Andromeda was bouncing a small child on her lap. They were sitting on the bride’s side, waiting for the choir to sing “Here comes the bride…” in unrecognisable French.

Sirius turned to her and smiled, and realised, belatedly, that he did not know her child’s name.

“It’s Nymphadora,” she told Sirius hastily when he asked. “Don’t be embarrassed, we haven’t seen much of each other...” She trailed off, embarrassed.

After Lucius and Narcissa kissed, they released a small dragon into the air. It burst into a million tiny sparks.

Andromeda spoke to Sirius once more at the reception. “Next it’ll be your wedding,” she whispered at the dinner table. “Seeing anyone special?”

Sirius couldn’t help himself – he glanced over at Remus, who was snickering with James about something.

He turned back and gave Andromeda a coy smile. “Yes,” he said, “but I’m not really the marrying type.”

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