Footprints on the Sands of Time

I see some light in the darkness, but it may possibly flicker out.

-Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, "The Adventure of the Bruce-Partington Plans"

December 7, 1944:

I watched the last class of the day - Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first-years - as they filed into the room. Professor Dumbledore sat on top of his desk with a daisy behind his ear, and I stood beside him. I wondered briefly if he would tell them about Iona Westhaven, or if he would pass that information on to Professor Flitwick to share with his House. There was a very conspicuously empty seat on the left side of the room next to a pale-faced little girl with pigtails wearing a Ravenclaw tie. Professor Dumbledore caught my eye and his mouth quirked in a sad smile. He murmured, "Yes, that's Miss Westhaven's seat - and her seatmate." I nodded.

As the students settled down, giving me surreptitious curious glances, Professor Dumbledore stood up and said, "All right, then. I'm sure that you will be pleased to know that I had nothing planned for today's lesson." There were smiles. "However." The smiles changed to frowns. "Oh, quit that - you won't be doing any work today, unless, of course, Miss McGonagall here requires your assistance." They looked quizzical, and I smiled. "Students, this is Miss Minerva McGonagall, a member of last year's seventh form. As I said, I had nothing planned for today's lesson, and she has kindly agreed to come in and...er, well, you'll see. Miss McGonagall?"

"Thank you," I said, turning and facing the students. "You've been taking notes on theory, correct?"

Heads nodded.

I smiled. "You haven't been doing much Transfiguration at all?"

Heads shook back and forth.

I held out my hand to Professor Dumbledore, who had reassumed his perch upon his desk. He handed me the daisy tucked behind his ear. I said, "You've been over Meteyard's Five Principles?"

Heads nodded.

"Then you can tell me..." I took out my wand and promptly changed the daisy into a jonquil. "...which principle was just used here?"

Hands rose. I handed the jonquil to Professor Dumbledore, who stuck it back behind his ear, and pointed at a Hufflepuff boy on the right side of the room. "You, there - tell me your name."

"Peter O'Donovan, miss."

"All right, Mr. O'Donovan. Which of Meteyard's Five Principles is it?"

"The Fourth, miss."

I nodded. "Very good, Mr. O'Donovan."

Professor Dumbledore added, "Take five points for Hufflepuff, Peter. Well done."

I handled the rest of the class in the same way, making it a review session - but a fun one. I changed inkwells into pots of honey with spoons. I changed House ties into glittery polka-dotted bow ties and back again. Points were handed out right and left - they were smart students. I thoroughly enjoyed working with them. And at the end of the class, with Professor Dumbledore's permission, I changed everyone's quill into a sugar quill. The students left happily, sucking on their quills. Or rather, most of them left happy. Iona Westhaven's seatmate hung behind, slowly putting her things into her satchel. Professor Dumbledore said softly, "Adele."

She looked at him unhappily. "Yes, sir?"

He looked at her for a moment. I could see him trying to decide whether or not to tell her about Iona. In the end, he said, "Can you come see me in my office tonight at eight?"

Adele nodded.

"We'll have some hot chocolate, and perhaps a game of chess." He smiled, and she tried to return it. "I'll see you tonight."

She left.

He sighed. "Poor child. Her grades have slipped since Miss Westhaven was - taken, and nobody knows quite what to do with her. I don't want to tell her about Iona's current condition until Theron has determined if anything can be done for her, but that will take a while, and she usually asks Filius every day if there's any news."

"At least you're trying to do something for her," I said. "I didn't see anyone else in the class speak to her the entire lesson."

"Iona was her best - and only, I think - friend. It's difficult to watch her stay in the shadows all day, but when I try to draw her out in public, she only shrinks back further."

"I noticed that when I called on her."

"Yes. And, Minerva, you were absolutely marvelous today in class. Have you ever considered a teaching career?"

"Me?" I was flabbergasted. "Well...no."

"Would you?" He sounded serious.

