Saturday 28 December, 1996:
Lena could barely believe that the face in the mirror staring back at her was her own. It was still pale, yes, but she hadn't needed to use as much makeup as usual to hide the dark shadows under her eyes, or the sickly tinge the whole face held. She even looked less gaunt. She appeared almost... healthy. A regular twenty-one year old. Yet it had been less than three months since she had very nearly died.
Eight weeks ago, she had been discharged from the Hogwarts hospital wing by Madam Pomfrey. Her abdomen had still been a little tender, and her hands occasionally felt a twinge of pain, but she had recovered from her blood loss, and could finally walk without fear of collapsing. She had defied death yet again.
It was a relief to at last be free of the hospital gown, and wearing normal clothes again, even if it was taking a little bit of getting-used-to wearing jeans after almost five months of misshapen dresses.
Remus had brought the clothes when he'd visited the previous night, as well as one of her pairs of ankle-boots. Annoyingly, it was her favourite pair she had lost as a result of Voldemort's abduction. She wiggled her toes in the tan pair she was wearing now. They, like the jeans, felt strange, but comforting.
Sunlight streamed in through the hospital wing's windows, providing something of a balance to the cold autumn morning air. Lena sat on the edge of her bed, packed and ready to go, with Mortimer cosily curled up in the inner-pocket of her lightweight grey overcoat. She was waiting for Minerva to come and take her to her office to use the fireplace to Floo to a safe-house in which Dumbledore had arranged for her and Remus to stay until they found a more permanent residence.
As rough and unpleasant travelling by the Floo Network could be, it was a less dangerous alternative for a recovering Splinch-victim than Apparating or a Portkey. It had been made very clear to Lena that she was not allowed to attempt Apparating for another two weeks, and even then only relatively short distances – and definitely not without a wand.
The doors to the hospital wing began to open, and Lena quickly stood, grabbing the small bag that held the few possessions she had with her. But instead of being greeted by the sight of Minerva, it was Snape who entered.
"Minerva has been caught up with some administrative issues," he curtly addressed both Lena and Madam Pomfrey, who had come out of her office at the sound of the doors opening. "I will escort Miss Lestrange to the office for her departure."
Lena blinked in surprise, but simply turned to Madam Pomfrey to thank her one last time for the care she had received, and left with Snape. As they walked along the corridor, she eyed him in her peripheral vision, trying to remember the last time they had exchanged words. It occurred to her that although they had been at Order meetings together, the last time she had directly spoken to him was over a year ago – when he had expressed his distrust of her, and she had brought up his relationship with Lily Potter in response. And he had tried to strangle her.
"I understand you were trying to help Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey save me on the night of my arrival here," she said to him.
He shrugged. "I cannot claim any credit for their eventual success," he responded quietly.
Lena nodded slowly. "Well," she said, "I'm glad you had a little more success with temporarily containing the Death Curse to Dumbledore's hand."
Snape sharply turned his head to her. "He spoke to you about that?"
"A little," replied Lena carefully. She was unsure of what exactly he knew about the circumstances of Dumbledore coming into contact with the curse, but she was fairly positive Snape had no idea about the Horcruxes. No matter how good an Occlumens he was, she knew Dumbledore wouldn't risk giving him such vital information in case Voldemort somehow broke through and learned that his enemy was aware of the secret to his immortality.
Not that Dumbledore had been completely transparent about the whole situation with her either. They'd only spoken a few times since her first day of consciousness, and he'd done his best to avoid answering her questions about his 'arrangements', and whether Draco Malfoy's mission had anything to do with it.
As they turned a corner, Lena glanced at Snape again. He seemed a lot more on-edge since she'd mentioned the Death Curse, his body tensed and his lips drawn in an even thinner line than usual. It surprised Lena; she knew his relationship with the headmaster was one of deep trust, but she never thought there was much genuine affection behind it. So why was Dumbledore's impending death so upsetting for Snape? Because he would lose his only real supporter in the Order?
Lena halted suddenly as everything began to fall into place. It took Snape a few seconds to realise she was no longer in step with him. He stopped too, and turned around to look at her. But before he could ask her why she had stopped, Lena spoke.
