Disclaimer: I own nothing: The characters belong to JK Rowling. I love her for inventing them.

I woke up early, in the grey of the morning, just before dawn. He's still asleep, and I watch him for a while. He looks so peaceful, finally his age, not older, not burdened with sorrows. I snuggle a little closer, needing to feel him beside me, to be assured that he's really here with me, in my bed, mine. He places an arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer in his sleep, and I have to smile to myself. I'm so happy. It's still new, this feeling, but it's wonderful. Ever since we finally came out with the truth about our feelings, ever since he gave himself to me, I'm on cloud number nine. And I want to give this happiness back to him. I want to make him forget his sorrows, even that he's a werewolf. If I could, I would snatch away Dumbledore's put-outer and put out the moon. Even if it means I have to spend the rest of my nights in darkness. As long as he's smiling, there's still a light to guide us all through. And God knows we need something like that, what with the war and everything. We're putting our lives in danger every single day, and before, it has never really mattered much. I just wasn't happy enough to hang on to life. Now that I've got this, I'm not likely to give it up. Voldemort and his minions can just wait a little longer for me.

I carefully place her down on the bed and take off her shoes, socks and robe. The rest can wait until tomorrow. She looks so peaceful lying there in the thick yellow Weasley jumper that clashes horribly with her pink hair. It's Christmas Eve (closing in on Christmas morning) and we've just returned home from a huge party at the burrow. Ever since Voldemort's defeat, we do all big festivities there. Sure, there'd be more space around here at Grimmauld Place, but it's not the most comfortable of houses. Though Nymphadora and I am working on it. Until then, we'll just have to put warming charms on the Weasleys' veranda, so that we can set up the table outside, and the kids can build igloos and enlighten them with little fairies. By "the kids", I mean the children of several new-founded Weasley families, like George's, Bill's and Charlie's, and (soon) Ron and Hermione's baby, which is due January 5th, and Nymph and Ginny. It was so funny seeing those two roll around in the snow with the children. After that, we sort of all got into a huge snowball fight – even I, at my old age. (Nymph forbid me to say that phrase out loud, so I hope she doesn't wake up right now.) I think the funniest moment of the evening was when Draco Malfoy got hit by a snowball square in the face. I think Ginny made up for that afterwards, though.

You should think I drank enough wine and punch to be dead tired right now, but I'm not. I'm wide awake, so I light up a fire in the fireplace, sink down into my favourite armchair, and just watch her sleep. She's breathing deeply, her cheeks still rosy from the snow, the wine and the laughter. Especially the laughter. It has finally returned, and her laughter is the loudest. Thinking back, I think that was the thing that made me fall in love with her first – her laughter. It was rare enough to hear someone laugh in these terrible days of the war, and I knew, the moment her laughter would stop, everything would be lost. So I did everything to prevent that from happening. And I still do. I want to make her the happiest woman in the world. I want to give her everything she wants. Just to make sure that laughter will still be heard for a long time. The time to mourn and fear is over. We've made it through the war, we can just make it a little bit longer now.

I rush into the hospital, nearly smashing into an old mediwizard as I slide to a halt in front of the reception table. After a bit of stuttering (and, maybe, shouting) on my part, the receptionist finally guides me to her room, and I storm in, relieved to find her alive and sitting up. She looks rather pale, and her head is bandaged, but apart from that, she seems okay. I rush over to the bed and take her in a bone-crushing hug, feverishly trying to assure myself that she's really there, that I can smell her perfume and let her hair tickle my face. I realize I'm shaking, and she notices it, too. And, as usual, she laughs away my fear.

"Hey, calm down, big bad wolf, nothing's happened, I'm fine. It was only a small accident, nothing more than a few bruises."

"That's not the point, and you know it. The war is over, there's no reason to put yourself into such great danger everyday anymore. You should step back a little."

"Remus, we've already had that discussion, I won't retire from the auror squad. I told you, nothing has happened."

"Then how come you're here? Maybe this time nothing happened. Maybe next time you're dead. It's too great a risk. Please, Nymph, you've done enough already. Relax and let the others do it."

"No I won't! I don't want to relax, I love my work. Besides, since when are you one to let the others do it?"

Alright, I couldn't very well say something against that, since I am actually still active member of the order and therefore in just as much danger as she is. Still. I don't want to loose her, ever, and I'm not going to take any risks.

"I don't understand why you're so stubborn about that." The moment that comes out, I realize it was wrong. She looks at me, and her face turns to stone. I can see the disappointment and anger carved into her face. It has happened. I've disappointed her, pushed her away. Maybe I should just go before she can kick me out. I stand up, slowly, and walk to the door. I haven't quite reached it when she states calmly:

"I'm pregnant."

