Chapter Fourteen: Checkmate(s)

Moody's shocking words made Elodie feel the way she had in the Forbidden Forest when she'd watched Barty Crouch, Jr. fire a spell at her. This time, Remus's soothing spell had occurred too early, so the words that flew across the room to fell her retained their effect. She was disoriented, pulled in multiple directions, all at the highest priority.

The most important thing pushed to the forefront.

"Okay, first of all," Elodie said, holding a 'stop' palm out toward each man and scrunching her eyes shut. "You have two sentences to tell me where Sirius is."

"Knockturn Alley, getting supplies. Lupin and I are known associates, and I'll need reagents for the wedding rites. Oh, don't look at me like that, girl! My Glamour spells are legend in the Ministry."

"That was more than two sentences," Remus said dryly.

"You two need to talk this out," Alastor said, stomping toward the bedroom door. Suspicious, Elodie moved to grab her wand from where she'd left it on the bed. Moody continued; "We'd be foolish not to think Parker will pick the full moon for this plan of his. That's what, three days?" He stepped through the doorway and lifted his wand.

Remus said, "Two," even as Elodie fired off a swift Expelliarmus, so chosen because she saw that Remus was about to cast as well. As she expected, Alastor defended against her disarming spell, but Remus struck his target: the door, which disappeared.

"Nice one," she murmured, tracing out a Jelly Legs Jinx twice in a row, both of which hit Alastor's Protego Maxima spell, but before she started a third, Remus actually came over and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. Moody took that opportunity to stump off down the hall.

"Shall we?" Remus asked, nodding toward where the old wizard was heading.

"Right behind you," she said, closing her eyes rather than looking at him. The sheer weight of what she and Sirius had done in the depths of passion was dragging her down, just like she'd worried it would.

Any list she could come up with to ease her mind would likely scramble it, instead, but Elodie used magic to at least send her discarded trousers into the laundry bin before following Remus out of the room. His head was bowed and his hands clenched and relaxed in a rhythmic motion. She wanted to comfort him, but she was the cause of his consternation.

Moody was facing the fireplace. She got the impression that he wanted to avoid discussing what he'd just attempted, and that was fine with her. It was hardly the first time (and certainly wouldn't be the last) impulsive thing Moody had tried out of misguided sense that he knew what was best. Remus didn't confront him either, walking straight into the kitchen instead.

"Is this working out the way you planned?" Elodie whisper-hissed at Moody on the way to the couch.

"No," he coughed out, turning around to fix her with his characteristically intense glare. "You didn't research Triads, did you, witch? Irony! The one time you held yourself back."

Elodie curled up on her spot and grabbed one of the pillows, partly to hug out her aggression. "You're one to talk about restraint, Mad-Eye. Did you put Sirius up to going out?"

He ignored that too, which probably meant 'yes.' "Wondered when you'd call me Mad-Eye again! Think Lupin'll tip some whiskey into the tea he's in there brewing?"

"For you, no," Remus said from the doorway.

"You need it! What a pair of scholars you are! Should have just done the necessary at Grimmauld instead of trying to show off how smart ya were."

Elodie crossed her arms and glared at him, but to her surprise, Alastor started laughing so hard he had to lean on his staff.

"That blood purist dolt and his thralls won't know what hit 'em, but only if the three of you can get yer heads out of yer arses!" He looked straight at Elodie, and something in her expression seemed to sober him up. "Joint decision, to send Black out. I swear to ya. But he might've been happier to face Azkaban than you two!"

"He told you we're without Wolfsbane this month, yes?" Remus said in his dispassionate academic voice. His use of 'we' reached straight into her heart.

"Aye, son, he did. Lucky break, that."

Remus's voice practically dripped scorn. "Alastor."

Elodie got up and walked over to the fireplace, standing between it and Moody in a bid to stop him from Flooing away. "What did your informant tell you that had you risking one man's life and ruining the other's?"

"Elodie, what-" Remus started, but she rounded on him, furious.

"You might be used to your other friends accepting your misery as a matter of course but not me! Even when I disagree with you, I have tried to bow to your choices, and you made this one abundantly clear! Whatever changed your mind has to be grievous, and I demand to know what it is!"

Remus looked rumpled and worn down, his shoulders hunched defensively. He actually looked away from her as he spoke. "You said it already. Traditional vows include a magical binding against infidelity. You've breathed life into Sirius- even if you broke up to satisfy the physical separation, your feelings for each other would violate it."

