouldn’t hold true. Not in one year, five, a decade – not even until life itself had rotted away and the cosmic universe had fallen dead. No, time could never put together the little pieces of their hearts as Briana and Tom had done for each other in the past year. Nevertheless, there was no room for regret.
One minute; the hands of the clock ticked by.
Two minutes; words escaped them like the sun from the sky every nightfall.
Three minutes; their hands grasped each other tightly to cling onto their dreams for a while longer.
A beat.
…
Briana pulled back.
Their eyes met each other one last time.
She let her tears fall.
Tom was conflicted. Her eyes told him to leave, to make things easier for her; yet the unfamiliarity of the situation – Briana crying in his presence – made it hard for him not to gather her in his arms to comfort her.
He took a step forwards; she took a step back.
She shook her head frantically, a small, broken plea leaving her lips that he had almost missed it. She wanted to shout, to scream at Tom to leave – walk away from everything that they had built and loved because she couldn’t do it; not now, not ever. She didn’t want to break down in front of him because she knew he wouldn’t leave her in this state, not when she needed him, and that would only make it harder for her to leave than it already was. She wanted to curse Fate, yell at Her for damning the one thing that made her happy after all the misfortune She had already bestowed upon her. She wanted to close the distance between Tom and her so that she could feel at home once again. She wanted to kiss Tom after a year of denying themselves. She wanted to be with Tom. She wanted Tom.
But life had never been her strongest ally.
Briana had her hands brought together in front of her lest she surrendered to her desires and reached out to Tom. Her eyes had been shut in hopes that by erasing the boy present in the room visually, it would make things easier for her – it didn’t. And so, just like the first night they had reunited all those times ago, Briana relied on her ears as Tom took his first step away from her.
One step.
Two steps-
She sobbed.
-halt.
Briana pressed her palms against her eyes desperately and another weak plea escaped her subconsciously.
A plea for what? To beg Tom to stay? To leave?
She didn’t know.
The footsteps started up again and she covered her mouth physically to prevent another sob from sounding out. The sound grew distant, further and further away, and she only dropped her hand from her lips once she couldn’t hear it anymore. Immediately, a heart-wrenching cry ripped out from deep inside her and she could do naught but clutch her chest as her legs gave out beneath her. Tears streamed down her cheeks freely and she had to gasp to breathe, hiccups cutting off her airway occasionally.
She didn’t know how long she was curled up there, on the floor of the astronomy tower, crying her heart out like she had never before. All she knew was that she had regained enough composure by the first glimpse of daylight to drag herself back to her dorm, casting the room a final look because she knew it would be the last time she would voluntarily come near the tower if it wasn’t to be with Tom. She kept herself locked behind the shut curtains of her area in her shared room for the entirety of the day – no one care at all about her to question her wellbeing – leaving only for the bathroom and to pay a visit to the kitchens during dinnertime to seek food. She slept restlessly and woke up before the sun did, taking her time to prepare for the train ride back to London later that morning. Her head was kept angled downwards and she looked at nobody, something that her parents were quick to reprimand when they caught sight of her at King’s Cross station.
Your wedding is less than three weeks away. Behave like a lady.
At the reminder of her situation, the tears threatened to fall again and she had to force herself to reel them back. It couldn’t come any faster, she bitterly thought. By the time New Year’s Eve had arrived, Briana had become empty, soulless. Her dreadful countenance reflected how she felt – dead.
She felt spiritually absent as her body moved on its own with years of etiquette training to guide it. She didn’t bother faking smiles and everyone was happy to brush it off as the effects of her curse. She tuned out the officiant as he spoke of love and promises, stayed silent when it was her turn to share her vows, bit her tongue when the rings were presented.
Finally, it was time to sign the marriage contract that would legally bind herself and Alexander Yaxley together. The groom had gone first and done it. It was now her turn to step behind the podium with the officiant beside her to witness her signature. A rumble of cries lodged itself in her throat upon seeing all her details already filled out and ready, and at seeing the details of her husband-to-be and finding none belonging to Tom. She felt the expectant eyes around her when she hesitated, her hand already gripping the quill harshly.
She took a deep breath.
She drew the first stroke of her signature.
She was almost done.
She-
-heard the footsteps echoing down the hallway.
Swiftly, her hand stopped its movement before the completion of her signature and her head snapped up to eye the doorway down the aisle. Everyone else looked to her in confusion for the briefest second before they, too, turned to regard the double doors when it had slammed open with a loud bang that elicited a few shrieks of surprise from the guests.
There, in the doorway, stood Tom Riddle.
Briana’s heart started beating harshly against her chest and the smallest, the tiniest, flame of hope flickered inside her. His name left her in a whisper and she couldn’t care less how love-stricken she must’ve looked as she took in the sight of the man she loved – not even when some people had glanced at her accusatorily, her parents and in-laws included.
Tom walked in imposingly, face set in determination and eyes locked straight onto Briana’s shaking form. He only got to cover a quarter of his way to her when Lord Yaxley stood up roughly and raised his voice at Tom. “And who are you to interrupt my son’s wedding?!”
