Chapter 21 – you say Wolfstar, I say Wedding
AN. I'm back! Yes, hello, lovely to see you all again.
Those of you who follow me on Twitter know that I've been having a pretty shoddy time of things lately. Some good things have happened, like me FINALLY getting my wheelchair! Anyway, I am still working on my fics, I'm still drawing. And on that note, I now have a Ko-fi! You can find it over at ko-fi /seryph, so if you like what I'm doing and want to support me with the cost of a cuppa, or want to commission some art, or a one-shot fic, head on over!
Nothing too awful in this one, just some drinking, smoking and a brief mention of homophobia. Gotta love the 80s!
Thursday 23rd September 1982 – Mabon, the Autumnal Equinox
Remus' stag had been a surprisingly raucous affair, all things considered. They had to plan them for separate days, because all of their friends wanted to attend both, and Lily had insisted that they have separate parties. Sirius, of course, had taken to the streets of Soho – yes, in the rain – and he been returned at around five in the morning by James. Both covered in glitter, and neither particularly sober. He had tried hard not to be angry, or panicked by their lateness, and was rewarded for his patience with a Sirius sized lump under the duvet, which curled up on his chest and refused to move for the next twelve hours.
When it was Remus' turn, he had somehow found himself in Brixton, in a café-come-club belonging to Dorcus' uncle. The music was electrifying, and the rum and smoke in the air had left even his brain pleasantly buzzing. They poured out a glass of rum and put it on the shelf behind the bar, there was a photograph of Marlene there, who grinned and waved out at them all. Remus tried to tell himself she would be angry at him for being sad, and it helped a little. He had used the Muggle money Sirius insisted he took to pay for a cab back to the flat. He would have Apparated, but Lily was starting to fall asleep on her feet, and he didn't feel sober enough to risk side along. He was pleased to discover he was a little too drunk for his brain to produce an accurate conversion of Pounds Sterling to Galleons, as he handed over the paper notes and scooped Lily up into his arms.
He was pleasantly surprised he wasn't hungover the next morning. Werewolf constitution being the reason he had the short straw of his stag do being the night before the wedding. He climbed carefully out of bed, though all that could be seen of Lily was the mass of red curls spilling across the pillow. He smiled and shook his head, pottering out to the bathroom. Sirius had spent the night with James and Harry, so they wouldn't see each other until the main event.
Remus leant against the tiles, the magically enhanced shower beating down on his chest and shoulders. He couldn't quite decide how he felt this morning. Really, they were already married. The red band around his wrist still held the trace of their combined magic, like perfume lingering on a favourite scarf, and Remus loved the way he could sense Sirius always through it. But…
But Remus had gone to the little village churches and services across Wales throughout his childhood. Hope went every Sunday, and Lyall would even come with them for Midnight Mass, or the children's Easter Service. The older Remus had become, the less frequently he attended. Religious devotion wasn't exactly "normal" in the Wizarding community, and there was no church in Hogsmeade, nor any system for Hogwarts students to attend one. If he was honest, it had made life a little easier. He didn't need to question his beliefs if he wasn't faced with them. In the holidays he would go to church with Hope, Christmas, and Easter again, because it wouldn't do for the villagers near Rowan Cottage to see him too often in the summer and notice any new scars. Hope's funeral had been in the church, obviously. But since then, he just… hadn't. Lily and James had managed to get a blessing in her childhood parish, but not the service itself, James not being Church of England. And today…
Remus ran the soap over his chest, bubbles collecting over the ridges of some of the deeper scars. Of course, if God the Almighty was watching, Remus had a few choice words about Lycanthropy and allowing the infection of four-year-old boys for Him. That, and casting perfectly good men into hell for loving each other.
He pushed it from his mind. Today they were going to stand up in front of everyone they cared about, and let it be known they would never again be parted. That they loved each other. That Sirius Black, the brightest star, loved him.
In the back of his mind, Remus did the normal morning checks. He thought of it a bit like someone on the S.S. Enterprise running a scan of a new planet or life-form. Not that he'd ever say that aloud, because really, could he be a bigger nerd? The last moon had left him with broken fingers, and his right hip had been agony for days. The leg was increasingly becoming more and more of a problem. Today, thankfully, standing on it was less painful and more mildly irritating, like a label in a shirt. Today he wouldn't need the goddamn stick.