For such a huge change in their lives, it was almost too simple… but he was right. Just like with Gâteaufidél, the magic would know.

The kettle started whistling, and Remus dipped his head in a little nod of respect and headed in to deal with it. Behind them, the Floo flared to life. She'd marched into the middle of the room to yell at Remus, and Moody took that opportunity to leave, just like she'd known he would.

"The brave Auror ran away," she murmured to herself, frowning at the fireplace. "Will the professor?"

"Come fix your tea, Elodie," Remus called out.

"Afraid it'll be too symbolic if you know how to make it for me?" she teased as she walked in, hoping to lighten the mood. Remus was ahead of her, though. He gestured at the lineup on the counter: three different kinds of alcohol.

"I put some of the cinnamon one in mine," he said, lifting his glass in a salute that drew her eyes up to his. His gaze was sober but wry, and Elodie felt a rush of warmth pace through her as if she'd already sipped some whiskey-laced tea. You might get to openly love this man. You might HAVE to. She steadied herself on the counter and picked up the largest bottle, a double-strong version of Firewhiskey that Sirius had ordered on a lark. Delivery had taken three owls.

She had to hand it over for Remus to help when she couldn't get the cap off.

"So you went from hard no to soft yes in, what? Two hours?" It seemed unbelievable that she'd slept through the process of changing his mind!

He took a long sip before answering. "When James decided to use Fidelius, all of us knew we'd be targets. I should have realized he couldn't pick me, not when I didn't have control over myself a hundred percent of the time. But I was willing to give my life to protect him and his family, and I still am."

Elodie was pouring as he spoke, and his last sentence made her jerk in surprise, dumping in more alcohol than she'd intended. Give his life? Her rash reference to a 'ruined life' was similar, but she'd meant ruined promises, not a sacrifice. Remus offered her the teapot to dilute her mistake, but she demurred, twisting the cap back on the bottle and taking a large, defiant sip.

It burned, but so did she, right now, so she used all her strength not to show that. As childish as the instinct was, she wanted to hit back.

"So you have and always will be willing to do your duty, then," she said after winning the fight to swallow the over-saturated mixture. "Good to know."

Without waiting to hear his response, she walked out into the living room and sank into her seat, hot and cold with excitement and anxiety. Alastor was right: she hadn't looked up a thing. She'd been afraid of what she might find. She still was.

Remus hadn't followed her out, and Elodie wasn't sure she had the strength to go back in there, even though they had to talk about this. As another painful sip of her whiskey-laced tea burned a path to her stomach, the thought occurred to her that Remus probably felt beaten. He'd resisted her, she'd given up- and yet here they were.

The fact that he wasn't spending the evening researching an alternative meant there probably wasn't one. Elodie mentally traveled back in time, looking for something she could have changed to avoid their situation. The only thing she found was a shocking truth:

While there was a path for Sirius to duck the Triad part, there was no way Remus could avoid marrying her. He was the only person whose combination of diminished social standing, historic connection to the Potters, and intellectual reputation reassured the Ministry their little family wasn't a threat. Add to that her ability to make his Wolfsbane and their proximity to Harry's legal guardian, and it was obvious the two of them were the best choice to keep Harry safe.

The Dursleys' death had made their union practically inevitable.

She sucked in a stunned breath.

"There it is," he said as he walked into the living room, holding his hand out for her cup. "I changed my mind. You've got enough alcohol in there to forget the entire conversation, and I need you clear-minded for this." Remus drained the last from his own. "I'm fortified for your 'I told you so.'"

"I would never say that," she told him, moving her teacup out of his reach.

"But you'll joke about me 'doing my duty,' like I see this as some sort of burden!" With a murmured spell, he magicked away her tea right out of the cup. "Doing what's right for Harry isn't a burden. Caring about you isn't a burden."

"Oh, for-" Her heart aching from his obvious falsehood, Elodie plopped the now-empty china down on the couch and stood up. "I'm not going to stay here and listen to you lie to me." She pushed past him, but Remus's hand shot out and caught her wrist. "Let go."

"You know I can't," he gritted out. "How many columns have I written about the nuance between two similar words? It's not lying."

Elodie just looked back at him, letting her disbelief shine in her expression.

"It's not lying!" he repeated. "Caring about you isn't the burden, Elodie. Wanting you is. Needing you is." At that last part, his voice turned hoarse, and he stepped close, dropping his lips onto the top of her head.

"Is it possible to weave spells into sentences? Because that was a stunner," she whispered, trying her best not to sag back against him. How long had she hoped to hear Remus say something like that, even if it was torn from him in frustration! His thumb swept along her wrist like a silent, wandless Conflagrate.

