Part 1: Encountering the Beast

(A/N: Part 2 is smutty, I swear.)

Hermione Granger stifled a laugh and continued walking.

She was surrounded by a dozen girls in colourful frocks, their hair tied up in an elaborate manner. She was caught in between the tide of hormone-infested celebration.

She didn't recognize any one of them. Their faces were either obscured by large, silly masks or painted so thickly that you could barely tell whether the skin was real or not.

"Gather 'round folks," boomed a voice from behind her. "Today you shall witness the work of the Great Victor Krum!" Hermione heard the sounds of cheers and jeers. The applause from the audience was almost overwhelming.

Turning around, Hermione saw that the voice came from a tall, lanky boy with hair the color of flame. His face was covered with freckles and his eyes were the brightest shade of blue she had ever seen. He was dressed in tattered robes and filthy trousers; the soles of his shoes were torn in several places. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if the voice truly had come from him.

"Hermione," whispered a soft, tinkling voice. Hermione jumped.

She turned to see Luna Lovegood standing beside her. Despite all the costumes that she had seen tonight, no one beats Luna. She was dressed in several shades of blue, flowing like an endless, raging river. The material of her dress was made out of scrap leaves painted with glitter and something silky. It was covered with intricate designs of mythical creatures – each drawing made of tattered silk.

Luna gave Hermione a firm hug and pulled up something from behind her. "Happy Birthday, Hermione," she squealed as she gave her a box wrapped in red velvet.

"Oh, Luna, thank you!" Hermione pulled the box to her chest. "It's heavy! Is it what I think it is," Hermione asked, a smile stretching across her face.

Luna nodded. "Dumbledore told me you would want to have this copy. It's the first edition and it took him a long time trying to find it. I guess you'll have to thank him for it too."

Hermione eyed the box with excitement. "So what exactly is going on here," Luna asked as she looked around the costume-adorned crowd. "For some reason, I feel less of myself when I'm around these people."

Hermione chuckled at Luna's mock insecurity. "It's just a town gathering." She looked at the girls who swooned at the sight of Krum. "The girls, on the other hand, came for Krum."

Luna bumped her shoulders against Hermione's. "And you didn't," she teased.

"Of course not. Krum takes too much pride in himself. He is vain and loud; he does not care for me or for what I want," Hermione said, crossing her arms.

"You say this after you rejected his invitation to the ball…twice!"

"I do not feel anything towards Krum. He enslaves those poor Weasley siblings, treating Ron like a lackey. He thinks highly of himself and speaks ill with others." Hermione began to walk through the crowd, pushing herself against jostling elbows and surging knees.

Luna looked at her with pitiful eyes. "Krum has wooed you for years now, Hermione. He is the most sought after bachelor in town. He isn't perfect, but you couldn't find a prince in this side of Diagon Alley. Those things only exist in fairy tales. Blue bloods are snobs."

They were on the more isolated parts of Diagon Alley now. The streetlights flicked above their heads, providing very little light in the dark. "I just have a feeling like there's something else waiting for me out there, something greater. As much as I would want to live a stable life, I can't live one constantly wondering," Hermione explained.

There was a cry from the corner of the street, a sharp, piercing sound that filled Hermione's stomach with fear. It felt like a ton of lead had just settled on her gut. "Mother," she murmured as she began running.

Her footsteps were fast, her breathing heavy. Sweat trickled down her back. Pain radiated from her arms from carrying the book while she ran. A thousand scenarios ran through her head and she dismissed each one of them with a grunt. She could hear Luna's footsteps behind her – slower yet just as alarmed.

She reached the corner of the street and immediately scanned the area. The intersecting streets were empty, with only a few lights still lit from inside the houses. Rain puddles formed on the crevices of the badly-constructed pavement.

She ran to a small, two story building. Her heartbeat quickened, her pulse elevated. Hermione pulled open the door. Heat radiated from inside the house. From where she sood, she could smell soup and garlic bread – the aroma beckoning her to move closer.

