Beauty and the Beast is my second all-time favorite Disney movie. The Little Mermaid only wins out over it because I wanted to be Ariel. Ask my old kindergarten teacher. Anyhow, after watching it over the weekend, I decided there needed to be a Dramione version. Hermione is so Belle.
By the way, I own neither Beauty and the Beast (unless you count my VHS copy, because that's how old I am) nor Harry Potter. Enjoy!
Once upon a time,
in a faraway land,
a young prince lived in a shining castle.
Although he had everything his heart desired,
the prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind.
But then, one winter's night,
an old beggar woman came to the castle
and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold.
Repulsed by her haggard appearance,
the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away.
But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances,
for beauty is found within.
And when he dismissed her again,
the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress.
The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late,
for she had seen that there was no love in his heart.
And as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast
and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there.
Ashamed of his monstrous form,
the beast concealed himself inside his castle,
with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world.
The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose,
which would bloom until his 21st year.
If he could learn to love another,
and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell,
then the spell would be broken.
If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time.
As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope.
For who could ever learn to love a beast?
-Beauty and the Beast
"I have to go where?" Hermione Granger inquired, her voice rising with shock and just a hint of fear. If the rumors were to be believed, Malfoy Manor was home to something so monstrous few dared step foot inside. Aurors had checked out the property on several occasions after reports that witches and wizards had gone missing inside, and each spoke of the hideous beast that resided inside the walls of what was once a majestic pureblood mansion.
"You work for a department that deals with the care of magical creatures," Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, stated. "We believe that's what we're dealing with."
The brunette fidgeted in her seat. She had faced many horrors over the years after finding out she was a witch - trolls, Dementors, giants, Death Eaters. A trip to Malfoy Manor shouldn't have caused such terror, but it did. Those who had seen the beast who resided there came back changed. Many had been taken to St. Mungo's mental health ward to recuperate. Some told the stories of their encounter, while others refused to speak at all. Hermione shuddered at the thought of becoming like any of them.
"Isn't there someone else who can go? Someone more qualified?" she asked.
Kingsley shook his head. "I'm sorry, Hermione."
Two days later, Hermione stood at the gates of Malfoy Manor wondering how she was supposed to pass through. The last time she had been there, escorted by Snatchers, only Voldemort's most trusted minions were able to open the wrought iron gates. She wondered if magic was still required now that the Malfoys had allowed their ancestral home to become a dilapidated shell of its former self. Pulling her wand from the sleeve of her robe, she touched the tip to the center of the gate. "Alohomora," she said. The gate squeaked when she pushed on it, granting her access to her latest case.
The grounds were in a shambles. The hedges had grown high and the lawn was filled with weeds. The steps leading to the front door were cracked, making it difficult to climb them. Hermione briefly wondered what had become of the peacocks Lucius Malfoy had been so proud of, but decided it was better not to know. The front door was slightly ajar and looked to be misaligned when she attempted to close it behind her.
"Homenum Revelio," she whispered. The spell picked up the presence of a single life force. The beast, she determined. Lighting her wand, she surveyed the first floor, but found no sign of him. Returning to the foyer, her foot touched the first step when a strong wind swept through, slamming the front door shut. Turning, she ran for the door and struggled to pull it open.
"Think you can get away that easily?" a deep voice rumbled behind her. She twisted the doorknob violently, but the door was jammed shut. "You'll never get out, not until I let you leave."
She turned around, leaning against the door, and came face to face with...Draco Malfoy? His once pale, perfect skin was marred with deep red lines and dark under eye circles. There was nothing fearsome about the boy who once taunted for being muggleborn.
"I've hit you before, and I'll do it again. Let me out, Malfoy," she stated defiantly, pointing her wand at his chest. With a wave of his hand, he now had possession of her wand. "Give it back."
Draco shook his head and snapped it in half. "You won't be needing that now," he informed her, smirking at his new prisoner. "Why did you come here?"
"On business," she spoke through clenched teeth.
"Alone? Does the Ministry hate you?" he laughed.
