Summary: Hermione goes back to the Final Battle to save the one person who she believes shouldn't have been allowed to die, even knowing that she'll be ripping herself from every other timeline. AU from beginning of epilogue on.

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own these characters. The epilogue wouldn't have been in Book 7 if I did.

A.N. (Veronika): More thanks to for beta-ing (any mistakes that remain are my own). And being the inspiration for getting this done through the hectic-ness that is life right now. Sorry to all, this is my craziest month, updates will be more regular come May. Enjoy!


I'll Give You All My Futures

Chapter 9: Awakenings

"Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it." – Albus Dumbledore

May-June, 1998

The day after the battle was uneventful. Snape had barely flinched when she'd lifted the sleeping spell. She'd had enough energy by then to fully heal the wound on his arm, as well as fully heal the wounds on his leg and side. His neck was fully healed with the dittany as well, the skin smooth and completely without scars. The anti-venom had done the trick and his recovery would be much smoother than Mr. Weasley's had been.

As she went over him again, she saw some strange signs with her diagnostic spell, but she attributed them to him still recovering from blood loss. She didn't know the actual intricacies that were diagnostic spell results. She bit slightly on her lip as she looked over him. She'd gone over some of the healing texts that she'd brought with her. By all accounts, he should have been starting to come close to consciousness. Setting a charm to alert her if he was coming to, she went back to her notes that she'd spread out on the table.

She had a journal for every somewhat strange event that she'd found as evidence of things she might have done traveling back in time, as well as some on any reference she'd found to avid time travelers, the history of time travel, as well as healing texts. The most interesting text that she had found had actually detailed why Xenophilius had had the massive Time Turner in the first place. Flipping it open, she reread the paragraphs again.

the Davilius family was not only involved with the study of time, but also with the production of devices meant to aid their studies. They pioneered such devices as the Timeline Discrepancy Detector, the Pivotal Moment Pointer, and Tempocculars, which the Ministry of Magic still uses today to see all events that have occurred in a specific place in any time.

Their fascination with time seems to have originated with Heyman Davilius II. In the late 14th century, he created the first ever recorded time-traveling device, a simple spinning sundial which would transport its user back exactly one day to the same sundial. His grandson, Thomas Davilius, refined the device to be more mobile when, in 1451, he modeled his apparatus after the hourglass. It was several hundred years before anymore refinements were made to the device, but the Davilius family was not idle. In fact, most of the records the Ministry have today on the study of time come from the records of the Davilius family.

In 1650, Maria Davilius Dracona, the only daughter of the prominent Heyman Thomas Davilius III, pioneered a time-traveling device that was able to go back by hourly, instead of daily, intervals. It was her descendent, Lorcan Tempi Dracona, who expanded the time traveling opportunities to include years in 1701. It was at this point that the term "time-turner" was first found. These "time-turners" were crafted by the members of the Davilius and Dracona families, as well as a very tight-knit guild of their respective friends. Their products were sold for exorbitant prices, even in 18th century terms.

Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on who you ask, the Ministry of Magic was also gaining power quickly at this time. In 1720, they used the fear and hysteria brought on by Svren Razorteeth's1 spree to pass the Protection of Time Stream for Magical and Non-Magical Persons Act. This allowed the Ministry to seize all existing time-turners and all materials related to their construction from both buyers and crafters. While it is unknown how effective such ministry raids were, what is known is that those devices and supplies that were seized were sent to storage in the newly constructed Department of Mysteries. Now all such devices are controlled by the DOM and need to be petitioned for and signed out with a pass at the Regulation of Time-Travel Desk.

...

1. This of course is a reference to Ravorteeth the werewolf, who utilized a time-turner to return to previously occurring full moons and infect Muggle and wizard alike at a higher rate than would have been possible if constrained to normal time. He was finally apprehended after 6 months, during which he lived through nearly 12 full moons.

Hermione snorted, collecting time-turners for everyone's safety indeed. That wasn't true now, she thought disgustedly. Putting all of them in the same place had only let them be exterminated easily.

Closing the book, Hermione drummed her fingers thoughtfully on the cover. Luna had been the one to tell her, quite proudly, that she had inherited several of her mother's family's heirlooms, one of which had been a Davilius Time-Turner that had been passed down through their family. It was one of the few unregistered in existence. Luna assured her that at least two of her great-uncle's family had at least one each, including other interesting bits that came from the Davilius family.

"It helped my mother a great deal," Luna had explained. "Her whole family descends from them you know. Their spirit of innovation was one of her greatest inheritances."

Setting To Touch Time: Well-Known Travelers and Their Adventures aside, she frowned. Picking up one of the other texts, she paged through to the red marker that she'd found in it a few months ago.

