Sleep did not come easily for me that night. Seeing Janet perform magic shocked me still; seeing her disappear so swiftly, I stared and blinked at the spot where she had stood and turned to fill a glass with spirits, for my spirit was shaken indeed. I sat, nursing my drink with slightly shaking fingers and shook my head as if to cast off some cobwebs around my head.
I closed the door behind me and sent my butler away, since I required nothing else and, minutes later, went to the front door to open and close it loudly, as if sending away my absent companion.
I walked slowly to my room, mindlessly perform my nightly routine of changing clothes and bury myself among the sheets.
What wonders exist in Janet's world, I ask myself? A magical world here, in London, under our noses, I scoff. Either we are blind or they conceal themselves most effectively. Janet has hid it well, all these months, I scowl, how did I miss it? Or did she avoid practising her magical art? So many questions.
The next day I sat in my study, by the fireplace, and I must have fallen asleep. When I opened my eyes, Jane was already there, sitting across me in a most scandalous dress, or better, a wool sweater fitting her body forms and trousers made of a bluish material I could not identify, and wearing assimetrical elegant, comfortable looking boots, her hair loose. Looking at her made me ache. She was looking at the fire, here but distant, as if lost in some memory of the past, fingering an elegantly crafted piece of wood. I paled.
"It's a wand. The wand chooses the wizard or the witch.", she said, and sighed. "I suppose you have questions, Mr. Rochester." I swallow hard and, closing my eyes, lightly press two fingers over them.
"Jane... how? When? I don't know where to start. Have you recovered your memory?"
"I never really lost it. I'd like to apologise for all the little big lies I have told you but I can't change who I am." I told her I understood. "My story is rather long, and I can't tell all of it, but... I will tell you what I can."
"Why did you not leave sooner, if you knew about Bertha?"
"I needed to sort out my priorities and then, finding out about my family, my inheritance... I needed to think, to cut all loose ends. You made it easy, I guess. I don't really belong in your world, sir." she took a deep breath. "I don't even belong in this time."
"What do you mean, Janet?"
"I have lived another life, before this one. You could say I was forced to be a warrior, in my other life, and that I was sent here, for some unknown purpose. Perhaps it is a reward, although it doesn't always feels like one. I was taken from all that I knew, all the ones I cared about and woke here, as Jane Eyre."
I let myself fall back to my chair, and tried to make sense of what she told me, it sounded...
"You're shocked, of course, and think me a liar."
"Never, Jane, it is too fantastical for it to be a lie, or for me to fully understand. So, in this other life you speak of, you were not Jane Eyre."
"Correct." she paused, "I was Hermione Granger. I was a witch then, and a witch now, but Jane Eyre wasn't one. Still, it's best if you call me Jane, it's who I am now, who I have to be."
"You told me you have family now." Cousins, apparently. "Will you go to them?"
"No, my place is here, now. But I suppose I should, I don't..." She rose and faced the fire, looking pensive. "I still dream of the war, sometimes. We won, but... you know how it is."
I couldn't help but rise and, taking her hand in mine, made her face me.
"My darling Jane." she smiled a bit.
"My little Vulcan." I smiled fondly at her. "I must go now, sir."
"Edward.", she turned serious, and cast down her eyes. "It's only us, Jane. Say, Edward -"
"Sir, I would rather not. I shouldn't have come."
Again she disappeared. Angered I paced the room and stopped at a piece of cream colored parchment, with an odd looking quill on top of it. I remembered her talk about a special parchment and decided to try it. I drew some lines and signed my name at the top of it, and noticed the quill did not leak not spill as usual quills, nor did it require an ink pot. Ingenious. Then the ink seemed to seep into the paper and disappear entirely. I blinked hard. Moments later, Jane's handwriting appeared.
It's alright, sir. It's me, Jane. I apologize for disappearing like that. Would you like to meet again?
I took the quill and wrote, yes, Monday, there are a few functions I must attend until then.
I'll be there.
I smile, triumphant, and then scowl. In the meantime, she would meet that blasted Professor from that hellish school.