Jumping the Broom (5/5)
Title: Jumping the Broom (5/5)
Author:
mrstater
Format & Word Count: WIP, 7758 words
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: #12: Never-Ending Road, by Loreena McKennitt (lyrics here)
Warnings: language, paganism, original character
Summary: Newly engaged to Remus, Tonks finds the path to the altar fraught with more complications than she imagined. Particularly in the way of friends and family...
Author's Notes: There are lots of variations on Handfasting ceremonies, and I've taken quite a few liberties to keep up the pace of the scene and to tailor it a bit more to my prompt lyrics (including drawing in some non-pagan elements here and there), but I was really tickled to discover how many elements of it fit perfectly within JK Rowling's Wizarding world. If you're interested in reading about Handfasting, here are a couple of links: Celtic/Neopagan Handfasting and The Pagan Custom of Handfasting. Also, just for grins, I found a nifty costuming site that inspired Remus' and Tonks' wedding clothes, if you're interested in seeing roughly what I had in mind for them: Tonks' gown; Tonks' cloak; Remus' tunic; Remus' cloak. (I am such a geek.)
Many thanks to
godricgal for beta-reading, and to all you who have followed this fic and offered such lovely words of encouragement, as well as to the
rt_challenge mods for running another great ficathon.
1. Crossing the Threshold | 2. Hearth and Home | 3. Leave Thy Father and Thy Mother | 4. Right On Cue
5. Tying the Knot
The Forbidden Forest lay all around, but the only part of it Tonks could see was the circle of hoof-beaten path lit by her wand. She was working very hard not to stumble over her skirts, but did exactly that when Alastor Moody's sudden gruff voice pierced the silence which before now had only been broken by the crunch of twigs and leaves beneath feet, the thump of his uneven wooden-legged gait, the rustling whisper of silk robes and cloaks swishing between tree trunks and over brush.
"Now let me get this straight."Mad-Eye paused, and Tonks held her breath, letting him do just that. It couldn't be a good sign that Mad-Eye was talking; he'd lectured for a full quarter of an hour before leaving her parents' house about the necessity of absolute silence and stealth as they crept through the Forbidden Forest.
Gripping her wand tighter, Tonks adjusted her gaze from simply keeping an eye on the frequently obscured path to a searching gaze that swept the forest surrounding them, ears straining for any sound not produced by herself, her parents, or Mad-Eye. The latter of whom was talking again:
"During the ceremony, you and Lupin's hands'll be tied together."
Tonks gritted her teeth for a moment before answering, fighting back a swear word at the undue caution -- and the fear he'd caused her to feel. A state of heightened paranoia was not where she wanted to be on her wedding day.
Deep breath, Tonks. Laugh it off. Remus would. Say something smart-arse.
"That's Handfasting in a nutshell, yeah."
Mad-Eye hmmphed, and Tonks knew though her back was to him that his rugged features had become yet craggier under the brim of his bowler as he frowned. As her inner voice had commanded, Tonks felt a giggle leap up in her chest in anticipation of what classic Mad-Eye observation was to follow, and she commanded her brain to pay attention and file it away to share with Remus later when they were at home and revisiting their wedding day over cake leftover from last night's party at her parents'. Her mum had told her she might find details of the day a bit hazy; but Tonks was determined not to miss a thing before, during, or after.
It's your wedding day! Soon, and very soon, you'll be Mrs. Remus Lupin!
She was so happy, Mad-Eye could tell her that in his expert Most-Famous-Auror-Of-the-Age opinion that Handfasting was a bad idea and he forbade it (which she could be reasonably sure he was going to say, in some form or fashion) and she would turn around and kiss that wizened cheek.
"So in case of an ambush," he mused, a scowl in his voice, "it'll be me, a book publisher, a housewitch, and a Centaur of questionable loyalties against possibly all the Death Eaters."
"I got an O in Defence Against the Dark Arts!" protested Andromeda at a stage whisper, and Ted piped in, "I charmed the Monster Book of Monsters, thanks very much, and I could hold my own in a duel even if I'm not Order of the Phoenix material."
"And Firenze's loyalties lie entirely with us," said Tonks, not bothering to squelch her chuckle. "S'why Remus asked him to marry us, Mad-Eye."
"But you and Lupin'll be vulnerable," Mad-Eye growled. "Do you have to be tied up? Or couldn’t you at least get tied up with your wands drawn? Though it'd be a waste of time Vanishing the bonds instead of firing off offensive spells, and you might not be able to anyway since they'll be Centaur magic. Still, you might just have a shot at getting off a good Double Shield Charm to buy yourselves some time."
Tonks wheeled round to face him, barely catching the hem of her delicate gold organza cloak before it caught on the spines of a wild holly bush just off the path. Before she could say what she intended, that she hoped he meant to give five times as much attention to the security of the Delacour-Weasley wedding which didn't have the natural security of this odd, pre-dawn ceremony on secret Centaur land, Andromeda stopped dead in her tracks, hands over her mouth to muffle a scream. Behind her, Ted didn't stop in time and barrelled into her nearly knocking her off her feet. Mad-Eye's eye whirled in the opposite direction of his body, turning all round on the path, scanning the wood for whatever foul thing Andromeda had seen.
Which happened to be Tonks' feet, beneath her hitched-up pale gold silk skirt.
"Nymphadora, you didn't wear those horrible boots with your wedding gown!"
Tonks couldn't resist tweaking her mum by modelling her red Doc Martens. "What? They're red, and so are my sleeves and the lacing on my bodice. We're all coordinated."
"Coordination's not the problem," said Andromeda. The muscles of her face, thrown into relief by the surrounding darkness and the light of Tonks' wand, twitched with a visible effort at keeping hold of her perpetual calm -- a look Tonks had seen a million times on her mum's face as well as Remus', though she'd never noted the shared trait till now. "What about those lovely little red slippers we bought? I thought you liked them."
Though Andromeda's appalled panic was hysterically funny, and Tonks ordinarily would have got a huge kick out of keeping her mum going and winding her up as tightly as possible, the first chirps of the morning bird chorus were sounded by a lark.
"Don't worry, Mum, I've got the slippers." She held up her wrist, from which dangled a little red velvet bag in which she'd packed everything for her overnight stay with her parents. "I just didn't fancy turning up for my wedding with a broken neck and for once in my life planned ahead."
"That'd be the Ravenclaw genes coming through," said Ted. "Our 'Puff can be practical."
"Think it's probably the Auror in me, Dad. Mad-Eye! If I were you, I'd be more worried about me doing myself a mischief today than Death Eaters. You lot are the only people in the world who know how and when and where we're doing this. And talking of when, we'd better get on!"
She turned around again and marched on, though not quite as Aurorly as she would've liked due to the struggle with her flowing skirts and filmy cloak that kept catching in the breeze and pulling free of the arm she'd looped it over.
Not that she really had it in her to be too irritated by her clothing. There had been so many times in the past year when she'd doubted her future held a chance for her to wear wedding robes, when Remus resisted her as stubbornly as she pursed him as the only wizard she would ever consider marrying.
Remus.
Her steps quickened on the path, as much because she was damned if she'd be late to her own wedding as because she simply wanted to see him. After the dinner party at her parents', she'd stayed the night with them whilst Remus returned to Brockenhurst. She'd barely slept for feeling their goodnight kiss at the doorstep lingering on her lips, for aching to have his body curled around hers and his warm, heavy breath ruffling the hair at her neck. True, with the late night and the even earlier morning, they'd only been apart a few hours, but the narrow bed she'd slept in as a girl felt so strange to her now, a woman about to be married. Home no longer lay on the quiet, suburban street outside London, but nestled in the New Forest.
In this forest, she stopped again as the path forked abruptly around a hundreds of years old sprawling oak.
"Do you know where you're leading us, Dora?" Ted's voice filled the moment of hesitation.
"Course I do," Tonks replied, though she still did not choose a direction. She could hear Remus' rasping tones in her memory, pointing out this landmark, but his direction from here eluded her. She was sure he'd said the left...no, the right...
Her concentration was disturbed by the flapping of robes, the shuffling of feet, and a huff of frustration. "Why can't we just Apparate instead of hiking through this beastly Forest in bloody dress robes, then?"
Tonks gritted her teeth again as she swept her wand over both paths, scanning the area for some clue. "I told you I didn't care if you came in your tatty old jeans and Hobgoblins sweatshirt so long as you came. And we can't Apparate because I've never seen the place."
"And because Lupin set anti-Apparition spells around it." Mad-Eye added, just the slightest hint of a question, of distrust, in his voice.
Tonks didn't know whether Remus actually had done -- not out of the carelessness Mad-Eye implied and expected of everyone but himself, but out of respect for the wedding site's being Centaur territory. He would never tamper...But she nodded, not in the mood for another lecture, despite the Handfasting one amusing her.
"If you've never been there," said Ted, "then how--?"
"Remus said we'd know it when we saw it."
She turned left, down the narrower, less trampled branch of the path. When she didn't immediately hear them behind her, she threw back over her shoulder.
"Come on, you lot, catch up! I won't have Remus waiting there worrying about a runaway bride!"
As it happened, they were much closer to their destination than she'd realised; a moment later the path disappeared into a clearing of long grass, in the midst of which a grove of trees grew close together in a perfect circle. In the light of her wand she made out the white birch trunks; the small, new fruits of wild apple trees; twisted hawthorns in berry; the waxen leaves of holly bushes: all varieties of trees which Tonks remembered from Ancient Runes and Herbology represented hearth and home, family and fertility.
