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: Sorry for the delay all! Chapters will come much faster now, promise!

I'll Give You All My Futures

Chapter 4: The Man to Save

"You sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve." - Ginny Weasley

February, 2003

Hermione sat poring over records in the small room that she had designated her study. Ron was coming to visit later in the day. She hated that she was still fretting over what he would think of her surrounded by books again. Twisting her ring around her finger, she stood, leaving the mound of papers on her desk and went to the shelves on the wall.

She had thought the idea quite brilliant, if she did say so herself. Each shelf was spelled to link to a separate wizarding library, though they had been quite bare lately. London had the greatest accounts of the War and she had been pouring through them. The shelf was nearly full. Tapping her lip with her wand thoughtfully, she tapped two of them, sending them back to their shelves in WWL of London.

Taking another sheet of paper with her tightly written list of events, she spelled it so it stuck to the wall. Already, she had quite a timeline. The War she had detailed as much as she could, from the notes that she found to her own memories. Finding something that could be significant enough to rip time in a mess that was that war was almost impossible. Mainly because it could have been anything. The ceremonial burial of an empty casket. Staring blankly at the wall, she remembered the face in the mirror. But it couldn't be...

Trying to think of all the things she would have liked to change, people she might have saved? They were accounted for in the past, which meant that they weren't in the present, and couldn't be in the present. She could even reference her experiences in third year for that. "Nothing can be changed because anything a traveler does merely produces the circumstances they had noted before traveling," after all. Looking back to her stacks of notes, she couldn't help but notice discrepancies in recent events. They seemed unnoticeable, but they were there. And as she had noted, these were what she would have to look for.

She would have to start the next phase of her research though, consulting runes. She was sure there was an Arithmantical equation she could use to narrow it down further to a specific instance and time...

A popping sound from the living room made her jump. Her stomach twisted abruptly as she looked about her and she contemplated hiding the evidence of her research. Resolved though, she refused. If they were going to have a bloody row about her reading, there were going to be problems.

"Hermione?" a voice called.

"In here," she said as she stood, walking towards the living room, a half-smile on her face.

Walking over to him, she ran her hands through Ron's hair, smoothing the half that was sticking up smooth. He caught her hand as she was pulling it away and kissed it. Since becoming an Auror with Harry, Ron had matured quite a bit. There was a strength there that had been missing for so long. Once he had come back to them, that fateful year, it had shown through and stayed.

"Smells like books," he said, wrinkling his nose, "I thought the Ministry let you have the day off to attend Lovegood's little fling."

"They did," Hermione said, rather thinking that her superior, instead of doing her a favor, had meant to punish her for some unknown fault. "Remind me to thank Harry and Ginny for suggesting the idea to him with Neville's new breed of Snapping Dragons."

She snatched her hand back.

"Hermione, I didn't mean anything by it," Ron said.

"I know Ron, I know," she said, absentmindedly playing with a lock of her hair that had come free from the tight confines.

Suddenly he mischievously grinned, "You know, I never liked you getting mad at me, but after the make-up sha-"

"Ron!" she cried indignantly, her face flushing as she turned away.

The last time that he had rolled his eyes at her reading in bed she had snapped. It had never been anything big, but the little things had added up and she had just snapped. Kicking him out of her bed, she had made him Apparate back to the Burrow taking nothing but what he was wearing: boxers and one sock. He had finally apologized profusely, and with what she had guessed was a script written by Molly Weasley, and she had let him come back the next night.

"Seriously though Hermione," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "Have you thought about it?"

Hermione stifled a sigh. They had been having the official "moving in" talk for over a week now. Even though Ron spent nights over and technically had his own space and his own drawers, she couldn't bring herself to let that extra step and let him live with her. For the most part, she loved having him over and loved him when he was over, but she was still resisting. At least for now.

"Not tonight Ron," she said, letting him hug her tightly as he heard in her voice just how tired the extra research had made her as she relaxed back against his chest.

