Bittersweet

Disclaimer: I don't own HP

As the owls flew in at breakfast one morning, many students noticed the pure black one that led the group. Those who were certain they weren't going to receive a letter that morning followed its path to Minerva McGonagall. When the students learned its recipient, some looked away while the more curious students maintained their gaze.

Minerva was surprised when the black owl landed in front of her; she wasn't expecting any post. She removed the letter from the owl's leg and fed it some of her breakfast. It took off; apparently, a reply wasn't necessary. Minerva saw her name on the back of the letter and recognized the script immediately as her sister, Morgana's.

Those curious students who still watched saw the rare smile of their Transfiguration teacher. They watched as she opened the letter, resuming her strict demeanor. Those students close enough to the staff table could see her eyes move across the parchment, reading the letter. The reaction was immediate. Her skin turned a shade of white that could give the ghosts contest, and a hand covered her mouth as she read it. Again, only those close enough to the staff table would notice that her eyes were threatening to release tears.

When she opened the letter, Minerva first noticed the teardrops on it. This was not a good sign; Morgana was a strong woman and didn't cry often. Taking a deep breath, Minerva read the letter:

My dearest sister,

Tragedy has befallen our family. It gives me no pleasure to inform you that McGonagall Manor is now yours. Our elder brother Matthew has passed. On one of his Auror jobs for the Ministry, he was killed. I mourn the loss of our dear brother, as I know you will when you receive this. I know you were particularly close to him, which is why I am not pleased to write you this letter. As I am the only one who can, we must be strong – together. I hope you are well, dearest Minerva, beside the pain this letter caused.

All my love,

Morgana

Minerva McGonagall dropped the letter in shock. She did not notice as it fell into her breakfast, or that some of said breakfast got onto her robes. She did not notice the concerned looks that Albus Dumbledore, on her left, and Pomona Sprout, on her right, were giving her. She did not notice the concerned looks of the students who had watched out of pure curiosity.

Minerva knew that tears were threatening to spill out of her eyes, so she quickly stood up. The students sort of had a sixth sense to whenever Dumbledore stood up. When he stands, the Hall quiets and watches him. Minerva, seated next to him, drew this attention as she fled the hall out the door behind the staff table.

Whispers broke out and Albus took the letter that Minerva had abandoned out of her breakfast. He read it, and immediately stood to follow her. Rumors flew around the hall, but Albus didn't care. He knew she would go to her quarters, so he hurried there.

When Albus reached his deputy's quarters, the door was ajar. He pushed through it gently and saw Minerva curled up in a ball in a couch near the fireplace. She stared into the fire, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Silent tears streaked her face even still. Albus slowly made his way to the saddened woman. He sat on the couch next to her, not saying a word. 'I'm sorry' would be pointless; he had nothing to be sorry for, and knew she would not appreciate the sentiment. He couldn't lie and say that everything would be okay, because he knew very well that his deputy was close to her brother and everything would never be the same again.

"Why, Albus? Why him? Why Matthew?" she whispered finally.

"I don't know, my dear," he answered. Minerva's saddened heart skipped a beat when he called her 'my dear'. But it quickly returned to its normal beating when she told herself that it was only a friendly greeting, nothing more. He couldn't possibly return the feelings she had for him.

Not realizing what she was doing, Minerva leaned on her employer, crying into his shoulder. Albus was surprised for a moment, but began rubbing circles on her back soon after he recovered. He gazed down at his love, knowing she only thought of him as an employer and a friend, nothing more. He wished she would think of him as something more, but not every man's wish comes true. Mentally, he chastised himself for thinking of that when she was so upset. Minerva surely would perceive it as taking advantage of her and her distress, if she knew the direction of his thoughts as he held her.

After a while of silence, Minerva blew Albus's auburn beard away from her face with a frustrated huff and said, "I'm sorry."

"For what, Minerva?" he asked.

"For losing myself," she replied professionally.

Albus chuckled, "That's quite all right. Everyone deserves to mourn for their loses. I've had to do that," he ended sadly.

"If you don't mind me asking, who have you mourned for?" Minerva asked hoarsely.

"Most prominently in my life were my mother and little sister," he answered quietly. Minerva was surprised; she wasn't aware he had a sister, "I feel that I must take responsibility for my sister's death."

"Albus! Don't say that," Minerva protested.

"I should," he said. He explained what had happened to his sister, beginning when she was six years old to her death. Minerva had tears in her eyes by his story's end, "If I had paid more attention to her…," he sighed, "But you know what pains me the most about that story? It's the fact that it involved me befriending Grindelwald. I was... I was such a fool."

"Don't... It's not...," she sighed, "There's nothing you could have done," Minerva finally whispered to her colleague.

Albus toyed with the idea of telling her how he felt. He had told her something he never told anyone before, and she defended him from himself. He tried it at a vague approach, "The first time I ever told someone that story, it was to the woman I was in love with."

Albus watched Minerva's face carefully. For a millisecond, jealousy flashed through her eyes. Albus couldn't help but notice both that and the disappointed look on her face as she said, "Oh."

Minerva looked away from his piercing blue eyes, determined not to cry over the love she knew she just lost to an unknown woman, on top of the still aching pain of her brother's death. She never hated anyone before, but Minerva hated this unknown woman for stealing Albus from her. What a terrible start to her day.

With newfound confidence, Albus gently placed his hand on her chin and turned her head to face him. He stared into her beautiful emerald eyes for a moment before saying, "I have only told that story to one person."

An odd, twisted elation filled Minerva up like a balloon despite her sadness in a new, bittersweet moment. If she understood correctly, this was Albus's own way of telling her he loved her. But what stopped her from smiling was a bit of uncertainty; what if Albus didn't mean what Minerva thought he meant.

Albus noticed this hesitation and said, "It's you." Uncertainty left Minerva, and, after a momen'ts hesitation, leaned forward and kissed him. Albus was thrilled that she returned his feelings and returned the embrace.

When the couple broke apart, Minerva said, "I love you too." She paused, the weight of the morning's news falling back onto her shoulders and spoiling her new happiness, "But I miss my brother."

"I bet Matthew would have been happy to see you happy. Would he want you to be unhappy, even when he's gone?" Albus asked.

"I suppose not," Minerva sighed. "Thank you Albus."

"Anytime, my love," he replied. Minerva's heart skipped a beat once more as he called her 'my love'. This time, she knew that this was, quite obviously, more than a friendly greeting.