A/N: Oh my Merlin, I can't believe it took me 87 chapters to get to their wedding, which I've split up into 3 chapters, and I hope I did it justice and that you continue to enjoy this epic long fic, my lovely readers! :)


CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN

The night of his son's wedding was warm indeed. Lyall Lupin's strangely pallid eyes stared on at the leaves of the unusually large oak tree, which provided adequate enough shade and was acting as a sort of awning for his son's wedding ceremony to commence in a few minutes.

The Forbidden Forest at twilight looked exotic and fiery like a midnight candle burning in the shadows, of this there was no denying it. A figure nudged beside him. Remus. He did not even have to look to his left to know it was his son.

His only son gave him an awkward little half-smile before bowing his head. "Dad," he murmured lowly, raising his head, and noticing as Sirius, his best friend and best man for this impromptu wedding ceremony of his son's, moved beside Remus. "I'm...grateful that you came," Remus said, a note of gratitude and affection laced in his tone.

Lyall chuckled. "Of course I come, son. You didn't seriously think I would miss your own wedding, did you?" he asked teasingly, his gaze flitting from his son to his son's best friend. It did not escape Lyall's attentions that Sirius Black continued cast flitting and distrusting looks towards renowned Magizoologist Newt Scamander and made a show of clutching onto his arm as though it was hurt.

Lyall quirked a brow at his son's best friend, though the dark-haired man and former Prisoner of Azkaban offered no explanation.

Newt and Dumbledore were practically arm-in-arm in deep conversation about Merlin knew only what that thing might be, with Dumbledore dressed in a set of immaculate dark blue dress robes, his beard secured with a band to keep out of the way.

Don't ask, his son's eyes seemed to tell him when Lyall swiveled his head back around to regard Remus and ask after Sirius Black's strange behavior toward Newt, and this command was solidified by a curt shake of Remus's head, and Lyall gazed at Remus.

There was something within Remus that Lyall knew he needed to mend as his father, although he knew that whatever it was, he couldn't. Whatever was ailing his only son was his burden to bear, as much as he might wish that he could help Remus with whatever was troubling him.

When Remus lifted his gaze and met Lyall's eyes with his own, he could still see the small child of five years old that he was some thirty years ago: small and gaunt, trembling with tears following the aftermath of Fenrir Greyback's attack, clutching onto his dad's shirt with scrawny fingers.

Lyall was also aware too that even by marrying this bright young witch who was carrying his son's child, that it would not suffice the angst in his heart that Remus had grown used to over the last thirty years, often so melancholia and depressed over the nature of his condition, thinking himself unclean and unworthy of a woman's affections. At least not completely.

He hates Greyback for what he's done to him, Lyall thought as he looked upon his son. He will die hating Fenrir unless he gets to kill him first, he thought, mulling it over. So, he decided that tonight, as he was most other nights, he would proud of Remus.

It wasn't every day that his only son got married, and he sincerely wished that Hope were here to see this. But Merlin, if only Hope were still alive, he had no doubt, she would already be shedding tears for their son and his new wife, and the ceremony hadn't even commenced yet.

Lyall offered Remus what he hoped was a kind enough smile and held onto his son by his shoulder and with it, poured his delight that his son was about to be married and in time, become a father to his first grandson or granddaughter.

Tonight, Remus looked regal as he possibly could, having gotten Sirius's help in acquiring a pair of black dress robes, his own, Lyall learned when he had inquired where Remus had gotten them when he'd asked, and they looked slightly worn, but well cared for. Molly Weasley had taken great pains in trimming his son's light brown hair, ensuring that not a strand was out of place or uneven.

Lyall almost swore he was looking at his younger self, except that his eyes were a darker brown, and Remus's a lighter brown in color, having inherited his mother's eyes. Lyall stifled a small snort as he watched Remus glance down at his robes with furrowed brows, seizing a handful of his black robes and scrutinizing them carefully.

"What about now, Sirius?" Remus murmured, turning towards his best friend and best man, who looked as though he were fighting back the urge to laugh and roll his eyes.

Lyall sighed and moved off to stand underneath an elm tree next to Newt, who had been tasked with maintaining the security of Remus and Tonks's gold wedding rings, who was heavily in conversation with two little green Bowtruckles, who appeared to be fighting over the plain rings in Newt's hand, each Bowtruckle blowing raspberries and fighting with each other in a fierce competition for guardianship of the pieces of jewelry.

Lyall chuckled. "The way these two are behaving over those things, you'd think they were Nifflers," he joked, recognizing Remus's fiancée's Bowtruckle, she called it Ptelea, if his memory served him correctly.

Newt Scamander nodded, his lips pursed into a thin line and an unusually stern look on his face as he scowled at the tiny creatures on top of his hand as he heaved a tired and haggard sigh at listening to the squeaking protests of the feuding Bowtruckles over possession of the rings.