"Mione, I know it's soon, especially after… you know. But we are engaged, I think they would understand."

Hermione swallowed hard and immediately tensed. She hadn't even been thinking about them, and now that doubled and trebled her guilt. Especially when she coupled it with all that she had been doing today. Her mind had skipped them over. As if saving her parents' lives hadn't been important enough for her to cause a rip in time over. She looked up and swallowed hard again.

Her parents had been killed in an attack almost six months ago now. Their house had been found destroyed on the inside. They had never found the bodies. The thought of her parents as bodies made a silent sob jerk her body for an instant. How could she not have thought about them? Her mother's face swam in front of her eyes and suddenly she was crying.

Pulling away, Hermione walked calmly into the kitchen, her eyes still streaming tears. She felt Ron trailing behind her. Walking into the kitchenette, she put a kettle on, the Muggle way, her mother's way. It felt good doing it like that now. Like she still had a piece of her to hold on to, even though she wanted to fall apart. Taking a hand towel from the rack, she wiped at her face. She didn't want to break down in front of Ron like that. It wasn't his fault.

"It's okay to cry you know," Ron said from the door frame separate kitchen from living room.

Hermione nodded, the lump in her throat still too big to speak around. She coughed.

"I-I know Ron, it's just. I can't let it get to me. I can't explain it. Then they win twice," she finally said as the kettle began to whistle.

"I'll be in the front room if you need me," he said before turning and leaving.

Hermione set the kettle to the side after she poured the steaming water into the mug with her bag of black tea. Letting it steep, she made her way to the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she took a deep breath as her back thumped softly against the wood. Sliding down the closed door until she was a small ball on the floor, Hermione cried, sobbing silently into her knees.

March, 2003

"It's really quite extraordinary," Poppy said with a smile. "They've been appearing since, oh I'd say since the students returned from Christmas. We were getting desperate, so it was like a miracle."

Hermione had been questioning professors around Hogwarts as well as others who worked at the Ministry. Since she had elected to have her Saturdays off when she had first started working for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, she had decided to visit Madame Pomphrey. She would have had the best insight on things happening in the castle that were out of place or strange.

"But what kind of potions Madame Pomphrey?" Hermione asked.

"Oh call me Poppy dear, you're not a student anymore," she said with a smile as she bustled to the cabinet to show her. "I had originally thought that it was Horace you know, but goodness knows that man…" she shook her head. "Besides, the last year I asked him to help replenish my stores. Well, let's just say I had some very stern words for him in reply."

Poppy opened the cabinet, "But there they are, plain as day. It's almost as if…"

"As if what Madame, Poppy?" she asked when she saw the frown on her face.

"Oh nothing dear," she said, quickly dabbing at her eyes. "Just a passing fancy. What have they done now?"

Hermione watched as the nurse quickly hurried over to a student who was almost being carried by another into the ward. If she thought she was right, the leg the one student was dragging was either badly dislocated, or transfigured into something else. Looking away from the students, she looked back to the shelf. All common ailment potions that would be found in the Hospital Wing. Looking in the locked section of the cabinet, she squinted to see the fogged glass. A package of three ingredients together was in the front. Leaning closer, she barely made out the largest line of the label.

"Wolfsbane," she whispered.

It looked like whoever had packaged it had stopped the process all but finished.

"Hermione, look, I can't believe you haven't seen this before," Falcona said, handing her over the paper folded to the article in question.

Hermione spun her chair around to take the paper. Running a quick scan over it she frowned. Normally she tried to keep up to date with the latest developments in almost every magical field, but this one had completely escaped her. It detailed the use of a much more complicated warding system than she had ever come across.

"And before you get completely engrossed," Falcona added, making Hermione look up. "You do know that there's going to be an opening in my department soon, right? You should send in an application, you're more than qualified. And we could use you. You wouldn't believe the disgusting legal jargon and absolute knob heads I have to work with. The reforms need to be spear headed by someone and Merlin knows you're good at that."

