A/N: It bothers me that this fic is a lot shorter than I wanted it to be, but maybe it's a good thing so that you won't get too bored with it. shrugs Oh, it's told from Minerva's POV (as I'm sure you could figure out yourself). ;D
Although I will likely never fully condone the endless inquiries of my private lives from others, it is difficult to deny there are reasons for accusations. Albus Dumbledore and I have been fellow Hogwarts staff members and true companions for many decades. Over the years, our relationship has transformed into something that no one- not even with the exception of the ever-interfering Rolanda Hooch- ever expected.
Albus and I soon became best friends almost immediately after becoming acquainted. I admired his strong sense of dignity and wisdom, and though I can rarely bring myself to admitting it, his somewhat childlike mannerisms. Never before have I been able to rely on or talk to someone as easily as with Albus. The downfall to our relationship, however, is that he has yet to realize- or more that I have yet to tell him- how I feel about him.
During our afternoon walks together through the school grounds or our usual late-night chess matches, I often find myself wondering if he does indeed share my feelings for him. Our frequent but accidental touches linger longer than they should, we are able to "read" each other better than any Divination teacher Hogwarts has ever employed, and- although there is chance I am imagining it- his eyes seem to twinkle at their brightest when he is smiling at me.
Why then, you may ask, have I never confessed to Albus my true affection for him? The answer is quite simple; I cannot bear to sacrifice my friendship with him for a mere "crush", as they call it. As much as the realization pains me, I would rather live my life knowing that we could never be anything more than just friends than end it all with senselessness on my part.
Who knows? Perhaps one day I shall admit it all to him... but not today!