A/N: This story is set in 2023. In this alternate universe, Remus and Tonks have three children, Teddy (25), Maura (22), and Rhiannon (Rhia) (17).

"We're about to be descended upon, Remus." Dora buried her face in his neck.

He touched his lips to her temple. "That we are. I know you wouldn't have it any other way."

She raised her head. " 'Course not. I love our kids, but I love peace and quiet, too." His eyebrow shot upward. "Well, relative peace and quiet."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I forgot the marshmallows when I went into Muggle London the other day." Remus merely grinned and Summoned a brightly colored plastic bag. "It's a good thing I have you around."

"We have to stick to tradition." Their shared smiles communicated all the history that their tradition encompassed. It had carried them through separation, war, and the rebuilding afterward. It was a simple thing, really, but it stood for so much more.

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"Have you ever had hot chocolate with marshmallows?" Remus was sitting in an armchair in the Grimmauld Place library while Tonks was sprawled out on the sofa.

"I only ever had it plain or with cinnamon. My mum thought it was sophisticated, and she hates the trend of putting whipped cream in it."

"Well, we'll have to remedy that this year." He shook his head at her again for emphasis. "It's an absolute travesty that you've never had such a delicacy."

"And what are marshmallows again? My dad's mentioned them before, but my mum never let him have any Muggle sweets in the house."

"He never tried to go around her?"

"Well, he understood the value of picking his battles. He loved his football paraphernalia too much to defy her about candy."

"I'm not exactly sure what goes into making marshmallows, but they're basically sugar."

"Then why add them to hot chocolate?" His only response was to roll his eyes at her. "Oh, of course, you can never have enough sugar."

They returned to companionable silence with Sirius' drunken humming of Christmas carols in the background.

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That afternoon he and Dora picked Rhia up from King's Cross. She chattered excitedly about her seventh year and her mingled excitement and dread for her upcoming NEWTS. Maura arrived about an hour later, fresh from the Auror Office. Teddy and Victoire rounded out the group when they came just before supper.

Remus watched his family gather around their medium-sized spruce and jostle for positions in hanging the lights and ornaments. They were all laughing and telling each other about their lives. Dora was happily in the midst of it all, as he knew she would be despite her earlier lament. She only avoided the most precious and delicate of their ornaments.

Part of him still could not believe he was so lucky. He had three wonderful children who were happy and healthy. He had a strong, kind, beautiful wife with whom he was still madly in love after twenty-five years of marriage. He had regained his beloved teaching post ten years earlier, and therefore, could give his family everything they deserved. There was still prejudice against werewolves in the world, but it was confined to a much smaller group of people than previously. All the hardships and pain of his earlier life seemed to fade away more every year.

Satisfied exclamations broke into his musing. They all stood back to admire their handiwork. He thought he had never seen a more marvelous tree in his life. He laughed at himself for his sentimentality and realized that this observation was probably skewed by his earlier thoughts. But it was still a bloody fantastic tree!

Now came his favorite part of the night, when his family gathered around to relax together hear a story that he had told many times, but somehow still retained a certain specialness.

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A week later it was Christmas Eve. The kids were finally asleep. Due to the attack on Arthur and the Order's scrambling to cover for him and discover what led to his injuries, there had been little time for hot chocolate or decorating.

Tonks had taken most of the responsibility upon herself, on top of her two other jobs. You couldn't move a few feet at Grimmauld without encountering some new length of tinsel or sprig of holly adorning the musty walls. Remus was just helping her put the last ornaments on the tree that stood in the library.

Looking at the tall pine, they smiled. Although Remus' smile was more for the delight that was evident on Tonks' tired features. "I'd say this calls for a celebratory toast." She nodded and followed him down to the kitchen.

He gathered the ingredients for his mother's special cocoa. She offered to help, but he gently insisted that she rest and wait for him. He became so absorbed in his task that he didn't notice her eyes' following his every move. Finally, he was ready and carried the tray over to the table, keeping the most important item hidden behind his back.

She took a cup, but her eyes narrowed in scrutiny. "What are you holding behind you?"

He grinned and brought out the bag of mini marshmallows. "I told you you had to try these in hot chocolate this year."

"So you did." She looked with slight trepidation at her mug as he let a few of the treats fall into it.

"It won't bite. I promise. Besides, I went through significant trouble to get these. Most marshmallows in Britain are too big to put in hot chocolate; I had to get the American kind."

She took a sip. He loved to see her face bear such a pleased expression. "You're right. That's the best drink I've ever had." The next time she took a much larger swig. "How have I lived without this for so long?"

"I have no idea." She reached for the bag and put a small handful of marshmallows into the remainder of her drink. "Don't you think there's such a thing as too much of a good thing?"

She didn't laugh or answer defiantly as he expected. Instead, she looked at him earnestly and replied, "No." Her face and voice grew so serious that he wondered what she was actually referring to. "I think too much of a good thing is a great thing."

He didn't know what to say to that. And now he really didn't think that she was talking about marshmallows and hot cocoa. "I disagree. For example, if you eat too much chocolate, you get sick. If you drink too much wine, you get a hangover. The list goes on."

Her smile returned slightly. "Hmm, maybe. But you don't eat the good thing I'm thinking of, so it can't make you sick. You don't drink it either, so it can't give you a hangover." She took another sip of cocoa.

"What good thing are you thinking of?"

"I'm not sure you're ready to hear it yet." Her teasing grin grew at the sight of his confused frown.

"Try me."

She looked at him steadily. Then, she stood from her chair and stepped closer to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Just remember that you asked for it." She kissed him, and after a few moments of surprise, he was kissing her back.

"I think you're wrong. I think too much of that good thing would be very dangerous. I'll never be able to concentrate on anything else now."

"Maybe that was my devious plan all along." The words were lightly spoken, but he sensed that she was telling him how much she really wanted this.

"It's a good thing I like devious women, or rather a certain devious woman." He kissed her again. He could taste the hot chocolate on her tongue, and he forgot to have doubts.

They spent the rest of the yuletide season trying every sort of marshmallow in all the hot chocolate formulations they could think of. Some were delicious and some were utterly nauseating, but all that mattered was that they were testing them together.

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"And that's the story of your mum and my first kiss." By the end of the tale, Teddy was looking slightly bored, but he still wore a quiet smile. Maura, Rhia, and Victoire were beaming as usual.

They were sitting on various chairs and sofas in the light of the tree. Everyone was drowsy from the Christmas Eve feast and the hot chocolate, with marshmallows, of course, that they always drank during the telling.

He had told the story the same way every Christmas Eve since Maura was old enough to request a tale and Teddy was still too young to be put off by disgusting things like kissing. He never really understood why they still asked to hear it every year because nothing remarkable happened in it (he had much more entertaining Christmas stories from his Marauder days), but he supposed it was just another tradition to add to their growing list.

And he didn't see any problem in that.