Part The Third: In Which Remus Gawks At Photos

Remus found himself distracted again, staring at the photo on his desk. He didn’t remember who had taken the photo of him and Lyria sitting together in the chair, but he was glad they had. Her hair was falling out of whatever arrangement it had been up in, and the two of them were facing each other, seemingly deep in conversation. He would almost believe that they’d been talking when it was taken, except she was holding one of his hands, and his other hand was playing in the fallen curls. Bearing that in mind, he guessed they were just a step away from a kiss that was hardly appropriate for public. He smiled.

They’d been engaged almost six months now, and besides that ring on her finger, very little had changed. The flat looked as it always had, life continued as usual… it almost bothered him, really. He frowned a bit. They hadn’t discussed a date yet, and his usually infinite patience was waning. He wanted her to be his wife…

“Still back here with your Every Flavor Beans?” Lyria asked as she entered the room. Then she noticed the frown. “What’s the matter, wrong flavor?”

“The Beans are long gone, my dear,” he said as she sat across from him. “I was just thinking.”

“I warned you about that.”

“Congratulations, that is officially the worst joke of the day,” he said dryly. “I was thinking about… well, about a wedding. Lyria, I’d like us to set a date.”

“I would too, Remus, you know that. But, um… well… you know how you and my mother don’t get on so well?”

“Yes?”

“She’s going to be your mother in law – and she has… some set ideas about what her only daughter’s wedding should be like.”

He blinked. Uh oh… another tangle with Jessilyn MacLaren. “Well, we can sit down with her once we set a date.”

“How about we elope, tomorrow?”

He laughed softly. “How about we get married, surrounded by family and friends, six months from tomorrow?”

She nodded. “We’ll have to plan fast, but I approve. Besides, with having to plan it quickly, we can have things planned before Mum gets an opportunity to mobilize.”

“You don’t honestly think this is going to be another war, do you?” He asked.

“Oh, Remus, you sweet naïve man. This is going to be the largest war we’ve had with her yet.”

~*~*~*~

A week later, he was starting to agree with Lyria. “Darling, didn’t you always want to get married here at the Manor?” Jessilyn was saying, carefully studying a floral arrangement.

“No, Mother, *you* always wanted me to get married at the Manor,” Lyria said, walking past the particular arrangement her mother was studying in favor of another simpler one. “Stop looking at that hideous thing, Mum, I want people to be able to see each other over the centerpieces at the tables.”

“Now, Lyria sweetie, you’ve never been much of a gardener.”

“Me? You’ve never had dirty hands in your life.”

Jessilyn turned to Remus – it seemed to him more like she whirled on him. “What do you think, isn’t this a lovely arrangement?”

“I think Lyria’s not particularly fond of roses,” he said simply. Lyria smiled at him a bit; Jessilyn did not.

“You’re getting married in July, dears, you need summer flowers.”

“I’d be perfectly happy with wildflowers, and the colors are nicer,” Lyria said. “I don’t want some horrid frilly pink-and-white… thing.”

“Oh, dear, I meant to tell you, I think you two should move it back to the end of July,” Jessilyn told them. “Maybe the twenty-third? Your father’s retirement party is at the start of the month, it wouldn’t do to have them too close.”

“We can’t have it that late in the month, it’s… not a good time for me,” Remus stepped in.

“I think you can change your other plans to marry my daughter,” Jessilyn snapped.

“I’m afraid, ma’am, that in this particular instance, I can’t,” Remus told her patiently. The full moon was the twenty-first and he could do without looking like he’d been beaten in his wedding pictures.

“It’s the moon, Mum,” Lyria said by way of explanation, still surveying one of the tables.

“Well you know my solution to that,” Jessilyn said, lip curled in dislike while she studied Remus.

Remus forced his patented ‘This doesn’t suck too badly’ smile back onto his face. “I don’t believe there’s a problem you couldn’t devise a solution to, ma’am.”

“Speaking of which, we can’t use Grandmother and Grandfather’s rings,” Lyria said, hoping to stop – or rather, redirect – a fight.