Pulling on his dressing gown, he meandered through to the front room, and filled the kettle. His and Lily's clothes for the wedding were hanging up in the bedroom, so he felt fairly safe about starting on making breakfast and was delighted to find Sirius had provided all the ingredients in the fridge. By the time Lily appeared, he had a pot of tea, and one of Sirius' hangover potions waiting for her on the side and was just about to start frying the eggs.
"Morning Rem – ", She spotted the potion, "I love you."
He laughed, "Good morning to you too. How's the head?" He asked innocently.
Lily groaned, "Remind me, in the future, that rum is not my drink."
Grinning, Remus rescued her eggs and added them to the plate he had been keeping warm in the oven. He pushed the plate across the breakfast bar to her, nodding to the cutlery he had already put there.
"This will help."
She eyed the plate suspiciously, "What did you make?"
"Tomatoes, sausages, bacon, mushrooms, eggs…"
"Yeah, and what else?" She was still staring at her food.
"Bara lawr a cocos. And Sirius left black pudding too."
Lily opened her mouth to further question the workings of a full Welsh breakfast but was interrupted by a chuckle from the hallway.
"I'd no argue wi' it, Lily. I've tried, but he's too like his Mam."
She grinned over her shoulder at Lyall, who was towelling off his own hair from the shower, "At least we've got black pudding, Mr. Lupin."
"Ach. Lyall, lass." He smiled back, "Gi' me a wee minute to get dressed, Remus, aye?"
Remus nodded the affirmative and left his father's plate warming, dipping laverbread cake into his egg and leaning against his cooking stool.
Having drunk her potion and started in on her sausages, Lily was looking distinctly less green around the gills, and beamed up at him. Remus couldn't help laughing as he rolled his eyes. He knew what her smile was about, and that she would only get worse once they were all dressed up.
"Fine, but don't you dare ask him. Or he'll probably show you."
It was like the world was in high focus and super slow-motion all at once. Sirius felt like his whole world was bright gold light and heat and was absolutely sure her lungs had stopped working somewhere on Remus' walk down the aisle in the registry office. It wasn't that he hadn't seen Remus in a kilt before, though not for quite some time. Actually, it wasn't really the kilt that did it. It was knowing that he was hers, for the rest of time.
Sirius had let Lily and Remus deal with most of the wedding planning. This part wasn't really for him. His part had already happened on the bright Beltane morning when Remus had said the words and bound them together for the rest of their lives. But still, she couldn't stop grinning as Remus repeated after the Ministry Officiant. So much so that James had to very politely and not at all subtly elbow him in the ribs to remind her to speak when the time came for his own vows.
Harry had the rings. Sirius bit in the inside of her mouth to stop the tears coming, when the two-year-old solemnly held them up and watched so carefully as they exchanged them. Harry was the first person he hugged too, after dipping Remus in front of everyone when the words "You may now kiss your husband" were uttered.
Andromeda was his only direct relative to RSVP. Sirius watched her chat with Molly Weasley, as they kept an eye on the herd of children that ran merrily underfoot. They had hired out the Three Broomsticks, the Marauders favourite stomping ground of old. She knew the two women were discussing Molly's eldest, Bill, who had been sorted into Gryffindor at the beginning of the month. Meda had told Sirius she had hopes Nymphadora would follow in his footsteps and be sorted outside of Slytherin. He secretly agreed.
The food smelt amazing, though she hadn't managed to eat much, his right hand was held tightly in Remus' under the table. He could feel Remus' eyes on her, so she did try at least, and he hadn't managed to finish a whole drink yet. Every time he picked one up, her name was called for a photograph, or a dance, or to continue some story or another the teller had forgotten the end to.
It was, in a word, wonderful.
Sirius felt the ice in his stomach and on her skin before he even looked around. Before the crowd of friends and chosen family even noticed the stranger by the doorway. It was as though he had been flung from the bright golden room, and the door slammed shut.
She turned, slowly, with precision and the stately grace beaten into him from childhood. Silver eyes met their match, and the heirs of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black stared at each other.
"Salut, Sirius. I understand congratulations are in order, my son."