PROLOGUE: Let Your Light Shine

Wednesday, 24 October 1979
The Lighthouse Estate – East Anglia, Wizarding England

"Good afternoon, boys. Might I have a word with you, Cousin?"

James Potter and Sirius Black both looked up from the large map they had spread between them.

The wizards shared a mischievous grin, before answering in unison:

"Sure thing, Cousin Delphinus. Which one of us?"

Delphinus Black-Potter rolled his eyes with good humor at his younger cousins and their cheek.

As the son of Charlus Potter and Dorea Black Potter, Delphinus was indeed the older cousin of both wizards: James was his Potter cousin through his father and Sirius was his Black cousin through his mother. Delphinus was many years older than both boys and didn't often see them together, in one place – and thus, it was rare for them to have this amusing moment of confusion.

"I'd like to speak with my House of Potter little cousin," said Delphinus with a grin. "Not my House of Black little cousin, unfortunately."

Sirius grinned as well and gave an easy shrug. "Just as well. I can make my final choices and we can get on with this thing…"

Sirius returned his focus to the enchanted map of North America that he and James had spent the past hour or so pouring over. James followed Delphinus until they were near the center of the Quidditch Pitch. They were far enough to have a private conversation, but not rude enough to exclude Sirius if he had truly wanted to know what was going on. James looked at his cousin, expectantly.

Delphinus looked more like a Black than he did a Potter, if James were to be honest. The pale blue-grey eyes and chilled sharpness of his features had clearly come from his mother and not anyone of their fathers' bloodline. There was very little that was Potter about Delphinus on the outside – but only on the outside. Anyone who knew him well knew that he was very much a Potter.

The message he had for James was proof enough that Delphinus was a Potter. For, only a Potter could impart the hushed words from himself to an expectant James.

"Your presence is requested in The Light Room for afternoon tea, James. The Potters who know the Light are awaiting you, little coz."

A happy thrill spiked throughout James. He tried to keep himself composed, fully aware that the childish whoop he wanted to yell out was more suited to a child of ten than an adult wizard of nearly twenty-years-old.

"I've been deemed worthy of The Light Room?" asked James, breathless with excitement.

Delphinus nodded, proudly.

To anyone other than a Potter, the brief, quiet exchange between cousins would have seemed to be nothing of any particular importance.

James was engaged to be married, after all. He was only days away from the marriage ceremony that would be an important, incredible moment in his life. It was natural that he'd be invited to sit amongst the elders and adults of his family, allowed to be present to start partaking in wisdom and advice from men in his family who'd already ventured down the path he was about to set out upon.

James knew better, however. Between the two Potter wizards, however, it was full of meaning and a cause for celebration. No Potter who'd been worthy enough to enter within The Light Room remained the same as they'd been before. James couldn't help the excitement that burned within him, as he quietly accepted his cousins offer.

"Let it be known that I'm honored to be invited to The Light Room. Thank you, coz – truly!"

Delphinus clasped James's shoulders briefly, then with a cherry goodbye to a distracted Sirius, the older wizard left as quickly as he came.

James flopped down upon the crunchy grass of the Quidditch Pitch and sighed, happily.

Sirius glanced up from the enchanted map, fleetingly. "What was that about?" he asked, his gray eyes looking back towards the map after a second.

"Nothing. Delph said that Dad wants to see me for afternoon tea," said James, easily and truthfully. Sirius was the closest he had to a brother and related to through the same interwoven heritage as all purebloods - but he wasn't a Potter. "Something or another to do with the wedding, I'm sure."

Sirius beamed, his handsome face glowing with genuine joy, as he always did whenever the coming nuptials of James and Lily were mentioned.

The private ceremony was going to be limited to family and their witnesses, only, but the hushed nature of the wedding did little to dampen the immense joy that everyone felt for the couple. It was a close competition between many others, but there was nobody that was happier for James and his bride than Sirius was. The young wizard seemed to take a personal pride in the coupling of his best friend and fellow classmate – almost as much pride as he took in being the Best Man for the ceremony that was to be held the following Wednesday evening.

