Lily wasn't quite sure when she fell in love with James Potter.

Oh, she knew when she started to think differently of him, when found him helping a first year who had been hexed rather nasty by some older students, because that's when he showed her that he could be caring and could take his Head Boy position seriously.

She even knew when she started to like him. After she had slipped on the ice in Hogsmeade and some of the students were laughing at her, James held out his hand, helped her up, kissed her hand, and (very subtly) cast a pain relieving spell on her bum. She had spent the rest of the trip with him and even agreed to go on an official date with him after the day was over.

James Potter had changed from the obnoxious, arrogant, persistent prat to a slightly arrogant, still persistent, sometimes-good guy, without her noticing. And that's also how she fell in love – without her notice.

She supposed it was all the little things. How he had whispered he loved her at the end of their third date and was okay (well, maybe not okay, but was willing to wait) when she admitted she wasn't quite ready to say it back. When he had bought her roses instead of lilies like all the other guys, even though she'd never mentioned she hated that to him. How he'd contently sit with her while she read, but would also start to tease her when he (and she had to admit, he was sometimes right) believed she had been sitting still for far too long.

And his kisses. Those were most certainly part of the things that made her fall in love with him.

So while it came to her as a surprise when he dropped to his knee the day before graduation, in the middle of the Great Hall at that, and asked her to marry him as soon as possible, she couldn't deny she loved him and wanted the rest of her life with him.

And even when she stared face to face with death for their son, she was still glad she made that choice.

Because no matter how brief it may be, it's better to have lived life with love.