"Why won't you let me leave?" she demanded, refusing to answer his question. Though, she had begun to wonder why she was sent without reinforcement. Continuing to smirk, he turned around and went back to the stairs, beckoning her to follow. Curiosity got the better of her, and she climbed the stairs behind him. "Why do they say you're a beast? You don't look any more intimidating to me than a newborn kitten."
"Such scathing words for a witch without her wand," he commented. They reached the end of the second floor and he opened a door. "These are your rooms. In."
But Hermione stood her ground. "Why won't you answer my questions? Why bother keeping me here?"
Taking hold of her arm, he dragged her into the room and shut the door behind him. "For a woman as bright as you, you haven't yet seemed to catch on that I am not here to answer your questions," he spoke authoritatively. "You will stay here until I tire of you, and then you may go. Everything you need, the wardrobe will provide. Dinner is served at six sharp every evening. You will join me."
"I will not," she retorted. "The Ministry will come looking for me, and you'll spend the rest of your days in Azkaban for kidnapping."
A menacing smile crossed his face as he moved nearer to her. "The Ministry won't come. When they find you haven't returned, they won't risk any more of their people. Face it, Granger, there's no one to rescue you." He left after that, giving her time to allow his words to fully sink in.
Draco climbed the stairs to the third floor. There, in the east wing of the Manor, he found his sanctuary. Peeling off his shirt, he stood in front of the Mirror of Erised. He gazed upon pale and perfect flesh, free of scars and still-healing cuts. It truly was his desire to return to the man he had once been before he was cursed.
He once believed himself to be perfect; a god amongst men. When an old woman begged for shelter, he denied her. Malfoy Manor was a proud foundation, not a hotel. She had told him she was a witch, but it made no difference to him. After all, he had been bedding witches since he was fifteen years old. He dismissed her once more, but she refused to leave. Instead, she cast a spell on him, condemning him to transform into a beast as night approached. She gave him until his twenty-first birthday to find love. He watched the petals of the rose fall away, turning black when they touched the table. With only a couple of months left until his birthday, Draco feared he would forever be afflicted by his condition. No woman would ever love him; none had been given the opportunity to try.
For a year, many dared to enter his home. Some came at night and were driven mad by the sight of his transformation. Aurors repeatedly made surprise visits in hopes of catching him, but not one had been successful. He wondered why Granger would choose to come. Surely she had heard the stories.
"Master, supper is ready," Winkles, his only house elf, announced.
Pulling his shirt over his head, Draco nodded. "Please inform Ms. Granger," he instructed. "See to it that she attends." With a bow, the elf popped out of the room. He glanced back at the mirror once more, seeing his former self, before he left the room.
He ate alone that night. The shaking elf appeared to tell him Hermione would not leave her room. "Fine, let her starve," he grumbled as the first course appeared on the table. As each came and went, he wondered if she finally come downstairs. When dessert was finished, the sun set. Exiting the dining room, he ran up the stairs, but the transformation was complete when he reached the second floor landing.
Hermione opened her door slightly when she heard running. Glancing down the long hall, she saw a wolf-like beast hunched over and panting rapidly. Gasping, she shut the door and leaned against it as her heart pounded wildly. The sound of nails scraping against the hardwood floors neared, and she immediately turned the lock. She quickly backed away from the door and entered the wardrobe. Even from her hiding place she could hear the nails and the heavy breathing as the creature sniffed beneath her door. When the sounds faded away, she left the closet and opened the bedroom door. Claw marks marred the floors, but made it easier for her to follow him. Without a wand, she had no way to defend herself. But she was there to investigate and possibly help this beast, and hiding in a wardrobe would be beneficial to no one.
Slowly, she climbed the stairs to the third floor. The marks took her east and stopped just outside of a cluttered room. Most of the furniture was overturned, pictures were slashed, and glass broken. In the middle of the room stood a majestic, jeweled mirror. Across the top of the frame, inscribed in gold lettering, the mirror read Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Only once had Hermione seen the mirror, and she knew it was meant to show the viewer only their deepest desires. Stepping cautiously into the room, she wondered what the mirror would show her. But before she could look, she noticed the wolf lying on the floor in front of it. The mirror reflected a tall, proud Draco Malfoy.