"I don't deserve this," Remus whispered in a low, tortured tone.

"Take it as a counterpoint to not deserving being bitten?" she offered.

His weary, uncertain 'Mmm' in response resonated against her hair. A moment later, he lifted his head. "Sirius doesn't deserve this."

Ten different refutations leapt to her lips, but instead Elodie said, "Are you putting me in a position to argue for a Triad?"

Remus tensed. He released her arm, but Elodie caught his in return, reaching back with her other hand to snag his belt loop and halt his retreat. She couldn't hope to be stronger than he was, but the situation was delicate.

"Stay. We have to talk this out."

"Elodie-"

"Do you want to look me in the eye during this conversation?"

Remus made a small sound of affectionate frustration. They were standing so close that she felt the burst of air on her neck. "You are overestimating my ability to concentrate with you near, both physically and metaphorically," he chided. "But no, I don't. Can we sit?"

He really was the smartest person she knew. She could lean against him on the couch, but the lengths of their bodies wouldn't be pressed together the way they were now. Elodie almost teased that he could find the surest way to create distance in any situation, but nodded silently instead.

The two of them settled onto the couch with Remus in her usual spot and Elodie beside. She curled her legs up against him, her pulse leaping at the way he angled his arm around her, encouraging her to rest her head on his chest. She hadn't expected that! This was every taboo on offer, every one, because he'd said he wanted her, that he needed her, and the way his heart raced under her cheek bore that out.

They sat, letting their quickened breaths slow in silence. Elodie watched Remus's right hand loosen from its fist where he'd rested it on his thigh, and it wasn't until it was fully unwound that she spoke.

"Are you all right?"

His chuckle shook her body, something she'd always enjoyed in private moments with Sirius. "Not really."

"I'm sorry, Remus."

"I'd rather you weren't."

It was her turn to let out a laugh. "Good thing I was mostly being polite, then." In a rush that didn't diminish the hardened steel she infused in her voice, Elodie said, "I'm sorry you're so tortured by this, Remus, but I'm not sorry you'll have to let yourself be loved."

"On a crusade, are you?" he asked, after a long moment.

She sniffed. "Yes, actually. Here's hoping the Order ends up faring better than the Templars did."

"You really have no idea how perfectly you-" he cut himself off, and she imagined him shaking his head and running a hand through his hair, based on the muscle movements she could feel secondhand.

Her eyes were closed, so Elodie didn't know Remus was reaching for her until he'd taken her hand from his chest and lifted it to his lips. She always, always guarded herself against letting him see or sense how she felt, but this time there was no time to prepare. The tiny sound of joy that left her lips was the least of her reaction -pulse through the roof, blood turned to wine, an aching in her heart that sank precipitously to places she still didn't think she had a right to associate with him- but it was the noise that seemed to turn Remus's body to stone.

Dismayed, she tried to get up and run away.

It was foolish, of course. Remus was faster than her even when he wasn't in his full moon week, but now? Now, she scarcely got her feet to the floor before he had both hands holding her still by her upper arms, stopping her from standing up.

"How-" Remus's shock made him fumble the question. He cleared his throat and started over, even as Elodie fought her inward desire to pull out her wand and make him let her go. His question wasn't at all what she had expected, though. "How much of that bottle did you put in there?"

"What?"

"You're dosed, Elodie. You-"

Elodie started laughing.

"That was not the reaction I was expecting either! You are the most unpredictable witch I've ever-" he broke off, huffed out a sigh, and said, in a resigned voice, "Promise me you won't run off?"

She didn't want to promise any such thing.

After a minute of silence, Remus rested his head on her back for a split second and gentled his grip. "Elodie…"

"Tell me why you think I'm drunk."

He sat silent and unmoving.

"I had three sips at most, Remus! Do you still doubt how I feel? After being able to sense it in technicolor?" she asked after a minute, exasperated. "If I'm unpredictable, you're the opposite! You always choose the least favorable interpretation, even after hearing me answer questions about you under a truth serum! How could you ever doubt that I lov-"

Remus interrupted her with a hand on her mouth, along with his objection. "There are different kinds of love, aren't there? Yes, I can sense how you feel, but what I usually sense from you is an abiding, humbling friendship. They're feelings I absolutely return, for what it's worth. I assumed the serum was affected by what you believed was true, however misguided." He let out a breath as if to steady himself and continued. "But what I sensed a moment ago was… something else."

