A quaffle came flying at Remus's head as he stepped into his dorm room in Gryffindor Tower. He was lucky it wasn't a hex. He was creeping into the lads' room just before dawn, hoping to get a little sleep. Sirius's senses must have still been on high alarm from their escape from Malfoy Manor. He had awakened and was hurling things at the door before it even finished opening.

Remus didn't raise a hand to catch the quaffle, but ducked out of the way, as he always did. He'd learned long ago that it was best not to draw attention to his reflexes.

"What are you doing back here?" Peter squawked, rubbing his eyes. "I thought you had leave to spend the night with your - your Narcissa at the shack."

"I thought so too," Remus said, falling onto his bed. "But then her sister showed up and demanded a word with her in the privacy of Dumbledore's office."

"What, Bellatrix Lestrange is here?" Peter said, bleary eyes bulging.

"No, obviously," Sirius croaked. "Nothing's on fire so it must be Andromeda. The older sister, bossy but not bloodthirsty."

"Two older sisters," Remus groaned into his pillow. "It's like I've got three mothers-in-law. One of them thinks I want to eat her little daughter, and the other is actively trying to murder me."

Sirius laughed, a loud rather vindictive sound. "Come on, Remus. It could be worse. Three mothers-in-law and only one is a genocidal maniac."

Peter shrugged. "Yeah, and that kind of murder, it's - well it's not personal."

Sirius summoned the quaffle just to slam it into Peter's stomach. "Pete, honestly. I worry about you sometimes."

Remus faked a sob, but said, "I'm not really complaining, just exhausted. I spent most of the day sleeping in Malfoy's cellar but," he yawned, "I could use some rest, after all that's happened. Not that it isn't worth it. I mean - this is Narcissa Black. I'd take five mothers-in-law for her, or twenty, seventy-five thousand - "

"Right, okay," Sirius said. "You're almost as bad as James already."

"You should have seen her tonight, Pete," Remus went on. "Did they tell you what she was like?"

"Went all Veela on you. Throwing fire and sprouting wings," Peter said.

"Yeah, a shining, winged Veela done up in a wedding dress," Sirius drawled, fluffing his pillow without any daintiness. "It was like a Halloween costume wearing a Halloween costume."

Remus hummed and smiled, remembering.

"I always miss the good stuff," Peter grumbled. "If you're sleeping here, where's she going? They can't toss her back into that viper pit of a Slytherin dormitory."

"They really can't," Remus agreed. "It's worse down there than we thought." He pushed himself to sitting as he explained about the soul-hardening potions meant for Narcissa but accidentally eaten by Snape and Regulus.

Sirius was sitting by the time he finished, leaning forward at the edge of his bed, as if he was about to be sick. "I should have known something dark was working on him," he said. "About two years ago something changed in him. Abruptly, radically. I thought it was just the testosterone."

Remus's head drooped. "Cissa didn't mean to feed it to them. She's heartbroken - "

"Yes, of course she is," Sirius said. "It's down to Riddle and Bellatrix. And even with the potion, Regulus - he managed to see through it eventually and desert them." It was then his turn to explain, letting Remus know Regulus had betrayed the Death Eaters and told them where to find Remus.

The room was grave. Remus swallowed hard. "He's the best of lads. But Regulus will never last out there, going against Riddle on his own."

Sirius was nodding miserably. "I'm going after him. But not yet. One rescue at a time. For now, we've got to keep my cousin out of the Slytherin dungeon. Right, Pete?"

Peter startled. His mates assumed they'd caught him falling back to sleep. In fact, he'd been listening carefully, a chill growing in his gut, remembering his rat rampages through the castle on weekends, when he'd indulge in his guilty pleasure of raiding the bins. It was a pastime he wasn't proud of and he hid it from the rest of the lads. The best finds were on the lower floors, in the kitchens, and in Slytherin, where the parents sent the nicest sweets. One of his favourites came every weekend without fail, wrapped in pretty pink baking parchment, sticky and powdered with sugar. He always found it in the same cardboard box, stamped with the seal of the House of Black.