"I can't wait!" declared Sirius, with the same infectious excitement he'd had when Lily had accepted James's proposal twelve months ago. "Look, speaking of – I've decided that if I had to pick, I'm choosing between Mount Greylock and the Magical Gulf Coast for your honeymoon."

"Padfoot, no." James scoffed. "Those are two different places entirely, even though they're in the same country. Plus, I've heard Rougarou attacks and Lethifold sightings are an all-time high, this time of year in the Gulf Coast. Lily and I want to enjoy our honeymoon – not spend it fighting for our lives."

"Well, then. Guess you're going to leave the Gryffindor in you back here in England with me…" Sirius declared, briskly. James swiped at him, which he deftly, expertly dodged without looking up from the map. "Well, if the Gulf Coast is out of the running…then, Mount Greylock is the only other place worth visiting, if you ask me."

James rolled his eyes, reaching for the map to look closer. "I seriously doubt that, Sirius. This is a country stretched across an entire continent. I'm positive there's a lot to look at, if even if you think it's boring and not worth it. Let's look again…"

James grinned, as allowed Sirius himself to be baited and suitably distracted. His curiosity about what the two Potters had been talking about vanished. Sirius began arguing, as he had been since James and Lily announced their honeymoon destination last month, why honeymooning in Wizarding United States of America was boring. Especially compared to what Canada and Mexico and Central America promised to offer for a long weekend trip.

He'd gladly resume that discussion instead of having Sirius continue to be curious about a Potter secret James couldn't possibly share with him.

There were things that belonged to the House of Potter and the House of Potter only.


The Light Room was something of a myth within the House of Potter.

From generation to generation, the intriguing and amusing tale of a fabled room of Potter treasures, wealth, and history being hidden somewhere on the family grounds was something passed along to all Potter children from their childhoods. The tale was a family legend, so to say. Something interesting about their bloodline and ancestral homestead that would occupy mischievous and adventurous Potter children, between lessons and Quidditch and family time.

Very few Potters were chosen to learn the truth of The Light Room and all its power.

James had craved being able to know The Light Room for himself since he was a little wizard. Not as a family fable, but a real and living hub of ancestral magic that so few were privileged to have direct access to.

Knowledge and welcome within The Light Room was the only part of the Potter inheritance that was not freely given to all the House of Potter. It was special and a gift only the worthiest of Potters was allowed to know of. Being a Potter wasn't enough, not according to the ancient standards that the first Head of the Potter House had created centuries ago for his descendants to live and thrive by.

A Potter had to earn the right to be welcomed in the most meaningful room of the Potter family estate.

James had been examined and found worthy. He was enough for the honor of being invited to The Light Room.

A quiet pride glowed within him as he knocked on the ancient door, waiting with an unusual patience until someone – his father, perhaps? – opened the door and bade him welcome.

His guess was correct.

Fleamont Potter opened the door, a purely joyous smile on his face.

"James, my precious boy!" declared Fleamont. The Potions Master was truly bursting at the seams with devoted love and pride, as he beckoned his only child forward, eagerly. "Come, come – we've been waiting for you, my son!"

James found himself holding his breath, as his father stepped back to let him inside. He'd been dreaming of this since he was a little wizard, and it was now occurring in this moment. He was taking his first steps into the most hallowed room of the Potter ancestral home.

The Light Room lived up to its name and more.

The private parlor was bigger than he thought it would be, being unable to see any evidence from the outside of the manor house that this room even existed. A large dome made of quartz-infused glass made for an impressive ceiling, arching down into the walls to provide stunning rows of long, looming windows throughout the room. The theme of deep gold and bronze seemed to absorb every bit of light that came down through the glowing ceiling. Bookshelves were placed in the four corners of the room. James could clearly see with wizard space, they were more than just a towering row of books; they appeared to sink back into the wall for several feet, an enclave within the hidden room itself.

