Chapter 1 – The Wedding

The late morning sunlight shone softly through the arched, stained-glass windows. The coloured beams of light cut through the air as Sirius looked down the length of the nave towards the closed wooden doors at the far end of the centre aisle. He knew he should recognise the piece of music that was softly playing in the background – he'd always been good with music – but it was all washing over him so quickly, he wasn't able to recognise a single note.

His chest felt tight.

It was hard to breathe.

He'd have pulled at the collar of his Muggle morning suit, but that would have been too much of a give-away.

This was supposed to be a grand occasion. A symbol for everyone else who had to follow after them. A setting of the bar. A statement.

And there weren't any magical creatures to hand this time, so he couldn't hightail it out of there on the back of something large with wings. Looking at the whitewashed interior with its ornate cornices, brass plaques, and dark oak pews, Sirius tried to imagine Buckbeak hiding somewhere along the walls of the old church.

Actually, with his pompous attitude, that damned hippogriff probably would have fit right in.

Sirius closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. Now was not the time to lose it – though it was very tempting.

It didn't help that the guests on either side of the aisle looked positively ghastly. The church held the maddest mix of Muggles and magical folk that Sirius had ever seen. James and Lily's wedding had been bizarre in its own way, but that had been decades ago, and at least then they'd managed to keep the whole thing relatively small; Lily's family had been and gone in what seemed like a matter of moments.

By comparison, this was just… ridiculous.

The pews were packed, but almost entirely with wizards and witches. The few Muggles among the invited guests were, thankfully, sitting close to the front, and not quite as exposed as they might have been to some of the zanier sartorial choices behind them. In deference to the grandness of the day, many of the guests had done their very best to dress like Muggles on a formal occasion… and failed spectacularly.

The hats on several of the witches seemed to be demonically possessed; one befeathered creation had actually flown up to the wooden rafters before a fast, well-aimed wand-flick from Kingsley Shacklebolt at the back of the nave had made it disappear. A few of the locals down from Hogsmeade had confused formal Scottish dress-kilts with full-on Pictish battle gear, complete with blue-woad face paint.

Cornelius Fudge – recently reappointed as Minister for Magic, much to Sirius' chagrin – had known enough to wear a proper British morning suit, complete with pin-striped trousers and a shiny waistcoat. But then he had gone and twinned it with his ever-present green bowler hat, making him look nearly as bizarre as the rest of the congregation.

And poor Arthur Weasley had somehow managed to squeeze himself into an ancient 1970s-era powder-blue tuxedo, complete with pleated ruffles and black piping down the trouser legs.

All together, the congregation looked more like a mad-cap fancy-dress party than a traditional spring wedding.

By comparison, Sirius looked almost regal. He wore dark-grey striped trousers and a silver waistcoat with a hidden paisley pattern that shimmered when it caught the light. His lucky silver pocket-watch was with him, its Double Albert fob threaded through the waistcoat's buttonhole. In an effort to be just a little bit his old self, he'd chosen a dress shirt that was bright blue instead of white, but the collar was still stiff and formal. His classic dark-red tie with tiny white polka dots was in a Windsor knot; Tonks had kept retightening it until he had banished her to her pew. A black morning coat that snugly hugged the contours of his body finished the look.

Sirius could mightily appreciate Muggle fashion in such a high-end style – he just wished he wasn't wearing it for this particular occasion.

Remus moved closer to Sirius' side and clapped his hands on his fellow Marauder's shoulders. It probably looked matey to anyone watching, but Sirius knew better: it was a slap to bring him back to reality. Moony was one of the few people in the room who knew what was really going on today.

This wedding was a total sham.

Wasn't it?

"You're doing a good thing, Padfoot," murmured the werewolf beside him.

Without looking away from the west doors of the church, Sirius mumbled, "Don't you mean she is? She's the one saving my arse here, isn't she?"

"Of course. But it's also good for you. For both of you."

"Fat chance."

"Pads. It is."

"She's sacrificing herself for me, and I'm letting her. It's complete shite."

"Then why are we up here?"

"Because I couldn't think of any other way out of this!" hissed Sirius, shooting his oldest friend a disgruntled look.

Remus' fingers slipped off Sirius' shoulders. "Do you want to leave?"

"No. Of course, not."

"Are you sure?"

Sirius closed his eyes and prayed for strength. "You couldn't have asked me that three weeks ago?"

"I did."

"And I said 'no' then, and I'm saying 'no' now. I won't leave Harry. Or you."

Remus' mouth quirked to one side. "Just us? No one else comes to mind?"

Sirius' answering glare was narrow and sharp. "Piss off."

"I suppose it is a bit late in the day now for another dramatic escape."

"Exactly," muttered Sirius, trying to keep his mouth from moving. "Now shut up and let me do this."

"It's not hard. Just say 'yes' whenever the Muggle priest asks you anything."

"Fuck. Off. Now."

The organ crashed into existence, making Sirius jump at the sudden burst of sound. The triumphant chords of the heroic march echoed through the old church, contrasting with the silent, shimmering sunlight. Everyone rose to their feet.

Straightening himself, Sirius kept his eyes trained on the far wooden doors as they slowly opened, revealing the sight within. He took a deep breath, and then nearly choked on it as he finally saw the woman now visible at the end of the aisle.