Jessilyn sighed. “Lyria, you know those rings aren’t silver, and you’ve always wanted them, your grandmother was so special to you.”

“We *have* rings. If you want to give them to us as a wedding present you go right ahead, but we’ll have our own.”

“Very well, dear.” Jessilyn gave her a look of hurt. “Now, I’ve saved you the trouble of planning the menu…”

“MOTHER!”

Remus forced himself not to groan. It was going to be a very long six months.

~*~*~*~

Remus was quite certain the door had broken. “Lyria, what happened?” He asked, getting to his feet.

Lyria snarled, slamming the door closed behind her. “She tried to plan our wedding party. She also took the liberty of getting me a dress, because naturally, she has psychic capabilities and knows I’d like to look like a piece of bloody pastry at the wedding!” Lyria bellowed. “I’m not wearing that damn dress! I’m not EVER going back to that house, and I’m not inviting her to my wedding!”

“Well… it’s not too late to elope?” He offered, pulling her into a hug. “Do you need a brandy again?”

“If I’m not alcoholic by the time we’re married, it’ll be small miracle,” she muttered, head against his shoulder.

He laughed softly and sat down on the sofa, guiding her to sit in his lap. “Listen to me. I love you, and whatever *you* want in all this, I support, alright? Don’t let her get to you.”

Lyria snuggled against him. “I’m not going back there today.”

“Of course you are, you’ve only been gone an hour. We’ll go together.”

“You can’t. It’s dress day, it’s bad luck,” she said automatically.

“I think we should take our chances. It must be worse luck to kill one’s future mother-in-law.” He set her on her feet. “Come on.”

~*~*~*~

“Lyria, *there* you are, dear! I was thinking, if you’d rather, I still have my dress, and it’d be just perfect for you, instead of the –“ Jessilyn stopped at the sight of Remus. “Lyria, darling, what’s wrong? He can’t see the dress, dearie.”

“You know, I always liked the skirt of your dress,” Lyria mused. “The train and all, just cathedral length, nothing ridiculous, and not something fluffy enough to conceal a nation of pigmys. But the bodice of that dress you bought was nice, I liked that it was strapless, yours is too frilly.”

“Lyria, ducky – Remus, do you know what she’s on about?” Jessilyn asked, looking concerned.

“Certainly. Lyria’s going to wear *her* wedding dress.” He smiled pleasantly. Between the two of them, they could do this. They’d handle it all peaceably yet. “Lyria, why don’t you go get tea – I think you could use one.” He watched as she left the room, then turned to Jessilyn.

“Don’t you dare give my daughter orders, you filthy halfbreed,” she snapped.

That was it. Bloody hell, he was seeing red. Nevermind the new resolve to sort all this out calmly… “THEN STOP TRYING TO PLAN HER WEDDING OUT FROM UNDER HER! Offer her help, give her your opinions, but stop trying to guilt and cajole and force her into doing everything your way! I was under the impression I was marrying her, not you, and I’m QUITE certain she has the mental capacity to plan her own wedding!” He bellowed. The look of shock and horror on her face made him stop to compose himself. “I know she’s your only daughter, and you’ve looked forward to this for a very long time,” he said, finding it much easier to be calm now that she stood there in terrified silence. “And I’m hardly what you had pictured waiting for her at the end of the aisle, but I love Lyria, and I’m not going to stand about and let you drive her mad preparing for this. If she comes home furious again, and it’s your doing, I swear to you, we will run off and get married in Spain, is that clear?”

Jessilyn simply nodded, still looking taken aback.

He sighed. “Well, let’s see to Lyria, then.”

From behind the door, Lyria chuckled a bit, marveling at how much it took to make Remus truly lose his temper. Not surprising, really, that it was her mother that first managed it within her hearing. She handed him a cup of hot chocolate as he entered the kitchen, smiling. Something told her the wedding planning might become a bit easier. “So, I think maybe this afternoon, dress shopping for me. Blue for bridesmaids –“

“Oh, but Lyria, I saw the loveliest pink –“ Jessilyn stopped, looking at Remus. “Perhaps we’ll be able to find it in blue.”