The room was full of treasures and keepsakes that were too sacred for the vaulted caves of Gringotts, where the Potter family had stored its main wealth for centuries. There was no doubt that there were items in this room that Hardwin Potter himself had touched, more than nine hundred years ago as the first Potter. Knowing how ancient and full of history The Light Room had to be, James began looking around for what he knew was there –

And he smiled as he found the motto of the House of Potter above the roaring hearth.

Luceat Lux Vestra.

The brief but powerful combination of words was the mantra and meaning for every Potter.

James had known it as one of his first phrases, somewhere alongside the importance of mother and father. The motto of the House of Potter was more than an ancient saying that had been kept alive for centuries. It was truly the crux of being a Potter.

James was in awe as he stared around The Light Room, taking in as much as his eyes would let him.

The Light Room could be seen as a private parlor for the Head of the House – but, what made it extraordinary was the depth of magic that overflowed within the elegant room. This was pure, infallible Potter magic. Endless bursts of warmth and light seemed to pour into every part of him, as James closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

This was his birthright as a Potter.

The deep, bottomless wellspring of ancestral magic that was distinct to his family and their bloodline for hundreds of years…it was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. James was certain that if he were to try, he'd likely be able to pick up on the magical signatures of every Potter who'd also known The Light Room, over the centuries. The magic and the power of the ancestral magic was that strong!

James smiled as he opened his eyes. He was full of peace, confidence, and what had to be pure Light itself, as he looked around at his gathered relatives.

The worthiest of Potters surrounded him in this moment. He was humbled and honored at the privilege.

Great-Grandfather Horatio was seated on an antique chair that looked to be carved of pure oak and inlaid with gold, amber, and citrine. James didn't know if it was the chair or his great-grandfather's age that made him look as if he'd come along with The Light Room from the time of their ancestor Hardwin Potter's original creation of it. At a hundred and fifty years old, Great-Grandfather Horatio was the oldest living Potter and practically exuded raw power - and James couldn't help but beam with pride as his great-grandfather gave him an indulgent, mischievous wink.

James knew that he'd gotten his high-spirited, bold energy from Great-Grandfather, a fact that continuously irked Grandfather and sometimes concerned Father.

Now, however, Grandfather Henry didn't appear to have it in him to think anything, but all the moon and stars shone from James and James alone.

James chose to delight in the unusually positive attention, instead of overthinking it. Most times, James and Grandfather Henry didn't get along very well. James was all the Potter fire and light and courage and more, fueled by the unpredictable power of the Shafiq bloodlines of his mother. There was nothing but pure energy and brilliance from James, which people either adored or despised. Sometimes, James worried that Grandfather was among those who tended to despise all his bold, wild spirit.

However, he'd never think so again. Not with how Grandfather Henry had come and scooped him into a crushing, emotional embrace.

James delighted in the unexpected, rare show of affection from his grandfather.

Beside them, Fleamont sniffed noisily. The Potter Potions Master was blinking away happy tears and accepting the good-natured snickering and chuckles at his ripe enthusiasm from his uncle and cousins. It was a well-known fact that Potter men were rather expressive and emotional beings. There was no shame at all in the graying Fleamont's stance, as he looked every inch the indulgent father, witnessing his own father with his only child.

Laurus Potter patted his nephew on the shoulder with a soothing tut.

James grinned at the sight. He supposed if anybody knew about the weeping joy inspired by the love for a son, it was Grand-Uncle Laurus.

