"I think they really liked you." James commented as we exited the front door of his childhood home. It had been almost surreal for me to walk between the walls he had grown up in, seeing his poster-covered bedroom, his bed that was far too small for him to fit on anymore. I'd never before seen pictures of him younger than eleven, and it made my heart warm as if it lay out in the sun to see the moving photographs of such a little, baby James. Today, I'd finally gotten to meet his parents. I hadn't known what to expect, but the Potters were lovely people. James' mother had immediately pulled me into a hug. "I've been wondering when we were going to finally meet you! James always speaks of you."

"Fondly, I hope." Mrs. Potter had laughed, and I had snuck a look at James, who ran a nervous hand through his hair. She didn't look much like her son, with her hair shining a light brown in the sunlight, but I could see exactly where he had gotten those mesmerizing eyes from. Mr. Potter on the other hand, had provided many other physical features for James. He was a handsome man, with hair just as jet black, though he seemed to be able to tame it a little better than his son. They had welcomed me into their home as if I belonged there, beginning to joke and prod at each other the whole day. To say the least, this meeting had gone much smoother and been much more enjoyable than the meeting with my family had.

I swung our clasped hands between us, squinting up towards the afternoon sun.

"Really?" I asked playfully, nudging him as we walked. He nodded, and tried to land a kiss on my cheek; my dodging him just made it land on my ear.

I shot a glance in his direction, catching the grin that had been on his lips throughout the whole meal. He had acted much like the young boy in all of the photographs in his excitement. Apparently he'd wanted me to meet his parents for quite some time. It had been all he talked about this morning as we both got ready. He had also blushed like a little boy when his parents had relayed story after story of a younger James. Apparently, he'd always had a flare for trouble. We'd laughed for hours, with James attempting to justify himself, even as he tried to suppress his own laughter.

Still swinging our hands, I let my eyes wander around James' old neighborhood. We would have to walk a while, as some muggles were living on the block as well, before we could apparate back to our flat, but I didn't mind. The sun was shining enormously bright down on the walkway in front of us, the clouds barely moving for the lack of a breeze. A different kind of smile slid onto my face as I pointed up at the stationary puffs.

"That cloud looks like a quill."

James lifted his chin to see where I was pointing. His grin turned to that of knowing, his eyes shining just like they had been that day back on the grounds of Hogwarts. His arm crossed over me as he pointed to the other side of the sky.

"That one looks like a frog."

"Someone's imagination has improved."

It was his turn to nudge me, but my smile only grew larger. It was almost starting to pain my cheeks.

"That's a cactus."

"A Bertie-Botts bean!"

"Oh! That's a guitar!"

"No it's not! That's a spoon!"

I barked out a laugh at how indignant he sounded, like there was a right or wrong answer.

"Well, that one looks like you!" I rebuffed.

He looked incredulously at the said cloud. "How does that look like me?"

Laughter bubbled up again. "Look, it's got your glasses! Even the messy hair on top!" I ruffled his ebony hair, and his grin broke through again.

In a movement so swift, I didn't even see it coming; he came up and grabbed my wrist, whirling me around until my back was against his chest, his arms encircling my waist. The blush that painted my cheeks would have been much darker, except for the fact that there were not many people out at this time.

"You know," his voice sounded in my ear, always so deep. "You're right. The glasses, the hair…and it kind of looks like I've got myself a suit on."

Now he was just being funny. I rolled my eyes, but they caught on his fingertip, which was pointing up at the blue blanket above us again. "That one looks like you." His whisper came quieter, to the point where I was straining to hear him.

"See? The long hair, the eyes…you've got all white on. A dress. You're beautiful."

"The dress is white because of the clouds." I giggled, my fingers drawing pictures all over James' arms.

I didn't need to turn around to know he was smiling. His lips pressed against the side of my neck. "The dress could look like clouds if that's what you want."

Leaning back against him, I breathed in deeply, the familiar scent of James mixing with the smells of flowers, grass, and baking foods coming from the open windows of the surrounding houses.

"We look pretty good, don't we?" I whispered back to him, even though the fuzzy blobs in the sky didn't look much like us at all.

"We do."

I turned to him, and froze in my motion, halfway facing him in his arms, my hands clutching tightly to his forearm.

In front of me, stuck between James' pointer finger and thumb, was a simple gold band, with small pearl embedded in it. It was so simple; it was perfect. It was beautiful.

Warmth flooded my veins, as well as my cheeks as I finally realized the moment he was hinting at. James in a suit, my dress as white as clouds. This striking ring right in front of me.

"Marry me, Lily?" His voice sounded nervous as it reverberated off of every nerve in my body before actually registering in my brain. What in the world could he be nervous for? He must have known my answer long ago. Even if he hadn't, it was probably etched all over my face now. I could feel the smile filling my lips, even as fat tears pooled in my eyes.

"Yes," It came out as a small whisper, not much louder than his question. "Yes!" Now a shout. I couldn't seem to stop saying it. "Yes, yes James. I'll marry you. Yes!"

My arms had somehow found their way around his neck, and he swung me up close to him, twirling us on the street. There were more people than there had been before, but I couldn't bring myself to notice them. They didn't exist, not in this moment. Not in the moment that belonged to James and me alone. Explosions were erupting inside of me and my glee was exiting out by way of laughter, unintelligible words, squeaks and squeals.

James had managed to slip the ring on my left hand, even with his hand shaking in joy, relief, bliss. It sparkled in the sunlight, and it fit just right. He landed a kiss on my lips, bringing my hands close towards his heart.

Others passed us just as the clouds did: lazy and refusing to notice the haze of happiness and perfection that swirled around James and me. We could have been in our own flat for all it mattered. James held me in his arms, showering kisses all over the skin he could reach. I returned them when I could, but I was still too dazed to move at any sort of quick pace.

"You know, that cloud does look a lot like us." I laughed as I pointed at the misshapen white splotch in the sky. James only pressed his lips to mine again, even as we both shook; with laughter, with anticipation, with pure exhilaration.