Disclaimer: Don't own them...dang it.

Inspired by a letter written by the writer Richard Steele in 1710. More in author's note below. Happy reviewing...hint, hint!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Minerva McGonagall stared out her bedroom window in Hogwarts castle, a glass of red wine in one hand and a single tear sliding slowly down her cheek.

Alone again, Minerva thought to herself. She let out a ragged breath and pressed the back of her free hand to her forehead to try to hold back a burgeoning headache.

It was becoming more and more difficult to make it through the lonely nights and Minerva feared for the day that she lost it completely. She took a sip of wine and briefly considered finding something a little stronger to help dull her emptiness.

Turning away from the window, Minerva crossed the room to her bed. After setting her wineglass on the bedside table, she stretched herself out on the bed without bothering to get under the covers. She took several deep breaths in an attempt to relax and willed her mind to empty itself.

There was a tap at the window Minerva had just left, a very small, quiet sound, but Minerva's keen ears picked it up at once and her body responded to it as if it had been a thunderclap. Jumping up from the bed, she was back at the window in a matter of seconds.

Minerva gave a cry of frustration as she struggled with the latch on the window before she finally managed to wrench it open. A small owl entered with a scroll of parchment attached to its leg, which she removed with trembling hands. The bird flew away immediately, leaving Minerva alone once more. She hesitated only a moment before breaking the seal and unrolling the parchment.

Minerva read the letter through three times, each time a little slower, before she let it fall to her side. Tears were dripping down her face as she walked back to the bed and sank down onto the covers once again. She felt physically and emotionally drained and she fell asleep quickly.

The letter slipped from Minerva's limp fingers and floated down to the floor as she slept.

Dear Minerva,

I am very sleepy and tired, but could not think of closing my eyes till I had told you I am, dearest creature, your most affectionate and faithful husband,

Albus Dumbledore

The End

A/N This is set during HBP as Albus is searching for the Horcruxes...I didn't want to say that at the beginning, it would have taken away from the angst. The letter (except for the names) is word for word a letter written by Richard Steele to his wife in 1710. I thought it was sweet. And yes, this is similar to my other fic, Eleven Roses, but I had the idea for this one first.