The Muggle ceremony went off without a hitch.

Remus was neither dragged nor coerced into the Muggle church where he was pronounced the legal husband of Nymphadora Tonks. It was the church where Ted had attended as a boy, and despite Remus's mild discomfort with the setting, he said the vows, gave Tonks a chaste peck on her lips, and walked down the aisle with a wife on his arm. The wedding was largely attended by the Tonks clan, but three distinguished guests made an appearance to stand in for Remus's family: Minerva McGonagall, Pomona Sprout, and Poppy Pomfrey sat together, smiling and appropriately dressed as Muggles, and pretended to be Remus's great-aunts.

It was a morning wedding, followed by an elaborate breakfast at the Tonkses' home for her small, extended family, and three matronly witches. Remus had worn his three-piece suit, while Tonks wore a simple, floor-length white dress. She said it would look different for their magical ceremony, but Remus told her it was lovely all the same. She wore the necklace he gave her, which made him feel as if they were getting back on friendlier terms.

Two busy days later, they were in Hogsmeade, preparing for the wedding that Remus had dreaded for months. The Muggle one was quiet. Remus wished that had been the only ceremony, which put less attention on the unusual union, but for their marriage to be believable, they needed a magical wedding.

Remus had another fresh haircut. His navy wedding robes were sharp and expertly sewn, and paired with brown dragonhide boots. His muscles were sore with the full moon only a few days away, but a Pain Relief Potion took care of the worst of his aches. He smoothed down the front of his robes and looked in the mirror with a resigned frown.

"We're ready for you, Remus." Kingsley poked his head into the dressing room. The Auror must've seen Remus's grimace, as he added, "There are only friendly faces downstairs. The space is secure. You've got nothing to worry about." He patted Remus's shoulder and led him down the corridor to the stairs.

The upper room of The Three Broomsticks had been transformed into a miniature woodland, but it was tastefully decorated, neither over-the-top nor sparse. Remus recalled being told it would be a cross between the fairy-tale like places where both mythical nymphs and talking wolves could be found; he found it absurd at the time, but it suited the room perfectly. A flowery trellis stood on one end, with a Ministry official standing beyond it. Fairy lights, intertwined with leaves and branches lit up the room, which gave it a cozy, intimate feeling. Remus kept his eyes trained on the space at the end of the aisle where Tonks would walk in with her father and tried to ignore the flutters in his belly.

A tune began to play. The wedding party was non-existent, so only Tonks appeared with her father on her arm. Remus audibly gasped upon seeing her.

Unlike the simple white dress that she'd worn to the Muggle ceremony, the dress she wore for this one was covered in lace, something pearlescent and shimmery. It reached her knees and had sleeves down to her elbows, as well as a neckline that veered dangerously towards the indecent. Her hair was short and pink, with a leafy, blooming headband adorning it. Remus's mouth grew dry as he took in the sight of Nymphadora, who looked perfectly at ease in her habitat, as if she were a wood nymph that dwelled among mortals.

Ted brought his daughter to the trellis and shook Remus's hand, before replacing his firm grip with his daughter's soft one.

"Wotcher, Remus," she said quietly, looking up at him from dark, bewitching, twinkling eyes.

"H-hello." He lowered his voice and leaned in to whisper in her ear, unable to stop his next remark. "You look gorgeous."

A pretty, pleased smile graced her delicate features. The music faded away and the Ministry official began the ceremony.

Remus could barely tear his eyes away from Tonks throughout the proceedings. He was vaguely aware of repeating the vows promising his life, magic, and love to her, mesmerized as he was by Tonks's radiance. He couldn't believe he was so close to missing this, as selfish as the thought was. Tonks was more beautiful than he remembered and she was tying herself to a man with the ugliest curse. It was as if he were the 'big bad wolf' of the fairy tale, but instead of devouring a little grandmother, he feasted upon the fairies.

It was Tonks's gentle touch that brought him back to reality.