"Fucking hell," she said softly. "You're the arrangement."
A muscle in his clenched jaw twitched. "I beg your pardon?"
Remembering they were standing in a corridor where anyone might overhear them, Lena shook her head. "Not here," she muttered, and started walked again, but her pace quickened.
Looking both bemused and wary, Snape followed her wordlessly. Within a couple of minutes, they had reached Minerva's office, and Lena shut the door behind them.
"So," she began, turning around to Snape, "Voldemort gives Draco Malfoy the impossible task of killing Dumbledore to punish Lucius for his failure at the Ministry. But at the same time, Dumbledore finds that ring and is fatally infected with the curse. He realises he's got not much more than a year to live, and he knows the mission Voldemort has given Draco. And he knows that the kid will probably be executed for his eventual failure. So, why not just let Draco 'kill' him before the curse does it anyway? Because Dumbledore is an uncommonly and unnecessarily compassionate man, and doesn't want Draco to carry that weight for the rest of his life." She took a deep breath, and looked Snape squarely in the eye. "But you, on the other hand, are already burdened by guilt, so what's a mercy kill on top of that? You can make it look like Draco didn't completely fail, that he was integral to the success of the assassination. And if everyone thinks you've killed Dumbledore, including the Order, you earn Voldemort's complete trust. The Ministry falls, you get put in charge of Hogwarts, where you can protect the students without raising suspicion while the war plays out, until Harry can hopefully end it."
For a long moment, Snape just stared at her. Then he said, "It really is very annoying."
Lena cocked her head. "What is?"
"That you actually are that clever." He sighed, leaning back against Minerva's desk. "It was much more enjoyable to despise you when I thought your arrogance might have been unfounded."
She almost laughed, but instead continued to intently watch Snape's face. It was strange to see him look at her without hostility. Of course, there was still not a hint of fondness, but it was almost... civil.
She remembered what Remus had said about Snape not having a bad word to say about her since the battle at the Ministry – where she had finally, and definitively, told Voldemort she was on Harry's side. She had chosen the son of the woman Snape loved, rather than the man who had killed her.
"What he's asked of you," she said finally, "is a terrible thing."
"Yes," replied Snape, after a short pause, "it is."
"I don't feel sorry for you."
He blinked. Then he pushed himself off the desk. "I wouldn't expect you to," he told her simply. "And in any case, I wouldn't want your pity." His dark eyes bore into hers. "You will certainly never have mine."
Lena half-smiled. "I'm glad we feel the same way." She hesitated, then stuck out a hand. "Good luck."
Snape eyed the proffered hand for a few seconds, then took it in a firm grip. "Thank you."
They let go, and took a step back from each other. Snape gestured to a small urn on the mantel of the fireplace. "The Floo Powder is in there. You know the address?"
She nodded, moving over to the fireplace. She was reaching up for the urn when there was a loud pop in the centre of the office.
"Miss Lena!"
Surprised, Lena stared at Tizzy the house-elf, who had just appeared. She was carrying a folded piece of parchment in her hand. Snape looked equally startled.
"Hello, Tizzy," said Lena kindly, but a little apprehensively. "What are you doing here?"
The house-elf held out the parchment. She was almost bouncing, clearly excited. "Professor Dumbledore asked Tizzy to give this message to Miss Lena!"
Lena took the parchment and unfolded it. It read:
Dear Lena,
I apologise for not seeing you off in person today. Please send a message to me once you have arrived at the safe-house and settled in with Remus so I know all is well.
It has occurred to me that as you are still recovering, you are somewhat restricted in your movements and usual capabilities. Therefore, I thought perhaps you might be appreciative of some extra assistance, as you had once before when you were ill. The assistant in question is very eager to resume those duties, and it seems to me that we might as well make such an arrangement permanent .
Albus Dumbledore
There was more written at the bottom of the page. It was a house-elf ownership transferral. Dumbledore was giving Tizzy to Lena – all she had to do was sign on the dotted line, and she would become her new master.
It was unexpected, to say the least. But once she got past her initial surprise, Lena could see the sense – and benefits – of such an arrangement.
She looked up from the letter and at Tizzy. "This is what you want?" she asked her. "To come with me?"