Inside her mind, Elodie screamed as loudly as she could. He was so infuriating!

"Well that was loud and clear," he said in amusement, dropping his hand.

"Good!" She twisted her upper body to dislodge his grip. "I hid my feelings from you because I assumed that evidence of them would distress you. It's so infuriating to have my skill in doing that used against me!"

"I hadn't considered that," he said quietly.

"I could have laid siege to you, you know. You asked me not to." Elodie glanced back.

Remus's head was angled down, his eyes closed tightly. As she watched, he pulled in a breath and lifted his head to look at her. Elodie caught her breath. He looked hopeful, for all the struggle that was written on his face.

"With this guardianship thing, I've had to segregate my feelings even more than normal. Breaking a promise I made to myself as a young man is one thing, but it hurts Sirius, and I'd done that for long enough, don't you think?"

"Sirius knew from day one how I felt about you. It almost seemed like he didn't want me to get over that- remember the Task?" As she spoke, Elodie turned around, sliding to kneel on the floor and lean against the front of the couch. She grabbed one of his hands in hers, bending her head to kiss it before clasping it in her two. He didn't pull away, which was something, at least. "But, isn't this similar, in an odd way? Back then, you were the one with the least power to help him. He was in prison, you'd been told he was the villain who killed your best friend! Sirius is volatile, passionate, sometimes ridiculous-" she faceplanted on the cushion for a few seconds; "-but ultimately, he wasn't angry with you, despite everything. It was all beyond your control."

"I'll concede that."

"This is the same thing! Hell, you've done your very best to avoid anything but friendship, stymied by Sirius himself sometimes." She'd meant to reassure him that he wasn't betraying his best friend, but the next logical thing to say would be something positive about the Triad. "Oh goddamnit, Remus!"

He blinked. "What?"

"Somehow I'm arguing in favor!"

Remus shifted the hand between hers to tangle their fingers together, keeping his eyes on hers. Elodie let herself feel, meaning that a light wave of desire and affection swept through her from the friction.

"No fair," she teased. His eyebrows shot up in question. "You're employing a cheap distraction technique."

Remus's surprised blink was manufactured this time. "No, I-"

The fireplace flared to life at just that moment, and Sirius breezed out. Remus squeezed her hand and pulled free, but the squeeze told her he was being prudent, not skittish. Rebelliously, she didn't move away from him despite basically being on her knees at his feet, though she did turn toward the fireplace.

It was difficult to focus on Sirius's face, probably because of the powerful Glamour Moody had cast on him. He had his rucksack on his shoulder, but his clothes were unfamiliar, more of an archaic, 'batty wizard' style than he usually wore.

"Don't stop on my account," he said, his strangely blurred facial expression fracturing into a grin as he nodded toward the two of them.

His reaction acted like a thawing agent for Elodie, but Remus's reaction was stronger.

"Oh, grow up, Sirius!" Remus struggled to his feet, uncharacteristically knocking her to the side in his haste. He moved around to the back of the couch to swipe the cup and saucer from the far end of the couch before stalking into the kitchen.

"It's always fun when he gets so worked up he reverts to housekeeping," Sirius told her, dropping his bag to the floor beside her. He leaned all the way down to give her a quick kiss. "Looking a little frazzled, witch. Is it finally time for that three person shower?"

There was a sharp sound of something breaking in the sink.

"Oops," Sirius said, sounding unrepentant. There was an air of manic carelessness about him that made Elodie very worried.

"I thought you'd be hours yet," she said, crawling back up into her spot on the couch. Remus's warmth still remained, for all that he'd emotionally pulled away.

Sirius stretched and frowned down at his shirt, which was a thick velvet number that hung mid-thigh. In a swift movement, he pulled it off over his head and tossed it at her, crouching down to rummage in his bag for something else to wear. It smelled wrong, and Elodie threw it right back. Sirius's responding laugh was too loud and long for the situation. At least the disconcerting visual illusion had mostly faded.

"Yeah, might burn these," he told her, shoving down his trousers without any warning.

"Sirius!" she protested. He wasn't wearing anything underneath!

"What? At this point it's all in the family, isn't it?"

"It isn't," Remus said in clipped tones, standing in the kitchen doorway. The dish-towel on his shoulder bore a shocking splash of red. "In point of fact, any actions I take beyond safeguarding Harry would be to protect Elodie from the consequences of her association with you."

