A/N: My sincere apologies for the four months that I've gone without an update. I know it's not an excuse, but I've been terribly busy with my first term of college. However, I now have my own laptop, so I should be updating more frequently. Thanks to all of you for your patience and loyalty. Special thanks to those who sent reviews, or who added this story to their alerts or favorites; I really appreciate it.

NOTE: This chapter has been revised SIGNIFICANTLY as of January 10, 2011. Thank you to vamp1987 who pointed out some things that made me reconsider how the plot was progressing. I hope it's still enough fluff, but it's kind of dark and angsty.

Last time: Hermione found her way to the Beast's castle, only to find that the master was very angry. However, with persuasion from Lumiere and Cogsworth, the Beast offered to let Hermione stay in his castle as long as she wanted. He asked to have dinner with her, and when he saw her, he thought she was beautiful. Hermione told the castle staff that she was a witch, and Adam (the Beast) revealed that he was a human under an enchantment. Upon learning this and hearing Adam's story, she promised to help him break then enchantment.

11. Who is the Monster, and Who is the Man?

As the first golden sunbeams rose above the horizon, Hermione sighed and leaned her body over the stone railing on the balcony. She turned her head to the left, watching the sunrise, thinking about last night.

When the Beast had first wanted to throw her from the castle, Hermione hadn't seen any of his humanity, but last night, as she spent time talking to Adam – that's what she tried to call him in her head – she could see the human that had once been. As they sipped their soup, it became painfully obvious, however, that he wasn't used to human company and had lost the ability to use utensils. In an effort to make him feel less uncomfortable, Hermione tipped her bowl back slightly into her mouth, and Adam followed her lead and did the same. He even smiled at her, and Hermione gave him a small and hesitant smile back.

In between the courses, they talked about themselves. Mainly the Beast asked about Hermione's life, since his current one was dull (and definitely not something he wanted to either talk about or reflect on). Hermione had told him that she lived in England two and a half centuries into the future, in a part of London, and had traveled to France through a magical mirror. Adam seemed intrigued about the mirror, but Hermione only frowned when he asked how it worked.

"Well," she said thoughtfully, moving around her potatoes with her fork, "I'm not sure, exactly, of course, but I think it's a wormhole of some sort – perhaps wizards created a huge wormhole that spanned over two countries and hundreds of years, and used some magic to convert it from a tunnel to a mirror passage."

She had frowned for the rest of the third course, trying to work it out, promising herself that she would go to the library as soon as she returned to modern times, and she would learn exactly how the mirrors worked. Finally she asked the Beast – Adam, she corrected herself – what he did during the day.

"I mean, you must find that you have lots of time to do things," Hermione said. Perhaps this hadn't been the best question; it would remind him of all the things he could be doing if he were human. She stared at her plate and ate her steak while Adam was silent.

"Mostly, I stay in my quarters and brood," he admitted finally, and his voice was dark and filled with self-loathing. "When I'm especially angry, I rip things to shreds – destroy family heirlooms – yell at my servants. Usually, I'm alone with no one to talk to."

A wave of guilt flowed through Hermione. He was lonely – he hadn't had any guests for years – and she was planning to leave as soon as she could. Oh, how could she tell him about her duty to Maurice right now? Sitting quietly, Hermione cut up the remainder of her steak and forked it into her mouth.

Since last night, a battle had raged within Hermione – one that was no closer to settling itself than it was when it began at dinner the previous evening. Should she leave immediately to find Maurice, or should she remain her and break her promise to Belle's father – and Belle – to help a tortured and lonely man, to whom she had also pledged her help.

The sun continued to rise over the trees in the distance, turning the sky from a beautiful and fierce fuchsia to a pale orange before the entire golden sun had risen, and the sky above looked like a perfect periwinkle ceiling. Hermione sighed, stretching her arms high above her head as she lifted herself onto her toes, and she padded back into the bedroom, closing the French doors behind her.

To her surprise, Madame Grande de la Bouche was awake and waiting for Hermione when she returned. She looked excited, and the doors to her armoire kept opening and closing with a snap.

