Minerva McGonagall felt something tickling her forehead and tried to raise her hand to scratch at it, but something around her wrist denied her the relief she craved. She slowly opened her eyes, only to hastily shut them again and turn her head aside as the bright light from the midday sun caused her head to throb. Whatever had been tickling her ceased, and slitting her eyes, she craned her neck to see what had trapped her arm.
Her brown leather satchel was twisted around her wrist tightly, even knotted in a couple of places. Untangling it with her other hand, she sat up and groaned in pain as the muscles in her back protested. Ignoring the satchel for the moment, she gazed around her in surprise at the idyllic scene. Green trees, swaying gently in the freshening breeze, backed the dry-stone wall about thirty feet from her. She was sitting in a grassy meadow laced with buttercups and daisies. She heard something buzz past her ear, and noticed small fliesâ”Minerva guessed now that they had been what disturbed herâ”alighting on a molehill nearby.
A momentary panic ensued, but she assuaged it by patting her pockets until she located her wand. She pulled it out, drawing comfort from its ready availability as she laid it close by. The sound of a river flowing somewhere beyond the wall tugged at strands of her memory, but the thoughts shied elusively away when she tried to work out why it all felt familiar. Grabbing the satchel, she flicked open the brass clasp and opened it, hoping for some clue as to how she had come here.
At the top of her bag, she found the tartan scarf she wore often, particularly when in England. Beneath that, she shoved aside a red leather bound book by Schlossmann and pulled out a clean handkerchief. Dabbing the sweat from her brow, she stared at the next item, almost disbelieving. A Time-Turner. She knew how hard the Ministry worked to control access to them, and yet here one was, stuffed into her satchel. Now she knew that the reason was important, even if she still had no idea why she was here.
The only other item found that wasnât part of her normal bag contents was an old parchment map. She quickly established, though, that the map had no place names, and none of the physical geography meant anything to her. At a loss, she pushed the satchel off her lap and twisted onto her knees, moving to stand up. A flicker of white caught her eye though, and she spotted a corner of parchment sticking out from the book, as if marking a page. Pulling it out, she unfolded it and saw, in a familiar hand, a letter with her name at the top. She scanned it quickly, but one name stood out immediately.
Dumbledore.
It was always Albus Dumbledore.
Muttering inaudibly to herself, she refolded the letter and stood, brushing the dirt from the back of her black skirt with her hand. She replaced the letter in the book, and crammed both back into her bag along with the map. Picking up her wand, she looped the chain of the Time-Turner around her neck, and dropped it inside her blouse, shivering slightly as the cool metal slid down her chest.
Turning, she stared out at her surroundings, looking for the village she was tasked with investigating. Over the nearby wall was the river she could hear, and beyond that a forest that seemed to stretch and blend, carpeting the land until it gave way to a distant range of mountains. To her left and right were more fields, some with crops, othersâ”like the one in which she layâ”clearly used for grazing. Another small wall bordered the far end of these fields, the one gap being guarded by a stout gate, through the struts of which Minerva could see the beginnings of a small track.
She made her way over to it, picking her way carefully between molehills and sheep droppings, wishing she had thought to wear more practical shoes. Her black leather ankle boots did fine in town or city, but were definitely not made for country wear. After briefly contemplating climbing the gateâ”her shoes put paid to that idea as wellâ”she slid her wand from her pocket and whispered, âAlohomora.â
Stepping through, she wondered which direction to take, but found her decision surprisingly easy. Several hundred metres away, down the track to her right, was a small cluster of buildings that had been hidden from her original position by a small copse of trees. Smoke rose from one of the thatched houses, and spying these made her realise that in travelling back in time, she might need to adjust her attire before attempting to move openly within the village.
Deciding to get a better look at what passed for normal in the village, she cast a quick Disillusionment Charm on herself and strode evenly down the lane. Coming level with the first building, which was clearly a house of sorts, she saw the first human presence of her mission. A short, blonde woman stood at the door, obviously watching the village street for something. Minerva breathed a sigh of relief at having been rewarded so quickly with the information she needed, and ducked back behind the womanâs house to transfigure her clothing.
Minerva allowed herself a slightly smug smileâ”transfiguration had always been her speciality. She was still under her Disillusionment Charm, but this time wearing a voluminous white skirt and flared black jacket above her slightly modified black boots. She stepped out into the street, and almost tripped over a small boy as he ran towards the house where the woman waited. Cursing herself mentally for her inattention, she forced herself to pay better notice to the task in hand.