But he felt fine, didn't he? His soul hadn't been hardened. How much of a potion could a rat ingest licking at papers anyway? No, there was no need to mention those crumbs to the lads. They were sure to be angry with him. Perhaps angry enough to send him away. No, he'd keep quiet, and try to stay involved with the conversation as it made its way back to Narcissa Black and her sister.

Remus was talking. "She's safe for now, in the headmaster's office with her Order of the Phoenix sister. I walked her up there myself. Wish I knew what it's about. You've both got siblings. What do you think Andromeda could want?"

Sirius sat back, blowing his hair out of his face. "Don't ask me. I let a demon poison my brother for two years. Clearly I'm no model sibling."

"Me neither," Peter said, forcing himself back into their talk. "I mostly keep my head down at home. What my sisters seem to want from each other is stuff. Always stealing each other's cosmetics and clothes."

Remus hummed. "Andromeda did ask Cissa to bring the Rosier family wedding dress with her. It's a precious heirloom - or at least, it was before we got to it."

"See what I mean? Women and their dresses," Peter began to say before Sirius pitched the quaffle at his head.

Remus stood up, pacing between James's empty bed and his own.

"Oh, for stars' sake, Remus. You're not going to get any rest until you get her back," Sirius said, not sounding angry about it for once.

Remus nodded at his shoes. "That's it exactly. My poor nerves. I can't shake the feeling Andromeda's come to take Narcissa from me."

Peter frowned. "The Tonkses aren't Death Eaters. They won't try to bundle Narcissa off."

"No, Pete," Remus said, "but when it comes to this, they're worse than Death Eaters. They're people who genuinely care about Narcissa. People who love her for who she is, not for what she could do for some wicked movement. They're the kind of people who might be able to give her a good reason not to…"

As he trailed off, Sirius drew a deep breath, as if about to make a confession. "You know that I personally did what I could to stop you and my brat cousin from coming together. I tried literally everything in my power until I saw her take Moony's great hairy snout in her hands and call you out of the curse. I have no idea how the pair of you did it, but I concede to the power, to the goodness of your connection to each other. And after a miracle like that, I can't imagine what Andromeda or anyone could say to interfere with it. I can't imagine anyone would dare."

Remus raised his head, letting out his breath. "Right. Of course you're right. Lifelong inferiority complex at work here. Hard to turn it around in one evening."

Sirius threw the quaffle at Remus again, and this time Remus caught it. "That's it," Sirius said. "Go ahead and pace in the corridor outside the headmaster's office if you like. But do it because you can't wait to see her, not because you're scared you'll never see her again."

In Dumbledore's office, Andromeda floated the Rosier family wedding gown in the air between herself and her sister. As dresses went, it was famous, featured in compendiums of witches' fashion for bringing the white gown into wedding wear, inspiring elite Muggles like Queen Victoria. It was iconic, and in ruins. She circled it, frowning and muttering.

"It's a bit worse for wear, I'm afraid," Narcissa said, holding back a yawn, apologizing into the strained silence. "But I wasn't the one who decided to wear it to be attacked and chased by a horde of Death Eaters, so…"

Andromeda had still said hardly anything since Narcissa had come up the spiral stairs into the office where Dumbledore had left them alone. She was hardly looking at her sister, dressed as Narcissa was in a boy's school uniform, the cuffs of the trousers rolled up so she wouldn't trip over them. The sleeves of the jumper pushed up past her elbows so she could use her hands. Andromeda didn't need to ask her where she got the clothes and why she hadn't altered them, respecting the size of their true owner.

"I wondered if I'd ever see this gown again," Andromeda finally began, smoothing the dirty, greyed silk between her fingers.

She whispered the most gentle, deliberate Scourgifying spell Narcissa had ever heard and the fibres of the silk and lace and tulle began to shimmer and vibrate, the dirt and twigs and grass stains slowly disappearing. Removing the singe marks scorched into the fabric by Dolohov's restraining spell would take more time and care. Tidying the frayed hem wouldn't be difficult. Mending the lacework would be tedious. And repairing the ragged gash in the back where the Veela's wing had torn the rear half of the bodice away - Narcissa wasn't sure it could be done in a way that wouldn't leave the dress profoundly changed.

