Beauty and the Beast

Chapter One: Meeting the Beast

Hermione muttered to herself as her captors dragged her along, their ham-sized hands grasping at each of her elbows and pulling her backwards towards the looming castle that she knew was staring at her back. She had ceased fighting them half a mile back, to exhausted to do much but let them pull her along, her heels leaving tracks in the brown earth. She had tied the obnoxious gown they had given her to wear around her knees to avoid dust. If she was to be thrown into some castle as a 'sacrifice' to some baron, she would do it with dignity.

Damn her father. Him and his damned gambling problems. Selling off his own daughter to pay for a gambling debt, when he knew of the superstitious nature of the villagers. Every year, the villagers of Hogsmeade would cart off with some girl and throw her down at the castle gate. Occasionally they came back, starved and raving with sickness, half mad with exposure. Most others were never seen again.

The gown was a radiant emerald shade of velvet, with a long, billowing gown, lined in black lace with silver embroidery along the edge, depicting serpents entwined in Celtic-type knots. There was a black velvet sash tied around her waist, the ends hanging down to the bottom of the skirt in back. The sleeves were also green, fitting like a second skin, and a loop of fabric hooked over her middle finger. The bodice was extremely tight and Hermione found that she had trouble breathing if she did anything but keep her back perfectly straight. It was green, with the same pattern that was on her skirt around the embarrassingly low neckline. The boat neck was, in Hermione's mind, sinful.

Large, intimidating iron gates screeched open and Hermione was thrown unceremoniously down onto the path. Rubbing her sore bottom, she untied her skirt, and brushed it quickly with her hands as she walked up the paved path to Grimmwauld Estate.

The path was lined with rose bushes, in full bloom and covered with black roses. Glancing up, Hermione saw that the castle itself was decorated with dark, looming gargoyles, all glaring down at her through bestial eyes. Averting her eyes to the ground she hurried to the large oaken doors, carved with scenes of bloody battles, and ironically enough, roses on either side of the ring handles. Pulling on the heavy doors, she laughed nervously as they creaked ominously. As she closed the door behind her, the dark entrance hall was suddenly lit with the glow of over a hundred candles, apparently enchanted to light at the entrance of a living creature. Or maybe she was just lucky.

A low, rumbling growl echoed through the hall and Hermione spun around from where she as facing the door and came face to face with a large, wolfish beast. It loomed almost two feet over her, with a long, black muzzle filled with two inch teeth and four inch canines. The eyes were a golden yellow, glaring full force down at her. It was as though a large, fully clothed coal black wolf was standing over her. It was wearing a black frock coat, buttoned to the thick base of its neck, hanging down to the beast's ankles, revealing exposed paws with two inch claws surrounded with shaggy black fur.

"Why have you trespassed upon Grimmwauld Estate?" The voice was low and rocky, a lion's purr. Hermione clasped her hands behind her back, taking a step backwards and bumping into the door.

"I was sent, by the villagers. They said I was to be the sacrifice." Hermione was deeply embarrassed. She hated insinuating that this being may be so primitive as to accept sacrifices. The beast turned around.

"Of course. Would you like an aid back to the village or would you rather go someplace else? I wouldn't recommend either, but the previous women who did not instantly flee the grounds decided that they would rather go to some new town and try to salvage some scraps of their old lives." Hermione was surprised; he wasn't going to eat her, or something. Damn villagers! Scaring her like that. Well she certainly wasn't going back to her pitiful excuse of a father. And she didn't think that she would be able to survive on her own in unfamiliar territory. As much as she hated to admit it, she was dependent and frightened.

"May I stay the night here, if it is not too much trouble? I should like to think about my decision and it is already close to night fall." The beast looked slightly startled, but Hermione couldn't be sure if he was or if he was angered that she had asked to stay. "If you wish. Come, I will show you to a room." And he started up the winding steps, the enchanted candles seeming to float after him.

A walk down a dark, narrow hallway led to a set of double doors with glass door handles. There were no carvings on this door, for which Hermione was glad. The Beast swung open the doors, revealing a room decorated in blue and silver, with dark wood furniture and an enchanted portrait of a beautiful woman holding her cat. There was a bright fire roaring at the hearth, with a small table set to the left. The table was already set for dinner and Hermione could smell the tantalizing aroma of roast pork wafting over from the plate.