Falcona gestured to the numerous S.P.E.W. paraphernalia that Hermione still had, as well as awards for service. Hermione nodded thoughtfully as her eyes returned to the article.

"I was thinking about it Falcona," she absentmindedly said. The use of phoenix properties, she'd never thought. "I filled out the application, I just haven't decided if I'm sending it in yet."

"Well think about it. There are some many laws that still favor purebloods, we could use your brain."

Hermione nodded again. Falcona laughed, seeing how she was already entrenched in her readings. Turning to go back to her level, Falcona was surprised when Hermione called her back.

"How long ago did these articles start appearing?" she asked.

"Hm? You mean the author?" Hermione nodded. "I think about four months ago, maybe five, I can't be certain right now. I have them all actually, if you're interested. Have you heard of him?"

"Ifanis Princeps?" Hermione asked, "No. I haven't heard of him. But it's intriguing."

"Some of his writings are a little… borderline I guess you could say. I'm interested to hear what you think. Originally they were handed off to the Auror's office by an anonymous tip," Falcona nodded at Hermione's raised eyebrows. "You could say that he sees the line as very thin between Black and White I suppose."

Hermione nodded and went back to reading as Falcona turned to go back to her office in Magical Law Enforcement. She was engrossed completely in the article from the beginning to end, her fingers itching to try it as her mind exploded with possibilities. If wards like these had existed… Hastily setting aside the paper, she tried to distract herself before she thought the words, if wards like these had existed, my parents would still be alive.

Back at her London flat, Hermione was once again at work with her research. Her line of floating notes was now quite extensive, covering a wall. Occasionally, she would star one event, scratch out another as being insignificant. All were pointing her to the same direction and she wasn't yet sure she liked it. She sure as hell couldn't understand it, but if it got any clearer her equations would take form and slap her in the face. Either way, she had wanted a bit more confirmation. She had visited Harry in the Auror's office on her way out that day.

"Harry!"

"Mione, what are you doing over here?" Harry said, a wry smile on his face. Two Aurors in front of him waved as they turned the corner.

"I've been looking through some things that have been going on this year. Have you noticed any tips that were odd, or raids that went well, almost too well?" she asked.

"No, not that I can think of," he said frowning slightly as he ran fingers through his hair.

That had made Hermione grin. Ginny had made him get it cut earlier in the year and now Harry continuously ran his hands through it as if he could make it grow back faster.

Even though Harry hadn't noticed anything, she didn't give up hope from that angle. She poured through every Auror report and article that she could get her hands on but she couldn't find anything. The praises from the papers would be expected of course, if the raids or arrests were published at all, but of the details that she had thought would hint at something extraordinary… Nothing. She sighed, pushing papers aside to lay her head down in her arms. How could Lovegood have found something she couldn't? She needed definites, none of this guesswork! Maybe she needed a different approach. She was interrupted from her musings by a voice coming from her living room.

"Hullo Harry," she said with a smile when she saw his face peering out from her fireplace.

The small flat hadn't originally had one, but she had it magically enhanced so that the smoke had somewhere to go. Harry's face looked up from the green flames with a smile as she sat in front of the fireplace.

"Hermione, I was thinking about what you said before. You know, about things going too smoothly? Back in… August I think it was. The raid on Rookwood's hideout in Scotland. We had gotten an anonymous tip telling us when to be there and what to expect. Now that I'm looking back, it did go smoother than I thought it should have at the time, but I didn't question it."

Hermione smiled wider, "Thanks Harry that helps."

"How are things lately, how're things with Ron?" he asked, a strange look on his face.

"They're as good as they ever were I suppose. Why?" Hermione replied, frowning.

"Well, it's just Ron's seemed, err, what I mean is, what's with the new project lately? He said it started after you got back from Lovegood's," Harry said.

