Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sadly.

She supposed she really should have known. Petunia had never responded to her invitation. And still, Lily had planned every detail of this wedding meticulously, made it as normal as possible, in the vain attempt Petunia would decide to show at the last minute.

She placed her head in her hands as her breath hitched. She refused to cry on her own wedding day. It was bad enough that she had holed herself up in the reception hall bathroom. Nonetheless, she wasn't surprised to find that in a matter of moments, her hands were wet.

Against her will, she thought back to that horrid moment, coming out arm in arm with James, scanning the room, not daring to admit who it was she was looking for. And then there it was, the moment she knew. She'd locked eyes with her mother, who looked to her sadly. It had been all she could do not to dissolve into tears on the spot.

Because really, she had hoped that Petunia would put aside her anger for one day. This one day, her own sister's wedding day. Hadn't they used to dream of someday being each other's maids of honor as children? And now what? Petunia couldn't even be bothered to attend her own sister's wedding?

And Lily had thought the worst of it had been when Petunia had refused her the role of bridesmaid in her wedding.

But hell, at least Lily had shown up.

She took a deep breath and slowly looked up from her hands. She stole a glance at herself in the mirror. She looked pale and tear-soaked and sad. Not exactly the ideal blushing bride.

There was a small knock on the door, startling her out of her thoughts. "Lily?"

"James?" She managed to somehow squeak back. Trying to speak almost brought on a fresh onslaught of tears.

He opened the door, slowly, his hazel eyes filled with concern. "Love, why are y…"
But she cut him off. With a deep breath, she started, "She didn't…"

He didn't let her finish before he pulled her into his arms. "I know," he said softly, "I know."

She heard rather than felt a sob escape her, and she gripped him tighter. She buried his face in his chest, aware that she was getting makeup all over him but not particularly caring.

His hand moved up to rub her back, and he said softly, "Listen, love. It's going to be alright." He pulled back, moved his hand to lift her chin, their eyes met. "All that matters today is us. You and I. We're here, together. And together, we're going to fix what went wrong with your sister…" and here he broke out into a grin, "…tomorrow."

She laughed, she couldn't help it. And as always, James' presence greatly loosened the knot that had formed in her stomach.

He cleared his throat. "Well, maybe not tomorrow. Tomorrow is. Well," he raised his eyebrows suggestively at her, "The honeymoon."

She pretended to look scandalized, placed a hand on chest and took a step back.

"Only kidding, love." He told her. He paused, and then said in a deeper voice, "Not really, though."

She laughed, but then put on her best Professor McGonagall face. Sternly, she told him, "Speaking of which, James, this is the girl's lavatory."

"So?"

"So," she continued, "you shouldn't be here!"

He snorted. "Lily, have you forgotten who I am?" his eyes twinkled. "I'm James Potter. Second year, I even…"

And as the memory gripped Lily, she laughed so hard, she felt her ribs start to ache. "James! No girl wants to go into the lavatory to find all the toilets explode when she tries to go into a stall."

He frowned thoughtfully. "They were supposed to turn into fountains when you entered, but you know. Second year, my transfiguration wasn't quite there yet." He watched as she continued to laugh, and then continued, "I rather thought the, 'Lily, will you be my Valentine?' spelt out on the wall in toilet paper would make up for it."

She took a deep breath, trying to control her laughter, and when she looked back to her groom she seemed more under control.

"Seriously though, James. There are certain umm," she paused for a moment to clear her throat. "Faux pas about muggle couples in bathrooms on their wedding days."

He looked at her curiously. "Like what?"

She cleared her throat. "More of a cliché, then anything. It just umm. You know, they imagine that the couples are going to…"

He grinned wickedly as he caught on. "Ahh. Well, they don't necessarily have to be wrong…"

She smacked him on the arm. "James!"

He laughed and rubbed his arm. "Well, Padfoot would have been furious if I didn't at least try." He took a moment to look her in the eye, and she realized he was still a bit concerned.

She flashed him a smile. "I'm okay, James, I really am." And she meant it. She believed him when he said they would work this out together. And right then, she was just content to know she had landed, quite frankly, one hell of a bloke.

He seemed relieved. "Alright then, Evans?" He teased, grinning at her crookedly.

"Just fine, Potter." She shoved him back, and he laughed good-naturedly, before slipping an arm around her shoulders. He led her own of the restroom.

"It might be nice if you didn't say your own name like a swear word," he said gently, "Potter." He leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

And as he said it, she felt a grin blossoming across her face. The name had never sounded quite as sweet as it did just then.