Tizzy nodded vigorously. "Tizzy would be very honoured to have Miss Lena as her mistress," she said breathlessly. "Miss Lena is a great witch, full of wisdom and kindness–"
From behind the house-elf, Snape snorted derisively. Tizzy looked over her shoulder at him, and although Lena could not properly see her expression, she could have sworn it was the dirtiest look that had ever graced the elf's face.
She turned back to Lena and continued, "And ever since Kreacher began working at Hogwarts, it has felt like there is maybe one too many house-elves in service here."
Lena had involuntarily flinched at the mention of Kreacher. With the many long hours of nothing to do but think while imprisoned by Voldemort, a suspicion had begun to form in Lena's mind that it was the Black family's house-elf that had somehow given information about her Occlumency lessons with Harry to someone, most likely Narcissa Malfoy, who had in turn passed it on to Voldemort – a suspicion later confirmed by Dumbledore. It was Kreacher's way of getting revenge for the destruction of Walburga's portrait.
She shook her head slightly, refocusing on Tizzy. "Well, in that case, I would be glad to have you," she said to Tizzy, who beamed. Lena went over to the desk and unscrewed the lid of an inkpot. She picked up a quill, dipped it in the ink, and then signed the transferral. When she did, Tizzy seemed to glow for a brief moment, and shook. Then she went back to normal, and smiled widely.
Lena returned the smile. "All right," she told her, "I'm going to Floo to my temporary residence. Once I arrive, I'll call for you."
"Yes, Miss Lena."
She folded up the transferral document and put it in her coat pocket. Then she went back to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of Floo powder. She stepped into the fireplace, and with one last look at Snape and Tizzy, travelled to her new destination.
"Oh, Miss Lena is looking so beautiful!"
Lena turned away from the dresser's mirror to give Tizzy a wry smile. "Let's not oversell it, Tizzy – I look presentable."
"Oh, come on," said Maggie, who was leaning in the doorway. "For once, just take the compliment. It's your wedding day, for God's sake." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "Which reminds me, we better get moving. If we're fashionably late, the sun will have completely gone down." She shook her head. "Why you're getting married outside after three o'clock in northern Scotland in the middle of winter, I'll never understand," she muttered.
"I guess things just worked out this way," replied Lena, shrugging. She took one last glance at herself in the mirror, then stood up, smoothing out her dress. "The only real downside is that Rolf wasn't able to make it at such short notice."
Maggie chuckled. "Yeah, but at least you don't have to worry about him wetting himself in excitement."
"I suppose that we're having such a small ceremony does make me feel a little better about it," admitted Lena, crossing over to her and Remus' bed. She sat down on the edge and bent over to put on her shoes.
"I can't believe you're wearing boots to your own wedding," said Maggie, eyeing the footwear in question.
"They're a new pair," said Lena defensively, pulling on the first black ankle-boot. "And what else am I going to wear if I have to walk through snow? Besides, they've got a two-and-a-half-inch heel – that's kind of fancy."
"Well, all I'm saying is that if Oliver and I do end up getting married, you are not helping with the wedding-planning."
Lena finished putting on the boots and got up. She grabbed her wand off the bedside table and quickly cast a temperature-stabiliser spell over herself. Then she picked up her black leather jacket and put it on. "All right, Mortimer," she called to the Bowtruckle, "it's time to go! Have you got the ring?"
A few seconds later, Mortimer scurried into the room, carrying the small band of gold she would soon place on Remus' finger. Lena crouched down, holding her hand out. Mortimer climbed onto it, and she put him on her shoulder.
She closed her eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath in and out. Then, opening her eyes, she smiled at Maggie and Tizzy.
"Okay. I'm ready."
"You ready for this?"
Remus gave Harry a slightly nervous smile. "Yeah, definitely."
Harry grinned, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Good, because I can't wait to see the two of you finally married."
"We've only been engaged for two months, and together for less than three years," Remus pointed out, his eyebrows raised. "A lot of couples wait much longer than that."
The dark-haired boy – or really, young man – shrugged. "But this is you and Lena. It's meant to be."
Remus breathed out slowly. "Yeah. I just... can't believe it's finally happening."
