Prologue

Many times during my stay in the Burrow would I think back to those nights at Malfoy Manor. Those nights that existed in between the time before he confessed his love for me, and his most cruel betrayal. There were not many of them- perhaps a month in all, but they were precious to me. Perhaps they were more precious because of their scarcity.

One night I would think of more than others. I had recently bid Cassiopeia goodnight and helped her dress for bed. Draco, as I had begun to think of him though it was far from proper, had promised to find a governess to replace me but I bid him no haste. I had become fond of the precocious girl and was remiss to surrender my position. I had helped her change out of her childish pale blue frock and into a lace-trimmed nightgown, and brushed out her hair, as fair and blonde as his. It made my heart clench to look at her. I wondered with fair curiosity what color our children would wear in their hair- his brilliant blonde, or my drab brown?

"Are you to be my new mother?" Cassiopeia asked me with her forthright manner as she settled into her bed. It was as elaborately arrayed as any young girl could wish for, a far contrast from my own meager youth. "I should not like anyone to replace my mama."

"I should not hope to replace anyone," I said as I tucked her coverlet around her. "I will still be Hermione to you."

This answer pleased Cassie- as I had begun to refer to her- and she reached out to grab my hand.

"But you will be most precious to me after you marry Draco."

"I am glad to hear it," I said, and gently squeezed her hand as well. "For you are precious to me already. Now," I said and released her hand, "it is time to say your prayers."

I led her through her prayers, kissed her goodnight, and then extinguished the candles in her room with a wave of my wand, and slipped quietly out the door. My destination was not my own room- which had recently been moved from a small chamber attached to the nursery to a beautiful bedroom facing the gardens- but to the library, where I knew he was waiting for me.

He was reading a book and sipping a glass of brandy but was absorbed in neither, for he glanced up as soon as I opened the door.

"Hermione," he said, his voice honeyed and rich. I blushed at the impropriety that his tone suggested. It was something more intimate than we had experienced, but was not unwelcomed.

"Mr. Malfoy," I responded, and dropped a quick curtsey.

"You minx," he proclaimed, but there was humor in his voice. He may have been smirking, but the fire cast such deep shadows on his face that I could not rightly say. "You only address me as such because you know it drives me mad."

I would not deny that there was some small part of me that delighted in my power over him, to have him desire me and to hold the means of satisfaction in my hand. I will only say that I tried very hard to suppress this sinful impulse of mine.

He had not waited for my response but instead allowed the crystal decanter to pour me a glass of the same brandy he was drinking. The glass floated to the table set between the pair of armchairs where we had of late been spending our evenings. I settled into mine and took a warming sip of brandy.

It was not quite ladylike to drink spirits. Astoria Greengrass would never be seen drinking anything stronger than claret. But he has not chosen Astoria, my mind reminded me. He has chosen you, and it must give him pleasure to share a spirit with you. It gave me pleasure to share a spirit with him as well. His influence had left me with a fondness for a brandy in the evening.

Draco was silent, as was I, but it was a warm, welcoming silence. I had come to treasure our evenings together. The library was my favorite room in Malfoy Manor, vast and high ceilings, filled with rich carpets on the floor, elegant tapestries on the wall, candles floating lazily along the shelves, and more books than I could hope to read in one lifetime. There were many qualities that I liked about Draco, but one was his commitment to learning. He regularly bought new books for the library and read both for pleasure and edification, a rarity in his set. He had urged me to read as widely as I would like, and I had taken to his edict with a single-minded determination.

The centerpiece of the library was an enormous hearth and a cluster of armchairs, where we were sitting now. My mind had turned to what book I might read next, whether it should be something charming to read out loud to Draco or something in my developing interest of ancient ruins when Draco spoke.

"And how was the hellion when you put her down tonight?" His words were sharp but his tone was affectionate. When I first encountered Draco he had seemed dismissive of the girl who he claimed was his ward. I credited my own influence with the warmth that had grown between them.

"She is excited about our marriage," I said and chanced a small smile at Draco. "She says I will be something precious to her."

Draco reached out towards me, hooking an arm around my waist and pulling me towards him as if the arms of my chair offered no obstacle. I went gamely towards him, setting down my brandy on the table in the transit, and settled into his lap. This, too, was not ladylike, but oh, was it lovely to be held as such.

