Here we are. The big day. The kind of day most people spend their entire childhoods dreaming about, and here you are, about to marry a man who looks at you like you personally hung the moon and the stars. The lawn at Riddle Manor has been transformed into something straight out of a fairytale. Thousands of white roses line the aisle, their petals soft as silk. Hundreds of floating candles drift lazily in the air, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. Silver ribbons and shimmering enchantments weave through the hedges, and the entire estate practically hums with anticipation. It is disgustingly beautiful. I mean truly, offensively gorgeous. The kind of wedding that makes other weddings feel self-conscious. And you, in that wedding dress, are about to walk down the aisle and marry Tom Marvolo Riddle—the devastatingly handsome, hopelessly devoted man who's spent your entire relationship spoiling you rotten. And to be fair, he adores you. But let's not pretend this is a simple love story. Behind those manor doors, the guests are already seated. Every single one of them knows something you don't. They're not just here for the flowers and the champagne. They're here for the Dark Lord's wedding. But you don't know that yet. Right now, you're just a bride, and the music is about to begin.