Author's Note: Hello all! This is one of the stories I'm doing for the Holiday Fic Event, information about which can be found on my profile. If you like this, check out the others listed below the Holiday Fic Event.

Disclaimer: I do not own characters or setting.

They played every night. It was a beautiful, beautiful sound, the sound of their guitars being strummed. Sometimes it was the only thing that would put their black-haired, green-eyed son to sleep.

Lily always sang, and whenever James was in a particular mood, he would too. Usually, though, he just liked to watch her play as he let his own fingers guide themselves along the frets. He watched her get lost in the music sometimes – rocking on the stool where she sat next to little Harry's crib, emerald eyes closed as she sang.

She'd played for as long as James had known her. Students would gather around the beech tree by the lake in their free time on the weekends to hear her play. In their school days, that was what Lily had spent all her free time doing when she wasn't studying for the next test – her guitar had been like her best friend; it was always there when she needed it, it always hummed for her when she cried.

James had picked up guitar in his third year, after worshipping her many talents – he did so secretly, of course – for two years. He'd hoped to win her heart with whatever he learned to play, but he never told anyone about the guitar until he was out of school. Then it became a huge part of his life – the instrument could put Harry to sleep, it could serenade his wife, and it could help him ease his own troubles.

Together, James and Lily made an amazing team – before they went into hiding, they'd talked about doing performances at Hogwarts. The Order had enjoyed a few of their performances, but they saved the best for their baby. Harry got rocked to sleep every night to the sound of their guitars next to his crib, playing in harmony. It was something they never tired of.

The first time that James had introduced Lily to his guitar, he sang her a song. It was a sweet, sad song, but Lily was unimpressed. She told him that real musicians wrote their own songs – he'd sung one by a band that she was obviously familiar with.

But how was he supposed write a song?

"It's easy," she'd said. "Just find something that really moves you. The hard part is putting words to it." Then she'd smiled and run off.

He sat, stumped, for about a half an hour at the kitchen table before Sirius knocked on the door.

James let him in. He sat him down at the table, grabbed a quill and ink, and prepared to take notes. He cleared his throat. "If you were going to put Lily to words, what words would you use?" he asked tentatively.

Sirius sighed and said nothing for a while. Then he shook his head, stood up, and said, "James, if you were to put Lily to words, what words would you use?" and then was out the front door before James could say anything more on the matter.

James sat in the kitchen for another half an hour, thinking and occasionally jotting down a word or a phrase. When Lily came home, he hid the paper from her sight by slipping it into the book she handed him when she came in the door.

"What is this?" he asked, admiring the leather binding and new parchment. One thing was missing, though – words. It was blank on the inside.

"It's a journal, silly," she replied. "For those important thoughts that you're supposed to have, y'know?"

James had nodded and brushed a hand through his already-rumpled hair. He headed straight for the backyard, sitting on a bench in the garden that Lily so loved.

He pulled out the sheet of paper he'd written on earlier. Three lines of semi-legible writing crossed it. James sighed. He'd have to write a song with nothing more than three lines to go off of.

Then he spotted the lilies and roses next to his bench.

He set to work.

Lily's Song

Graceful like the swan

Gentle like the doe

Like a sunset

She glows

Gorgeous to behold

Lovely Lily,

It took me years to see

What you truly are

It's always been

Right in front of me

A sweet chord on your guitar

Led me to find who you really are

A pretty flower

Petals curled into a shell

Beautiful when they unfold

Lonely Lily,

Why don't you tell me?

What is wrong?

You can cry on my shoulder

And I'll sing you a song

Colors like a rose

But still light

And pure

Like that flower you are

You are the true lily, I've often been told

Love me, Lily

I can't put many more words to you

None that I know are good enough

To describe you

I love you, yes, it's true

But I do think my songwriting days are through

Lovely Lily,

It's taken me years to see

Lonely Lily,

Please, please tell me?

Love me, Lily,

I can't find better words for you.

He smiled to himself as he read it over, and then memorized the words. Humming to himself, he ran to get his guitar and sat back down on the bench, working out the chords.

The next night, James set up a special dinner for Lily. He sang her 'Lily's Song' under moon-, star-, and candlelight, and then he proposed.

And she said yes.