"I used to creep up to the attic wardrobe where this was kept and put it on when I was a girl. Do you remember, Cissie? It was the first spell I learned to break - the one that kept this dress safely locked away from us. I never let Mother find me in it, but I wore it so often up in the attic while we played that you must have seen me in it."

Narcissa tried her best to remember, but she was much younger than Andromeda and couldn't bring the sight of the dress to mind on any of her sisters but Bellatrix. What a sight that had been. Bella had come scuffing down the aisle toward where Narcissa had stood as the maid of honor beside Rodolphus's best man, his brother Rabastan. As a bride, Bellatrix had been positively sulking at not being allowed to marry Tom Riddle, not even after she threw herself at his feet and begged him. She was not defiant enough to reject the husband Riddle had found for her, but she was defiant enough to come to the ceremony without any shoes on, no flowers, and without having fixed her hair in days.

The newspaper hadn't been invited to the ceremony but they managed to publish photos all the same. Druella Black had been mortified. And now, Narcissa thought, Druella was at Malfoy Manor embroiled in a wedding scandal that was much, much worse. On top of the runaway bride and the broken obligations to a cruel and powerful wizard, it appeared that she had lost the treasured wedding dress to Andromeda.

"I never dreamed I'd be married wearing anything other than this," Andromeda said. "As it turned out, I wore a Muggle dress from Ted's family. Boat neck and a skirt like a bell that stopped at my knee. I lengthened the skirt to the floor, but it still looked old-fashioned. It couldn't be helped. We had no time to waste. Once I left home and the slander started, Ted had to make an honest woman out of me to put an end to it."

It was a tender, painful moment, watching Andromeda mourn what she lost when she married for love. All of those losses hung before Narcissa's eyes in the form of an old, tattered, dirty dress she herself had despised every second it was on her body. If she'd been able to foresee how reverently, how lovingly Andromeda would have handled it, maybe Narcissa would have taken more care while she was wearing it - and perhaps she would have been distracted by it, and not taken the care she needed to get Lupin away from the manor alive.

No, she regretted nothing. But she did try to soothe her sister's feelings. "So now it's safe with you, we can fix up the dress for Nymphadora to be married in it some day."

Andromeda scoffed through a smile. "Dora's wedding can wait, my darling. Yours can't."

Narcissa tossed her head. "My wedding? You say it as if Lupin and I aren't already properly bound to each other. We certainly are. There's no honest woman to be made of me, or any other such nonsense."

"I know that, Cissie. I've seen the mark on your arm and," Andromeda looked away from the dress. "And there were more members of the Order than just Alastor Moody at Malfoy Manor tonight. There were close to a dozen of us, hidden in the treetops waiting to ambush the Death Eaters when they converged on you in the woods. You youngsters found your own way out before there was any need, or you would have seen us. But we saw you while we waited. We saw what you did for Remus Lupin. Through his connection to you, he can control his werewolf nature. There's no more doubt of that."

Narcissa's face flushed red, troubled to hear that the private moment between her and her werewolf and his closest friends had been quietly gawked at by strangers.

Andromeda seemed to understand. "I'm glad I saw it for myself," she said. "It puts my mind at ease over many things, chief among them your safety. And now, perhaps I can ease your mind in return."

She flicked her wand and the clean but still torn dress folded itself into a neat bundle and drifted down to rest on the table in front of the sofa.

"Severus Snape is not here tonight. Dumbledore read me the note from Father asking them to send Severus to them at once. It turns out they fear he may have accidentally ingested a dangerous potion and they need to examine him. They asked for Regulus to be sent too, but he's gone missing."

Narcissa flinched with a pang of guilt.

