If he stops to think, he will realize how absurd it all is, how utterly wrong. So, he doesn't stop to think. It is probably the most selfish thing he has ever done. (But not entirely selfish, surely, not when the light has finally returned to her eyes, a light he hadn't seen since ... well, for a very long time.) As they make love, the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows of her flat, Remus knows the truth of what he has told her, that he has finally found his reason to fight this war.

Later that evening, when Molly notices the (oh, so small) ring on Dora's left hand, the Order meeting turns into an impromptu celebration of life and love. He sips at the glass of firewhiskey shoved into his hands by one of the twins, and graciously accepts the shy hugs given by Hermione and Ginny. He is surprised and deeply moved by the joyful reaction of their friends. And if he suspects that their jubilation is a bit more than called for by a simple betrothal, well, they all need something to celebrate as they face the dark days ahead.

He's still basking in the warm glow of the firewhiskey, admiring his blushing fiancée as she accepts an awkward kiss on the cheek from Mad-Eye Moody, when Arthur and Kingsley ask to have a word with him in a corner of the living room.

"We didn't want to spoil the celebration, Remus. It's wonderful news, really. I've never seen Tonks so happy. But ..."

Arthur can't quite look him in the eyes and he feels his heart sink. Of course. What was I thinking?

Kingsley steps in to rescue poor Arthur, who has never been one to relish the speaking of hard truths. "You've heard about the new legislation Dolores Umbridge has introduced to the Wizangamot."

It's a direction he hadn't expected the conversation to take, and he listens as they outline the the new regulations about to be passed by the Ministry. Regulations that appear to be intended to drive the most vulnerable members of their society into Voldemort's waiting arms. Regulations that will make it a crime for a so-called Dark Creature such as himself to enter into any legally binding contract with a witch or wizard.

The implication hangs in the air.

"Bloody hell." He barely restrains himself from throwing Molly's good crystal into the wall, surprised at his own anger. It is the latest in a lifetime of indignities, and he has finally had enough.

"Remus?" At some point Dora has joined them, and she touches his arm uncertainly. She thinks I'll use this as an excuse to push her away again. He takes her hand in his and gives it a small squeeze, hating himself anew for the shadow he has put in her once-bright eyes.

"There's going to be a special session on Monday next to consider this and other restrictions on non-Human magical beings." Kingsley's raised eyebrow is a challenge, and the Gryffindor inside of him stirs. Fuck Dolores Umbridge and her bloody laws.

"All right, then, we'll get married this weekend, before the law can go into effect." He turns to Dora and takes both of her hands in his. "That is, if you're still willing."

She throws her arms around his neck and he gathers her close, allowing his anger to drain away. "It'll be your job," he reminds her gently. He knows her answer like he knows his own heart, but he needs it to be out in the open, this first of the many sacrifices she will make for him.

"Probably. The way things are going at the Ministry I doubt I'll have a job there much longer, anyway. At least this way I won't get thrown in the quod for hexing dear Pius." She pulls back to look him in the eye. "Our most important job this summer is protecting Harry. Besides, you're not getting off that easy, Lupin."

And so he finds himself standing outside the office of the Registrar of Wizards on a rainy Saturday in Edinburgh, wearing Bill's borrowed dress robes. The calm determination he felt at the Burrow has fled, replaced by nervousness the likes of which he hasn't felt since his seventh year NEWTS.

"All right there, Remus?" Arthur gives him a knowing grin and a clap on the back worthy of Padfoot or Prongs. He musters the most confident smile he can in return, which only makes the older man laugh. A flash of white and pink from across the street catches his eye, and he turns to watch Dora and Molly dash across the street, Molly holding her wand aloft to repel the rain.

"Wotcher." Dora grins up at him. She is wearing a simple white summer dress, her face framed in pink curls, and he has never seen anything more beautiful.

"Hello, yourself. Fancy a wedding?"

"I'm game if you are."

"I'm sorry we couldn't bring your parents." It is his one regret at the impromptu ceremony.

"It's all right. If anyone should understand about eloping, it's Mum and Dad." She can't quite hide the disappointment in her voice, but her smile never falters and he loves her all the more for it.

The ceremony itself passes in a blur. He is vaguely aware of a few uncomfortable questions about his status as a werewolf, and Dora's entering into the union of her own free will. He has to swallow past the lump in his throat to recite his vows, then watches with something akin to awe as the light from the Magistrate's wand twines around his and Dora's enjoined hands, sealing their fates together.

"I now pronounce you bonded for life."

They spend the night in a Wizarding hotel a few blocks from the Registrar, courtesy of Arthur and Molly. He carries her over the threshold and makes love to her in the four-poster bed, unashamed of his tears. That night he watches her sleep. Lily and James were right, he realizes now, to grab on to whatever happiness they could find, however brief. He will always believe that she deserves better than he, but he cannot deny that today she was truly happy, as she hasn't been since Sirius died. It both awes and humbles him that he could be the source of that happiness.

A pink curl has slipped across her face, and he can't help but trace her cheek as he tucks it gently behind her ear.

"Remus? What's wrong?" She blinks at him sleepily.

"I"m sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." He smiles reassuringly. "Just ... I can't believe you're here. That we're really ..." For once in his life, words escape him.

"No second thoughts?" She reaches up to cup his face with her hand, and he catches the glint of the ring on her finger. He laughs, both from the sheer joy bubbling through his chest, and the absurdity of the question given their current circumstances.

"A little late for that, isn't it?" He takes her hand from his face and kisses each finger. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

And for tonight, at least, it is true.