Footprints on the Sands of Time

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'

-William Shakespeare, Henry V

December 1944-January 1945

Time passed quickly from there and was only marked by the few times I saw Theron. I did not meet him in public; he sent me an owl on Friday afternoons to formally ask me to walk with him on Sunday. On Sundays, we Apparated to a lonely mountain in north Wales. He always brought a rucksack of food, and we would munch as we walked and talked. As Christmas approached and snow began to fall, we instead Apparated to a cave on the Cornish coast. One of the last times we met in the cave, he asked me to bring my viola. I did, and I found him there with a battered cello and sheet music. We played; it was heartrendingly depressing stuff. I had seen in the Daily Prophet that six children had been found that week, each more broken and ravaged than the previous one found. When the piece ended, Theron sat back hollowly on his rock, eyes glittering. I got up, rested his cello gently on its side, and held him for a long time with the endless surf pounding away at our ears.

On the other six days of the week, I rarely left the building that housed my flat and Flourish and Blotts. Medea did all the grocery shopping, and I always did all my present-buying at Flourish - the employee discount fit my budget.

Christmas came and went. I ventured out of the flat with Medea to have dinner with my parents. My father had returned to work, but in a different capacity: he had abandoned his old position as a Hit Wizard and was now training to be an Auror. All he could talk about were the intrigues and dark clouds that surrounded the oldest of the "pure-blood" families, especially the Malfoys. As I had not forgotten what Theron had told me about Andronicus Malfoy - how could I forget? - I had no desire to listen to it for an instant longer than necessary. My parents had changed, or I had changed, and as Maimonides was at school for the holidays on Professor Dumbledore's request, I was very glad when Medea ushered me out of their house, knowing that I was about to explode. She had been shocked when I had told her about everything, but not surprised; there weren't many people in the wizarding world that didn't know that the Malfoys had been involved in dark magic for years.

Theron had told me that Hogwarts was in virtual lockdown: no one could enter or leave except by one fireplace that was constantly guarded by surly goblins. Prefects and teachers walked all students to and from classes. When the students who went home for Christmas left the school, Hit Wizards came and flanked the path to the train station, with two wizards to every compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Professor Dumbledore was not happy about having the Hit Wizards there, but he let it go - in my mind's eye, I could see his face darken as he thought about what had happened to Iona Westhaven and what had almost happened to me.

I was very careful to only send innocuous messages to Maimonides at school. As he was passing information to Professor Dumbledore, and I was now seeing Theron, I couldn't talk to him more than cursorily for fear that our correspondence might be overheard. It was rough - I usually wrote to Maimonides once a week, and I could tell that my letters were getting more and more vapid. If I could tell, he certainly could tell - and so could anyone else. I didn't think, though, that anyone had been monitoring our letters, but one never knew, especially these days.

So time passed. I worked at Flourish during the day, hid in my flat at night, and escaped to meet Theron on Sundays. It became a regular routine - too regular. One day in the middle of January, I was feeling generally discontent. The weather was nasty, our flat was freezing, and I was recuperating from a rather nasty cold. It took all my self-control to keep myself from snapping at customers. Medea, stocking what we called the "robe-ripper" section - the one with all the novels with pictures of muscular young wizards with aptly placed (and quite thick) wands - pulled me over and told me to go take a break. I was slipping back to the stockroom when I caught sight of a very familiar cloak. A blue cloak with paisley swirls.

I knew Flourish like the back of my hand - Theron was standing in the scientific research section. He had promised me that he would never come into Flourish unless there was an emergency. Hairs prickled on the back of my neck, and I went to do my job as salesgirl.

I approached him and said, "Excuse me, sir, is there something I can help you with?"

He was very careful not to show any signs of recognition - this was something that we had planned on in case something like this ever happened. "Well, miss, I was wondering if I could put this book on reserve - I'm afraid I left my wallet at home."

"Of course, sir." I took the book he was holding from him, being sure to note the page that he had stuck his index finger in. "What name should I reserve it under?"

"Thaddeus Drake," he said.

"All right, Mr. Drake. Thank you."

He bowed to me and left, cloak swirling about his calves as he strode down the aisles. I immediately went to the stockroom, ensured that I was alone, sat down, and opened the book to the page that Theron had had his finger on.

He had slipped a note in there:

M--

I'll be waiting in your apartment after you get off work. I have some bad news.

