Minerva McGonagall gave her husband the occasional furtive glance as they shared an intimate dinner in their chambers. The war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been escalating at an alarming rate, and she had seen the stress take its toll on Albus. The man she had known and loved for so many years; the man who was, in her eyes, the perfect balance of silly and serious, whimsy and wisdom, had morphed into a man of frequent, heavy sighs and enormous secrets.

Albus was too restless to eat, could not keep his eyes off his bride. She was so very lovely. The gray in her hair and the lines set deep in her face only served to remind him of their many years together. What should he say to her? The less she knew of his plans, the safer she would be. But she knew that he was keeping things from her; he saw the hurt in her eyes. The thought that he was the cause of such pain was unbearable to him. He decided that he could not leave for the caves tonight without telling her just enough to reassure her that he loved her.

But before Albus could come to a decision about what to say, how to phrase his words, Minerva set down her fork and leaned back in her chair. Albus straightened, recognizing immediately her tacit signal that it was time to have a serious talk.

"You are leaving the castle again tonight." She stated simply, opening the door for the conversation they had put off for too long.

"Yes. And…I am taking Harry with me." Minerva nodded, correctly inferring that Harry's presence meant that Albus anticipated both success and danger.

"You are confident that your mission tonight will alter the course of this war?" Her question was vague, but she knew that she was pushing the limits of what he was willing to tell her.

"If tonight goes as planned, the results will be…" Dumbledore swallowed, chose his words carefully, "for the greater good."

Immediately, Minerva understood everything; much more than her husband had intended. A single tear ran down her cheek as she asked him to confirm what she had been dreading for the past two years.

"You are not coming back to me, are you?" She did not break down, only took his hand softly and awaited his reply.

He looked into her eyes, drawing from them the strength he needed to answer honestly.

"No."

Minerva winced at his words, but deigned to sit with him in silence for a few moments before proceeding.

"And what if I refuse? What if I begged you to stay, to live, for me. What then?"

"Oh, Tabby." Minerva closed her eyes at the nickname he saved just for her. "If you asked, I would live for a thousand years. I would sacrifice it all for one more second with you. Order me to live. I will obey without question. I would be lying if I said I did not wish it." Matching tears were now sliding down his face.

But Minerva knew his mind equally as well as she knew his heart. Albus did not venture into anything lightly. He had the gift of foresight; the ability to weigh all the consequences of his actions, even several steps down the road. If Albus was certain that his death was necessary, then she would not stand in his way. Her one last gift to the love of her life would be to save him from the guilt of prolonging the world's time in darkness.

"No." Albus looked once again into her eyes. "I will not ask you." She attempted a small smile, which he managed to return.

"I have sacrificed many dreams for the betterment of our world. But you have been the greatest and the best of them, and the hardest to let go."

"That's not true. We have lived that dream together for many years. And it's not like I will never see you again," she reminded him.

"I know without a doubt that we will see each other again. And until then, you have my portrait…"

"I was not talking about your portrait," she interrupted. "Hogwarts has been our home for so long. I see a part of you in every child that walks these halls. We have no children, and yet we have thousands."

The clock chimed that it was time to go, and both slowly rose from their chairs and locked in a desperate embrace.

"I have loved you my whole life, and that will not change with your death," she told him, staring into those piercing blue eyes one last time.

"The feeling is mutual, my darling."

And then he left her.