As the story had been told to him many times, Grand Uncle Laurus had been beside himself at his only son's wedding and greatly embarrassed Cousin Charlus at the serious, elegant affair that was his wedding to Dorea Black. James had thought it was made funnier by the fact that Grand-Uncle Laurus had become famous for his hysterics by the time Charlus's son, Delphinus, had gotten married. Apparently, Laurus and the scene he'd made because of his great love and joy for his grandson was enough to have sent James's mother into labor. One could almost say that James himself had been brought into the world, because of Laurus and his well-meaning theatrics.

Thankfully, Fleamont was nothing like his uncle. His tears had been only brief, and he looked nothing less than a glowing, happy father, as the Head of the House came to his feet. Horatio Potter's thick, snow-white hair caught the light of the balmy autumn afternoon, as he spread his arms wide towards his great-grandson.

"Welcome to The Light Room, my boy," said the deep, wizened voice of Horatio Potter. James's elderly great-grandfather raised his worn oak wand into the air and declared with a hail of gold and red sparks: "Luceat lux vestra!"

Every Potter, James included, echoed the ancient family motto with warm reverence in crisp, clear English.

"Let your Light shine!"

Fleamont was beside himself. "Oh, my precious boy, my James Horatio!" The Potioneer pressed a kiss to the side of his son's temple. "You've been eagerly awaited for longer than you know."

James was moved, as Fleamont folded himself into the embrace that Grandfather Henry hadn't yet relinquished. He was a grown wizard of nearly twenty, but something about this made him feel comforted and secure as he ever had, more so when than when was a little wizard. He was well-loved, well-cherished, and well-aware of how genuinely awaited his birth had been.

And he never had to doubt was completely adored because of it.

His father's words warmed him deeply.

The emotional introduction of James into the tradition of The Light Room had passed and everyone was happier because of it.

The Potter wizards made quick work out of making their youngest newcomer feel comfortable in their family's oldest tradition.

Fleamont happily ushered James into a waiting armchair beside Horatio. Grandfather Henry presented James with a goblin-wrought chalice of citrine and copper, which matched the glasses that everyone else were holding. Cousin Charlus was jolly, as he offered James an elf-rolled cigar, while Cousin Delphinus poured him a liberal amount of rich, spice-scented wine.

James felt as though he belonged, here amongst the menfolk of his family and the most ancient traditions of the House of Potter.

A toast was lead in his honor by Grand-Uncle Laurus.

Everyone took a generous drink from their goblets and James smiled around at the gathering, gently puffing on his cigar among his family.

"My James is getting married in a week, my fellow Potters!" announced Fleamont once another round of wine had been sipped upon and duly appreciated. "On these very grounds, one week from today! The House of Potter will welcome his bride into the family, and he joins us the greatest adventure and responsibility a Potter could wish for."

"Marriage, fatherhood, and family!" crowed Cousin Delphinus. "A Potter's most valued role in life!"

James grinned and sipped his wine again, looking around as everyone agreed with Cousin Delphinus's bold declaration, eagerly.

"It is indeed a great blessing and a great gift you are about to receive, Grandson," Grandfather Henry declared with a soft smile that was not usually unlike him. "I have been blessed to have over 100 years of joy and love with your Grandmother."

"Grammy is one of a kind, that's for sure," James agreed, adoringly. There was no one quite like his grandmother, Haesel Bones Potter. Outside of his mum and Lily, he'd never known a more perfect witch to exist.

Grandfather Henry nodded, fervently. "There is no other witch for me. Not on this side of the Veil or beyond it, I believe. Your life improves as a wizard, when you've got the witch meant for you on your side." Henry raised his glass to James, who was sitting in quiet awe of the rare vulnerability from his austere grandfather. "May you and your betrothed, the future Lily Potter, have all of our joy and more, Grandson."

The Light Room seemed to vibrate with the depth of love and sincerity that Henry spoke over his grandson and his bride.

James nodded, humbly. "Thank you, Grandfather. That means a lot to me, coming from you," he added, sincerely.

Henry seemed too overwhelmed to speak, blotting at his eyes with a handkerchief, discreetly.

