Gwen did not appreciate where she was, and within ten minutes of the so-called meeting, she made sure this was a well-known fact by everyone around the table.

From what she had gathered, the Order of the Phoenix was a secret society that had been formed by Albus Dumbledore in order to combat against Lord Voldemort and his fanbase. Gwen was still a bit lost on that whole front, admittedly—she'd heard of this Voldemort bloke, of course, but she had no idea what a Death Eater was, or why Voldemort fancied killing people so much, or if Gwen herself was being targeted due to her blood status. From what she understood, though, the answer to at least the last question was yes, very much so.

Another thing she understood—which actually lessened her nerves a bit—was that this was not the entirety of the Order, which she had been thinking originally. It had begun to look quite meek and very much like they could easily fall to this Voldemort fellow, before the gruff man—Alastor Moody—had explained that most of their aurors were still in business and couldn't get away from the Ministry.

"So, my father was apart of... this?" Gwen whispered, as a Kingsley Shacklebolt reconvened at the head of the table.

Lily hummed confirmation. "It's quite a successful secret organisation, so far. Nobody knows about it except those directly involved. As for your father..."

     Peter picked up where Lily had trailed off. "Ted's told me once that Haz was their most proactive member. He had Order of Merlin, Second Class. He was brilliant, Gwen."

     A bitter taste entered her mouth. "Thanks, I know."

     Kingsley's voice picked up as Peter sunk deeply into his seat, embarrassed: "...and that's where you lot come into play."

     Suddenly, all eyes were on Gwen and the rest of the Hogwarts students at the other end of the table. They all froze in their spots, and it was clear that none of them had been even trying to listen to what Shacklebolt had been saying.

     "They're expecting an attack on Hogwarts," James explained to the rest of them, having been the only person younger than twenty listening. "They want us to be the primary defence."

     "Yeah, right," snorted Sirius, whose wand was tied up in his hair and held it into a bun. "Pete here can barely cast a Disarming right."

     "You're one to talk," said Remus, pointedly. "What exactly did you get on your Defence exam last term?"

     Sirius's cheeks turned a light shade of red, and he scowled at Remus. "Well, did better than Lily—"

     "Oh please," scoffed the girl in question, looking quite offended. "Just because practical exams aren't my strong suit doesn't mean I'm not good at defending myself!"

     "Right," said James innocently, "and Merlin knows Mary could do with some help on the practicality bit, too."

     "Hey!" argued Mary, leaning forward in her seat, having tried to avoid getting involved by staying out of eyesight. "I skived off one class this term, that's all. And I'm loads better at defence than Peter is at offence, anyway!"

     Beneath the chatter, Gwen leaned to Remus, lowering her voice. "Is this what all meetings are like?"

     He nodded, quite seriously. "They go on for a bit until Mad-eye rams in and tells them to shove it. Molly practically loses her mind once James brings in Sirius's family—"

     "—like your mum, Black!"

     Remus's lips formed a pleased smile. "There it is."

     Gwen stifled a laugh. "Is that not cruel? Sirius doesn't care?"

     "He's gotten over himself," was all Remus replied, lifting a shoulder. "Nowadays he's all about defeating his own family. He's gone past all the sadness of it, now it's just anger. Good for him," he added, twisting his lips. "He can use it, if we really do end up being the first line of defence on this attack."

     Gwen felt herself pale at the thought. "They can't seriously expect a bunch of kids to do any good."

     Again, Remus shrugged. "We've been pretty valuable, actually. Lily's the best Potionmaker around, and Marlene's their greatest wandsman so far."

    "Really?" said Gwen, uncertainly eyeing the giant at the other end of the table.

     Remus followed her eyes and laughed to himself. "Oh like Hagrid could hurt a fly. He got his wand confiscated years ago, anyway. I'm serious; Marlene is the best. And I'm sure you've got some sort of secret talent you've been hiding away that they'll find useful—Actually, I've seen you work a Nonverbal, Gwen. You're better at it than Benjy Fenwick, even."

     "You think?" she said, meekly, though she had no clue who this Benjy fellow was. "Thanks, Remus."

