A/N: Well, I was able to update within two weeks, which should make some of you pretty happy. Thanks to everyone who's been super-supportive over the past few weeks with the computer issue and all. It looks like it's going to be in the shop for another week or so, but hopefully I'll get it back and I'll be able to write really quickly and - more importantly - in my own room!
Amy, as always, you are an inspiration and an absolute dream. I honestly don't know where I'd be without you. Lost in pompous prose, probably. :-)
Chapter Twenty-One: A Wedding at Last
"I think I'm going to be sick," Hermione said as she stared blankly at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She could have sworn she was turning a most unbecoming shade of green.
"It's just nerves," Ginny assured her soothingly. "You'll be just fine."
"Oh, I don't know why we decided on this dress. I look like an overgrown meringue with purple splotches."
"Stop being silly. You look lovely," Tonks argued, her hair the exact shade of lavender as her dress.
"I really think I'm going to be sick. Maybe we should postpone."
"Oh, honestly, you great drama queen, it's a wedding, not a funeral, and the marriage isn't even real. So shut up because you look gorgeous and if you do get sick, it's not like it's going to change anything."
Hermione shot her cousin a glare but Emily brushed it off as she avoided Hermione's eye by smoothing the non-existent creases out of the dress that Luna had happily-relinquished just hours beforehand.
"You can be replaced, you know," Hermione half-teased, taking a deep breath and looking back at her reflection.
Emily grinned at her through the mirror.
"You wouldn't replace me. I know too much. I'm a liability if you take away the bridesmaid dress."
Hermione smiled slightly in spite of herself as she willed a less-judgmental eye to assess her appearance. She had to admit that she felt beautiful in the dress. The silk kissed her skin and the cut contoured her body perfectly. The ivory colour and lavender accents set off the milky paleness of her skin and drew out the soft peach-pink tone to radiate in the sunlight that now filtered through the window. Ginny had helped her with her make-up while Emily – having spent most of her childhood acquainted with the rebellious nature of Hermione's curls – had styled the wild waves into a stunning up-do, complete with gentle tendrils that framed Hermione's face.
In short, the woman who had spent twenty-one years avoiding commitment suddenly looked every inch the beautiful blushing bride.
"You really do look stunning, 'Mione," Emily said as Hermione turned to face her three bridesmaids.
"Thank you," Hermione replied, a sincere smile on her face. "For everything. This day couldn't have happened without you."
"Now now, don't give us all the credit," Ginny said with a wicked grin. "After all, we must thank the Ministry for its small part in today's upcoming events."
"Speaking of which," Tonks said. "Charlie's with the Ministry liaison as well as a photographer from the Daily Prophet, and he told me to tell you that he'll make sure they stay in line."
Hermione chuckled at the image of the physically imposing redhead as he kept watch over what she was sure to be a couple of pasty administrative types. The image seemed to make the day a little less daunting.
"'Mione," Emily said, smiling softly. "Aunt Helen wanted a moment alone, so we're going to wait in the foyer, alright?"
Hermione took a deep breath.
"Yeah, alright."
Emily gave her a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek before walking out. Ginny, her eyes already starting to water, threw her arms around Hermione's neck and hugged her tightly, which would have been endearing had the bride-to-be been allowed to breathe.
"Ginny…" Hermione managed to gasp, wrenching herself from Ginny's iron grip.
"I'm sorry," Ginny said tearfully. "I'm glad I put that charm on my make-up."
Hermione chuckled.
"As Emily said, it's my wedding, not my funeral. Can we please remember that?"
"She knows," Tonks said, pushing the blubbering redhead toward the door. Giving Hermione the secret smile that they used to share while dating, Tonks leaned in and brushed her lips gently over Hermione's in a ghost of a kiss. "You're gorgeous, babe."
With a wink, she turned and nudged Ginny out of the room as Hermione waited for her mother, both relieved and terrified that the day had come at last.
"Sweetheart?" Helen said, and Hermione looked up to see her mother standing in the doorway, her pale green mother-of-the-bride suit bringing out the jade in her eyes.
Those eyes were now filling with tears as she walked across the room to hug her only child tightly to her, the strength of her embrace conveying her reluctance to release the young woman. Hermione wished her own eyes could shimmer with bravely concealed tears, but despite the clamour of emotions within her, Hermione's eyes remained stubbornly dry.
