Prompt: James and Lily graduate from Hogwarts, and in October 1978 they go to a pumpkin patch.

"Be careful!" Lily chastised from her position curled up against his side. Sirius had challenged Peter and Remus in a race to climb to the top of a pyramid constructed of bales of hay– and then had proceeded to attempt to take out his competition by force. Remus wobbled precariously for a moment, (from Sirius' unsportsmanlike shove) and regained his footing. Lily let out a breath of relief.

"Already regretting bringing us along with you?" he teased, pressing a kiss to the top of her knit cap clad head.

"Not at all," she said, smiling up at him. "I used to come here every year with my parents and Petunia before…" she trailed off– unwilling, or unable to put into words how much she'd lost in the past year.

They'd graduated from Hogwarts that spring, full of optimistic hope– as if through sheer determination and force of will they could change the wizarding world for the better. He and the other Marauders got a flat in Wizarding London, largely funded by his and Sirius' trusts while they sought employment. Lily and Marlene had moved into a flat in a muggle neighborhood a few blocks away– though the boys and Marlene teased that Lily might as well have moved into the flat with him, she was there so often (not that he minded in the least).

They'd been unprepared for the harsh reality of the world that awaited them on the other side of the castle gates. The war was starting to truly begin: tensions mounting between the Dark Lord Voldemort's followers and those whom he wished to eradicate like a common pest infestation– people like Lily. The mere thought of it had him pulling her closer, assuring himself that she was there. She was safe.

Even the muggle world hadn't been the escape he knew she'd wished for. Her (in his opinion, horrendous) sister, Petunia, had announced her engagement to an absolute walrus of a man– Vernon Dursley. She'd promptly moved out, spurning any and all of Lily's attempts at reconciliation.

A few months later, while out for drinks with himself and the others at a muggle pub, Lily got the news of her parents' death. He knew she'd worried they'd be targeted, due to her involvement in the Order, and had started plans to move them into hiding. What she hadn't expected was their deaths through no fault of her own, or based on notions of blood purity, but at the hands of a muggle driver who had too many drinks before getting behind the wheel of his automobile. The accident had made the muggle news, playing across the television screens of the pub they'd chosen that night. He'd watched as the terrible realization slowly dawned across her features. When the muggle reporter finally disclosed the names of the couple killed in the accident, she'd collapsed to the ground with a wail of grief so profoundly heartbreaking it etched itself into his bones.

He dropped to his knees beside her, pulling Lily into his arms and ushering her out of the pub and back home to let her grieve in private. In his flat, he'd held her as she let out anguished sobs that broke his heart. He held her and didn't let go. He held her as she wept at their funeral, held her as she railed against the injustices of the world. He held her when her sister sold their parents' home and cut all ties with Lily, and he held her tight until her sobs became silent tears, held her until those tears dried, and held her after, as she learned to live again.

Slowly she'd come back to him. Back to herself. And he couldn't contain his awe at the strength of the woman snuggled up by his side today.

"I know," he whispered back to her, "I'm really proud of you."

She blessed him with one of her glorious smiles, though this one was a little watery. "It's not as hard as I thought. To be back here," she clarified. "I thought I'd be a sobbing mess the first time without them– thought this was another thing I'd lost. But it's good to be back here, with family."

Family.

Lily thought of him and the Marauders– whom he'd considered brothers for years now– as her family. It took James a moment for the thought to sink in. Longer than he'd like to admit– even to himself, that Lily referred to him and the Marauders as family.

The thought made his heart swell with pride and love.

Marry me.

The impulse caught him by surprise, though it was a thought he'd had more and more frequently. When she laughed at a particular joke he'd told. Marry me. When she counseled Sirius, as only he had been able to before. Marry me. When she worked tirelessly to brew a drought of wolfsbane for Remus that didn't have all the negative side-effects he normally suffered through. Marry me. She helped Peter secure a job at the ministry, without making him feel badly. Marry me.

He'd had to tamp down on the urge to blurt it out constantly. A gentle smile when she thought he wasn't looking. Marry me. Bickering over if four nights of take-away was too many in a row. Marry me. Waking up next to her, marry me. An exchange of goodnight's. Marry me.

Marry me. Marry me. Marry me. It was practically a chant inside his head. One he had to hold himself back from just randomly shouting at her daily.

"What?" Her whispered question drew him from his reverie. "What did you just say?" she asked again.

He stared at her in shock. Had he said it out loud? From the look on her face, it would seem that his silent mantra hadn't been so silent afterall. James felt a momentary flare of panic stir in his chest, but it was quickly overwhelmed by the love he had for the woman in front of him.

"Marry me," he said on an exhale. "That is, will you marry me? Will you marry me, Lily Evans?"

"Is this a joke?" her voice sounded strangled and he could see the hesitant hope in her eyes.

"It's not a joke. I have been thinking about it for a while now. And I was going to plan something grand and romantic, because you deserve nothing but the best. But I guess it got away from me this time." As he spoke, it occurred to him how absolutely mental he probably sounded– rambling at her a half-done proposal, but he couldn't stop. "I have loved you since I was fourteen years old. Probably longer. And I never thought you'd give me the time of day– but then, against all odds, you did." She let out a watery chuckle, and he took her hand in his.

"You let me have a second of your time, and I was done for. I fell even more in love with you, if that's even possible. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be there for everything. I want everything with you, Lily. I know we're young, but there's no version of my life where I wouldn't want you in it. Forever." He drew a shaky breath. "So, will you marry me, Evans? Even though I practically shouted the proposal at you and I don't even have a ring yet– oh, fuck, I don't even have a ring– what am I doing?"

She cut off his mad rambling with a hard kiss. "Yes. Yes, I will marry you, Potter," she said, smiling ear to ear. "At least, I think that's what you asked me somewhere in there," she teased.

"You– you will?" he hardly dared to believe he wasn't dreaming.

"Yes, I will marry you, James Potter. I would be beyond honored to be your wife, you silly, silly man." With that he pulled her into a kiss, giving her a real snog this time.

"Wait," he said, pulling away, "Why am I silly?"

"I don't need the roses or fireworks or whatever other grand gesture you'd inevitably think up with Sirius. I only need you." And she pulled him into a kiss that shut his brain up entirely– except for a new chant it had picked up.

Wife. Wife. Wife.