From the other side of Great-Grandfather Horatio's chair, Cousin Charlus raised his glass higher than Henry had his.

"If we are speaking blessings over little Jamie, then I have one to offer to him and his bride." Cousin Charlus swallowed thickly, a sudden glint of sorrow in his eyes, as he declared: "May you and your bride, the future Lily Potter, always be by one another's side never to be separated by earthly forces nor heavenly might. May you never be separated in this life nor by the Veil, knowing many years and everlasting love with one another."

This time, it was not James's imagination that a soft glow pulsed up the quartz-infused walls.

The Light Room was alive and responding to the love and warmth of his family spoken over and poured into him. The ancestral magic that had been sown into this space for hundreds of years seemed to be in fierce agreement with all that was being professed for James and his beautiful bride. When Grandfather Henry had spoken of love and joy throughout their years, The Light Room had delighted; yet, when Cousin Charlus had asked with yearning that his young cousin and the rising Potter bride would never know division once they were bonded for life – that had been another sort of joy, the deep approval of lasting bonds the Potter magic favored.

James couldn't help but be in awe. The House of Potter and its magic seemed to be giving its blessing upon his marriage, if such a thing was possible.

A soft sob from Charlus made James realize just how profound Charlus's wish for his marriage was.

James understood when his elderly cousin couldn't bear to go on.

The older wizard turned away from everyone, seeming to look upon the early morning sea for a few moments; everyone respected his need to gather himself and didn't remark upon it.

His wife, Dorea, had crossed the Veil two years ago, shortly before Christmas in James's Seventh Year. The unthinkable pain of losing his bonded wife had nearly destroyed Charlus. Delphinus had hardly fared better, the death of his mother shattering him quite soundly. Delphinus had barely been able to console his daughters, who had lost their grandmother so early in life; somehow, Charlus and his son and grandchildren were recovering. The branch of the family that boasted of a House of Black bride was coping far better than they had in a couple of years earlier. But Charlus and his children and granddaughters would never be the same again, with Dorea Black-Potter gone beyond the Veil.

James hoped that he never had to know the pain of Cousin Charlus and his descendants. A world without Lily, without his wife here with him and their family, beyond the Veil and out of reach until their own time to meet Death…James shuddered at the thought. It was unthinkable and Charlus was a brave wizard for bearing through the experience.

Grand-Uncle Laurus pulled Charlus into a comforting embrace.

James looked upon his uncle and his son with a new understanding in his eyes.

He hoped that whenever he became a father, even when he was over a hundred years old like Grand-Uncle Laurus and his son was in his seventies like Cousin Charlus – they shared the same closeness that allowed for such deep comfort and love. Grand-Uncle Laurus kissed the side of Cousin Charlus's head, just as affectionately as Fleamont had James's moments earlier.

With his arm still around his only son in soothing comfort, Grand-Uncle Laurus smiled affectionately at his grand-nephew.

"I wish to add to the prayers of endless joy and a martial bond that is stronger than the Veil, dear nephew." Laurus Potter was nearly bursting with an inner joy and wisdom, as he declared: "From what I have heard of your bride, you have chosen an excellent match for your magically wedded wife. A marriage of true minds can be more valuable than gold, thus for you, I hope to see the pair of you grow and continue this excellence in your children and their children, too. May you and your bride, the future Lily Potter, know partnership, success, and build a legacy worth of the House of Potter!"

James had to sit his glass of wine down, as his glasses became blurry. He'd never imagined that tears would be a part of the special and profound tea – but, apparently, it was truly the trait of a Potter wizard. He had to wipe his own eyes. He hadn't expected any of this.

The sincere and powerful wishes of joy, everlasting love, success – these were all the deepest, most adoring wishes of his family for himself and Lily.

The Light Room only grew brighter as the men of the House of Potter poured into their youngest and brightest, their heir, James.

