Disclaimer: See chapter One.

Thanks to all reviewers! It's always a pleasure to know that someone actually reads this g.

Arabella Figg: Thanks. I have updated as soon as possible, for I wanna know where this story is going to lead me.

Romance 4-ever: Thank you. I'm trying to keep it nice, but well- One never knows

Quill of Minerva: Maybe there'll be a letter from Dumbledore I'm not quite sure yet. Hope you nevertheless like the new chapter.

Human nature

Chapter Two: Pretending

Let's pretend we never met.

Albus Dumbledore got the letter via owl post on the last official day of school.

He was kind of surprised as the letter fell down on his plate, without any signature.

Normally, all letters he received came from an organisation or a ministry, once or twice he got a letter from Flamel or some of his other well chosen friends.

An anonymous letter was something new, so he decided to put it in his pocket and read it later, when we was alone.

And that was at 16:30 o'clock, when all lessons were over and he sat in his little bureau, drinking a hot cup of tea and eating some lemon drops.

Dumbledore opened the envelope carefully and read the letter slowly; but nevertheless he had to read it two or three times before he understood it.

Really understood it.

After that, he laid the letter on the table, folded his hands and began to think.

What he knew was that one of his students had wrote him a letter.

But who?

It was clear that it had to be one of his graduating students, for in the letter it said: "We are going to be separated.

Under other circumstances, it could have also been a student who was leaving or had to leave, but a) there was none and b) the graduation was too close to play no role.

Well, it had to be a female student, too, for it was a love letter.

Not that Dumbledore was against homosexuality; he just couldn't imagine a boy fancying him. Not that he really could imagine a girl to do so.

And this student was very smart, for she spoke about her mistakes and had the right view upon things.

He grabbed the letter and read it again.

Sure, a love letter. But also a letter of renunciation.

Who would write that to him?

The teacher closed his eyes for some seconds and as he opened them again, he had an idea.

At 22:30 o'clock, the probably last dinner at Hogwarts for the former seventh graders was over.

Tomorrow, they would all go home, do whatever they pleased and some maybe would never look back again.

Others would maybe remember the time at this school as the happiest in their life and already thought about starting a career at Hogwarts.

One of the students who had both on her mind was Minerva McGonnagall.

As she was walking out o the Great Hall, she was torn apart between trying to feel finally free and break out in tears.

The whole evening she had avoided looking at the staff, especially at one teacher.

But now as she walked out, she had the desperate wish to seem him a last time, just to be able to remember how he looked.

So she turned around, but he wasn't there anymore.

Shocked, surprised and a little bit angry she stepped backwards, until she was out of the hall and knocked against a person.

"I'm so" She looked in the face of the man and immediately made a jump backwards.

"Professor Dumbledore!

"Yes, Miss McGonnagall." He smiled by seeing her blush a little, just a little, but enough to make a real Scottish woman be angry of herself.

"Can I have a word with you?" he asked politely.

There it was. The moment Minerva did never want to come.

'He knows', she thought. 'Oh, why did I even write these stupid letter?!

"Of course, Professor", she said, trying to sound matter-of-factly while inside, she was burning of shame.

"Miss McGonnagall, I have received an anonymous letter yesterday", he said.

Minerva swallowed. That was going to be awfully embarrassing.

"I'm afraid, but I do not really know what this has to do with me", she answered.

"Well, I think it was a letter from a student. A love letter.

She was silent for some seconds, then asked: "Shall I try to find out who wrote it?

But Dumbledore didn't answer her.

"Now, the letter was really nice, obviously written by a young adult and I really enjoyed reading it. The thing is, Miss McGonnagall, that I need to find out who it wrote. I have an idea, maybe it's ridiculous, but I have to ask you, if there is something you want to tell me, Minerva.

He looked in her eyes.

Deep blue greyish eyes, reflecting her own face.

ÔIt was me!' Something inside her screamed. 'It WAS me and I love you! We are made for each other, I know it!

Minerva took a deep breath. 'Damn me, damn me, damn me.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but I cannot help you on these case. I will try to find something out, but you know, this is our last evening and

"I know", Dumbledore sighed, suddenly looking sad. "And I do not want to ruin it. I think if the author wants to stay anonymous, I have to respect it. Now, Minerva. I wish you the best. I know if you want it, you can get it, You're a strong person.

'And a wonderful woman,' he thought, but didn't dare to say it.

"Thank you, professor.

He nodded, then turned around and went upstairs without looking back again.