Footprints on the Sands of Time

Ay, now the plot thickens very much upon us.

-George Villiers

I came into a half-state of sleep - I was aware of things, but I was not quite awake. I was aware that someone was looking at me, but I did not open my eyes.

Soon, I felt a hand touch my hair tentatively. When I still did not fully awaken, the hand became bolder and ran its fingers down the length of my hair. I heard Theron whisper, "Black silk."

I did not open my eyes - if I did, I would embarrass him, to say nothing of myself.

After a moment, he cleared his throat, rested a hand on my shoulder, and said quietly, "Minerva."

I slowly blinked. Theron said, "Everyone has left, and Dad's going back to Hogwarts now. Would you like to join us?"

I sat up in the chair. "Us?"

"I'm accompanying him."

"I'd love to," I said. I hadn't been back to Hogwarts since I had finished school, and it felt odd not being there in December.

"I'll fetch your cloak," he said. "We'll meet by the front door." He left the ballroom. I got up, stretched, and left the house.

Professor Dumbledore was sitting on the front steps. I sat beside him. We did not speak. I fell into thought and was startled out of my ruminations by a deep sigh from Professor Dumbledore.

"Minerva," he said. "I do believe that this was not my fault."

I nodded.

"That does not keep me from being upset. Miss Westhaven was - is - one of the brightest first-years that it has been my privilege to teach. She had a heart of gold - to be honest, from everything I'd heard, I was rather surprised that she wasn't Sorted into Gryffindor."

"Mmm," I said, for lack of anything else.

"I can't shake the feeling that Grindelwald is going to try to break into Hogwarts. I know it sounds like the deluded ramblings of a tired man, but I can't get rid of it. There are rumblings in the Slytherins. I'm trying to read the writing on the wall, but what with teaching and listening to everyone and trying to keep the school running - to put it mildly, Minerva, it's difficult. And, as you know, I have never been one to ignore my instincts. Miss Westhaven is another clue - she was snatched as soon as she left school grounds, for one thing - but I can't act on my suspicions until I get something more definite. I have no evidence that I can do something with - and how much time will it be before anything happens?" He sighed again.

The door opened behind us and we jumped. Theron's voice said, "There you two are." He handed me my cloak and my viola.

I got up and put my cloak on. Professor Dumbledore stood as well. "Shall we be off, then?"

We set off, walking a little distance from the house. I knew where I was going this time.

"Now," said Professor Dumbledore, and we Apparated to the head of the path leading up to Hogwarts.

The fifteen-minute walk up to the school was silent. They flanked me; I simply walked. I did not like having an honor guard. It was not a comfortable silence in the least. Too many thoughts were tumbling about in my head for me to think clearly. I was very aware of Theron's darkly quiet presence and Professor Dumbledore's now dimmed light beside me.

It wasn't right. None of it. Professor Dumbledore shouldn't be upset. Theron shouldn't be dark. Iona Westhaven shouldn't be cowering in a corner at St. Mungo's. My father shouldn't be in bed every day, grimacing every time he moved. Hundreds of families shouldn't be missing their children. All this was because of Grindelwald. Senseless maiming and hurting and cruelty. I hated him. I hated Theron and Professor Dumbledore. I hated myself. I hated -

And then we came in sight of Hogwarts. It was a dark castle, but it was a citadel of light. There was the Quidditch pitch and the astronomy tower and the greenhouses and the gamekeeper's hut. There were all the comfortable and secure things that had helped define who I was. I took a deep breath, letting the cold, clear air of home fill my lungs. I was home, and it felt good. The hatred was still there, but it was pushed back, lessened. For a fleeting moment, I was sure that I was back, a seventh-year, Head Girl. I caught myself walking a bit taller, as I had done when on duty as a prefect. I laughed softly as we entered the school, and Theron looked at me sharply. I only smiled. And - wonder of wonders - I once more caught Professor Dumbledore smiling into his moustache. He knew that I was happy to be home.

We wove our way through the corridors until we came to a painting where a girl was stretched out asleep on the floor of a pavilion. Professor Dumbledore knocked on the frame and called softly, "Celeste."

The girl stretched, yawned, and smiled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Evening, Professor."

Professor Dumbledore smiled. "It is an evening, isn't it? Lemon drop!"

The portrait swung open, and we stepped into his office. He lit the fire and said, "I'll just make the hot chocolate, then."

Theron started, "Dad, I really can't stay - " but was cut off by Headmaster Dippet's bulbous head appearing in the recently lit fireplace.

"Albus, thank heavens you're back! There's been another strike!"

Professor Dumbledore said urgently, "Where?"

"Diagon Alley - right outside Flourish and Blotts."

I gasped. Theron put out a hand to steady me, knowing that I lived above Flourish and Blotts.

Professor Dumbledore glanced at me and said, "Was anyone taken?"

"A ten-year-old walking home from Florean Fortescue's for an evening sundae. His parents have not yet been located."

I relaxed, but only slightly. Medea was safe.