The fabled ancient Centaur ritual grounds.
No longer merely a fable to Tonks. Nor solely belonging to Centaurs.
At the edge of the grove, cloaked in shadow except for his face illuminated by a magical flame cupped in his long fingers, stood Remus.
Waiting for her.
Exactly as he had been waiting for her at the golden gates of Hogwarts the first time she laid eyes on him.
"Nymphdaora, your shoes!"
She couldn't be sure, but Tonks thought she might have glimpsed a smile flit across Remus' features before her mum caught her elbow and dragged her away from him, to the edge of the path. Andromeda cast a non-verbal spell (her floor polishing charm?) that smoothed the trunk of a tree so that Tonks could lean against it for balance without the bark snagging her gauzy gold cloak on it, then held Tonks' skirts off the ground whilst she set to work unlacing her boots.
Tonks, of course, paid far less attention to her shoes than to Remus. Or rather: to Remus as Mad-Eye stumped up ahead of the group. The magical eye swept Remus up and down as Mad-Eye stopped in front of him, leaning against his staff and hell-bent on security.
Oh yes -- that was definitely a badly concealed smirk as Remus' asked, "What did I write to you when you were appointed to the Defence Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts?"
"Some nonsense about beware Drooble's Best Blowing Gum filling in the knots in my leg, because of some useful spell or other you taught them and to let the Longbottom kid face a Boggart if I fancied a laugh," answered Mad-Eye, scowling and waving his stick as he added, "But that's not a very secure question, Lupin, since Barty Crouch Jr. read your letters and likely as not handed 'em over to the Death Eaters."
"Forgive me. I am rather preoccupied this morning."
Mad-Eye hmphed. "Well, I made sure Ted, Andromeda, and Tonks were the real thing, and so you'll know for sure I'm me, and you don't have to bother questioning them, I'll tell you what I said when Tonks was in hospital after the Ministry battle: she's a damn fine soldier, and if you'd abandoned Harry to go protecting her, she'd kill you before the Death Eaters could, so stop beating yourself up."
As Remus tapped his wand to the enclosure of trees so that two birch trunks vanished, forming a doorway through which the glow of firelight emanated, his gaze wandered to Tonks. She was already feeling a bit uncoordinated from a swell of emotion that Mad-Eye had said what he had for her sake as much as security's; but Remus' eyes were so bright and intense on hers that she dropped the red slipper she was putting on.
Did he have any idea the effect he had on her? Did he know how much more than the gates of to the school he'd opened to her that first day they met? Of course he understood that with the closing of the case of the stolen Snidgets, which had all but guaranteed her entrance into the Auror department, they had embarked upon their romance. But in the four years since then, romance hardly began to describe their journey.
The road stretched out long and winding behind where she was stood now, putting on her shoes in the middle of the wood. Along the way Remus had opened her heart to love: love that meant not only being in love, though that certainly was part of it, but love that meant a state of being. His love had ushered her into life -- a life that was, without a doubt, far fuller and lavishly richer than the one she would have had if she'd never known him, and not just because she saw it through love-coloured spectacles.
This life augmented the one she'd always dreamed of; the Order of the Phoenix allowed her to bring justice to the world in a way that never would have been possible under the aegis of the crippled Ministry of Magic. She shuddered to think of what she might be now if she had not met Remus. Like Dawlish? A slave to an increasingly corrupt law, Confunded or worse because he had followed so blindly? Thank Merlin her life was in her own hands, and the hands of the people she loved, not the hands of department heads or bureaucrats or undersecretaries or even Ministers of Magic; thank God it was a life well worth the fight required of her to live it.
And live you jolly well have done, she thought as she stood on both shod feet again, and told her mum to go on in so that she could have a moment to herself, and then with Remus.
Though the way had not, by any means, been easy, very often uphill, or engulfed in darkness, always, always he had been with her. Remus' hand had guided her every step of the way. Even when he'd meant to let go, he had continued to lead her where she'd learnt to love patiently, long-sufferingly, faithfully, brought her a love that believed, hoped, endured.
At the end of your journey, your reward was him. Remus. Your bridegroom.
The very best part, by far, was that the end of the path meant the start of a new, better one. They would be bonded to one another, for this life and the next, and no one could rend them asunder. The open door Remus ushered her parents through now (her father giving him a wary handshake and telling him he was a damn lucky bloke; her mother kissing his cheek and telling him that he looked very handsome and as happy as his bride) was the door into their eternity.
In light of that, the bad that had come before, and the uncertainty that lay ahead, seemed insignificant.
Unless you were Mad-Eye.
The second Ted and Andromeda had gone inside, he poked his head out the doorway again, his eyes scanning the forest clearing, coming to rest briefly on Tonks, still leaning against her tree.
"May Dora and I have a minute, Mad-Eye?" Remus asked, meeting her gaze again, cheekily. She pulled a face at him and pushed off the tree, making her way slowly in her dainty slippers and flowing gown, up to the room of trees.
"Might be your wedding day, Lupin," said Mad-Eye, "but there's a war on still."
"A factor that weighed heavily in our asking you to being our distinguished guest of honour, so that you can exercise your constant vigilance for Dora."
Remus' pleasant smile would have put an end to the conversation if it had been anybody else, but as it was Mad-Eye...
"I was just trying to convince Tonks to do away with this hand-tying bit. Can't you do something more...I dunno, symbolic?"
"It is the symbol, Mad-Eye!" Tonks stepped on her hem and nearly went face-first into a patch of lichen, but managed to keep her balance as she hitched up her skirt. "Why don't you go in and exercise vigilance over the rest of the ceremony elements? There'll be a chalice and a knife and a trowel and a silver box you'll want to check aren't cursed."
That piqued Mad-Eye's interest, and he turned to go inside, grumbling about getting a move on before day broke and they were found by a herd of Centaurs who didn't like humans, as well as certain mask-wearing members of her family. Remus and Tonks exchanged their usual Mad-Eye-roll -- though it was an abbreviated version. As Remus' gaze settled on Tonks, his smirk falling into a gentle smile, it was obvious to her that the only person he was giving a thought to now was her.
The magical fire in his hand extinguished as he stepped into the warm light that spilled out the doorway in the trees. He extended his hand to her.
"There you are," he said.
"Here I am."
She placed her hand in his palm, and his fingers closed around hers, pulling her just a step toward him, so that the circle of light surrounded them both. Absurdly, a wave of shyness, of all things, swept over her.
You've never been shy around Remus -- awkward, maybe, but never shy, not for one bleeding second!
Of course, it's also never been your wedding day to Remus.
She swallowed, and pushed a curl of hair behind her ear before she remembered it didn’t belong there today, but instead was supposed to be swept up in the elaborate arrangement of curls her mum had piled up on her head and pinned within an inch of her life, even though Tonks has insisted she thought she could get the same effect by morphing. Her hands were trembling so that she didn't dare attempt to put it back in place. She'd wreck the updo.
"Wotcher."
His grin became slightly lopsided, as though with a repressed laugh. "Good morning."
"Sorry we're late. I hope you weren't worried I'd changed my mind."
"I'd never think that. Not about you."
His gaze left hers to sweep over her, and Tonks' heart fluttered wildly at the way he at once looked as if he were absolutely delighted at the sight of her, yet couldn't quite believe his eyes.
"Elphine, you're..." His husky voice hitched.
Tonks' smile widened. What adjectives would he describe her with? Elphine, you're the most beautiful witch I, or any other wizard, has ever had the fortune to behold? Elphine, you absolutely take my breath away? Elphine, you're--
"...wearing a wedding gown."
It was hardly poetry, but Tonks liked it quite a lot all the same. Rather more than any of the things her crap imagination had supplied, actually. She especially loved the way his hand slid up from her hand to finger the flimsy sheer crimson fabric of her bell sleeve before his eyes snapped up to hers, again, slightly rounded now.
"Am I dreaming?" he asked.
"No," said Tonks, giggling, and grabbing for his side, "but I'll pinch you if you'd like."
She expected Remus to catch her hand before she could do, or even to squirm away, ticklish. But he was perfectly calm today, though his eyes radiated the joy she felt pulsing through her at a frenetic tempo.
"You can do whatever you please, if you look like this doing it." He added, more softly, slipping one hand inside the fold of her cloak to settle on her waist. "You're a beautiful bride."
Smiling, she realised she had not yet given him a proper look. She saw, now, in the glow of the fire behind him, that over trim black trousers he wore a knee-length, formal tunic of black silk that hugged his slim figure deliciously, especially the crimson corded belt which picked up the same hue mingled with gold in the embroidery on his straight collar and the trim of his lightweight cloak. His silver and gold shoulder-length hair shimmered against the dark fabric.
Tonks thought she'd never seen his face look younger or more peaceful or more full of laughter and joy. He looked...at home. She wondered if the Forbidden Forest, setting for so many of his happiest boyhood memories, must have something to do with it. Gladness surged up in her that they were marrying here, that their wedding day would crown this place with more meaning than it already held for him.
"You are, too," she said, thinking maybe she owed Dolores Umbridge a wedding photo and a note of thanks for her stupid legislation, which had inspired them to find such creative, and personally significant, venues to make a life together.
Except that would be giving her credit...
"Ta," said Remus, "only...well, I'm hardly an expert in matrimonial things, but I'd thought I was called the groom?"
Realising what she'd said -- or rather, what he was making out she'd said, Tonks rolled her eyes. "No, you're called another G-word."
"A Gryffindor? You know, you might be mistaken for one, in those colours."
