[Kaleidoscope update] Promises
I'm determined to get a few Kaleidoscope installments done this summer (that's my Remus/Tonks fic series, which I'd better be sure to explain, since it's been so long since I've posted anything for it!). The end-of-OotP fic I've been trying to revise is currently still a little stuck, but I did manage to finish the wedding fic. :) I've had this idea in mind ever since DH came out, so it was fun to write it up at last.
This installment takes place an hour or two after Asking for Forever, and immediately before Crossing the Threshold, but it should stand alone as a story.
Promises
(3770 words | PG | HBP > DH)
Arthur is a witness: to Tonks being determined to outwit Dolores Umbridge just this once, and to Remus being torn between worry, guilt, and sheer joy. Oh, and to a wedding.
Promises
Arthur knew something was going on when he heard the heavy boots come clomping his way.
“Weasley. I need a word.”
He looked up from the tottering pile of confiscated artefacts that threatened to spill over the edges of his desk and met the eyes of one haughty, scowling Auror Tonks.
“Yes?” He raised a cool eyebrow and deliberately turned back to the Runman-that was what it was called, wasn’t it?-anyway, the thing had been enchanted to hypnotise anyone who put its headtones on. Diabolical, really.
“I don’t think your department is being careful enough about those Metamorph medals.” Tonks sauntered into his office, in that arrogant way Aurors have when they’re dealing with the rest of the Ministry, and pushed the door shut behind her.
And then her whole face lit up. “Arthur! You’ll never guess what’s happened!”
He sagged in relief-nothing was wrong in the Order, not this time. And he couldn’t help but smile at the sheer joy in her grin. “What is it, then?”
“Remus and I are getting married!”
“Really?” He jumped to his feet and hurried around his desk to give her a hug. “Congratulations! That’s wonderful!”
“Yeah. Erm.” Tonks turned slightly pink under her ice-blue bob. “It’s this afternoon, actually.”
Arthur blinked. “I see.” Well, things did happen quickly in wartime.
The pink went pinker. “And, erm, we were wondering-would you stand up for us, as a witness? Remus has gone to the Burrow, to ask Molly, too.”
“I-” Arthur shook his head. “I’d be delighted, Tonks, you know that, but-what about your parents?”
Tonks’s chin came up. “There’s no time. They’re away on holiday, and there’s no way to get a message to them fast enough. And even if we could, if they Apparated back here and came straight into the Ministry, people would notice.”
Arthur thought about how he would feel if Bill ran off and married Fleur without waiting for the family to make it to the wedding. But then he looked at Tonks again, and saw the tears in the corners of her eyes. People would notice.
“It’s because of Umbridge’s new legislation, isn’t it,” he said quietly.
Tonks nodded, and this time the scowl was real. “You’ve heard about it, too? I got the word straight from Runcorn. No non-human creature to be a legal party to any contract or license... It could go through any day. Tomorrow, even.”
“Of course I’ll stand up for you.” Arthur squeezed her arm. “I’m honoured to be asked.”
Her smile returned. “We thought of you and Molly at once-you were cheering for the two of us all along.”
“And I’m already in the building,” added Arthur shrewdly, “and Molly stops in to collect me sometimes, so no one’s going to think anything of it if she appears this afternoon.”
“Yeah.” Tonks’s grin turned, well, Marauderish. Sirius would have been proud. “And so the Order will put one over on the Ministry, again.”
“What time shall I go down?” he asked.
“The office closes at five,” said Tonks, “so we thought maybe half past four?”
“I’ll be there,” he said, and she gave him another quick hug before constructing a supercilious face and clomping off down the corridor.
. * . * .
At exactly twenty-five minutes past four, Arthur made plausible excuses, slipped away from the clean-up and paperwork after a surprise raid on a magic-carpet shop (Artemis Rodgers had things well in hand, anyway), and Apparated back to the Ministry. He scooted across the Atrium and squeezed into a lift just before the golden grilles clanged shut.
The lift’s only other occupant was Remus, wearing a visitor’s badge with the flashing red stripe that signalled Dark creature and a secret little smile.
Arthur grinned and clapped him on the arm. “I hear congratulations are in order!”
Remus’s smile spread. In fact, he looked rather awestruck, not unlike a little boy who’d found exactly what he’d asked for under the tree on Christmas morning, but didn’t quite dare to believe that he was really allowed to open it.
“Thank you,” said Remus. “And thanks for coming. We-”
The lift doors slid open, so Arthur and Remus turned away from each other and attempted to look neutral. But (to Arthur’s secret delight) Remus couldn’t entirely suppress his expression of dazed wonder.
And then three people got on amidst a flock of purple memos. One by one, they caught sight of Remus’s flashing badge and stepped quickly away, until they were all up against the far wall, standing rather closer together than people in a lift normally do.
Arthur could only watch, helpless to stop Remus’s smile from twisting into something sharp and brittle.
