(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)

"Where will you be going?"
James looked to Mad-Eye, and mussed his hair, "To the Leaky Cauldron," he said.
They were sitting in the kitchen, at the table. The other four inhabitants of the house were asleep, up in their rooms. It was just James and Moody that were awake. James fiddled with his cloak hem, as he talked with his teacher, very nervous.
"Can I tell you something, James?"
He shrugged, "Go ahead."
Moody's swiveling eye landed on him, and studied him closely, before continuing on in a very solemn voice, "You're young. Too young. Seventeen . . ."
"Eighteen," James said, "My birthday was last week."
Moody nodded, "Well, happy belated birthday."

"Thanks," he said quietly, and then Moody continued.
"Potter, you're eighteen years old. You have your whole life ahead of you," he said, "Now why in God's name would you want to settle down now?"
"Because I don't know how long I'm going to be alive," James said, "After what happened in the park, and then the forest . . . I don't know if I am going to have a long life. And I need to do what I have to do before I . . . before I end up dead," he added bluntly, and Moody snorted.
"You're not going to end up 'dead,'" he said, "Haven't I taught you anything? You think that with two months of my training under your belt that you're going to go off and get yourself blown up? Not likely, Mr. Potter."
James smiled sadly, and then said, "I just feel like its time."

"Marriage is a very serious thing, Mr. Potter," Moody said, drawing closer, "It's one of the most dangerous practices in all of human history. It can break a man. Kill him, even."
"I love Lily," James said.
"You don't know the meaning of the word," he said casually, taking a drink from his hip flask, "You're still a child."

"I'm not a child," James argued.
"Mr. Potter, have you ever woken up in the morning, rolled out of bed, and looked in the mirror?" Moody asked, "And when you see yourself in that mirror, you say to yourself 'God. When did I get old.'"
James slowly shook his head; not really understanding what Moody was getting to.
"Then you're still a child," he said, and took another swig.
"But I do love her," James said.
Moody snorted again, "Love is highly overrated, Potter. It causes weakness. A soft spot for the enemy to poke at with a stick."
"I don't care," James said, "I'm going to ask her."
Moody sighed, "Well, all I have to say is good luck."

James was given four hours away from Headquarters to change his life. When he came back to Moody's house, he would be a new man. A married man . . .
Or at least, a soon-to-be married man.
Peter helped him get ready that night, since he hadn't had the nerve to tell Sirius or Remus about what he was about to do. He remembered Sirius's face at the hospital, glaring at him like he had just committed treason. He didn't care what Lily said, he was still acting like an eleven- year-old, and if Lily said yes, he was going to lose it.
He was going to down right drive himself crazy.
Remus had too much on his mind, and would be badgering him about telling Sirius before telling Lily. He didn't want to talk to either of them, and he certainly didn't want their advice on anything. He just wanted a quiet friend to show moral support before he popped the question that would change his life forever.
He had thought long and hard after meeting Voldemort for the second time. He had almost died that night, and now it seemed as if it was more of a reality for him. He didn't want to leave Lily without telling her . . . without asking her.
And where would he go? Not the Leaky Cauldron. That wouldn't be too romantic, taking Lily into a bar filled with smoke and drunk hags, and asking her to marry him. No, he had just told Moody that so he wouldn't send one of his minions to tail them. He wanted this night to be his and hers. Only the two of them would be there.
He was taking her to a very special place.
"Which one do you think?" James asked, holding up two different robes, "The black or the blue?"
"I personally like the blue," Peter said, sitting on the bed, "But why not just go in regular clothes? Make it a little more casual?"
James nodded, "Right, right," he said and then dug back into his pack, "How about this?"
"Perfect," Peter said, and James threw the shirt on, as Peter crossed the room to reach the cologne, "Hey, James?"
"Yeah?"
Peter took the cologne, and handed to him as he tried to button his shirt, "Did You-Know-Who really ask you to join?"

James groaned, "Wormtail, I really don't want to talk about this. I'm nervous already . . ."
"And you're not going to, are you?" Peter asked.
James sprayed the cologne on, and handed it back to Peter, "No, I'm not going to join."
Peter nodded silently, and then said, "I . . . I wonder how long it will take . . ."
"For what?"
"Well, for them to know our names."
"I think they already do," James said, "I think they found that out that night in the forest."

Peter gulped, and his face became white.
"And . . . and still you . . ." he stopped, and then added, "I mean, you still want to go out by yourself tonight? Me or Padfoot could tail you . . ."
"No," James snapped, "Sirius doesn't know about this. If Lily says no, he'll never hear about it. This is between you and me, all right? Not Moony, not Padfoot. Okay?"
Peter's color returned, and he looked very excited, "Yeah. Sure, Prongs. Sure."

"Great," James said, "I know I can trust you to keep this secret," he sat on the bed, and reached for his shoes, "You've never told anyone before."

"Yeah, I know," Peter said, wringing his hands together, "You need help with anything else?"
"Just wish me luck, mate," James said, tying his shoe, "And hand me the ring from over there."

Peter walked to the chest of drawers, and took a sparkling box from its top. He opened it, and gasped in awe.
"It's huge!" he exclaimed.
"Yeah," James said, and then sadly added in a soft tone, "My father and mother left me a fortune. And Uncle Charlie. I wasn't supposed to withdraw anything for a few years . . . saving up for my first house and all . . . but I think that they'd be okay with this. They knew about Lily . . . or, Mum knew . . . and they would have been happy if they had known that we were getting married."
"So you think she'll say yes?" Peter asked, handing him the ring.
"I know she will," James said, and looked at his treasure, "She has to. I have the night all planned out. It's going to be perfect."

Lily was waiting downstairs, dressed nicely in her best Muggle clothing. Her hair was pulled back in a braid, and her face was sparkling with light. Her dress was very fancy, since James had told her to dress up. She had no idea what was in store for her that night. James had only told her that he wanted to talk to her about something important.
Which was true.
James saw a flash of her waiting for him at the Graduation Dance. She had been so beautiful that night. And now, after Lily had saved his life, battled with death itself, she was even more beautiful.
"Miss Evans," he said, faking a snooty accent. He held out his arm for her to lock with hers as he stepped off of the spiral staircase. She gave a laugh, and hit it.
"Cute," she said, "Very cute."
James massaged his arm, and then put it around her shoulders. She leaned her head on his shoulder as they made their way to the fireplace, where Moody was standing. He had the pot of Floo Powder in his hand, and looking at them disapprovingly.
"Remember, Potter," Moody said, handing them both a handful of Powder, "Four hours. No more, no less."
"Right," James said, and then Moody left the room.
"The Leaky Cauldron, right, Potter?"
"Yeah," he said, stepping into the hearth with Lily, "The Leaky Cauldron."
And then Moody was gone. James took Lily's hand, and whispered to her, "Say Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"What?" Lily said, "We're going to Hogwarts?"
"Shh," James said, and looked at the wall that Moody had disappeared behind, "Yeah, just say it, all right?"
And then James whispered the name, and disappeared in a puff of smoke. Lily then took her turn, and followed him in her own flash of light.
Peter watched from the spiral stairs, as they disappeared. He would never have anything like that. James didn't know how lucky he was. He had friends that loved him, and a wonderful girl.
Two things that Peter would never be able to call his own.
"Mr. Pettigrew," Moody called from the kitchen, "Tell Lupin and Mr. Black to come and prepare dinner."
"Yes, sir," Peter said, standing up, and walking up the stairs to retrieve the two recruits.