"Hello?" Lily mumbles into her phone without even bothering to open her eyes.
"Oh bugger. Were you sleeping? You were probably sleeping. I'm sorry. I should hang up."
It takes Lily a few seconds to recognise who the scratchy, rambling voice belongs in her half incoherent state.
"James!" Lily shot up and sat straight in her bad, the blankets falling to her lap. She dragged a hand through her hair trying to untangle the knots. She then mentally scolded herself. It's not like he can see you.
James continued as if she hadn't interrupted her.
"Actually, I'm not sorry. What kind of person sleeps at nine? Old-"
"James."
"-ladies and babies, that's who."
"James."
"Anyway, I should let you go back to your beauty sleep." And then he added under his breath. "Not that you need it."
A click could be heard signalling the end of the call. Lily sighed and called him back.
"Are you ready to talk like a normal person?" Lily asked as he picked up the phone.
"Maybe."
"Now why did you call me?"
"You know how we were talking the other day? About what kind of person we want to marry?"
"Yeah?" That is not the sound of her heart racing. It's just McGonagall tap dancing upstairs.
"And how you said more than just a date, he'd have to be a mate?"
"Yeah?" Oh look, Dumbledore's joined her.
"Wanna go out w-with me, Evans?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah?"
"Yes," she says with an air of finality.
"Good, I'll pick you up at eight."
That is not the sound of her screaming into her pillows.
.
The next morning, Lily's doorbell rings at eight.
Lily trudged over in her pajamas and opens the door. James was standing there, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.
"Are you not ready? I said eight."
"In the morning? Impatient much, Potter?"
"Been waiting years."