They were always tiptoeing around each other, as though afraid of lingering loving glances that could be noticed, or endearments that admitted more than they wished to say. To the Wizarding World, they were the greatest friends (and the Greatest Witch and Wizard of the Century). No one ever realized that they were in love Minerva McGonagall carefully avoided Albus Dumbledore, afraid that he'd painfully reject her if she ever asked, as like the remainder of the Wizarding World, she believed him to be gay. And he avoided her, to at least be sure of her wonderful friendship. If it wasn't for the fact of their age difference, and because of their jobs, he might have had the courage to ask her. And so they remained friends for eternities, until of course one left the other.

But before the painful separation, the nights of isolation and loneliness, the days where he was gone and the world reflected it, it was just them: Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore. Friendly looks of understanding revealed inner wistfulness, the amount of respect and dedication to each other screamed their love, the terms of endearment so casually spoken yet meant to be taken literally. But the furthest they got was friends till the end.

And yet… There were moments of subconscious understanding between the two. There were moments in which there their souls felt the others love, and where love between one another seemed hopeful. And those, those were the moments in which they truly felt alive.

Haven't written in a while, but I would appreciate a review or two. I do not own Harry Potter or MMAD. Inspiration was the Battlestar Galactica: Roslin and Adama soundtrack (which I also don't own).