monster, monster
by Nanaho-Hime
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Beauty and the Beast in any of its forms.
Notes: For acciohope's Beauty and the Beast challenge. AU story in which Teddy is actually a werewolf under a curse. Based on the Disney film, Beauty and the Beast. Would tell you more but then you wouldn't actually read now, would you? ;)
Chapter 1: Indigo
-o-o-o-
"What are you frightened of?"
She doesn't breathe as he circles around her, whispering in her ear. His face is tired and lined, although he does not appear to be much older than she. His eyes are blueblueblue. His hair is long and unkempt. His smile is cold.
(his smile is cruel)
He buries his nose into her neck as his thumb runs circles against the inside of her wrist. He takes a deep breath and she cringes.
"You should be a tad more adept at hiding your fear, love," he mumbles, "especially around a werewolf, we react rather poorly to fear."
He tugs on a strand of her hair, "You'd think they'd teach you that back in Defense Against the Dark Arts."
He shakes his head in mock disbelief. When he lets go of her, she releases the breath she'd been holding in. Her hands tremble slightly as she smooths back her tousled hair. She looks him in the eye when she pleads with him.
(His eyes are blueblueblue. His eyes are cruel)
"Please let me go," the steadiness of her voice is admirable, "please, just let me go."
His laugh rumbles from his chest; it is gravelly and rough and not at all a pleasant sound.
"And why would I do that?" Such a precious treasure that's come stumbling into my humble abode."
He laughs his throaty laugh again and moves closer to her, "The beautiful eldest Weasley daughter, the girl with veela blood."
She steps back and he notices, bitterness in his eyes.
"Do I repulse you, princess?" he spits the words out at her and she flinches. He grabs her chin and tilts her head so that she looks him straight in the eye, "you came willingly to save your father's life. You knew full well what you were walking into. In real life, a pretty face will get you out of a lot of scrapes."
He sneers, tightening his grip on her chin, "Unfortunately, it won't get you out of this. I tend to collect on what is mine."
The anger in his eyes paralyzes her. He takes note of her trembling hands and the freckles standing starkly against her pale skin, before letting her go, as if he's been burned.
"If you do as I say, I won't hurt you, so you needn't be afraid," he turns his back to her, ready to exit the heavy mahogany door, "but, I'm afraid I won't be letting you go any time soon, so I would try to get comfortable if I were you."
The thick double doors close behind him with a resounding thud.
(Victoire cries herself to sleep the first night)
-o-o-o-
She stays in the oversized bed for two days before she decides to make the best of her situation and find something to help her wile away the days. Someone's been shoving trays of food through the slot in her door, and she's surprised by the opulence of her options. Filet mignon and lobsters and red velvet cake for dessert, all served by a mysterious hand in the evening.
She picks at her food half heartedly before shoving the nearly full tray out of the slot. When she fiddles with the ornate doorknobs she is surprised to find the doors unlocked. She has not seen the werewolf since the first day and that gives her courage.
She looks into the mirror running her fingers through her strawberry blonde hair. Her blue eyes are rimmed red from her incessant crying and, in these last three days, her face has become thin and gaunt.
What she really wants (though she is not optimistic) is a good few books, a good few books and the chance to maybe go outside for some fresh air.
(the stone castle is still, the stone castle is stifling, she misses her family, she misses the sea)
Mustering her courage she takes tentative steps outside the double doors. The hallway is dimly lit, a thick red carpet lines the floors and portraits of menacing men and women hang on the ornate, dark wood walls.
The number of rooms to explore in the hallway alone is endless. Soon, Victoire's timidity and fear are long forgotten as she excitedly runs her fingers along beautifully woven tapestries and studies the biographies of the men and women whose portraits hang in each room. Exquisite necklaces hang on chair arms, earrings and bracelets lie on tables, all covered with dust as though forgotten by the previous owners of the castle.
Vic takes a particular liking to one locket, and hesitates only momentarily before blowing the dust off of it and placing it over her head. It is heavy around her neck but the detail and craftsmanship of the necklace are too superb to leave lying about in empty rooms for no one to appreciate.
When she finally arrives at the double doors at the end of the hallway, she sees the carving into the door, rougher than the other engravings. It looks as though someone had carved it into the door in a sudden fit and the writing is almost illegible.
(stay out. those who enter will die)
It should frighten her but it doesn't. Victoire is a curious girl by nature, and if anything, the message beckons her forward.
The room is pitch black, save for a pale glowing rose in the center of the room. The rose is clearly enchanted, standing upright in a glass encasement. It is a mesmerizing sight.
She approaches the rose slowly, almost reverently. Just when her fingertip is about to graze the glass encasement a powerful grip tightens around her shoulder. Her blood runs cold.
"Forgive me," his voice is low, "but I wasn't aware that you can't read, because I'm pretty sure it is written very clearly that you are not to enter this room."
Without waiting for a response from her, he drags her away from the rose throwing her out the door. The werewolf presses her shoulders into the walls, leering down at her.
"Listen to me," he is shouting now, for the first time since she has entered the castle, "you will never touch that rose, you will never go anywhere near that rose, do you understand me?"
She nods numbly. He catches sight of the locket around her neck and snorts.
"Is this exciting for you, princess?" he spits out the words, "Is this an adventure for you?"
He grabs the locket and tears the chain, flinging it away from them.
"Try and understand your situation," his voice is low again, his eyes sickeningly condescending, "you are a prisoner here and that's all there is too it."
She curses herself as the tears form in her eyes. She is lonely and sad and scared. And he's is horrid and ugly and miserable. And they are stuck together.
(forever and ever and ever)
The sight of her tears seems to quell his anger. With a final look of withering disdain, he leaves her. When she can no longer here is muted steps on the carpet she crumples to the ground, crying into her knees.
-o-o-o-
"You know," the candlestick, mumbles to the werewolf, "I don't think you understand this concept of 'getting the girl to fall in love with you'".
Ted grunts.
The candlestick, Ivan, continues to stare into the crystal ball as the girls heartbreaking cries ring throughout the bedroom.
"You're an arse," Ivan sighs, "seriously, would it kill you to be nice to her?"
Teddy shrugs.
Yes, a part of him feels guilty. Because she's young and pretty. Because she's scared and lonely and he knows it. A part of him wishes they could have a conversation and she'd fall in love with him.
But the other part, the other part that is scarred and twisted and ugly, hates her for her beauty and her popularity and wants to spite her for her happiness.
Dorothy, the elderly ghost who haunts the east wing, gives him a sympathetic eye.
"You know," Ivan stretches out on the sofa, "you don't have much time left."
(for who could ever love a beast)
"I know."
A/N: yes, well, it's different? It kind of took on a life of it's own. In any case, please review!