"Remus," she whispered, tilting her chin up at him. "It's time to kiss."

Remus knew he should merely peck her lips, like he'd done at the Muggle ceremony, but the sight of Tonks made him want more.

He took her cheek against his large palm, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone, and moved his head down. His lips captured hers for a few delicious seconds. She was warm and soft, with her mouth parted slightly for him, letting him have just a taste of her, and what a taste it was, sweet and sensual and entirely Tonks. Her surprised gasp shook him away, and he realized his other hand drifted precariously close to her backside.

Her eyes were round and her lips were still parted when he stepped back. He didn't dare look at anyone else, and when the music started up again, he set his gaze upon the end of the aisle, pointedly looking away from any prying eyes.

He and Tonks stood side-by-side, holding hands, while their guests and well-wishers milled about, waiting to greet them before supper. The space was being rearranged for the celebration, and as much as Remus wished to pay attention to the tables and chairs moving themselves to new positions, he smiled politely and thanked the guests for coming to the wedding.

If anyone noticed the lingering kiss, or his awestruck reaction to Nymphadora's appearance, no one said a word. He fought to keep the blush away from his face, ears, and neck. Tonks wouldn't look at him and he feared he'd alienated her further with his longer-than-necessary display of affection.

They were called back into the upper room. Where the trellis had stood, a tiny table for two took its place. The other guests found their seats and dinner began without much fanfare.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he murmured, trying to hide his face behind a large plate of chips. "I didn't mean to—" He sighed and cleared his throat. "—I got carried away, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that to you."

"It's okay." Tonks didn't look at him. She took her glass and had a large sip of wine. "It's probably good for our case, you know, making us look like we're madly in love, even if we aren't." There was a bitterness to her tone and Remus knew why: no one wanted to be married to someone they couldn't love.

What became painfully apparent, as Remus recalled the softness of her lips and the swell of her curves underneath his hands, was that he had married someone he could love. In fact, if given Veritaserum, he was certain he'd confess his love immediately.

And yet his wife, his saving grace from the cruelty of the Ministry, wouldn't love him.

His gloomy thoughts were broken with the sound of clinking glass. Rather than repeat the sensual kiss, Remus dutifully pressed the lightest of pecks on Tonks's lips. It was nowhere near as pleasurable, but it still tasted like her on his lips.

"You're a better kisser than I expected."

Remus gaped at Tonks, gobsmacked at her casual aside.

"I s'pose if my coworkers watched us snog, I can at least tell them you're good at it." It was hard to see in the dim light, but Remus thought she was blushing. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

Remus felt stupidly giddy that she'd complimented his kissing skills. He never thought of himself as the handsomest man, or the one with the most experience pleasing witches, but hearing that his kissing was good enough for Tonks—it elated him.

He was jittery, and noticing that Tonks was unusually quiet (though she'd been shying away from him almost all November), he kept talking.

"I meant what I said earlier," he said, creeping closer to her. "You're gorgeous."

The same, precious smile came over her face, but it didn't quite meet her eyes. They almost looked sad, troubling him.

"I'm sorry," Remus swiftly apologized. "I must be out of line."

"No, you're not." Tonks took several gulps of her wine. "Mum did a wonderful job on the dress and the decorations, don't you think?"

"She did." Remus had a bite of his dinner and turned to her. "Thank you for giving the Portkey to them. I was being foolish."

"They'll be going in April. Mum wants to see the Dutch tulips in full bloom."

Remus nodded and returned to his plate. They were spared from conversation with each other as well-wishers came by to see them. Professor McGonagall was one of them; she brought a chest with her, full of cards and letters from Remus's former students, wishing him well on his marriage.

It was a thoughtful gesture, and after reading only a few genuine, kind notes, Remus's heart felt very full.