"Yes," Andromeda said. "Cissie, you must know the Order only learned about the potions in Mother's sweets today. If we'd known, we would have done whatever we had to in order to stop them at once. It all came out tonight, when one of our spies told us that, in order to save his own skin, Malfoy confessed to Riddle that you actually haven't eaten much of his soul-hardening sweets. He needed to persuade them that the loss of you is not the tragedy it might have been for their movement."

"He's trying to blame it all on Bella now, isn't he?" Narcissa said. "Same old awful Lucius."

Andromeda nodded. "Riddle will happily blame them both. He'll hurl a few curses at them, but then he'll move on to the next plan. Knowing Bella, she'll just be grateful for the attention. No, Lucius's confession is tremendous news for us, Cissie. It means the hunt for you will no longer be Riddle's main priority. You'll always need to be careful, but you won't have to be on the run. You'll be able to enjoy as normal a life as any of us in the Order can hope for during times like these."

Narcissa blinked, beginning to unravel Andromeda's meaning. "A normal life. And you believe I need to start it off with a conventional wedding?"

"That's exactly it," Andromeda said, stepping around the table, taking Narcissa's hands. "You've humiliated Riddle and left him desperate to save face. He's going to spread stories about you being bewitched, lured and cursed into sexual slavery to a beast."

Narcissa shouted a laugh. "Enslaved? By the man I myself have been pursuing all this time?"

"See, things like that just make it sound all the more like a curse," Andromeda said. "You don't see Remus Lupin as other people do. That's beautiful, Cissie. But it also means you don't see the extreme danger other people pose to him. The pair of you could end up on the run after all if Riddle gets people riled up enough to come for Lupin with pitchforks and torches in the middle of the night, fed on lies about liberating the beautiful, pure-blooded, stolen fiancee of Lucius Malfoy."

"Lucius doesn't want me. He was running away himself - "

"It doesn't matter," Andromeda called over her voice. "Riddle has never cared about what Malfoy wants. He cares about creating a story people will believe, one that will prompt them to take action against those who oppose him. And that means against you and your loved one."

At these words, Narcissa's blood ran cold. Yes, she could see it. Even if she was of no use to the Death Eaters, they would want revenge. They would want to create division in wizard society between their movement and all others. They would want both her and Lupin to pay for it.

Andromeda went on. "You need to take control of your story. You need to make a public show of your feelings being genuine. A creature bond won't do. Nice witches and wizards don't like love stories about pretty young girls turning into Veelas and taking up with werewolves. You'll need to win them over through a traditional love story ending in a wizards' wedding. A boring, formal announcement must be made, invitations must be sent, and - and this lovely old gown must be worn."

Narcissa dropped her sisters' hands. "I can do a ceremony. We were thinking of having one anyway for the benefit of Lupin's Muggle mother. If it will keep Lupin safe, I'll have one right now. After all the bonds we've made, it's nothing but a formality. But that dress, Medie - I was promised to Lucius Malfoy in that dress. He held me in his arms and tried to force me to accept him in that dress. I know you're nostalgic about it, and that's very touching. But I just can't…"

"Please try, Cissie," Andromeda said. "This may sound mad, but while Father is grieving the loss of you tonight, Mother will be mourning the double loss of a daughter and of this dress. I can't give up the hope that, if we have it with us, the dress will show her where the future of the family is going - her family, the Rosiers. It's not with Bella. THe family's future is with you and with Dora and with Sirius, who you know Remus will ask to be his best man. A wedding in this dress may be a chance to fix the rift in this family. I honestly don't think we can survive the coming conflicts if we don't come together now."

Narcissa sat down hard on Dumbledore's sofa.

Andromeda sat beside her. "When you came to find me in the cottage a few months ago, you told me you were tired of Bella using her bad temper to pilot this family. You said you wanted to use your wedding to begin to change all that. Did you mean it, Cissie?"

She had said it. And she had meant it too. Andromeda was sitting close to her, their thighs touching. She had the feel of their mother, but Narcissa wasn't used to her sister's body anymore. Andromeda remembered the time they lived in the same house better than Narcissa did. She had loved her little sister more than Narcissa remembered, more than she knew.

