Have you ever fell down stairs? I'm sure that at least once in your life, you have fallen down those cursed death traps. Do you remember when falling, that feeling of panic? In that moment, when you have just tripped but not yet crashed to the ground? If you have ever fallen down some stairs, you know exactly what I'm talking about. But if you are lucky and well-balanced enough to have never fallen down stairs, then let me explain. Your heart beats extraordinarily fast. It feels although it's going to fall out of your chest, much like your clumsy legs have just fallen down the stairs. The palms of your hand are sweating, disgustingly so. But even though your heart is falling and your hands are sweating, you continue to fall down the stairs. Because it's simply too late to stop falling. You wait for the fall, for the inevitable moment when your body hits off the surface. But you embrace the crash because sooner or later, the falling had to stop. You had to come back down to earth.
Falling in love is much like falling down the stairs. Moments before she walked down the aisle, Lily Evans came to this conclusion. After realising that James Potter, the very bane of her existence, was to be fellow Head Student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, alongside herself, Lily decided that avoiding the messy haired, hazel eyed young man would be at everyone's best interests. But no one willingly chooses to fall down the stairs. Over the course of the school year, Lily gradually began to have feelings for the extremely handsome Head Boy. She denied this of course, because to give in now after all those years of retaliating, well it would simply be admitting defeat on her behalf. And Lily Evans, the high-spirited, bad-tempered, red-headed girl that she was, let's just say, admitting defeat was not an option. But James Potter, with his coal black, bird's nest messy hair, his mischievous twinkling hazel eyes and of course, the famous Quidditch skills to go alongside the famous ego. Somehow, he won his way into Miss Evans heart. With the help of Hogsmede dates and butterbeer that is.
Now she was no longer to be Miss Lily Evans anymore. Although, Mrs Lily Potter did have a lovely ring to it. Picking up her bridal bouquet (lilies of course, what else?) she grasped her father's arm and off they went, to the sound of the traditional bridal march. There was Sirius of course, naturally going to be the best man. He winked in her direction. Sirius always had an inkling, from their third year at Hogwarts to now at their wedding day, that Lily and James were meant to be. No war, no death eaters, no Voldemort was going to get their way. Remus was there also, sitting in the front row. He had been such a dear friend to Lily over the years. Studying together in the library, him letting her rant about a certain prankster Quidditch star. Oh yes, Lily valued his friendship dearly. And who could forget about Peter Pettigrew? The whole of Hogwarts had watched the shy young boy, climb out of his shell and blossom into the trust-worthy, loyal man that he was today.
And then there was James. James who vowed to protect her no matter what. Who couldn't give a Hippogriff's arse about what her blood purity was. Who was now standing at the bottom of the aisle, with a smile so large Lily was surprised his face hadn't broken yet. Looking at James, at her friends, at her dear muggle parents who were confused as to how the candles were floating in mid-air by themselves. Lily knew that everything was going to be alright. They would be safe, they would fight against the darkness that threatened them, and they would continue to fall in love no matter what. Because sometimes, Lily mused to herself, falling down the stairs isn't as scary as it seems.