Their dinner setup was exchanged for a short evening of dancing. Tonks and Remus had their first dance, during which he resisted the temptation to put his hands in more inappropriate locations. He held her back and hand, wishing badly that this was real and he could bring her back to their flat, not to go to their separate bedrooms, but for her to come to his bed and let him ravish her.

Tonks danced with her father, Kingsley, and Arthur, while Remus was content to dance politely with his new mother-in-law, his former professors, and Molly. Not one of them inspired the same kinds of raw, animalistic want he felt for Nymphadora, and if it wasn't for the fact that the last dance was for the newlyweds, Remus might've been able to go home without an uncomfortable tension in his trousers.

It wasn't meant to be, however, as when they were home from the wedding and Tonks needed help getting out of her dress, he was tasked with unbuttoning it. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth while his hands and fingers grazed the smooth skin of her back. He occasionally brushed her spine with his fingertips, willing his ironclad sense of self-control not to replace his fingers with his mouth.

Every lewd, highly inappropriate thought of the way he could bring her pleasure with his mouth then took hold in his mind. A split-second before Tonks could turn around to thank him for his help with the dress, he dashed to the bathroom. As he turned on the shower, he dropped his trousers, took himself in his hand, and began to pump furiously, and finally got his sweet release.

December's full moon was uneventful. Remus recovered on schedule, and when he felt well enough to Apparate over longer distances, he and Tonks appeared in the Lake District for their 'honeymoon.'

The crisp, white building stood next to a flatter, brown brick one. They were surrounded by peaks as far as the eye could see, and sheep bleated their welcome as they walked down the path to the entrance. It was lonely, and would've been the perfect site for any other couple's intimate honeymoon, but Remus wondered how he'd spend three days alone with Tonks and only frosty peaks to look forward to.

"Mum and dad said the innkeeper's got a Muggleborn witch for a sister," said Tonks, once they reached the gate, as if she could trace his thoughts. "She's got an Apparition point nearby and suggestions for where to go for the best views without having to hike for them."

Remus was relieved to hear it. He didn't mind hiking or trekking up the peaks, but after the full moon and the cooler weather, he didn't want to spend several days exerting himself.

The innkeeper welcomed them heartily and provided a nicer room than what the Tonkses originally booked. "A gift for the newlyweds," she'd said, leading them to a large room with a single, massive bed. A tray of petite tea cakes was waiting for them on it.

The door closed behind them and Remus blinked at the room, trying not to focus his attention on the one bed in it.

"We could put pillows between us?" Tonks suggested, looking away from him. "If you're really that uncomfortable sharing a bed. I don't think either of us would like three nights on the floor and that bed is huge, big enough for four of me."

Remus was ready to volunteer to sleep in the large porcelain tub in the in-suite bathroom, but as he was trying to get back in Tonks's good graces, he agreed to her solution. He hadn't seen much of her since the night of their wedding, which was a high point for them after a distant November, and he was encouraged by their easier conversation.

They put the tray of snacks in the sitting room and unpacked. Tonks was unsurprisingly hungry, so they went down to the main floor, where the innkeeper anticipated their needs. A warm, tasty meal sated them, and as the sun had set, there was little else to do but go back up to their room.

Remus brought a few books with him and offered to read, but Tonks shrugged and turned on the telly. She scrolled through the channels until she found something to hold her interest. The jaunty theme lured him in and soon they were both captivated by an offbeat family and their oddly named children, Wednesday and Pugsley.

"Do you know what the Bermuda Triangle is?"

"A legend, I think," Remus replied, watching the characters on screen. "Where sailors get lost in a part of the ocean."

Tonks hummed a reply and yawned. The film came to an end and she turned off the telly, rising to excuse herself to get ready for bed. Remus did the same, taking his turn in the bathroom, and when Tonks looked tiredly down at the bed. She started arranging pillows, but he stopped her and held his breath.

"It's a big bed . . . there's room for both of us."

Tonks mumbled her thanks and tucked herself into the left side of the bed. Remus paused, hand trembling, and pulled back the covers on the right side.

