When she was first invited into the Wizarding World, Lily Evans had thought magic would be all fun and games, sparkles and joy. She'd never expected war.
But now she's nineteen, and she and her boyfriend are on the front lines, fighting for justice, fighting for equality and humanity and everything good in the world. Even though, sometimes, it seems like the enemy is everywhere, and the people on her side are few and far between. Sometimes it feels like the whole world is burning around them. Sometimes it's hard to feel like there's something to save.
Tonight is one of those nights. She's so tired. But she looks at James sleeping in a chair next to the bed, his glasses askew and hair wild as ever, and despite her sore body, despite the narrow escape from Voldemort and two of his most loyal Death Eaters only yesterday, she's able to banish the darkness from her mind for a moment. She feels at peace.
She loves this man so much. So, so much.
His eyes blink open and he rubs them wearily, rolling his neck. His lips curve gently downwards and there are dark circles under his eyes, making him look older than his nineteen years. He's been in that chair for hours, she knows, refusing to leave her side except for necessities ever since they got home last night. She doesn't mind. She feels better when he's close.
He straightens his glasses and realizes she's watching him, and he reaches over to tuck her hair behind her ear and caress her cheek.
"All right, Evans?" he asks, his voice rough from sleep. She loves that voice.
"Better," she says, giving him a brief smile. But she winces a bit as she tries to sit up. "More like I got kicked in the chest, rather than hit by a lorry."
His hazel eyes are dark in the dim light. "I'm just so glad you're as good with a shield as you are. If you hadn't been able to deflect the explosion…" he trails off, then grabs both of her hands and kisses her knuckles. "I'm just so grateful you're all right."
"Me, too," she says, and offers him another smile. "I'm glad you're here."
He smiles back, his grin crooked and his gaze adoring, and suddenly he looks nineteen again.
It's that that does it. The world may be burning, but she loves this man, and the boy inside him. And she's alive, and they're together, and they're fighting a good fight.
They're far too young to be hopeless, and she isn't.
"James, let's go somewhere," she says abruptly. "We need a holiday."
He looks understandably surprised. "A holiday?"
"Yes," Lily says firmly. "I'm recovering, and you haven't got another assignment until Tuesday. That gives us at least three days of freedom, and I won't spend it all in bed."
"But you need to rest, love. And I may get called in before Tuesday, you know that."
Lily hmphs. "Tell Dumbledore you need the time off to care for me. He'll understand." She feels selfish, but yesterday's battle reminded her how precious their time together really is. She has to reach for whatever moments she can get and hang on with both hands.
She widens her eyes in a way she knows is hard for him to resist. "Please, James? Let's just skip town for a few days, take some time to ourselves. I just want to spend time with you."
James' expression softens. "I want that, too. And it would be nice to not worry about being called into action at any moment." His brow furrows over his glasses. "Are you sure you should be traveling, though? You shouldn't apparate, in your condition."
"It's fine," Lily says, giddy that he seems on board with her plan. "We'll use Muggle transportation. Now pack a bag. We're going to Ireland."
...
They have to take a train to the ferry boat, then the ferry across the sea, and then a bus on the other end. James is grumbling by the time they arrive at their destination, but Lily gets him to agree that the trek is part of the adventure. When they reach the fishing village where her father grew up, she leads James up a trail along the side of the cliffs with a view of the harbor.
There's lush shrubbery to their left of them and a rickety fence separating them from the jagged edge on the right. James had probably been right that she shouldn't be traveling, but she's wearing an enchanted binding around her torso and she's taken some painkillers, and it feels so good to be out in the sun looking over the deep—possibly unnatural—blue green of the Irish Sea. She knows this trip will be good for her, even if her body hates her for it later.
She can tell by the sparkle in his eyes that James is having fun, too. He loves nature, hills and mountains and adventure. And this adventure feels so far away, so different from their world right now. It's perfect.
When they reach a small clearing bordered by a rocky plateau, Lily motions for James to stop.
"Let's set up our picnic here."
"Brilliant," James agrees. He smiles at Lily as he sets his pack on the ground. "I do miss being outdoors with no purpose at all, you know? It's nice not to be running from one secret location to another, having to look over my shoulder for threats at every turn."
"Constant vigilance!" Lily barks, and James laughs.
"Yes, yes. Of course, Moody. Constant vigilance." He spreads out a sheet on a flat rock, and Lily begins unpacking their lunch. "But you know what I mean," James continues. "We're away from the fighting for a day, away from major government centers or Wizarding towns. We're not a target, for once. We're just...us. It's quite nice."
"See, I told you we needed this," Lily gloats, but she's so happy that he's feeling what she feels.
James grins as he sits down next to her and laces their fingers together. "And you were right, as always."
She sniffs. "It's about time you figured that out."
"I'm a late bloomer," he says, winking, and she has to laugh.
"Sure, something like that," she teases. She shakes her head. "You were always the most athletic, the best in class—I don't think you've ever been behind on anything in your life."
"Maturity, maybe?" James quips.
Lily laughs some more. "RIght, I'll give you that." Her smile is a little nostalgic, as if she's reliving a happy memory. "Remember back in fifth year, when you kept asking me for a date?"
"God, I try not to think about it!" James exclaims, slapping a hand to his forehead. "I was such a prat back then."
"Past tense?" Lily asks, eyebrows raised, and James' hand slides up and squeezes her side. It tickles. She giggles and swats his hand, and he pulls a face. "Fine, past tense," Lily agrees. "You were a giant prat. Until…you weren't."