I paused. Teaching class today had been a lot of fun. Who knew? "I'm not sure. I might."

"You should."

Teaching. Me. It wasn't so impossible as I had first thought.

Professor Dumbledore hopped off of his desk. "Well, Minerva, I have some things to attend to...shall we find out if your area of Diagon Alley is clear?"

I nodded. That reminded me. I still had yet to tell him about what Maimonides and I had spoken about last night. "And I need to talk to you - somewhere where we can't be heard."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "All right. We'll go to my office."

We went down the hall, into the portrait, and sat in the armchairs, just like we had when I was still Head Girl. I began, "Did you know that Maimonides is seeing one of the Slytherin prefects?"

Professor Dumbledore looked surprised. "No, I did not."

"You said that there were rumblings in the Slytherins."

He nodded.

"Maimonides also said that many of the Slytherins were advocating Grindelwald, and Demetria - the girl he's seeing - was not one of them. I took the liberty of advising him to come to you with any...information...that he may glean."

Professor Dumbledore said, "Excellent, Minerva. You did tell him to be discreet?"

"Oh, yes. And threatened him within an inch of his life if he takes any unnecessary risks."

He smiled at me. "Minerva, that takes a load off of my mind. I had wondered if there were any information resources left to me, and I must admit that young Maimonides did not occur to me. However, I think that he will be a valuable ally - and you may tell him that I said so."

I nodded, feeling pleased. It was as though I was right back at home, having another weekly meeting with Professor Dumbledore, reporting the week's events, finding out what I could do to help. It was nice.

He stood up and went to a small ball sitting on his desk. Tapping it, he said clearly, "Flourish and Blotts, Diagon Alley!"

Blue mist swirled in the ball and cleared, and it showed the area outside the bookstore. It looked like a normal business day. Professor Dumbledore said, "It looks like all is clear."

"I'll be off, then."

He hugged me. "Minerva, it's been a pleasure working with you - both as an orchestra member and as a fellow teacher. Are you sure you won't stay for dinner?"

"Quite sure."

"Then do an old friend a favor and be careful as you leave. Don't tarry in Hogsmeade - Apparate home quickly."

I nodded. "I will."

He saw me to the door of the castle and stood watching me as I went down the path. I felt his gaze warm and solid on my back, wishing me well as I went back out into the world. And then the path twisted, and I knew that he couldn't see me any more.

I walked briskly down the dark way - it was December, after all, and the sun went down early. I made good time down the trail, and I was soon at the Apparition point.

As I prepared to leave, a hunchbacked old woman approached me. "Alms?" she croaked.

I shook my head. "Sorry," I said.

It crossed my mind briefly that it was rather odd to see a beggar on the town's outskirts as opposed to on the main streets -

And as she got a bit too close to me for comfort, I remembered how Iona Westhaven was taken, and I began to back away.

And the old woman's face changed into something hideous, a malignant mass of horny growths and horrible sharp, yellow teeth, and the monstrous mouth twisted up into a sinister grin that made my spine tingle with fright, and Grindelwald reached out with a scabrous, crooked hand -

And all I thought about were blue paisley swirls, blue Dumbledore eyes and soft, neat black hair and the way he handled his conductor's baton like a wand, and I pulled out my own wand and shrieked, "Expelliarmus!"

It didn't have much effect, but as he stumbled briefly, I realized that I had given myself a bit of time. I Disapparated without any thought as to my destination. I only had time to think, "Merlin, don't let me get splinched -"

I stumbled and caught myself on the rail of a gurney. White walls. Gray tile. Nasty, medicinal lights.

And Theron standing at the end of the hall in a white over-robe, looking down at the contents of a clipboard.

I managed to gasp his name before my absolute terror made my knees refuse to hold up the rest of my body. I saw him look up. His face widened in recognition and horror, and then he was there, kneeling in front of me. "Minerva -"

"It was him," I could only say. "It was him."

"Who?"

I would not let myself stammer. I would not. I took a deep breath. "Grindelwald."