Down the street, she saw a man step out of a doorway. She froze. Things had just become a lot more complicated. She recognised that man, and he was the last she would have expected to find here. Knowing that she had not been noticed, she sank back to the corner of her building to observe him.
His familiar gait took him down the street, away from her hiding place. She was still in a state of shockâ”she had expected to encounter others on a similar quest to herself, but not someone she had seen at school only a year or so before. She watched him turn a corner and disappear from view.
Deciding that whatever had piqued his interest had to be worth investigating, she dropped the Disillusionment Charm and set out for the building he had emerged from. As she neared it, she began to feel the presence of a strong ward around the building. A Muggle-Repelling Charm, most likely, she thought to herself. Silently dreading what she might find she pushed the door open, wand in hand; then stopped short, looking through in astonishment. The room beyond was an almost exact duplicate of the Leaky Cauldron in London.
Stepping inside, she took in her surroundings. The long counter was quiet, no one obviously behind it, and only one of the stools was occupied, though its tenant was clearly there for the long term with his head laid on the bar emitting regular snores. The small tables scattered around had a haphazard look, as though they were moved often and never properly replaced, and the seats were all slightly grimy. She moved to the table that seemed to have less dust than the rest, and pulled a chair out, grimacing slightly and brushing it with her sleeve.
âWhatâll you have, dear?â said a voice from the counter. A small woman had appeared and was now eyeing her suspiciously, one hand draped loosely over a butterbeer tap, the other somewhere beneath the counter. Minerva had to stop herself from staringâ”the woman even looked a little like Doris Dodderidge, the current proprietor of the Leaky Cauldron.
âA gillywater would be lovely,â said Minerva, hoping to put the woman at her ease. She needed to know more about the tavernâs previous visitor.
âHave a seat. Iâll bring it right over.â The woman busied herself behind the bar and Minerva followed the instruction, placing the seat back down after a final brush and settling herself into it.
In short order, she had her drink placed before her, and after having dug out a few Sickles to cover the beverage, she found herself along once more, with the innkeeperâs injunction to shout on her in the kitchen if she needed attention thrown back over a hastily departing shoulder. Slightly disappointed at the abrupt departure, Minerva took a sip of her gillywater and sighed in pleasure. Raising her glass again, she began to take a longer draught.
âWell, look what the Kneazle dragged in?â drawled a voice from behind her.
Spluttering slightly, Minerva tried to retain her dignity as she returned her drink to the table. âAvery,â she stated coolly, âfancy meeting you here.â
âCome now, Minerva,â said Avery as he stepped past her, pulling out the other seat at her table, âSurely thatâs no way to greet an old friend.â
âWe were hardly friends, Terence. More like ⌠enforced acquaintances.â
âWell, at least we kept that Ravenclaw twosome out of trouble more often than not. Honestly, without us patrolling theyâd have been caught by Pythoras more than once,â he said, looking around at the bar. âSo ⌠do you come here often?â
âYou know perfectly well this is my first time in here,â Minerva snapped, voice icy. âWe are here on the same errand, Iâm sure. Iâm just surprised you turned out to be working for him.â
âHim? Oh, Grindelwald? Come Minerva; give me a little more credit. I agree with some of what he says, but not with his methods,â Avery shook his head. âNo, I have ... another backer.â
âAnother backer? Who is interested in the same items as Dumbledore and Grindelwald? Who?â Minerva questioned, intrigued.
âOh, I doubt you will have heard of him. A Lord Voldemort. Heâs recently come into money, and a title. Wants to broaden his collection with some of our worlds more ⌠interesting antiques.â
âVoldemort?â Minerva questioned, and would have sniggered at the incongruity but for the situation. âIt almost sounds like a name made with letters picked from a hat.â
âYes, it is rather an odd name,â Avery acknowledged, shrugging slightly.
Minerva found herself questioning Dumbledoreâs judgement for almost the first time. He had hinted in her letter that there might be other parties than himself and Grindelwald interested in the hunt, and had said he would much rather see it in the hands of a private collector than the darkest wizard of the age. âSurely your backer would want to see the item destroyed, rather than see it fall into the hands of Grindelwald?â she probed, already half knowing the answer.