“An invited guest, sir,” Tom quipped back without missing a beat, lifting up his hand which held the wedding invitation Briana had given him months ago.
Those who had recognised Tom, namely their schoolmates, were unashamed to mutter under their breaths as they expressed their astonishment as to why he had shown up when he had no direct relations to the bride and groom, nor power in society to be invited to the union of two members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight in the first place. Yaxley, having caught Briana’s call of Tom’s name earlier, stared down the latter man who shot back a cool glare of his own. “And who are you here as today, Riddle? A cousin from the bride’s family?” The Selwyn family bristled at the suggestion.
Briana and Tom knew what Yaxley was trying to do, to expose the presumed scandalous relationship Tom had with the bride. Whilst Briana had no idea as to what Tom was planning, she allowed herself to ease her nerves slightly when Tom glanced at her reassuringly.
“Not a cousin, no.” His lips quirked up into a saccharine smile, eyes voided of any semblance of cordiality as he spoke to the groom. “I’ve come here to object the wedding as the bride’s legal husband.”
Unquestionably, the room erupted in chaos.
The Lords and Ladies of the houses of Yaxley and Selwyn drilled Tom with an unending speech of questions filled with accusations and suspicions while the rest of the guests had started to whisper amongst themselves at the turn of events the wedding had taken. The reporters had been forgotten as the parents of the bride and groom lost their cool and they were having a field day. And Briana? She could only gape at her apparent husband cluelessly.
When Tom caught her stare, the fake, overly sweet touch to his smile softened and she could feel her heart thump stronger, her nerves still easily affected by Tom even after all those times she had spent with him. He then pulled out his wand, ignoring the gasps from his audience and the defensive stance some had taken with their wands, and conjured a scroll in the air, tied close with a red ribbon. The paper unfurled when he had spelled the ribbon away, and he levitated it towards the podium where the officiant stood with an expression just as bewildered as everyone else. “Here is Briana and I’s official marriage document. You are free to check it for any fraudulence, sir.”
“R- right…”
Taken aback, the officiant did as Tom had suggested and retrieved his own wand to cast spells upon spells on the floating scroll to investigate it for any deception. With every spell casted, the voices around grew louder and louder until finally, the room quietened when the officiant dropped his hand that held his wand and adjusted his glasses helplessly. Briana’s breath had halted at this point and she looked to the old man with anticipation thrumming in her blood.
“It is legitimate. Tom Marvolo Riddle and Briana Tristine Riddle née Selwyn have been legally married as of half past eight this morning.”
All eyes snapped to the clock in the hall.
8:37 AM.
Briana and Tom had legally wedded seven minutes ago.
…
What?
Briana looked at Tom, more astounded than ever, and the flame inside her grew and travelled to her eyes, letting the world see the first sighting of life in her that day. He returned her surprise with an affectionate smile, relaying to her words that he hadn’t uttered but she knew he would say all the while if he had been beside her.
You’re safe. I’ve got you.
“But the contract! The one from our ancestors! Your marriage is null because our contract takes precedence unless you’re one of us!” One of the Sacred Twenty-Eights, Yaxley had meant. It was a stupid and classist law, one that Briana and Tom had accounted for when they had once dreamt of running away and eloping to avoid her duty towards her family. When Tom showed no signs of faltering under Yaxley’s words, Briana quelled her worries silently.
Tom extended his hands, showcasing the unfamiliar rings on both his index fingers; green and silver on the left, and black and white on the right. “If you could be so kind to refer to tomorrow morning’s paper, you will find that I have officially inherited the titles of Lord to the House of Slytherin and Heir to the House of Gaunt. Your officiant can also refer to the paper in front of him to see that I have claimed these titles prior to my marriage to Briana.”
Upon receiving flabbergasted stares from the masses, the officiant sighed audibly and confirmed Tom’s words. “It is true.”
“Oh, Merlin- Tom.” Briana’s voice had come out breathlessly and shakily, and she was beginning to feel her lips wobble and vision blur.
“But- how- there’s no way-” Yaxley was cut off when more footsteps sounded beyond the open door and more gasps sounded when everyone caught sight of the four men in robes that were unmistakeably the aurors’ garbs. Keen eyes watched with bated breaths as the aurors marched past Tom and headed straight for the front of the room. A pair of them parted from the group once they had reached the end of the aisle and steered towards Yaxley, each grabbing hold of one of his arms and holding them behind him despite his loud, panicked protests. “What in the- what the bloody hell is going on here?!”
“Alexander Yaxley, you are under arrest for suspicion of physical violence against Lady Briana Riddle on multiple accounts.” More gasps echoed and the chatter had no hopes of dying down.
“Release him at once!” Lord Yaxley’s voice rang throughout the hall as he rushed towards the nearest auror to face him toe-to-toe. “My son has done no such deed to warrant such treatment! I say, release him!”
The auror took on the infuriated man with stoicism and shot him down easily with a levelled voice. “That, I cannot do, Lord Yaxley. We have received Lord Riddle’s reports of Heir Yaxley’s actions against Lady Riddle.”
“And what evidence have you?!”