"I couldn't wear Hufflepuff colours, could I, as black's hardly bridey?"
For a moment, Tonks considered telling him she'd worn his colours on purpose, since she couldn't buy a white gown without looking suspicious. Again, however, shyness overcame her. Anyway, the look on his face said he was deeply touched and knew without her saying. He had wound that loose ringlet of hair around his index finger.
"Do you think you could tuck that back into one of those hair pins? There are about a million. Unless you want Mum cutting in on the Handfasting to fix my hair."
Remus chuckled, but adopted a look of intense concentration as he swept the lock of hair up and searched for a pin.
"What did she have to say about your unconventional choice of bridal hair colour?" he asked.
"Nothing, after I told her it was my great sex colour and I'm anticipating lots of it from my new husband."
A larger section of curls fell down from Tonks' coif as Remus looked down at her with mingled amusement and disbelief that she'd really said any such thing. She was about to jab a fierce index finger in his stomach and tell him that she jolly well had said just that, and that he'd have hell to pay when her mum saw what he'd done to her hair, when a cough and a thump signified Mad-Eye's reappearance in the doorway. His craggy features were deeply flushed, and thinking, Oh dear Merlin, he heard that, Tonks was forced to fling her arms around Remus' waist to keep from falling over laughing. He, of course, calmly went right on sorting her hairdo problem.
"Everything's safe," Mad-Eye said, his voice gruffer than usual. "Even that Centaur seems on the up-and-up. If we're to have this done by daybreak, you'd best get in here."
"Someone's eager to see you kiss your bride, Remus," Tonks teased, though her heart had swelled in her chest.
Mad-Eye, scowling fondly at her, was every bit as sentimental as her own dad right now. It wasn't just security he'd gone over the top with. He'd dressed to the nines for her wedding. Albeit nines that would have been slightly more fashionable when his father was a young man. He wore a set of brown velvet dress robes with yellowed lace at the collar and cuffs, and a frilled cravat pinned with a tiger's eye brooch. Even his grizzled grey hair was pulled away from his weathered face, tied back with a satin ribbon, and he'd polished his wooden leg to a high gloss. His appearance made Tonks want to laugh -- not out of amusement (well, maybe a little bit out of amusement), but for how much she loved him.
Impulsively, she released Remus, who'd finished with her hair, and pecked Mad-Eye's cheek. She thought maybe she saw his eye -- the non-magical one, of course -- mist, but she couldn't be sure because the idea of it made her own eyes well and her vision blur.
"We'll be right there," she told him, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. "We just need...one more minute."
"Aye," Mad-Eye nodded, once, and turned on his heel. A seasoned soldier. Only now it seemed, deferring to her.
Just cos it's your wedding day and he doesn't want you to see him cry. Just you wait, Tonks, next Order mission, he'll be back to criticising where you keep your wand.
"Well." Remus' husky voice drew her gaze from the doorway back to him. "This is it. Are you ready?"
As if by the flick of a wand, the air between them changed with a subtle shift in his mood. He was still happy, Tonks could see -- joyously happy, even; she could feel it pulsing warmly from him as they stood so close to one another. But it was tempered now. Solemn.
So instead of the playful, Do you even need to ask, which she would have said just a moment ago, she told him simply, "I'm so very ready to be your wife. Are you?"
The corner of his mouth twitched, and the Marauderish twinkle gleamed in his eye.
So much for solemnity.
"I swear to Merlin, Remus, if you say no, you're not ready to be my bloody wife, I'll--"
She stopped short. Remus had Conjured a bouquet of red and white roses and star-shaped stephanotises.
"I have never been readier for anything than to be your husband," he said, his fingertips brushing hers as he handed the flowers to her, and offered her his arm.
Everything within her went still and quiet then. She was in a state of such absolute calm that for just a fraction of a second she thought she had to be dreaming this.
It's your wedding day, for Merlin's sake! You're positively bubbly and bouncy at Christmas, or your bloody birthday. Shouldn't you be dancing -- very badly, mind, cos you're Nymphadora Uncoordinated Tonks -- through that door and down the aisle?
She wasn't dancing, though, nor had any inclination to do so much as skip. Impossible as it seemed that she could be this calm, she knew she was fully awake. Her senses were far too acute for it to be otherwise. The bouquet she clutched stirred her with its fresh, heady sweetness. Remus' body felt so solid and masculine as he covered her hand in the crook of his arm with his, tucking her close against his side to lead her (so confidently, which must mean he felt exactly as she did) through the doorway in the trees where they would become wizard and wife.
Inside, she blinked at the unexpected brightness of the forest room (which was a great deal larger than it had appeared from the outside, by enchantment, though she oughtn't to have been surprised, as Centaurs didn't exactly take up minimal space). The source of the light was a ring of torches that formed a second, smaller circle in the centre of the room, but still Tonks looked up to check that she and Remus hadn't lingered longer than she realised and had been too absorbed in each other to notice the sun had risen.
Though the topmost branches of the ancient, wild trees reached out across the space to each other, almost a full canopy of golden-green, there was a gap at the very top which, given the importance of heavenly bodies in Centaur lore, she suspected must have been intentionally opened. Smoke swirled upward through it from the torches below, grey and wispy against the patch of sky that was darker than midnight now that the moon had set. Her eyes, however, were drawn from the blue-black backdrop to the stars scattered across it.
Or rather, to one star: Sirius. Tonks swore that the Dog Star shone more brilliantly than usual now; it seemed entirely possible that it could do, as she considered how its namesake would be beaming if he were here, for Remus' sake, even if he never had come around about her being right for Remus. Had Remus noticed the star? If he looked up, would his thoughts be anything like hers? He must wish his boyhood mates were here today, sharing in his joy. When Tonks looked at him, though, she saw nothing of wistfulness on his face; only that same expression of grave certainty as he looked across the room at her parents, stood beyond the ring of torches.
Her dad, on the other hand, definitely looked wistful, she discovered when her gaze followed Remus'. He grinned when she met his eye, albeit a little wobbly, and she saw his broad chest rise sharply, possibly due to his breath hitching with emotion, though Tonks chose to believe it was a swell of pride at seeing what she'd grown up to be; he'd looked rather like this the day she was awarded her Auror badge, and after the ceremony he'd caught her in a bear hug and told her how proud he was of her, teasing her that he was also a little afraid of the power she now wielded. Even so, she gave him a smile which she hoped said, I know what I'm doing, Dad, so just relax, okay? You gave me the best life I could ask for, and Remus will carry on. As if he had understood her silent message, he nodded, once, and exhaled heavily.
Tonks' gaze only just touched her mum, whose pride and joy were undeniable in her shining grey eyes -- that was, until they flicked sideways to Mad-Eye. He held his wand at the ready, and his magical eye kept roving every which way, over the doorway in the trees which had closed up behind her and Remus and up at the space between the branches above, and seemed unlikely to let down his guard for as long as the ceremony should last. Tonks knew that when the time came for photographs afterward, Andromeda would be tempted to Stun the eye.
For Tonks' part, it was all she could do not to laugh or cry with another swell of affection for her mentor. Last night at dinner, he'd given her and Remus his Sneakoscope for a wedding present. In a rare intentionally comical moment, he'd said that a pair of dazed and constantly distracted newlyweds needed it more than he did.
"Who comes to this sacred ground?" A voice rang out, at once clear as a tolling bell and deep as the earth. "Who comes, and what boon do you desire here?"
As if they had been Summoned, Tonks turned at the exact moment Remus tugged against her as he stepped into the circle. They approached the altar where Firenze presided, and Tonks thought the Centaur looked like a god, his white-blond hair and palomino equine body gilt in the torchlight, as if he were the sculpted image from the Fountain of Magical Brethren come to life. Tonks had never seen more staggeringly blue eyes before; not even Remus' could compare.
Yet there was something very Remus-like in Firenze's eyes and etched on his beautiful, noble face. Palpable loneliness emanated from him as he stood alone in this place that belonged to his kind, the scars across his bare alabaster chest reminding Tonks of the bitter struggle of which everyone in this room was a part. She drew closer to Remus, remembering her own words to him about not having to face this uncertain future, this war, alone; once again she was glad, and thankful, that Remus had thought to get married in this woodland room, in this way, by Firenze with his ancient wisdom, instead of in some strange Muggle office, by an even stranger Muggle registrar, with a ceremony that meant nothing in their world.
Here they were welcomed as brethren; not just as fellow outcasts, but blood kin, because they had the "wrong" blood. Magical Beings...Magical Beasts...Magical Creatures...The Ministry and Voldemort could call them what they liked, but here they stood, what they were, without apology.
There certainly was nothing apologetic in Remus' hoarse, but firm and unwavering, voice as he answered Firenze:
"I am Remus John Lupin, and my desire is to be bonded to Nymphadora Tonks, whom I love."
"I'm Nymphadora Andromeda Tonks..."
She paused, thinking that she'd never introduced herself by her full name, never even said her Christian name unless it was to tell someone not to call her by it; a puff of breath from Remus which she knew was a snigger told her he'd had the exact thought. Normally she'd have pulled a face at him, but it didn't seem entirely appropriate at the moment, so she settled for pinching the crook of his arm with her fingers that still rested there, then went on:
"My desire is to be bonded to Remus Lupin, whom I love..."
As she said bonded, Remus' fingers curved underneath her palm that still rested in the crook of his arm.
"Do you do desire this of your own free will?" Firenze asked. "Do you come here today without coercion or pressure from other persons?"
"I do," replied Tonks without hesitation, and Remus echoed her quietly.