I had objections to her plans. I wanted to give us a little more time to plan, but she insisted we do this before the pregnancy started showing. Which gave us about two months to plan. And it was hell to plan, even though I didn't really have a say in the important things. Molly and the girls took care of that. Another thing I was slightly objecting to was that the wedding was getting bigger and bigger. People were added to the guest list relentlessly, until it was decided to take it out of Grimmauld Place, make it a nice countryside wedding. Until the bride remembered she'd always rather liked her holidays at the sea. The problem how to pay for a 300 person buffet was solved when Narcissa Black, widow of Lucius Malfoy, convinced that her only son would never bring up the courage to propose to Ginny, decided she would spend the money on her niece in order to make up for the way she'd treated her sister's family. (Though I suspect she's only doing it to pressure Draco a little. I heard her say once that if she wouldn't want grandchildren so badly she would kill Draco for being this slow with a nice girl like Ginny.) Narcissa and Andromeda found this nice catering firm right in Cardiff, who don't only make the most delicious meat pastries, but also put up party tents.

I only wanted a nice, small, unspectacular wedding.

I learned one thing, and I learned it the hard way (including tears and insults from all females involved): Never get into the way of a woman's dream wedding. (Even if you're the groom!)

So here I am finding myself on a white cliff just outside Dover, in between the almighty blue sea and a huge sea of people, most of whom I don't even know. Arthur Weasley is standing in the front row, winking, while Molly sobs into his handkerchief beside him, accompanied by all the women who have been married into the Weasley clan over times and their respective husbands, and of course Ginny. Mad-Eye is making the grimace he calls a smile, but still looks around warily. The twins are whispering with Dung about whatever illegal business he's planning at the moment.

Dumbledore's got the usual twinkle in his eyes, and his reassuring gaze really is helping me not to be so nervous. Hagrid's already a bit emotional again, contrary to Severus, whose stare makes me worry whether all my guests will survive this party. I've no idea how Nymph managed to get him here. Still, it wouldn't be the same if he was missing. Of course, some people are still missing, but I can find them when I look around here: I see Lily in the red hair and warm smile of Ginny Weasley, Sirius in the mischievous grins of the twins, and, of course, James in Harry's messy black hair and round glasses. I turn around to where he stands a few steps behind me with Professor McGonagall, holding up the rings and giving me the thumbs-up. He's the best man of course, seeing as he's become the son I never had over the past years. I guess the professor is some sort of maid of honour, I don't exactly know why. Nymph just said it was because "she was the first to believe in me and helped me get into auror division".

Nymph is supposed to be here by now, by the way, so I start getting a little nervous. Just as I sneak a nervous glance down on my wristwatch, I hear a choir of ah and oh, and I look up to see the crowd parting like the red sea, revealing the most beautiful sight I've ever seen.

Nymph is walking down the aisle (yes, they laid out carpet for that) in between her parents in a long, flowing white dress. Even though her face is half hidden beneath a veil, I can see that she's in her natural form. Her dark hair is loose and tumbling down her bare shoulders in glossy curls, contrasting nicely with her pale skin and the white dress. My heart skips a beat when she steps up beside me. She smells of flowers, probably from the ones that are tied into her hair, and the scent mingles strangely with the salty ocean wind. I can barely think straight during the whole ceremony, because pictures of her keep flashing through my mind: From the moment I first met her as a small girl when visiting her with Sirius, to the day when we met again at the order headquarters, to the day she screamed that she loved me from the top of the stairs at Gimmauld place after this big row we had.

Harry has to nudge me when he pushes the rings into my hands, but I manage to take hers and push it on her finger. She does the same, and, for the first time in the whole ceremony, looks into my eyes. I could drown in these dark orbs, and never come up again. The minister says something, and she smiles and leans towards me. Oh, so we're already at the "kiss the bride" part. I pull her closer, her skin cool under my hands, and close the distance between us, forgetting about the people around us, about the losses we've had and mistakes made in our lives.

Time seems to stand still as we both try to put all of our feelings into the kiss, while the wind plays around us and blows away all our doubts and fears, leaving only love, and a promise of immortality.

A/N: Originally, this fic was inspired by and written around a song by Melissa Etheridge called "This moment", which you can find on the album "Lucky". Unfortunately, it's not allowed to post actual lyrics on so I had to take them back out again, even though it kind of destroys the story. I'm really sorry. Maybe I can post it somewhere else with the lyrics. I hope you enjoy the story anyway.

Thanks AliceJL for warning me.