“I’m sure Lady Riddle is more than willing to provide them.”
At that, Lord Selwyn circled to join Lord Yaxley in releasing his fury at the auror. “If you’re talking about submitting her memories to you, I absolutely forbid that!”
The auror gave the pair of fathers a dangerous look that dared them to argue any further. “I think you will find, Lord Selwyn, that as the Lady to the houses of Slytherin and Riddle, authorisation of Lady Riddle’s participation in the investigation by providing her memories falls onto the decision of Lord Riddle and not you.” Speechless, the auror’s words left Lord Selwyn stuttering and stumbling after himself.
In the middle of the havoc, was Briana. All eyes placed her in the spotlight as they anticipated her reaction to all this commotion.
She was still stood exactly where she had prior to Tom’s arrival, behind the podium with a quill still held in her hand. She looked down to the paper she had dreaded to sign to see that ink had gathered at where the quill’s tip had touched the paper and had left a huge mess on the paper and her right hand when she lifted the quill up. With trembling hands, she wiped the excess ink on the paper and dropped her hold on the writing utensil. Her eyes returned to Tom to see him staring back at her, having wrapped up his hushed conversation with the an auror while she had been fussing with herself.
The situation fully registered in her mind at that moment and she realised with a start that- it didn’t have to end. She could have Tom.
It mattered not that the circumstances were far from her ideal wedding, nor did it matter that she had ink smudged on herself and her dress haphazardly as hundreds of people who disliked her gazed up at her judgementally. How could she care for these trivialities if it meant that she could have Tom?
Briana sidestepped the podium and the hall fell silent at her sudden movement. She took a step forward, eyes still on an anxious-looking Tom who was sporting a besotted look on his face.
Another step forward. And another. More.
“Briana Tristine Selwyn, don’t you dare take another step forward!”
Her mother’s cry fell onto deaf ears and Briana ran.
She gathered her dress in her hands and cared not that her tears had begun to fall. A relieved smile was etched onto her lips, a sight new to everyone else bar Tom, and her expression was one that mirrored Tom’s unabashedly.
The tap, tap, tap of her heels against the carpet resounded throughout the hall as she flew down the aisle towards her beloved. Tom had started forwards once he had been sure that Briana was as happy to see him as he did her, and met her halfway down the aisle. To his delighted surprise, her arms reached up to wrap themselves around his neck, his arms going around her waist, and pulled his head flush against hers so that she could connect her lips onto his firmly. Their eyes having fallen shut, they had missed the first glimpse of blue light emerging from the space between their hearts, understandably much too taken with the long-awaited feel of each other’s lips, and they only parted with a gasp, eyes snapping open, when they felt the warmth engulf their chests out of nowhere. They watched in amazement as the blue light grew brighter – not blinding – until it suddenly shot out to the side, separating into two, and taking the form of winged creatures – two swans. There was no mistaking what they were:
their Patronuses.
It had been over a decade since Briana had seen her Patronus and the swan had thrown her off her loop because- her Patronus had been a dove. The wonder in her face was just as prominent in Tom’s and she was reminded of the fact that he had never been able to conjure a Patronus, ever.
The swans flew around them, flapping their wings gracefully as they took to the air while emitting a sense of joy – Briana and Tom’s – onto the surrounding people along with its blue glow. Choked up with emotions, Briana reflexively grasped Tom’s shoulders harder and caressed him in apology when she realised upon gaining his attention. “Sorry, love.”
“That’s alright, Bree.” Tom took a hand to hold her cheek gently. “You feeling alright?” It was then that she remembered that she was still crying. Distractedly, she realised that she felt better than ever, her chronic pains that had started up since her seventh birthday had faded into nothing and she felt light on her feet.
Briana gave a reassuring hum and pulled his head down to plant her forehead with his. “Very- I’m Happy.”
He wiped away her tears with his thumb. “So am I, my love.”
Then a thought struck her. “How did you get my signature anyway?”
A scheming grin plastered on his face, he leaned down and placed his lips beside her ears. “I may or may not have broken into here much earlier to peek at the drafted-up marriage contract between you and Yaxley to steal your identification number.”
“Tom!”
“And your gift for me, your forget-me-not – you had left a strong trace of your personal magic on it with the Patronus Magic that it sufficed as an authentication of your identity because it had been willingly provided by you.” Then, Tom raised an eyebrow. “You ought to be careful with your magic, love.”
“Hey!” She slapped his shoulder weakly in protest. “I gave it to you in confidence!”
He shot her a teasing smirk. “Oh? Should I not have used it to wed us, then?”
“Now, I didn’t say that.”
Tom laughed and pulled her in for another kiss, both only vaguely aware that they were still in a room full of hundreds other people – although, their Patronuses were providing fairly good entertainment. When they parted again when a giggle of mirth had bubbled up Briana’s throat, bringing about a tender smile in Tom at seeing his beloved so Happy, they brought their heads together again for comfort, never straying too far away from each other now that they could help it. A whispered confession left Briana with an affectionate sigh and Tom was quick to reciprocate it.
I love you.
Nothing else mattered.