Headmaster Dippet continued, "Ministry officials are all over the place. They'll take care of it. Thought you might want to know." Now that his dreadful news had been delivered, he seemed to calm down. "Good night, Albus." And his head disappeared.

Professor Dumbledore turned to me soberly. "Well, Minerva, I don't suppose you should go home tonight."

With horror, I felt tears begin to sting my eyes. I bowed my head. "I suppose not."

Professor Dumbledore said, "I'm sure you can stay here in the visitor's rooms."

Not Gryffindor Tower. Not any more. I didn't have any right to claim Hogwarts as my home any more. I bit my lower lip fiercely, willing the tears away. "I - that's fine."

Theron, who had been looking at me with something akin to pity, but nicer, for the last thirty seconds, swept me into a hug. Strong, wiry arms enfolded me in a comforting embrace, and I couldn't keep from crying any more. I was embarrassed, but some tides simply couldn't be kept back, and I let myself go.

Behind me, I heard Professor Dumbledore say quietly, "Theron, I'll go see to Minerva's quarters." The portrait opened and closed, and we were alone.

I felt his hand smooth my hair. "Shh. You're fine and your sister is fine. It'll be okay."

"My sister - " I broke away from him, and his hands tumbled to his sides like so much driftwood. "I have to get word to Medea."

Theron said calmly, "I wouldn't be surprised if Dad is taking care of that as well as your room. If he hasn't, we'll ask him how best to go about it when he returns." Almost shyly, he reached out and brushed a wayward teardrop off my cheek with his thumb.

Casting inhibition to the winds, I stepped forward and held onto Theron, resting my cheek on his chest. I felt him stiffen, and I almost pulled away. However, his arms settled about me, fingers lightly lacing in my hair. I relaxed. I listened to his heart beating steadily. Things would be all right. After a moment of quiet bliss, I whispered, "Thank you."

When he replied, his chest rumbled pleasantly. "For what?"

"For - for making things better."

He tipped my face up to his and looked at me searchingly with those almost scarily brilliant blue eyes. I did not flinch. And then his eyes softened, and he leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

And that was that. I fell hopelessly and irrevocably in love with Theron Dumbledore. For better or for worse - hopefully for better. Bad things might happen, I might lose everything that I thought was important, but I knew that from that point on, as long as I had Theron, things would be all right.

The portrait clicked open, and we broke apart. I turned to see Professor Dumbledore climb through the hole, followed closely by my brother Maimonides, pyjama- and dressing gown-clad - with his prefect's badge. He immediately embraced me in a stiff, brotherly fashion - as he no doubt thought was necessary in front of a teacher. I hid a smile. "Minerva, I'm glad to see that you're well. Professor Dumbledore tells me that you'll be staying here the night?" He sounded like an officious old bat from the Ministry.

I grinned and ruffled his hair, knowing that it would infuriate him - and get him to lose the façade. "Quite right." I looked at Professor Dumbledore, silently asking if he had told Maimonides the reason why I was staying, and he nodded, telling me that it was okay for me to mention it. "There was an attack in front of Flourish and Blotts, and Ministry officials are crawling all over the place. I doubt I could even get near the stairs up to the flat. I'll be here until tomorrow."

Professor Dumbledore said, "I've given Maimonides permission to stay with you tonight. And Minerva, if you don't mind - I know that this is a lot to ask - but I've got a load of first- and second-years tomorrow, and you know as many tricks as I do, if not more. I really have no idea what I'm going to do for tomorrow's lesson, and I'd appreciate it if you could show off a bit."

Maimonides had apparently gotten over his prefect-ness, and he piped up, "She'll do it - she never misses a chance to show off!"

I glared at him, and he grinned at me. Professor Dumbledore smiled into his moustache again, and Theron looked at the ceiling, trying to hide a smile and failing. I said with a certain measure of control, "I'd be more than happy to, Professor."

Professor Dumbledore said, "Excellent, Minerva. I am most indebted to you. By the by, Maimonides has Transfiguration tomorrow, and I'm sure he won't mind serving as your, er, test subject."

My dear brother's face fell, and I grinned diabolically at him. "Of course he won't."

Theron coughed. "It's rather late, Dad, I think I'd better be off."

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Good night, Theron. Oh, by the way - Maimonides McGonagall, prefect - " - I saw my brother straighten up just as I had - "this is Theron Dumbledore, researcher at St. Mungo's. He also happens to be my son."

Theron shook Maimonides's hand gravely. "A pleasure."

"Likewise," my brother said, doing his best to appear on par with the - quite handsome! - figure that Theron cut.

Theron looked at me. "Minerva, I'll be in touch." I nodded. -He'd be in touch!

And he hugged his father, and he was gone. I couldn't stop a sigh from escaping me, and Professor Dumbledore looked at me, eyes gentle. "All right, then. I'll escort the two of you to the visitor's rooms."