The nearer she got, the more distorted the image became. Draco sat up and turned to the intruder, growling low in his throat. The nails from his left paw sunk deeply into his right arm as he slashed at the hairy flesh. Startled by the gray eyes trained on her, Hermione slowly backed out of the room and ran down to the second floor.
Hermione didn't sleep a wink when she emerged from her room for breakfast the next morning. Her stomach rumbled horribly and her head ached from a lack of sleep. The dining room was empty when she arrived, and she hoped to Merlin that Draco would not join her. She wondered what he would look like; if he would still be a wolf, if he was hurt. Now she knew where his scars had come from. What she wondered now was how to help him.
"Oh, you're here," Draco said flatly before exiting the dining room.
Dropping her napkin onto the table, she ran after him before he reached the stairs. "What was that last night?" she asked.
"I'm cursed," he answered as casually as if she asked him the color of the sky.
Hermione let her fingers close around his right wrist and drew it up before pushing back his shirt sleeve. Draco hissed at the sight of the new scratches. "If you hadn't broken my wand I could heal these," she told him.
He shook his arm out of her hold. "Stay out of the east wing," he warned.
Dumbfoundedly, Hermione watched him disappear from sight before she returned to the dining room to finish her breakfast. Winkles appeared to take away the second place setting. "What does he mean he's cursed?" she wondered.
Winkles looked at her nervously. He had been asked a question and knew he had to answer. "An old witch," he said hesitantly, "she puts a spell on Master Draco."
"And he hasn't found a counter curse?" Hermione asked.
Winkles shook his wrinkled head. "Master does not know how to love," he replied sadly before leaving her alone.
It was a week before Hermione saw Draco again. She awoke to find him standing outside of her room. He looked tired, as if he hadn't slept in days, and a fresh cut ran the length of his cheek. "Good morning," she said tiredly.
"I want to show you something," he stated, taking hold of her arm. Despite her protests, he continued to pull her along to the third floor's west wing. He stopped outside of two large doors and turned to her. "Close your eyes."
"I'd rather not," she muttered, glancing at the door suspiciously.
Noticing her apprehension, Draco chuckled. "It's nothing nefarious," he promised. Sighing impatiently, Hermione shut her eyes and allowed him to lead her into the room. "Open them," he said when they stood in the center.
With her eyes now open, she looked around the library. "This is...this...Malfoy, this library is incredible," she said, staring in awe at shelves and shelves of books.
Shrugging, he sat down on the nearest sofa and said, "I thought you might be bored. You never leave your room, and I thought this might be a nice alternative. You can come here whenever you'd like."
She chose not to point out that, as her warden, he had never given her permission to visit any other room besides the dining room. Instead she wandered through the aisles selecting the titles she wished to read. Taking an armful of books back to the couch, she set them down on the floor and sorted through them. It was a book on wandless healing spells that caught her eye first. Perhaps if she could master the art, she could help Draco heal his various wounds.
"Interesting choices," he commented as he looked at each title.
Opening the book to the first page, she replied, "My interests are teasingly diverse." And for the first time since she arrived at Malfoy Manor, Draco laughed.
Harry Potter frantically paced the Minister's office. "It's been weeks," he shouted. "How could you let her go there alone? I'm assembling a team, and we're going to get her out of there."
Kingsley shook his head. "She won't leave until her task is complete," he replied. "You and I both know that."
The pacing ceased, and Harry slumped into the nearest chair. "Why her?" he implored.
Leaning forward, the Minister smiled. "Because she may be able to break whatever spell he is under."
Draco stood in front of the mirror once more, as he had done every day since receiving the gift. For the first time, his reflection changed. He was once again unmarked, but beside him stood Granger. She smiled and wound her arms around his waist. And then she kissed his cheek. He knew the mirror's magic well, but couldn't believe his heart truly desired her. Turning away, he fingered the dead rose petals. Two more weeks was all he had. It wasn't nearly enough time to make her fall in love with him. No one would ever love him.