"Yes, and this behavior is entirely beneath them both. Pickett was never quite like this in his prime when he was younger, so I don't know where Miss Tonks's Bowtruckle learned such atrocious behavior and orneriness. Ptelea, stop this!" he scolded.

Ptelea responded in kind to Newt's scolding by shooting him what Lyall could only presume to be an incredulous look as his beady black little eyes widened and he looked offended, and old Pickett, though his leaves were browned and drooping now in his old age, had such a smirk on its green face and a look of triumph that Tonks's Bowtruckle could not help but blow one last raspberry at it, squeaking in frustration and trying its very hardest to trip up Pickett where the two Bowtruckles rested on the palm of Newt's outstretched hand.

Ptelea, spotting Remus standing next to Sirius, had decided he had had enough of Pickett's smug attitude and thought Lupin a better perch. Tonks's Bowtruckle narrowed its beady eyes and shot Pickett one last distrusting look before hopping up onto Remus's outstretched hand, who'd come over to investigate the series of squeaking's and chirpings, no doubt to see what on Merlin's earth was wrong with them both.

Remus chuckled as Ptelea hopped up onto his shoulder, letting out a squeak of offense and sheer indignation as it blew one last raspberry towards old Pickett, who was, as it turned out, according to Newt Scamander when asked, Ptelea's grandfather, of sorts.

Lyall sighed and shook his head in disbelief, clapping his son on the shoulder and steering him back towards Sirius and Dumbledore, though it did not escape his attention that Remus continued to cast nervous glances towards the lane in the woods that Dumbledore had lighted magically with a pair of lamps where the bride was supposed to float over and be given away.

Remus frowned. "It's taking her a while, don't you think?"

Ptelea squeaked and offered a nod in response, one of the leaves off the top of his head brushing against Remus's cheek, which Lyall thought strangely endearing of the little woodland creature, almost as if his fiancée's Bowtruckle was trying to reassure him.

"She will come, son," Lyall insisted, Remus not aware that Lyall could practically smell the man's worry that seemed like it was emanating off of his nervous aura in waves.

Though Remus's eyes were fixed, looking on the lane, his light brown eyes that were so very much like Hope's beginning to grimace in a sudden fit of nervous anxiety.

And then, his son's best man and friend was there beside him. Sirius.

Sirius Black cast a wary, distrusting glance towards Newt Scamander, whose own Bowtruckle now rested on top of his tuft of thick white hair and had moved to stand next to Arthur Weasley and Nymphadora Tonks's best friend, a young chap by the name of Ollie, who had murmured something under his breath about Arthur's wife, Molly, being thoroughly disgruntled and put out that they couldn't host their wedding at the Burrow.

Remus had painstakingly tried to reassure the matronly, ginger-haired witch that once their mission in the Forbidden Forest was over, and Dolores Jane Umbridge was rescued from the herd of centaurs, the two of them would, if Molly was willing, host a party, a proper wedding reception, at the Burrow, if Molly and Arthur would have them both.

Sensing that his son needed a moment alone with his best friend, Lyall murmured something inaudible under his breath, motioning with a wave of his arm for Arthur, Ollie, Newt, and Dumbledore to join him, who had moved to stand beside Sirius and Remus.

The Hogwarts Headmaster reached out a slightly warbling but somehow, still steady hand and gave Remus's shoulder a light squeeze, twinkling at his son over the rims of his half-moon spectacles. "You still have the gift I gave you earlier in my office, yes?"

Remus blinked owlishly at Professor Dumbledore, before offering a quick nod and dipping into the pocket of his black robes and holding out the small unfamiliar object in the flat of his palm.

"Yes, Professor," he murmured lowly, bowing his head slightly. "But…what is it?" Lupin asked, confusion laced throughout his quiet and reserved tone.

Albus, never one to reveal a well-kept secret what most would consider the 'normal' way, did not offer a response, at least not at first, and instead, shot his son a coy little wink that even now, had piqued Lyall's curiosity, though he dared not linger here.

"Three turns ought to do it, Mr. Lupin," was all Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling with something akin to amusement in his voice as he strode forward to join the others to allow the groom a moment of privacy alone with Sirius. "You will see for yourself…"

Professor Dumbledore said nothing further on the matter, which irked Remus to no end and sent his blood briefly aflame, though Lupin offered up no verbal follow-up.

Remus sighed as he watched the small congregation who had come to bear witness to his own wedding disappear around the bend of the Forbidden Forest, and he could not help but feel a sense of relief. As long as Dumbledore was here, they'd not get lost.

Lupin sighed and glanced down at his dress robes, his brow furrowing, and his wand hand curled tightly into a fist over his wand, the other clutching tightly onto Dumbledore's loaned wedding gift, whatever this strange little object in his hand was.

