Remus' POV.

I had booked a tiny cottage in Ireland. It had a log burner (though I doubt we'd need it in august) and it's own vegetable patch. The owners said wild horses lived close by, as well as deer and the neighbours cat (who lived a decent walk away) frequently pops by the cottage to say hello.

We arrived early morning. Clouds creating patterns in the pale blue sky. Birds tweeting and flying above us, often landing on the thatched roof of the cottage and being nosey.

Arty had an aura around her bluer than the summer sky. I knew she didn't particularly have the energy to travel but I also knew the fresh air and new scenery, with zero interruptions, would serve her well on her healing journey.

I also refuse to begin our journey towards marriage out of sadness. I didn't let Narcissa trying to force us into it determine the memory, and I wouldn't let a desperate Arty determine it at our dining room table either.

I never thought I'd want to get married, but if I am...it has to mean something and feel right. I wanted a proposal to feel like something to celebrate, not something to rush into because of a situational crisis.

"This is cute." Arty mumbled wandering around the cottage I had just unlocked. Delicately picking up odd trinkets on shelves and reading book titles the owners had collected.

"And it's ours, for the weekend." I smiled at her.

She looked back at me, smiling too. Sincerely, though tired looking.

"This weekend let's just forget everything." She said quietly, putting down a book she started skimming through.

"That's exactly why we're here, darling." I said, walking over to her and wrapping my arms around her from behind. Planting a kiss on her soft cheek and holding her close.

"What's there to do around here?" She asked. Glancing out of a small window to our left.

"Not much. It's just a pretty landscape." I admitted.

"We could pick some berries, I saw berry bushes as we were walking up." She softly said.

"We could absolutely pick some berries." I smiled at the sound of her relaxing.
"We can also cook and relax and kiss," I added in a list, leaving tiny kisses on the top of her head.

I span her around slowly, so that she now faced me. Looking up into my eyes with a twinkle she had almost lost since her loss.

"Go stargazing, watch the wildlife...and have sex." I said in a dancey voice, a smirk growing on my face and swaying her as my hands rested upon her hips.

She giggled and playfully hit my arm. The twinkle in her eye beginning to shine a little brighter.

I laughed at her lightly and pulled her in for a playful kiss. Dramatically scooping her up into my arms and diving onto the sofa.

"Maybe have sex, again." I said in the same playful voice.

"Remus!" Arty giggled, now led on top of me.

Our laughter quietened down and I looked at her with a deep sincerity.

"I'm really proud of you." I told her.

"What, why?" She asked but her cheeks began to glow a bashful pink.

"Because life has been pretty shitty to you and you're still a beautiful, kind person." I said truthfully.

She was a ray of sunshine, powerfully shining through storm clouds. Always a reminder that through rough times, there's sunlight on the other side.

"Life has been pretty shitty to you too, wolf boy." She winked.

"Agh you know how I hate that! I was just trying to compliment you and you've ruined it!" I laughed.

"You help me stay kind." She said, dropping her laughter but smiling at me.

She has no idea how truly strong she is. How with or without me she would still take the upmost care with how she treated her things and the people around her.

She has no idea how impactful she's been to me.

We have our own, modest but enough space for two, house. Something I ever thought I'd be able to do; share a house with someone I love, and not just platonically.

I wanted to marry her. Wake up to her in our bed every morning and offer to make her, her favourite tea; chamomile. Go to sleep next to her knowing she loves me just as much as I love her (though I didn't really think that was possible). One day the fact I'll be able to call Artemis my wife was astounding to me. There was a point in time where I truly believed I would live and die alone. I'd be the forever single friend, and not entirely by choice. That point in time wasn't too long ago. Only a short two years ago, before she walked casually make into my life and through that bookshop door.

The most astonishing change she's encouraged is that I didn't feel so ashamed of myself anymore. There was still shame, so deeply ingrained into me that I doubt it'll ever completely go away, but that feeling was quieter. She made me feel less self-deprecating, loathing and hopeless for my future.

I'd even consider having a family because of her; something I swore I would never do.

She made me feel like being a werewolf was simply a health condition that we had special circumstances for. Every full moon she brewed me a concoction of herbs and potions that made the pain feel more tolerable, introducing the numbing spells and changing my dressings without a flinch or fuss.

She showed me that caring for someone like me didn't have to be some big song and dance. That I didn't need to heal my scars, hide my pain or be followed around in the moonlight.

She thought I was the strong one in this relationship but it was all her.

I drank too much before I met her, slept with people who didn't love me, tried my hardest to make myself smaller, more tolerable and easygoing for those who worried about me.

Now I feel like a better man. Healthier. Hopeful. Happier.

And I couldn't wait to ask her, formally to be my wife.

To make her,
Artemis Ophelia Lupin.