"Please, Cissie," she was saying. "Marry your man and come live with us in Upper Ferum. There's a tiny guest house at the back of the garden we can fix up for your use. We'll keep each other loved and safe, and right what's gone wrong with the House of Black."

Narcissa sighed and patted Andromeda's hand where it lay on her knee. Slowly, her head began to nod. "Alright then. I don't know about Upper Ferum, but the rest - how can I argue with it? Alright. Marriage it is. Looks like I'm off to propose."

At breakfast, Hogwarts' dining hall was buzzing with the news that Lily Evans and James Potter were not a typical case of Head Boy falling for Head Girl. As everyone had seen in Rita Skeeter's coverage of the Potter funeral over the weekend, they were married. And now, they were flaunting it at school, both of them wearing wedding bands. Lily had clearly relinquished the surname Evans, announcing it by wearing James's personalized quidditch practice jacket. She was now labelled "Potter," and from the looks of the way she sat half draped over James, feeding him grades and granola, she was deliriously happy to be so. Lily was Mrs. Potter, all the family orphaned James needed, and everyone knew it.

Away from the dining hall, outside the headmaster's office, Remus Lupin was pacing, winding himself up in a frantic, tight circle. He yelped when he spun around right into Narcissa as she stepped through the door at the bottom of the staircase.

"There you are," he said, holding her upright as he knocked her off balance.

She held onto him, not realizing how weak and exhausted she was until she had to fight to regain her equilibrium. She staggered as she worked to focus her eyes on his face, as if intoxicated by her fatigue. She'd held herself tightly constrained as she met with Andromeda, but at the sight of Lupin, everything went marvelously loose. All her firm resolve about the dress and a wedding and a proposal suddenly seemed impossibly complicated, best left for later when they'd had some rest.

Lupin saw her strength flagging and held back his onslaught of questions. What Narcissa needed was quiet and support, especially if Andromeda had set her mind reeling with reasons for abandoning their bonds.

"I've got to sleep, Lupin," was all she said. "The sun is up, isn't it?"

"Yes, we can head back to the shack and sleep there," he began, taking her arm.

"No, it's too far to walk," she said. "Just take me to the Divination classroom. It should be empty while everyone's at breakfast. I'll crawl into the cushions and steal a few hours there anyway - "

Remus tutted, protesting. "You're so tired you're delirious."

"I'm not. There's nothing else for it but to sleep rough," she said. "I'm house-less in my own school. I'm not sure what Dumbledore and Slughorn were thinking. Maybe they assumed I'd go home with Andromeda but - "

"But your home is with me," he said, smothering her in an embrace, unwilling to make any more space.

In his arms, she perked up slightly. Maybe proposing wouldn't be so difficult after all.

"Gryffindor Tower should be empty by now," Remus said. "No one will even know if I take you there to sleep." Above her head, his wand was already working, casting a Disillusionment spell around her.

Nearly invisible, she closed her arms around Lupin's and laid her head against his shoulder as he led her toward the moving stairwell. "You'll stay with me, won't you?"

"Of course," he said. "Now hush so no one wonders why I'm out here murmuring so lovingly to myself."

The lads and the rest of Gryffindor were indeed gone when they arrived. The dorm room had a sunny morning light Remus was seldom there to see. What made everything look most different of all was Narcissa standing in the middle of the room, yawning as she undid the Disillusionment. All at once, Remus was keenly aware of the soiled socks jutting out from beneath Peter's bed, and the faint, lingering smell of Sirius's quidditch keeper's boots emanating from the cupboard. His own bed was rumpled from when he'd been lying on it earlier. He swooped forward to clear a heap of newly laundered shirts from the top of James's bed.

"We still pretend James lives here, so no one has used this bed in weeks. It's probably your safest bet for getting some good, sanitary sleep," he said.

But she walked past where he stood with his arms full of clothes. She was shucking off his jumper as she went, then tugging at the belt that held up the too-large wool trousers she'd borrowed from him.