"Mortimer made this?" asked Valeriya, inspecting Lena's engagement ring. "I never knew Bowtruckles could do that."
Lena nodded. "Neither did I," she said. "I asked Newt about it when we had lunch with him and Tina a couple of days ago. He said he'd seen Bowtruckles grow offshoots and break them off, but had never seen one grow a flower like this."
It had been a month since Lena's proposal, but the white flower on the ring had not wilted or been damaged in any way. The petals were unnaturally strong, and almost luminous.
Valeriya let go of Lena's hand and looked around the living room. "Well, it's certainly a nice place you have here. Must be a welcome change after Grimmauld Place."
Remus pursed his lips. The house in Notting Hill that he and Lena had purchased and had just moved into this week was very nice. But the only reason they weren't in 12 Grimmauld Place was because Sirius had died, and he would have taken every dark, dingy space in the House of Black over this clean, bright house if it meant he would still have his best friend.
He could see the same thought had crossed Lena's mind, but she simply replied to Valeriya, "Yes, it is nice."
"And a house-elf as well," remarked Valeriya. "How very... domestic."
It had been quite a shock for Remus when Lena had turned up at the safe-house as the new master of a house-elf. And yes, he knew Tizzy reasonably well, but he had always found there was something unsettling in the idea of owning a house-elf. Tizzy, meanwhile, was unsettled by the fact Remus was so reluctant to hand over cooking duties to her. Negotiations had resulted in a deal where he made breakfast, she prepared lunch (if he and Lena were in) and they took turns to cook dinner. Tonight, it was Tizzy's turn.
He and Lena led Valeriya through to the dining room and sat down at the table. Valeriya, however, paused as she was lowering herself into her chair, her expression becoming suspicious.
"You haven't invited me here tonight to make a big show of asking me to give you away at the wedding, have you?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at Lena.
"Give me away?" repeated Lena indignantly. "What am I, a prize? Absolutely not."
Valeriya looked relieved. "Good." She sat down, then added, "And are you intending on taking Remus' name?"
Remus blinked. It wasn't a subject the two of them had discussed. He exchanged a look with Lena, who bit her lip.
"You know," she said eventually, "the Lestrange name has always hung over me like a dark cloud, casting a shadow that people struggle to see past. Maybe once I would have liked to be free of it, but now..." She absentmindedly twisted the engagement ring around her finger. "If I were to give it up, it would be like giving away a part of myself – a dark, sad part, but one that's integral to who I am. So, no," she shook her head, "I will remain Lena Lestrange."
Remus smiled at her. He didn't feel offended at all, but rather proud of Lena. "I'm glad," he said. "I don't think I could have ever gotten used to the name 'Lena Lupin'."
As they ate dinner, Remus did not involve himself much in Lena and Valeriya's conversation. They were discussing what had been happening in the artefact trade while Lena had been gone, and it was making him uncomfortable. Not because of the unscrupulous behaviour it could involve – he had moved past that long ago – but for the fact it was reminding him that there was still something he had not shared with Lena.
He hadn't told her about his meeting with Theodora in the Leaky Cauldron, and the information she had given him on the Orb's whereabouts. And he hadn't informed her that on the night she had escaped from Voldemort, he had been preparing to go retrieve the Orb. He was certain she would be furious with him if she knew. She had made it abundantly clear to him that she should not be given the Orb under any circumstance, even if death was impending.
So he had kept it a secret. She was back with him, free from Voldemort's clutches. Lena never needed to know the terrible lengths he would have gone to save her. All she needed to know now was how he couldn't wait to finally marry her.
Well, they'd had to wait a little. Lena initially wanted the marriage to happen as quickly as possible, but Remus had convinced her to wait until the Christmas holidays so Harry would definitely be able to attend. Of course, the irony was that the location they had finally decided upon was back at Hogwarts.
As they waited for Lena to arrive, Remus looked around the clearing in the Forbidden Forest where they would soon exchange vows. It was the place where they had first spent a night together – or to be pedantic, Moony had spent it with Lena. There was a light fall of snow on the ground, but the air didn't feel as cold as it should, courtesy of some skilful magic by Dumbledore.