"You look beautiful, darling," Helen said when she finally pulled back to survey her daughter. "Like a fairy tale princess."
"Thanks, Mum," Hermione replied.
"I…er…I know some mothers would use this time to tell you all the mystical wonders you'll discover on your wedding night, but…well…I think that ship sailed awhile back. I'm not naïve enough to think…" Helen paused, trying to figure out how to say her thoughts tactfully, but after a few seconds she sighed with a smile. "Well…I hardly think you need that lecture anymore."
Hermione blushed.
"It's not necessarily something that will be very present in Sirius and my marriage, Mum," she mumbled.
"Darling, I know this isn't the most ideal circumstance for a marriage, but you should learn to treat it like one. After all, if the law isn't revoked a year from now, you and Sirius will have to have a child together."
Hermione frowned.
"How did you know…"
"Arthur showed your father and I the law and all its amendments."
Hermione blanched.
"So Dad knows that…that Sirius and I have to…"
"Consummate the marriage?" Helen finished, slightly amused by her daughter's stricken look. "Believe it or not, sweetheart, your father expected a sexual relationship between you and Sirius long before he knew of the law's stipulations."
"What?!" Hermione cried, horror-struck.
Helen chuckled.
"The electricity between the two of you is palpable, my dear."
Hermione said nothing, feeling the odd ache return to her stomach.
"You need to cherish Sirius, Hermione," Helen continued, taking her daughter's hands. "You could do much worse than him in this situation and I know he cares about you…perhaps even more than he admits. I'm honoured to have him as a son-in-law and possible father of my grandchildren, and not because he's smart and kind and handsome, but because of how you are when you're with him. He makes you happy, darling…perhaps even more than you admit."
"Mum, it's all an act. Really."
Helen smiled.
"No actor in the world could feign the way you two look at each other."
Hermione frowned as she processed these words and her mother leaned in to kiss her gently on the furrowed crease of her forehead.
"Now," Helen said, walking over to a bag in the corner. "Ginny said you had something new, something borrowed, and something blue, yes?"
"Er…yes," Hermione said, shaking herself out of her confused haze. "Emily gave me a necklace this morning as a wedding present, Ginny lent me a lace handkerchief, and Tonks made me wear blue underwear."
Helen chuckled.
"Well, I have your 'something old'," she said, and pulled a large wooden box from the bag. Opening it towards Hermione, the bride gasped and looked in wide-eyed shock at her smiling mother.
Nestled in a bed of white satin lay a beautiful silver tiara that was encrusted with brilliant diamonds. Folded next to it was a veil of fine lace, so delicate that Hermione was afraid to touch it.
"I know you said you didn't want a veil, but it came with the tiara," Helen said, setting the box on the dressing table and turning Hermione towards the mirror. "This was your great-great-grandmother's wedding tiara. She was the last Duchess of Warrington. I know, I know, I'm not overly fond of the title, but there you go."
She lifted the tiara out of the box and fixed it securely to Hermione's hair. Hermione didn't dare breathe for fear that it would fall and shatter into a million pieces.
"I had to get this from Hermia while still telling her that she couldn't come to the wedding. That was a bit of an issue, I must say."
"What did you tell her?" Hermione asked, watching as Helen lifted the lace out of the box.
"I told her," she said while carefully draping the lace over Hermione's face and head. "That Sirius was unsure he wanted a big wedding and that you suggested an elopement. So your father and I are going to pretend we're in Biarritz with you this weekend."
Hermione chuckled at the thought of her aunt's envy that she was eloping in the French Riviera, but went very quiet when her mother stepped back and she saw the full effect of the tiara, veil, and dress all together.
"I think you're ready," Helen said as Hermione stared at her own reflection, hardly able to comprehend that the woman staring back at her was, indeed, herself and not some trick of the eye.
"Yes," Hermione finally said. "Yes, I think I am."
~*~
"Sirius, will you calm down," Harry hissed as he stood next to his anxiety-ridden godfather.
"I'm gonna kill him," Sirius was mumbling murderously as he bounced on the soles of his feet. "I'm absolutely going to kill him."
"I'm going to kill Hermione for making me wear bloody purple," Ron grunted, smoothing out his lavender waistcoat with a grimace.
