Pigs May Fly
"Evans! Hey, Evans!"
James Potter stumbled up the stairs, chasing after his beloved red head.
She finally whirled around, and snapped, "What is it, Potter?"
James broke into another cocky grin as his hand went to ruffle his hair, "Go out with me, Evans?"
Lily wanted to scream. She seriously did. After seven years, he had never stopped chasing her.
So she did the only thing she could do.
"Alright, Potter. I'll go out with you."
The world stopped spinning. It fell off its axis. The poles reversed. Pigs flew. Hell froze over.
Lily Evans just said yes.
"Are you joking?" James asked in a voice that only shook a bit. "Are you feeling ill? Do you need me to accompany you to the hospital wing?"
"No, I'm quite alright, actually," Lily said, watching James warily.
"No, it's just… you said yes to me… are you sure you're alright?"
"Potter, I'm quite positive."
"I think you're sick." James said with absolute certainty.
"Potter, I can assure you that I am not sick, but I might be soon. You're making me sick."
"There's only one explanation for this. I'm dreaming. Sooner or later Sirius and Remus will be dressed in dominatrix outfits. You just watch, Evans. Trust me."
Lily Evan shook her head. "Never mind then, Potter. Try again later."
James had trouble processing what was happening.
"Evans? Evans? Hey, Evans, wait up- I didn't mean it!"