Disclaimer: Everything I've used from Harry Potter belongs to the totally awesome J.K. Rowling.

A/N: I offer you my sincerest apologies for the long wait for this chapter.

Things were getting stranger and stranger as the day progressed. Odd things were happening between Minerva and Albus -- not necessarily bad things. In fact, they could be quite good. The two hoped they were good; they were hoping for love.

Both desired this love so intensely that they could barely contain their emotions. Being around each other made them both feel so wonderful that one of them just might burst if these emotions were kept secret any longer. This is why Minerva initiated their temporary separation: she needed to regain control over herself.

She had told Albus that she was tired and wanted to take a nap. It was a very believable statement and quite truthful at that. She was ill, and naturally she'd be tired. Albus wanted to rest, so of course he allowed her to go. It was a rather intelligent idea on her part.

Minerva was buried underneath the layers of blankets on her bed. She lay face-down with the pillow over her head, going over all the details, events, and options in her mind. It was not a very complicated matter: She loved Albus Dumbledore and desperately wanted to tell him. However, she didn't know if she should. There were risks, and that was the problem. She rolled onto her side and sighed.

"Gryffindor is home to those with daring, nerve, and courage," Minerva sang softly to herself, recalling the Sorting Hat's latest song. She sighed again. At this point, she didn't feel she properly represented her House.

Albus Dumbledore was her employer, her boss, and, most importantly, her best friend. A confession by Minerva could vastly improve their relationship, or it could make it incredibly awkward.

Or blast it to smithereens, she thought with a scowl.

It was impossible for Minerva not to love Dumbledore, though. She lacked much control over her deepest emotions. At first, she thought she was simply infatuated with the man -- he was the most powerful wizard in the world, after all. The emotions didn't go away; they only intensified. She found herself constantly supporting him and longing to hear his voice, to see those sparkling blue eyes. She wanted the best for him. She wanted to spend every possible moment with him. Most of all, she wanted to give this love to him.

She was scared, though. Too many pessimistic "what-ifs" floated through her head, all while her heart screamed that she'd admit it to Albus. Understandably, she was torn. Perhaps she'd explode. All this emotion had to go somewhere.

"I've got to go for it," Minerva told herself aloud. "I have been putting it off for far too long."

The lovesick woman sat up in bed and wondered exactly what she'd say.

Albus Dumbledore sat in a straight-backed chair, just a single room away from the woman he secretly loved, Minerva McGonagall. He was in the midst of grading essays for her. It was supposed to be a nice favor, and he was doing it of his own accord. Of course, he had studied the few already-graded papers, to ensure that he markd them how Minerva would. She was an exceptionally particular professor, and she was very scrupulous about her work. Albus wanted to do this as perfectly as he could. He hoped she would like what he'd done.

While he worked, his mind was filled with thoughts of Minerva. It was a pity that she had fallen ill today, but Albus couldn't help that he liked taking care of her. Because of her illness, he was privileged enough to spend the whole day with her. He hoped that Minerva was enjoying his presence as much as he enjoyed hers. Minerva McGonagall was such good company.

Merlin, her sleeping form looked so adorable, Albus thought, a small smile playing on his face. He hoped for many more opportunities to have her asleep in his arms. He recalled her steady breathing and how soothing it was to him. He had never felt so tranquil in his long, long, life. She was perfect for him, and he knew it. He let out a sigh and wrote a grade at the top of the parchment.

It was Valentine's Day, and he had, so far, spent almost all of the day with Minerva. He had wanted this so badly, and he got it. He should've been content with that, but he wasn't. He longed for something more. Certainly he had expressed a significant amount of care and concern for her, but he ached to show so much morelove for Minerva. For many long years, he loved the woman. They became very close friends, and he was always happy to be with her. Now he strongly wished he could he could tell her that he loved her. Hopefully, if she didn't have such feelings in return, it wouldn't severely damage their relationship.

