f a n t a s y
She's imagined this day before, of course, in the way that all little girls do. She's had countless fantasies about the dress-she wouldn't mind wearing one, for the first time ever- and the guests- everyone would come, of course. Celebrities and quidditch players would line up for miles. Even her Aunt Cissy and Aunt Bella, wouldn't Mum be happy to see her sisters again? She's always so sad, talking about her sisters. Don't they miss her, too?
Her daddy would walk her down an aisle and she wouldn't fall down the whole way. He'd lead her to the faceless man standing in front, and she'd pour her soul out in handwritten vows, which, looking back, sound disturbingly like horrible old lyrics to a Celestina Warbeck song.
It would all end in a long, perfect, forever kiss. Fireworks would erupt. All the world would stop and watch in envy. They'd ride off into the sunst on his beautiful broomstick and they'd never look back.
The war and her inner cynist have turned most of her girlhood fantasies to things to be remembered with a scoff, laughing at her childhood foolishness. Secretly, though, she's always nursed a soft spot for this particular dream.
Her wedding day.
She's imagined this day before, of course, but never like this.
She's wearing old muggle jeans and a shirt of his from the night before, big and soft.
Her mother and father alone stand behind her- everyone else who truly matters is gone. Dumbledore. Sirius. She does laugh, remembering a time she would have wanted Bellatrix Lestrange at her wedding. There's no aisle for her to be walked down, but her father holds her hand as she crosses the hallway into the room where the ceremony will be held, and while she doesn't fall, she does sort of stumble over a loose end of a carpet.
The man she arrives to is no longer faceless, but she's glad. His smile is beautiful and genuine and impossibly rare, and he wears it tonight, for her.
He takes her hands in his, and they recite traditional vows that have suddenly increased drastically in meaning. He slips a small, imperfect diamond on her finger and his lips touch hers.
There are no fireworks and no one is there to stare in envy, but she doesn't care. For a moment, she forgets that there is a war going on, that any of their remaining friends could be murdered in the next instant. She forgets that they could be out of time any second. All she can taste- all she can feel- is warmth and chocolate and the purest kind of love.
They walk away, hand in hand, and apparate back to the apartment as if nothing has changed.
Everything has changed.
He smiles down at her again, a real smile, and her heartbeat's increasing velocity is the stuff of a schoolgirl's fantasy. She smiles back, squeezing his hand.
She's imagined this day before, of course, but never like this- and now she wouldn't have it any other way.
I would like to wish a merry christmas to everyone, especially to TheOriginalHufflepuff, who recieves the credit for making me a Remus/Tonks shipper and to whom this story is dedicated.
All I want for christmas... is for you to press that little blue button and leave me a review!