Avery studied his fingertips before answering. âNo, I believe he has other ideas about how to get best use from it. He doesnât confide in me though, not by any measure.â
âAnd you wonât turn it in yourself?â
His eyes rose again to meet hers, and she recalled how a single look from him at school could quell any number of rebellious students. She had tried to model parts of her own presence on his, in fact. That stare had come in handy since she had left school. âA man has to make a living somehow, Minerva, and Lord Voldemort is taking good care of my needs.â
Her mouth thinned, unable to forgive the man for his self interest. âWell, it seems we shall be in competition,â she remarked coldly.
âIt does rather seem that way. Now, I have some business with the bartender,â said Avery, standing and pushing his chair back under the table. It seemed a waste of time, given the general state of the tavern room. âIt was good seeing you again, Minerva, even if we are both here with the same goal in mind.â
Minerva stood as well. Now that she had sized up her competition, she was eager to get a head start. Stepping back out into the dusty street, she surreptitiously slid the map out of her satchel. Unrolling it, it made little more sense now that it had when she examined it in the field. There were several small villages marked, but all looked about the same size, with nothing in the way of distinguishing features. Next she flipped open the history text she carried to the marked page, and noted the heading related to a castle, which was marked in the centre of her map. With little else to go on, she slid her wand out of her pocket, muttered, âPoint me,â and picked the direction she considered most likely. If she found nothing after a mile or so, she could retrace her steps and try the next bearing.
The small track she found herself on was bordered on either side by stone walls again, obviously hand built over many years, and on the either side green meadows stretched away from her, one drawing up at the base of the forest she had seen earlier, the other seeming to stretch away by wall and buttercup-filled field to the horizon. She kicked up more dust as she walked and realised that despite the greenery, there hadnât been much rain in the most recent history.
She felt almost out of place, knowing that she was searching for a dark artefact amidst such peaceful surroundings. Though she had gravitated to the wizard pub in the village, nothing she had seen indicated that there was a large magical presence here, andâ”having finished her years at Hogwarts only recentlyâ”she felt almost naked without the comforting blanket of the community she had grown up in. Despite her excellent Muggle Studies marks, she worried that she would find it hard to fit in amongst them if she needed to.
Suddenly, she was jolted from her musings by a flash of black cloth ahead of her down the path and the sharp crack of someone Apparating nearby. Again cursing her inattention, she muttered her Disillusionment Charm again, and threw herself quickly off the track and behind the dubious cover of a gatepost. Hoping she had been quick enough to avoid detection, she looked for the wizard who had caused her alarm, and spotted him immediately. Standing in the middle of the path, dressed all in black and bearing the insignia of Gellert Grindelwald was a tall, blonde man. His wand was held casually by his side and his tanned face wore a sardonic grin as he stared down the path towards her hiding place.
So she and Avery were not the only ones searching.
He didnât appear to have seen her and turned away, starting down the path away from her. Minerva, convinced he was guarding something, decided she needed to move now before he turned back. Silently, she transfigured her satchel into a smaller bag, and slipping it into her pocket she drew herself up and took several deep breaths.
She had been working on the Animagus transformation for over four years now, ever since Professor Dumbledore had spotted her natural grasp of the subject and her eagerness to learn. She strove to recall everything he had helped her with, trying not to remind herself that she had only actually managed the full transformation twice before. With a last look at the blondeâ”he was still moving awayâ”she closed her eyes and concentrated on making her shift.
The Disillusionment Charm dropped; she would have presented an impressive sight had there been a witness. The feeling began in her hands, as it always did. The rest of her body followed: tingling, stretching and altering until she felt herself standing on all fours. Her senses had sharpened: she could hear the birds in the copse far to her right; the small stones between the pads on the base of her paws felt grainy and uncomfortable; and she could detect a faint smell of carbolic soap carried on the wind from Grindelwaldâs man.
Feeling braver despite her lessened stature, she slipped through the gateway and ran through the field alongside the hawthorn hedge. Knowing it would hide her from view, she revelled in the freedom and made several low leaps, landing in a crouch before seamlessly flowing onwards. Reaching the end of the current field, she hopped up onto the dry stone wall to check the position of her adversary.
She was so startled she almost fell back off her perch; he was standing not three feet from her, his dark eyes conveying surprise that seemed to even surpass hers.
âEin Animagus,â he hissed, his eyes now narrowing malevolently, and he began to raise his wand.
