A/N: Okay, so when I was younger, before I found out Dumbledore was gay, I always imagined him and Professor McGonagall together...

Professor McGonagall stopped in front of the massive stone gargoyle. It was a rather ugly thing; she had always told Albus that a portrait would make a much more tasteful entrance to his office.

"Password?" It grunted at her.

"Fizzing Whizbee," she replied haughtily. The great stone beast moved aside, and she hurried up the staircase, being careful to keep her hat in place atop her prim bun.

McGonagall knocked once on the stately door, and was bade entrance almost immediately.

"Enter," Albus called as the door swung open.

"Ah, good evening, Minerva," he said, his blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "I take it young Mr. Potter is settling into Hogwarts well?"

"I should think so, Albus; I caught him flying against Madam Hooch's rules during the first-year's flying lessons today." Her stern tone became one of awe as she continued. "Albus, the boy caught a rembrall from fifty feet in the air!"

Dumbledore smiled. "He certainly is James Potter's son." His tone became inquisitive, and he asked, "How has Severus taken to him?"

"He swears the boy is ignorant, disrespectful, and generally pigheaded." Her lips twitched, and a small smile broke through.

"How impressive that Severus was able to form this analysis barely a week into the term."

"Indeed," McGonagall added with a chuckle.

"Lemon drop?" Albus held out a small tin, and Minerva gingerly reached out and took one.

She popped it into her mouth tentatively, and then inclined her head toward Albus after a few seconds.

"These aren't half bad," she said. They were curiously tart, and had a refreshing sweetness to them.

"I've been telling you that for years. Anyway, what is your opinion of Harry?" He asked.

"I find him to be...somewhat shy; more like Lily than his father." She said thoughtfully. "He doesn't seem the troublemaker that James was."

"Interesting," Albus replied.

A loud blast of music shook the office, rattling the numerous objects lying on the headmaster's desk.

"What was that?" Minerva asked, alarmed.

"I believe Professor Flitwick is attempting to repair a rather old phonograph that Peeves dropped over the grand staircase earlier this afternoon." Albus explained, his expression bemused.

"Peeves," she replied, the name sounding more like a curse.

The music overhead quieted a few decibels, and became a rather gentle waltz.

Albus drummed his fingers along the top of his desk, humming the tune. After a moment, he smiled at McGonagall.

"My dear Minerva, would you care to dance?" He stood up and held out a long-fingered hand to her.

She looked up at him quizzically, but placed her hand on his and stood up.

He placed one hand on her waist grandly, and she chuckled.

They began to sway gently back and forth, rotating very slowly. Minerva saw one of the portraits smirking, and another pretending to sleep, his exaggerated snores spoiling the charade.

After what seemed only a few minutes, the waltz ended, and an empty silence permeated the office. Minerva felt a small twitch of disappointment; she had enjoyed the dance very much.

"It seems Filius has worked his magic once again," he smiled gently, his blue eyes twinkling at her.

"Indeed."

"And now, I fear, it is time for me to retire." He lifted one of Minerva's hands to his lips and kissed it softly.

"Thank you for a wonderful dance, Minerva."

She smiled in return and paused as she walked through the door.

"Good night, Albus."

"Good night." He replied, and his eyes shone, making him look twenty years younger in the candlelight.

A/N: I forgot these... well, better late than never ;)

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing in the Harry Potter universe. If I did, Snape would have lived ;)

Also, this is set during Sorcerer's Stone, in case anyone was wondering.

Thanks for reading!

LL