"Do you feel capable of fulfilling the duties to your partner which this bond shall require? If either of you feels insufficient, now is the time to declare it."
Silence, Tonks thought, had never spoken more eloquently than words.
Firenze turned from them to address her parents and Mad-Eye. "If anyone present here today knows of any reason why this wizard should not be bound in marriage to this witch, speak now, or forever hold your peace."
Tonks didn't want to look, but she couldn't not, and for one paralysing moment she saw Ted looking as uncomfortable in his dark blue dress robes as Andromeda did serene in her silvery green ones, his face etched with conflict. But when he saw Tonks' eyes on him, he gave her a smile. A resigned one, she couldn't deny, but it was enough, and when Firenze asked if those in attendance would bless and celebrate the union and support their marriage in times of trial without coming between them, it was Ted's I will that sounded first, and lingered longest in the air.
"Blessed be you who attend this glorious celebration," Firenze proclaimed, "who today shall witness a transformation."
As he turned back to Remus and Tonks, he reached for a chalice stood on the altar. He lifted it high, and his voice rose to a lilting pitch: "Blessed be this witch and this wizard, who shall be united this day, two souls joined into one in the bonds of love."
He offered Remus the cup, which was empty, but it filled with golden Elderflower wine as he said, "Drink together."
Remus did not immediately hold the cup for Tonks to drink, because his gaze was drawn by a bit of a scuffle had arisen from the wedding guests. She hadn't managed to turn in time to see Mad-Eye leap for it, but she guessed that he had by the way her dad had him by the arms from behind, holding him back.
"Don't make me throw you off me, Ted," Mad-Eye grunted, struggling against the large hands. "Think you'd want to make sure your only child won't be pois--"
The word died, unfinished, at Tonks' glare. Which was rather remarkable, given the amazing contortions she was working with her facial muscles to glare instead of laugh -- an expression, even more remarkably, mirrored on her mother's face.
But when Mad-Eye stopped struggling, looking as defeated as Tonks had ever seen him, and Ted released him, Remus let out a chuckle, and Tonks couldn't hold back any longer. She laughed so hard that she could barely swallow the wine Remus offered her; and when it was her turn to hold the cup for him, she thought for sure the fronts of one or both of their wedding clothes would be doused. Somehow -- maybe it was just the luckiest of days -- they got through the ritual without spilling, and the solemn mood had settled over them again as Firenze Vanished the chalice.
"Remus Lupin, if you will take your bride's left hand in your right; Nymphadora Tonks, if you will take your groom's left hand in your right..."
It seemed that the comic elements of their lives were determined not to let gravity temper all this day's joy. As Tonks laid her bouquet on the altar and clasped hands with Remus in the manner Firenze instructed, mischief tugged at the corner of Remus' mouth and danced wickedly in his eyes. Tonks knew that he was laughing at how today she couldn't escape the repeated use of her name.
You'll have to get back at him, Tonks. You'll have to get him good...
But she couldn't think about sweet prankster revenge; not it the middle of her wedding.
"Your hands, thus joined," said Firenze, "form the shape of Gebo, Rune of Love. Gebo symbolises the giving of a gift which must be reciprocated. No greater examples of this gift exist than the bond of marriage you offer one another today, or the children you will give each other by this marriage."
As Firenze spoke, Remus' gaze drifted down to their clasped hands, then up over her left wrist, where her sleeve had slipped up to reveal her silver Rune bracelet. He had given it to her, years ago, and it was the only jewellery she wore today, apart from her engagement ring. Gebo, with its opal nestled at the centre, had accompanied Remus' first uttering of the words I love you to her.
This is right, Tonks thought for the millionth time. So, so right that we should be married this way.
"...and so you will speak your vows," Firenze's voice pulled her back to the present, "the same words, plighting the same troth, one to another."
He Conjured two cords and laid them cross-wise over their joined hands.
"As you, Nymphadora, do give yourself to be my wife, I, Remus John Lupin, do give you my heart, and offer you my hands. I shall seek no release from our bond, nor shall I turn away from you. Wherever you go, I will go; and wherever you lodge, I will lodge; where you die, I will die, and there will I be buried. Not even death shall part you and me."
Tonks trembled as he spoke his vows; though as she pledged them back to him, she wasn't certain she didn't tremble more. It wasn't that the wedding vows were new sentiments. She had said as much each of the million times they'd argued about marriage. It was that this was it. The last time. Remus accepted them now, as he became her husband. He believed in her, believed in them...This was all she'd ever hoped for, all she'd ever dreamed of...
When the last words of the wedding vows fell from her mouth, the two cords draped over Remus' and her hands twined together, into one strong rope, and bound their hands.
"As this knot is tied," said Firenze, "so are your lives now bound. Two entwined in love, bound by commitment and fear, sadness and joy, by hardship and victory, anger and reconciliation, all of which shall strengthen this union. And though these cords shall be removed, the knot shall be set for eternity in these rings you shall wear upon your hands."
Though Tonks had not seen him Summon them, Firenze held their gold bands in his palms. After a speech about the rings' circular shape symbolising the eternal knot and the Wheel of Life (she only half-heard it, for thinking about the other night's conversation in the pub, and the ensuing one in bed in which Remus had conceded to engrave Elphine on the inside of his ring), Firenze said, "Then let the circle be cast."
He stepped around the altar, hooves gently clomping on the hard-packed ground as he plodded across to the easternmost point of the circle of torches, then, stopping, said, "Air is at the beginning of all things, the direction of East, and the dawning of a new day. May the element of Air bless your lives with continuing renewal of love."
He Conjured a white flame in his palm holding the rings, and it burned as he followed the arc to the Southern point in the circle, where he asked for the blessing of Fire's warmth, and the flame changed to red; at the West it became blue as he called on Water's vitality; and at the North, green, for Earth's solidity.
It was an ancient magic Firenze invoked, far older than wizards and witches, and it filled every inch of the room, as if it were a tangible substance with a physical form. In fact it exceeded the space, and Tonks felt her body thrum as it swept through her, settling in the greatest quantity in her hand beneath the cord. She and Remus would be bound by a magic as real, as irrefutable, as irrevocable, as that which flowed through their veins.
The chord joining their hands vanished, and they exchanged rings with simple promises to remember their vows, and then Firenze proclaimed:
"Through the powers of love between yourselves and this company, I do now pronounce Remus and Nymphadora Lupin Handfast. Blessed be your marriage!"
Nymphadora Lupin.
Handfast.
Marriage.
It was...done. They were married. She and was Remus' wife! And Remus was her husband!
And you're standing there gawping like an idiot.
A grinning idiot.
But that was okay. She wasn't the only one. Remus was stood there mirroring the wide-eyed, dazed happiness she felt stretching her face.
Happy.
Oh sweet Merlin, yes, she'd never been happier.
Which meant she really ought to do something about it. She hadn't moved a muscle, except the ones involved in the act of grinning, since she'd held Remus' left hand in both her shaking ones and slipped the golden ring onto his finger. She was still holding it.
Clutching it, in fact.
With rather white-knuckled fingers.
She dropped his hand...
...but only so she could dart up on her toes and throw her arms around his neck.
His laughter rumbled in his chest, and through her, as his arms went around her waist. Over his shoulder, she saw Mad-Eye looking at his pocket watch, catching her eye and smiling for just a split second as he glanced up to check the sky and compare it to the time. Both her parents were beaming, her mum dabbing at her eyes with a lacy hankie, her dad wiping his with the back of his hand. Tonks noticed that at their sides, almost lost in the flowing sleeves of their robes, their hands clasped tightly together.
"Do I get to kiss my wife now?" Remus asked.
The closest thing to amusement Tonks had seen on Firenze's noble face crossed it as he Summoned a knife and silver box from the altar. "One ritual remains, and that is to perform your first act together as husband and wife."
It wouldn't have mattered, Tonks supposed, if Remus had never quite managed to get that loose strand of hair back into her coif, as the custom called for each of them to cut off a lock of each other's hair. Remus looked a little nervous as he held the blade to Tonks' pink curls, but after a reminder that she could grow her hair back instantly if he made a mess of it and that he was the one that ought to be afraid of being made bald by his new bride, he snipped off a few strands. In an act of exemplary Gryffindor courage and marital trust, he handed the knife over to her -- his wife! -- and soon pink and silver hairs were mingled together in the silver box, which they knelt and buried together using a golden trowel.
"Now I may kiss my bride," said Remus as he helped her up.
"Yes, Remus Lupin," said Firenze, smiling. "Kiss her well."
Remus did exactly that, though Tonks thought it probably didn't have much to do with being told to by a Centaur. Not that she was thinking of much at all, with Remus' fingertips tracing shiver-inducing patterns on her cheeks and tangling in her curls as his lips moved softly, yet eagerly, over hers.
Your husband. Remus Lupin is kissing you, and he's your husband
When they drew back from one another, Firenze had laid a broomstick on the ground in front of them.
"Step forth," said the Centaur with a sweeping bow, "into your new life and rejoice."
Rejoicing in new life -- married life -- was another thing they didn't need to be told to do. Tonks definitely didn't; and as she looked up into Remus' broadly grinning, almost wildly happy, face, she knew he didn't, either. It was as plain as day that that his thoughts were the same place hers were: on the little cottage he'd prepared for her in the New Forest, their home that lay at the end of one path and at the start of another that had no end. Only each other...Remus and...Nymphadora...Lupin. And maybe someday one or two smaller Lupins, as well.
As they clasped hands and jumped over the broom, the sun broke over the horizon.