Minerva reacted almost without thought. Curbing the instinctual urge to fleeâ”she had found before that the baser reactions of her feline form carried overâ”she leapt forward. The man, not expecting such a bold move, was unable to raise his wand in time. She landed on his face, claws slashing into his cheeks, smelling blood as it spurted forth. She launched herself off him again, shifting form in midair and landed on her feet, wand ready in her hand. The blonde manâs hands had instinctively risen to his face, and were now clapped over his bleeding cheeks as he yelled in pain.
She fired a lightning fast Disarming Charm at him, and caught his wand neatly as it flew through the air. âIncarcerous,â she muttered, watching with satisfaction as thick ropes appeared and wrapped themselves around her target. Knowing there was little more she could do, she levitated his body and dropped him into the ditch on the other side of the track. Casting a quick Silencing Charm, she resolved to return later and attempt to find some way to arrange for his capture.
Shivering slightly as the adrenaline from the fight began to desert her, she turned to continue, now alert and watching for any further sign of Grindelwald.
After several hundred metres the path dipped abruptly, bending down into a valley that was almost hidden until standing right on the cusp. Minerva halted at the top, surveying the scene in front of her. The ruins of an ancient building lay exposed to the elements, the low stone walls beaten by wind and rain to the point where identifying each room of the structure would be impossible.
She knew what it had been though, and knew she had reached her destination. Hopefully, the underground library that had once been housed here would still be intact, not pillaged by looters or Grindelwaldâs men, nor destroyed by some other means. Pulling her shrunken satchel out of her pocket, she restored it to its actual size and pulled out the map. An X marked the spot she would locate the entrance at.
Finding it wasnât hard. Minervaâ”wishing that mapmakers had some originality and would stop using X to mark the spotâ”followed the south wall from the corner for twenty metres, then turned in towards the centre of the ruin. Taking another ten steps, she stopped in what was once a square room, cast her senses out for any sign of a magical ward, and recoiled in surprise. It was complex in a way she had never seen before. She doubted the Gringotts curse-breakers would be able to deactivate it, and they were the best of the best. Luckily, she had the key. Taking the book out of her bag again, she slid the map in under the cover and opened it to the marked page. She familiarised herself with the ritual once again, then returned the book to her bag and gathered her confidence.
âRui Minutum Sanctum,â she intoned, slicing her wand gently across her fingertip and allowing a splash of blood to fall to the ground between her feet. Immediately, the ward receded, rolling back the earth and displaying a downward staircase to her eager eyes. Taking a final look around at the low wallsâ”the one in front of her marked with a scratched circleâ”and uncut plants that littered the ruin, she descended into the dark, lighting her wand as she dropped below ground level.
At the bottom of the set of stairs, she found another leading off to her right. At the foot of those a large wooden door stood. Pushing it open, she gasped in amazement as she was greeted by shelves upon shelves of parchment and tomes, stretching from floor to high ceiling, all dust free and perfectly preserved by whatever spells had hidden the library. Her initial euphoria faded slightly as she realised how long her search might be. âNeedle in a haystackâ didnât even seem to come close to the difficulty she would have in finding the one text she needed.
Suddenly, she heard a sound behind her and spun, wand at the ready. There was no one that she could see behind her, but that didnât necessarily mean she was still alone. She was certain she had heard a footfall at the bottom of the stairs.
âVery impressiveâŚwhat you did to that blonde back there, Minerva,â a voice said from the stacks to her right, clearly amused. âYou never mentioned you were studying to become an Animagus.â
âAnd why exactly would I have told you, Avery?â Minerva spat back, searching to spot him amidst the shelves. She heard another footfall, and turned again.
âIâm hurt that you trusted me so little. And somewhat amazed that no one in Slytherin managed to get an inkling of it.â
Minervaâs lips twitched, an expression of satisfaction forming. âIâm good at hiding things. And finding things, too.â As she spoke the words, she was already spinning, firing a Stunner between the gaps in the shelves behind her. The result was a muffled oath and a crash as Avery bounced off a rack of scrolls, spilling several wax sealed missives onto the floor.
âMerlin! Minerva, calm down! Iâm not here to fight,â he protested, dropping whatever enchantments he was using to defeat her eyes.
She strode towards him, her wand trained at his chest. Her glance flickered over his body, noting the dirt on his boots andâ”with some satisfactionâ”the rip in his cloak, which had clearly occurred as he fell backwards into the scrolls. A glitter of gold caught her attention, and her eyes were drawn to a thin golden chain disappearing beneath the neck of his robes.
