A/N: Hello! The sun is shining, birds are chirping, the bees are buzzing... it's a beautiful day to be alive.

I don't really know what I was thinking, just something slightly silly with a bit of a serious note at the end. As always, thank you, thank you for all your support! I adore you all - I appreciate you more than words can express. I hope you enjoy this chapter and have a pleasantly lovely day!

JAMES' P.O.V

POTTER'S COTTAGE

OCTOBER 1980

"Morning," a cheerful, breezy voice sings out, jolting me awake.

I glance up to see Lily, already dressed with a tray in her arms. She sets the tray on the desk and makes her way over to me.

"Morning?" I ask, too tired to be properly confused by the scene before me.

"I made breakfast."

"I can see that," I say, taking in the beauteous sight before me of toast, eggs, bacon and oh Merlin that smell. Why?"

"Because why not? I got up at 5 am for some reason and I had one of those random bursts of motivation… It's been a very productive morning."

"Oh Merlin," I groan. "What have you done now?"

"Hey! You're going to really like it, promise."

"As much as I love surprises –"

"Have a little faith, will you? This used to be one of your favourite months of the year. We can take Harry out to the woods, step in piles of leaves, carve pumpkins –"

"It used to be one of my favourite months, when the others were here."

Lily's smile seems to falter for the slightest moment before brightening, somewhat falsely at first but then genuinely as though remembering something.

"That was the other thing. I got a letter this morning."

She tosses me a letter written on the back of a Cauldron Sale leaflet.

Lily flower,

Almost finished. Be there around lunch.

Padfoot.

"Padfoot's coming here?"

"Yeah, he's finished whatever Order business it was that he had to do, so he's crashing here for a few nights."

"He didn't send me a letter."

"No need to start sulking," she teases, grinning. "He just likes me better than you."

"Always so full of yourself."

"I have to be – how would I be able to handle you otherwise?"

"Excuse me, what exactly are you trying to insinuate?"

"Now who's getting all defensive?"

"You can't answer a question with a question!"

"Can't I?"

"Now you're just being difficult."

"Better difficult than a bore, don't you think?"

"No, no I don't think."

"Well that's evident, isn't it?"

"You're mean this morning."

"Not mean, just sharp… Is James Lord-of-All Potter conceding to my superiority?"

"Fat chance of that, Lily-flower."

"Ooh, are you challenging me?"

"It's not much of a challenge if I'm going to win."

"Someone sounds confident, but can you put your money where your mouth is?"

"Naturally, it's what I do best."

Without warning, she jumps forwards and start tackling me. I'm not prepared for wrestling this early in the morning. We roll over a few times, sometimes wobbling dangerously close to the edge of the bed but soon the strength in her arms slackens a little and she's giggling, our legs intertwining with each other, her hair splayed out everywhere like a halo. I have her pinned so that she's half hanging off the bed – all the responsibilities that have been weighing me down seem to vanish. I can't help laughing too at the sight of her eyes dancing with child-like amusement.

I lean down to kiss her but she jerks upwards and spins us over, so that's she pinning me.

"Got you," she whispers into my neck.

"Always," I whisper back.

She kisses me then and all I can feel is my love for her, the way she brightens up my day with a single smile, the way she can make all the pain dissipate with a single touch, the way she's always there, through thick and thin, holding my hand, keeping me upright and helping me get through it.

LILY'S P.O.V

"Lily, I'm really not sure about this –"

"Yes, yes, I know, now please shut up for just a moment."

I lead him, blindfolded into the storage-type room that we never use. I've spent the whole morning finishing a mural/timeline on the wall of Quidditch throughout the ages, told in a series of illustration/collages and captions – all the big matches, the Cups and also his Hogwarts matches (took quite a bit of research, I can tell you). At the end, I've got Harry on his broom, playing a mini game of Quidditch with James. Harry won. He's always doing really sweet things for me so I wanted to do something for him and I know how much Quidditch is a part of his life – or was- and how much it means to him.