Hermione was his opposite in every way - muggleborn, pure, kind, unflaggingly loyal. If she broke the spell, he wasn't sure he could let her go after that. It was after she had healed his most recent wounds that he realized he felt...something for her. She had awoken just as the sun rose to find him curled up in front of her door. Blood trickled down the right side of his face from a half torn off ear. She remained calm as she cleaned up the viscous fluid and wandlessly repaired his ear. After summoning Winkles, they moved him to her bed. He spent the day drifting in and out of consciousness, but whenever his eyes opened she was by his side.
Perhaps she could learn to love him, given enough time. But time was not on Draco Malfoy's side.
"If Shacklebolt won't let us rescue her, we'll have to do it on our own," Harry stated.
Ron Weasley stared at him, slack-jawed. "We can't just go into Malfoy Manor," he replied. "You've heard the stories."
Shaking his head, Harry ran a hand through his dark, unruly locks. "It's Hermione, Ron. We have to help her. I don't care that she can break some stupid curse. I refuse to leave her there a moment longer."
"Let's go then."
Hermione stared out her bedroom window as rain splashed the grounds of the manor. The weeks had passed fairly pleasantly. She and Draco often spent their days reading in the library and took their meals together, but once the sun went down he retreated to the east wing. She had only seen his transformation once, but the after effects were a daily reminder of it. It pleased her that he allowed her to heal his wounds. If only she could figure out which curse he was under.
"May I come in?" he asked, peaking into her room. Continuing to watch the rain, Hermione nodded. He took a seat near her on the bench beneath the window. "What's wrong?"
"Why won't you tell me what happened to you?" she asked. "Maybe there's something I can do to help you."
He leaned against the window frame and sighed. There was no way he could tell her. The logical part of him believe that if he told her, she would gladly say those three little words he needed to hear, but she wouldn't mean them. And by Merlin, he wanted her to mean them.
"Do you think we ever could have been friends?" he asked in lieu of an answer. Her eyebrows rose in surprise at his unusual question. "I mean, if we hadn't been in rival houses, and my father hadn't poisoned me with all that rubbish about blood status. Do you think we could have gotten along?"
"You mean like we are now?" she asked. Draco nodded as his lips dipped into a frown. "You're not the boy you used to be. Whatever this curse is, it's changed you. You've allowed me to see you at your most vulnerable. You've let me heal your wounds. Why won't you let me help you break this curse though?"
Rising, he extended his hand to her. "There's something I want to show you," he said. He waited patiently for her to accept his hand. Finally, she slipped her smaller hand across his rough, calloused palm. Silently, he led her to the east wing of the third floor and allowed her into his room. Positioning her in front of the Mirror of Erised, he instructed her to tell him what she saw.
Hermione was silent for a minute as she gazed deeply into the mirror. "Harry and Ron," she finally told him. "We're at the Burrow, sitting around the kitchen table in our pajamas, drinking tea."
His shoulders slumped. "I'm letting you go," he decided.
"But-" she protested.
He held up a hand to silence her. "I've kept you here against your will long enough," he explained sadly. "You deserve to be happy. And clearly your friends can do that better than I can."
"What about you?" she asked, wiping away the moisture that had begun to collect in the corners of her eyes. She didn't know why she was crying. Were they tears of happiness for her release or sorrow that she failed him?
He glanced at the rose briefly before looking down at the hardwood floor. "Maybe I don't deserve it," he replied. "I've never been a good person, and this curse is my punishment. There's clearly nothing I can do to change it."
When he looked up again, Hermione stood in front of him. She was so close he could smell the lavender and jasmine of her perfume. He could pick out the flecks of gold in her brown eyes. He could touch her if he didn't fear she would flinch. "You don't belong here, locked up with some monster," he continued. It took a great deal of courage to reach for her hand. He held it tightly, tracing his thumb over her soft skin. "I'm sorry for everything I've ever done to you."
