Lily Evans ducked out of the Great Hall, trying to bee as unnoticeable as possible while watching everyone around her. Thus far, she had managed to avoid him but she wasn't sure…

"Oy! Evans!"

…How long that would last.

Great.

Option one: pretend you didn't hear him. Option two: glance up, roll your eyes, and try to get away. Option three: stop and chat. Option four…

"Hey, Evans! Have you finished the transfiguration homework yet?"

She looked at him incredulously as he came up beside her. How did he ever get Head Boy?

"Duh," she replied smartly. "It's due today."

"After lunch," he smirked. Upon seeing her further annoyed and distressed, he continued. "I had important business to attend to last night."

He winked at her and she knew what he meant: Remus' furry little problem. But that didn't let him off the hook, nor did that make him any less annoying.

"Potter, McGonagall assigned that two weeks ago! Plus, we've been talking about it for a month! It's simple really. All you had to do was rearrange the notes from the lecture she gave last week."

"What notes?" James realized this wasn't the right response when Lily rolled her eyes, which she did again after he defended, "I've had things!" He really could be a prick at times. But sometimes…what was that feeling she got looking into his eyes?

"Hey, Lily? While you're all subdued and quiet, can I ask you something?"

Suddenly annoyed, she snapped, "What?" She headed towards their next class and a very hopeful James followed.

"Will you go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

She stopped dead and James had to slam on his breaks to avoid bumping into her. She spun on her heels and glared at him, her red-headed fury glowing in her eyes.

"James Henry Potter!"

"What?" he asked, clueless as usual, eyes darting from side to side before landing on the angry beauty in front of him.

"You have officially broken your record!"

He looked impressed with himself. "Really?" he asked, smirking at how cute she looked when she was murderous. "How so?"

She groaned. "You, Potter, have asked me out ten times this week—three to Hogsmeade, two for dinner in the Great Hall, and five for some broom closet or another!"

James furrowed his eyebrows. Ten seemed like a rather small number to him and he wasn't sure what irritated Lily most. He cocked his head and looked her directly in the eyes. "So?"

Exasperated, she shouted at him. "It's only Tuesday!"

Realization dawning on him, he nodded once and drew out the word, "Oh." He then lit up and asked excitedly, "So will you?"

She sighed and her head lolled to the side, looking sympathetically at James, worried about how pathetic he suddenly seemed.

"James," (she liked the way his name sounded on her tongue, as much as she hated to admit it), "do you realize that one definition of crazy is to do the same thing over and over and expect a different result?"

"Well," he said, clearly not understanding much of what she said, "Sometimes being crazy has its benefits."

Still looking at him full of pity, she asked, "So you admit that you're crazy?"

He nodded, then, slyly, replied, "Crazy about you."

"James that is probably the worst pick-up line on the face of the planet! Can't you do better?'

"Actually," he began, but stopped. "Did you just call me James?"

"Second time this conversation, if you don't count the time I used your full name."

He looked shocked, but merely nodded. Lily walked a good ten feet away before sighing in defeat with her back still turned to him.

"I'll meet you at ten in the common room Saturday morning."

He gazed at her as if she had grown an extra head. Finally he managed to stutter, "You mean…yes?"

"Yes," she breathed.

"Yes!"

She turned now and looked at him pleadingly. "But please, please don't where the antlers."

"Or the flashing lights, right?"

"Right," she confirmed, and she turned back. He knew he would do well with the chance she gave him. He wasn't crazy enough to screw this up.

Or maybe he was too crazy.