They turned off their lights and Remus lay perfectly still, afraid to move even an inch from the edge of the mattress. The low fire in their fireplace was down to smoldering embers, which cast the suite in a cozy, dim light, leaving weak shadows to dance on the ornamental wallpaper.

Tonks was restless; she tossed and turned, jostling the bed, and Remus closed his eyes, hoping sleep would take him soon. Tonks eventually stopped moving and Remus flipped to his side.

"Remus?"

"Yes?"

"I need to ask you something."

Remus froze instantly.

"Yes?" he croaked.

"Why is it," she said shakily, "that the moment we get close, you run away from me?"

It felt as if a particularly nasty Stunning Hex had hit him in the chest.

"I don't understand you. We get close, friendly, and things will be okay . . . and then you shut me out. Is it something I say? Something I do? We're going to be in this for a while and—" A pained, almost whimpering sound came from her. "—I don't understand. I'm trying to figure out what I've got myself into. I don't want to be like this, where I'm never sure if we're friends, or . . . or . . ."

The mattress creaked and Remus heard the rustling of clothes.

"I keep making a fool of myself. Is that it? Is that why, Remus? Because you hate me? I annoy you? I know I'm messy, and I never say the right thing, and I've got a temper, but what is it? I don't want . . . if we're going to live together for years and years, I need to know. Why do you do this to me? Why do you keep hurting me—you—us—by running away?"

Remus held the blanket up to his chest, clutching it tightly, willing his brain to work. The rustling sounds disappeared as Tonks stopped in her tracks. He opened his eyes and saw her delicate silhouette in the shadowy, orangish light. Through the darkness, he saw her glistening eyes and pale cheeks, and the thin clothes she wore didn't hide the curvaceous swell of her breasts, which moved with her hurried, uneven breaths.

Her face turned and he saw something raw and tender in her eyes. He'd seen the look before, the night he told her about the Portkey. It was hurt—she was hurting and he had been the cause. She was nothing but honest with him, and he didn't want her to feel defective. She had done everything right—and then some—and he'd spurned her friendship and help.

"Remus—please will you just say something?" Tonks ran her fingers through her spiky hair and sighed. "Even if it's to tell me that I've gone and done it again, made a fool of myself and—"

"—it was never because of you, Tonks. Never."

She looked him in the eye and grasped at the base of her neck, where the iridescent pearl he'd given her lay against her spotless skin.

"Then what was it?"

Remus couldn't have this conversation like this, lying on his side while she looked down on him. He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, knowing there was little to lose. They were married; any admission of his feelings would earn her disgust or disdain, but she couldn't leave him. He had trapped her, completely and shamefully, and this would be the coup d'état, the final offense of being tied to a werewolf. She would see him for what he truly was: a lecherous, selfish beast.

"I like you, Tonks," he said quietly, staring at his feet. "More than I should. It was always to spare you from this—from me. I was running from you and from what I felt. I'm disgusted with myself for thinking—" He closed his eyes and dropped his face into his hands. "—you're everything I ever wanted, and I know who I am. I'm not a good man. I'm not even human."

He let his hands fall to his sides and gathered the resolve he had left to meet her eyes, the twinkling, dark eyes that haunted him daily and nightly.

"I'm sorry. You don't deserve this."

"Is that why you kissed me like that?" Tonks inched closer, reaching her arm out to graze her fingers along his thigh. "At our wedding?" Remus hung his head in shame.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

Remus's neck snapped up. Tonks was in front of him, her knees touching his, her hand dancing along his arm.

"You're . . . not?"

"No." A soft, warm hand found his jaw, holding it gently. "Do you trust me, Remus?"

Remus nodded. "With my life."

"Would you trust me if I told you I never wanted that kiss to end?"

Tonks put her finger on Remus's parted, shocked lips, preempting his attempted protests. She lingered for a moment and took her finger away, replacing it a fraction of a second later with her rosy, soft, delicious lips.