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She felt for the lock in the dark, not risking a simple lumos and possibly waking the house. If she did, it would all get so much worse. All she did risk was a quick alohomora once her fingertips finally grazed the cool metal.
The door squeaked as she opened it, halting her movement as she shrank in on herself. Listening intently, she was sure nothing was amiss when the faint snoring from the upstairs bedrooms continued. Sighing in relief, she cast a quick muffliato before finally opening the door.
Only now did she risk illuminating her wand.
At the sight before her, Hermione had a hard time fighting back her tears. There he was, five-year-old Harry.
He looked so small, so fragile. She wanted to scoop him up and take him away. Bring him to her parents so he would know what it was to be loved and cared for.
But she couldn’t.
She had been sent back in time for one reason. Only one. Anything else would be tampering too much with time and who knew what the consequences of that might be?
Hermione knew enough not to risk it - one of the many reasons the Unspeakables had chosen her for this task.
Still, she couldn’t help herself, brushing away the unruly locks of Harry’s hair from his forehead. Now a mother herself, seeing this little boy like this...
A hitch in Vernon’s snoring brought her back to her task.
Pointing her wand towards Harry’s leg, she carefully pulled away the bedding. Suppressing her gasp, she leaned further into the cupboard to examine the damage done. The more she saw, the greater her anger grew. At the world in general. At Dumbledore for leaving Harry in this home for all these years. But mostly at the Dursley’s for doing this to this sweet, sweet boy that one day would become her best friend.
Wiping a stray tear, Hermione set to work, casting all the diagnosis charms over the leg she had learned these past few days. All in preparation for this very task - and maybe more to follow.
When she had been offered the position as an apprentice of the Unspeakables right out of school, she had never dreamed of all that was hidden behind those doors. She was sure even now, seven years later, she still did not know all the secrets of what she liked to call a world-within-worlds behind closed doors.
What had shocked her most, though, was how much the Unspeakables travelled through time. Never changing any big events, no. That would upset the universe. But smaller events.
Like Harry’s broken leg from… ‘falling’ down the stairs.
The Unspeakables had seen an alternate timeline where the wound became infected, leading to a permanent limp of Harry’s right leg.
It would not really influence the future, at least not the bigger events. He would still defeat the Dark Lord. Only, it would not be so… easy. That was the word they used.
Hermione softly scoffed to herself. As if their life - Harry’s life - had ever been easy. But she knew having two healthy legs would be a greater help than one. Carefully reopening the wound with her wand to clean it first, she set the bone back correctly, finishing it off with a few dribbles of Dittany.
Within minutes, little Harry’s leg was as good as new.
Running some more spells over the boy, she healed some other minor injuries, Hermione finally tucked him back in once she was satisfied.
As she looked back up to take off Harry’s glasses - of course, he already had the habit of falling asleep with them on his nose - she found round, green eyes on her, watching intently.
“Oh,” she breathed out, unsure of what to say. No one had ever prepared her for such a confrontation.
“Who are you?” Harry whispered back, not sounding disturbed at all. Rather curious. Oh, this sweet little Gryffindor.
Hermione had to think quickly - and made a decision to soothe some of his mental hurt after all.
Softly running her fingers through his hair, she hushed him with the same soothing voice she did her own children whenever they had a nightmare.
“Shhh, Harry. I’m your Fairy Godmother.”
Harry’s eyes grew impossibly wider.
“Are you here to take me to a better place? Will you take me away from here, please?”
Hermione’s heart burst into a million pieces. And yet, she stayed strong for this little boy, gently caressing his head. “Not yet, my sweet boy.”
“Why?” Harry whined.
“Shhh, shh. It’s not yet time, Harry. But I promise you, it will all be okay. Stay as strong as you are and I promise you. One day, a giant will come; and he’ll take you away to a faraway place, filled with magic, love, and adventure.”
“And friends?” the boy mumbled, eyes already falling shut again, her gentle hands and soothing voice lulling him to sleep.
A soft smile played around her lips. “Yes, Harry. You’ll have so many wonderful friends. And they will be by your side. Always. I can promise you that.”
His only reply was a happy mumble.
For a few more minutes, she raked her fingers through his hair until she was sure he had completely fallen back to sleep. Taking off his glasses, she lay them where they belonged and then leaned over him, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.
“Sleep well, Harry Potter. And remember, you are loved.”
With one last, gentle touch and lingering gaze, she closed the door, putting the lock in place, her heart not as heavy as it had been before. She knew Harry would not remember her in the morning - or else believe her to be a dream - but sure that he would feel lighter in his heart for some time to come. Hermione was glad about a successful assignment.
Looking back at the cupboard one last time, she flicked her wand, whispered “Nox,” and was gone within the next second.