Disclaimer: JK owns HP

1989

Chapter 26

The spinning seemed to last an eternity as the snake's venom continued to course it way through her veins. The pain that second bite had caused was almost blinding, and it took every ounce of Hermione's strength to hold onto the portkey. It felt as if her entire arm was on fire, and she had to grit her teeth together to stop herself from screaming.

It wasn't until the familiar white linen of the hospital wing's curtains came into focus minutes later that she realized the portkey had finally landed. How she had made it back without any snakes tagging along through another bite was a complete miracle. She only hoped that she hadn't dropped any of her last minute souvenirs mid-travel.

With shaky arms, Hermione set the bundle of books in her arms onto the stone floor beside her before checking the fresh bite on her inner forearm. The lancehead's fangs had ripped through the sleeve of her sweater, but the blood had caused the torn fabric to stick to the wound.

Unable to properly assess the damage, she gently slipped the woven fabric up her arm; wincing as the material was peeled away. The sight of her mangled arm underneath almost had her throwing up for the second time that day. Not only was the wound already oozing puss and leaking gobs of thick blood, but some of her skin had disintegrated completely. The remaining flesh that was left had turned a sickly green, and she knew that another dose of her antivenin was needed immediately.

With the hand of her other arm, she fished the pouch with the two remaining potions back out of her pocket, and grabbed the vial on the left. She gulped the liquid down as soon as it had been uncorked with her thumb, before collapsing backward onto the floor.

She coughed and sputtered as the ashy liquid worked its way down her throat. With little energy left, she considered letting herself pass out there in that very spot. It was tempting to close her eyes and let herself just drift off, but the logical part of her brain worried that if she did she wouldn't wake up again. She had lost a lot of blood and the antivenom could only do so much.

Just as she was battling consciousness, a familiar bearded figure came into view; hovering over her. She wasn't sure how long he had been there, or if he even knew to heal her the rest of the way, but it was a relief just to know that she wasn't alone anymore.

Unable to fight sleep off any longer, Hermione succumbed to her exhaustion; barely hearing the whisper of, "You're going to be alright Miss Granger," before it took her.

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When she finally awoke it was dark outside. Once again, it took her a moment to realize where she was; the dim lighting making it hard to see. It was the crisp white drapery panels and bed linens that reminded her once more that she was in the hospital wing. Still groggy, Hermione wiped the sleep from her eyes and pushed herself up into a sitting position; stretching as she looked around.

It appeared she had been moved from the floor, and onto one of the nearby beds. She was also now clad in one of the hospital gowns, with the sleeve of her left arm rolled up to her elbow. A long strip of white gauze had been wrapped around her forearm where the bite had been, and she had a sudden urge to undo it; curious to see how much it had healed over the past few hours. Though she couldn't feel any pain at the moment, she wasn't sure if she'd been given anything for it while she slept.

Still curious about her other injury, Hermione reached inside the collar of her gown and pressed her fingers gently against her shoulder. She could feel where another large bandage had been taped over that bite mark too. Now that she knew they had both been tended to, she decided to assess how bad the damage was, Hermione fumbled with the spell-o-tape keeping the gauze together before carefully unwinding the strip of fabric from her arm.

When the bandage fell away, she saw a much smaller, much less oozy version of the bite she'd received earlier. There were still two predominant holes from where the fangs had struck her, but the flesh was starting to repair itself, and her skin was now an irritated red color rather than a sickly green.

If she had to guess, either Dumbledore or Madam Pompfrey had applied a vast amount of dittany to it along with a dose of blood replenishing potion. She felt a bit like her boyfriend's father at the moment; during the holidays of her fifth year, when he'd been bit by the very snake she was trying to figure out how to destroy.

The thought of Nagini had Hermione's mind scrambling once again; reminding her she needed to find her bag and the books that had been hiding in that final drawer. She needed to know where they had been placed after she had passed out, and she needed to start studying them as soon as she could.

The large double doors at the entrance to the infirmary creaked loudly as they opened suddenly; causing Hermione's attention to be drawn to the tall figure entering the room rather than to the location of her belongings or her mission.

"Oh good." Dumbledore said as he approached. "You're awake. I was just coming to change your bandages once more for the night, though I see you've already given me a head start." He gestured to her still uncovered bite mark.

"Yes, sorry." She muttered as she glanced at her marred flesh again; noticing for the first time that the fangs had pierced between the first o and the second d of the word mudblood. She was sure her scar was going to look even stranger after this. "I was just curious about what happened after I passed out."

"Curiosity is not necessarily a bad thing." He said as he brandished a few different vials from the top drawer of the nightstand, and sat upon the stool at her bedside. "Hold out your arm please?"

Hermione held her wrist out, palm up as requested, and he began to slather a few drops of dittany onto the wound. When that was done, he followed it with a mysterious yellow potion, and finally a grey paste.

"By the glance I took of the belongings you returned with, I'll take it your trip was a success?" He asked as he began to wind a fresh strip of gauze around her arm.

"I didn't get a good look at anything in particular, and I had to leave rather quickly after the protection orb failed me." She explained. "But I think so. I acquired a lot of items and books that will take some time to get through. I just hope it was enough."

Dumbledore finished her arm and moved on to administer the same potions to her shoulder bite. "When you are up for it, I put everything in the bottom drawer of the nightstand. I have to say, those leather bound journals look especially promising. They appear to be from the early twelfth century if I had to guess." He speculated as he taped a new bandage over the bite on her shoulder. "I know they hadn't been discovered in this time originally, but such an interesting find has me curious. Maybe once we catch up to your time I could take a look at them myself."

Hermione froze when she realized what he had asked. The knowledge that she'd be returning to a time when he was long dead resurfaced, and caused her face to read like an open book to the secrets of her past.

"S..sure." She finally stuttered after a long pause.

Though she tried to recover and act normal, the damage had already been done. By the look in his eye, he knew the fate that would become him in only seven years time.

"Or maybe you could hold onto them and donate them to a museum when you return." He suggested in an attempt to change the subject.

Hermione nodded solemnly. "To satisfy your curiosity, the items actually belonged to Salazar Slytherin." She played along, though her thoughts drifted to a similar place that they had been in that morning. "I'm sure any wizarding museum would be happy to take my findings."

"Though I find that fascinating, I shall ask no more about it." He replied as he stood from the stool. "It will do neither of us any good for you to spill secrets I needn't know anything about."

"Sorry, sir." She apologized. "You're absolutely right."

"I'm leaving you a sleeping draught for tonight, and you'll need another round of medications in the morning." He changed the subject again. "I'll have Poppy administer them. You should be able to return to your dormitory after."

"Of course." She replied, realizing he was going to distance himself from her after this. "Thank you for helping me today."

"You are most welcome." He bowed his head to her. "Good night."

As the old headmaster walked away, Hermione's mind continued to flash back to the night he died. She knew she wasn't supposed to change anything; knew that it would disrupt her timeline and possibly stop this day from ever happening to begin with, but for some reason she couldn't help but speak up. Letting the one man, who's survival could help Harry's cause the most, die all over again seemed wrong. Somehow she felt the consequences just might be worth it if she could save him.

"Professor!" She called out after him.

"Yes Miss Walters?" He stopped and turned to face her again.

Before she could stop herself, she called out the simplest warning she could think of. "Professor Snape isn't who you think he is."

Dumbledore paused for a long while; staring her down as he pondered what she meant by that.

"No Miss Granger." He finally spoke. "Professor Snape isn't who you think he is."

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