"You are already something precious to me," he murmured, and he kissed me. It was something heady and sweet. He tasted of brandy and apples and his arms encircled me as he pulled me closer. "Hermione."

"Draco," I whispered as his fingers began to creep up my spine, causing me to shiver.

"Minx," Draco said again. "I knew that I could make you say my name."

His voice held such a rich, seductive promise that I made myself count the days. Six days until we would be wed, and these wordless promises he was making as he kissed me, as his mouth gently traced my collarbone with kisses, as his fingers became entangled in my impossible curls would be fulfilled.

He stopped kissing me and I found my breathing was rapid. "Your heart is beating like a hummingbird," Draco teased.

I rested one palm where his heart was, the first time I had touched his chest. "So is yours," I whispered.

"The things I long to do to you," Draco murmured in my ear. His breath was hot and urgent. "Soon, my sprite."

I swallowed and stiffened my spine. There was a promise I could hear in his words. He would not compromise me. He would wait until I was his wife. I trusted Draco. I believed that, despite his past, he would wait with me.

Many times as a girl I had heard stories of women ruined. I could never understand why anyone would countenance such a destruction. But I had been naive. I had no knowledge then of desire, that throbbing, warm feeling that threatened to overtake me every time he and I were alone together. I still lacked knowledge of the art of love, but I no longer underestimated its appeal.

I nodded, not trusting any words. Instead, I counted in my mind to ten, then ten again. When my thoughts were less traitorous I stood.

"Shall I read a story to us tonight?"

"Why not something from the translation you are working on?"

I chose a story I had recently translated from French- my runic translations were not yet complete- and summoned it to me. I retook my own seat. It was far too treacherous to remain in Draco's lap. I began to read to Draco a story of an enchanted castle and a prince who had been cursed to remain in his animagus form until he had won the love of a pure-hearted muggle girl from the local village. Draco was an excellent audience. He laughed heartily during amusing portions and expressed shock when the muggle girl attempted to flee the enchanted castle. And when the animagus was shot by a hunter, only to be found and revived by the muggle girl, he was so still and quiet I believed he was holding back tears. When finally the muggle girl professed her love and the animagus was returned to his human form Draco nodded. After the two were wed and the prince was returned to his position of rightful heir of the kingdom Draco was grasping my hand gently.

"How the prince must have loved his maiden," Draco said, but his eyes were gazing deep into mine. His eyes were normally a bright, clear grey, but now they were the color of the sea at storm, with his pupils dilated so large they threatened to overtake the irises. "How could any man fail to love a woman who had saved so much of his soul?"

My breath was caught in my throat, and then the clock interrupted our moment. Twelve clear tolls rang through the library. Afterwards silence rang loudly.

"It is late," I said, my voice breathless once again. "I should retire to my chambers."

Draco studied me for a long moment, then slowly raised my hand to his lips.

"Goodnight, my sprite," he said, and kissed my hand. I left the library after making my goodnights, feeling dizzy from the sensation of being loved. I made my way to my chambers and used the spells to unlace my dress and unpin my hair. In six days it would be my husband who would be unlacing my dress and unpinning my hair. In six days those kisses and caresses would go further, to the completion I had begun to dream about. The words were a talisman. Six days. I could not wait for them to pass, and yet I somehow loved the building anticipation for our wedding day. I fell asleep feeling giddy and untouchable. I had come from such a low background to this, the future bride of Draco Malfoy. The beloved of Draco Malfoy.

It was not the only happy memory I had, but it was the one that haunted me the most. Whenever I remembered him I tried to think about his betrayal, his secrets, his failures. But my heart was treacherous and reminded me of this instead. His humor, his passion, his patience. How despite all possibilities, he had loved me and I him, truly. It was a curse and a blessing that I carried along with me for those many months I spent in the Burrow.

I return once more to the Burrow in my mind. But the Burrow is not the beginning of this story. Instead, it begins with another relationship and another home- one far colder, and crueler.

a/n Welcome to the beginning of a new story. This is obviously based upon Jane Eyre, and it will be utilizing many of Jane Eyre's features, including an extensive look at Hermione's upbringing, uncertain courtship, and yes, Hermione/Jane being canonically described as plain. Jane Eyre has long been one of my favorite books and I'm thrilled to be able to share this with all of you.