A/N: Many thanks to Muggle Jane and Krissy for looking this over. All of your reviews are just amazing! Each and every one leaves me with a smile on my face, so thank you! xx

Disclaimer: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.

Chapter 12

Sirius stared at the amber liquid in the tumbler, swirling around so the light from the fireplace reflected upon it. Closing his eyes, he knocked the drink back. He reached down by his feet, looking for the bottle. Picking it up, he was surprised by its lightness.

"Thought I had more than that," he grumbled before pouring another glass. He had drunk more than he realized, but he couldn't help it. Every time he thought of tomorrow, he had another glass.

Married. He, Sirius Black, was getting married. He never thought he'd see the day.

"James must be rolling in his grave," Sirius said with a snort.

It was true. Out of the four Marauders, Sirius was the only one who could never commit to a girl— apart from Marlene, that was.

He took another drink. It wouldn't do to think of Marlene the night before his marriage to Hermione. It wasn't fair to either of them.

Arthur had stopped by earlier in the evening to give him some words of courage.

"Arthur, what are you doing here?" Sirius asked.

"Well, Molly insisted I bring you over something to eat for dinner. She figured you were probably worrying yourself with this stress, and needed something to alleviate it."

Sirius snorted. "Is there a bottle of Firewhisky in there?"

Arthur sadly shook his head. "Afraid not, Sirius. But there is some delicious beef stew and fresh made biscuits."

"Thank you."

The two men were quiet for a moment.

"Sirius, I have to say something," Arthur began nervously.

"Yes?" Sirius prompted, already knowing that Arthur must have come over for a reason besides food.

"Hermione is like a daughter to me. I know this marriage isn't ideal for either of you, and I desperately wish things were different, but they're not. Can you promise me that you'll look after her? Her happiness means a great deal to me, so I expect you to care for her and try to make her happy. Please?"

Sirius found himself nodding. "Of course I'll do my best to make Hermione happy. She doesn't deserve any less."

"No, she doesn't. She deserves so much more than what this cruel world has given her," Arthur said sadly. "But I should get going. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good-bye, Arthur. And be sure to tell Molly thank you for the food."

Arthur nodded. "I will." He disappeared into the fireplace.

He was marrying Hermione. It was difficult for him. His emotions were switching back and forth between horror and content.

"Sirius, you in the study?" Remus's voice rang out through Grimmauld Place.

"Yes!" he called out, answering his friend.

Remus appeared a few moments later, a package in his hand. "Are you drinking?" he asked, staring at the half empty bottle at his feet.

Sirius pursed his lips, nodding curtly.

With a sigh, Remus plopped into the opposing chair. "You really shouldn't be, you know. I don't think Hermione would appreciate you being hung-over on your wedding day."

"Do you blame me, though?" Sirius questioned, arching his eyebrow. "Wouldn't you be doing the same if you were in my position?"

"I — er — well," Remus sputtered, clearly at a loss for what to say.

"Exactly. This whole ordeal is no walk in the park for me, and I found myself needing to calm my nerves the old fashioned way."

"But you should stop," Remus cautioned. "I bought you some new robes to wear for tomorrow." He motioned to the package in his hands.

"Thanks," Sirius mumbled. He stared into the fire, ignoring Remus's presence.

Remus studied his friend in the silence. It was obvious that Sirius hadn't been sleeping well the past few nights. There were dark circles under his eyes and rough stubble covered his face. He looked like a mess, and Remus was sure he smelled like one too.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he prodded gently. Maybe that would help Sirius feel better.

"I don't know where to begin," Sirius answered honestly. "I'm so conflicted. There are two versions of Hermione in my head and it just fucks with everything inside me."

"Two Hermiones?" Remus questioned.

Sirius nodded. "I look at her and see the thirteen year old girl I met. I see her awkwardness as she stands there and tries to be helpful. But then sometimes I look at her and I see this beautiful woman. A beautiful young woman who is going to marry me. It's so confusing, and it's tearing me apart." Sirius paused to take a drink. "I feel guilty, I think, for being attracted to her. She's so young, and this is just so wrong."

Remus nodded in understanding. "I know there's a large age gap, and that's making you uncomfortable, but I'm sure the two of you will adjust. You've known each other for a while so you're not total strangers with each other."

"I suppose that's a plus. It's just, I feel creepy, you know? I don't want anyone to think I'm a pedophile."

Remus couldn't help but chuckle. "Trust me, Sirius, no one thinks that. Everyone in the Order thinks what you're doing is admirable. In fact, I think a few people are jealous. I know the twins have been complaining about your marriage."

Sirius snorted. "She's beautiful, though, she doesn't deserve someone old like me."

"The age gap is going to become much more popular with this Marriage Law now," Remus replied. "Don't worry, Sirius. It'll be hard for you both at first, but you'll adjust. You're both strong people; I know you two will be all right."

Sirius was quiet.

"But that being said, it's very late. Sirius, you should get some rest."

"I don't know if I'll be able to sleep," Sirius said honestly.

"Which is why I brought a sleeping draught. Go upstairs and take it."

Sirius accepted the potion. "Thank you, Remus. You've always been a great friend, and I appreciate it."

He climbed up the stairs to his bedroom. Once inside, he took the draught, falling asleep almost instantly.

Remus crept in a few minutes later and left the robes on his nightstand. Next to them he left a calming draught and a hang-over potion, along with a note that said: 'Padfoot, I don't think Hermione would want you being hung-over. You're welcome. Love, Moony.'