"Yeah, well." James ruffles his hair. "Sounds silly, but I realized the world was bigger than Hogwarts. And it's not always great, you know? But if it can be, I want to be a part of that. So I started wanting to do something to help people, and not just the people I like best or the girl I've fancied since fourth year." He shrugs, modest and slightly embarrassed. "So, you know. I had to pull my head out of my arse if I was going to accomplish anything."
Her heart swells. "James, you've accomplished so many good things. Even back then—you might've been a prat who pretended he didn't care about anything except looking cool, but you never were someone who only cared about helping his mates. You've always looked out for other people. That's just who you are."
"I guess," he says, only partially willing to accept the compliment. "But you can admit it, I was a bit of a wanker back then. All I can do now is try to be better."
Lily smiles fondly. "And you're succeeding. Look, we know you're Gryffindor through and through—impulsive, reckless, and, when we were kids, thoughtless at times. But you're also loyal, and honorable, and brave, and so, so caring." She takes a deep breath and takes both of his hands in hers. "And because you're this loving, brave, man, and not the prat who used to ask me for dates whilst hexing people in the corridors, I think it's time for me to ask you something."
He gives her a puzzled half-smile. "All right, Evans. What is it?"
She swallows hard. Suddenly, she can't remember the words she'd imagined saying in this moment. He's staring at her, brow furrowed slightly in confusion and his hazel eyes intense behind his glasses.
His expression is worried, like he thinks her question could be dangerous.
It's very un-Gryffindor of her, but she loses her nerve. Instead of what she really wants to ask, she blurts, "Do you know how much you mean to me?"
James' face relaxes and he smiles a real smile, then. "Of course I do," he says. "At least, I think so. I imagine it's similar to how much you mean to me—which is to say, everything."
She swats his arm gently. "It's true, despite my best efforts to the contrary." She grins so he knows she's teasing. "But really," she continues, more somberly, "I love you. And you do mean the world to me. You give me strength, and hope, and courage when I need it. I'm proud to stand beside you every day."
His cheeks turn a bit pink, but he looks pleased. "Thanks, Lily. If I've made you proud, I consider that a job well done."
She leans in and kisses him, just to keep from having to think of anything more to say.
Well, not only for that reason. But it serves a dual purpose.
The kiss is slow and sweet, and she can taste her own cherry lip balm on James' soft mouth. His tongue sweeps gently against hers, and Lily hums with pleasure. She forces herself to pull back before she gets lost in the moment.
James' eyes open slowly and he blinks a few times as his pupils retract. His lips tilt in a lazy smirk, and Lily resists the urge to cover them with hers again.
She's ready now. She takes James by the hand and stands up, leading him to the edge of the bluffs.
"Do you know where we are?" she asks him, looking out over the sea.
"We're in Clogherhead, right? Your dad grew up here."
"Right." She takes a shaky breath. "He loved it here. He always said it was a part of him, so it was a part of me and Tuney, too."
"Makes sense," James murmurs. "It's beautiful."
"He proposed to my mum here. Right here, on these cliffs?"
"Oh?"
"Yeah." Lily nods. "So, I thought I might do the same."
"What?"
Her cheeks are flushed and her hands are shaky, but she says, "I told you before it was my turn to ask you something, didn't I? So, here it is." She searches his face, his warm eyes tight with anticipation, and she exhales slowly. "James, will you marry me?"
James's hands clench around hers. "Evans," he breathes, a cautious smile spreading on his lips. "Are you serious?"
"I am. I want to be your wife." She extracts one hand from his death-grip and reaches into the pocket of her jacket. She pulls out two silver rings, each depicting a pair of hands framing a heart with a crown on top. "My da gave me these before he died. They were his and Mum's. They're traditional Irish rings that symbolize love, friendship, and loyalty." She holds the larger ring out to him and bites her lip. "And I want you to wear this one."
"Evans, I…are you sure?" he asks, aghast. "They're family heirlooms, I mean."
"And you're my family, James. Whether you say yes or not." She holds up the rings again. "Love, loyalty, and friendship? You're all of that to me. You mean more to me than anything or anyone in the world. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
His eyes dim briefly. "Is that…are you doing this because you're scared, Evans?" She frowns at him, so he continues quickly, "I just mean, you nearly died yesterday. But you didn't. You're here, and you're not going anywhere." He squeezes her hands. "Don't get me wrong, I've loved you for ages. But I don't want you to ask me to marry you because you're afraid we won't have the chance to do it later."
Lily sighs, and her brow furrows as she thinks of how to explain that her question is so much bigger than yesterday, or today, or the war. Her question is about forever.
When she looks back up at James, her eyes are bright. "I want to marry you because I love you, and because you give me hope for the future. And because no matter what else happens, I need you to know that I want to be tied to you for eternity. Is that so wrong?"
His lips curve up in delight. "No," he says, with a slow shake of his head, "it's not wrong at all."
"Thank you," she says stubbornly. Then she bites her lip. "So, what do you say?"
He sweeps her into his arms, gently so as to not aggravate her injuries, and presses his forehead against hers, his glasses bumping against her nose as they slip from his face. He straightens and shoves the glasses back in place, then brushes a kiss across her nose, then another soft one on her lips. "Of course I say yes, love. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes." He beams. "This is the best day of my life! If only that sixteen-year-old prat could see me now."
"I told you, he wasn't so bad," Lily says, leaning into his chest. She tilts her head back so she can see his eyes. "And I love the man he's become."
James dips his head and kisses her again, with conviction. "And I love you, Lily Evans," he murmurs. "Here's to forever."
...
AN: a friend gave me this prompt of Lily proposing to James with Irish Claddagh rings, and I LOVED it, so I hope you all enjoy what I've done with it! Let me know what you think, I love your feedback :-)