It was the headmaster who was acting as celebrant – a duty he was entitled to as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Lena had suggested the idea not long after Remus had accepted her proposal, and he had to admit it just felt right, as was the smallness of the ceremony. The only guests other than Harry were Valeriya, Minerva, Oliver, and Maggie as well, who was yet to arrive as she was helping Lena get ready, along with Tizzy (who would, of course, also be at the wedding).
At present, Oliver and Minerva were having an in-depth discussion about Quidditch, while Dumbledore and Valeriya spoke to each other quietly – about what, Remus didn't know.
"But it does feel like something's missing without Sirius."
Remus turned back to Harry, who was staring at the ground with a forlorn expression.
He sighed. "Yes, it does." Smiling reminiscently, he added, "Even if he would have tried to give another inappropriate best man's speech like he did at your parents' wedding."
Remembering the event, he blushed slightly as he recalled the drunken snog between Sirius and himself. Hoping Harry wouldn't notice the pink tinge to his cheeks, Remus changed the subject.
"How's it been at the Burrow since Christmas day?" he asked. He and Lena had joined the Weasleys for Christmas Eve, but they'd been with Maggie and Oliver for lunch the next day, which was when the new Minister for Magic and Percy had paid a visit to the latter's childhood home.
"A bit tense," admitted Harry. "I think Mrs Weasley was really hoping that Percy had finally come to his senses, and there would be a big, happy reunion."
Remus nodded. "I suppose there's a lot of wounded pride – on both sides." He looked at Harry shrewdly. "And how are you feeling, after your first meeting with Scrimgeour?"
Harry gave him a dry smile. "Well, I don't have any regrets about what I said to him." He looked to his left. "And it's a good thing you don't have any regrets about the whole getting-married-thing, because she's just arrived."
He snapped his head in the direction Harry was looking, and for a second, time seemed to stand still. In-between Tizzy and Maggie (upon whose shoulder perched Mortimer) stood Lena, wearing a long, white dress, cinched in just below the breast. It was a simple garment, unadorned by any embroidery or lace, with a neckline in a v-shape. It reminded Remus of ancient Grecian garb, which was emphasised by the golden headband in the style of a laurel wreath she wore in her half-up, half-down hair. She wore no veil, or any other jewellery than her engagement ring. And of course, she was wearing her leather jacket and black ankle-boots – because that was just Lena.
Remus had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.
A hand placed on his shoulder startled him out of his mesmerised state. It was Harry, who was smirking.
"Don't forget to breathe," he murmured to Remus, and with a final pat on the back, joined the other guests in a semi-circle formation around where Remus stood in front of Dumbledore, who had moved into his position as celebrant.
There was a space in the middle of the semi-circle for Lena to walk through to them, and as she did, she locked eyes with Remus, and smiled.
Merlin, how he loved her.
Harry watched Lena walk towards Remus with a delighted grin on his face. The bride and groom were both practically glowing, and he couldn't have been more happy for them.
Lena reached Remus, and there was something almost automatic in the way they took each others' hands, their eyes not shifting their gazes once.
He heard Remus whisper to her, "You are so... perfect."
"Oh, shut up," was Lena's muttered response as she beamed at him.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, and the two of them turned to look at him. As they did, Harry suddenly felt as though there were a lot more than eight people (and a house-elf and a Bowtruckle) stood in the clearing. He briefly scanned the edges of the area to confirm his suspicions.
There were Thestrals lined around them, keenly watching the ceremony.
"We gather here today," began Dumbledore, his warm voice filling the clearing, "to celebrate the union of these two souls." He took a moment to look at both people standing directly before him. "Lena and Remus," he continued, "have chosen to embark on a journey together. Neither can know where this path will lead them, but they walk it hand-in-hand, for as long as the time they are given. They go together into the unknown, for that is the promise of love."
He paused, smiling at his audience, and Harry could have sworn there was a wetness in his blue eyes.
"I have said before that nothing is more powerful than love. Lena and Remus have only deepened my belief in that – not merely because of the bond they share with each other, but by the compassion and selflessness they have demonstrated for others – even when they did not believe they deserved to be called such things. And it makes me happpier than I can say that in a time as dark and uncertain as this, they have found in each other an unwavering and devoted love, and with that love, true happiness. Which brings us to their vows, which I believe the bride and groom have written themselves?"