Elodie pulled her legs up underneath her and scanned Remus for injuries while the two men glared at each other. She suspected he'd accidentally crushed her teacup in his hand just as he'd done at Grimmauld and then healed it. For his part, Sirius was standing tall, naked from the waist down, hands aggressively balling up the jeans he'd been about to put on.

"Go into this with that attitude and watch everything get fucked around us," he said, his eyes glittering with vitriolic humor. "You're still hiding behind all the lies you told yourself to stay sane. When that caves in, you're still in a hell of your own making. Believe me."

He shook out the trousers and stepped into them, jerking them on and up so roughly she was certain it was meant as self-punishment. In any other situation, Elodie might have tossed out that soothing spell she'd just been thinking about, but she couldn't even imagine what Remus might think, given the possible parallels there.

"Do you need a moment?" Remus asked dryly.

"What, did you want to be the only ball-buster I have to deal with?"

Elodie tried valiantly not to laugh, which was made more difficult by the way Remus pressed his thumb and first finger into his eyes while sighing. The only good thing about him having reached his 'exasperated professor' level was that she could forge ahead with what needed to be done.

"Okay, we're clearly all in various states of disarray about this, but nothing's been settled. Maybe we can establish the fact pattern and our resulting plan before we all devolve entirely?"

"Oh, all three of us are non-magical amoebas at this point, love," Sirius told her. "Mad-Eye had an inkling; he told me he'd take care of the last two items and sent me packing."

"Kindly do not relay any helpful quotes from that conversation," Remus said.

"What about cheeky ones?" Sirius threw himself onto the couch, stretching both arms out along the back. He tossed his hair back, looking at the ceiling as he spoke. "Short version: Mad-Eye's got a chum holding things together in the Aurory. Our guy on the inside. Seems that 'test the vows' is the compromise versus the heavy surveillance and harassment plan Big Vee's minions were trying to push."

"Surveillance would definitely be worse," Remus said, dropping into his own chair.

"Well, his contact was apparently very put out by the pressure, so much so that he contacted Mad-Eye to make sure you two were prepared. Obviously he doesn't know about the complication-" at this, Sirius pointed at himself with both thumbs; "-but the man was bright enough to figure a werewolf might have skipped some of the traditional vows. Mad-Eye said he made specific mention of the infidelity and obedience ones."

"Wait, obedience?" Elodie asked, wide-eyed.

"See? Self-knowledge, that's what that is. In her mind, she knows we'll sort the infidelity thing," Sirius said, waving a hand dismissively. "Obedience, though… that's going to be a problem. Isn't she adorable, Remus?"

Remus cleared his throat, not looking at either of them. "Forced obedience vows are illegal now, Elodie," Remus told her, flipping through a book he'd pulled from his own side table without really looking at it. "Alastor mentioned there being an alternative that involves something called 'necessary compliance,' something that's limited to using the the vowed authority to prevent harm. He seemed pretty certain he could substitute it, given the alternative, the harm Harry'd face in an unfriendly household."

"That's comforting, I guess," she said. "I assume/hope it's a one-way vow?"

Sirius snorted, but Remus said, "Yes. Our traditions cut quite a swathe through the centuries, don't they? We've got our toes dipped in the sixteenth at this point."

"Fun fact, the first documented Triad was formed in the sixteenth century," Sirius said.

"Padfoot-" Remus started, sounding annoyed, but Sirius reached over and snagged Elodie's forgotten pillow and hurled it across the room at the werewolf. It hit just hard enough to knock the book down. Remus kicked out his foot faster than a human ever could, deflecting the book up so he could snatch it out of midair. His movements reminded her with a jolt that there were three distinct male personalities she was faced with binding herself to.

Remus caught her astonished gaze with gold-rimmed eyes. Suddenly, she wondered whether he might seem so weary and worn-down not just because he was hurt or disappointed, but also from fighting Moony for full control.

"I wondered where you were, old friend," Sirius said.

"How much energy did it take to hold him at bay?" Elodie asked.

"Not enough, clearly," Remus told her through gritted teeth. He set the book down carefully and then concentrated for a few seconds, his eyes closed and his head bowed.

Sirius launched himself from the couch toward Remus, skidding on his knees for the final foot of distance. He grabbed the other man's face in his large hands and said, "Don't."

Remus made a pained noise and dragged one of Sirius's hands away. "I have to, don't you see? Too important to leave to instinct," he said in a low, impassioned voice.

From where she was sitting enthralled, Elodie could see the gentle brush of Sirius's remaining thumb against Remus's face. Far from feeling jealous, she was struck by the power in such a gesture from someone who had been so crude and careless, minutes before.

