A/N: I seem to be in the mood for angst. I'm not sure if this chapter will be extended into more…I feel like it might just so I can explain things a little more clearly. This is AU of course. Please read and review. I appreciate constructive criticism too; it makes me better as a writer.

Albus strolled over to Minerva and took her hand, giving the back of it a gentle brush with his lips. She turned from her pensive, occupied stance staring out the window to smile lightly at him.

"Hello, my dear. Happy about everything?"

Minerva's eyes sparkled. "Completely happy," she said, her voice smooth and so sweet.

"Dance with me, darling?"

As Minerva looked into his tender, shining eyes, she suddenly was seized with an unexplainable remorse. Her eyes became glassy as she stared over into the distance, the sound of the Hogwarts' student body chatter blocking out her husband's voice.

"Minerva?

"Yes?" she asked softly.

"Where are you?"

"I'm here…" Minerva's voice trailed away and Albus gazed confusedly into her distant eyes.

"But you look miles away! Come back, won't you?"

She lost her hypnotic look and brought her eyes back to Albus'. He was looking at her worriedly, and she tried to quell her tears as her green eyes met his blue.

"I'm here, darling." She smiled at him warmly now and took his larger hand in hers. "I was… just thinking… I have to tell you something."

"Now?" Albus asked, twining his fingers between hers.

"Yes, Albus. Now. Let's go outside shall we? It-it's a bit hot in here."

"Oh yes. Of course."

Albus took Minerva's arm and glided outside to the balcony with her.

Minerva breathed in the heavy scent of honeysuckle in the air and, for the first time, felt it constricting her air supply even more. Albus looked so dear to her: his smile was just as charming as it was forty years ago, and his blue eyes had not lost its twinkle.

He was looking at her devotedly, and grinning brightly at her. She attempted to smile back weakly at him, but her eyes had clouded with sadness.

"Happy Anniversary, Minerva. You look as lovely as always. We'll spend every day together and I will tell you this every day."

"Albus…"

"Hmm?" Albus had enveloped her in his arms and was nuzzling her neck gently.

"Are you…happy here in Bristol?"

"Of course. I'll be happy wherever I am with you. I'll go wherever you go. I belong to you."

Minerva cleared her throat nervously and felt it hitch. She inwardly chastised herself: now was no time for weakness on her part.

"I'm glad, Albus. Because I could never imagine being anywhere without you. There was another thing…"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think we could go back to Scotland for the autumn?"

"Sure, if that's what you want. I'm just the devoted husband carrying my dear wife's luggage."

Albus twinkled at her and pecked her cheek.

"Yes…" Minerva said sadly. "I'd love to be home for the autumn."

Albus straightened up and met Minerva's gaze on his face.

"And may I ask, just out of curiosity, why it is important to be home for the autumn, Mrs. Dumbledore?"

Minerva couldn't reply for a moment. Then she took a deep breath and touched her husband's cheek lightly with her long fingers.

"Because…next to spring, it's the loveliest time of the year. And…"

Minerva bit the inside of her cheek and moved her hand to clutch tightly at Albus'.

"I won't be here for the spring."

It seemed an eternity as she locked her gentle eyes on her husband's and waited for him to reply. She took a deep breath and felt his hand tremble slightly under hers. He tightened his grip on her hand and moved closer to her.

"Wh-what does that mean…exactly?" Albus asked carefully. In his heart, he was afraid to hear the truth…the horrible truth.

"My darling…my darling husband," Minerva whispered tenderly.

Somehow, those three endearing words, spoken so softly, told Albus that, by some terrible stroke of fate, Minerva was not to be with him for all eternity.

"I am dying, Albus," Minerva said clearly.

"Dying…" Albus echoed listlessly.

How could this be possible? Minerva was so full of life, of love, of everything good. She had such a promising future ahead of her. She was the epitome of youth and beauty…and yet…"

"One more dance, Al?"

Albus barely registered the use of her nickname for him as he felt his hand taken in hers as she led, for the first time, their dance. Their last dance.

The music that she had wordlessly cast was their favorite Chopin nocturne. The slow, uplifting music stirred in the depths of Albus' heart memories of their first dance together. Strange, Albus thought, how music seemed to bridge everything.