“Level four,” said the lift. “Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”
Arthur and Remus were the only ones who got off. They were confronted with a sign that read Beings and Spirits Divisions, with a large arrow pointing to the left, and Beasts Division, with another large arrow pointing to the right.
Remus glanced to his right before turning sharply to the left. Arthur followed a few steps behind, trying to look as though he just happened to be walking in the same direction.
Halfway along the corridor, a youngish woman was busy locking the door to one of the offices. She looked up and saw them as they approached.
“Why, Mr. Lupin!” she called.
Remus stiffened. His steps slowed.
“I’m so sorry,” said the woman, “but you know our office closes at half past four. What is it you need? It can’t be time for your four-year evaluation again already, can it?
“Hello, Henrietta,” said Remus tightly. “I’m actually headed...somewhere else just now.”
“Oh, all right. Good night, then.” She gave a cheery wave and hurried off in the opposite direction, back toward the lift.
When Arthur passed the office she’d been locking up, he saw the peeling gold letters on the door: Werewolf Support Services.
Remus stopped and turned halfway round, waiting for Arthur to catch up. The brittle smile was back. “Could’ve been worse,” he murmured. “Could’ve been the Capture Unit.”
Arthur opened his mouth, grasping for something-anything-to say that might lighten the mood.
“What am I doing?” Remus asked, abandoning even his last hollow pretense of humour. He rubbed at his face with one hand. “What am I thinking, bringing Nymphadora into this?”
For once, the anguish in his eyes was raw, unshielded. It tore at something in Arthur’s own heart.
“What you’re doing is making her happy,” said Arthur levelly. “When she came to tell me the news this morning, I thought she was going to sprout wings and take flight.”
Remus closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and then another. “She does say that this is what she wants.”
“What about you?” Arthur knew the true answer to that question-no one who had learned how to read Remus over the last few years could have any doubt whatsoever-but he pushed, anyway, wanting to see what Remus would say. “Is this what you want?”
Remus swallowed, and looked away, but then he met Arthur’s gaze straight on. “If it were only about the two of us, then-yes.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “There are no words to say how much I want this.” He shivered. “But-”
Arthur put a hand on Remus’s shoulder. “You have heard what Umbridge is trying to push through the Wizengamot this time, haven’t you?”
Remus nodded, lips pressed tightly together.
“Then you know that today may be your last chance to do this at all, for who knows how long.” Arthur shook his head. “If this really is what you want, you had better do it now.”
Remus clenched his fingers into a fist and then slowly let go. “That’s exactly the trouble-there’s not enough time to work out how dangerous this is really going to be for Nymphadora’s career, for her future-”
“Or rather, there’s not enough time to worry, when this is exactly what both of you want most.” Arthur gave Remus a gentle push in the direction they had been walking. “Come on, then.”
Remus managed a smile, though it looked rather forced, and led the way down the corridor again.
. * . * .
The office labelled Registry of Magical Births, Deaths, and Marriages was all the way at the far end of the Beings Division. Arthur followed Remus inside.
A man looked up from behind a desk piled high with thick ledgers and a nameplate that read Thaddeus Johnson. “May I help you, gentlemen?”
“We’re meeting someone here in a few minutes,” said Remus, keeping his tone carefully bland. “Do you mind if we wait inside?” Inside, where passing Ministry officials or Wizengamot members were much less likely to spot them. Remus was, after all, rather high-profile for a werewolf, thanks to the scandal that had ended his year at Hogwarts.
“Not at all.” Johnson gave a perfunctory smile and turned back to his work. “Just let me know if you need anything.”
They stood at the front of the dingy brown office, near the end of a long row of battered filing cabinets, and waited. A swarm of memos flapped about overhead-pink and blue for births, black-edged for deaths, and even a few white ones for marriages. Every so often, Johnson would point his wand and a memo would make a dive for his desk. He would scratch notes into one ledger or another with a quill of an appropriate colour and then send the memo off to lodge itself in a file drawer.
The door opened again. Remus’s head jerked up, but it was Molly who slipped through.
“Hello, love.” She gave Arthur’s elbow a quick squeeze. “Hello, Remus, dear. Did you have a chance to stop in at Gringotts?”
“I did,” he said, and a hint of his earlier awestruck smile returned.
“Good, good.” Molly beamed, opening her handbag. “Now, here’s a little something I put together for your supper tonight.” She handed Remus a miniaturised picnic basket. “Be sure to set it on a table before you cancel the Shrinking Charm-it’s quite heavy!”
Remus stammered thanks, which Molly brushed aside, and tucked the tiny basket into a pocket of his robes.
“Oh, yes, and here are the flowers you picked this morning.” Molly pulled a tiny bouquet from the handbag and tapped it with her wand to enlarge it. “Aren’t they lovely, Arthur?” And they were-it was nothing special, only a posy of summer flowers from the garden at The Burrow, but they had been very carefully arranged, and the riot of joyous colour immediately made Arthur think of Tonks.
