Forever and a Day

Blinding Light and the Sound of the Ocean

They get married in late spring, but it's the honeymoon that really means everything to Tonks. This wedding is just for show, she thinks, to appease Molly and her mother and everyone else who seems to think that this is just an extension of their favourite Mills and Boon or Muggle soap opera: they are not Remus and Tonks, they are a dress clad, non-stumbling, non-swearing, non-appearance changing woman and her smartly dressed, clean-shaven husband.

"Do you, Nymphadora, take Remus John Lupin to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
She bites back a don't call me Nymphadora – it's her wedding day and her mouth will have a much better use than for arguing with her appalled mother – and mumbles, "I do."

It's official, and scary, and wholeheartedly liberating, but mostly, it's official. Tonks has always believed that she doesn't need a man to complete her, and here she is, bound to Remus until death do them part. The first part doesn't bother her; the death part, she's not so keen on.

"Congratulations, Tonks." Fred and George – she can never tell the difference - bestow a bundle of flowers upon her, red roses with drooping petals that remind her of unshed tears, thick and bright like blood.

"Thanks."

She buried then by a swarm of guests, Remus' parents shake her hand and kiss her cheeks and comment on her long brown tresses; they're as dull as murky river water and as heavy on her back as if they were waterlogged. She bites her lip again, tries not to cry out in pain and refrains from asking so your eyesight is good enough to make out my hair then?

She loves Remus' mum and dad, they're the doting grandparents she never had – she shudders at that thought, because incest is just plain wrong, no matter what her mother's family believed in the sick twisted caves they called their minds, and she does not want to be Remus' daughter at all.

Come to think of it, she loves everyone at this wedding, her family, her friends, the Order – even if Moody's completely creeping out Becky, her Muggle friend she met at the grocery store after an emergency tampon buying session in Muggle London, by wiggling his magic eye and muttering "constant vigilance" at the sight of Bill and Fleur sneaking kisses behind the big oak tree in garden.

Tonks loves everyone at this wedding, but she loves Remus, her husband, the most – even if she's still getting used to the weight of the ring on her finger as she shakes hands and waves off compliments about how stunning she looks in a dress. And yet, here she is, on this perfect spring day, wiping away blushes caused by the aforementioned compliments and making sure everyone has enough punch; where is Molly, anyway?

She grabs Remus' hand about five minutes after the cake is cut, and asks him to leave through a mouthful of chocolate and pistachio nuts, words flying from her mouth like frantic curses.

"Fine," he responds, "just let Kingsley make his speech."

"Okay."

They nestle together under the shade of the oak tree for a few minutes – Bill and Fleur have long since disappeared into the house amidst a spell of unbuttoned clothing, and she laughs at the antics of the soon to be married couple, because she and Remus were like this a few weeks ago. Remus places chaste kisses on her cheeks and throat, and his lips feel like sandpaper as they scrape against her skin. She falls against him and they fall against the tree in turn, a tangled mess of limbs and emotions and fragile hearts charged with the pure energy of love.

"Thank you," Remus says simply, "thank you."

"For what?"
"For everything."

Tonks knows exactly what he's talking about – this war has cut him up more than anything, and he will always wear the scars, both physical and emotional (though she finds them sexy, and nothing gives her greater pleasure than tracing the knotted, bulging ropes that run down his back from some curse or other during the night) – but she can't leave him without an admission of her own.

"Thank you, too."

"For what?" he echoes, and they both laugh, neither of them daring to glance at their watches, because this moment is perfect, and Kingsley's slurred, drunken speech about love and happiness in a time of war and whether or not Moody really hit on his protégée will only reinforce everything that sitting here is already telling them: they love each other.

"For teaching me that there's more to life than mindless drinking and a fridge full of week old Chinese takeout delivered by your boyfriend when he forgot to purchase those theatre tickets you wanted so much."

"Point taken – so it's got nothing to do with the fact that you love me then?"

"Of course not… that's a mere technicality."

Remus and Tonks both laugh harder than necessary; it's either marriage bringing out the sense of humour in them or the sense of humour that brought them together in the first place arising again in the face of marriage. Everything seems funnier now, feels fresher, and lasts longer.

Tonks turns around, listening for the feint tones of Kingsley's speech – she's seen his drafts laying around Grimmauld Place, his neat block printing hidden beneath layer upon layer of scribbles as he sought for the right word to describe something that didn't really need an explanation at all. She opens her mouth to ask Remus what he thinks of the line "more mischief than Fred and George," but her question is cut short by a sharp pain as a leaf smacks her in the ear.

Soon the air is a flurry of leaves and grass and mud and laughter and everything rustles in the wind as they collapse a million times over – she doubles over with laughter, wondering if Remus understands the Heimlich Manouevre because she'd love the kiss of life right now.

After what – ten minutes? Fifteen minutes? A hour? Maybe two? – they emerge from the back of the garden, with disheveled hair and clothing and the whistles of not only the Weasley Twins but Becky and Hestia in their ears. Everything rushes by after that in whirlwind of speeches and more laughter and champagne that bubbles like a hot spring, and then, they're free.

And that's where the fun begins.

It's not a typical honeymoon – stupid bloody Voldemort and his Death Eaters determined that long before Remus even worked up the courage to pop the question – but they have fun anyway.