Lyria stifled a laugh. “Perhaps we can. To be sure, we’ll look.” She smiled at Remus – a real, happy smile. Yes, things would be much better. If she’d known that would solve it, she’d have gotten him to scream at her mother ages ago. He, however, was starting to look troubled. “Mum, could you go get your old dress, I just want to see if the skirt is as I remember it; I think it’d be lovely.”

“Of course, dearie.” The approving tone had returned, and Jessilyn went to get her dress.

Lyria turned to Remus. “What’s wrong?”

“Why the *hell* did I do that?” He mumbled. Lyria frowned; she’d never heard him curse aloud. “I don’t particularly need more people to be utterly terrified of me.”

“Oh, Remus.” She kissed his cheek lightly. “You lost your temper, that’s all. I do it daily and Mum hasn’t gone away yet.”

“That’s not all, and you know it. It reminds her – and –“ He sighed heavily. “Lyria, this isn’t how I want to start our life together.”

“Listen, I don’t care if you scream at her until she soils herself and she spends the rest of her life terrified you’ll appear at the house on the next full moon,” Lyria said firmly. “That’s *not* you. You’re the kindest, most patient man I’ve ever known, do you understand me?”

“Why does she always manage to infuriate me?” He sighed again.

“Look out, she’s me in twenty years,” Lyria joked lightly, kissing him. “She has a gift, Remus. And it’s not wrong for you to have an emotional response to someone on occasion.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be your job? To elicit an emotional response from me?” He asked mildly, sipping at his chocolate.

She snickered. “I prefer a different emotional response, one I can guarantee you don’t want her to have anything to do with.”

Remus nearly choked.

~*~*~*~

He sighed as he entered the house alone for only the second time. It was Angus who wanted to see him this time – and that was a scarier thing. Jessilyn was afraid of him still, but Remus was quite certain it would take more than a screaming fit to frighten Angus. Nervously, he realized he hadn’t spoken to Angus since he’d asked to Lyria to marry him. And he’d never exactly discussed that idea with her father… “You wanted to see me, sir?”

Angus nodded. “Come in, laddie, have a seat.”

Laddie? “I should have spoken to you before I proposed to her, sir…”

“Bah. Lyri does as she pleases. She may be my daughter, but she’s hardly mine to give to any man. If she’ll have you, you have my blessing – and good luck.”

He smiled a bit at that. Yes, he might just need that luck. She had that temper… but oh, a bit of temper was worth it. “I’m not quite sure what you wanted to speak with me for, sir.”

“I need a reason to speak to my soon-to-be son-in-law?” He asked mildly. “Angus’ll do. I don’t plan to kill you – provided, of course, you don’t hurt my daughter. I’d say your record speaks in your favor so far.” He sighed. “But yes, there’s something I wanted to speak to you about. Are you and Lyria planning to stay at the flat?”

“We haven’t discussed it, to be honest.”

Angus nodded. “I’d like to offer you two a little house. Not the Manor, obviously – Jess’ll never leave it and I wouldn’t force Lyria to mind the behemoth.” Remus blinked, not sure what to make of this. “Lyria adored the place when she was a little girl, and I’ve always wanted her to have it. I thought it’d be better as a wedding present than an inheritance.”

“That’s… extraordinarily kind of you…”

“It’s just a little place, out of the way. I imagine the basement would serve to restrain you, and it’s on a lovely chunk of property. Good place for children.”

Remus paled. Children. Oh God, pregnant Lyria on a hormonal rampage. Not good. Why did Angus have to have gotten that far ahead of him in thinking? But it did have a bit of appeal – a curly-haired little girl playing in the front yard, or teaching a little boy to fly a broomstick. He smiled. “It sounds splendid.”

“Good. I’ve had an idea…”

~*~*~*~

Remus smiled cheerily as he entered the flat. “Good afternoon.” He kissed her cheek.

“I made biscuits,” Lyria said by way of greeting.

