Hermione, after turning down Draco's proposal, had wandered out to the back of the small property she shared with her brother. She had a marvelous view from this hilltop, of a rushing river and far-off mountains, and as she gazed out over the majesty she wished, for the thousandth time or more, that she could leave this village and find some true adventure. Most people thought she had spent too much time in the dreamworld of her books; they couldn't understand why she might possibly want more than the daily routine provided by their small town. Draco, certainly, would never understand Hermione's dreaming of anything beyond what he could offer her. Only Harry ever even vaguely understood how she felt. He was all she had in the world of family, and the one stipulation of her dreams was that whatever adventures might come to pass for her, they would not result in great separation for Hermione and her beloved brother.

A shrill whinny broke through her reverie, and she looked around wildly. The horse, their only horse which had just the previous day carried her brother away, had found his way back to their small house. He had clearly run a long way, judging by the eagerness with which he plunged his mouth into the watering trough.

"Where's Harry??" she asked the horse. She hadn't really expected an answer, of course, but she tethered him to the gatepost while she dashed inside for her traveling cloak. He pawed the ground anxiously, his eyes rolling with terror, and it was several minutes before Hermione could soothe the beast to the point where she could mount. "You have to take me to him, he must be in trouble!"
She had been gone perhaps half an hour when Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and the asylum warden arrived. Draco pounded lazily on the door. "Hermione! Harry!" he called sharply, but of course there was no response.

"They have to come home sometime," he growled. "Goyle -- stay here and stand watch at the door. The instant they come home, come and find me."
Night had fallen before Hermione's hours of desperate searching through the woods brought her to the castle gate. The horse shied and whinnied shrilly, unwilling to pass through the gates again. She dismounted and stroked his muzzle, murmuring softly. Leaving him tethered outside, she cautiously made her way through the doors.

"Harry?" she called, her voice echoing through the empty halls. "Harry, are you here?" Spotting a staircase, she began to climb, a mounting sense of dread welling in her heart. Slowly, she moved throughout the palace, calling her brother's name.

A rough spurt of coughing made her stop cold on the landing of a stairwell. "H-Harry?"

"Hermione?" He sneezed.

"Harry!" She dashed the rest of the way down the stairs, finding herself in an icy dungeon. Harry's slight form lay wheezing in a corner, surrounded by dirty, matted straw. He was chained to a wall.

"Harry, where are we?"

"How did you find me?" he asked weakly. She grasped his hand.

"You're freezing. I have to get you out of there."

"Listen to me, Hermione. I want you to get out of here. This is Slytherin Dungeon, and it's guarded by a -- a --" His voice broke off in another fit of coughing.

Hermione moved to press a hand to Harry's burning forehead, but before she touched him, she was roughly grabbed by an unseen hand and whirled around.

"Who are you? Why have you come here?" growled a harsh voice from the shadows.

"I -- I'm here to collect my brother," she replied, more courageously than she felt. "Please, I beg you, let him go. He's sick."

"Then he shouldn't have trespassed here!"

"But he could die...please, I'll do anything!"

"There's nothing you can do...he's my prisoner." The voice was still growling, but not quite as harshly.

Hermione hesitated. "Take me instead."

There was a pause. "You...you would take his place?"

"No, Hermione!" cried Harry, still wheezing.

"If I did," she said sharply, "would you let him go?"

"Only if you promise to stay here forever."

She frowned slightly. The voice's owner was still cloaked in shadow. "Come forward, into the light."

Slowly he moved...first one hairy leg, then another...the massive form of the Beast towered over her. His thick, red hair hung around his face like a lion's mane, his shaggy body hunched. She shuddered and pressed her face to Harry's shoulder.

"Hermione, I forbid you! You don't know what you're doing!"

Sighing, Hermione pulled away from him. She stood and faced the Beast. She could barely stand the thought of what she was about to do, but if it was the only way to save her brother's life... "I promise."

"Done!" said the Beast, and moved past her to break the chains binding Harry to the wall. He rushed to embrace his sister. "Hermione, listen to me, I can't leave you here, I can't -- "

The Beast siezed Harry roughly by his cloak and dragged him from the room, ignoring Hermione's pleas for him to wait. "Please, spare my sister," Harry begged the creature.

