So, this is it folks. I can't believe this is happening now! Truly an end of an era :'( I love love love Minerva and Albus' friendship and it makes me really sad to have them part in this way - with conversations being a little awkward and with no proper goodbye! But I suppose it's difficult to know when a conversation with someone will be your last.

Also, I have written another story about this same moment (though it's from Albus' perspective). I haven't kept this story truly true to what I wrote in that other one. But I have pinched a few ideas so it is a little similar.

As always thanks so much for the lovely lovely reviews!


30 June 1997

Minerva laughed and Pomona hit her lightly on the arm.

"Stop it, Minerva," she said, though a grudging smile appeared on her lips. They stopped outside the gargoyle leading to Albus' office and Pomona sighed and wiped her eyes. "You really are a silly goose," she sighed.

Minerva chuckled. Not for the first time, she was glad that she could count on Pomona to cheer her up at the end of a long day. "Are you in tomorrow?" she asked.

"In the morning. My new Bobutuber is proving to need quite a lot of care and attention," Pomona explained. She kissed Minerva on the cheek. "Perhaps you can help me repot it tomorrow?"

"Not after last time, thank you very much," Minerva replied, and Pomona chuckled at the memory of both she and Minerva being doused in Bobotuber pus the year before; Minerva had since refused to help Pomona with the care of any of her more temperamental plants. "See you tomorrow, Pomona."

"'Night, dear." Pomona waved, then continued her way up the corridor. Meanwhile, Minerva turned her attention to the stone gargoyle.

"Tartan."

The gargoyle bowed and moved aside to allow Minerva access to the spiral staircase. Once at the top, Minerva knocked three times on Albus' office door.

"Albus?" she said, poking her head around the door.

There came no reply.

Minerva frowned as she entered the room and closed the door quietly behind her. Fawkes was perched on the top of Albus' empty chair. He cooed softly when he saw her and flew to land lightly on her shoulder.

Minerva smiled and stroked his feathers. "Is Albus home?" she asked the bird.

Fawkes rest his head against her cheek and pointed with his foot at a travelling cloak draped over Albus' chair. He was home then, Minerva thought.

She walked towards Albus' desk on which lay a large unfolded map. Distracted momentarily from her goal to find Albus, Minerva frowned slightly and peered at the map.

"Minerva."

Startled, Minerva looked up to see Albus standing on the landing leading to his quarters. He appeared tired, Minerva noticed. Perhaps even a little pained too, she thought.

"So you are here," she said, as Fawkes left her shoulder to resume his position on his perch on Albus' desk. "But you are going away again?"

Albus glanced at the map as he descended the steps to his office. "I am afraid so, my dear," he admitted. Finally reaching his desk, he picked up the map and rolled it up. "There is some rather urgent business that I must attend to."

"Must?" Minerva said, raising her eyebrows. "Do you not have a choice?"

Albus caught her eye and Minerva sighed, waving her hands dismissively and sitting down instead.

"I will not pressure you into telling me any more, Albus," she reassured him. "Might I be of any help while you are away? Again."

Her words seemed to have struck a chord because Albus suddenly appeared weary and inexplicably sad. "I do apologies, my dear, for my many absences this term."

"It seems that it cannot be helped, Albus," Minerva said, suddenly feeling guilty for making him feel so. She smiled. "So. What can I do for you while you are gone?"

Albus smiled weakly, clearly relieved that Minerva was not cross. "Might you patrol the corridors with particular care this evening? Severus and Horace can help you. I have sent for Remus, Bill and Nymphadora too."

Minerva frowned but nodded. "Of course. How long—"

"I do not know how long I will be away for," Albus cut in gently. "I will try to return as soon as I am able. It will be no later than tomorrow morning."

"Is it the Ministry you are visiting?"

"No, it is not. It is a little further away," he said softly, an almost distant look in his eyes. He seemed to shake himself and inhaled sharply. "I will increase the protections surrounding the castle."

Minerva nodded. "I see," she said.

She studied him for another moment, truly taking in his paleness and older appearance. She forgot, sometimes, that Albus was almost 130. Yet, this evening, she could tell that he was.

"Albus—" Minerva stopped, a sudden wave of sadness hitting her, not for the first time this year, when she found herself unable to ask Albus what was wrong, and what had been wrong since even before the beginning of this academic term. She bit her lip gently, and cleared her throat. "You said that you wanted to tell me something important this evening?"