"When was the last time it was wrong, hmm?" Sirius asked, almost too quietly for her to hear. Remus's eyes opened clear of gold. He shook his head a fraction, and Sirius clasped his hand with his own, shook it a little as if to jar loose the memories which would answer his question. Impatient as he was, though, he started to answer himself. "You trusted your instincts at Hogwarts and let us in. You trusted them when you sniffed something foul about the Marauders, it just wasn't in time. You trusted them when everyone told you I was the betrayer, didn't you? Had to keep that one hidden deep in that golden heart of yours."

"Sirius, there were-"

But Sirius wasn't done. "You trusted them enough to risk being a professor for the chance to teach Harry. You trusted your instincts when they told you to be Elodie's friend! But everything after that was Lupinine self doubt, wasn't it?"

Remus reached out to grip Sirius's shoulder. "I hear you. I hear you," he rasped. "But you weren't there for all the times my instincts were wrong. This- you, are too important." He hooked his fingers around Sirius's hand on his cheek and tugged, their joined hands falling to Remus's lap along with the other two. Remus shook both of them for emphasis. "Give me the night to wrestle with that other part of me. I just need some assurances, both for myself, and for the two of you."

Sirius tipped his head sideways. Though Elodie couldn't see his expression thanks to the angle, she was certain he was narrowing his eyes. After a long, tense moment, he nodded.

"Good, because this is killing my knees." With that, he got up and slouched over to the couch, slotting up beside her possessively.

Elodie looked over at Remus, who was rubbing his face with one hand. "How is it only six in the evening?" he asked, as if they'd not just been having an incredibly emotional and tender conversation.

"What just happened?" she couldn't help but ask. She'd missed about six levels of unspoken communication.

"We skipped past the part where you'd probably jump at tying the knot and landed at 'werewolves are complicated,'" Sirius said with a vague hand movement. He nuzzled her shoulder with his nose. "Moody says ritual prep will take twelve hours. If Parker's going to test you two on the full moon- and that prime asslobster probably will, then we'll want to get it done right away. That means…"

He pulled his wand out and tapped the tip against his lip for a few seconds.

Remus stood up. "All right, whatever you're about to do is almost certainly grandiose, and you know Elodie is going to say yes anyway, so I'll go ahead and-"

"Hold your hand out," Sirius commanded him.

"Padfoot-"

"You owe me."

Elodie swatted his arm. "Sirius!"

"Not because of Azkaban, before!" Sirius protested, hauling himself to his feet. "Look, I'll do it too." He held his non-wand hand out palm up in front of him.

"Elodie, I advise you to go feed Buckbeak. Whatever off the cuff thing he's got planned for you is probably the stuff of holiday stories for years to come," Remus said, groaning.

"Wild centaurs couldn't drag me from this spot," she told him, heart pounding with the possibility that she was right about what Sirius was about to do. After all, he'd already proposed to her, not that Remus knew that. "Hand out."

"Fine."

"Finally!"

Sirius spoke a vaguely recognizable spell and swished his wand. An ornate inkpot appeared on his palm. Remus was now holding an ostrich feather quill so large it stretched across his wrist and onto his arm. In a lunging move, Sirius dipped to one knee- in front of Remus.

Elodie caught her breath. So did Remus.

"Be the quill to my ink, Remus? With your way with words and my propensity to make a complete bloody mess, it's quite a match, don't you think?"

Weakly, Remus said, "But, Elodie-"

"Got her own proposal days back, before any of this nonsense reared its head. Was supposed to be mostly formal, guardianship shit, but she knows I adore her. Moody was already prepping to officiate."

The feather shook along with Remus's hand. "So I'm stepping all over your-"

"Say yes or I'll start making 'nib' jokes, Remus," Sirius said meaningfully. "There's a whole host of comments about dipping and dripping that I haven't even delved-"

"Sirius!" Elodie gasped.

Remus had dropped both arms to his sides, but Elodie saw that he was holding the quill in a tight grip. "You don't have to do this," he whispered.

"I do," Sirius said. He shot an impish look at her. "See, I'm practicing some of the vows already."

"You are-" Remus stopped himself, his cheeks slightly flushed. "Predictably outrageous. Yes. To save your knees, Harry's life, and Elodie's sanity."

"Brilliant," Sirius grinned, popping up and giving a little spin in place. "Now, if you want to keep that quill, you should know that I magically nicked it from Dumbledore's private study, so hide it away when he visits, yeah?"