-T

I stared at the note. I got off work in an hour, but business was slow today, and I could beg off, pretending that I was more ill than I actually was. I decided that that's what I would do, and I found Medea and told her something to that effect. She nodded, and I raced upstairs on the spiral staircase in the stockroom.

I charged in through the kitchen and skidded to a stop in the front room. Theron was pacing around in front of the fireplace, and I noticed that he had pulled down all the shades on the windows. "Theron?" I couldn't see his face.

He came over and hugged me tight, taking my breath away. I pulled back. "Theron?"

His hand found mine, and he said, "Dad needs you at Hogwarts immediately."

I felt a chill steal over me. "What's going on?"

"Maimonides."

The chill grew larger. "What about him?"

"He's...ill."

"Ill?"

He said, "He's been poisoned with the same sort of stuff your father was hit with." Seeing my alarm, he quickly said, "He's out of danger."

"But how...?"

Theron said, "Grindelwald has breached the school. He managed to take a few second-years, but your brother put up a marvelous fight. He was walking the Gryffindor second-years to class when Grindelwald just popped out of a Bosch painting and started blasting. That corridor is apparently in very bad shape - scorch marks all over the place, portions of the wall down. Most of the second-years managed to escape because Maimonides held him off, but then Grindelwald hit him with the poison, and as he fell, Grindelwald snatched the last two." He shook his head, and I shuddered. "At any rate, Maimonides is asking for you, and Dad sent me to get you. He's already sent owls to your parents."

I took a deep breath. I had to go. Maimonides needed me. "Let me get my cloak."

Theron was already rummaging around by the mantle. "Where d'you keep your Floo powder?"

I called from my bedroom, "It should be up there...a small tin dispatch-box..." I couldn't find my cloak, and as I emerged from my bedroom, Theron was already standing by the fire, dispatch-box in hand. "Can't find my cloak," I said, irritated.

In a flash, Theron set down the box and took off his own cloak. He then settled it around my shoulders, straightening the rich fabric and finally letting his hands come to rest on my upper arms. "Minerva...I think this is it."

"What is it?" Things were moving so quickly...

"Well...Dad is preparing to move against Grindelwald."

I was shocked. "What?"

"He's going after Grindelwald. He can't be far. As soon as Dad got word of the attack, he immediately repaired the holes so Grindelwald can't get out except by Floo...and neither can anyone else. You can only get in."

I pulled the folds of his cloak closer around me, cold. "So I'm going right into a fight?"

He looked at me gravely. "Could be."

"Will you...will you be with me?" I hated sounding like a weak female, but I was scared.

Theron stared at the darkened window. "No."

"I...I don't want..."

"Minerva, try to understand!" He sounded anguished. "I'd give my...I'd do anything to be at Dad's side right now, much less yours...but I'm on the run. We succeeded yesterday in reconstructing Iona Westhaven's memory, and when questioned, she confirmed that Andronicus Malfoy is Grindelwald's main backer...and now Malfoy is out for my head. Sherrinford Shiftlet confirmed it for me this morning." Sherrinford Shiftlet ran one of the most notorious shops in Knockturn Alley. Theron noted my surprise and said with a brief half-smile, "Oh, yes. Sherrinford is quite firmly entrenched on our side - but don't let that get out."

"Where will you go?"

"Anywhere and everywhere. Dad has asked me to lead him a merry old dance all over the Isles - everywhere but Hogwarts. Malfoy has minions, yes, but not enough to send them both after me and to Hogwarts to aid Grindelwald. And Andronicus Malfoy wants to do all he can to keep his name from being tarnished..." He got a resolute look on his face. "Dad...Dad will send me word once things are clear." I could see in his face that he refused to believe that the outcome would be anything other than his father emerging victorious. "You'll be careful?"

I put my arms around him, listening to his heartbeat. We settled in against each other, allowing ourselves a brief moment of respite from the coming storm. I said, "I'll be as careful as you will."

He smiled down at me. "Then you'd best take excellent care of yourself, Minerva-girl."

That little endearment gave my fright-frozen heart the warmth it needed to push off. "Be safe, Theron."

"I will." He smiled at me, those blue eyes not-quite-sparkling. "Go on, now."

I opened the dispatch-box, took a handful of Floo powder, and threw it into the fire. "Hogwarts!"

And with one last look at Theron, I gathered his cloak about me and strode into the fire.