Johnson was watching them now. He had glanced up when Molly came in, and now he seemed amused, or bemused, by her bustling. Remus looked uncomfortable under his scrutiny, even though the man would have to be told what they were here for eventually, anyway; that was the whole point-
“Wotcher!” Tonks darted in through the door and slammed it shut behind her. She was pink-faced and breathing hard, but she was laughing. “That was close! First, Dawlish would not shut up about next week’s duty roster. I thought I would never get away. Then, when I got off the lift, I almost ran straight into Robards!”
Remus stiffened, and Arthur winced. Calling his attention to how important-and difficult-it was for Tonks to keep this whole thing secret around the Ministry was probably not the wisest strategy just now.
But Tonks went right to Remus and threw her arms around him. His face softened, and he caught her up and held her close.
“Are you, by chance, here for a marriage license?” came Johnson’s voice. “Only, I do need to close the office in about fifteen minutes.”
Tonks broke the embrace, but she kept hold of Remus by the hand and pulled him over to the desk. “That’s right,” she said brightly. “We’d like to be married, please.”
“May I have your names?” Johnson pulled a blank form out of his desk and brandished a gold-coloured quill.
“Nymphadora Andromeda Tonks,” said Tonks in a firm clear voice. Then she turned around and fixed Arthur and Molly with a glare. “And I never ever want to hear that from you lot, yeah?”
“Of course not, dear,” said Molly fondly. Arthur winked.
Remus cleared his throat. “Remus John Lupin.”
Johnson looked up, sharply, at that, and seemed to take in the warning stripe on the visitor’s badge for the first time.
Remus pressed his lips together. Tonks wrapped both hands around his arm and stood very close. Arthur caught Molly’s eye and shared a frown. If Johnson were one of Umbridge’s lackeys, he could quite easily stall them for fifteen minutes tonight, and even find an excuse to close the office tomorrow, until the law had gone through and it was entirely too late.
“Are you the Lupin who taught at Hogwarts a few years ago?” the clerk asked.
Remus held himself very straight. “I am.”
“Well, then, I’m very pleased to meet you.” Johnson stood up and stuck out his hand. “My Angelina said you were the best Defence professor she’d ever had. Talked about you all the time.”
Remus laughed, a little weakly, and shook hands. “Angelina was an excellent student-and a terror on the Quidditch pitch.”
Johnson beamed, obviously proud of his daughter. “Well, then, my congratulations to you both. Are you taking the license with you to be married elsewhere, or would you like me to perform the ceremony?”
Remus looked uncomfortable again, at the choice that really wasn’t one, for them.
“We’ll do it here, please,” said Tonks, squeezing his arm.
“But wait just a minute,” said Molly. “We have to get you both ready!” Everyone turned to stare at her, but she paid no attention, merely handing the bouquet to Tonks. “Your flowers, dear. Remus picked them for you.”
“They’re brilliant!” Tonks took a deep sniff. Her enormous smile was back, and Remus had a small sheepish grin now as well.
“Next, the robes,” Molly went on. “Tonks, I can transfigure something bridal for you, and Remus, let’s conjure a lovely set of dress robes for you as well.” She raised her wand.
Oh, Molly, don’t. Arthur saw the subtle clench of Remus’s jaw, the way the light in his eyes began to fade. Don’t give him any reason to start thinking he isn’t good enough for this again-
But Tonks was faster. “Thanks, Molly, but that’s all right. No Appearance Charms. I want this to be real-to be us.”
Molly looked a little taken aback, but Remus took a deep breath and nodded in agreement, and to Arthur’s relief, Molly didn’t press the issue.
Tonks turned to Remus and grinned, impishly. “Except for my hair, of course. I change that all the time, so it’s fair game.” She cocked her head. “What’ll it be? You pick.”
“What?” Remus blinked at her. “I can’t choose for you-it’s your hair-”
“No, really.” Tonks slipped her arm through his and nudged him with her hip. “You brought flowers for me. I want this to be something for you.”
Remus searched her eyes, frowning a little, but she nudged him again, and finally he quirked a half-grin. “If you’re certain-” she nodded vigorously-“then how about the pink?”
The ice-blue bob she’d been wearing since that morning shortened, shimmered, and rearranged itself into her trademark pink spikes. Remus watched, eyes crinkling. They shared a private smile.
Molly gave a happy sigh and squeezed Arthur’s hand, her discomfiture forgotten.
Then a flash of red caught Arthur’s eye, and he touched Remus on the arm. “Let me hold the badge,” he said quietly. “It won’t do to be married wearing that.”
Remus’s eyes darkened, and he nodded at once, twisting off the offending visitor’s badge. Arthur stuffed it deep inside a pocket, grimacing as the pin pricked his finger.