I take off his blindfold and he looks around, slightly mesmerised.

"Lily… this is – wow. I didn't know you can draw."

"I can't," I reply, "but I can make collages. It's all made out of wallpaper scraps, cuttings from the Daily Prophet, newspapers, magazines…"

"It's incredible," he breaths, still looking around in awe. "You're incredible."

He picks me up, spins me around and kisses me.

"You did this all by yourself?"

"Harry tried to help but yes, I've had a lot of free time now that we're not allowed to fight."

"So this is where you've been for the past month."

"Yep."

"I did wonder…"

"What did you think I was doing?"

"Oh Merlin knows; I've learned that it's best not to ask."

"I wanted to do something nice for you –"

"Lily, this is more than nice, this is spectacular."

He kisses me, hugging me tightly and holding me close. How did I get so lucky? Whatever did I do to deserve someone like him? I love him more than words can say. It's a love that touches my heart the way the first rays of sunset touch your skin, it's a love that makes me breathless and leaves me in awe the way gazing at constellations in a navy expanse spattered with starlight can only begin to compare to, it's a love that warms me from the inside, even when he's not around the way a cup of tea on a cold winters day soothes my bones. His kiss and his touch lingers long after he's gone, his presence brings me alive. He is a part of me, as essential to me as sleeping or breathing. He taught me how to let go, how to be free and most of all, he taught me how to love when the world seems to be void of it. Never have I been so aware of another person as I am of him. Never have I felt such a way about anyone as I feel about him.

LATER ON THAT DAY

The doorbell rings – it's Padfoot.

Sirius bursts through the door, grinning like Christmas came early. Harry barrels through and charges at Sirius, wrapping his tiny arms around Sirius' legs. Sirius laughs and picks Harry up, swinging him around in a way that makes my stomach lurch – but I know that Harry's in safe hands. Harry giggles uncontrollably before Sirius sets him down on the ground.

He and James do their "man hug" (another bloody rule of Maraudership). I throw my arms around his neck – I'm pleased to see him. He's been gone longer than I've ever known him to be gone – he hasn't shaved in months and he seems to somehow have grown.

"Long time no see," I say.

"Missed me Lily-flower?"

"Never."

"However did you manage without me? I bet this house was so empty whilst I was gone."

"Not with this little blighter around, running rampage," James says, ruffling Harry's hair affectionately.

"I got your letter, glad to hear Harry liked his present."

"Did he ever, we've hardly been able to get him off of it, have we Lily?"

"No," I sigh, "he's been terrorising the poor cat…"

"Does the cat have a name yet?"

"Actually yes, we've called it Oscar – after Oscar Wilde."

"Damn typical – you two are such nerds. I walk in here and bam – I'm assaulted by an excess of nerdy-ness."

"Well, moderation is a fatal thing, nothing succeeds like excess," James smirks, winking at me.

"Can I please escape the Oscar Wilde quotes for at least five minutes?"

"Fine, it's not my fault you have no interest in the genius that is Oscar Wilde," I say.

"Now I see why you two are soul mates – absolutely crazy, the both of you."

He then strolls past us into the kitchen and with a flick of his wand, turns on the kettle and settles himself on a chair, his feet resting on the table. I can't help grinning because this house wouldn't be a home without the people that live in it.

"How was the mission?"

"Mission," Sirius snorts. "I wouldn't go as far as to call it that… It was pretty shit – we all split up at one point – Benjy got blown up. We were searching for hours, only found bits of him."

"Merlin, that's awful."

"I know, I liked Benjy. He was a good man, always had a nice thing to say about everyone. Hestia was distraught – she knew him better than most people did. He was a very private person. I heard about Marlene," he swallows, "I should have been at the funeral."

"Sirius –"

"Whatever heart-warming, loving thing you're going to say, Lily, please don't. I'm sure you're right, whatever it is you were going to say but I was a prick and that's my fault and I don't want to hear anything different, okay?"

"Okay, fine, you're a prick."