Remus and Tonks wake every morning to blinding light and the sound of the ocean and Muggles going about their everyday lives like people who've never heard of war – which, Tonks reflects, they haven't. It shines in their eyes and on their sleep-deprived faces – after all, they are a newly married couple, so what do people expect, people with the sexual prowess of Dumbledore? - and it dances along the windowpane as they cook their breakfast the Muggle way and devour it with steaming mugs of coffee and kisses that aren't hurried in case someone comes around the corner.

They spend the days wandering the streets of Dorset like tourists, and wondering if they'll ever get this sort of normalcy in London, where the streets are crowded and Diagon Alley is boarded up and there's always people needing guarding, helping, killing. Here, the sun is shining and it's a beautiful day and Tonks feels like a goddess, like Aphrodite or Venus – and no, she does not care that they are one and the same – as Remus kisses longer than is necessary behind dingy pubs selling stale beer and the local convenience story as they juggle Muggle money and try to figure out how many pound coins they need to buy a carton of milk for their hourly caffeine fix.

They sit in the park for hours and talk, talk the way they can't at home because Molly hates Tonks for obvious reasons, while Moody's not the biggest fan of Remus – basically, he thinks that Remus should dedicate more time to the Order and less to his own personal pleasure. She laughs at the memory of Remus replying to that with a chaste wink and saying "well least I have a girlfriend, you bloody old codger," in a way that only Sirius had ever perfected.

"So, have you ever had another girlfriend?" Tonks asks curiously one afternoon during a picnic in the park, taking another ham and tomato sauce sandwich from the basket and popping it hurriedly into her mouth. The sauce leaks all over her favourite Weird Sisters T-Shirt (thankfully the picture doesn't move because she doesn't feel like explaining to unsuspecting Muggles who know nothing of magic beyond card tricks), and quickly scoops it into her mouth with a deft finger.

"Who says we don't know about fine cuisine?" Remus asks, and then flinches as Tonks tickles him gently and demands that he answer the question.

"I dated Lily Evans in my third year," he says finally, leaning back against the tree, its coarse bark scraping his back through the thin cotton of his shirt.

"You dated Lily Evans? And you still have your ahem?"

"I'm sure a nice young girl such as yourself can use the correct anatomical term, but yes to both."

Remus plays idly with a flower rooted into the ground beside him; the whole park is in bloom, and it's awash with colour as plants of every colour and description grow side by side, just like he wishes the world could be sometimes. Tonks watches him, trying to wrestle with words such as husband and lover that don't want to reconcile in her mind, even after a week of sweet love making and just being themselves. She loves him, and yet – and yet, right now they don't feel like husband and wife, they feel like Remus and Tonks, and she thinks it's impossible for her heart to get any fuller than this.

She's pleased that their marriage is legal, that any kids – oh Merlin, is she thinking of that already ­– they have will share their last name with both their parents, but she's also realizing that they while they never needed this marriage, they definitely needed this honeymoon.

"Really?" Tonks is utterly gobsmacked.

"In my third year," Remus elaborates, still running the flower between his fingers as he talks. "It was never anything serious, because Lily had the biggest crush on Snape and James teased us mercilessly."

"Snape?" Eloquence is a thing of the past, something that flew by the window a few years back as she splutters one-word questions that might be rhetorical and are certainly pointless. Remus nods again, looking more solemn than Tonks has seen him in a while, as though this whole business with Sir Greasy is something important to their fate.

"They were best friends for years," he says. "James hated it from day one, mostly because Lily shunned him on the Hogwarts Express for Severus. He loved her forever – I don't think she knew that, and neither did James, because he was too arrogant to believe that anyone but he was worthy of Lily."

"I can't believe… Snape, the bastard, having an actual crush. Shit, it almost makes him seem human."

"Yeah."

They lapse into silence after that, each of them mulling over the difference between what Snape got and what they're still living, every day now. It's comfortable between them – after so many nights of falling asleep to the simple sounds of each other breathing, a lack of speech doesn't kill them, it only makes them stronger.

After what seems like forever, mainly because her own thoughts are screwed by what she's just learnt about Snape and she's hungry and Remus has polished off the last of the pasta salad and the cupcakes too, Tonks hears music drifting towards her ears. It's not The Weird Sisters, or anyone else remotely like her favourite feminist rock bands, but she can't resist entwining Remus' hands in hers and dragging him to his feet.

The music is coming from a Muggle instrumental band, practicing by the lake – Tonks laughs at the indignant ducks who cannot even be lured back by stale bread and the even tastier promise of young childrens' fingers – and she begins to spin Remus around and around, resting her head on his shoulder, until they're both spinning under the shimmering spring sun with their minds and their hopes and their dreams in the clouds and their feet in the fresh green grass below.

As promised, I'm doing a lot of writing, because I finally have the time and the inspiration. ;) Anyway, this was written for the Seasons Challenge at Mt Olympia (the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum), which I highly recommend for anyone suffering writer's block or just looking for a challenge in general. The challenges are brilliant and, more importantly, the people are awesome. This challenge involved writing a chapter for each season using the prompts (below), so there shall be three more parts. I know this is a bit rambly and weird, but that's exactly how Tonks sounds in my head, so hopefully it works for you, and whether it does or doesn't, please leave a review.

Spring Prompts: bloom, flower(s), sounds, rustle, light, green