“I don’t need these, either,” Tonks muttered, giving her flowers back to Molly just long enough to pull off her scarlet Auror’s robes and dump them on a folding chair that stood sentry on one side of the door. Underneath, she wore baggy jeans and a jumper with purple sequins, and (with silent apologies to Molly) Arthur rather thought the outfit suited her.
“Will there be an exchange of rings?” asked Johnson, looking up from a form he was filling out.
“No,” said Tonks quickly, “no rings, we don’t need that sort of thing-”
“Actually,” Remus began. He cleared his throat.
Tonks stared at him. So did Arthur. But Molly only smiled.
Remus fumbled for a moment in the pocket of his robes, emerging with a faded velvet box that he opened and held out for inspection. The rings inside were small and plain, but the gold shone brightly, and the tiny gemstone on the smaller ring had a merry sparkle.
“These were my parents’,” he said, looking only at Tonks. “We could use them, if you like.” He swallowed. “If you don’t mind too much that they aren’t new.”
Tonks, holding her breath, reached out to touch the rings with one careful finger. “They’re lovely.” Her eyes shone. “I would be honoured to wear your mother’s ring.”
Remus had his awestruck Christmas-morning smile back again, full force.
“Exchange of rings,” said Johnson, with a businesslike nod. But he was smiling, too.
. * . * .
Johnson came around from behind his desk. Remus and Tonks took their places in front of him. Arthur and Molly stood just one pace further back. And at long last, the ceremony began.
Johnson had a fine, rich voice, and the old familiar words of the marriage rite resonated even in the cramped and dusty ugliness of the Ministry office, lending it some of their beauty.
Tonks said her vows in the same clear voice that she had used to state her name. The joy in her eyes was warm and steady, like a Lumos, like a beacon in the night.
Remus’s voice was still quiet, as was his way, but it only shook once before it evened out. When he finished his vows, his hope and joy flared up like a bonfire. Arthur had never seen him blaze so brightly.
The rings, being magical, resized themselves to fit perfectly on Tonks’s small finger and Remus’s long one.
And then Johnson pronounced them married.
Tonks put her hands on Remus’s shoulders and closed her eyes, leaning in for a kiss. Remus held his breath, stroking her cheek with the tips of his fingers. She opened her eyes again, and Remus, seeing the love that shone there, broke into another smile of joy, of disbelief, of relief, and pulled her into a long, sweet kiss.
Arthur reached for the hand of the woman who had said those words to him so long ago, thinner then and with brighter hair, under a wreath of daisies. The woman with whom he would be standing in a matter of days when their eldest son said those words for himself.
He hoped with all his heart that Remus and Tonks-and Bill and Fleur-would find as much happiness together as he had found with Molly.
. * . * .
When Remus and Tonks finally ended their kiss, looking a bit dazed, Arthur and Molly applauded furiously, and there were hugs all round. Molly dove into her handbag again and came out with the family camera. She snapped the newlyweds, and then Johnson cheerfully snapped the four of them, smiling and waving.
Remus pulled something out of his pocket and broke a Shrinking Charm to reveal a bottle of very fine wine. Arthur goggled a little, and Molly mouthed a silent Oh. But Tonks merely grinned and gave Remus a sideways hug.
“Something else from my parents’ vault at Gringotts,” he said, almost apologetically. “Most of it is saved for a rainy day-” to sell, Arthur presumed-“but today is a day to share a bottle.” He pulled a handful of Knuts out of another pocket and Transfigured five wine glasses. “Will you join us?” he asked Johnson.
The clerk broke into a startled grin. “Well, it seems it’s just gone five, so I suppose I could, at that. Thank you.”
Remus filled the glasses, and Tonks handed them round. (Molly had her wand at the ready, but there were no accidents.)
“Let me propose a toast!” Arthur raised his glass. “To Remus and-erm-”
Molly laughed at him a little, gently. He smiled sheepishly back. Should have thought this through...
“What are we to call you now, dear?” Molly asked the Ministry’s most newly registered bride-who was, in point of fact, blushing.
“Tonks, of course.” Another grin worthy of a Marauder. “Tonks Lupin.”
Remus, with one arm wrapped firmly around his wife’s waist, was grinning too, but he arched an eyebrow. “I’m not going to call you Tonks any more, remember? I warned you this morning.”
“Well, you certainly won’t be calling me Nymphadora.” Her own eyebrow rose in challenge.
And then Remus drew a shaky breath, and the grin was gone. “Your-your family calls you Dora.”
Tonks went very, very still. “That would work.”
“My Dora,” said Remus, hoarsely.
All at once she was in his arms, and his face was buried in her spiky pink hair.
Molly, who had managed to stop the two forgotten glasses of wine before they hit the floor, sniffled quietly and slipped her hand into Arthur’s again. Even Johnson was blinking a little behind his thick glasses.