Out of the portrait, down the corridors, up a few flights of stairs, down other flights of stairs, and we came to an oaken door that Professor Dumbledore unlocked. As soon as he went inside, the lamps came on, and we were treated to a beautiful sight. Thick red Persian carpets covered the floor, and the walls were covered with tapestries that I thought showed the lives of the Founders. There was a large fireplace next to one wall with big, overstuffed red paisley chairs and ottomans, and a chess set in the middle of the room. Two doors led off to what I presumed were the bedchambers.

Professor Dumbledore said, "Maimonides has informed me that he's quite good about waking up in time for breakfast, and since there's not much time left before then, I suggest the two of you get some sleep. Is there anything else you need?"

We shook our heads.

He smiled. "I think I must bid you adieu then - or rather, a demain." He left the rooms, and we looked at each other.

Maimonides said, "Minerva, what's going on?" He had gotten quite serious, and he actually looked concerned.

I sighed. "I don't know. All I know is that Grindelwald took a ten-year-old outside of Flourish and Blotts, and it's not a good idea for me to go home tonight."

"No - I mean how did you end up here? And why was Professor Dumbledore's son here - and what did he mean, he'd 'keep in touch'?" His brow furrowed. I sighed again.

"Maimonides, this will take a while..."

He looked stubborn. "I've got time."

I settled myself in one of the armchairs, as did he. "Medea and I had a concert about a week ago."

He nodded. "I listened to it on the radio in Professor Dumbledore's office - he didn't think that I should go."

"Right. But he went - you know how he likes chamber music - and he brought Theron. We went out for a drink afterwards, and Theron invited me to play with the Dumbledore family orchestra tonight. I did, and Theron and I came to Hogwarts with Professor Dumbledore, and Headmaster Dippet told Professor Dumbledore about the - about the attack, and Professor Dumbledore said that I shouldn't go home and I could stay here," I finished in a breathless rush.

He looked at me shrewdly. "And you and Theron...are...seeing each other?"

I glowered at him. "I don't see as it's any of your business."

"Oh, so you are seeing each other!"

"No! We haven't even been on a proper date yet!"

"But...?"

I sighed. I didn't exactly feel like discussing this with my younger brother, but I wouldn't see Medea tonight, and whom else would I talk to about it? Professor Dumbledore? Hardly. "But he did something rather odd that makes me think that he might have some interest."

"What did he do?"

I told him all about "Uncle Angus". He laughed. "Rather odd. Were you offended?"

"A bit hurt at first, but I decided to take it as a compliment."

"It sounds like something I'd do for - " He cut himself off just in time.

"For who?"

"No one."

"Maimonides, I told you about Theron."

"You won't tell Mother and Father?"

"Of course not."

"Well - her name is Demetria Howard, and she's a Slytherin prefect."

I raised an eyebrow.

"She's not one of the bad ones, though," he said hastily.

"One of the bad ones?"

"The cutthroats. The ones who talk about Grindelwald all the time."

Rumblings in the Slytherins, Professor Dumbledore had said. An idea started to formulate in my head.

"Demetria's okay, she really is." He leaned forward anxiously. "You won't tell Mother and Father?"

I understood why he didn't want them to know. Since Grindelwald had hurt Father, they had been slightly less tolerant of anyone associated with Slytherin House. I thought that they were being ridiculous. I would not tell. "Of course not. But you might as well do me a favor." Nothing like a little sibling pressure.

His face became wary. "What?"

I thought fast. "You said that some of the Slytherins talk about Grindelwald all the time?"

He nodded. "Right bores, they are. Preaching all the time about how Grindelwald is going to set up a new empire - that a few brats is a mild price to pay - "

I cut him off. "Does Professor Dumbledore know about this?"

He thought briefly. "I don't think so."

"All right. If you haven't been going for hot chocolate with him, start. Tell him everything you see, everything you hear. See what you can get out of Demetria. Keep a low profile."

Maimonides looked startled. "All right, Minerva. Is there something else going on?"

I heard Professor Dumbledore's voice in my mind. I'm trying to read the writing on the wall...I have never been one to ignore my instincts...

"There might be," I said finally. "If there is, I can't talk about it, and it's dangerous. Remember what I said: keep a low profile. If the...something...that might be going on is going on, you'll be valuable - and you're my baby brother." I grinned at him. He made a horrible face at me that was cut short by an earsplitting yawn. "And I think that it's time for bed."

We stood up, and, much to my surprise, he came over and hugged me. I smiled. Maimonides and I had always been close.

We went to our separate rooms. The bed looked exactly like the ones in Gryffindor Tower, with heavy red velvet curtains. When I pulled the curtains back, I found a nest of pillows - just like Gryffindor Tower. I smiled. I had no doubt that Professor Dumbledore had put me in this room for a reason.

On top of the pillows, there rested a puffy-sleeved, voluminous white cotton nightdress - much like the ones that I had worn at school and still wore. I slipped into it. I pulled down the coverlet and slid into bed, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly.

I was home. And it felt good.

I fell asleep very shortly thereafter.