A new day had dawned.
The End
Author:
mrstater
Format & Word Count: WIP, 7758 words
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: #12: Never-Ending Road, by Loreena McKennitt (lyrics here)
Warnings: language, paganism, original character
Summary: Newly engaged to Remus, Tonks finds the path to the altar fraught with more complications than she imagined. Particularly in the way of friends and family...
Author's Notes: There are lots of variations on Handfasting ceremonies, and I've taken quite a few liberties to keep up the pace of the scene and to tailor it a bit more to my prompt lyrics (including drawing in some non-pagan elements here and there), but I was really tickled to discover how many elements of it fit perfectly within JK Rowling's Wizarding world. If you're interested in reading about Handfasting, here are a couple of links: Celtic/Neopagan Handfasting and The Pagan Custom of Handfasting. Also, just for grins, I found a nifty costuming site that inspired Remus' and Tonks' wedding clothes, if you're interested in seeing roughly what I had in mind for them: Tonks' gown; Tonks' cloak; Remus' tunic; Remus' cloak. (I am such a geek.)
Many thanks to
godricgal for beta-reading, and to all you who have followed this fic and offered such lovely words of encouragement, as well as to the
rt_challenge mods for running another great ficathon.
1. Crossing the Threshold | 2. Hearth and Home | 3. Leave Thy Father and Thy Mother | 4. Right On Cue
5. Tying the Knot
The Forbidden Forest lay all around, but the only part of it Tonks could see was the circle of hoof-beaten path lit by her wand. She was working very hard not to stumble over her skirts, but did exactly that when Alastor Moody's sudden gruff voice pierced the silence which before now had only been broken by the crunch of twigs and leaves beneath feet, the thump of his uneven wooden-legged gait, the rustling whisper of silk robes and cloaks swishing between tree trunks and over brush.
"Now let me get this straight."Mad-Eye paused, and Tonks held her breath, letting him do just that. It couldn't be a good sign that Mad-Eye was talking; he'd lectured for a full quarter of an hour before leaving her parents' house about the necessity of absolute silence and stealth as they crept through the Forbidden Forest.
Gripping her wand tighter, Tonks adjusted her gaze from simply keeping an eye on the frequently obscured path to a searching gaze that swept the forest surrounding them, ears straining for any sound not produced by herself, her parents, or Mad-Eye. The latter of whom was talking again:
"During the ceremony, you and Lupin's hands'll be tied together."
Tonks gritted her teeth for a moment before answering, fighting back a swear word at the undue caution -- and the fear he'd caused her to feel. A state of heightened paranoia was not where she wanted to be on her wedding day.
Deep breath, Tonks. Laugh it off. Remus would. Say something smart-arse.
"That's Handfasting in a nutshell, yeah."
Mad-Eye hmmphed, and Tonks knew though her back was to him that his rugged features had become yet craggier under the brim of his bowler as he frowned. As her inner voice had commanded, Tonks felt a giggle leap up in her chest in anticipation of what classic Mad-Eye observation was to follow, and she commanded her brain to pay attention and file it away to share with Remus later when they were at home and revisiting their wedding day over cake leftover from last night's party at her parents'. Her mum had told her she might find details of the day a bit hazy; but Tonks was determined not to miss a thing before, during, or after.
It's your wedding day! Soon, and very soon, you'll be Mrs. Remus Lupin!
She was so happy, Mad-Eye could tell her that in his expert Most-Famous-Auror-Of-the-Age opinion that Handfasting was a bad idea and he forbade it (which she could be reasonably sure he was going to say, in some form or fashion) and she would turn around and kiss that wizened cheek.
"So in case of an ambush," he mused, a scowl in his voice, "it'll be me, a book publisher, a housewitch, and a Centaur of questionable loyalties against possibly all the Death Eaters."
"I got an O in Defence Against the Dark Arts!" protested Andromeda at a stage whisper, and Ted piped in, "I charmed the Monster Book of Monsters, thanks very much, and I could hold my own in a duel even if I'm not Order of the Phoenix material."
"And Firenze's loyalties lie entirely with us," said Tonks, not bothering to squelch her chuckle. "S'why Remus asked him to marry us, Mad-Eye."
"But you and Lupin'll be vulnerable," Mad-Eye growled. "Do you have to be tied up? Or couldn’t you at least get tied up with your wands drawn? Though it'd be a waste of time Vanishing the bonds instead of firing off offensive spells, and you might not be able to anyway since they'll be Centaur magic. Still, you might just have a shot at getting off a good Double Shield Charm to buy yourselves some time."
Tonks wheeled round to face him, barely catching the hem of her delicate gold organza cloak before it caught on the spines of a wild holly bush just off the path. Before she could say what she intended, that she hoped he meant to give five times as much attention to the security of the Delacour-Weasley wedding which didn't have the natural security of this odd, pre-dawn ceremony on secret Centaur land, Andromeda stopped dead in her tracks, hands over her mouth to muffle a scream. Behind her, Ted didn't stop in time and barrelled into her nearly knocking her off her feet. Mad-Eye's eye whirled in the opposite direction of his body, turning all round on the path, scanning the wood for whatever foul thing Andromeda had seen.
Which happened to be Tonks' feet, beneath her hitched-up pale gold silk skirt.
"Nymphadora, you didn't wear those horrible boots with your wedding gown!"
Tonks couldn't resist tweaking her mum by modelling her red Doc Martens. "What? They're red, and so are my sleeves and the lacing on my bodice. We're all coordinated."
"Coordination's not the problem," said Andromeda. The muscles of her face, thrown into relief by the surrounding darkness and the light of Tonks' wand, twitched with a visible effort at keeping hold of her perpetual calm -- a look Tonks had seen a million times on her mum's face as well as Remus', though she'd never noted the shared trait till now. "What about those lovely little red slippers we bought? I thought you liked them."
Though Andromeda's appalled panic was hysterically funny, and Tonks ordinarily would have got a huge kick out of keeping her mum going and winding her up as tightly as possible, the first chirps of the morning bird chorus were sounded by a lark.
"Don't worry, Mum, I've got the slippers." She held up her wrist, from which dangled a little red velvet bag in which she'd packed everything for her overnight stay with her parents. "I just didn't fancy turning up for my wedding with a broken neck and for once in my life planned ahead."
"That'd be the Ravenclaw genes coming through," said Ted. "Our 'Puff can be practical."
"Think it's probably the Auror in me, Dad. Mad-Eye! If I were you, I'd be more worried about me doing myself a mischief today than Death Eaters. You lot are the only people in the world who know how and when and where we're doing this. And talking of when, we'd better get on!"
She turned around again and marched on, though not quite as Aurorly as she would've liked due to the struggle with her flowing skirts and filmy cloak that kept catching in the breeze and pulling free of the arm she'd looped it over.
Not that she really had it in her to be too irritated by her clothing. There had been so many times in the past year when she'd doubted her future held a chance for her to wear wedding robes, when Remus resisted her as stubbornly as she pursed him as the only wizard she would ever consider marrying.
Remus.
Her steps quickened on the path, as much because she was damned if she'd be late to her own wedding as because she simply wanted to see him. After the dinner party at her parents', she'd stayed the night with them whilst Remus returned to Brockenhurst. She'd barely slept for feeling their goodnight kiss at the doorstep lingering on her lips, for aching to have his body curled around hers and his warm, heavy breath ruffling the hair at her neck. True, with the late night and the even earlier morning, they'd only been apart a few hours, but the narrow bed she'd slept in as a girl felt so strange to her now, a woman about to be married. Home no longer lay on the quiet, suburban street outside London, but nestled in the New Forest.
In this forest, she stopped again as the path forked abruptly around a hundreds of years old sprawling oak.
"Do you know where you're leading us, Dora?" Ted's voice filled the moment of hesitation.
"Course I do," Tonks replied, though she still did not choose a direction. She could hear Remus' rasping tones in her memory, pointing out this landmark, but his direction from here eluded her. She was sure he'd said the left...no, the right...
Her concentration was disturbed by the flapping of robes, the shuffling of feet, and a huff of frustration. "Why can't we just Apparate instead of hiking through this beastly Forest in bloody dress robes, then?"
Tonks gritted her teeth again as she swept her wand over both paths, scanning the area for some clue. "I told you I didn't care if you came in your tatty old jeans and Hobgoblins sweatshirt so long as you came. And we can't Apparate because I've never seen the place."
"And because Lupin set anti-Apparition spells around it." Mad-Eye added, just the slightest hint of a question, of distrust, in his voice.
Tonks didn't know whether Remus actually had done -- not out of the carelessness Mad-Eye implied and expected of everyone but himself, but out of respect for the wedding site's being Centaur territory. He would never tamper...But she nodded, not in the mood for another lecture, despite the Handfasting one amusing her.
"If you've never been there," said Ted, "then how--?"
"Remus said we'd know it when we saw it."
She turned left, down the narrower, less trampled branch of the path. When she didn't immediately hear them behind her, she threw back over her shoulder.
"Come on, you lot, catch up! I won't have Remus waiting there worrying about a runaway bride!"
As it happened, they were much closer to their destination than she'd realised; a moment later the path disappeared into a clearing of long grass, in the midst of which a grove of trees grew close together in a perfect circle. In the light of her wand she made out the white birch trunks; the small, new fruits of wild apple trees; twisted hawthorns in berry; the waxen leaves of holly bushes: all varieties of trees which Tonks remembered from Ancient Runes and Herbology represented hearth and home, family and fertility.
The fabled ancient Centaur ritual grounds.
