Title: Last Regret

Genre: Angst/Romance

Pairings: AD/GG, AD/MM (it's complicated)

Summary: Based on Maggie Smith's line in Richard Harris' obituary, where she says she though Mcgonagall was "madly in love with [Dumbledore] anyway." The night Albus Dumbeldore goes to his death, he must deal with one final regret.

The knock was not unexpected.

"Come in," Albus Dumbledore said softly, fully expecting to see Harry Potter when he looked up from the papers on his desk. So it was somewhat startling to find his dearest friend before his desk with a look he had not seen since she received word of her fathers' death so many decades ago. His heart sank; There was nothing more upsetting to him than to see Minerva Mcgonagall, the strongest woman he had ever known (next to his own mother, of course) with such a pained expression on her face.

"You're leaving with the boy, are you not?" She said sternly. He nodded, sighing. He knew where this conversation would lead. They'd had a similar one not long after he was cursed by the Horcrux ring. It had nearly turned into a row.

"I am," he replied softly, hoping she would see he hadn't the strength in him to have this particular conversation again," and you know I must, regardless of what harm could come to me. What Harry will be expected to do is nearly impossible. I must give him what help I can."

She seemed to deflate somewhat. Turning from him, she studied Fawkes for a moment. The phoenix let out a soft trill Albus knew was intended to sooth her. She smiled and gently petted the reddish gold plum of feathers above his head. It gave Albus time to study her, to see the weariness and, yes, the chill of fear she'd begun to carry. They'd all begun to carry it to some degree. He frowned, coming to stand beside her. For a moment they both contemplated the magnificent bird Fawkes was in silence. The she spoke.

"I know it's important, Albus. I've never doubted your word on it. And I know the survival of our world, and of Potter, is important to you. I simply wish..." She trailed off, shoulders sagging with the weight of thoughts unspoken.

He simply stared at her in profile for a moment before ushering her to an armchair by the fire. They'd spent many a night there for years just..talking. The occasional chess match had sprung up of course, but for the most part many nights of his career as Headmaster of Hogwarts had been spent in her company, speaking of everything and nothing.

"I wish, too, Minerva," he whispered, a little bit of the pain he was feeling revealed in the softly spoken words. She started in her seat, raising shocked eyes to meet his. The pain in them nearly broke his heart.

They'd never spoken of it since it happened. Her confession. His pained reply. The fact that despite his insistence that she leave, that she find the life and love she'd always deserved, she'd chosen to stand by his side as his friend rather than find a man who wasn't so broken to be her husband. She'd told him it was not merely a wife's duty she desired, but a true partnership. He hoped he'd given her that at least. The woman who knew all his regrets, who'd listened to his the story of his first love with compassion, deserved no less.

"Yes, Minerva. I wish." She dipped her head, and he knew instantly that she was crying. He stood from his chair and kneeled at the side of hers, reaching out to lift her chin so her gze met his. Only a few tears had fallen and her face appeared as composed as ever. He smiled softly. How very Minerva. Dignified even when she wept. It was one of her many admirable qualities, he thought.

"You will help him?" he asked. Immediately her face regained her stern expression.

"Yes, Albus. Whatever help I can give."

He smiled. There had been no doubt in his mind that Minerva would help Harry when he came to ask for it, but it was good to hear the words and see the determination in her face anyway. Harry would be in good hands should his search bring him to Hogwarts as Albus expected it would.

Abruptly she stood, moving towards the door with the same grace he'd once seen turned towards a dueling opponent.

"Good luck, Albus," she said softly as she pulled open the door. A thought struck him that he was about to watch yet another regret walk away from him as so many others had left. He'd made so many mistakes, one of which had robbed him of his sister, his brother, and the love to give the woman whose loyalty and friendship had been the cornerstone of his sanity for so long.

"Minerva, wait!" He stood, making his way over to her in a few long strides. There was some puzzlement in her eyes as she turned to face him. Her lips parted to question him, but he never let the words be spoken. One hand went to her shoulder, the other to her waist, and before either of them knew it he was kissing her. A moment of stiff shock and then she melted into him. He felt tears on his cheeks; whether they were his or hers he didn't know.

He would regret so much in his life. Not seeing Gellert for what he was, not caring for Ariana, not having the courage to defy the prophesy and take Harry in against the wisdom of the blood magic. He would certainly regret never having let what Minerva had offered so long ago escape him. But this he would never regret, not even if he survived this night and died months later from the curse in his right hand. He could not turn back time and give her a partnership and a marriage. He could not magic the children that may have come from it into existence. But he could leave Minerva with the knowledge that he'd loved her all along, even if he'd been unable-no afraid-to give his heart away.

A warning chime from one of the charms placed around his offices broke the kiss. For a moment they stood before the door, foreheads touching as both contemplated the meaning of what had just happened. Finally he pulled away with a sorrowful smile.

"That will be Harry coming up the stairs," he said. She smiled back at him.

"I'll use the floo," she pointed to her hair, which had become slightly unkempt. He chuckled.

"Very well. It wouldn't do to traumatize young Harry any more than he already has been, would it?"

An unladylike snort was his reply as she rolled her eyes. But there was a smile on her face as she gave him one last look before calling out the location of her rooms and disappearing into a rush of green flames.

For a moment his eyes remained locked on the spot where she'd stood. Then his eyes turned to the door, where the young wizard upon whom so much relied was entering. The Hallow of the third brother was tucked under his arm.

It was time to go.

Anyone who read the obituary for Sir Richard Harris knows that the opinion of the wonderful Maggie Smith was that McGonagall, regardless of Dumbledore's own feelings, was in love with him. So I wrote this in the hopes that what would result was a believable missing scene. One that didn't cross canon too wildly and took into account the revelation of what has to be one of the worst breakup I've ever heard of (assuming DD's feelings for Grindelwald were returned). Hope you enjoyed. :)

PS-To the readers of my SG-1 fic, Multiplicity, I apologize. School has been hectic. I promise to try and get over my block on that fic over winter break. This fic just happened to nag me at a time I could afford to write a one shot. Thanks.