“Biscuits?”

“Mm. Chocolate chip.”

“Then it is indeed a good afternoon.” He wrapped his arms around her gently from behind.

“Made it back from Dad’s intact, I see,” Lyria commented, leaning back against him.

“Mm,” he replied noncommittally.

“Still capable of siring children, if we choose?” She heckled.

“That’s the second time today someone’s mentioned children,” he noted. “Is everyone really that eager for the two of us to procreate?”

“Not me, thank you very much. I like the sex fine without the childbirth.”

He grinned, blushing a bit. “Well I’m not having them, dear.”

She laughed. “Remus Lupin, are you blushing?! We’ve lived together over a year now and yet I mention one of our favorite hobbies and you turn pink. You prude.”

“There was a compliment hidden in there. Besides, it’s one of *your* favorite hobbies. Who’s to say it’s one of mine? I was just taught that I ought to oblige a lady,” he teased.

“Ooh, I could slap you. Yes, Remus my dear, I think you’re good in bed. As for it being just my hobby, I do so terribly hate to assume, but given how often you initiate it…”

He laughed softly, squeezing her gently.

“What did Dad want?”

“That, Lyria dumpling, is none of your business.”

“Oh it’s not, is it?” She raised an eyebrow. “That’s also the first time you’ve ever called me that… by the way, don’t, you’re starting to sound like my mother.”

“No pet names? Lyria, I’m hurt,” he teased mildly.

“If you start calling me ducky or something, I’ll call you Wolfie, do you understand?”

“You wouldn’t!” He nearly yelped. She’d certainly better not…“Nothing more than Lyri, then, will that do?”

“Only from you.” She kissed him. “Perhaps we should spend some time practicing my favorite hobby? We’ve a wedding night to prepare for,” she teased.

“At this time of day? It’s not even dinner time yet. Lyria Catherine MacLaren, I’m shocked at you. Let’s go.”

She laughed.

~*~*~*~

“Sit, ducky, and let me do your hair. Please?” Jessilyn asked her daughter. They were in the tea room, Lyria in her dress already and the mess of curls falling behind her as she sat. They had compromised a bit on location – they weren’t getting married in the Manor, as Jessilyn had wanted, but in the gardens. She squirmed a bit. It was entirely too hot for dressing up, and she’d never been so dressed up in her life.

“Up, I think. It’ll keep it off your neck, and the humidity won’t ruin it so fast… it’s a bit warm, but it’s beautiful out, bright and sunny and the flowers are perfect…” There was a slight tremble in the older woman’s voice, and when Lyria looked in the mirror, she could see that her mother was crying.

“Oh, Mum,” she sighed. “It’s alright, don’t cry.”

“I’m just worried for you… you’re my baby girl, and we’re turning you over to someone else today.”

“Mum, Remus is a good man.”

“Bah, Remus, I’ll never like him and you know it, but that’s not why I’m crying. You aren’t my little one anymore, that’s all. I know, I know, you haven’t been for a long time,” she continued before Lyria could interrupt. “But you’ve still always come home on holidays, you know, and when you needed things you always came right here first… and now you’ll have your own family for holidays, and you go to him.”

“Well, be nice to him and we’ll both come for holidays,” Lyria said, squeezing her mother’s hand.

“I suppose. You two and maybe a grandbaby or two…” She slipped pins into Lyria’s hair.

“Why does everyone keep bringing that up?”

“Babies go with weddings, dearie, it’s a fact,” Jessilyn said absently. “Besides, an old lady can dream. And someone will have to run your baby showers. Just promise me you’ll have a girl.”

“It’s my understanding you’ll have to talk to him about that.”

Jessilyn laughed a bit. “True enough, dear. Now I trust I don’t have to give you the speech about what happens on your wedding night?”

Lyria turned a violent shade of purple. “No, that won’t be necessary, thank you.”

“Hrmph.” Jessilyn sniffed disapprovingly, but quickly brushed it off and set Lyria’s veil in place over her hair. “There, now you’re adorned.” She looked at the two of them in the mirror. “Good heavens, I’m going to fix my makeup. I’ll come back and get you when it’s time, you just sit still and don’t make a mess of yourself.” The older woman charged out of the room.