It was eminently clear that, for Remus and Tonks, there was no Ministry, no anti-werewolf legislation, no You-Know-Who.
No one else in the room with them at all.
. * fin * .
"Kaleidoscope" series index
.
This installment takes place an hour or two after Asking for Forever, and immediately before Crossing the Threshold, but it should stand alone as a story.
Promises
(3770 words | PG | HBP > DH)
Arthur is a witness: to Tonks being determined to outwit Dolores Umbridge just this once, and to Remus being torn between worry, guilt, and sheer joy. Oh, and to a wedding.
Promises
Arthur knew something was going on when he heard the heavy boots come clomping his way.
“Weasley. I need a word.”
He looked up from the tottering pile of confiscated artefacts that threatened to spill over the edges of his desk and met the eyes of one haughty, scowling Auror Tonks.
“Yes?” He raised a cool eyebrow and deliberately turned back to the Runman-that was what it was called, wasn’t it?-anyway, the thing had been enchanted to hypnotise anyone who put its headtones on. Diabolical, really.
“I don’t think your department is being careful enough about those Metamorph medals.” Tonks sauntered into his office, in that arrogant way Aurors have when they’re dealing with the rest of the Ministry, and pushed the door shut behind her.
And then her whole face lit up. “Arthur! You’ll never guess what’s happened!”
He sagged in relief-nothing was wrong in the Order, not this time. And he couldn’t help but smile at the sheer joy in her grin. “What is it, then?”
“Remus and I are getting married!”
“Really?” He jumped to his feet and hurried around his desk to give her a hug. “Congratulations! That’s wonderful!”
“Yeah. Erm.” Tonks turned slightly pink under her ice-blue bob. “It’s this afternoon, actually.”
Arthur blinked. “I see.” Well, things did happen quickly in wartime.
The pink went pinker. “And, erm, we were wondering-would you stand up for us, as a witness? Remus has gone to the Burrow, to ask Molly, too.”
“I-” Arthur shook his head. “I’d be delighted, Tonks, you know that, but-what about your parents?”
Tonks’s chin came up. “There’s no time. They’re away on holiday, and there’s no way to get a message to them fast enough. And even if we could, if they Apparated back here and came straight into the Ministry, people would notice.”
Arthur thought about how he would feel if Bill ran off and married Fleur without waiting for the family to make it to the wedding. But then he looked at Tonks again, and saw the tears in the corners of her eyes. People would notice.
“It’s because of Umbridge’s new legislation, isn’t it,” he said quietly.
Tonks nodded, and this time the scowl was real. “You’ve heard about it, too? I got the word straight from Runcorn. No non-human creature to be a legal party to any contract or license... It could go through any day. Tomorrow, even.”
“Of course I’ll stand up for you.” Arthur squeezed her arm. “I’m honoured to be asked.”
Her smile returned. “We thought of you and Molly at once-you were cheering for the two of us all along.”
“And I’m already in the building,” added Arthur shrewdly, “and Molly stops in to collect me sometimes, so no one’s going to think anything of it if she appears this afternoon.”
“Yeah.” Tonks’s grin turned, well, Marauderish. Sirius would have been proud. “And so the Order will put one over on the Ministry, again.”
“What time shall I go down?” he asked.
“The office closes at five,” said Tonks, “so we thought maybe half past four?”
“I’ll be there,” he said, and she gave him another quick hug before constructing a supercilious face and clomping off down the corridor.
. * . * .
At exactly twenty-five minutes past four, Arthur made plausible excuses, slipped away from the clean-up and paperwork after a surprise raid on a magic-carpet shop (Artemis Rodgers had things well in hand, anyway), and Apparated back to the Ministry. He scooted across the Atrium and squeezed into a lift just before the golden grilles clanged shut.
The lift’s only other occupant was Remus, wearing a visitor’s badge with the flashing red stripe that signalled Dark creature and a secret little smile.
Arthur grinned and clapped him on the arm. “I hear congratulations are in order!”
Remus’s smile spread. In fact, he looked rather awestruck, not unlike a little boy who’d found exactly what he’d asked for under the tree on Christmas morning, but didn’t quite dare to believe that he was really allowed to open it.
“Thank you,” said Remus. “And thanks for coming. We-”
The lift doors slid open, so Arthur and Remus turned away from each other and attempted to look neutral. But (to Arthur’s secret delight) Remus couldn’t entirely suppress his expression of dazed wonder.
And then three people got on amidst a flock of purple memos. One by one, they caught sight of Remus’s flashing badge and stepped quickly away, until they were all up against the far wall, standing rather closer together than people in a lift normally do.
Arthur could only watch, helpless to stop Remus’s smile from twisting into something sharp and brittle.
“Level four,” said the lift. “Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”
Arthur and Remus were the only ones who got off. They were confronted with a sign that read Beings and Spirits Divisions, with a large arrow pointing to the left, and Beasts Division, with another large arrow pointing to the right.
