A/N. So I promised a while back that I'd write a full-length Hermione/Lucius time travel story. Obviously, I've kind of really made myself comfortable in the realm of time travel, and this will probably be my last story with that theme. It will be short, ten chapters maximum, and five chapters minimum I think.

It was inspired by three very famous stories, from which I pulled certain elements. Those being Beauty & the Beast, Jane Eyre, and Through the Looking Glass. I own none of those literary works, nor do I own Harry Potter.

This story is complete, all written on my computer - but I will not be uploading all at once (though I'd love to). It will be uploaded once a week, on Mondays. So next Monday, you'll get another chapter. There.

Well. Here goes nothing.

...~oOo~...

Chapter One: The Windstorm

It was strange, being back in Malfoy Manor. The last memory Hermione had was of Bellatrix hanging over her cackling while Hermione writhed in agony and had her arm carved into with a cursed blade. It was not a place she'd ever planned to revisit, but there she was, and her skin crawled as she walked through the vast, ornate foyer.

She hated everything about the Manor. Everything inside it, the people who lived there, and what it ultimately stood for. Blood supremacy. Enslavement. Prejudice. Hate.

But the threat of it was mostly gone. The war was over. Hermione was free.

So why did her stomach still lurch when she even thought of the Manor?

Beside her, a throat cleared. Hermione turned to find Draco Malfoy, current owner of the mansion that haunted Hermione's nightmares. Draco said nothing, only nodded and proceeded to lead her through the house.

It was supposed to be a peace agreement. Draco had been acquitted, Narcissa too, while Lucius was sentenced to Azkaban. There was a warped justice to it all, but Hermione was trying not to hold a judge. Narcissa Malfoy was an integral part in Voldemort's defeat, and Hermione wanted to show that she deeply appreciated it. So she had agreed to do Draco the favor of organizing the Mafloys' library.

The library housed some of the most Dark, evil tomes and documents in wizarding history. It had been a hiding place for some of the Dark Lord's most valuable and soul-blackening texts. It had been where Lucius fell in love with the Dark Arts. It was the embodiment of the phrase "books hold great power". Opening the cover of the wrong book could mean instant death.

Narcissa refused to touch any part of the house that held traces of her husband's involvement as a Death Eater, and Draco... well, as always, Draco was just too damned afraid. So, through Potter, Draco had contacted Hermione - famously and expert with literature.

Draco led Hermione to two rather large black doors with intricate silver designs, creating runes in their swirling patterns. This room was protected with a great deal of magic, right down to the metal that made up the door and surely the bones of the walls.

From his pocket, Draco drew a ring of about five keys. He selected an especially old-looking one, rusted around the handle. It was probably as old as the Malfoy name itself. He inserted it into the door and twisted with a small grunt of effort. The tumblers obeyed and Draco opened one of the heavy doors.

It wasn't the size of the library that frightened Hermione most - though it was rather large - but the state in which it was kept. Books haphazardly stacked, placed in incorrect sections, notes stuffed between pages and parchment falling to the floor. She saw three texts immediately that needed repair, and she was happy to provide it.

It was definitely a project. A profound sadness swelled from Hermione's stomach at the ill treatment of such sacred objects, but with it came determination.

"There's a desk near the back window," Draco reported, sounding tired and withdrawn. "If you need a workspace. If you see anything you like, by all means take it. My father won't be missing it." He paused. "Call on an elf if you get hungry."

Hermione nodded numbly, not even bothering to protest against the use of house-elves. She was too busy making a mental game plan for the library. To start by section or by shelf?

"And if you find anything... particularly dangerous... well, there is a fireplace waiting for it," Draco said dryly.

Hermione cringed at the thought of destroying a book, but reminded herself that some books were better off never written. The image of a leather journal with a fnag stuck through flashed through her mind and she shivered. Certainly, some books just needed to die.

The last thing Draco said before departing was, "Good luck."

Hermione sighed and made a decision. She would start by section.

...~oOo~...

Hermione's system was easy enough. She started in the back right corner and looked through the titles to find a general subject and collected all the books on that subject, separated them into sub-categories, and alphabetized them before re-shelving them. She'd take the books not belonging to the top and levitated them behind her as she went on to the next section and repeated the process.

By lunch, she had tackled the entirety of Light charms and half of Potions. Any Light magic was easy enough to get through because there wasn't much of it. Potions, however, is such a vast subject matter that she wouldn't doubt half the library to end up being dedicated to it.

A house-elf came trotting with at exactly 1:00 pm with a tray of lunch things. Tea, sandwiches, lemonade, salad, and an apple, all prettily decorated with a little vase with a flower in it.

"Zippy brings lunch for Miss," the elf said, his floppy ears perky. "Where would Miss like to take her lunch?"

"The desk would be fine, thank you," Hermione said, giving Zippy a smile and following him. "I appreciate it very much, Zippy."

"Zippy is happy to serve, Miss," Zippy said with a bow. "Zippy will leave the Miss to her lunch."

Hermione ate and worked at the same time. She tried her very hardest not to get any food smudges, because she learned that some of the books had quite the temper. One of them, much like her Magical Beasts textbook in school, had teeth and took a nice chomp out of her hand. Another opened up and from it came pouring out large Black Widow spiders. Some of the books she knew not to directly touch, for they could inflict terrible curses.

And most of all, Hermione struggled to follow the biggest rule. Do Not Read.