Hermione laughed as she replied, "If you must know, I had originally thought to throttle you and Ginny for sending me there, but it was actually more interesting than you would think. I'm just explored a possibility."

Harry winced before asking, "Like what?"

"Just research this year and connecting it with events that happened in the war… Are you alright?" she asked.

"Fine, just fine. I just thought the two of you would have moved in already, you know," he continued as Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"Harry…" she began.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Where are you Flooing from?" she asked, her eyes still narrowed.

"My house, why?" he asked.

Abruptly Hermione stood and Apparated. Seconds later she was knocking loudly on Harry's door. Ginny opened the door, startled. Billowing past her friend, Hermione had just enough time to see a tall individual disappear from next to the fireplace before rounding on Harry, who still had his head in the fire.

"Hermione what's-" Ginny started.

"Hullo Hermione," Harry said, a rueful grin on his face as he sat back.

"You! I can't believe it. You were spyingon me?" she demanded.

"What?" Ginny exclaimed, rounding on Harry also. "What happened? Where did Ron go?"

"Ugh!" Hermione cried, throwing her hands up and turning to Ginny. "Your husband was acting as an agent for yourbrother, trying to get information out of me. This is ridiculous. Ginny, I do hate to impose, but if I get home and find him there, you might have to deal with a house guest. God knows his mother won't take him back when I tell her."

Abruptly she Apparated again, leaving the Potters trading glances. Taking a deep breath, Ginny walked around the couch to sit next to Harry who was still on the floor. Leaning against him, she sighed.

"What's going on Harry?" she asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," he said, scooting back with her until they were leaning back against the side of the couch, his arms around his new wife. "They've had spats before, I'm sure they'll work it out."

Ginny shook her head with a slight chuckle as she said, "And how many times did I say to stay out of it?"

Harry sighed as Ginny laughed louder to ease the sting of the 'I told you so'.

"I do worry about them though. Ron's always been the slow mover," Harry said, pausing when Ginny's snort interrupted him, "but now it's her that's putting the brakes on. If one of them doesn't come to a conclusion, I just don't know what's going to happen."

It turned out that Ron hadn't returned to Hermione's flat and she didn't know if that made her happy or furious. The truth was, she wanted to yell at him. She didn't want it to deflate by the time she next saw him. Pacing furiously in her living room, she wanted desperately to smash something. Only intense restraint kept her violent feelings from becoming violent actions.

She couldn't believe that Ron had coerced Harry into asking her questions. She had said that she wasn't ready for him to move in, why was he pushing?

And Lovegood! She fumed. How could someone so obviously out of touch with reality have found something that she couldn't have seen? What could he possibly have researched that she hadn't touched upon? Even every bit of research she had so far was a guess! And who would she be saving? Who did all of the signs that she had found point to? Not Fred Weasley, though since his ghost made regular appearances in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, causing just as much trouble as when he was alive, she couldn't feel too bad. It wouldn't be Remus Lupin, Tonks, or Sirius, or any other beloved hero or student who had died during the war, but a snarky bastard that everyone had a reason to praise now after his death, but couldn't help but hate during his life. Why? Reviewing the laws of time made her head spin. She was, after all, looking for the evidence of something that she had done after all. That it had been him she was almost certain. All of his bad manners, sarcasm, billowing robes, disagreeable, two-faced, greasy haired... him. Somehow that thought calmed her.

Hermione walked, calmer now, into her makeshift research room. The papers fluttered slightly as she closed the door. A red circle marked the day of the great battle where Riddle fell. She shivered, thinking how close they had all come to death that day. But she knew that she would do it now. She didn't have the exact time of an actual time rip, but all of her calculations, the arithmancy required painted the far wall, included two people. The central figure was her. Strangely two tears leaked free from her eyes as she wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered, looking at the glowing lines that lit up the chalk markings. She would rip time by saving Severus Snape.