"She's no longer yours to be concerned with," snapped the Beast, "but have no fear. No harm will come to her." He dragged Harry outside to the courtyard, where a horseless carriage had stood moldering for many years. Pulling open one rusted door, he shoved the young man inside and slammed it again. "Take him to the village!" he ordered, and the wheels, vine-covered from ages of unuse, slowly began to turn. It rolled down the path and out of the gate into the forest.
Hermione watched the carriage from a small window in the dungeon wall. She was not a very emotional girl, but now she gave in to a great storm of weeping. As the Beast came back into the room, he saw that she had curled herself up into a ball on the same spot where her brother had lain. "You didn't even let me say goodbye!" she shouted. "I'll never see him again, and I didn't...get to...say goodbye..." She continued crying.

The Beast was a little uncomfortable with this. He had spent the last nine years in complete solitude, save for the invisible servants who prepared his meals and cleaned the castle. Now, suddenly no longer alone, he surprised himself by feeling guilty about causing the girl so much pain. "I'll show you to your room."

"My -- my room?" she asked, looking up at him. "But I thought -- "

"Do you want to stay in Slytherin Dungeon?" he demanded.

"No."

"Then follow me." She rose and trailed in his great shadow as he stomped up the stairs.
They walked through the splendid, though rather dark, castle up to a large door. He opened it and ushered her inside. The room in which Hermione found herself was warm and comfortable, furnished in red and gold, with a roaring fire in the fireplace. "This is Gryffindor Tower," he said gruffly. "It's yours. The castle is your home now, so you may go wherever you like -- except the third floor."

"What's on the third -- "

"It's forbidden!" he yelled, so fiercely that she shrank back timidly. She sank into an armchair by the fire, and he moved to the door.

"You...you will join me for dinner. That's not a request!" he added, and shut the door harshly as he left. Hermione stared at the fire, tears still leaking from her eyes, and wondered where her brother was now.
The horseless carriage had deposited Harry at the edge of the village. Coughing, wheezing, and shaking with cold, he had dragged himself back to the small cottage and curled up under a heavy blanket. Goyle, asleep on the woodpile, did not see him, and was himself unnoticed by Harry, sick as he was.

"I must sleep," Harry told himself. "In the morning, I'll go in search of that castle, and I'll get her out -- or die trying."
The Beast paced back and forth before the great fire in his dining hall. The servants had prepared a sumptious banquet and departed, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Could she be the one? he wondered. The one who will save me? How can she ever learn to love me? She's beautiful...I don't remember ever seeing such a beautiful girl before. All that brown hair, and those dark eyes... He paused in his pacing, then continued. But where is she? I told her to come down! There was a stirring of movement, and the door at the far end of the hall opened. Hermione entered. The Beast stopped pacing at once and watched her.

Hermione moved with a kind of slow grace to the table and sat down. Having gotten over her first shock at the sight of him, she could now look at the Beast more steadily, and grow more accustomed to his appearance. He did have rather handsome eyes, she observed. Bright blue, like the sky -- not steely gray like Draco's.

The buffet in front of her seemed to puzzle Hermione just a little. "Eat whatever you like," the Beast told her. She spooned up a few mouthfuls of the different foods onto her plate and started sampling, surprised at how hungry she was.

"I am the Beast," he said, still watching her. "You may call me that. May...may I ask your name?"

She regarded him a little coldly, still smarting from his ill treatment of her sick brother, but replied, "Hermione."

"Hermione." He nodded. "I, uh, I hope you like it here." If he had skin instead of hair, she thought, he would be blushing. For the life of her, she couldn't understand why.

She made no response to this, but finished what was on her plate. "If you will excuse me...Beast...I'm very tired." She stood up quickly and walked to the door by which she had entered the room. At the threshold, she glanced back at him, a small scowl crossing her features.

"You've got dirt on your nose, did you know? Good night." The door closed softly behind her as she left.

The Beast let out a bellow of irritation and frustration. Turning to the door opposite the one Hermione had used, he raced up to the third floor, where he kept the enchanted rose under a glass dome for protection. Beside it lay a small hand mirror, the only other magical item in the whole castle, which he seized. He glared at his reflection -- he did have dirt on his nose, blast it -- and snarled, "Show me the girl."

The face of the Beast in the mirror swirled in a violent array of colors, then cleared to show Hermione. She was seated in that same chair by the fire in her room, looking resolute. "Humph," he could hear her muttering to herself. "He throws my brother out into the cold to die, then tries to make nice with me? I don't want to have anything to do with him!"

"I'm fooling myself," the Beast sighed as the image vanished. He put the mirror back down and hung his head. "She'll never see me as anything but a monster."
Coming up: Beastly tantrums, books, and a bloody battle.