But her feet were stuck on the floor with fear.

"Mum," she called.

She heard the sound of footsteps descending and let out a sigh of relief.

But her relief was only temporary. Her mom stood in front of her, her eyes red and swollen. Her lips quivered and her hair was in an array of tangles. "Hermione…" the woman said as she faltered into Hermione's arms.

Hermione heard the catch in her mother's voice and prepared herself. She placed her book on the table beside her and began stroking her mother's hair. "Your father, Hermione," she stuttered. "He's been kidnapped."

Hermione's blood ran cold. It couldn't be, Hermione thought. It's one sick joke. Her father had brought her to town just hours ago; he couldn't have possibly been kidnapped in that short matter of time.

In the eerie silence that followed, Hermione gathered herself. She felt like a stranger in her own body, whispering lies to the woman she held in her arms, only to reassure her. The stranger gave the woman a long hug and climbed up the stairs. She grabbed the dagger underneath her bedside table and put on a red cloak.

"Who was it," she asked her mother ferociously.

The woman looked up at her with crazed eyes. "The beast." Hermione's lips shook, her contempt less assured. The Beast had been the center of town legends for months now. It is said that the beast lived in the towering house at the highest point of the cliff; he is rumored to be once a prince – a half blood prince, but a prince nonetheless – who was cursed by a powerful wizard.

No one truly knew of the Beast's existence. Many said the Beast was a monster while others believed he was nothing but a lonely man. But one thing was for sure: he was dangerous.

"I will need the horses," Hermione said. Her mother stared past her and nodded.

The Beast sat on his plush couch, staring at the thick shroud of mist ahead of him. It was that time of year again, he thought bitterly as he watched the lights flickering from the town below. The festivities of the young and foolish have disturbed him from his sleep and none of the house elves dared to go near him for fear of being badly beaten.

He heard a moan from behind him, a tight, muffled cry of terror. "Shut up, old man. I'll have you whipped and stoned to death if you don't quit your moaning! It's giving me a bloody headache." He snapped his fingers. "Dobby," he yelled.

The elf moved shyly away from the cupboards. "Yes, sir," Dobby asked in a small, innocent voice.

"Fetch me my whip," the beast said, eyes the man through narrowed eyes. "This old man needs to learn his lesson. No one is permitted to trespass my grounds. This is my property and no one is allowed to go through it without my consent."

The old man slumped on the floor, his cheeks wet with tears. He struggled helplessly against the ropes that wrapped around his wrists and ankles, but to no success. The beast flashed the old man a menacing smile and viciously tore the tape off his mouth. "Speak up," the beast ordered.

"I was simply trying to recollect the book that I dropped. It's my present for my daughter."

The beast's eyes lit up at the mention of the word. "You have a daughter, you say," he said with an amused smile, his head tilted. "And this daughter of yours…is she perhaps, unspoken for?"

The colors drained from the old man's cheek. "No," he shouted suddenly. "I will not have you take my daughter for a prisoner! She can live without me, but I couldn't live with myself knowing that she's out here with you!"

The old man leveled the Beast's gaze, defiant.

The beast was infuriated. He wanted to hit the man. But just as he began reaching for his whip, he heard the faint sound of galloping hoofs. The beast grinned and shoved the old man back towards the closet, his mouth resealed.

The door swung open from behind him and the beast felt a gust of wind pass through the enormous, candle-lit living room. Slowly, he turned his head.

In front of him stood the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. Her hair was a tangle of bushy brown hair and her eyes were the colour of mud. She was dressed in luminous white robes and red, velvet cloak.

She stood with her mouth agape and her eyes wide. "Is there anything I can help you with," the beast asked sardonically. The girl shut her mouth and swallowed, raising her chin. "You seem quite out of place. Do tell me, are you lost?"

The girl's voice was rich with contempt. "Where is my father," she growled.