No longer merely a fable to Tonks. Nor solely belonging to Centaurs.
At the edge of the grove, cloaked in shadow except for his face illuminated by a magical flame cupped in his long fingers, stood Remus.
Waiting for her.
Exactly as he had been waiting for her at the golden gates of Hogwarts the first time she laid eyes on him.
"Nymphdaora, your shoes!"
She couldn't be sure, but Tonks thought she might have glimpsed a smile flit across Remus' features before her mum caught her elbow and dragged her away from him, to the edge of the path. Andromeda cast a non-verbal spell (her floor polishing charm?) that smoothed the trunk of a tree so that Tonks could lean against it for balance without the bark snagging her gauzy gold cloak on it, then held Tonks' skirts off the ground whilst she set to work unlacing her boots.
Tonks, of course, paid far less attention to her shoes than to Remus. Or rather: to Remus as Mad-Eye stumped up ahead of the group. The magical eye swept Remus up and down as Mad-Eye stopped in front of him, leaning against his staff and hell-bent on security.
Oh yes -- that was definitely a badly concealed smirk as Remus' asked, "What did I write to you when you were appointed to the Defence Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts?"
"Some nonsense about beware Drooble's Best Blowing Gum filling in the knots in my leg, because of some useful spell or other you taught them and to let the Longbottom kid face a Boggart if I fancied a laugh," answered Mad-Eye, scowling and waving his stick as he added, "But that's not a very secure question, Lupin, since Barty Crouch Jr. read your letters and likely as not handed 'em over to the Death Eaters."
"Forgive me. I am rather preoccupied this morning."
Mad-Eye hmphed. "Well, I made sure Ted, Andromeda, and Tonks were the real thing, and so you'll know for sure I'm me, and you don't have to bother questioning them, I'll tell you what I said when Tonks was in hospital after the Ministry battle: she's a damn fine soldier, and if you'd abandoned Harry to go protecting her, she'd kill you before the Death Eaters could, so stop beating yourself up."
As Remus tapped his wand to the enclosure of trees so that two birch trunks vanished, forming a doorway through which the glow of firelight emanated, his gaze wandered to Tonks. She was already feeling a bit uncoordinated from a swell of emotion that Mad-Eye had said what he had for her sake as much as security's; but Remus' eyes were so bright and intense on hers that she dropped the red slipper she was putting on.
Did he have any idea the effect he had on her? Did he know how much more than the gates of to the school he'd opened to her that first day they met? Of course he understood that with the closing of the case of the stolen Snidgets, which had all but guaranteed her entrance into the Auror department, they had embarked upon their romance. But in the four years since then, romance hardly began to describe their journey.
The road stretched out long and winding behind where she was stood now, putting on her shoes in the middle of the wood. Along the way Remus had opened her heart to love: love that meant not only being in love, though that certainly was part of it, but love that meant a state of being. His love had ushered her into life -- a life that was, without a doubt, far fuller and lavishly richer than the one she would have had if she'd never known him, and not just because she saw it through love-coloured spectacles.
This life augmented the one she'd always dreamed of; the Order of the Phoenix allowed her to bring justice to the world in a way that never would have been possible under the aegis of the crippled Ministry of Magic. She shuddered to think of what she might be now if she had not met Remus. Like Dawlish? A slave to an increasingly corrupt law, Confunded or worse because he had followed so blindly? Thank Merlin her life was in her own hands, and the hands of the people she loved, not the hands of department heads or bureaucrats or undersecretaries or even Ministers of Magic; thank God it was a life well worth the fight required of her to live it.
And live you jolly well have done, she thought as she stood on both shod feet again, and told her mum to go on in so that she could have a moment to herself, and then with Remus.
Though the way had not, by any means, been easy, very often uphill, or engulfed in darkness, always, always he had been with her. Remus' hand had guided her every step of the way. Even when he'd meant to let go, he had continued to lead her where she'd learnt to love patiently, long-sufferingly, faithfully, brought her a love that believed, hoped, endured.
At the end of your journey, your reward was him. Remus. Your bridegroom.
The very best part, by far, was that the end of the path meant the start of a new, better one. They would be bonded to one another, for this life and the next, and no one could rend them asunder. The open door Remus ushered her parents through now (her father giving him a wary handshake and telling him he was a damn lucky bloke; her mother kissing his cheek and telling him that he looked very handsome and as happy as his bride) was the door into their eternity.
In light of that, the bad that had come before, and the uncertainty that lay ahead, seemed insignificant.
Unless you were Mad-Eye.
The second Ted and Andromeda had gone inside, he poked his head out the doorway again, his eyes scanning the forest clearing, coming to rest briefly on Tonks, still leaning against her tree.
"May Dora and I have a minute, Mad-Eye?" Remus asked, meeting her gaze again, cheekily. She pulled a face at him and pushed off the tree, making her way slowly in her dainty slippers and flowing gown, up to the room of trees.
"Might be your wedding day, Lupin," said Mad-Eye, "but there's a war on still."
"A factor that weighed heavily in our asking you to being our distinguished guest of honour, so that you can exercise your constant vigilance for Dora."
Remus' pleasant smile would have put an end to the conversation if it had been anybody else, but as it was Mad-Eye...
"I was just trying to convince Tonks to do away with this hand-tying bit. Can't you do something more...I dunno, symbolic?"
"It is the symbol, Mad-Eye!" Tonks stepped on her hem and nearly went face-first into a patch of lichen, but managed to keep her balance as she hitched up her skirt. "Why don't you go in and exercise vigilance over the rest of the ceremony elements? There'll be a chalice and a knife and a trowel and a silver box you'll want to check aren't cursed."
That piqued Mad-Eye's interest, and he turned to go inside, grumbling about getting a move on before day broke and they were found by a herd of Centaurs who didn't like humans, as well as certain mask-wearing members of her family. Remus and Tonks exchanged their usual Mad-Eye-roll -- though it was an abbreviated version. As Remus' gaze settled on Tonks, his smirk falling into a gentle smile, it was obvious to her that the only person he was giving a thought to now was her.
The magical fire in his hand extinguished as he stepped into the warm light that spilled out the doorway in the trees. He extended his hand to her.
"There you are," he said.
"Here I am."
She placed her hand in his palm, and his fingers closed around hers, pulling her just a step toward him, so that the circle of light surrounded them both. Absurdly, a wave of shyness, of all things, swept over her.
You've never been shy around Remus -- awkward, maybe, but never shy, not for one bleeding second!
Of course, it's also never been your wedding day to Remus.
She swallowed, and pushed a curl of hair behind her ear before she remembered it didn’t belong there today, but instead was supposed to be swept up in the elaborate arrangement of curls her mum had piled up on her head and pinned within an inch of her life, even though Tonks has insisted she thought she could get the same effect by morphing. Her hands were trembling so that she didn't dare attempt to put it back in place. She'd wreck the updo.
"Wotcher."
His grin became slightly lopsided, as though with a repressed laugh. "Good morning."
"Sorry we're late. I hope you weren't worried I'd changed my mind."
"I'd never think that. Not about you."
His gaze left hers to sweep over her, and Tonks' heart fluttered wildly at the way he at once looked as if he were absolutely delighted at the sight of her, yet couldn't quite believe his eyes.
"Elphine, you're..." His husky voice hitched.
Tonks' smile widened. What adjectives would he describe her with? Elphine, you're the most beautiful witch I, or any other wizard, has ever had the fortune to behold? Elphine, you absolutely take my breath away? Elphine, you're--
"...wearing a wedding gown."
It was hardly poetry, but Tonks liked it quite a lot all the same. Rather more than any of the things her crap imagination had supplied, actually. She especially loved the way his hand slid up from her hand to finger the flimsy sheer crimson fabric of her bell sleeve before his eyes snapped up to hers, again, slightly rounded now.
"Am I dreaming?" he asked.
"No," said Tonks, giggling, and grabbing for his side, "but I'll pinch you if you'd like."
She expected Remus to catch her hand before she could do, or even to squirm away, ticklish. But he was perfectly calm today, though his eyes radiated the joy she felt pulsing through her at a frenetic tempo.
"You can do whatever you please, if you look like this doing it." He added, more softly, slipping one hand inside the fold of her cloak to settle on her waist. "You're a beautiful bride."
Smiling, she realised she had not yet given him a proper look. She saw, now, in the glow of the fire behind him, that over trim black trousers he wore a knee-length, formal tunic of black silk that hugged his slim figure deliciously, especially the crimson corded belt which picked up the same hue mingled with gold in the embroidery on his straight collar and the trim of his lightweight cloak. His silver and gold shoulder-length hair shimmered against the dark fabric.
Tonks thought she'd never seen his face look younger or more peaceful or more full of laughter and joy. He looked...at home. She wondered if the Forbidden Forest, setting for so many of his happiest boyhood memories, must have something to do with it. Gladness surged up in her that they were marrying here, that their wedding day would crown this place with more meaning than it already held for him.
"You are, too," she said, thinking maybe she owed Dolores Umbridge a wedding photo and a note of thanks for her stupid legislation, which had inspired them to find such creative, and personally significant, venues to make a life together.
Except that would be giving her credit...
"Ta," said Remus, "only...well, I'm hardly an expert in matrimonial things, but I'd thought I was called the groom?"
Realising what she'd said -- or rather, what he was making out she'd said, Tonks rolled her eyes. "No, you're called another G-word."
"A Gryffindor? You know, you might be mistaken for one, in those colours."
"I couldn't wear Hufflepuff colours, could I, as black's hardly bridey?"
