Title: Desperate Measures

Summary: Lily and James were meant for each other, but their friends come up with a (not so) diabolical plan to prove it to them.

A/N: 'Kay, all I know is that I actually have an idea for a fic (finally), and I would like your opinions/ideas/groans at pitiful jokes. So let me know!

"She's so gonna be Head Girl next year," said James.

"Already?" asked Sirius. "Every year on the start of term, you say the same thing-"

"Lily Evans is soooo hot," chorused Remus, Sirius, and Peter, ignoring the frightened stares and quickened paces of the dinky first years.

"Face it Prongs, you've got it baaaad," Sirius commented.

"Do you have to add extra vowel sounds?" Remus begged.

"But I'm sooo se-e-exy. I'm allowed to do it."

"Gah, no! Not already."

"It's a new record," Peter remarked.

"What, Prongs' lament or Sirius' sexiness?"

"Both, actually. Clocking in under three minutes after the train left the station."

"Wow," said James without really knowing what he was commenting on.

"I know! Can you believe that it took nearly three minutes before someone mentioned my good looks? Aargh!" Sirius exclaimed as he was bludgeoned with several notebooks. "Why are- "

"-you guys so abusive?" Lily Evans asked her friends Becky and Sarah, both of whom had just whapped her upside the head.

"Because you're in denial! Denial, I say!" cried Sarah.

"Denial is a river in Egypt," said Becky. "Get it? De-Nile? Nile? No? Okay then, guess I'd better, ya know, shut up now…"

Lily stared at her friend for a long moment before listing, "Okay, number one: You're weird. Number two: That may have been the dumbest joke I've ever heard. And number 3: I'm not in denial!"

"Or Egypt," muttered Becky.

"Lily, you so like Potter. So so so so-"

"So so so so SO!"

"-like him."

"But he doesn't like me, anyway, even if I did like him. Which," Lily added with a deadly glare, "I don't."

"Oh, puh-leeze. He totally flirts with you all the time. Constantly," said Becky.

"He's so annoying, though," Lily said. "And he flirts with anything that moves, not just me. I bet he'd ask out a rabbit."

"But, you know, if you ever really need a date…" sing-songed Sarah.

"I doubt I'll ever get that desperate. Besides, it wouldn't work. I," stated Lily, "am a prefect. And he's, he's a bloody marauder!"

"Nice language there, Miss Pristine Prefect."

"Shut up, Beck."