"Luna said she thinks you look regal in purple," Harry said, shooting a friendly smile to Luna, who was sitting in the second row next to Mrs. Weasley. She was looking as ethereal as always but Harry had to smile as the orange radish earrings and butterbeer cork necklace clashed fantastically with the bright pink dress and oversized yellow hat she wore.
"Yeah, well," Ron said as he glanced at his fiancée. "She also believes in creatures like Nargles and thinks a bite from a garden gnome is good luck. I mean…I love her to death, Harry, but there are just some things you don't trust her opinion on."
Harry chuckled before turning his attention back to the increasingly agitated Marauder.
"I don't know how he could do this to me," Sirius muttered, uncaring if anyone was listening or not. "He's supposed to be my best mate and he just disappears…"
"Sirius," Harry said calmly. "He had to go to the loo. He'll be right back."
"But now? I mean…the service isn't going to be too long. He couldn't have waited?"
"He has twenty minutes before the service starts! He has time."
"Yeah, but…well…these outfits are tricky…lots of buttons…"
"Sirius," Harry said firmly. "I'm sure Lupin is quite capable of identifying the amount of time he'll need to accomplish what he needs to accomplish."
"Alright. But he better have washed his hands!"
Harry and Ron exchanged a look.
A few moments later, Remus appeared and walked up to rejoin them.
"There you are!" Sirius said, casting his best friend a glare. "What took you so long?!"
Remus arched an eyebrow.
"Do you want a detailed account, or can I just say there was a line and you'll take me at my word?"
"A line? There are six other bathrooms in the house! You couldn't have used one of them?"
"I was unaware you were timing me."
"He was concerned about your buttons," Ron said.
"My what?"
"Okay, this conversation is bordering on the idiotic," Harry said.
Ron scoffed.
"Bordering?"
Sirius glared at him.
"Remind me again why you're here?"
Ron grinned.
"Moral support, mate."
"I'll show you moral…"
"Sirius," Remus said, grabbing his friend's shoulders. "Get a grip, because you've gone 'round the bend."
Sirius took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. His stomach, however, refused to cooperate as a swarm of hyperactive butterflies settled in, wreaking havoc on his nerves. The butterflies – or rather, the rush of nerves – had been threatening their presence for the past week or so, even visiting him for a good fifteen minutes the night before when Hermione's lips had grazed his cheek. But the malicious Monarchs had appeared when he awoke that morning and would not release him from their fluttering grasp.
"Mr. Black?" a voice said and Sirius turned to see Professor McGonagall walking down the aisle with a familiar, friendly face Sirius was not expecting.
"Mr. Andrews! Lovely to see you," Sirius said to the smiling man as he approached him, taking his hand with a hearty shake. "I didn't know you were coming. Not that I mind, of course, but…"
"Albus asked Henry to officiate the ceremony today, Sirius," Professor McGonagall explained. "We couldn't get a Ministry officiate that we trusted on such short notice."
"Will it be legal?" Sirius asked worriedly.
Henry chuckled.
"Don't worry, son. There are still good people working at the Ministry. I'm all cleared to perform the ceremony and the Ministry liaison they've sent today, Mr. Crisp, knows all about it. Everything's in order."
Sirius breathed a little easier.
"Mr. Andrews," he said. "May I present my lieutenants for the day? Remus Lupin, Ronald Weasley, and my godson, Harry Potter."
"Of course," Henry said, his eyes twinkling merrily as he shook each of their hands. "An honour, gentlemen. Henry Andrews, at your service."
"So…er…Mr. Andrews. How is it that we've never met before?" Harry asked, slightly suspicious of this new face he had never seen and new name he had never heard before aside from Hermione's passing description.
"Harry," Sirius said in mild reproach but Henry smiled.
"A fair question, Mr. Potter, and one that is right to ask in these days of trouble. We have never met because I am not officially part of the Order. My wife's a Squib, you see, and I don't feel comfortable putting myself in a position of risk when she cannot defend herself."
"And yet you knew Dumbledore?" Ron asked.
"Yes. I was Albus's solicitor for years. I also have the great fortune of being his and Aberforth's cousin."
Sirius looked at him in surprise.
"Really?"
Henry chuckled.
"Yes. Of course, I don't possess even half of Albus's brains, but I'm no fool either."
"No," Remus said with a slight smile. "I don't suppose you are."
Henry winked.