"So, my dear, what are you going to wear to breakfast this morning?" she asked, in a sing-song voice. "I have a most lovely green silk dress – I think it would be perfect." She pulled out a pale green dress, the very color of new tree leaves, and Hermione spread it out on the bed to look at it better. With golden stitching, little flowers and trails of ivy decorated the bodice. The skirt and sleeves, were a darker silk – the jeweled color of lush grass.

"It's beautiful," Hermione said with an appreciative smile. She pulled off her nightgown, did up her corset top, and pulled the dress on. Her curls from last night were a bit unruly but still pretty, so Hermione simply pulled some of them back with a gold ribbon. With a final glance in the mirror and a resigned sigh, she closed the bedroom door behind her and began to walk to the dining hall.

The Beast sat at the head of the table, already diving into a plate of what looked like bacon and eggs, some of it getting into his fur. Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or to be disgusted. Silently, she walked to the table and pulled out a chair a couple down from him. He finally looked up, a huge bite of eggs and bacon in his mouth, and with an embarrassed swallow, grinned sheepishly at Hermione.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Hermione," he said in a gruff growl. Hermione nodded her head, and the servants brought her silverware and a plate heaped full of toast, scrambled eggs and bacon.

"Adam," Hermione said slowly, as she poked at her food, "I need to leave your castle for a brief time." She had thought about this as she had gotten dressed and decided that leaving to fetch Maurice and to bring him back here would be the best idea.

The Beast looked at her sharply. Only one year remained until the curse became permanent, and Hermione wanted to leave. A pang of longing, regret, and hate coursed through him; he should have known this feeling of hope he had was too good to last.

"Let me explain," she continued as she smoothed out her dress. "When I traveled here from England, another girl, Belle, traveled the other way through the mirror into my world. She asked me to protect her father and stay with him while she was in England, but then I revealed myself as a witch and we both fled his cottage in order to survive. He went on ahead of me, and I became lost in the woods two nights ago. The wolves chased me here, but I have to find him. I have to keep the promise I made to Belle."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears as she recounted her story, and by the time she had finished, the Beast's anger had mellowed to pity. He couldn't help the bitterness that infiltrated his voice though, as he said, "What about the promise you made to me last night? Does that count for nothing? You promised that you would help me lift the enchantment."

"I know," she said miserably. "I had hoped that if I could bring Belle back through the mirror, then she and Maurice would be fine here, and I can return to help you look for a way to break the curse."

The Beast felt torn. On one hand, he hated the thought of Hermione leaving, but since she planned to return to the castle after she found this Maurice, perhaps… perhaps he could trust her, but he needed to be absolutely sure that she would come back to him.

"Promise me," he said suddenly, "that if I let you go, you'll come back. I need your word."

Hermione, who had been staring at her hands while Adam had been silent, now looked up at him. His blue eyes stared at her with a powerful intensity, and she felt a strange heat rise from her stomach.

"I promise," she said, looking at him. "I promise you Adam, that as soon as I find Maurice, I will return to the castle with him, and we will help you break the curse."

They stared at each other a moment before both looking away. Hermione felt oddly self-conscious, and started fiddling with her half-eaten eggs. The Beast sensed her discomfort and stood up.

"Come," he said, stretching out a paw, "I want to show you something before you leave."

Tilting her head to the side with her mouth pursed, Hermione nonetheless pulled her chair out from the table and held onto the Beast's furry arm as they walked down the corridor.

At long last, they reached a part of the castle that Hermione had not seen during her stay. Although the entire castle was gloomy, this part looked especially ill-cared for – thick dust covered the carpets and minimal furniture, and deep scratches adorned the dark grey walls, and the flames of the candles on the wall sputtered.

"Adam, where are we?" she asked at last, a note of fear in her voice, as he began to push open a door. She didn't have her wand on her – maybe he would harm her or maybe something else would. Hermione began running through possible plans of attack, when she heard her companion answer her:

"We are in the West Wing," the Beast said, as he turned to look down at the witch, bitterness clear in his expression. "I have never brought anyone but my servants here. Even they are forbidden to enter this part of the castle without my permission." With that response, he pushed the door fully open, and it creaked as it revealed a room, dimly lit from a window on the far side.