Lyria laughed a bit and got to her feet, stepping out onto the balcony. The tree should hide her from the view of everyone else, but she’d still be able to look down and see what was going on… It looked like most of the guests had arrived already, she mused. And her mother had been right – it was gorgeous outside. She smiled. Just about a perfect day to get married, if a bit sticky.

She could hear soft male laughter from fairly close, and she looked up. It seemed Remus had been cooped up in the room next door to her own temporary prison, for he too had stepped out onto that balcony and was looking over at her. Bad luck, her brain said instantly, but she didn’t much care. She smiled and waved at him, and he returned the wave.

She looked perfect in a wedding dress, he noted from his spot on the nearby balcony. Her hair was up, and while he couldn’t see her face terribly well between the distance and the veil, he knew she was smiling at him. It made him laugh a bit; in some ways they were so completely different, but they’d both wanted a minute to themselves and that had led them out to watch everyone else bustle around. The minute wouldn’t last long, though, and he thought it best to end it himself by stepping back into the house from the balcony before his mother in law (could he call her that yet?) discovered them gawking at each other. Something told him that Jessilyn would not approve.

His mother-in-law. Which in turn made Lyria his wife. He wondered if the stupid smile would get off his face.

~*~*~*~

She smiled up at him as he lifted the veil off her face.

He smiled back. “Are you holding up alright in there?”

“Would you just kiss me and keep in mind we have an audience?”

He laughed softly and obliged. “You look perfect, Mrs. Lupin.”

“Just keep my first name out of there, because it completely ruins it,” she instructed, squeezing his hand gently as they made their way away from the crowd’s eyes and back into the house. “We’ve got a while until the reception.”

He nodded and led her away, into a side room near the stairwell. “Now according to snotty old pureblood tradition, we should be making use of this hour to consummate the marriage, but I’m not sure I’d be able to get you out of that dress and back into it with that little time, so I suggest eating strawberries and kissing a lot instead.” He smiled at her. “You look like an angel, but you can’t be comfortable.”

“No, we can’t have much fun with that kind of time. You haven’t seen the shoes,” she told him. “I’m thinking it would take you an hour to figure out those.” She lifted the skirt of the dress to show off heels that somehow laced complicatedly about her ankles.

“No, decidedly not comfortable,” he agreed. “Do you think you’ll make it through the afternoon?”

“You may have to hold me up.”

“I suppose that could be arranged.” He pulled her to him gently. “Have I told you that I love you yet today?”

“Not me, no. You told a few hundred other people that you love me instead.”

“That won’t do.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she echoed, her head on his shoulder.

~*~*~*~

“Where are we going, and why does it require that I be blindfolded?” Lyria demanded, letting him help her up the stairs.

“It was your father’s idea.”

“It was my father’s idea that I be blindfolded on my wedding night? Now, that I don’t believe. I’ve married a kinky bastard.”

“Lyria Lupin, you’re lucky it’s dark… If you don’t stop making sexual comments, I shall leave you here on the stairs to fend for yourself.”

“Are you blushing again?!”

He sighed and took the blindfold off her, pushing open the door. “I was trying for a nice romantic surprise until you ruined the mood.”

“I’m a lust-ridden wench. And my desire to jump you hardly ruins the wedding-night mood,” she told him absently, looking around. “Remus, why are we here?”

“You know where we are, then?”

“Of course I do, we used to come here when I was little… I loved it here,” she said, smiling a bit to herself. “It’s the summer home.”

“No, it’s our home. Year round.” He smiled as she turned around to face him wide-eyed. “Thank your father the next time we see him. This was his wedding present to us.”

“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME! How long have you known?!”

He winced. That decidedly ruined the mood… he’d be in trouble later. Perhaps, since it was their wedding night, she would wait until tomorrow to start being angry with him. “Why don’t we get you upstairs so you can take those horrid shoes off? Besides, the neighbors are a good distance away, but you’re making a scene.”