For a moment, Tonks considered telling him she'd worn his colours on purpose, since she couldn't buy a white gown without looking suspicious. Again, however, shyness overcame her. Anyway, the look on his face said he was deeply touched and knew without her saying. He had wound that loose ringlet of hair around his index finger.
"Do you think you could tuck that back into one of those hair pins? There are about a million. Unless you want Mum cutting in on the Handfasting to fix my hair."
Remus chuckled, but adopted a look of intense concentration as he swept the lock of hair up and searched for a pin.
"What did she have to say about your unconventional choice of bridal hair colour?" he asked.
"Nothing, after I told her it was my great sex colour and I'm anticipating lots of it from my new husband."
A larger section of curls fell down from Tonks' coif as Remus looked down at her with mingled amusement and disbelief that she'd really said any such thing. She was about to jab a fierce index finger in his stomach and tell him that she jolly well had said just that, and that he'd have hell to pay when her mum saw what he'd done to her hair, when a cough and a thump signified Mad-Eye's reappearance in the doorway. His craggy features were deeply flushed, and thinking, Oh dear Merlin, he heard that, Tonks was forced to fling her arms around Remus' waist to keep from falling over laughing. He, of course, calmly went right on sorting her hairdo problem.
"Everything's safe," Mad-Eye said, his voice gruffer than usual. "Even that Centaur seems on the up-and-up. If we're to have this done by daybreak, you'd best get in here."
"Someone's eager to see you kiss your bride, Remus," Tonks teased, though her heart had swelled in her chest.
Mad-Eye, scowling fondly at her, was every bit as sentimental as her own dad right now. It wasn't just security he'd gone over the top with. He'd dressed to the nines for her wedding. Albeit nines that would have been slightly more fashionable when his father was a young man. He wore a set of brown velvet dress robes with yellowed lace at the collar and cuffs, and a frilled cravat pinned with a tiger's eye brooch. Even his grizzled grey hair was pulled away from his weathered face, tied back with a satin ribbon, and he'd polished his wooden leg to a high gloss. His appearance made Tonks want to laugh -- not out of amusement (well, maybe a little bit out of amusement), but for how much she loved him.
Impulsively, she released Remus, who'd finished with her hair, and pecked Mad-Eye's cheek. She thought maybe she saw his eye -- the non-magical one, of course -- mist, but she couldn't be sure because the idea of it made her own eyes well and her vision blur.
"We'll be right there," she told him, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. "We just need...one more minute."
"Aye," Mad-Eye nodded, once, and turned on his heel. A seasoned soldier. Only now it seemed, deferring to her.
Just cos it's your wedding day and he doesn't want you to see him cry. Just you wait, Tonks, next Order mission, he'll be back to criticising where you keep your wand.
"Well." Remus' husky voice drew her gaze from the doorway back to him. "This is it. Are you ready?"
As if by the flick of a wand, the air between them changed with a subtle shift in his mood. He was still happy, Tonks could see -- joyously happy, even; she could feel it pulsing warmly from him as they stood so close to one another. But it was tempered now. Solemn.
So instead of the playful, Do you even need to ask, which she would have said just a moment ago, she told him simply, "I'm so very ready to be your wife. Are you?"
The corner of his mouth twitched, and the Marauderish twinkle gleamed in his eye.
So much for solemnity.
"I swear to Merlin, Remus, if you say no, you're not ready to be my bloody wife, I'll--"
She stopped short. Remus had Conjured a bouquet of red and white roses and star-shaped stephanotises.
"I have never been readier for anything than to be your husband," he said, his fingertips brushing hers as he handed the flowers to her, and offered her his arm.
Everything within her went still and quiet then. She was in a state of such absolute calm that for just a fraction of a second she thought she had to be dreaming this.
It's your wedding day, for Merlin's sake! You're positively bubbly and bouncy at Christmas, or your bloody birthday. Shouldn't you be dancing -- very badly, mind, cos you're Nymphadora Uncoordinated Tonks -- through that door and down the aisle?
She wasn't dancing, though, nor had any inclination to do so much as skip. Impossible as it seemed that she could be this calm, she knew she was fully awake. Her senses were far too acute for it to be otherwise. The bouquet she clutched stirred her with its fresh, heady sweetness. Remus' body felt so solid and masculine as he covered her hand in the crook of his arm with his, tucking her close against his side to lead her (so confidently, which must mean he felt exactly as she did) through the doorway in the trees where they would become wizard and wife.
Inside, she blinked at the unexpected brightness of the forest room (which was a great deal larger than it had appeared from the outside, by enchantment, though she oughtn't to have been surprised, as Centaurs didn't exactly take up minimal space). The source of the light was a ring of torches that formed a second, smaller circle in the centre of the room, but still Tonks looked up to check that she and Remus hadn't lingered longer than she realised and had been too absorbed in each other to notice the sun had risen.
Though the topmost branches of the ancient, wild trees reached out across the space to each other, almost a full canopy of golden-green, there was a gap at the very top which, given the importance of heavenly bodies in Centaur lore, she suspected must have been intentionally opened. Smoke swirled upward through it from the torches below, grey and wispy against the patch of sky that was darker than midnight now that the moon had set. Her eyes, however, were drawn from the blue-black backdrop to the stars scattered across it.
Or rather, to one star: Sirius. Tonks swore that the Dog Star shone more brilliantly than usual now; it seemed entirely possible that it could do, as she considered how its namesake would be beaming if he were here, for Remus' sake, even if he never had come around about her being right for Remus. Had Remus noticed the star? If he looked up, would his thoughts be anything like hers? He must wish his boyhood mates were here today, sharing in his joy. When Tonks looked at him, though, she saw nothing of wistfulness on his face; only that same expression of grave certainty as he looked across the room at her parents, stood beyond the ring of torches.
Her dad, on the other hand, definitely looked wistful, she discovered when her gaze followed Remus'. He grinned when she met his eye, albeit a little wobbly, and she saw his broad chest rise sharply, possibly due to his breath hitching with emotion, though Tonks chose to believe it was a swell of pride at seeing what she'd grown up to be; he'd looked rather like this the day she was awarded her Auror badge, and after the ceremony he'd caught her in a bear hug and told her how proud he was of her, teasing her that he was also a little afraid of the power she now wielded. Even so, she gave him a smile which she hoped said, I know what I'm doing, Dad, so just relax, okay? You gave me the best life I could ask for, and Remus will carry on. As if he had understood her silent message, he nodded, once, and exhaled heavily.
Tonks' gaze only just touched her mum, whose pride and joy were undeniable in her shining grey eyes -- that was, until they flicked sideways to Mad-Eye. He held his wand at the ready, and his magical eye kept roving every which way, over the doorway in the trees which had closed up behind her and Remus and up at the space between the branches above, and seemed unlikely to let down his guard for as long as the ceremony should last. Tonks knew that when the time came for photographs afterward, Andromeda would be tempted to Stun the eye.
For Tonks' part, it was all she could do not to laugh or cry with another swell of affection for her mentor. Last night at dinner, he'd given her and Remus his Sneakoscope for a wedding present. In a rare intentionally comical moment, he'd said that a pair of dazed and constantly distracted newlyweds needed it more than he did.
"Who comes to this sacred ground?" A voice rang out, at once clear as a tolling bell and deep as the earth. "Who comes, and what boon do you desire here?"
As if they had been Summoned, Tonks turned at the exact moment Remus tugged against her as he stepped into the circle. They approached the altar where Firenze presided, and Tonks thought the Centaur looked like a god, his white-blond hair and palomino equine body gilt in the torchlight, as if he were the sculpted image from the Fountain of Magical Brethren come to life. Tonks had never seen more staggeringly blue eyes before; not even Remus' could compare.
Yet there was something very Remus-like in Firenze's eyes and etched on his beautiful, noble face. Palpable loneliness emanated from him as he stood alone in this place that belonged to his kind, the scars across his bare alabaster chest reminding Tonks of the bitter struggle of which everyone in this room was a part. She drew closer to Remus, remembering her own words to him about not having to face this uncertain future, this war, alone; once again she was glad, and thankful, that Remus had thought to get married in this woodland room, in this way, by Firenze with his ancient wisdom, instead of in some strange Muggle office, by an even stranger Muggle registrar, with a ceremony that meant nothing in their world.
Here they were welcomed as brethren; not just as fellow outcasts, but blood kin, because they had the "wrong" blood. Magical Beings...Magical Beasts...Magical Creatures...The Ministry and Voldemort could call them what they liked, but here they stood, what they were, without apology.
There certainly was nothing apologetic in Remus' hoarse, but firm and unwavering, voice as he answered Firenze:
"I am Remus John Lupin, and my desire is to be bonded to Nymphadora Tonks, whom I love."
"I'm Nymphadora Andromeda Tonks..."
She paused, thinking that she'd never introduced herself by her full name, never even said her Christian name unless it was to tell someone not to call her by it; a puff of breath from Remus which she knew was a snigger told her he'd had the exact thought. Normally she'd have pulled a face at him, but it didn't seem entirely appropriate at the moment, so she settled for pinching the crook of his arm with her fingers that still rested there, then went on:
"My desire is to be bonded to Remus Lupin, whom I love..."
As she said bonded, Remus' fingers curved underneath her palm that still rested in the crook of his arm.
"Do you do desire this of your own free will?" Firenze asked. "Do you come here today without coercion or pressure from other persons?"
"I do," replied Tonks without hesitation, and Remus echoed her quietly.