"Thank you –"

"But a well-meaning prick."

Sirius grins at me despite himself.

"So what have you two been up to? How have you managed to survive living with this idiot, Lily?"

"Hey!" James says indignantly.

"He's not been that bad –"

"I'm right here."

"I mean there have been a few occasions when I felt like ripping my own hair out –"

"Understandable," Sirius takes a sip of his tea.

"Because you're such a joy to live with," James scowls at Sirius.

"I am amazing to live with, thank you very much. Who doesn't love waking up to see my handsome face in the mornings?"

"Good luck seeing the sunrise with his enormous head in the way, Lily."

"You're one to talk! At least I don't leave my socks everywhere around the house."

"Have you seen your room?"

"It's a contained mess."

"It's a pig sty!"

"Organised chaos, Prongs, it's an art form."

"Art form," James repeats scathingly, "I suppose rubbish tips are also works of art?"

"To those of us naturally blessed with an acute awareness of art –"

"You wouldn't know art if it hit you in the face."

"And you would?"

"Yes, actually, look at this piece of art right here," he takes my hand. "If this wonderful woman isn't art then nothing is."

"Urgh, I can't do this if you're going to be soppy and romantic about it. You're losing your touch, Prongs."

"You're just jealous Padfoot."

"Of what?"

"My ability to sustain a relationship."

"I don't need a relationship, Prongs. Love is an illusion and you need to know how to be alone and not be defined by another person."

"Now who's quoting Oscar Wilde?" James says smugly.

"It's the fumes," Sirius sighs dramatically. "Being in this house is infecting me with crazy fumes."

JAMES' P.O.V

THE NEXT DAY

EARLY EVENING

Dumbledore is in our house. He arrived about ten minutes ago with an interesting selection of barley sugars. Whilst his company is -for the most part- greatly entertaining, his presence is making me nervous. He's been beating around the bush for ten minutes now, chatting away to Lily and making Harry laugh, but he's on edge.

Just as I'm about to interrupt his anecdote of his trip to the highlands two years ago, he exhales deeply and finally comes out with it.

"You've probably guessed that I haven't come here to talk humorously about holidays. I regret that it has come to this but there is not much else that I can do. There is a prophecy – about Harry and Lord Voldemort, and I fear for your lives as well as his. I intend to put your location under the Fidelius charm and conceal you from him. I wouldn't advise leaving the house too regularly and discretion is of the upmost importance…"

He then goes on to explain what the Prophecy says, Secret Keepers, trust, Death Eaters – but most of it goes over my head. All I can think of is the fact that my son is in danger, my wife is in more danger than she has ever been in before and I am trapped in this cottage until the war goes away.

What about the others, the other Marauders? Padfoot is still here but what about Wormtail and Moony? What if I never see them again?

"How long have you known about the Prophecy?" Lily asks, her expression unreadable.

"Perhaps under a year."

"Why didn't you mention it before? Our son has the weight of the future of the Wizarding World on his shoulders! He's just a child…"

"I didn't know how much Lord Voldemort knew of the Prophecy or what he intended to do about it. I'm sure you can appreciate my need for secrecy – this isn't the sort of thing one ought to shout from the rooftops."

"How? How can this possibly be true?" she cradles Harry in her arms, dread etched into every line on her face, "There must be other children born in July –"

"But only two to parents who have thrice defied him – and Lord Voldemort has chosen Harry."

"You trust your source?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Voldemort is looking for us?"

"I believe so."

"Then we can't afford to waste time. I'll get Sirius –"

"Lily? What are you doing?" I ask, following her as she heads upstairs to where Sirius is taking a shower.

"We need a Secret Keeper, don't we?"

"Dumbledore offered…"

"Dumbledore's an obvious choice."

"Voldemort wouldn't dare get close enough to Dumbledore –"

"Well, fine then, you decide but we have to decide quickly. Our son is in danger and I'll be damned before I let that monster touch him."

"I'll talk to Sirius."