It took a moment for Hermione's eyes to adjust to the dark as she stepped into the room, but when she could see, she gasped.

Everything in the room was broken, damaged, gouged, scratched in some way. A broken bed-frame stood to the right, and on the left, a picture with huge tears in the canvas adorned the wall. Taking her arm of the Beast's, Hermione walked over to the painting, a curious look on her face. She held up the canvas to see the picture better, and her mouth opened in surprise.

It was a portrait, she could see, and though the subject in the painting looked arrogant and spoiled, she could see the same intense sapphire eyes that she looked at from across the breakfast table that morning. Upon this revelation, she turned around, and she saw that Adam was right behind her.

His face held so much pain and longing, and Hermione wanted nothing more than to comfort him. She crossed the short distance between them and wrapped her arms around his middle as far as they could stretch.

They only stood like that for a few moments before Hermione pulled away, but she tilted her face upward to look at the Beast.

"Thank you for showing me that," she said quietly. "I know how difficult this must be for you." She patted him on the arm and turned toward the entrance of the room.

"Hermione," Adam called as he stretched out a paw and placed it on her shoulder, "That's not what I wanted to show you." His mouth stretched into a smile, and Hermione blushed a faint pink.

"Oh," she said, "Well, by all means then." She walked to stand next to him. "What did you want to show me?"

The Beast crossed the room until Hermione noticed a bright pink glow emanating from what appeared to be a glass bell jar. As they grew closer, Hermione saw a fully open red rose underneath the jar, and realized it was the source of the light.

Gently lifting the glass jar from the rose, Adam touched the rose with a single claw. At that instant, a petal dropped to the table. He withdrew his hand and looked at Hermione, longing apparent in his expression.

"This rose," he murmured, "is the timekeeper of my curse. When the last petal drops on my coming birthday, the enchantment becomes permanent." Then, he looked back at the rose, silent.

Turning away from the rose, Hermione touched him lightly on the arm. "Adam, I'm so sorry that this happened to you. No one deserves this."

He faced her, bitter irony in his tight lips. "No, Hermione," he said, "I did deserve this. That's what makes it unbearable – if I can't find a way to reverse the enchantment, I'll have a permanent reminder of my selfishness."

"If you would just tell me how to break the enchantment–"

He shook his head, irritation becoming apparent. "I can't, Hermione. If I tell you how to break this curse, then I'll stay this way forever."

With a frustrated sigh, Hermione turned to the still uncovered rose and touched a petal with a single fingertip. Then, after a quick glance at the Beast, she replaced the glass cover and began to walk toward the entrance of the room.

"Come on," she said to his immobile form, "let's go outside and walk in the gardens and leave this gloomy room."

Silence.

"Adam," she said again, "why don't we go outside? It'll be so much nicer in the spring air."

No response.

"Adam–"

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

Hermione's eyes widened as his fierce roar. She inched closer to him. "Wh-what's wrong?"

He spun around, his eyes wild. "I am a beast, Hermione, a monster. I am hideous and covered with hair. Can you not see that?"

The witch felt the blood drain from her face, but she didn't back away. "I know what you are, Adam, and you are not a monster."

"Of course I'm a monster," he spat. "I have fangs and–"

"No," she said emphatically, taking slow measured steps toward him, "you are not a monster. I met a monster when I arrived here – he would have raped me if I hadn't tried to make him unconscious. He wanted me to marry him without giving me any say in the matter. He is the monster."

"Then what am I?"

A sincere expression on her face, Hermione said simply, "You are a man, a man who has convinced himself that he doesn't deserve hope or happiness."

She reached toward him and standing on her toes, stroked his face. Something in his stomach began to stir, and he stepped away.

Pulling her hand back, Hermione gave him a small smile. "Shall we go out into the gardens?"

He nodded. "I'd like that," he said, extending his arm. Resting her hand on it, they walked from the room together, as another petal fell.