"Albus spoke very highly of you all," he said, slightly wistful. "I'm sure he would have loved to be here today."
"I'm not entirely sure he isn't," Sirius murmured, his nerves starting to return.
Henry chuckled.
"Very true, Mr. Black. He always did seem to be everywhere."
The light nostalgia that seemed to hang in the air was suddenly dispersed by the sound of music. Sirius swallowed hard, trying to shake off the anxiety – to pretend that it was just the butterflies of stage fright he sometimes got when he had to slip into the title role of easy lover – but each passing moment was making it harder. He could feel his control over his emotions for the woman he was about to marry become more and more complicated with every note of the bridal march.
And then, there she was.
Sirius didn't know whether he actually stopped breathing or if he just thought he did, but somewhere between her appearing and the seconds that followed, he forgot to breathe. She was – for lack of a better term – absolutely breath-taking.
She was walking toward him with the sun shining lightly behind her, making her glow. The dress looked like it was an extension of her body. Sunlight glinted off the tiara, haloing her head. But her eyes – those big hazel pools that he was starting to feel like he could drown in – were fixed on him and suddenly all the anxiety was gone. It was just the two of them and no one else.
The service seemed to fly by as he held her hands in his, not taking his eyes off her for one second. He could see a faint blush developing under his gaze but he didn't care. Sham marriage though this was, he knew that his feelings for her were beyond those of a caring friend. He wasn't in love with her – he was still certain he was incapable of actually falling in love with anyone, damaged as he was – but he also knew that he could slip too easily into the role of doting fiancé.
The role he played now was passionate lover. That should keep her entertained.
Hermione watched, fascinated, at the change that came over Sirius's face as he watched her. One half of her brain still carried her mother's words – and their meaning – and scared her to death but the other half was trying very hard not to swoon. His gaze was penetrating and his eyes were dark with a sexual heat that she didn't know what to make of. He had gone from doting to scorching in mere seconds and her head was spinning slightly at the drastic change.
"You may now kiss the bride."
Sirius's hands were gently lifting her veil before she had time to process that she was now officially married. As her vision cleared, she saw him grin cheekily at her before lowering his lips to hers in a soft, chaste kiss – barely enough to cause a stir. The brief contact, however, sent a thrill down her spine and memories of just how good his body had felt pressed against hers when they had first seen the house filtered through her brain. Considering all that had happened, it seemed so long ago, but it had only been a fortnight.
Two weeks, and she was already feeling things she had thought buried for the rest of her life.
Damn him.
Reality brought her back to the fact that everyone in the crowd was on their feet cheering, and Sirius was smiling that sexy half-grin at her that was starting to make her knees slightly weak. She smiled back, slipping into her role with a grace that was becoming almost too comfortable, as they walked down the aisle as man and wife.
"You alright, kitten?" Sirius asked as they moved through the crowd.
"Yeah. It's just weird. We're finally married," she replied, not trusting herself to look at him.
"I know. Who would have thought that we would end up married. To each other, no less!" he teased and she breathed a sigh of relief as they fell back into the easy comfort they had had before.
Mrs. Weasley had already set up a lavish buffet in the kitchen and having inhaled the scent of food all morning with no appetite, Hermione found herself starving. Chuckling at her enthusiasm, Sirius handed her a plate and gallantly allowed her room to go through the trays of food before the rush set in. Hermione hadn't understood the need for everything to happen so quickly, but both Mrs. Weasley and Professor McGonagall had told Hermione that she and Sirius would have to leave for their honeymoon within a few hours of the wedding if they were to get there in time to make the deadline on the consummation clause, and Hermione wasn't about to tempt fate with that particular issue.
Though Hermione was fairly certain that they could have just as easily fulfilled the requirements in their own bed, – or any other location, for that matter – everyone seemed absolutely insistent that everything appear as though all pains had been taken to ensure a long and romantic honeymoon, so she went along with it.
It didn't help that Hermione was still in the dark about the location, though.
"So," Hermione said, trying to swallow a mouthful of snap peas as Sirius sat next to her at the bridal table that Bill and Charlie had conjured up in the three minutes it had taken for everyone to vacate their seats and head towards the food. "Are you going to tell me where you're taking me this evening?"
He smirked.
"Why ruin a beautiful surprise?"
She rolled her eyes.
"You know Ginny's going to drink too much and let it spill, right?"