The Mors Potestas potion , though taking fairly little time to brew, should be taken with extreme caution. Its original and intended use was for wizarding healers or combatants who needed one final push in order to accomplish their goals. Under no circumstances is it to be taken consecutively over long periods of time. If taken this way over three months, there is a chance that the user will slip into a coma in between doses. After four months of the potion's usage, the user will slip into a coma and never awaken. After this state has been reached, the wizard will perish within the week.

Hermione paused in her reading, stood, and walked over to her shelf of potions. Picking up the little bottle, she shuddered. From what she'd read, the withdrawal symptoms were just as nasty. Abruptly her wand buzzed in her pocket and she jumped. Immediately her heart began to pound as she hurried to the tent's bedroom, a shield charm readily formed in her mind, just in case.

As she looked, Snape didn't look different. Even his breathing hadn't changed. Going closer, Hermione still kept a careful distance. A slight hitch in his breathing was the only warning she had before his eyes snapped open. His eyes found hers immediately. A frown flicked across his face before his eyes flittered closed again.

"Of all people," he whispered, letting out a breath.

Hermione was frozen. That was nothing of what she'd expected. She had expected him to snap or yell, maybe even hex or curse her. At the very least, she had expected a trademark sneer. To all appearances though, it looked as if he had only fallen back asleep. Shaking herself, she crossed the small room to the bed, taking his wrist into her hand to take his pulse. She suddenly yelped and reached for his forehead with her other hand. He was burning up. Why hadn't her spell alerted her to that? Because she hadn't set it up for medical alerts, she answered herself. But why was he running a fever?

Panic seized her as she tried running diagnostics again. She wasn't cut out for this. She wasn't a Healer. She could treat him and had treated him because she knew what to expect. Suddenly she felt like a helpless child again as her brain frantically worked. She didn't do well under pressure, she never really had. What if she'd brought him back and saved him only to let him die?

"Stop it!" she hissed firmly at herself. "Get a hold of yourself. You've done this. You just need to figure out the problem."

Going back over him, she still found that the fever seemed to be the only symptom. He wasn't fighting an infection. There had to be something else! Fevers didn't just crop up without cause. And this one was starting to rise dangerously.

"Oh," she said her eyes wide.

Running from the room, jumping the short flight of stairs, she stumbled against the table as her eyes frantically started scanning the page she had just been on.

Hermione had thought it strange that the marker had been in this book in the first place. True, the potion had helped her when she had needed it, but she would probably have been able to succeed without it. She might have had to be more resourceful, but she would have been fine she was sure. But what if including that potion hadn't been to help her directly? What if it had been to show her what to look for? Her eyes scanned the pages until she found the symptoms of use.

Frequent users will eventually begin to build up symptoms similar to jaundice which will only dissipate after the user has been without the potion entirely for a year. Sharp withdrawal from frequent and continuous use however must be treated with care, especially if potion use has continued semi-regularly for over a month.

Making a frustrated noise, Hermione skipped down to the list of symptoms.

and if use has continued to the point that the user has lapses in magical ability or is dependent on the potion for any working magic, weariness will begin immediately in between doses. A fever will immediately begin within 48 hours of the last ingested dose that can last for days, and in the severest, yet survivable cases, for up to a week. Sweating will commence within this period, especially around the face and hands. Body tremors will begin, and unfortunately after the user breaks the fever, body pain accompanied by hallucinations will…

Hermione stopped reading. She had to be sure that this was his problem. Going quickly over to the potion shelf, she grabbed the Mors Potestas and hurried back over to Snape. Popping open the potion, she waved her wand over it with a quickly whispered, aperio similis. She flicked her wand again over his body and sure enough his body lit up. Traces of the potion seemed to be primarily focused in the area around his head and heart, with a light spattering around the rest of his torso and down his arms, mostly his right.

Summoning one of the blankets, she started lacing it with quick cooling charms to help bring his temperature down. Laying a normal blanket over his prone form, she layered the spelled blanket over it.

The sweats seemed to already be starting. If the potions book was anything to go on, she would probably be in for a long week. Checking again, his temperature was rising still, but it seemed to be stabilizing at an acceptable level. Normally there were potions to help combat fevers, but most potions that would help partially relied on the user's own working magic. Those suffering from Mors withdrawal could have little or none to draw on. Administering those potions would only make withdrawal symptoms worse.

Hermione moved one of the kitchen chairs beside the bed. She had spelled the bedside table slightly larger so that she could look over her books and her notes. Her time research she set aside. It was the healing books she poured over now.