     He went to reply, but when he opened his mouth, no noise came from it—and the rest of the table had fallen entirely silent, too. At least, the end with all the kids.

     "That's enough from you lot," said Mad-eye, lowering his wand. "Only letting up on that once you all come to terms with the fact that you're our best chances with this."

"Obviously," added Shacklebolt, "the rest of us will be there, sooner or later. Dumbledore will send a Patronus our way and of course we'll be on-call. It won't all be on you."

"Though most of it will be," said Mad-eye crudely. "If you can pull yourselves together in time. You'll be our first line of defence."

Looking quite unamused, Gwen raised her hand.

Moody glared her way with his nonmagical eye and waved his wand once, letting up on the Silencing spell. "Graham."

"No," she said simply.

The giant called Hagrid coughed, surprised. A confused hum came from Molly, and Arthur Weasley frowned at Gwen. Moody looked like he was about to strangle her.

"No?" he repeated, venomously.

"I don't want to do this," she continued, leaning forward in her chair, spreading her hands across the table. She spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child. "I will not be involved in this. I won't die fighting the same fight my father did."

Nobody responded. She could practically feel her fellows at the young-end of the table straining against the Silencing spell, but none of the adults moved to lift it. Even the Prewett twins had set their wands down on the table and looked to Moody for their next course of action.

"Gwen," said Ted Tonks, cautiously, also leaning forward in his chair, "you should think about—"

     "I don't want to," she said, flatly. "I don't want any part in this war. I'd rather take my chances as a Muggle than fight beneath Dumbledore."

     And she left the meeting without another word.

     Behind her, she caught the sounds of a slight kerfuffle from inside the dining room, chairs scraping and a heated one-side conversation, before the door swung open again and James was at her heels, following her fervently into what must've been the drawing room.

     "Gwen," he said, practically pleaded, and tried to grab her elbow to stop her from leaving. "Gwen, listen—"

     "Stop, James," she said without facing him, instead putting her attention into searching around the fireplace for a jar of Floo Powder. It had to be there somewhere, right? "I'm leaving, once I find this damn Floo Powder—"

     "You can't go," he said, desperately. "C'mon, listen to me—"

     "Don't tell me what I can't do. Where is the bloody—?"

     "Gwen, stop." He caught her hand and whirled the pair of them around so he blocked the fireplace. "Don't go. Please."

     "I don't want any part of this," she repeated from earlier, though she made no move to escape his grasp. "Let me leave, Potter."

     "I will not," he said firmly, and he planted his feet in place. "I will Stick myself to this spot if it blocks you from leaving for the next two minutes, because that's all I need. Just hear me out for two more minutes. Please."

     She clenched her jaw, once more finding herself falling victim to James's unending stubbornness. "Fine."

     He broke into a smile. "Good. Look, Gwen, the truth is: We need you here. Ever since they heard about what you did to Snape, they've been begging all of us to get you to join, to convince you to be a member. They think you're a bloody legend, and I agree with them, Gwen—you are. I've seen you fight. Admittedly, it was against Sirius, but still. You can fight. You can defend, you can cast Nonverbals like it's nobody's business. Honestly, you're the most brilliant witch of our time. Okay? It'd be a damn shame if you turn this down. We need you."

     She regarded him for a second after he finished his hero's monologue, eyes scanning his face—the face she'd seen close-up plenty of times, enough to memorize every little feature. Still, Gwen had never seen this James before; he looked like an entirely new person. It was as though he'd born to fight this war. There was a hard glint in his eyes and a tug in Gwen's gut at the sight.

She loved his eyes.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed suddenly, jerking her hand back. She tugged his ring off her finger and it fell to the floor; she hardly noticed, instead shaking her hand and wincing. "Merlin, what did you do to that blasted thing?"

He was watching the ring entirely, gaze transfixed. "Did it... burn you?"

She scowled. "Yes, it did."

He frowned thoughtfully. "How interesting."

"Why?" she asked, massaging the burn mark, glaring at him half-heartedly. "What did you do to it, James?"