"Excuse me," Ginny said at her elbow, sitting next to her friend with an indignant glare. "I don't happen to know where he's whisking you off to, but knowing Sirius it's somewhere fabulous, so shut up and enjoy your reception."
"Here here!" Emily toasted, lifting her glass of champagne that she had seized from the liquor table the moment the ceremony was over.
"Some friends you are," Hermione grumbled, but after another bite of her food she found herself less annoyed by the situation, choosing instead to be amused as Bill, Charlie, Fred and George ducked around the moving guests as they tried to set up the tables, chairs, and a dance floor at the same time.
"Bloody hell," Ron said as a chair went whizzing over his head, his hair tousled by the residual breeze. "Good thing we're at the wedding party table, eh? Someone could get killed with those four trying to organize the place."
"So now you're happy with being in the wedding party," Harry teased, ducking good-naturedly as another chair flew overhead. "Just a few minutes ago you were all complaints."
"Really?" Hermione asked mildly, the mischievous glint back in her eye now that she had eaten something.
"Well," Ron said, turning slightly pink and pretending to be engrossed with his Beef Wellington. "You know…pre-wedding jitters."
"No, Ron, that's my excuse," Sirius said with a laugh. "I believe you were muttering murderous thoughts about my wife. Something about disliking the colour of your waistcoat."
"Yeah, well, it's purple, in'it?" Ron said, trying to save face as Harry, Remus, and Sirius started chuckling. "What self-respecting bloke wears…purple…" He trailed off as he saw the Ministry liaison turn to him with a glare, pompously fluffing his purple dress robes as he spoke with Professor McGonagall.
Once Mr. Weasley had come out to manage the disorganized palaver his elder sons had created, the wedding guests spread out to the various tables, passing by the wedding party's table with words of congratulation and encouragement and soon, Fred and George were standing in the centre of the dance floor, ready to start their duties as co-emcees.
"Ladies and gentlemen, witches and wizards, please welcome the bride and groom in their first dance as man and shackles…I mean…wife," Fred said, grinning angelically as Hermione sent a mock glare to him.
"You know what, kitten," Sirius said softly as he drew her to him, moving them around the dance floor to the music. "I think you make about the prettiest fake bride I've ever seen."
Hermione laughed.
"I would tell you that you're very handsome but I suspect you've been telling yourself that since you put on the suit," she teased, tilting her head up to look him in the eye.
He smirked.
"I never turn down a compliment, kitten."
She rolled her eyes.
"I'm not going to tell you what you want to hear, Sirius. That's not how this marriage is going to work."
"Oh really?" he said with a grin, dipping her and receiving applause for his grace. "Married for five minutes and you're already dictating terms. Awfully brave of you, Mrs. Black."
"Granger-Black, if you please."
He smirked again.
"Well," he said, his eyes flashing with dark desire once more. "Feel free to boss me around any time you want, my dear."
Hermione felt her breath leave her as he swung her around, twirling her dangerously and cocking his eyebrow.
"What on earth has gotten into you?" she whispered.
He gave her a wink.
"Just eager anticipation, kitten."
She chuckled.
"It's just sex, Sirius."
"But it's sex with you, kitten. I admit I've been curious."
She gave a sly smile.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't too."
"Well then," he breathed as the music ended. "It looks to be a big night then, doesn't it? Hopefully more than just our curiosities will be satisfied."
~*~
It was almost time to leave, and Hermione suddenly felt a lead weight in her stomach.
Well, it wasn't exactly sudden. While most new brides spent their reception gazing lovingly at their wedding ring and marvelling at their decision to marry the man who had slipped it on them, Hermione found herself gazing at her wedding ring for another reason entirely. After her dance with Sirius, Hermione had taken one look at the silver ring on the fourth finger of her left hand and everything suddenly became horrifyingly real. For her, the ring marked the end of an era; the end of her single status; the end of her independence.
And she suddenly found she hated that ring.
The interesting thing was, she only hated it when Sirius wasn't around. When he was there with her, she found herself forgetting everything in the delicious wickedness he seemed to exude. Their exchanges – though brief – were brazen and bordered on definitively inappropriate for the gathering. Sirius was suddenly the Casanova she had heard about, and she was allowed to play the sultry temptress she was known to be. In an odd way, he comforted her with his casual discussion of their planned consummation. It was footing she was familiar with.