Magically caused symptoms were normally dangerous to try and suppress, so she was going to go by the book there. It was only dumb luck that the Blood Replenishing Potion hadn't managed to clash with the symptoms. He still had a low blood count. The fever wouldn't help the healing with that. It would only get worse, and now she was going to have to get fluid in him to help him live through the fever. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she would need to feed him when he started to hallucinate. After she thought about it, she moved to the kitchen.

Hermione had placed several meals into a stasis state with a revised version of a spell that was normally used to preserve potion ingredients. She didn't think that he would be able to eat the high protein diet that she'd stocked, but the broth from the meat would definitely help and would count as a fluid with some nutritional content. Too much of this was based on inferences though. It felt right, but she didn't like following her gut, she liked research. Disgusted with herself, she released the spell over a container of beef stew, the smell and plumes of steam immediately filling the tent. Smiling, she poured some of the liquid into a wide lipped mug.

In the end, Hermione had managed to get him to drink another dose of potion, along with some of the broth. Somewhere in the middle he had started muttering something and she had backed off quickly so she could go for her wand. She wasn't sure if she should have been that paranoid, but she remembered seeing him in a rage before, she had seen him duel before (it certainly hadn't been long enough to forget that) and she had certainly heard stories from Harry too.

A few hours passed as Hermione continued to read and make notes for things that she could use to treat the coming symptoms. The most dangerous was the potential for seizures that would come later. Flicking her gaze up to where he laid on the bed, she frowned. Leaving the room, she returned with a small bowl of cool water and a cloth. His forehead was already beading with sweat, partially because of the fever, but sweats were another symptom entirely. Cleansing charms were fine, but after a point of their use, skin could become dry and cracked. Biting her lip, she sighed.

Setting the bowl beside the bed, Hermione dabbed the cloth into the water, carefully wringing it out. She didn't really know why she was doing this. Snape just looked helpless now. However much of an illusion that might be, she could at least admit it to herself.

He flinched when the cloth touched his forehead and his eyes flicked slightly. That was the only warning she got as his hand shot out from under the blanket and grabbed her wrist. Flinching back, she gasped as her eyes met his which were now clear and wide open. For a beat, they just stared at each other as Hermione's heart pounded. His eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?" he rasped, his voice sounded rougher to her ears than the time she had been in the boathouse, but she wasn't sure exactly why.

Hermione looked confused as she said, "Hermione Granger."

Snape's eyes flickered back and forth between her eyes. Her face was too close for him to see them both at once. The suspicion was so clearly there that she didn't know what to say or do so she stayed frozen. After what seemed an eternity, his gazed flicked to the right where her wrist was clasped in his shaking grip. Releasing her quickly, she stumbled back, rubbing her wrist. For all that his grip had been weak and his arm shaking, he had been able to hold on tightly.

Letting his head sink back into the pillow, he let out a shaky breath, as if even that small action had tired him. Hermione watched him as he brought up a shaky hand, looking at it through hooded eyelids before reaching out and touching his neck. He frowned again with closed eyes as she could practically see him thinking as his fingers traced the skin that had been sliced, then where fangs had pierced.

"Where am I?" he asked, though it came off as more of a statement.

Letting out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, Hermione moved forward again and picked up the cloth from where she had dropped it on the sheet when he had grabbed her.

"We are in a wizarding tent, safe and away from the battle," Hermione replied, replacing the cloth into the basin. "In the Forest of Dean."

His eyes shot open again to stare at her, but she hadn't noticed as she moved around the bed to his right side where his arm was still shaking slightly on the disturbed covers. She moved to touch his arm, but when she saw him tense, she managed to touch only the sheets as she once again moved them and covered him once more. Looking back up to his face, she saw Snape watching her with narrowed eyes and open suspicion.

The clarity in his gaze didn't seem to want to last though as she watched it grow unfocused and he lost a bit more tension in his neck as he relaxed into the pillow. It was a strain, she realized, for him to follow her with his eyes.

"Sir?" she asked.

His eyes flashed again as his head twisted to regard her and sent her heart pounding again. How it was that he still managed to intimidate her while lying prone on a sick bed, was completely unknown to her. Screwing her courage to the sticking place, she cleared her throat.

"Do you think you can drink something sir?" she asked.

"There is nothing you can give me to relieve this…Miss Granger," he said, the pause was greatly exaggerated before her name, for what reason she couldn't guess.

"I meant just water sir," she said, powering forward anyway.

Snape looked like he was going to argue, but she saw his eyes flicker somewhat and he only nodded. Hermione turned to go for the kitchen when his voice stopped her.

"A moment," he said, managing to speak though he looked like he should have been passing out. "A shirt?"