The beast let out a short, lifeless laugh. "Oh so you're with the old man!" He grabbed her chin and leaned towards her. Hermione stiffened at his touch. "…such a waste."

"Tell me where my father is," she shouted, shaking herself off his grip.

"You foolish girl! Do you think you could just storm in here and threaten me? This is my domain, my property. I rule this place and I will not have you speak to me in such a manner."

The girl laughed icily. "Who do you think you are?" She shook her head. "You think you scare me? What? You think because you grow horns from your head and your teeth are sharp…you think because you're big and covered with fur, you think you scare me?"

The girl pulled out a dagger from behind her, holding it up to the Beast's throat. "Tell me where my father is," she hissed.

The beast shook his head, his body unmoving. "I don't think you'll do that," he said, eyeing the dagger. The girl pressed its tip slightly, piercing his skin.

"Give me a reason and I swear to God I will." The Beast stared down at the girl, eyes glinting with malice.

"The rumors are true, Ms. Granger." He heard the girl gasp. "I am…a man of mystery. I have shed blood and killed thousands of men. I have inflicted torture to several of my house elves. I have been quite…reckless."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because that is the price for your father's safe return." Swiftly, he grabbed her wrist and disarmed her. "I want you."

The girl spat on him. "You are a disgusting creature! You hold my father prisoner and now you intend of doing the same for me!"

The beast shook his head. "No, no, no. You see, if you agree to keep me company, I will let your father go, unharmed. Your parents will be well-tended for; I will provide them with a bigger house, a better pay and maybe even some spare gold. However, if you choose to leave, then you leave your father here with me – to be my slave…forever."

"But why would you do that? What will you get from having me here with you?" Hermione didn't want to ask, but her curiosity piqued at her.

"I am a lonely man. I need human company, someone to remind me of my old life. House elves just couldn't fill in that need. I need to feel like I'm not a monster." The beast's tone was playful, yet almost melancholy.

"Show me where my father is," she said, her voice shaking.

The beast stepped aside and led her to the giant closet. He opened the door and Hermione felt her heart drop. Her father was crouched on one side, rocking back and forth. She touched his forehead. "He's sick," she croaked. "I have to get him to see Madam Pomfrey!"

The beast dismissed her with his hand. "No. If you choose to stay with me in exchange for your father's life, you are not to leave this place without my permission. I am your master now." Hermione's vision blurred with tears.

"But he's ill! He couldn't live for much longer if he isn't treated immediately."

"I'll have Gawp take him to Madame Pomfrey." The Beast's voice was cool, detached. He snapped his fingers, and in an instant, a tall, looming giant stood in front of the two of them. The Beast looked at her, waiting for an answer.

"Deal," she grumbled.

The beast turned to Gawp and in a booming voice, he commanded,"bring him to Madame Pomfrey; she knows what to do with him." Gawp then gently picked up her unconscious father and placed him on his shoulder.

"Goodbye father," Hermione called, watching the giant cross the room and head for the town. She watched the hulking figure until it was merely a dot on the edge of the road. When she saw him turn to the nearest infirmary, she let out a sigh of relief.

The first night was lonely, tiresome. After the encounter in the living room, the beast retreated to his quarters without a word. Hermione watched as he slams the door shut, the chandelier clinking at the ripple. She was brought to the basement where she was ordered to tidy the clutter.

Hermione wept silently for the days she could never have, for the family she could no longer be with. She wept for her stolen life and her bottled up anger.

In the darkness, she heard a whisper. "You," it called. "Pssst…hey you, new girl."

Hermione turned to see an elf sitting atop the flight of stairs that lead to the basement. "Who are you," she asked, trying to see the elf's face.

"My name is Dobby. I am a house elf. My master has taken me in with such hospitality; I could not be more honoured to serve him. You shouldn't cry. My master…he isn't as ruthless as you think." Hermione was shocked by the admiration in the elf's voice.

"He's an evil, callous, brute. He thinks only of himself," Hermione spat.