"What?" He seized my shoulders.

"He was waiting outside Hogwarts in the guise of an old beggar woman. When I was preparing to leave, he approached me. I Stunned him, but it didn't do much, and then I just Disapparated. I didn't know where."

"Well, you're certainly safe here." He hugged me, and I felt my fright grow less. "It's a good thing you didn't get splinched." He pulled me a bit closer and rested his chin on the top of my head. I let out a shaky breath that I didn't even know that I had been holding, and he said, "It's over now. Dad -" His voice cut off and he let go of me abruptly. "We have to talk to Dad. Come on - I'll take you to my office."

Theron led me - by the hand - down the hall. We twisted and turned through assorted corridors until we finally arrived at a small door. He unlocked it, and we went in.

Two creaky folding chairs greeted us, as well as half of the books that covered all four walls of the room that was no bigger than a walk-in closet. He rummaged around in his neatly-ordered desk until he found a tin canister. "Light a fire, please," he said while opening it. I did so. He threw a handful of powder into the small grate and said, "Professor Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts." We had a brief wait, and then Professor Dumbledore's head appeared in the fire. Theron said, "Hello, Dad."

Professor Dumbledore looked around Theron's office and saw me. "Minerva! You're not at home..." And then he looked at my face, and back at Theron, and he said quietly, "What happened?"

Theron came and stood behind me as I told Professor Dumbledore everything that happened. His disembodied head nodded and looked progressively grimmer with every word I said. When I was finished, he said, "So we can assume that he's lying in wait for people to come and go from Hogwarts."

Theron broke in, "Dad, there's something else. Iona Westhaven - talked."

"Talked?"

"We put her into a catatonic-type state - she would have...harmed herself otherwise. We'll be looking at reconstruction in a few weeks...but that's beside the point. I was sitting with her today, and she sat up, grabbed my arm, and said, 'He says he's going to break into Hogwarts. Protect Adele.' And then she curled up again, and she hasn't said anything else all day."

Adele. That was the little girl who had been Iona's best friend.

"He's going to break in," Professor Dumbledore repeated heavily. "All right. All right. Theron, I need to organize a faculty meeting. See Minerva home. And Minerva -" he looked at me. "Minerva, please be careful."

I was suddenly scared all over again. "I will."

He nodded wearily. "Take care, you two." And then he was gone.

I looked up at Theron, who was staring at the suddenly dark fireplace. "He's going to break in?"

"That's what she said. Do you know who Adele is?"

"She was part of one of the classes I taught today. She's Iona's best friend, and she isn't taking Iona's...absence...very well."

Theron sighed. "Bloody hell." And then he seemed to remember whom he was talking to, and he said, "Minerva, I'm sorry -"

I waved a hand. "It's not like I haven't heard it before, and it's quite an apt occasion." But I only got as far as the fourth word, as he was kissing me quite soundly after that.

Medea had talked to me a great deal about precisely what you were supposed to do when a boy kissed you - another thing that older sisters were useful for. As long as I knew what to do, I would be all right.

But before I could remember what it was exactly that I needed to do, he pulled away from me, looking down at me with very amused eyes.

"What?" I asked, figuring that I had done something wrong.

"You're thinking about what it is you're supposed to be doing, aren't you?"

Oh, my. "Well..."

"And your older sister told you all about it, right?"

This was frightening. "Yes."

"And you were trying to remember what to do because you figured you'd never use what she told you, and so you forgot about it, yes?"

I couldn't help but blush. "Yes."

"Well," said Theron. "I have one piece of advice for you..."

A boy giving a girl kissing advice? There seemed something odd about it, but if he knew what I was thinking, then it was probably all right. "What?"

"Relax and try to enjoy it." He smiled down at me, and then opened the door. "An odd time to kiss you, anyway. I'm off duty now. Come on, I'll take you home."

We did not touch as we left the hospital and moved through the various alleys that would take us to Diagon Alley. However, we did talk.