His lips twitched. "Enchanted it. It glows whenever... when you love me." He looked up from the floor, cheekily, then back down to the ring, and knelt to pick it up. "Brighter it is, the more love you're feeling."

"That's absurd," she said, passively, still fingering her burn mark. "Why'd it sting me, then?"

James looked up at her from the ground, smiling rather cheekily still. "'Cause... you love me too much for it to glow anymore." He picked up the ring, and Gwen was struck with a realization as to what he was getting at—

"No," she said, quickly, shaking her head. "James, get up, what on earth are you doing—?"

But he only smiled up at her, and he held out the ring, still on the one knee. "I think you know."

She was suddenly overcome with the sudden urge to laugh. "James, this is ridiculous. Stand up, would you? You don't really mean to—"

"Oh I mean to." He raised his eyebrows up at her, and held the ring out further still, a knowing look in his eyes. "C'mon Gwenny-Goo. Marry me, for the hell of it?"

"Fuck's sake," laughed Gwen, completely astonished and almost entirely lost for words. "Are you mad?"

"You're the mad one," he said, scoffing. "Breaking up with me. I tried to tell you it wouldn't last, didn't I?" He grinned again, and waved the ring under her nose, as though tempting her. "Come on, love. My knee's starting to hurt."

"Then get off it," she said, pulling him up by the arm—then she hit him on the very same arm. ""You're mental, you git. You don't really mean this, do you? Getting married?"

He shrugged, thoughtfully. "You're of age, I'm of age, we're both mad about each other, and this ring isn't getting any brighter. I think all signs point to yes, I do mean it. Now say you mean it, too, and let's get on with it!"

She laughed again, shaking her head in pure disbelief. "We're children, James."

     "That won't last."

     "There's a war going on."

     "Also won't last."

     "I broke up with you."

     He grinned again. "Do I have to say it again?"

     Gwen shook her head again, beaming at him, unable to hide her smile. This was ridiculous, she thought to herself. I cannot marry James Potter because....

Then she blinked.

There were no reasons she could not marry James Potter. There were more things, she found, that proved she should say yes—she loved him more than life itself, they were clearly made for each other, and he wouldn't leave it alone until she said yes, anyway.

"If I say yes," she said at last, slowly, "we can't actually have a wedding until after school, you know. And I wouldn't want kids right out of Hogwarts. Though I do want kids, and I think you should be aware of that. I want children. Loads of them."

He only grinned down at her. "Alright. That supposed to scare me away? I want kids, too. More chances for another me to exist, anyway!"

Gwen blanched. "Maybe I don't want children after all."

James laughed, nudging her shoulder. "I have no worries about this, Gwen. I love you. All of you. I want to be with you forever. I want to die with you, once we grow old and grey and you can't stand me anymore. I want a life with you, Gwen, and we've already wasted loads of time being 'broken up.' Come on, love. Let's make it official."

Gwen, though trying to keep a straight face as she mused on his proposal, slowly melted into a smile. She shook her head slightly, in complete and utter disbelief of it all. "I already can't stand you," she said, quietly, ignoring the lump growing in her throat. "No need for us to grow old in order for that to happen."

James beamed down at her, his excitement practically pulsating off of him. "Is that a yes, Gwen?"

"Maybe so."

"No," he said, firmly, taking the ring dead out of her reach. "I need to hear it, then."

She laughed at his impertinence, though the smile did not once waver from her face as she tried to glare up at him. "Yes, James. I will marry you, you insane bastard."

     In an instant, her feet were off the ground, and he was spinning her around, his grip tight around her waist and nearly cutting off her breath supply—but she had never felt more alive than when she was with James, and she couldn't ignore the pure merriment that had overtaken her when she was near him.

     "I love you," she told him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, as her feet hit the ground again. "Remember?"

     James kissed her, gentle and kind and without any sort of burden. He kissed her like he had plenty of time left to do so, and he intended to use up every last bit of it in her arms. "Darling, I could never forget it."

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hii gwames married era idk they're young and dumb and engaged now and Lord Knows They Dont Have Much Time