"He's lonely, miss. He hasn't had a woman enter this house for quite a while. His fiancée shunned him; his parents had died in an unfortunate event. He's been alone his whole life, left to this wide expanse of land with nothing but his ego to keep him company."

Hermione felt her heart weaken at the thought of such tragedy; then she reminded herself that it wasn't some poor boy they were talking about, but a merciless beast.

"Why is he like that," Hermione asked.

"Dobby must not say any more. Dobby is being an ungrateful servant. Dobby must punish himself for talking about his Master without permission." The elf began hitting himself, pulling at several places. Hermione felt horrible for the poor, tortured elf.

She threw herself at him. "Stop, Dobby. Stop. It's okay. Your master won't find out. I promise, I won't tell." The elf beamed at her and ran up.

Hermione was greeted by a list of chores the next morning. She dutifully did each one of them, humming to herself. With each chore, she explored the house, meeting different house elves. None of them was like Dobby; they were more discreet and irritable.

Hours turned to days, days to weeks and Hermione barely the beast come out of his quarters. If he'd been so desperate for company then, why avoid it now, she thought as she pulled open the door to his quarters.

Hermione has never seen the room before. It was tended by house elves and strictly off limits for her. She didn't understand why the beast was being so secretive. The room was far from what she expected. It was spotless and neat, no gashes on the wall of stacks of paper on the floor. It was painted a dark shade of red and furnished with the fanciest of furniture. She was so mesmerized by the simplicity that she jumped when she heard a cough behind her.

"Just what do you think you're doing in my quarters? Haven't I told you this room is restricted. It's not part of your job to look after me. Why do you have to be so stubborn all the time," the Beast shouted.

Hermione ignored him and walked towards the window, pushing the curtains apart. Bright light came streaking in. The beast grunted and settled in his bed. "Pull those curtains back. I want to get some rest. I can't sleep with lights on."

Hermione crossed her arms and walked towards the Beast. Playfully, she tried to drag him out of bed, tossing his blanket aside. "Get up, lazy." The beast growled and buried his head deeper into the pillow.

"Leave me alone." Hermione placed her arms on her sides and pouted.

"Just look. It's beautiful outside. It may have escaped your attention, but it's winter now," she pleaded. The beast tossed and turned, but didn't bother getting up. She grabbed his arm and pulled. "Come on. Let's go."

The beast pulled away. The force of his pull sent Hermione tumbling to the space beside him. The beast's eyes shot wide open. Hermione felt her heart flutter. She didn't realize how close their bodies had gotten. At this proximity, she could see his eyes clearly. It was the colour of emerald reflected into an array of shades. Her entire body stiffened, her eyes watching his, searching for something.

The beast turned away from her, embarrassed. "Get off my bed," he grunted. Ashamed to be caught staring, Hermione quickly stood up and brushed her dress. "I will be with you in a moment. Now please, leave."

The beast's sudden change of tone took Hermione by surprise.

Moments later, Hermione found herself sitting on soft, powdery snow. Beside her, the Beast looked around furtively. "You need to loosen up a bit," she teased. The beast simply shook his head and looked away. "Look at me." Hermione held his chin to face her. "You have to stop hiding. It's just you and me here."

The beast stared at her hand and Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot. She didn't know what caused the sudden flutter in her stomach. She gingerly placed her hand back to her lap. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and turned to go. The beast, shocked at the sudden irritation in Hermione's voice, rose.

Hermione slung a ball of chalky white snow straight to his face. The Beast irritably wiped the slowly-melting snow off his face. For a second, Hermione thought she had angered him royally. But instead, the Beast bent down and gathered snow in his hands. He threw the snowball lightly at Hermione, hitting her side. It was the first time Hermione saw the Beast smile without malice.

They exchanged snow ball attacks until their arms ached. Exhausted, they fell on the soft, cold ground, laughing. Hermione stretched out her arm and reached for the Beast's hand.

He wrapped his fingers around hers like it was the most natural thing in the world.