Her free hand cupped his scarred cheek as she suppressed a sob. "Let me stay and help you. Please," she replied, her voice breaking as he shook his head to deny her request. Letting go of her hand, he stepped away from her. Picking up a rose petal, he transfigured it into a fully blooming red rose and handed it to her. "What's this, a parting gift?" She threw it to the floor and glared at him with shining eyes.
"Please, Hermione," he pleaded, picking it up to press into her hand. "Please just go. I can't keep you any longer. I won't keep you from your happiness any longer."
A single tear slid down her cheek and wetted the rose's petals. "Goodbye, Draco," she murmured, pressing her lips to his cheek.
He watched her turn and exit the room. It wouldn't be long before she was gone. Turning back, he saw her reflection in the mirror. He checked behind him, but found he was alone. Taking a seat on the floor, he continued to stare longingly at the curly-haired brunette who smiled only for him.
Hermione stepped past the gates of Malfoy Manor and realized she had no wand. She stared at the house, wondering if she should go back when two sets of hands took hold of her arms. A terrified scream tore from her throat before a hand clamped over her mouth.
"Hermione, it's us." She glanced to the side to see Harry smiling at her. Ron removed his hand from her mouth when she calmed down. "How did you escape?"
"He let me go," she replied, her eyes trained on the manor looming before her. Harry let go of her arm, but Ron tightened his hold. "Ron, that hurts."
He eased his grip, but didn't let go of her. "We should kill him," he seethed.
"I thought you didn't want to go in there," Harry reminded him, content to leave now that they had Hermione back.
Ron's blue eyes darkened when he spotted a head of blond hair in an upstairs window. She too spotted him and smiled sadly. "We can't just let him get away this," the redhead argued, his face tinged crimson in his anger. "What if he hurt her? Or he does this to the next person the Ministry sends to subdue him? We can't let him continue hurting people."
"He never hurt me," Hermione protested. Ron ignored her and let go of her arm. With his wand drawn, he pushed open the front gate and charged towards the house.
"He's right, Hermione. We can't allow this to happen to anyone else," Harry stated, following his friend.
Hermione ran behind them, praying they wouldn't find Draco. Harry and Ron split up, searching the first and second floors. She waited until they went their separate ways to sneak up to the third floor. Turning right at the top of the stairs, she ran down the hall to the room where she had left him. Draco stood in front of the table covered in dead rose petals, watching as more dropped.
"Hurry," she warned him. "Harry and Ron are here."
Draco didn't turn to face her, but continued to watch the rose. There were only two petals left, and he knew they would fall soon. June had just begun, and with it would come his twenty-first birthday. The change would be permanent. "It might be better to die," he murmured.
"Please, Draco," she begged. Taking hold of his arm, she turned him around to face her. "Please let me help you."
Footsteps pounded down the hallway, and they would soon be out of time. It was no or never, Draco decided, as he pulled her close. "I love you," he whispered. Despair was evident in her eyes as he leaned down to kiss her. If it were his last kiss, he was glad it was with Hermione Granger. She returned his kiss with equal passion before the footsteps stopped.
"Let her go," Ron shouted. Hermione turned to see her best friend with his wand raised in their direction.
"Ron, no," she told him. "I love him."
The arms around her waist slipped away as Draco fell to the floor. Hermione and Ron watched him convulse. "I swear I didn't do anything," he told her, lowering his wand once more.
The scars faded, fresh cuts closed and disappeared before her eyes. When he stopped moving, Hermione knelt down beside him and touched Draco's cheek. His breathing was shallow, but at least he was still alive. With his eyes still closed, he moved his hand to cover hers against the side of his face. Her tears dripped one by one onto his chin, his uncovered cheek, his lips. Finally, his eyes blinked open to reveal gray orbs. Hermione filled his vision and he tightened his hold on her hand.
"I lied, Draco," she murmured. "It was you I saw in the mirror."
"You're beautiful," he whispered.
Stifling a sob, she smiled. "So are you."