DISCLAIMER: J K Rowling owns all of this.

Professor McGonagall sat in her office, sipping on her piping hot tea. A tad of ginger, and a spoonful of sugar; that's what made it just right. The Victorian windows were wide open, and a gentle breeze was playing outside, that she found particularly comforting. Before her, sat a bundle of parchments, waiting to be corrected. Usually, she wouldn't have kept it pending for so long but for some reason, she felt like sipping her tea, and just relaxing.

Alas, it wasn't to be a very relaxing day, for there was a knock on her office door, and McGonagall had to open her eyes.

"Come in," she said after setting her tea aside, and putting the essays away.

A slender girl, with perhaps the most inquisitive eyes she had ever seen, stood before her.

"Miss. Evans?" she asked confusedly.

The girl before her, turned slightly pink before saying, as politely as possible, "I've been assigned a detention with you, Professor."

Sufficed to say, McGonagall was shocked. Contrary to popular belief, Lily Evans had had detentions before, but the occurrence was so rare, that McGonagall felt compelled to ask for a reason.

"I...I may have set Camilla's hair on fire," Lily replied softly.

"On fire?" asked the Professor calmly.

Lily nodded slightly, and suddenly became highly interested in her crudely painted red toenails.

Minerva McGonagall sighed. She was hardly in the mood to reprimand one of her favourite students, in fact she was in quite a jolly mood. She asked Lily to sit down, and pulled out a few sugar cookies from her desk and set it in front of the girl, before offering her one.

"May I ask why you set her hair on fire?" she asked after a moment.

Lily shifted nervously in her seat, and reddened again.

"She was helping someone with their potion."

"Well, Miss Evans, as far as I know, that's hardly a punishable offence."

"Well, he - I mean they, didn't need help."

"They told you that?"

"No, but...but it was a fairly simple potion."

"Miss Evans, not everyone has a natural prowess for Potions."

Lily blushed to the roots of her crimson hair and shook her head vigorously, as if trying to say that she didn't mean that at all.

"Miss Evans, you –"

"She's not even good at Potions," yelled Lily exasperatedly.

McGonagall simply raised her eyebrow slightly.

Lily buried her head in her hands, and groaned almost silently.

"I still don't see a compelling reason to burn someone's hair," said McGonagall after Lily decided to remain silent.

"She kept helping, and he - they didn't want it, it was clear she was flir-she was acting highly improper. Disgusting behaviour for school. I thought I should ...uh..punish her. That's all," finished Lily lamely.

McGonagall picked up a sugar biscuit and bit into it, looking into the emerald eyes of the girl before her.

"Miss Evans, if Miss Davies was helping someone else, would you have done the same thing?"

Lily Evans, the smartest witch of her age, looked like someone had turned on a lightbulb in her brain. A look of realization dawned upon her pretty face. She covered her face with her hands once more, and shook her head pathetically.

"Oh no, no, no. I swore I wouldn't fall for this. I can't. It's ridiculous. Preposterous. Absurd. Ludicrous. Farcical. Nonsensical. Senseless. Outrageous. Risible. La -"

"I think you've made yourself quite clear," interrupted the Professor.

"Everyone else has. I promised myself I'd be different, I'd not let it happen to me. Not me, not me. I hated the idiot. Well, I didn't. I was supposed to. But I was so good. How could I let it get to me? How could I possibly...Oh god, this is terrible."

"Terrible?" asked McGonagall carefully.

Lily Evans didn't seem to hear this.

"Miss Evans, there's a fine line between love and hate," said the Professor loudly.

Lily looked up at her Professor and stared at her for a while.

"Sometimes there are somethings we can't help. It's….as they say, up to destiny."

Lily looked shocked as her Professor (who never let them believe anything was up to fate, and absolutely loathed Divination) spoke about destiny.

"There are people we love to hate. And then there are people we hate to love. You must decide between the two," the Transfiguration teacher finished triumphantly.

Lily tucked one loose strand of hair behind her ear, and closed her eyes, contemplating what she had just heard. When she opened them, there was a grin etched on her face, that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remove.

Professor McGonagall stood up and said plainly, "You may leave now."

Lily glanced at the large clock hung on the wall, and grinned even wider when she realized she had barely spent ten minutes in the room, and her detention was over.

Professor McGonagall, sensing her groundless happiness, said clearly, "Miss. Evans, your detention will be tomorrow at eight, in the trophy room."

The grin from Lily's face faded as she thought about the numerous awards and medals stored in the room, courtesy of the idiot and many others. It was soon replaced by an expression that was a strange mixture of pleasure, delight, and nervousness.

Lily made her way out of the office, and muttered a small thanks at the door. McGonagall sighed as she noted the door had been left open, and got up to close it. She looked at the retreating figure of the girl running towards the staircase, her little skirt flying behind her. She glanced at her watch and called, "Miss Evans!"

The girl turned, the long mane of dark red hair whipping around, as she raced back towards the office.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Mr Potter is on the quidditch field."

Lily's eyes widened in shock, and she let out a small gasp, blushing for the umpteenth time that day. Then, her shock turned into delight, as she let out a soft giggle, and went off in the opposite direction.

"Oh, and Miss Evans?"

The girl stopped once more and turned.

"I think you owe Miss Davies an apology. It's hardly becoming of a woman to set another's hair on fire," said McGonagall matter of factly.

"Whatever may be the reason," she added with a close lipped smile.

Lily sounded slightly embarrassed as she said, "Yes Professor."

Then, she turned, her hair flying behind her, as she ran towards the quidditch pitch, giddy, thought Minerva, with joy; drunk in love.

A/N: Thinking of doing a collection of one shots with McGonagall and what better way to start than with Jily? If you have any couple in mind, which is canon, or possible canon, I would love to know, because I need ideas. Please tell me what you want. Requests and prompts are accepted and welcomed.

Next is Katie and Oliver, because I'm suddenly very obsessed with them. Reviews will be hugely hugely appreciated.