“Don’t you try to distract me when I’m busy being mad at you – PUT ME DOWN!”

He only complied after he’d shut the front door behind them.

~*~*~*~

There was a new photograph on his desk now, one from which the wedding-day Lyria smiled out at him. Of course, she wouldn’t fit in that wedding dress at the moment, not that he was complaining. It had been a year today since that photo was taken, and a very pregnant Lyria was upstairs resting – or she was supposed to be, anyway. Lyria still did essentially whatever she pleased, and it took teasing, cajoling, and sometimes even pleading to make her listen to the healers. Even still, it was exciting to think about, that they would be parents within two weeks.

Two weeks. It was a ridiculously short amount of time.

“Stop hiding your chocolate stashes back here, I always find them anyway,” Lyria told him from the doorway.

“Anything chocolate that may or may not have been hidden back here is long gone,” he replied. “What are you doing up and about? Aren’t your feet still hurting?”

She shrugged. “Swelling a lot less than they were this morning. I can walk on them now.”

“That doesn’t mean you should,” he told her mildly. “At least sit down.”

She scowled, but she did so, carefully lowering herself into a chair. “Shit, I don’t think I’m getting up again.” She rested her feet on the footstool.

Smiling a bit, he went and sat on the floor by the stool so he could gently rub her feet. “It’ll be over soon.”

“You’re not allowed to get up either.” She closed her eyes. “Your son’s abusing me from within again.”

“What makes you so sure it’s not your daughter?” He countered, still rubbing her feet.

“It’s quite simple. My daughter and I will band together to counter you and your son.”

He laughed softly. “Never fear, the Lupin men are getting quite used to being bossed about by the MacLaren women.”

“This baby girl is going to have you wrapped around a tiny finger in about a half hour’s time, isn’t she?”

“Most likely.”

Lyria smiled. “Baby Emma and baby Jacob… It’s a nice thought, isn’t it? That someone’s going to be living in that nursery we spent nearly a week finishing?”

“Two someones. And it only took a week because you decided to change the theme halfway through.” He grinned a bit. “But the clouds are nice.”

“Damn right the clouds are nice,” she replied. “But you should have let me do stars and moons.”

“Let’s keep all things moon-related out of the nursery, shall we?” He requested. “Especially as we don’t know what’s going to happen with the twins yet.”

“Yes, of course. We mustn’t mention that they might be werewolves, despite the fact that I couldn’t care less if they had tails permanently so long as they’re healthy.”

“I know.” He stopped rubbing her feet after a moment. “You should be upstairs resting, you know.”

“Remus. I’m pregnant, not bloody hibernating. Furthermore, it is our first anniversary, and I want cake.”

“That makes quite a nice excuse, doesn’t it?”

“Well, we can’t have wine, and I didn’t think it would be nice to waddle down here and simply proposition you.”

He stifled a laugh. “If you rest for now, tonight I’ll take you out to dinner, and you can have all the cake you’d like so long as you eat your vegetables first.”

“Yes, *Dad.* You’ve been obnoxious since I started showing.”

“Please.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, and he helped her make her way up the stairs.

~*~*~*~

Two weeks to the day later, Remus was carrying his daughter into the waiting nursery. “Look at that, you’ve got a nice crib waiting for you, Emma, and some stuffed animals and a changing table…”

Lyria rolled her eyes as she lifted Jacob. “Look at that, Jake, your little sister made your father go crazy.” Her son cooed, looking at her with his father’s eyes. She smiled. “You’re awfully sweet, you know that?” She turned toward Remus, who was now sitting in the glider with Emma in his arms. “Your dad’s awfully sweet, too, even if he is a bit mental.”

“You’re just jealous because I’m holding the good baby,” Remus said, rocking his daughter gently. The child was sleeping peacefully already, and he almost reluctantly settled her in her crib.

Lyria did the same with her slumbering brother. “Come on. I imagine the little Lupin twins will have us awake in a few hours.”

And they both smiled at the thought.

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