When she turned to thank the Beast, she found that he had gone, closing the doors behind him with a muted click. Hermione strode up to the elegantly carved chair and sat in front of the appealing dinner plate. Roast pork with a potato and fresh greens. Hermione was about to dig into the meal, but hesitated. The plate had been set before the Beast showed her the room. Had he been expecting her? Or did he have house elves as many nobles usually did?

Hermione had seen neither hide nor hair of an elf, so she assumed he must have been expecting her and had the staff prepare a room. Hastily accepting any theory that would permit her to eat, she shrugged aside her worries for the time being and cut into the meat before her.

When Hermione awoke the next morning, the sun had risen high in the sky, although its light was muffled by thick blue curtains. She stretched luxuriously in the king sized bed, amazed at its softness. Baron Beast, as Hermione had taken to calling him in her mind, for he was a baron, must have had it charmed. No one in the village could afford charmed mattresses and most didn't take the time to learn the charm themselves. Hermione sighed. As a peasant she had been allowed no access to education.

She had a wand, but it was her mother's, and she wasn't sure if it would work for her. She would wave it a round occasionally, but nothing really happened. Once she had flicked it at random and a book flew out and hit her in the nose, but when she tried it again, nothing happened.

She pulled the wand out from the straps under her sleeves. It was beautiful. A dark, willow wood wand, very flexible, with phoenix feather core, eleven inches. When she was a little girl, her mother would summon butterflies that vanished whenever Hermione caught them in her small hands.

Pushing the memory aside, she stuffed the wand under her mattress and threw the covers aside. The chair and table were set for breakfast. Toast and marmalade, eggs, sausage and bacon and a tall glass of milk. A simple gown hung over the back of the chair, its long skirt brushing the floor. Hermione spread it out on the bed, scrutinizing it closely. It was a vibrant shade of burgundy, with white and gold trimming on the neck and sleeves. Stitched into the trim were golden lions, seeming to prowl back and forth across the hems. After quickly gulping down the breakfast provided for her, Hermione carefully dressed herself, thankful for the silver comb and brush that had been left on the bedside table. She twisted her hair up into a bun on the back of her head, using the decorative comb to pin it in place. The comb was shaped like a rose, the petals made out of paper thin slices of ruby, carefully shaped over a silver wrought frame. The leaves of the rose were of the same design, only in emeralds.

Slipping on her shoes, she braced herself for a journey around the castle, and hopefully a talk with Baron Beast. Pushing the double doors open, she found that her hopes were not in vain. The beast was standing right outside her door, as though expecting her exit.

"Good morning, I trust you slept well?" Hermione nodded cautiously.

"Yes, thank you." There was a long pause and the Beast turned and began down the hall, speaking to Hermione still.

"I have had a horse prepared for you. It is a short walk to the stables and I will take you by the kitchens so you may gather some rations for your journey." When he noticed that Hermione was not following him, he turned his head around, looking at her sideways through one yellow eye. "Well? Are you coming or have you chosen to join the troops of gargoyles adorning my castle? You certainly look enough like one with your mouth hanging open like that."

Hermione snapped her mouth shut and glared at the Beast's back, the Beast, seeming to sense her gaze, wheeled around and stared right back at her. After a few minutes he turned away, his wolfish lips seeming to lift slightly at the corners.

"Come, the servants can not be kept waiting." He continued to walk down the hall and this time Hermione followed dutifully after him.

A short walk through the black rose gardens led to a large stable that smelled of horses and hay and Hermione was comforted by the smell. But once they stepped inside, she was puzzled to find it empty.

"But there are no horses here." The Beast shook his shaggy head.

"No, there are no horses. Don't tell me you can not see the thestrals?" Hermione took a shaky step back. Thestrals were considered an omen of death by the villagers, but then again, Hermione thought, they also thought that Baron Beast planned to eat her. She shook her head quickly, but carefully, so as not to dislodge the comb. "Then I shall help you mount one. Would you prefer a mare or gelding? I have trained both well, but I would recommend the mare for you, she is much more agreeable."

Hermione paused, the Beast was resting a hand on one of the invisible thestrals and the fact that he was so easily leaning against something she couldn't see alarmed her. She thought about the castle, Grimmwauld Estate, with its looming gargoyles that had seen so many secrets, about the mystery of the prepared meals and clothes. She also thought about the Baron Beast, alone in this castle for so long, with no one to talk to, though, she supposed, maybe he liked it that way. But, she decided, she would stay for as long as she could and try and discover all that she could about this place, make excuses to stay and then, when the Beast made her leave, she would tell the tales of a fearsome Beast with his dark castle, who rode one thestrals instead of horses.