Remus and Lena both inclined their heads.
Harry's former teacher went first. "Lena," said Remus, after a deep breath, "when I first met you, I had nothing. I was alone, broken and unable to see myself as anything other than a monster." His earnest expression transformed into the smile of one who could not believe his good fortune. "Then you came into my life, and I once again had someone to talk to, to laugh with, who could look into my eyes without fear, disgust, or pity, but with respect, understanding, and compassion." He swallowed, his Adam's Apple bobbing. "You became my friend when I needed one." He paused, taking a moment as his hands gripped Lena's more firmly. "And when I very nearly lost you, I realised you were more than that. I loved you, although I thought you would never feel the same. But then the most wonderful thing happened: I learned you loved me too. Not just the man standing in front of you now – you love all of me, which is more than I could ever ask. So, I swear to you I will always love you as truly and deeply. No matter what distance may come between us, the arguments we will almost certainly have, the tragedies that might ensue – I will love you through all of them, with the entirety of my heart and my soul, for as long as Time itself."
The rarity of seeing such an emotional outpour from Remus made his words even more keenly felt. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Professor McGonagall discretely dabbing her eye, and Lena's words from the day at Trafalgar Square once again echoed in his head.
Lena also looked almost overwhelmed as she started to speak. "Remus, I..." She stopped. It sounded as though the breath had caught in her throat. She wiped her cheek which wasn't visible to Harry with a hand, and he wondered if there had been a tear rolling down it. She was gazing at Remus with an intensity Harry would have found intimidating, but on the werewolf's face, there was only euphoria.
She breathed out deeply, and began again. "You already know," she said softly. "That's why you're marrying me – because you already know everything I promise. All I can do now is vow to keep true to those promises – upon my life, and whatever may come after it."
Not for the first time, Harry wondered what it was like to be so completely in love with someone. And although it seemed silly to worry about it now, when his only real concern should have been defeating Voldemort, he couldn't help but wish that one day he would learn. After all, it was the only sort of romantic love he could have now, after the incident of accidentally storing Lena's words about love in the wrong section of his mind. The sort of love where one would put themselves between their partner and a monster they had no chance of stopping; like his father had done for his mother.
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off–"
Dumbledore's voice snapped Harry out of the Dementor-induced memory of his father's last words.
"Do you, Remus John Lupin, take Lena Violetta Lestrange to be your wife, to love and honour, through sickness and through health, for as long as you both may live?"
Remus firmly nodded his head once. "I do."
"Do you, Lena Vi–"
"Yes," interrupted Lena, as though she couldn't hold the word in any longer. She was smiling so brightly it almost hurt Harry's eyes to look at her. "Yes, I take him."
"Excellent. Now, you both have the rings?"
Remus nodded again and pulled out the wedding ring he would give Lena from his pocket, while Lena gestured for Mortimer to bring her the one for him. Once she had it, they quickly but gently placed the rings on each others' fingers.
Dumbledore drew his wand out of his sleeve, and announced, "Then I declare you bonded for life."
From his wand, silver stars shot into the air and showered down, spiralling around the figures of Remus and Lena, who at the exact same time had come together. With Lena's arms around his neck and Remus' around her waist, they kissed each other fervently, to the onlookers' applause. When they separated a few seconds later, they were once again smiling at each other, and to Harry, it seemed as though they were in a world of their own – a world without darkness, where nothing could ever hurt them, and they would be together, happily ever after.
And there you have it: Lena and Remus are married.
What did you think? Too fluffy and saccharine? If that's what you think, fair enough. Just remember, I'm writing this knowing what's coming next, and 'happily ever after'... well, that doesn't seem very likely, does it? After all, there's a war on. But who knows?
(I do. But you'll just have to keep reading to find out :D)
Oh, and 20 house-points to anyone who figures out what the chapter title is a reference to (for once, it's not Shakespearean). If you're stuck, go back to the AN of Chapter 35, and checkout the track-listing I gave for Lena's mix-tape.