I dodged a rubbish bin. "Maimonides is involved with a Slytherin prefect."

"Really?"

"And he's going to be passing information to Professor Dumbledore."

"Even better."

I glared at him. He said, "I mean it. We could use information like his. He knows to be discreet?"

I nodded. "Very discreet. And he's a prefect -"

Theron said wryly, "I noticed."

" - so nothing will look out of the ordinary."

"You McGonagalls impress me more and more every day."

"We're just chock-full of surprises."

Suddenly, Theron pulled me into a doorway and thrust me behind him. "Quiet!" he hissed. I looked up at him, astonished, but he shook his head.

Outside on the street, there passed a tall, blond man with an odd little moustache. He seemed to consider himself very important, and he looked familiar...perhaps my parents had told me about him? An entourage of simpering little men and one or two dejected-looking house-elves followed him. As he passed, Theron's grip on my arm tightened. And then he was gone, and Theron stuck his head out of the doorway like a hare checking to see if the fox had left the entrance to his warren. He breathed a sigh of relief. "He's gone."

I didn't say anything, although I was curious. However, as we hurried along the streets - Theron seemed to want to get me home as fast as possible - he explained.

"That was Andronicus Malfoy."

Now I knew the name. I had seen a picture of him shaking hands with the Minister of Magic in the Daily Prophet. "He's on the board at St. Mungo's."

"That's him. And he's taking a great interest in my work, especially with Iona Westhaven, and it's not exactly a friendly interest. I trust him about as far as I could throw Aelfric's piano. I would rather not run into him, especially when I'm with you."

"Why?"

"As I said, it's not a friendly interest. You're a valuable ally, as well as - " He stopped short. "I'd just rather not place you in any more danger than you're already in."

What had he been going to say? "Would you mind telling me what sort of danger it is that I'm in?"

We had arrived outside Flourish and Blotts. He glanced around the busy street. "I can't exactly say in public."

"Then come upstairs."

"I'm not sure if that's wise."

This was getting ridiculous. I faced him and said in as sweet a voice as I could muster, "Theron. If I am uninformed, I cannot defend myself. And there will be times when no one is around to protect me but myself. If I don't know what 'danger' it is that is threatening me, then I don't know what to look for. These past two days have been extraordinarily stressful, and if you're not going to give me answers to my questions, then I think it would be best if I simply - if I simply did not see you any more." That last part hurt, but I felt it was necessary.

He blanched, and then his brow lowered. He looked angry. And his cloak whirled about him as he turned on his heel and headed up the stairs. I took that to mean that he would talk, and I followed him.

He was waiting for me at the top of the stairs. "Door's locked," he said bluntly.

"Of course it is." I wanted to ask him if he really thought me that much of a fool, but I decided that that would be pushing it. Instead, I simply unlocked the door and went in. "Sit down."

He sat.

I took the seat next to him on the 'divan'. "Talk."

He stared at me for a minute, looking tortured. Then he shook his head. "Ask me a question."

"What sort of danger are you talking about?"

"Grindelwald is not simply arbitrarily taking children."

"What?"

"You've noticed that he's never taken a Slytherin."

I hadn't, but I would pretend that I had. "Yes."

"There's a reason for that. Slytherin parents are paying off Andronicus Malfoy, who is in turn supplying Grindelwald with whatever resources he needs to take those children and keep them from becoming fully functional witches and wizards."

"Why?"

"It all comes down to the same thing - purity of bloodline. Malfoy is obsessed with eliminating 'non-pure' witches and wizards. Grindelwald is simply bloodthirsty. He needs someone to arrange the necessities for him - finding him the necessary space to work, helping find 'test subjects'. Andronicus Malfoy is a bigot, but he is a very rich bigot. And money talks."

"What does that have to do with you?"