Every word was growing hoarser. Hermione just nodded and moved to the chest at the foot of his bed. Besides his now obvious problem, she had been prepared for almost anything. Buying the clothing had only been slightly awkward. As she pulled a shirt free, she forced herself to not think about it. Laying it next to him, close enough that he didn't have to reach for it, she left.

As she descended the short stairs to go towards the kitchen, Hermione started mentally kicking herself, her cheeks still flushed and heart pounding. The shirt was almost identical to the one she had practically shredded off of him, which meant buttons. His arms had been shaking only moments ago, how was he going to manage them by himself? Still, Gryffindor courage or not, she couldn't bring herself to offer to help when she knew that he would probably refuse anyway. Not for the first time, she found herself wondering why the bloody hell she had done this.

When she reentered the bedroom, she found Snape mostly upright. His entire body seemed to radiate exhaustion, but he had managed to prop the pillows up behind him and button the majority of the shirt. The cuffs let the white fabric spill limp over his hands which were barely a shade darker than the shirt. Even so, he managed to carefully watch her as she walked over with the glass of water. She had taken more time than necessary to allow him privacy for his attempt, and she was honestly shocked at his progress. There was tension around his eyes and the shaking intensified as she neared. She could tell why. His entire body was as tense as a bow string.

Hermione tried to act normal as she tried to hand him the glass of water, but his hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold it. His second came up to steady it, his hands dropping a bit as he took the weight. She was glad that she hadn't filled it up completely, she thought as she carefully avoided watching him as he struggled to sip at it. Making a show of straightening the books and papers that she had set aside on the table, she tried to give him privacy while still being close enough to help if he needed. The silence seemed to be deafening. Frowning, she felt his eyes on her, but when she turned to him he was looking at the cup now in his lap.

"Finished sir?" she asked.

She had been expecting a sneer or at least a comment in reply, but he simply extended the glass and she quickly moved forward to grab it before his shaking let it slip to the floor.

"Do take your insufferable scribbling with you when you go, Miss Granger," he said, with only a hint of his trademark sneer.

Hermione didn't even have it in her to get angry at the quip. Frankly, it didn't even come close to his normal heat. It had been so long though, it was possible her younger mind had only exaggerated it. As she stacked her things to go, she shook her head to herself. She highly doubted it. Looking back at the bed, she saw that his eyes had fallen shut again. There was still a sheen of sweat on his forehead, his eyes still looked sunken, and she knew that it wasn't even close to how bad it might get. Biting her lip, she ran a diagnostic spell over him again. His fever was still raging, but it was also holding steady just under a danger level.

"And due restrain yourself from twitching your wand over me," Snape said, his eyes never opening. "As I said. There is nothing you can do."

"I know," Hermione replied as she tucked her wand into her pocket.

At least she got a response with that. His eyes flickered open and narrowed as he looked at her.

"Mors Potestas withdrawal," she said, holding his gaze in a calm, matter of fact manner.

He scoffed slightly, but the strength and hoarseness of his voice completely took the edge off of his next comment.

"Ever the know-it-all, Miss Granger?" he asked, his voice trailing off as his eyes closed once again.

"Apparently, sir," she replied with a half-hearted grin that he wouldn't see now.

Looking at him, Hermione wouldn't have been surprised if he was already asleep. Sighing, she shook her head and left the room. That had been much…tamer than she had expected. Less dangerous certainly. Originally, she had planned on facing a man that had all of his magical faculties at hand. At least the onset of the fever from the withdrawal had guaranteed that she didn't have to face that side of him yet.

Setting her things down on the table, she sat back in her chair. It was back to research. No matter what he said, there had to be something that she could use to help combat symptoms. The seizures associated with this withdrawal could be deadly, if not permanently damaging because they were normally sever and long in duration. If she saved him to only let a part of his brain die, she knew that it would be for nothing. Propping her head in her hands, she watched the words blur together on the page. She was still exhausted. But she knew that if Snape ended up like a stroke victim with permanent brain damage, she would have to be worried about him dying for the rest of her life and his. She couldn't see a man like him living long like that. Hermione doubted that he would want to, someone who was as fiercely independent as Snape was. She tried not to think like that.

Looking up, she saw that the blankets had been half pulled up, but he looked like he was sound asleep. Staying down the stairs, but never actually climbing them into the room, she set up another alarm to alert her if he woke. Another quick flick gently covered him with the blankets. He didn't stir. Giving herself a moment's indulgence, Hermione watched him sleep. Shaking her head, she turned away. She had things to do.


A.N. Should the next chapter be from Snape's POV? Any thoughts or shall we continue from Hermione's?