It's me, Lauren. Sorry it took so long to update. I hit a bout of writer's block and then I forgot that I was supposed to write this chapter and then school started and then I waited for Juneaua to edit it for about a month… you get the point.

Anyway, the previous chapter was the last one with anything from Juneaua, at least for a while. She's ridiculously busy, or so she tells me, and after she finishes her own Eragon story, she's not doing anything fanfiction-wise until she has her chaotic homework situation back under control. She'll still edit (most of the time) and she might write here and there, but until further notice, everything you read is mine.

Hmm… anything else? I know Juneaua always tells you what music she's listening to, but if I listen to music while I'm trying to write, I end up typing the lyrics by accident, so you get things like, "He blinked disbelievingly. 'You mean that I'll live forever with Satan himself by my side, and I'll show the world that tonight and forever the name to remember is the name Edward Hyde!" (I've got Jekyll and Hyde stuck in my head today). Not so good when you're supposed to be doing a Marauders fanfic…

The rain was pouring hard, drenching the world in torrents of water. Sheets of it slid down the roofs of the houses, gushing from the drainpipes into the gutters, where it joined the flood already rushing down the gentle slope of the street. Muddy shoes splashed in ever-widening puddles, fighting their way home through the driving wind and hammering rain.

There was only one pair of feet that did not run for shelter, only one that did not bother trying to skirt the puddles and gutters. The owner of the feet did not hunch his shoulders against the pounding elements, but rather turned his face up to greet them as they rushed from the sky. The torrential rain and chilling wind seemed to have no effect on him, for his countenance bore a half-disbelieving, half-jubilant expression, with no small amount of relief evident as well. Had passersby glanced at him instead of bowing their heads against the wind, they might have thought him quite mad; he seemed completely, blissfully oblivious to the downpour around him. Nothing, nothing in the world, could dampen his spirits tonight.

Because Lily had said yes, and James Potter felt as though he could take on the universe and come off victorious.

He felt lightheaded as he ascended the steps to his apartment. The last half hour had passed by in a blurred, idyllic daze, and the only thing that seemed of the remotest importance was the thought: She loves me, and she's going to marry me.

The dismal looks on his best friends' faces didn't even register to him as he turned the doorknob and entered his apartment. They were sitting across from each other at the table, with two cups of coffee and a folded piece of parchment between them. They both looked up as James came in.

A brief nod answered the unspoken question in their eyes. Remus' tired face broke into a smile, and he said sincerely, "Congratulations, Prongs."

Sirius's response was to clap his friend in a bear hug, a gesture that spoke stronger than any words he could have uttered. When they pulled away, leaving Sirius nearly as wet as James was, the latter sank into a chair and closed his eyes happily. "I have all I could ever want," he said hoarsely.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look, which James didn't catch because his eyes were shut. It can wait, Sirius mouthed, and Remus nodded, glancing with a sigh at the parchment that lay on the table.

Sirius busied himself getting a cup of coffee for his friend, and Remus asked, "Care to tell us about it?"

James settled more comfortably into his chair, still keeping his eyes closed as though attempting to preserve the memory forever. He started haltingly, blushing as he recalled his blunders and grinning at the good parts, and as he continued his voice got stronger and steadier. Sirius and Remus made an excellent audience, laughing and smiling and waiting with baited breath at exactly the right parts.

"I didn't let myself think. I was on my knees before I knew what I was doing, and the words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I—I was terrified," he said quietly. "I was scared that I'd done it all wrong, that she was going to say no, and how could I ever bear that?" He moaned softly. "It would have been terrible, and it would have driven me over the edge. And there was only a second or two between when I finished and when she answered, but it felt like an eternity, and the whole time I grew more and more petrified until I was absolutely positive that she hated me and would never want to see me again."

Sirius choked back a laugh; his friend's face was completely serious.

"And then—finally—she…" James's voice broke. "I can't remember the exact words, but she said something that definitely meant yes." He knew that her answer should be one of the memories he cherished forever, but he couldn't remember exactly how she had put it; it was too much of a pleasant blur to discern any particular point, so he satisfied himself with knowing that she had said yes.

What he didn't tell his friends was the conversation they'd had on the way back to her apartment.

"James," she said softly, entwining her hands in his, her mouth very close to his ear, "can we get married soon?"

"Of course we can," he answered, pushing an overhanging branch out of the way for her and accidentally showering himself with the rainwater that had pooled in the leaves. "We can be married tomorrow if you want, I'll arrange it all."

She laughed, and he felt something within him burst with delight at the sound. "Not that soon, but some people take six months to plan their wedding, and I don't want to wait that long."

"Why not?" he inquired, only half of his mind engaged in the conversation. The other half was busy coping with the elation the last few minutes had brought him.

When she hesitated, he looked down at her with a concerned expression on his face. "What is it, love?" he asked quietly.

Her hand tightened around his. "What if something happens?" she asked in a whisper that he barely caught. "What if one of us…. Oh, James, I'm going to be blunt. What if one of us died before we got married because we'd put it off?"