As the stirring notes of the processional pealed forth, Hermione Granger paused briefly, and then began her long walk down the aisle towards the man she had promised to marry.

Sirius had been waiting for this moment ever since they had first heard about the law.

He'd been fixated on it.

He'd been dreading it.

He was out of time.

This was really happening, and Sirius Black didn't know what to do.

He'd hoped that, when the day came, he'd be able to hide any hint of the rage burning within at what he – at what she – was being forced to do.

But, as he gazed at his bride, watching her slowly advance towards him, Sirius realised that what he felt wasn't anger.

The tightness in his chest was still there, but now he wasn't sure if it was because he felt so trapped or because of how beautiful she looked.

Watching her move through the sunbeams, Sirius found himself suddenly smiling. The pull of his lips in an upward curve felt almost foreign – there had been little cause for joy over the past few weeks – but, then again, how could he not smile at her?

Hermione was an absolute vision.

He'd told her she would be, even though she'd doubted him whenever they'd dared to discuss the ceremony awaiting them. Now, she looked almost other-worldly: serene and bright and heavenly. Those riotous curls of hers were swept back and hidden behind a veil that sparkled in the soft sunlight, and her dress…

Sirius blinked rapidly. He'd vowed she'd wear the hell out of a sackcloth if needs be, but she'd clearly picked something far more stunning for this morning's performance. What he hadn't expected, however, was for her gown to cut such a low-V down her chest.

Her breasts looked amazing.

As far as Sirius was concerned, Hermione could wear that kind of deep cut on all her robes from now on.

But, he reminded himself, he couldn't think things like that. Not after what had happened the other night.

Especially not after what had happened the other night – and the morning after that.

Chasing those dangerous thoughts away, Sirius instead watched as Hermione continued to slowly process to where he and Remus were waiting for her.

Harry and Ginny followed behind the bride, arm in arm, ready to stand up for her just as Remus was doing for him, while Hermione's parents looked on rather stiffly from their front pew. Dr Granger had claimed a bad back kept him from walking his daughter down the aisle. Given how they'd reacted to Hermione's news about what she had promised to do for him, Sirius supposed they could just be glad the Grangers had bothered to attend at all.

They were needed, though. That much had certainly been impressed upon him. All of this – every part of this cringe-inducing show – was necessary. It was all for his benefit, and his only.

No wonder the Grangers looked ready to murder him.

Harry was another story, however. The thought of the Chosen One as a bridesmaid had been amusing at first, but then they had all realised around the same moment that it made perfect sense. Of course, Hermione would need her strongest friends surrounding her today.

But how could his godson look so happy? Sirius briefly flicked his eyes away from the bride to her attendants. How could Harry seem to be enjoying this charade so much, knowing his best friend was moving towards such a gruesome fate, an innocent lamb to the slaughter?

Because, Sirius reminded himself as Hermione finally drew up alongside him, that's what she was: a sacrifice. His willing victim. A martyr in satin and silk, ruining herself so that he didn't have to go back to hell.

How on earth had any of them ever ended up in the middle of this bloody pantomime?

And more to the point, who was this woman now standing beside him?

The Hermione he had known all those years ago – that swotty little chit with delusions of grandeur and no sense of how nasty real life could be – she would never have done this kind of thing for him… would she?

And yet, she'd saved his life before, all those years ago.

And now, here she was again, giving herself away to satisfy the petty cruelties of a sadistic little cabal at the Ministry. Their eyes met, and Sirius instantly recalled every moment of what had passed between them in the last thirty-six hours, when they had found themselves alone together. Twice.

She'd knocked him for six with her secret plan.

Sirius didn't know what to make of her.

His head spun.

"Hi," Hermione whispered, smiling tentatively at him from behind her tulle veil.

"Hi, yourself," he whispered back. Then he took a moment, letting his eyes rake over her from top to bottom. "You look wonderful."

"Wonderful for you!" she laughed softly, leaning in for a moment so that their arms brushed against each other.

Just like the other night, the Hermione Sirius thought he knew melted away and was replaced by some bewitching enchantress. He was ensorcelled; her sweet laughter was a spell that touched off a thousand sensations inside of him. Heat burnt down the length of his spine and low down deep in his stomach. A sharp, sudden arousal seized him, his body seduced by the simple awareness of her, in complete contrast to the riot of thoughts raging through his head.

Blinking quickly, he asked in a low voice, "Are you ready for this?"

"Are you?"

He nodded, words escaping him.

"Me too," said Hermione. One of her hands moved from beneath her cascading bouquet of white flowers to take his.

Her fingers felt surprisingly cold against his skin. Gripping her hand tightly, Sirius tried to bleed a bit of warmth into her. His eyes never left hers.

"Thank you – for this," he whispered, a gruff edge in his voice.

Now it was her turn to stay silent; she bit her lip before nodding quickly. But her fingers squeezed his firmly in return.

Then, as one, the pair turned to face the altar, and the Muggle wedding ceremony began.

Raising her hands in benediction, the Granger's family priest began to intone ancient words that were familiar only to a surprisingly small number of the congregants in the church that morning: "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony…"