"This is your bed here," she said. "The one without any stupid quidditch paraphernalia hung over it. The one with all the Defense Against the Dark Arts books piled on the table beside it."

The trousers hit the floor and she stepped out of them still wearing his white uniform shirt. It was too short for him but long enough to fall almost to her knees. He gaped as she lifted the red and gold tie over her head and unfastened the button at her neck, and then another. The effect of watching her do all of this was even stronger than when she met him in Effie Potter's black slip.

Remus voiced a small sound, as if he was about to speak before he fell speechless again. Narcissa didn't ask after what he wanted, but simply smoothed the shirt over her hips and slid between the covers of his bed, nestling her head against his pillow.

"Come on then," she said. "You know how cold I get while I sleep."

Her back was turned to him and in a great rush he changed into pajamas bottoms, pausing to consider whether he should leave his T-shirt on, and then deciding he'd better. She re-settled herself as he got into the narrow bed with her. His body was tense, never easier to seduce than it was at that moment. Knowing how tired she was, he held back his desire, reaching for her with gentleness, gauging her response.

As he curved around her, Narcissa's body was soft and welcoming, but also asleep. Her breathing was deep and even, her lips slightly parted. He breathed a laugh, willing himself to calm down, shifting his attention outside the blankets. He looked up at the beams in the ceiling, tested closing his own eyes, but there was no sleep for him yet. He glanced at the stack of books for just an instant before admitting to himself trying to concentrate on them would be futile.

There was nothing that would hold his attention more than gazing at Narcissa's face as she slept. She stirred as he lightly, slowly swept her hair behind her ear, turning to face him in her sleep. What he would have liked most after being seduced, would have been to have his questions answered. Sleeping with her mostly bare leg thrown over him, Narcissa didn't seem to be trying to leave him. If it wasn't to entreat her to do that, what had Andromeda come here in the dead of night to tell her?

He knew what he wanted to tell her as he pressed his closed mouth against her forehead. With her here, but also so far away, he found the nerve to try something, like a rehearsal of words he had decided to save for another time.

"Marry me, Cissa," he whispered. "Never sleep anywhere but with me ever again. Meet my parents and tell them we're never going to be apart. Introduce them to the idea of naming babies for the stars. Please, Cissa. Marry me."

Beneath his mouth, her head nodded. "Yes, I will."

He pulled back, startled but grinning. Her eyes were still closed and she was fighting a smile. "You little minx. You haven't been asleep at all."

She pecked a kiss on his jaw and drew him back to her. "Not really - just enough to take the edge off. Aren't you brilliant, Lupin? I thought you'd be disappointed if I was the one proposing to you this morning. So I took my clothes off and got into your bed and you were clever enough to figure the rest out for yourself."

He laughed and kissed the end of her nose in return. "You wanted this? Now? But you said it could wait."

"Well I don't think so anymore," she said. "I've already said yes and you can't take it back."

He crushed her in his arms. "No, of course I can't."

She was still speaking, muffled against his chest. "Trying to live apart is clearly ludicrous. Look at me," she said, rolling onto her back and flicking the blanket off herself. "I'm squashed into this tiny bed, dressed up in this massive shirt like a poor little urchin. Just look at me."

She didn't have to ask him a third time.

"And more than anything," she went on, lifting his chin between her fingers to draw his eyes back to her face, "it's not safe for us to be bonded but unmarried."

"Nothing's safe for us right now," he said as he rearranged the blanket over her. "How do you mean, exactly?"

She made a frustrated nonverbal complaint. "Please, Lupin. Let's not spoil this moment with a review of all the logistical problems it solves for us to be married. That's not at all romantic, darling. Not like you whispering so sweetly to me, even when you thought I couldn't hear. Babies named for stars - you've come around to Draco. How utterly perfect are you?"

She said the last bit with her lips touching his, and the kiss he'd been waiting for since he'd got into bed beside her was finally his. Wordlessly, Remus drew the bed curtains closed, and they resumed their interrupted soulbond honeymoon.