âHow did you get a Time-Turner?â she questioned incredulously, her wand now furiously directed between his eyes. âAnd how did you know where to find me?â
âWell, from my employer, of course. He has a lot of connections for this sort of thing,â Avery said, his brown eyes watching her wand hand apprehensively. âAnd as for finding you, well, that was easy once we had thisâŚâ
âWait! Keep your hands away from your robes!â
âOkay, okay, you get it out,â he said, rolling his eyes, âbut I did tell you I wasnât here to fight. Left side, open the envelope.â
She moved closer, carefully watching his wand hand, and reached down to pluck the envelope from the folds of his robe. Opening it, she pulled out a sheet of paper that looked hauntingly familiar.
âButâŚâ she managed, unable to hide her shock. The letter was an exact copy of the one she still had within her satchel; she was sure of it. In fact, even the tear in the top right corner was identical...
Her eyes fell back to the Time-Turner he wore, and she began to understand. She swore, cursing the stupid act she had yet to commit. âYou meanâŚâ
âYes. My employer found this letter, which you so helpfully left here after this visit. He sent me back in an attempt to obtain the information.â He shifted slightly on the ground, causing another scroll to roll off him onto the floor. âSo, can we put silly house differences behind us and search together? It will go much more swiftly, and all my employer wants is for me to see the scroll. After that, you can take it back to Dumbledore, or sell it if you prefer.â
Aghast at the second suggestion, she regarded him coolly for a second, then slowly lowered her wand.
âWe can cooperate for now, I suppose. After all, this is too much to search in any reasonable time. But firstâŚAccio Wand!â Minerva said with a satisfied twist to her voice. âWe may have to work together,â she said, talking over Averyâs protests, âbut I still donât trust you much, and Iâd rather not take any chances.â
She pocketed his wand and gestured him to his feet. He still looked a little dazed from his fall and was swaying slightly, but she refused to allow herself any concern for him. She had a mission to carry out. âSo, what information do you have about how to find it?â she queried.
He focussed on her with a little difficulty, but once his dark eyes locked with hers, none of the intensity was dimmed by his lack of coordination. âAll that Lord Voldemort told me was that it could be located around in the shelves to the right of the door.â He brushed his hair back, and shook his head slightly as if to clear it. âAnd that it would be on the bottom two racks.â
âLetâs get started then. Even with that information, we have a lot of searching to do, and Iâd rather not be here if one of Grindelwaldâs men finds the one I disabled earlier.â She moved over to the indicated racks, and motioned with her wand. âYou start at that end, and we can work our way down until we meet in the middle.â
He complied without complaint, causing Minerva to feel slightly apprehensive. Positions reversed, she doubted she would have given in so easily. She kept an eye on him as she turned to her task, pulling out the first scroll and almost instantly discarding it.
An hour later, she pulled out a yellowed parchment, glanced at it once, and then threw it disgustedly back onto the shelf. They had searched mostly in silence to that point, occasionally conferring on languages they knew the other had a better grasp of. Once or twice, a stray comment about their time at school had escaped from one or the other, and a shared grin recalled their occasional study sessions in the library.
Avery rose, knuckling his back and stretching. Taking a bottle from his bag, he drank deeply and offered it to her. âWater?â
âThank you,â she said, taking it and bringing it to her lips. The liquid was wonderful after so long in the dry library, and she gulped down a couple of mouthfuls before returning the bottle to Avery.
âAny luck?â he said, rhetorically.
âNothing,â she muttered, glad of the interruption even though the question was a waste of breath. âJust a dozen treatises on Goblin rebellions.â
âMaybe we should take Binns home a parcel,â he said, with a wry grin.
Her lips twitched as she tried to restrain a smile again. âAye.â She moved back to the shelf she had been searching, her hand running down the spine of another book as she read the title.
âStill, I would rather have the one we need in my hands right now.â
âAs would I, Mädchen.â
She froze at the voice behind her, its accent clearly betraying Germanic origin. Flicking a glance at Avery, she found him looking as stunned as she, but he managed to hold three fingers out behind his back.
Knowing she stood no chance against a trio of Grindelwaldâs men, especially given their advantage of surprise, she turned slowly around to face them, keeping her wand down behind a fold of her robes. Her actions masked the movement of her left hand, which slipped out of her pocket and returned Averyâs wand to him.