"What about now, Sirius?" he murmured in a disbelieving tone. "Did I…did I miss a spot?" he growled in annoyance before lifting his chin to meet his best man's gaze.

"Moony," Sirius snorted, shaking his head and stepping back to give Remus's towering form a quick once-over in his set of black dress robes, a small but gentle smile upon his rugged and handsome features, some form of oil-slicked back in his hair and upon his closely-cropped beard to give it a healthy sheen, "if your black robes were any straighter or your boots shined even further, I'd almost mistake you for a Death Eater. I don't think I've ever seen you wear this much black before in your life, Remus," he joked.

Sirius had spent the better part of a half-hour going over Moony's robes with his wand, straightening every hem and crevice, making sure that his best friend looked as presentable as he was going to get before Remus married his baby cousin, also while going over the lines that he was required to say during the ceremony, as well as a few words that Moony wished to say himself to Tonks, though he didn't speak those aloud.

To engage Remus in conversation, Sirius sighed and brushed away a stray leaf that had fallen overheard off one of the boughs of the tree that they were standing under off Moony's shoulder.

"You know my baby cousin looks at you like nothing else exists half the time," Sirius began, somewhat hesitantly, not exactly teasing, but not entirely serious.

Sirius instantly recognized this look. It appeared on his best mate's face whenever Nymphadora Tonks was mentioned, though he supposed after tonight, he'd have to call her Mrs. Lupin.

He frowned, wondering if Tonks was going to bother changing her name. he hadn't exactly asked his cousin, and Remus hadn't said a word about her name.

Sirius's own expression immediately softened, and he reached out a hand and gave Moony's shoulder a light little squeeze, watching as Lupin's pale face flared to life and became crimson as a light, pink blush speckled along the flustered man's scarred cheeks.

He couldn't stop the grin that formed. "Have you told Tonks yet?" His query prompted Remus's blush, if it was at all possible, to deepen, and Remus ducked his head away from his friend's piercing gray gaze and hid behind that one stubborn lock of coarse light hair, that one bang that never failed to get into his eye, no matter how short Mrs. Weasley managed to cut it off.

"Not since…" Remus's voice trailed off. Since the night that he had almost lost her, and the night by the Black Lake following the almost-drowning of Dora over Sirius's brother's locket, Lupin found that he could not say those three simple words he had once confessed to Tonks, right before the two of them spent that time in each other's embrace.

For whatever reason, he couldn't manage to bring himself to say it. He'd found other ways to express his love for the young Auror who'd captured his heart, but he couldn't bring himself to say it, much to his chagrin and Dora's unspoken disappointment.

To him, they carried far too much weight to be taken so lightly and for granted. To Remus, the simple three-word statement was the most intimate of words and he was not about to take them lightly, as his parents had always told him growing up.

He wanted to wait for the perfect moment to speak those words to Tonks, and he'd been constantly searching for that perfect time ever since they had entered into a romantic relationship following their rather rocky start as partners in the Order.

Yet, no matter how close he came, Remus still could not bring himself to say it to Tonks at all.

"It is all right," a new voice spoke up behind him, and both Sirius and Remus swiveled around on their heels to regard the new arrival, the tension in their shoulders leaving them when they saw it was only Ollie, dressed in a pair of black dress robes that he seemed to drown in, though that was due to his thin and emaciated frame from struggling to gain back the weight he had lost while in captivity under Barty Crouch.

Ollie Brennan's calm voice broke through Lupin's inner musings and brought him back to the present. Ollie offered Remus and Sirius a small half-smile that was more like a smirk, reaching out and giving Lupin's shoulder a small squeeze and offering a tiny nod to Ptelea, who was still perched on Remus's shoulder while they waited for his bride.

Ptelea squeaked in happiness at seeing Tonks's best friend and offered Ollie a shy little wave.

Ollie chuckled and returned his attention to Remus. "I understand. I—I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I—I cannot help it," he murmured, a pink blush speckling along his cheeks and he dipped his head, ashamed of his natural-born Legilimency. "Y—you will get there in time. Tonks knows that you care for her. More than anything. Don't push yourself. When the time is right to tell her how you feel, you'll just know it, sir."

Lupin turned his head slightly and flicked back that damned stubborn lock of his hair, offering his new friend and Dora's former partner a white, kind smile.

"Thank you, Ollie."

And with those words, he reached forward and enveloped the younger man in a light hug, almost crushing him as he inadvertently used a little of the Wolf's strength within, and Ollie's breath left his lungs before he could even part his lips to speak up.

Ollie flinched ever so slightly at the sheer amount of strength Remus possessed in which the older man was embracing him, yet he smiled up at the man and returned it.