"Do you feel capable of fulfilling the duties to your partner which this bond shall require? If either of you feels insufficient, now is the time to declare it."
Silence, Tonks thought, had never spoken more eloquently than words.
Firenze turned from them to address her parents and Mad-Eye. "If anyone present here today knows of any reason why this wizard should not be bound in marriage to this witch, speak now, or forever hold your peace."
Tonks didn't want to look, but she couldn't not, and for one paralysing moment she saw Ted looking as uncomfortable in his dark blue dress robes as Andromeda did serene in her silvery green ones, his face etched with conflict. But when he saw Tonks' eyes on him, he gave her a smile. A resigned one, she couldn't deny, but it was enough, and when Firenze asked if those in attendance would bless and celebrate the union and support their marriage in times of trial without coming between them, it was Ted's I will that sounded first, and lingered longest in the air.
"Blessed be you who attend this glorious celebration," Firenze proclaimed, "who today shall witness a transformation."
As he turned back to Remus and Tonks, he reached for a chalice stood on the altar. He lifted it high, and his voice rose to a lilting pitch: "Blessed be this witch and this wizard, who shall be united this day, two souls joined into one in the bonds of love."
He offered Remus the cup, which was empty, but it filled with golden Elderflower wine as he said, "Drink together."
Remus did not immediately hold the cup for Tonks to drink, because his gaze was drawn by a bit of a scuffle had arisen from the wedding guests. She hadn't managed to turn in time to see Mad-Eye leap for it, but she guessed that he had by the way her dad had him by the arms from behind, holding him back.
"Don't make me throw you off me, Ted," Mad-Eye grunted, struggling against the large hands. "Think you'd want to make sure your only child won't be pois--"
The word died, unfinished, at Tonks' glare. Which was rather remarkable, given the amazing contortions she was working with her facial muscles to glare instead of laugh -- an expression, even more remarkably, mirrored on her mother's face.
But when Mad-Eye stopped struggling, looking as defeated as Tonks had ever seen him, and Ted released him, Remus let out a chuckle, and Tonks couldn't hold back any longer. She laughed so hard that she could barely swallow the wine Remus offered her; and when it was her turn to hold the cup for him, she thought for sure the fronts of one or both of their wedding clothes would be doused. Somehow -- maybe it was just the luckiest of days -- they got through the ritual without spilling, and the solemn mood had settled over them again as Firenze Vanished the chalice.
"Remus Lupin, if you will take your bride's left hand in your right; Nymphadora Tonks, if you will take your groom's left hand in your right..."
It seemed that the comic elements of their lives were determined not to let gravity temper all this day's joy. As Tonks laid her bouquet on the altar and clasped hands with Remus in the manner Firenze instructed, mischief tugged at the corner of Remus' mouth and danced wickedly in his eyes. Tonks knew that he was laughing at how today she couldn't escape the repeated use of her name.
You'll have to get back at him, Tonks. You'll have to get him good...
But she couldn't think about sweet prankster revenge; not it the middle of her wedding.
"Your hands, thus joined," said Firenze, "form the shape of Gebo, Rune of Love. Gebo symbolises the giving of a gift which must be reciprocated. No greater examples of this gift exist than the bond of marriage you offer one another today, or the children you will give each other by this marriage."
As Firenze spoke, Remus' gaze drifted down to their clasped hands, then up over her left wrist, where her sleeve had slipped up to reveal her silver Rune bracelet. He had given it to her, years ago, and it was the only jewellery she wore today, apart from her engagement ring. Gebo, with its opal nestled at the centre, had accompanied Remus' first uttering of the words I love you to her.
This is right, Tonks thought for the millionth time. So, so right that we should be married this way.
"...and so you will speak your vows," Firenze's voice pulled her back to the present, "the same words, plighting the same troth, one to another."
He Conjured two cords and laid them cross-wise over their joined hands.
"As you, Nymphadora, do give yourself to be my wife, I, Remus John Lupin, do give you my heart, and offer you my hands. I shall seek no release from our bond, nor shall I turn away from you. Wherever you go, I will go; and wherever you lodge, I will lodge; where you die, I will die, and there will I be buried. Not even death shall part you and me."
Tonks trembled as he spoke his vows; though as she pledged them back to him, she wasn't certain she didn't tremble more. It wasn't that the wedding vows were new sentiments. She had said as much each of the million times they'd argued about marriage. It was that this was it. The last time. Remus accepted them now, as he became her husband. He believed in her, believed in them...This was all she'd ever hoped for, all she'd ever dreamed of...
When the last words of the wedding vows fell from her mouth, the two cords draped over Remus' and her hands twined together, into one strong rope, and bound their hands.
"As this knot is tied," said Firenze, "so are your lives now bound. Two entwined in love, bound by commitment and fear, sadness and joy, by hardship and victory, anger and reconciliation, all of which shall strengthen this union. And though these cords shall be removed, the knot shall be set for eternity in these rings you shall wear upon your hands."
Though Tonks had not seen him Summon them, Firenze held their gold bands in his palms. After a speech about the rings' circular shape symbolising the eternal knot and the Wheel of Life (she only half-heard it, for thinking about the other night's conversation in the pub, and the ensuing one in bed in which Remus had conceded to engrave Elphine on the inside of his ring), Firenze said, "Then let the circle be cast."
He stepped around the altar, hooves gently clomping on the hard-packed ground as he plodded across to the easternmost point of the circle of torches, then, stopping, said, "Air is at the beginning of all things, the direction of East, and the dawning of a new day. May the element of Air bless your lives with continuing renewal of love."
He Conjured a white flame in his palm holding the rings, and it burned as he followed the arc to the Southern point in the circle, where he asked for the blessing of Fire's warmth, and the flame changed to red; at the West it became blue as he called on Water's vitality; and at the North, green, for Earth's solidity.
It was an ancient magic Firenze invoked, far older than wizards and witches, and it filled every inch of the room, as if it were a tangible substance with a physical form. In fact it exceeded the space, and Tonks felt her body thrum as it swept through her, settling in the greatest quantity in her hand beneath the cord. She and Remus would be bound by a magic as real, as irrefutable, as irrevocable, as that which flowed through their veins.
The chord joining their hands vanished, and they exchanged rings with simple promises to remember their vows, and then Firenze proclaimed:
"Through the powers of love between yourselves and this company, I do now pronounce Remus and Nymphadora Lupin Handfast. Blessed be your marriage!"
Nymphadora Lupin.
Handfast.
Marriage.
It was...done. They were married. She and was Remus' wife! And Remus was her husband!
And you're standing there gawping like an idiot.
A grinning idiot.
But that was okay. She wasn't the only one. Remus was stood there mirroring the wide-eyed, dazed happiness she felt stretching her face.
Happy.
Oh sweet Merlin, yes, she'd never been happier.
Which meant she really ought to do something about it. She hadn't moved a muscle, except the ones involved in the act of grinning, since she'd held Remus' left hand in both her shaking ones and slipped the golden ring onto his finger. She was still holding it.
Clutching it, in fact.
With rather white-knuckled fingers.
She dropped his hand...
...but only so she could dart up on her toes and throw her arms around his neck.
His laughter rumbled in his chest, and through her, as his arms went around her waist. Over his shoulder, she saw Mad-Eye looking at his pocket watch, catching her eye and smiling for just a split second as he glanced up to check the sky and compare it to the time. Both her parents were beaming, her mum dabbing at her eyes with a lacy hankie, her dad wiping his with the back of his hand. Tonks noticed that at their sides, almost lost in the flowing sleeves of their robes, their hands clasped tightly together.
"Do I get to kiss my wife now?" Remus asked.
The closest thing to amusement Tonks had seen on Firenze's noble face crossed it as he Summoned a knife and silver box from the altar. "One ritual remains, and that is to perform your first act together as husband and wife."
It wouldn't have mattered, Tonks supposed, if Remus had never quite managed to get that loose strand of hair back into her coif, as the custom called for each of them to cut off a lock of each other's hair. Remus looked a little nervous as he held the blade to Tonks' pink curls, but after a reminder that she could grow her hair back instantly if he made a mess of it and that he was the one that ought to be afraid of being made bald by his new bride, he snipped off a few strands. In an act of exemplary Gryffindor courage and marital trust, he handed the knife over to her -- his wife! -- and soon pink and silver hairs were mingled together in the silver box, which they knelt and buried together using a golden trowel.
"Now I may kiss my bride," said Remus as he helped her up.
"Yes, Remus Lupin," said Firenze, smiling. "Kiss her well."
Remus did exactly that, though Tonks thought it probably didn't have much to do with being told to by a Centaur. Not that she was thinking of much at all, with Remus' fingertips tracing shiver-inducing patterns on her cheeks and tangling in her curls as his lips moved softly, yet eagerly, over hers.
Your husband. Remus Lupin is kissing you, and he's your husband
When they drew back from one another, Firenze had laid a broomstick on the ground in front of them.
"Step forth," said the Centaur with a sweeping bow, "into your new life and rejoice."
Rejoicing in new life -- married life -- was another thing they didn't need to be told to do. Tonks definitely didn't; and as she looked up into Remus' broadly grinning, almost wildly happy, face, she knew he didn't, either. It was as plain as day that that his thoughts were the same place hers were: on the little cottage he'd prepared for her in the New Forest, their home that lay at the end of one path and at the start of another that had no end. Only each other...Remus and...Nymphadora...Lupin. And maybe someday one or two smaller Lupins, as well.
As they clasped hands and jumped over the broom, the sun broke over the horizon.
A new day had dawned.
The End