Remus glanced to his right before turning sharply to the left. Arthur followed a few steps behind, trying to look as though he just happened to be walking in the same direction.
Halfway along the corridor, a youngish woman was busy locking the door to one of the offices. She looked up and saw them as they approached.
“Why, Mr. Lupin!” she called.
Remus stiffened. His steps slowed.
“I’m so sorry,” said the woman, “but you know our office closes at half past four. What is it you need? It can’t be time for your four-year evaluation again already, can it?
“Hello, Henrietta,” said Remus tightly. “I’m actually headed...somewhere else just now.”
“Oh, all right. Good night, then.” She gave a cheery wave and hurried off in the opposite direction, back toward the lift.
When Arthur passed the office she’d been locking up, he saw the peeling gold letters on the door: Werewolf Support Services.
Remus stopped and turned halfway round, waiting for Arthur to catch up. The brittle smile was back. “Could’ve been worse,” he murmured. “Could’ve been the Capture Unit.”
Arthur opened his mouth, grasping for something-anything-to say that might lighten the mood.
“What am I doing?” Remus asked, abandoning even his last hollow pretense of humour. He rubbed at his face with one hand. “What am I thinking, bringing Nymphadora into this?”
For once, the anguish in his eyes was raw, unshielded. It tore at something in Arthur’s own heart.
“What you’re doing is making her happy,” said Arthur levelly. “When she came to tell me the news this morning, I thought she was going to sprout wings and take flight.”
Remus closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and then another. “She does say that this is what she wants.”
“What about you?” Arthur knew the true answer to that question-no one who had learned how to read Remus over the last few years could have any doubt whatsoever-but he pushed, anyway, wanting to see what Remus would say. “Is this what you want?”
Remus swallowed, and looked away, but then he met Arthur’s gaze straight on. “If it were only about the two of us, then-yes.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “There are no words to say how much I want this.” He shivered. “But-”
Arthur put a hand on Remus’s shoulder. “You have heard what Umbridge is trying to push through the Wizengamot this time, haven’t you?”
Remus nodded, lips pressed tightly together.
“Then you know that today may be your last chance to do this at all, for who knows how long.” Arthur shook his head. “If this really is what you want, you had better do it now.”
Remus clenched his fingers into a fist and then slowly let go. “That’s exactly the trouble-there’s not enough time to work out how dangerous this is really going to be for Nymphadora’s career, for her future-”
“Or rather, there’s not enough time to worry, when this is exactly what both of you want most.” Arthur gave Remus a gentle push in the direction they had been walking. “Come on, then.”
Remus managed a smile, though it looked rather forced, and led the way down the corridor again.
. * . * .
The office labelled Registry of Magical Births, Deaths, and Marriages was all the way at the far end of the Beings Division. Arthur followed Remus inside.
A man looked up from behind a desk piled high with thick ledgers and a nameplate that read Thaddeus Johnson. “May I help you, gentlemen?”
“We’re meeting someone here in a few minutes,” said Remus, keeping his tone carefully bland. “Do you mind if we wait inside?” Inside, where passing Ministry officials or Wizengamot members were much less likely to spot them. Remus was, after all, rather high-profile for a werewolf, thanks to the scandal that had ended his year at Hogwarts.
“Not at all.” Johnson gave a perfunctory smile and turned back to his work. “Just let me know if you need anything.”
They stood at the front of the dingy brown office, near the end of a long row of battered filing cabinets, and waited. A swarm of memos flapped about overhead-pink and blue for births, black-edged for deaths, and even a few white ones for marriages. Every so often, Johnson would point his wand and a memo would make a dive for his desk. He would scratch notes into one ledger or another with a quill of an appropriate colour and then send the memo off to lodge itself in a file drawer.
The door opened again. Remus’s head jerked up, but it was Molly who slipped through.
“Hello, love.” She gave Arthur’s elbow a quick squeeze. “Hello, Remus, dear. Did you have a chance to stop in at Gringotts?”
“I did,” he said, and a hint of his earlier awestruck smile returned.
“Good, good.” Molly beamed, opening her handbag. “Now, here’s a little something I put together for your supper tonight.” She handed Remus a miniaturised picnic basket. “Be sure to set it on a table before you cancel the Shrinking Charm-it’s quite heavy!”
Remus stammered thanks, which Molly brushed aside, and tucked the tiny basket into a pocket of his robes.
“Oh, yes, and here are the flowers you picked this morning.” Molly pulled a tiny bouquet from the handbag and tapped it with her wand to enlarge it. “Aren’t they lovely, Arthur?” And they were-it was nothing special, only a posy of summer flowers from the garden at The Burrow, but they had been very carefully arranged, and the riot of joyous colour immediately made Arthur think of Tonks.