"I did and I do" he said, looking away briefly as though he was trying to think how best to say whatever it was he wanted to say. "It is about—It was about the security around the castle. That was all."

Minerva pursed her lips ever so slightly. She knew, as well as he did, that he had just come up with that on the spot. If anything, that worried Minerva even more. She had never seen Albus struggle to find words before.

To break the silence, Minerva put her hand in her cloak pocket and removed an envelope from it. She handed it to Albus.

"It was placed in the wrong pigeon-hole," she said. "Again. I am surprised we receive our mail at all given how many times it is placed in the wrong tray."

Seemingly relieved that they had moved on to a more comfortable and manageable conversation topic, Albus smiled and leaned forward to take the mail. It was a letter from Aberforth - quite a rare occurrence, Minerva noted. He and Albus hardly ever corresponded.

"Thank you, my dear," Albus said, slipping the letter into his desk drawer. He winced a little and Minerva's eyebrows knit together, concern getting the better of her.

"Are you hurt?" she asked worriedly.

Albus shook his head, but he did shake the sleeve of his cloak down so that it concealed his withered hand. "Nothing but the aches and pain of old age, my dear," he replied lightly. "You will understand one day when you reach the great age that I am now."

Minerva looked at him through her glasses. "I do not need to," she replied quietly, referring to the recurring pains she had been subject to as a result of the injury she had sustained on the lawn the previous year.

Albus looked sad at this, and silence then settled across the room. The only thing that could be heard was Fawkes' soft cooing as he diligently cleaned his feathers.

Minerva shuffled in her seat, feeling unusually awkward and uncomfortable. She had always valued her friendship with Albus. Along with Pomona, he was the closest friend she had. Yet, something seemed to have come between them this year. He had been distant ever since her return from Caithness the previous summer. It pained her, more than she cared to admit, that someone she trusted completely did not feel the same way in return.

Minerva cleared her throat. "When will you be leaving?" she asked.

"Quite soon," Albus replied quietly.

"Then I shall leave you to get ready," she said. "I have a meeting with a student anyway."

He raised an eyebrow, and Minerva shrugged, a faint smile gracing her lips.

"Grace Matthews," she said, referring to her goddaughter, and Pomona's daughter. "I believe she is going to attempt to mollify me so that I mark her exams more kindly."

Albus chuckled. "Will you?"

Minerva shook her head. "She does not need me to," she said truthfully. "But even if she did, I am not so easily swayed."

"No?"

Minerva caught his eye briefly and this time she failed to contain a smile. "Certainly not," she said. She sighed and then smoothed down her robes. "I had best be on my way. I shall see you later then, Albus," she said. "Or tomorrow morning."

Albus nodded once, though he didn't say anything.

Minerva began to leave the room. She had just reached the door when a voice called her back.

"Minerva?"

She turned and raised her eyebrows. "Mhm?"

Albus seemed to hesitate, then he moved around the table and came towards her. Minerva had barely the time to raise her eyebrows in surprise as her friend's arms wrapped themselves around her own.

"Oh," she said, frowning a bit and then patting his arms awkwardly before they broke apart again.

"I just wanted to say thank you, my dear, for all of your help over the years," he said. "Sincerely. Your friendship has meant a great deal to me."

A puzzled frown flitted across Minerva's features though she did not question him; Albus' gentle smile did not invite questions but rather put her at ease which, in hindsight, had been precisely the point.

She straightened and smiled; a kind and warm smile she seldom used in front of students. "Recognition, at last," she teased. Then, more seriously. "You are most welcome, Albus. Our friendship means a lot to me too."

She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I shall see you when you get back. Perhaps you might finally return my book to me?" she added, looking at him knowingly. Albus had borrowed a book from her several months ago and, so interested he was by the theories it explored, he had kept his hands on it for as long as he could. Minerva did not really need it back, however, it was more of a little joke between them now.

"I shall make sure that I do."

Minerva smiled. "Do let me know when you return — whatever the time," she said, her concern getting the better of her. She put her hand on the door handle and pulled the door open. "See you later, Albus."

"Goodbye, my dear."

And, with those last words, Minerva left the Headmaster's office and made her way to her office for her meeting with Miss Matthews.