"Died?" James repeated disbelievingly. "Why would we die?"

She shot him a glance that conveyed a sort of loving exasperation, which broke into a giggle as he bent down and scooped her into his arms, carrying her across a flooded stretch of sidewalk. "How could I die when I'm so incandescently happy? Nothing will stop me now! I shall live forever and ever!"

"Put me down," she laughed, slapping playfully at his hands. "It's useless, I'm soaked through anyway."

He obligingly set her gently on her feet in the middle of the puddle, and the next second he found her arms around his neck and her lips against his, heedless of anyone on the street who might be watching. "Make me a promise," she murmured.

"Anything," he breathed. "I will walk the world over to get you a blade of grass that you want."

"Promise me we'll be married soon."

"How about tomorrow?"

She smiled and kissed him again. "Not that soon. Within a month."

He looked surprised and a bit disappointed. "That long?"

Her brilliantly green eyes sparkled mischievously. "Your mum would be scandalized if she didn't even get a chance to send out wedding invitations."

That was why, when Remus asked when the big day was going to be, James responded, "A month from today."

"Merlin, that's soon," Sirius said, fiddling absent-mindedly with the piece of parchment on the table. "Where're you going to have it?"

James shrugged; he hadn't gotten that far yet. His mind couldn't get past the wonderful thought that Lily was actually going to marry him. He glanced at Remus, who didn't look nearly as happy as James thought he should. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," Remus answered, sitting up a bit straighter. His tone was convincing, but a furtive look at the parchment in Sirius's hand betrayed him. James grabbed it before Sirius could snatch it away and looked at it curiously.

One side of it said J. Potter, Apt. 47, 19 Demosthenes Dr., and the reverse side was scrawled with a hasty note that was blurred in some places, as though tears had fallen on it while it was being written, but before he could read it, Sirius yanked it back.

"Don't read it," he said imploringly. "It can wait; don't let it ruin tonight of all nights."

"It's mine," James said, trying to tug it back, and he added coolly, "and I'll thank you not to read my mail."

Remus flushed guiltily, but Sirius was unrepentant, refusing to relinquish his grip on the paper. "You've always said to help ourselves to whatever was yours, and besides, it wasn't sealed or anything, and I accidentally read the first sentence and couldn't help reading the rest. Anyway, I bet there's a similar one waiting for me and Remus at our apartments."

James's heart sank. "What does it say?" he asked nervously, no longer sure he wanted to know. If there was one for each of them, then it was from the Order, and the Order brought worse and worse news every day.

Remus and Sirius looked at each other, and the latter heaved a sigh. "It's the Hansens," he said slowly.

"What about them?" James prompted.

"They've… James, they're dead."

James blinked disbelievingly. "All of them?" he asked softly.

Sirius nodded grimly.

"But… the—the kids?"

Remus let out a bitter, humorless laugh that sounded quite chilling coming from him. "You think that Voldemort would spare them, just because they're kids? I bet he relished it." He stood abruptly and faced the window, but James could still see his reflection in the glass; he was crying.

"But—" James's mind kept trying to come up with excuses, reasons they couldn't be dead. "But they're purebloods!"

"Yeah," Sirius snorted, "and the biggest family of blood-traitors I've ever seen, next to Weasley and his brood."

"Runs in the family, I guess," Remus muttered. "Amy Hansen was Arthur Weasley's sister."

Remus had developed a very brotherly love for the three Hansen children because their father had been the only one to offer him a job since they had left Hogwarts, and he had formed a special bond with the family that welcomed him in spite of his lycanthropy. James could see the sorrow and pain etched into his face. Just what he needs, he thought dully. More grief.

The elation that had filled him for the last hour seemed to have deflated quite a bit, but nothing could quench his spirits entirely, not tonight. The murder of the Hansen family was a horrendous tragedy, but he wasn't going to let it dishearten him. He laid a consoling hand on Remus' shoulder, listening to the rain pattering against the window, and asked softly, "You guys want to stay here tonight? It's lonely when we're all in our own places."

Remus tried to decline, but James could see the grateful look in his eyes when he was pressed to accept, and Sirius answered by pointing his wand at the fireplace to start a merrily crackling blaze, summoning a sleeping bag out of thin air, and settling himself down on it.

"Prongs?" came a whisper from Sirius's direction at around one in the morning.

"Mmm?" James muttered, rolling over sleepily.

"D'you think Moony will be alright?"

James sat up and looked at the face between him and Sirius, and even though he couldn't see it for the darkness, he could imagine it: pale, worn, and sound asleep. He was barely nineteen, but he could have passed for thirty. James let out a long, tired breath. "I wish I could say."

"I'm afraid he'll crack under everything he has to make it through."

"Remus is made of stronger stuff than anyone gives him credit for," James said firmly, lying back down. "He'll make it, and we'll do what we can to help him through it."

Hidden by the darkness, eternally grateful for his friends, Remus smiled.