Johnson was watching them now. He had glanced up when Molly came in, and now he seemed amused, or bemused, by her bustling. Remus looked uncomfortable under his scrutiny, even though the man would have to be told what they were here for eventually, anyway; that was the whole point-
“Wotcher!” Tonks darted in through the door and slammed it shut behind her. She was pink-faced and breathing hard, but she was laughing. “That was close! First, Dawlish would not shut up about next week’s duty roster. I thought I would never get away. Then, when I got off the lift, I almost ran straight into Robards!”
Remus stiffened, and Arthur winced. Calling his attention to how important-and difficult-it was for Tonks to keep this whole thing secret around the Ministry was probably not the wisest strategy just now.
But Tonks went right to Remus and threw her arms around him. His face softened, and he caught her up and held her close.
“Are you, by chance, here for a marriage license?” came Johnson’s voice. “Only, I do need to close the office in about fifteen minutes.”
Tonks broke the embrace, but she kept hold of Remus by the hand and pulled him over to the desk. “That’s right,” she said brightly. “We’d like to be married, please.”
“May I have your names?” Johnson pulled a blank form out of his desk and brandished a gold-coloured quill.
“Nymphadora Andromeda Tonks,” said Tonks in a firm clear voice. Then she turned around and fixed Arthur and Molly with a glare. “And I never ever want to hear that from you lot, yeah?”
“Of course not, dear,” said Molly fondly. Arthur winked.
Remus cleared his throat. “Remus John Lupin.”
Johnson looked up, sharply, at that, and seemed to take in the warning stripe on the visitor’s badge for the first time.
Remus pressed his lips together. Tonks wrapped both hands around his arm and stood very close. Arthur caught Molly’s eye and shared a frown. If Johnson were one of Umbridge’s lackeys, he could quite easily stall them for fifteen minutes tonight, and even find an excuse to close the office tomorrow, until the law had gone through and it was entirely too late.
“Are you the Lupin who taught at Hogwarts a few years ago?” the clerk asked.
Remus held himself very straight. “I am.”
“Well, then, I’m very pleased to meet you.” Johnson stood up and stuck out his hand. “My Angelina said you were the best Defence professor she’d ever had. Talked about you all the time.”
Remus laughed, a little weakly, and shook hands. “Angelina was an excellent student-and a terror on the Quidditch pitch.”
Johnson beamed, obviously proud of his daughter. “Well, then, my congratulations to you both. Are you taking the license with you to be married elsewhere, or would you like me to perform the ceremony?”
Remus looked uncomfortable again, at the choice that really wasn’t one, for them.
“We’ll do it here, please,” said Tonks, squeezing his arm.
“But wait just a minute,” said Molly. “We have to get you both ready!” Everyone turned to stare at her, but she paid no attention, merely handing the bouquet to Tonks. “Your flowers, dear. Remus picked them for you.”
“They’re brilliant!” Tonks took a deep sniff. Her enormous smile was back, and Remus had a small sheepish grin now as well.
“Next, the robes,” Molly went on. “Tonks, I can transfigure something bridal for you, and Remus, let’s conjure a lovely set of dress robes for you as well.” She raised her wand.
Oh, Molly, don’t. Arthur saw the subtle clench of Remus’s jaw, the way the light in his eyes began to fade. Don’t give him any reason to start thinking he isn’t good enough for this again-
But Tonks was faster. “Thanks, Molly, but that’s all right. No Appearance Charms. I want this to be real-to be us.”
Molly looked a little taken aback, but Remus took a deep breath and nodded in agreement, and to Arthur’s relief, Molly didn’t press the issue.
Tonks turned to Remus and grinned, impishly. “Except for my hair, of course. I change that all the time, so it’s fair game.” She cocked her head. “What’ll it be? You pick.”
“What?” Remus blinked at her. “I can’t choose for you-it’s your hair-”
“No, really.” Tonks slipped her arm through his and nudged him with her hip. “You brought flowers for me. I want this to be something for you.”
Remus searched her eyes, frowning a little, but she nudged him again, and finally he quirked a half-grin. “If you’re certain-” she nodded vigorously-“then how about the pink?”
The ice-blue bob she’d been wearing since that morning shortened, shimmered, and rearranged itself into her trademark pink spikes. Remus watched, eyes crinkling. They shared a private smile.
Molly gave a happy sigh and squeezed Arthur’s hand, her discomfiture forgotten.
Then a flash of red caught Arthur’s eye, and he touched Remus on the arm. “Let me hold the badge,” he said quietly. “It won’t do to be married wearing that.”
Remus’s eyes darkened, and he nodded at once, twisting off the offending visitor’s badge. Arthur stuffed it deep inside a pocket, grimacing as the pin pricked his finger.
“I don’t need these, either,” Tonks muttered, giving her flowers back to Molly just long enough to pull off her scarlet Auror’s robes and dump them on a folding chair that stood sentry on one side of the door. Underneath, she wore baggy jeans and a jumper with purple sequins, and (with silent apologies to Molly) Arthur rather thought the outfit suited her.