Cousin Delphinus tried to sniff discreetly, as he got to his feet, clearly intending to speak his own piece. He appeared determined to not be as expressive as his kinsman about his emotions, but there was only so much resisting he could do. James blotted at his eyes again, grinning wetly at Cousin Delphinus as the older wizard swallowed thickly against his own emotions.

It must have been his late mother's cold and controlled Black blood that allowed him to speak without his voice breaking, as he shared his own well wishes for his younger cousin.

"From what I know of your bride, little coz, you'll know all of this and more." Cousin Delphinus raised his glass higher than all of them, his arm seeming to reach for the domed peak of The Light Room as he declared fiercely: "May you and your bride, the future Lily Potter, know power beyond measure. May you know how to use this power only forged between wizard and wife to protect your union, your children, and all descendants of your branch of our House of Potter."

The Light Room flared in brightness and their elders murmured appreciatively at the unexpected blaze of raw, untamed magic.

James was impressed. Cousin Delphinus assuredly knew what power was and what it could do for a couple, if used properly – and, for the first time, James could appreciate this. The ideals that Delphinus held had always seemed so foreign and out of date to James due to their age gap; he could see now that the age gap wasn't the problem. It was that he and his much-older cousin were in different places in life and Delphinus was living through a different point in his life James was too young to appreciate. He was now beginning to understand.

As the older Potter wizard had shared with him briefly, during his engagement party last Christmas – the right witch as a wife could take a wizard to places, places he'd never dream of reaching on his own might alone. His wife, Gretchen Gamp Black-Potter was a powerful witch indeed. He'd thought her cold and mysterious as a boy, but he understood a bit more, now that he'd become a man.

James grinned at his older cousin as he put his glasses back on and was warmed by the same indulgent, mischievous wink from Delphinus that had come from their Great-Grandfather Horatio.

"I cannot help but see and feel the Slytherin in that, but it is welcomed and needed, nonetheless," teased Fleamont, as he smiled at his cousin's son. Cousin Delphinus had been Sorted into Slytherin House as was the expectation of his mother, much to the good-nature exasperation of the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff-dominant Potter family. "With the times we are in, I welcome all of this for my son. I appreciate the love and devotion to the House of Potter that inspires you to feel this way about him."

Another toast was offered in James's honor. The love and loyalty were thick among them, as they began smoking on goblin-rolled cigars, indulgently lit by the wand tip of Horatio Potter.

James looked around at his gathered family. His father, his father's father and grandfather, his uncle, his cousins - he couldn't remember if there'd ever been a moment like this before.

He wasn't sure there'd be another moment like this again, so perfect and so full of magic and family.

James decided to take the opportunity to ask something he'd been worried about, something he hadn't dared voice aloud before now.

"Am I making the right decision?" asked James of all the Potters gathered before him. "I love her, but is this right, what I'm doing to our family? There has never been a Muggleborn in the House of Potter, ever. Our family is nearly a thousand years old! There has never been a half-blood before, which my children - our children - will certainly be. Am I making the right decision? Am I doing something that will change our family forever?"

This was a deep fear that he never dared speak on before.

Who would understand what he meant and not take it as a subtle prejudice against his bride? Who would not be scandalized by hearing things from a Potter boy, a family known for alliance and justice and equity and all that was Light? His deeply buried doubt about crossing cultural lines and marrying someone from a non-magical family wouldn't have sounded like anything other than the wildfire of prejudiced and mistrust that were responsible for the war right now.

James was not unsure of anything about Lily. Nor was he unsure of the sincerity or permanence of their love and the glorious future that awaited them as husband and wife.

The lone uncertainty that he'd been holding inside and burying deeply with him, each time it attempted to surface was the fear that all for his own happiness, he was bringing something to his family that they weren't prepared to handle. Something which they didn't deserve to have to endure or handle, simply because they were his family, and this was his choice in bride.

He had been afraid for more than a year that by choosing Lily Evans, he had created a target upon every branch and root of the House of Potter.