It was hard for a girl as curious and information-hungry as Hermione. There was a world waiting to be discovered and all it took was the flip of a page.

But no. Hermione could not. She was a good witch, not Dark.

It took all of her will, but she trudged on without Reading.

It was about six o'clock in the evening when Hermione came to the inevitable conclusion that the library would take more than one day for sorting.

About to call it quits for the day, Hermione was pulling on her cardigan when she saw a book among her piles that she hadn't seen before. It was leather-bound with gold etchings in the cover. The edges of the pages glinted in a matching gold, reminding Hermione faintly of a Bible. It was no Bible, though.

After deeming it safe to touch with a few flicks of her wand, Hermione reached out and lifted it into her hands, weighing it carefully. It was curiously light, even for a book as lean as this one. There was no words on the cover of binding, just markings like on the library door, but... different, somehow.

The book had no teeth and did not burn to the touch. No poison seeped from its pages and it had no mental or emotional control over the holder. It was very simple in comparison to what she'd seen that day.

With a deep breath, Hermione slowly pulled open the cover.

The library became a window tunnel, but it wasn't billowing out from the book, but gales of wind came from the walls, whipping through the shelves violently. Books were lifted by the force of the wind, some toppled off their shelves, destroying all of Hermione's work so far. But she didn't even have time to worry about that. Her eyes grew huge with horror and she dropped the leather book, sprinting for the door.

Hermione yanked on the handles, but they didn't budge. Her hair was lashing across her face, obstructing her vision, her t-shirt rippling as the blows threatened to knock her off her feet.

She banged on the doors, yelling, "HELP! DRACO! NARCISSA! PLEASE, HELP!"

Gripping the doorknob as an anchor, Hermione turned around and faced the library once more and, if it was possible, her eyes got even bigger at what she saw.

The wind wasn't just knocking off books and throwing them around - it was replacing them. Moving them into different spots. Re-shelving, essentially. A spurt of anger ran through her, like the windstorm had been unsatisfied with her job so far.

But the wind picked up and the desk started moving and she screamed for help a few more times before...

It all abruptly stopped.

Hermione's heart banged like a drum, her hair still a mess, as she braced herself for anything else about to happen. She waited for a full, fear-stricken minute before allowing her hand to relax and to lean heavily against the door. She let out a breath of relief. Rubbing a hand down her face, she reached out to try the doorknob once more.

This time, the door opened. Looking around suspiciously, and a little fearfully, Hermione dug into her pocket and drew out her wand to hold at her side. Something was wrong, she could feel it.

"Hello?" she called out hesitantly. "Draco?"

She waited for ten seconds. There was no answer.

"Strange," she murmured to herself. Something strange was happening.

Then there was the ominous click of heels coming towards her in the corridor. She knew that footfall anywhere and turned, waiting to find Narcissa, hair drawn up into a bun, wearing something conservative but feminine, in those spiky shoes.

This was not who came forward though. Or rather, it wasn't the Narcissa she was expecting.

Narcissa's blonde hair was wavy around her shoulders, her lips painted red, and she was wearing a dress that showed a bit more skin than Hermione was used to seeing on the woman. Her heels were even higher, with a vintage ankle clasp. Her nails were long and matched her mouth and gone was every wrinkle on her face. Her blue eyes still pierced the soul, though.

"Who are you?" Narcissa demanded in that cold, clear tone of hers that demanded respect.

"It's... Hermione, Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione answered slowly.

With a calculating gaze, Narcissa asked, "Are you here for the job?"

Hermione let out a breath of relief. So she did know why she was here. "Yes, the libr -"

"Follow me, and step quickly," Narcissa said, cutting through her sentence like a blade. She spun on her heel and strode down the corridor proudly, expecting Hermione to follow. "You're the first to answer the ad and I promise that will not go overlooked during your interview. I hope you like lamb."

Head spinning, Hermione murmured, "Er..."

"I'm sure you understand that the importance of the job cannot be overstated," Narcissa went on, walking Hermione down the staircase. "House-elves cannot be relied on for responsibilities such as this, and while welcoming a stranger into my home would not be my first choice, it is the price a mother must for her son."

"What about Draco?" Hermione said, her brows furrowed. A headache was forming between her eyes and it throbbed like a heartbeat.

"You did your research, good," Narcissa said, her voice humming with quiet approval. "Yes, my son's name is Draco Lucius Malfoy, the heir to the Malfoy fortune, and I will go through great lengths that he gets the attention and education he needs."

None of this was making any discernible sense. The pain in her head was mounting rather quickly.

Narcissa pushed open pair of doors that reminded Hermione slightly of the library doors and revealed it to be the dining room. A cold feeling clawed down her spine. But that was nothing compared to seeing who sat at the table.

The man, at first, Hermione thought was Draco, but it took a second to realize she was wrong. This man's blonde hair was slightly longer, just covering his ears, and his features were... more defined, more aristocratic, strangely enough. And maybe he was taller - Hermione couldn't tell, for he was sitting down.

And beside him was a blonde baby in a high-chair.

"This is my husband, Lucius Malfoy, and my son, Draco," Narcissa said with a hint of pride, walking forward and not noticing that Hermione had stopped moving altogether in the doorway.

Hermione could have sworn Lucius had started speaking, but she couldn't be sure, because in the next three seconds, Hermione fainted.

...~oOo~...

A/N2. So there's the first chapter. With this story being so short, I might not be doing my usual Challenges, but we'll see.

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~