Dumbledore sat pondering in the silence. Minerva had yet to refuse his company. She had called him "darling" much more often, and she even allowed him to spoon-feed her. Albus thoroughly enjoyed those moments. He let out a happy breath, relaxed by the absolute serenity he felt in Minerva's rooms. The quiet was broken by a fit of coughs on the other side of the wall.

Poor dear, Albus thought with sympathy toward the woman from which the coughs emanated. She probably can't fall asleep. He had an urge to enter Minerva's bedroom and comfort her.

Of course he didn't. He remained sitting at the desk, marking essays. Fortunately for Albus, he was a constant thinker and was accustomed to working while in deep thought. His musings didn't interfere with his productivity, nor did he find himself putting his thoughts on paper by mistake. He could, however, use some practice with keeping his private thoughts out of his voice.

Not that he'd need it later today -- he had come to a decision that he'd reveal his innermost feelings to Minerva. She deserved to know and had every right to know. These feelings involved her, after all. Albus had been hiding them for much too long. Any more waiting would be detrimental to his heart. Frankly, he was extremely anxious about her reaction. This was a man who had defeated the dark wizard Grindelwald, and yet he was afraid to admit his love to another person! It didn't seem to make sense, but that was exactly what this man was experiencing.

Dumbledore was still in the midst of grading papers when a door slid open. A woman walked across the threshold and shut the door behind her.

"Hello, Albus-- what are you doing?" she asked, looking slightly puzzled. She watched as Dumbledore put down the quill and turned to face her.

"Just finishing up some of your grading," he replied. "I hope you don't mind." He noticed that she had changed out of her usual emerald green robes and was now wearing a crimson robe over what appeared to be a tartan nightgown.

"Not at all," she said, shaking her head. "You really didn't have to do this for me, though." She smiled apologetically, as if it were her idea that he do her work.

"Don't worry about, Minerva. It was a favor from me to you," he said. Then he eyed her with mild worry and asked, "Did you get any sleep? It's hardly been an hour."

Not only was he concerned that she get some rest, he had also realized that he was not yet prepared to make his confession! He expected her to be in bed for more than one hour. Still, he continually reassured himself that he'd be okay and stayed calm.

"I know," she said softly. She returned to her red sofa and sat down. "And no, I didn't get much rest. I had trouble sleeping so I came back out here to see you." She beckoned for him to sit next to her.

Complying, Albus swiftly walked over to the couch annd took a seat next to her. Minerva smiled faintly, and he returned it with one of his own. Both looked at ease on the outside, but inside, they were extremely nervous. They were somehow unaware of each other's passionate love for the other. Each of the pair had decided that they must reveal this secret today. Thus, love would no longer be hidden between the two -- that is, if they could only overcome their anxiety.

Minerva looked into Albus's eyes, those clear pools of blue. They were twinkling again, as they did so often. She breathed happily. Something about him made her feel like the world was right, like life made sense, like she could do anything.

Perhaps even make this confession, she thought, summoning her confidence.

"Dear, are you all right?"

Minerva blinked rapidly. Apparently she had been wordlessly staring at him for quite some time. She reminded herself to stay focused.

"Yes. I'm fine," she answered. "I was just... lost in thought."

Dumbledore nodded understandingly.

"I know exactly what you mean. I sometimes find myself entranced by my own thoughts." He wondered what she was thinking but decided it would be an invasion of her privacy to ask, and even more intruding if he read her mind. He remained silent, looking quite pensive.

Minerva studied Albus's facial expression and was sure she knew the question on his mind. It was a little sooner than she had anticipated, but she knew that she could tell him. She inhaled deeply and assured herself that she'd be okay.

I'd better not put this off any longer, she told herself. She took another deep breath and decided to begin.

A/N: I honestly have no idea how I'm writing the next chapter. Seriously, I'll try not to delay though. I'll definitely work on it during my late night which will be New Year's Eve. D Anyway, thank you for reading, and an extra thanks goes to my reviewers. Hopefully I won't take too long writing this one. Happy New Year if I don't get the next chapter up before then! - Erin