He looked slightly surprised, but then narrowed his eyes at the surrounding men. âSo, Grindelwald has finally managed to locate this place?â he questioned, an arrogant twist now entering his voice. âIt took him long enough. Iâve been watching you idiots scrabble around the countryside for weeks now.â He glanced quickly at Minerva. âAnd then one girl from Dumbledoreâs little army beat you to it?â
His tone was beyond arrogant now, scorn permeating every intonation.
The three men, all in matching black robes, glanced at each other. Plainly, more fear and respect was expected when faced with a squadron of Grindelwaldâs best. Then his words seemed to sink in.
âDumbledore? Dieses Mädchen?â
The words sent a slight shiver down her spine. The speaker wore a feral grin, and she knew she would not live long if captured; nor was that time likely to be painless. Then Avery glanced at her pointedly again, and she realised something was coming, something dangerous. He raised his wand and pointed it at the tall man in the centre.
âDiavolo Incendio!â he cried.
The face of their attacker changed suddenly. His wand was still outstretched, but the shield that now sprang forth would do him little good, and he knew it. He tried to twist into Apparition, but he was too late. The eager shapes of the Fiendfyre took him, leaving his final scream to be lost in the roaring flames. His comrades, Minerva saw, fared better; the noise of their Apparition was audible even over the cascading flames. The inferno had reached the far wall now and it turned, roaring back towards them in a wave of writhing, swirling shapes. She gathered the scraps of her composure, and Apparated.
She reappeared at the edge of the village she had left earlier, and sank down gratefully against the wall of the outermost house. She was shaking slightly now, the encounter with magic darker than she had ever witnessed before affecting her deeply. She briefly wondered where he could have learnt such a spell, but did not pay it much heed. It was enough that he knew it, and was clearly willing to use it. If she had needed further proof of their differing morals, she had just received it.
âYou all right, gel?â
Startled, Minerva lifted her head. The woman who had served her in the bar stood over her, a look of concern on her homely features. Pulling herself upwards with the aid of the wall, Minerva nodded. âYes, thank you. Iâve just ⌠seen something I didnât expect.â
âWell, you look a state, dearie. Like youâve been sitting too close to a fire while stoking it.â
Minerva raised her hand to her face and brushed a finger down her cheek. It came away dark with soot and she grimaced. âCould I use your sink to wash in please?â she requested stiffly.
âOh yes. Oh, and Brian said heâd like to meet you.â On seeing Minervaâs bewilderment she added, âThe landlord,â as if that cleared everything up. She led the way to the doorway of the inn, and gestured Minerva through, adding, âJust tell him Perry sent you.â
She pushed open the door and entered, slightly nervous. Unsurprisingly, everything looked much as it had on her previous visitâ”except that there was perhaps more dust, though she wasnât sure how it was possible. An old man was behind the bar now, his thinning white hair poking up in tufts across the top of his head, and a pair of half-moon spectacles resting on his nose. He glanced up as she came in and eyed her interestedly.
âAfternoon lass!â he said jovially, his eyes raking up and down her form once more. âWhat can I help ye with?â
âPerry said you wanted to talk to me. And I would like to wash up, with your permission.â
He leered at her, grin widening. âWe can certainly arrange the washing part, if youâd like to come through.â He indicated the door behind the bar.
She didnât move to follow. âAnd what was it you wanted to say to me?â she said, her voice cold.
âOh, I had a message for you, and a parcel.â He reached under the bar, and pulled out a dark wooden box. He held it out to her.
Taking it from him, she turned it in her hands and opened it. A shimmering sight met her eyes, and as she realised what it was the bartender leaned towards her and gruffly whispered, âTwo turns should do the trick.â
Her own eyes widened in shock. How did heâŚ
But then she realised that she held the means to reach the yellow parchment she had casually tossed aside earlier as she attempted to convince Avery it was worthless. The origin of the second footfall on the stairs became clear. She wondered how she had missed the fact that it was one of Dumbledoreâs signs that had adorned the wall opposite the steps down into the library.
She raised her eyes towards the innkeeper again, but he was gone. She looked around, confused, but then shrugged her shoulders and pulled the Invisibility Cloak over herself. She would be successful now. In some things, she admittedâ”if only to herselfâ”seeing the future could be useful.
The world changed once more as her slender fingers spun the golden hourglass.
A Stitch In Time by Shev
Chapter Notes: Gauntlet V Entry
Many thanks to Ron x Hermione/Lindsey for her fabulous work in making this fit for public consumption!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------