“Will there be an exchange of rings?” asked Johnson, looking up from a form he was filling out.
“No,” said Tonks quickly, “no rings, we don’t need that sort of thing-”
“Actually,” Remus began. He cleared his throat.
Tonks stared at him. So did Arthur. But Molly only smiled.
Remus fumbled for a moment in the pocket of his robes, emerging with a faded velvet box that he opened and held out for inspection. The rings inside were small and plain, but the gold shone brightly, and the tiny gemstone on the smaller ring had a merry sparkle.
“These were my parents’,” he said, looking only at Tonks. “We could use them, if you like.” He swallowed. “If you don’t mind too much that they aren’t new.”
Tonks, holding her breath, reached out to touch the rings with one careful finger. “They’re lovely.” Her eyes shone. “I would be honoured to wear your mother’s ring.”
Remus had his awestruck Christmas-morning smile back again, full force.
“Exchange of rings,” said Johnson, with a businesslike nod. But he was smiling, too.
. * . * .
Johnson came around from behind his desk. Remus and Tonks took their places in front of him. Arthur and Molly stood just one pace further back. And at long last, the ceremony began.
Johnson had a fine, rich voice, and the old familiar words of the marriage rite resonated even in the cramped and dusty ugliness of the Ministry office, lending it some of their beauty.
Tonks said her vows in the same clear voice that she had used to state her name. The joy in her eyes was warm and steady, like a Lumos, like a beacon in the night.
Remus’s voice was still quiet, as was his way, but it only shook once before it evened out. When he finished his vows, his hope and joy flared up like a bonfire. Arthur had never seen him blaze so brightly.
The rings, being magical, resized themselves to fit perfectly on Tonks’s small finger and Remus’s long one.
And then Johnson pronounced them married.
Tonks put her hands on Remus’s shoulders and closed her eyes, leaning in for a kiss. Remus held his breath, stroking her cheek with the tips of his fingers. She opened her eyes again, and Remus, seeing the love that shone there, broke into another smile of joy, of disbelief, of relief, and pulled her into a long, sweet kiss.
Arthur reached for the hand of the woman who had said those words to him so long ago, thinner then and with brighter hair, under a wreath of daisies. The woman with whom he would be standing in a matter of days when their eldest son said those words for himself.
He hoped with all his heart that Remus and Tonks-and Bill and Fleur-would find as much happiness together as he had found with Molly.
. * . * .
When Remus and Tonks finally ended their kiss, looking a bit dazed, Arthur and Molly applauded furiously, and there were hugs all round. Molly dove into her handbag again and came out with the family camera. She snapped the newlyweds, and then Johnson cheerfully snapped the four of them, smiling and waving.
Remus pulled something out of his pocket and broke a Shrinking Charm to reveal a bottle of very fine wine. Arthur goggled a little, and Molly mouthed a silent Oh. But Tonks merely grinned and gave Remus a sideways hug.
“Something else from my parents’ vault at Gringotts,” he said, almost apologetically. “Most of it is saved for a rainy day-” to sell, Arthur presumed-“but today is a day to share a bottle.” He pulled a handful of Knuts out of another pocket and Transfigured five wine glasses. “Will you join us?” he asked Johnson.
The clerk broke into a startled grin. “Well, it seems it’s just gone five, so I suppose I could, at that. Thank you.”
Remus filled the glasses, and Tonks handed them round. (Molly had her wand at the ready, but there were no accidents.)
“Let me propose a toast!” Arthur raised his glass. “To Remus and-erm-”
Molly laughed at him a little, gently. He smiled sheepishly back. Should have thought this through...
“What are we to call you now, dear?” Molly asked the Ministry’s most newly registered bride-who was, in point of fact, blushing.
“Tonks, of course.” Another grin worthy of a Marauder. “Tonks Lupin.”
Remus, with one arm wrapped firmly around his wife’s waist, was grinning too, but he arched an eyebrow. “I’m not going to call you Tonks any more, remember? I warned you this morning.”
“Well, you certainly won’t be calling me Nymphadora.” Her own eyebrow rose in challenge.
And then Remus drew a shaky breath, and the grin was gone. “Your-your family calls you Dora.”
Tonks went very, very still. “That would work.”
“My Dora,” said Remus, hoarsely.
All at once she was in his arms, and his face was buried in her spiky pink hair.
Molly, who had managed to stop the two forgotten glasses of wine before they hit the floor, sniffled quietly and slipped her hand into Arthur’s again. Even Johnson was blinking a little behind his thick glasses.
It was eminently clear that, for Remus and Tonks, there was no Ministry, no anti-werewolf legislation, no You-Know-Who.
No one else in the room with them at all.
. * fin * .
"Kaleidoscope" series index
.