The Secret Marriage

No earthly church has ever blessed our union

No state has ever granted us permission

No family bond has ever made us two

No company has ever earned commission

***

"Sometimes, I wish we could do it properly," you said to me only hours ago.

Properly. Like James and Lily, you meant. You want the ceremony, the rituals, the solemn vows, and then the champagne-filled reception where all of our nearest and dearest would wish us a lifetime of wedded bliss. We'd march together down the aisle, say our I Do's, and afterward James and Peter would make toasts as grand as the one I made to the Potters tonight.

But until the Ministry removes that nasty little "sacred bond between a man and woman" clause from the Magical Marriage Act--and I doubt they ever will--what we have shared these past four years will have to suffice. But you know as well as I that no official-looking sheet of paper could bind us more absolutely than we are already bound to one another. We need no earthly church or government, magical or otherwise, to tell us what we are.

And we are married, Remus, because marriage is about more than a certificate and an elaborate ceremony. I know it. I can feel it when we're lying here together, beneath the sheets of our bed in the safety of the home we share, and every time I press my lips to yours, feel your skin beneath my fingers, hear the simplest but most sincere declarations of love whispered in the dark, I know completely that my soul is indeed wed to yours.

***

No debt was paid, no dowry to be gained

No treaty over border land or power

No semblance of the world outside remained

To stain the beauty of this nuptial hour

***

"Sirius...."

The word comes as a mere breath against my shoulder in these early hours of the morning. A bit drunk still from all the evening's festivities, I wonder momentarily if that pressure against my skin is really your lips. It is; I'd know those lips anywhere.

I turn to face you, lifting a hand to trail my fingertips over your bared throat, your Adam's apple, the graceful dip just above your collarbone, and then across that smooth sparsely-freckled chest. I love your skin like this--warm, a little sticky, but wholly pliant under my gentle caresses. I used to think of moments like these as surreal, but now that they have become my reality, I marvel that this fantastic feeling inside me does not dissipate.

Do you think this is natural?

You asked me that once a long time ago, sixth year, or maybe early in seventh. I don't remember what I said then, but I know now that nothing could ever be more natural. Defining love in terms of some unwritten law, putting limits on what should and what should not be felt--that's what's unnatural.

"I love you, Sirius."

But let the world have it their way. We'll have it ours. What we do and feel inside these four walls is all that truly matters. Anything outside of them will remain outside and can never leave its ugly, hateful stain on the love we share.

***

No flowers on the altar

No white veil in your hair

No maiden dress to alter

No Bible oath to swear

***

"Remus...."

I breathe your name against your lips and push a hand through your hair and kiss you with all the love and adoration and devotion I know how to put into a kiss. Can you taste all that? I think you can. I can taste it on your lips as well.

"My Remus," I whisper, tracing the perfect arch of your brow with the pad of my thumb. "You are mine, and I am yours."

Your raise your hands to my shoulders and press me, gently but firmly, back onto the pillows before draping yourself over my side and sliding an arm across my chest. We lay for a moment in silence, the two of us, and I play idly with your hair as the breaths you draw become more and more shallow.

"Forever," you sigh as finally sleep begins to take you.

Forever, indeed. I want to give you forever, if I can. You know me, Remus. You know I don't settle down for anything very long, but surely the fact that in four years I have never left your side must say something. But forever is a promise I'm afraid to make. We are, after all, in the midst of a war. Who among us can truly know how long "forever" will last?

But there is one promise I can make you--I am yours, and I will love you for as long as fate will allow it. And while I can't seal that promise with a "proper" ceremony, can't march you down the aisle in my grandest dress robes and have flowers on the altar and slip a golden band onto your finger, I can seal it with a multitude of kisses and caresses and enough I Love You's to fill the silences of a million nights like this.

You are mine, and I am yours, and nothing can ever break our secret marriage.

The secret marriage vow is never spoken

The secret marriage never can be broken