He was glad that the two of them could come to a reconciliation and a mutual understanding with one another. It had taken upwards of a few weeks for Remus to fully trust Ollie completely, especially as he had to learn how to deal with his feelings of jealousy towards Ollie, fearing that the former Slytherin and Dora's best friend would take advantage of Dora by forcing her hand and demanding that the young witch choose.

Remus had not been able to stop the feelings of loathing and self-hatred towards himself and he'd done himself a great disservice by comparing himself to Ollie Brennan, thinking that Tonks would be better off with a younger, more wholesome man like him.

Yet, it had been Ollie and Molly and Arthur who had shown him just how much he was worth in Dora's eyes. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley said he'd been taking a ridiculous stance on this all along and used their son Bill as an example in claiming that young and whole men did not necessarily always remain so, and it was Ollie who'd helped him realize that if Dora had really wanted another wizard in her life as her future husband, she would have pursued someone else a long time and would have left Remus for him.

But she had not done it, though Lupin had fully expected her to, and would not have blamed Tonks if she had. Yet, Tonks had remained firm and steadfast by his side.

She had chosen him. "You know," Ollie winced in a half-gasping, choking, hoarse voice as he tugged futilely at Lupin's shoulders in an effort to get the man to relinquish his grip, effectively breaking Remus once again out of his string of musings. "I—if you keep…holding onto me like this, Lupin, you'll be late for your own wedding."

"Sorry!" Remus immediately apologized and released the younger man from his hold, biting the inside wall of his cheek, not realizing the Wolf within him had come out.

Lupin looked away, embarrassed, and refocused his attention on the woodland path in front of him, where hopefully, any minute, his bride would appear at his side. He sighed and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, unable to keep still.

Ollie eyed the werewolf tiredly with a look of exasperation on his face, before thumping his palm down from his forehead and alongside his face.

This had to be the tenth time that Remus Lupin had let out a sigh like that and had shifted his footing in anticipation. Everyone was already gathered, standing near the forest path's clearing, waiting for the bride to make her entrance.

Lupin, with Sirius to his left, and Ollie at the right, stood at the far end of the forest's path, with Dumbledore standing dead in the center. Less than a dozen had gathered in the Forbidden Forest to bear witness to the werewolf and the Auror's union, though it was small, quiet, and intimate, the way that they wanted, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had already insisted on throwing them a bash back at the Burrow, later, when things calmed down.

After we get Umbridge, Ollie thought, biting the inside wall of his cheek, perfectly content to let the hag rot in here. Though Tonks, the noble and loyal witch that she was, wouldn't let that happen.

With a scrutinizing gaze, Ollie let his blue eyes wander the small crowd that had congregated, searching for any familiar faces that he recognized.

There was Norah, who continued to shoot him interested little glances out of the corner of his eye when she thought he wasn't looking, which sent a swell of warmth to his chest he couldn't explain, and then there was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who had, in his Hogwarts days, gone out of their way to ensure that whenever he visited Charlie at the Burrow, he was welcomed like family.

"How much longer, do you think?" Lupin leaned over as far as he was able without drawing any unwanted attention to whisper his concern into Ollie's right ear. "You don't think Tonks ran from me, do you, Ollie?" he demanded, sounding nervous.

At that, Ollie did let out a snort and resisted the urge to roll his eyes at such a stupid question. Instead, his gaze remained fixated on the woodland path. "No, Lupin, don't be a blind, bloody fool. Tonks loves you. She will be here, Remus. Just wait…"

"But how can you be so sure?" Lupin persisted hotly, his hands clenching and un-clenching into fists as his sides, as though the werewolf was not sure what to do with them. The worry in his voice was steadily growing, and Ollie didn't know what to say.

Ollie staggered backward slightly, looking rather winded and wide-eyed, wincing, and rubbing his right bicep in pain, though he was quick to shake it off as he noticed the arrival of Professor Dumbledore and the others.

"Come on, it's time," Ollie murmured lowly. Sirius nodded his agreement, and with a wave of his arm bade Remus follow him.

Lupin exhaled nervously through his nose, running a hand through his hair and straightening the front of his dress robes, ignoring Sirius's claims that his best friend believed that Remus's rough, but neatly trimmed and close-cropped beard needed trimming, though Remus was inclined to believe that it was fine and chose to leave it. Lupin swayed a little with nervousness and exhaustion, breathing in a final steadying breath.

"Time to go make a fool of yourself, Moony," he whispered under his breath.

Though despite his words, he sincerely hoped he wouldn't. Not in front of her. With each step forward as he followed Ollie and Sirius towards the gnarled old elm tree that was acting as his and Dora's awning of sorts, he could no longer quell the swooping sensation in the pit of his churning stomach or his nervousness.

Professor Dumbledore stood in wait, his withered hands clasped neatly in front of him clutching onto his wand, and the Hogwarts Headmaster shot Remus a soft, kind smile.

It was time.