As he felt his feet moving effortlessly under her graceful lead, Albus felt his chest tightening as tears he had long held inside him threatened to burst out.

It was unfair that she had to be the one suffering so. If he could, Albus would gladly trade places with her. He saw her shining eyes, still with the sparkle of youth undiminished in them, gazing lovingly at him. Saw them, but did not register them. When the last chords of music faded, he rested his forehead against hers.

Minerva's head was bowed and at his touch, she raised her head to lean gently into the hollow of his neck. She pressed a soft kiss into his pulse point and whispered soft endearments to him.

"You know, Albus, we have so many memories to cherish. But above all, we have one of the rarest, and most precious things of all."

"What would that be, love?"

"Our perfect marriage," she murmured.

/-/-/

The darkness of the room seemed to choke Albus. He struggled to breathe and as he exhaled deeply on a long breath, he heard Minerva stir slightly in bed. Minerva turned sleepily on her side of the bed and felt the absence of the warmth of her husband. Opening her eyes blearily, she noted the long dark shadow that her husband's figure cast against the moonlit night. He seemed lost in thought. Minerva watched him for a couple of beats and then softly called his name.

"Albus?"

He glanced at her and quickly looked away. The dark shadows hid much of his expression, for which he was grateful. As Minerva gingerly dressed in a dressing gown and walked up behind him, she touched his shoulder lightly. He stiffened under her touch and turned more around to gaze into her eyes.

He suddenly cracked and threw his arms around her, his body shuddering with silent sobs. Her arms came around him just as tightly and he breathed in her sleepy, lavender scent.

"I-I won't let it happen, Minerva. I promise…" Albus' voice cracked and he drew away just enough to look earnestly into her eyes. "We'll find something…anything…magic can heal anything. We'll travel to the ends of the earth to find a cure…"

"Shhh," Minerva soothed him, as though he were her child.

"Albus, I've had the best life I could ever hope for. I got to know you: a brilliant, brilliant wizard whose love and respect I will forever hold in my heart. You have made me who I am, and I will always love you. Even when we are apart… But darling…not even magic can halt death. You must know that."

"I'll never accept it. Never!" Albus' tears wetted Minerva's cheek and soaked the shoulder of her dressing gown. "We'll find the best…"

"But I have seen the best. The very best, Albus."

"But there must be something… something we can do!"

"There isn't…my dearest. There is nothing anyone can do. I didn't tell you until I knew…for sure. You know," Minerva attempted to smile. "It was during the Wizarding Wars…one had to be pretty tough for that. Now I…wasn't quite tough enough." Minerva stroked Albus' hair and pressed small kisses along his jaw. Her cool lips pressed once more to his lips.

"Now, Albus, you must be strong. For my sake. For you know that death is not to be feared if it is seen as another great life's journey."

"You do know now, don't you?" Albus said brokenly. "You know…how much… h-how much I loved you."

And with that, Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard alive, felt his world shatter as he held on tightly to Minerva, feeling that she was the only real thing in the world.

"Shh," Minerva whispered. "I know, darling… I know."

/-/-/

Two months later, Albus was a greatly changed man. His eyes had lost their twinkle and his lips rarely smiled. Upon his demand, a portrait of Minerva, dressed in the emerald silk gown that she had worn when they first danced, was hung directly across from his office.

Albus wearily signed the last Ministry letter and leaned forward to gaze into Minerva's peaceful profile. She was not sleeping, as were the other portraits; she had been silently waiting for him to finish his work.

"Do not look so sad, Albus. I am still here…if only in spirit."

Albus heaved a sigh. He walked closer until he was only a foot away from her portrait.

"But the very fact that you are only here in spirit has left me quite spiritless," Albus murmured.

"But I will always be here, Albus, whether you know it or not. I am the wind that travels down the hills; I am the sunshine, and the rain."

"You are always so poetic, Minerva…"

"I suppose I got it from you," she replied with a gentle light illuminating her eyes.

"But I never got to say what I am about to say to you now, Minerva."

Minerva gazed steadily into Albus' eyes.

"What is it, Albus?"

"Goodbye, Minerva. Goodbye, my love, my friend, my pain…and my joy. Goodbye."