"My team, of which I am the leader, is making more and more headway every day with the children that we've recovered. We've found a way to reconstruct pathways in the mind that, once opened, will give us information about Grindelwald's whereabouts. Those reconstructed corridors will also restore a sense of sanity, thus making it possible to proceed with normal therapy. The last thing that Andronicus Malfoy wants is for us to help these children. He can change Grindelwald's location, but if we restore these children to some sense of normalcy, the whole operation will have been a financial and social loss for him, which is something that he wants to avoid at all costs. And so Malfoy is coming after me, because I am the leader of the team. I have had to be very careful about the ways I get home at night. No more Portkeys. No more broomsticks. There have been...threats. Against me as well as against Dad. And because you're associated with both of us now, instead of just with Dad, that puts you in danger - a bargaining chip, or something of that sort. You'd be quite useful to the Malfoy crowd as a hostage."

My head was spinning. Theron was becoming more and more complicated all the time. "That explains why all the Slytherins have been talking about Grindelwald's new order."

He mused, "That would make sense...their parents have told them that they are safe from Grindelwald, so they talk...and of course, Malfoy would have told Grindelwald that he'll be the head of whatever they put together when they succeed..."

Something had been niggling at the back of my mind. I gave voice to it. "Theron...you are being careful?"

He smiled bitterly. "They haven't gotten me yet."

Yet. "Will they?"

He did not answer me.

I asked again, more urgently, "Will they?"

When he still did not answer, I got up and stalked across the bare boards, letting loose a tirade of profanity that I thought I had left on the Quidditch field. This simply wasn't fair. Nobody ever knew about these things until it was too late. What was wrong with the world? Would people just sit back and let these things happen? And why did the Malfoy crowd have to pick on Theron? I loved him. They would get him. And there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it.

I was raging. I went over to the wall, pulled back, and punched a hole in the boards. My knuckles stung, and I looked at my right hand in shock. Splinters stuck out of the back of it, and my fingers were scraped and bleeding. I stood there staring at my right hand, and I began to cry. Again.

He had been watching me. Now he got up and took my damaged hand in his. "Let me see that." He inspected it carefully. "I don't think you've done any permanent damage." He led me to the kitchen area and slowly, gently, began to work the slivers of wood out of my skin.

I stood there, not really feeling anything except the remnants of anger being replaced with a desperate sort of sadness. When he stuck my hand under running water from the sink, I jumped at the shock of the cold water. "Sorry," he murmured. He reached for his wand and said, "Resarcio." I watched the raw scrapes slowly turn into new, pink skin.

He kissed my hand lightly and restored it to me. And then he enveloped me in one of those rare types of embraces that felt like a tent, where all one knew was the restful softness of the walls, and the only thing to be heard was a quiet, strong, rhythmic heartbeat.

Then he began to speak.

"Minerva, this is difficult for me to say. Mum is dead. She died the year before I went to school. Dad and I had a bachelor sort of household, and I still got to see him every day when I was at Hogwarts. We still had the family things at Weathervane. But we weren't really a family. Dad was too busy to drop in more than once a month, and I couldn't leave the school. I never really had close friends at Hogwarts. I was very much a loner. And other than Dad and the extended family I rarely saw, no one cared. And the feelings were reciprocated. That's why I didn't quit my job when Andronicus Malfoy began to make his threats. I didn't have anything to lose.

"And then I met you. And I thought that for once, I might have something worth keeping. The last forty-eight hours have only strengthened that conviction.

"Minerva, I wasn't going to worry about myself. I had decided that I would only stay in the game for the children. That once I finished my work, I would let the Malfoy crowd catch up with me and try and take out as many as I could when the time came. Let them have their revenge - but at a cost." He looked at me, trying to see if I was taking all of this in. I was. And it hurt.

"I promise you now, Minerva, I'm going to be careful." He had a wistful smile. "Nobody's ever run their fist through a wall on account of me before. It's a new sensation - but I'll get used to it. Minerva, I...I love you."

All thoughts of scientific diagrams showing where noses were supposed to go left my head as I reached up carefully and kissed him.