While he was performing the expected groom duties of dancing with the bridal party and the matriarchs attending, however, Hermione found herself concentrating on what would happen after they slept together. She was bound to Sirius. No matter what he said about allowing her the freedom she craved, she was still bound to him.
The law had made sure of that.
Now, sitting on her bed, she was starting to feel very tired. Tired of the charade she had been playing for the past month, and tired of the change that would require her to shift her character now that the wedding was over and the 'marriage' had begun. 'Wife' and 'future mother' were not roles Hermione had ever thought herself groomed for.
"'Mione!" Ginny called through the house and Hermione sighed. Sitting on her bed half-dressed and feeling sorry for herself was not how she wanted to be found by her best girl friend, especially when she had to leave for Merlin-knew-where in a few minutes.
"Hermione, what's wrong with you?" Ginny asked, coming into the bedroom with a glass of champagne just as Hermione was standing up. "You guys have to leave in a few minutes!"
"I know. I was just thinking."
"About what?"
Hermione shrugged.
"I just…I realized it, you know? I'm married."
Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Yeah but…well…not really, you know?"
"No," Hermione said distractedly. "No, I suppose not."
Ginny sighed, walking over to her friend and taking her head in her hands.
"Go and enjoy your honeymoon. Forget the marriage. You're going to have sex with Sirius Black tonight! Think what a notch on your bedpost he'll be!" she exclaimed, which caused Hermione to chuckle.
"I just wish I knew where we were going," she said.
"Wherever he's taking you, it's bound to be a place you'll enjoy, because he wouldn't have decided on that location if he didn't think you'd enjoy it. Now get dressed. He's waiting for you."
Sighing, Hermione let Ginny help her out of the wedding dress and into the sleek black trousers and lavender peasant top they had picked for the trip. Shrinking her suitcase down to a manageable size, Hermione walked down the stairs to the foyer where most of the guests had congregated to wish the happy couple good-bye.
Sirius was in deep discussion with a tall, fierce-looking man when Hermione approached him.
"Everything looks in order, Mr. Black. I just have a few routine questions before you leave."
"Of course, Mr. Crisp," Sirius replied tersely, clearly disliking the Ministry liaison.
"Obviously, you've petitioned the Ministry for permission for Miss Granger…I'm sorry, Mrs. Black…to travel abroad?"
"It's Mrs. Granger-Black, Mr. Crisp, and I was under the impression that if she was travelling with me, there would be no need for such permission."
"Ah, yes," the man said, writing something down on a piece of parchment.
"What's going on?" Hermione asked Sirius.
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Mrs. Black. Your husband and I will be done momentarily," Mr. Crisp said, barely giving her a second glance as the lilt of arrogance made Hermione bristle.
"As I've said once before, Mr. Crisp, it's Hermione Granger-Black. And my wife is as much a part of this conversation as I am and I would thank you to treat her with the respect that the Noble House of Black deserves," Sirius said, his aristocratic upbringing making the Ministry man tremble slightly.
"Yes…of course. So sorry, Mrs. Granger-Black. I'm just discussing a few things before you leave on your honeymoon."
"Yes, I gathered that much," Hermione huffed, crossing her arms.
"Yes…well…erm…I will be conducting your inspections when you return. Nothing to be alarmed by, just a few routine inspections in the first 12 months…"
"Yes, we've read the amendments," Sirius snapped. "We'll contact you when we get back. Anything else?"
"And how long will you and your wife be away on your honeymoon?"
"We'll be gone for a week."
"Lovely. And where will you be going?"
Sirius glanced at Hermione.
"I would rather not say. It's supposed to be a surprise for my wife, you see…"
"Mr. Black, the Ministry understands how important it is that you enjoy your marriage to its fullest, but in the event there's an issue, we need to be able to contact you."
"My wife works at the Ministry, Mr. Crisp. There will be people who will know how to get a hold of us if they need us."
"Mr. Black, again, I hate to be a nuisance, but under amendment 124d of the Marriage Law…"
"Sirius," Hermione said gently. "Just tell him."
Sirius sighed.
"We'll be in Venice."
Before I get those reviews, YES, next chapter will be the wedding night. I can hear all of you saying "Finally!" to your computer screens. Trust me, your relief is nothing compared to mind, as this sex scene has been burning through my brain for almost three months.
In the meantime, review please!