For there was no bolder statement against blood prejudice and the ideals of the Dark Lord than one of the oldest, purest families in Britain making the willing choice to give up their pureblood heritage, all for the sake of love and unity with non-magical culture and its people.

Nobody seemed to be surprised at this, as James allowed his anxious words to hang in the silence between him and his family.

He felt oddly relieved as he realized there was only understanding, comfort, and wise knowing from all the beloved wizards of his family.

"You are making the right decision, Grandson," said Great-Grandfather Horatio, in a voice that was low but strong. "Your marriage to this Muggleborn witch, the first Muggleborn Potter, is what is needed and necessary for the future of the House of Potter. You've brought our family forward into progress and for that, I am deeply proud of you."

James blinked tears away, overwhelmed by the plain truth from the oldest living Potter.

Great-Grandfather Horatio reached over and grasped his chin firmly, ensuring that James was looking at him directly in his fiery amber eyes as he continued.

"Listen to me and listen to me well, James Horatio Potter," said Great-Grandfather Horatio. His words carried easily in the quiet, attentive room of his Potter sons, grandsons, and great-grandsons. "You are the future of the House of Potter. You are making history with your marriage. We Potters have been pureblood for centuries, this is true. Our pure blood is only a matter of tradition and the best choice, however – not a matter of exclusion. Never, ever has it nor will it ever be a matter of hatred or prejudiced. I remember a time when the Wizarding World gladly welcomed those of non-magical heritage, because they were a witch or a wizard - and that's what mattered." Horatio was a touch bitter, unwillingly thinking about how the British Wizarding World was a deeply different world than that of his own youth over a century ago. "Before all this division and hatred about blood status, purity, and supremacy, the Wizarding World valued magic above all else. Magic is where our might is and unites us! I would rather you marry for magic and might than blood or purity."

Grandfather Henry nodded, fiercely. "Well said, Father! Well said!"

Horatio allowed James to turn his gaze toward his grandfather.

Henry's identical amber eyes were piercing as he declared: "The future of magic is magic, not blood status. Your bride might not be pureblood, but I have met her. I have come to know Lily Evans – and her magic is mighty, powerful, and strong. Exactly what the House of Potter needs of its brides and mothers of our children!"

James leaned into his great-grandfather's affection touch, allowing himself to be comforted as he had been when it was very small still. This was assuaging his deepest, gnawing, fears and for each of them, James was thankful.

"In simple and plain terms, our James Horatio Potter," said Great-Grandfather Horatio, as he made James look back at him once more. "We are proud that you are making history for the House of Potter. We are pleased to welcome Lily into our family as the first Muggleborn Potter. You've made a fine choice in your spouse, my precious great-grandson son."

Murmurs of hearty agreement and praise warmed James from the very inner part of his soul.

He was truly at peace, now.

Anything that would have made him anxious or worried about standing upon the ancestral altar and joining himself in bonded matrimony with Lily a week from now…all of it was well and truly gone.

James was ready.

He had known there was nothing more he wanted than for Lily to be his wife when he'd proposed to her last year. He was willing to take the step, willing to make his deepest desire come true and be married to the love of his life. But, until now, he hadn't quite been ready for all that it would entail.

He was ready to be a husband to Lily. A father to their children, whenever Magic blessed them with the fruits of their marriage and the continuation of their blended bloodline. He wanted to spend his life alongside her, doing whatever it was they would do with the especially long and health lifespans Wizarding folk were gifted with. There was no other possible way that his life could go from here.

Husband and wife.

A family.

A union that would create and grow their own branch of the glorious family tree that was the House of Potter.

James was smiling brighter than the crisp autumn sun that streamed down through the heavenly ceiling of The Light Room.

There was so much that could be said, so much that would be said - but, for now, James could think of nothing appropriate at this moment than what he knew to be true.

"Luceat Lux Vestra!"