A/N:So, this chapter is shorter than the last one, but the update was faster! And now that I've finished outlining the rest of the story, I can say that there will be two more chapters (three if I decide to split the last one into two) and an epilogue.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story, added it to their favorites or to their alerts, or added me to their favorites or alerts. Right now this story has 70 faves, 70 reviews, and over 100 alerts. However, I know I'm not hearing from all my readers, so if you haven't reviewed this story yet, please do so! I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter - good, bad, or otherwise.

Also, if you like this story, please add me to author alert; once I finish this story, there will be a sequel called A Courtly Romance. I already have the first 2.5 chapters written; lately it's been my break from working on this one. I also plan to upload a one-shot which occurs in-between the first and second stories; the working title is A Conversation Overheard.

So, without further adieu... chapter 17.

17. If Only

The next few days were unbearable for Adam. Hermione had remained in the castle, and based on the shadows that had begun to appear around her eyes, she wasn't sleeping much. Once she didn't show up for breakfast, and Adam retreated to the West Wing, roaring and scratching any remaining furniture. But then his anger turned to nervousness, and he padded around the castle.

He finally found her in the library, hunched over a pile of books, the side of her face sticking to a page, her brown curls splayed all over the table. He shook her gently with a paw. "Hermione, wake up."

Blinking a few times, the witch looked up wearily. "I fell asleep," she said, and then she noticed Adam was right in front of her and she stood up, knocking a book to the floor. "Oh, Adam! Please don't be angry! I know you said that it was useless searching the library, but I... I don't want you to give up."

Adam looked at the floor. "I'm not angry."

"But you are upset, aren't you?" Hermione asked, wringing her hands. "That's why I've been doing my research at night and early in the mornings, so that it wouldn't bother you, and I could still spend as much time with you as possible..."

Raising a paw, Adam silenced her. "Hermione, I'm not upset with you. I'm actually... quite touched," he said, mumbling the last two words. Hermione caught them, though, she smiled, clearly pleased.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're not angry!" she said, reaching forward to hug him around the waist. She let go too soon, though, and she bit her lip. "Did I miss breakfast?"

Adam laughed. "I'm sure we can find something for you in the kitchens." And extending his arm toward the girl-the beautiful, thoughtful, intelligent girl-Adam felt his heart glow as they left the library, walking together.

"I have to do something special for her," he was saying later that day as he paced the West Wing. "But what?"

"Well, there is the usual, Master," Cogsworth replied in his nasally British accent. "Flowers, chocolates, promises you don't intend to keep..."

Adam knocked that idea down with a glare. "Hermione isn't the type to like flowers or chocolates, and I doubt she'd be impressed by a false promise."

Lumiere hopped over, one of his arms raised in the air. "I know! She said she didn't know how she felt about you, oui?" Adam nodded. "Well, then, Master, we shall simply have to put her in a romantic mindset. Tonight we shall prepare a ball that will outdo all others, and you will confess your love for Hermione."

"I don't know if I can quite do that," the prince muttered. But seeing Lumiere's downcast face, he added, "But the ball sounds like a wonderful idea. It's nearly noon, though, will you have enough time to prepare everything for tonight?"

Cogsworth puffed out his chest. "As head of household, I have tremendous faith in my staff-"

"And as maître'd, I can assure you that tonight will go splendidly. We will have candlelight-"

"-and music-"

"-and a gorgeous, dinner with a full pig-"

"-and pastries as light as air-"

"-and an angelic choir, serenading you-"

"That's enough!" the prince roared. Lumiere and Cogsworth winced, and they stopped talking. "Thank you, and uh, sorry. But I get the idea; you don't need to compete with each other to try to impress me with what you have planned for tonight."

"Very well, Master," Cogsworth said, bowing. "I will go begin preparations immediately." And he dashed from the room, waddling down the corridor and out of sight.

Lumiere began to leave as well, hopping toward the entrance of the prince's room, but Adam stopped him, saying, "Lumiere, wait. I'd like you to stay for a moment, if you don't mind."

The candelabra stopped in his tracks. "Oui, monsieur. How can I be of service?"

Adam stared resolutely at the floor. "I need some advice."

"About what, Your Highness?"

Looking around the room, avoiding all eye contact with Lumiere, he muttered, "Women."

"Well, monsieur, I don't like to brag, but you're talking to the right person!" Lumiere said, waggling his eyebrows. "I have had my fair share of women."

Adam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, well, I was wondering about tonight," he said. "I... how do I tell Hermione that I love her?"

Lumiere gave him a sympathetic look. "It is always difficult because we always fear rejection, and you do not have to tell her tonight. Simply show her that you think the world of her. Treat her with respect, value her. I have seen the way she looks at you; she'll come around."

"Before the rose wilts?" Adam asked, gesturing to the glass jar. The majority of the petals were scattered around the base, and only a handful clung to the eternally green stem. "I don't have much time."

Lumiere glanced at the rose as well. "You have three weeks, non? That will be your twenty-first birthday. And then the curse is permanent, or it is broken."

"May 6, 1739," Adam whispered, rubbing a paw over the glass jar. "The day I was born."

"You have time, Master. Three weeks is a long time; I once heard about a mermaid near the Caspian Sea and her prince who fell in love in three days' time." Lumiere chuckled. "Now that is a brief courtship."

The prince tried to smile, but it was forced. He doubted the other prince had had the same disadvantages. He sighed. "I suppose I better bathe and dress for tonight. Please inform Hermione to be ready promptly at 7:00 this evening."

Lumiere left, nodding, and Adam stood in front of the windows, gazing out the dark glass.

HP*BATB*HP*BATB*HP*BATB

Later, Adam reflected, he had never known a more stressful afternoon; after bathing, he'd had his fur brushed until it shone, his teeth brushed and flossed until they gleamed, and the coat hanger had placed a royal blue bow in what should have been his hair. He was wearing an old outfit of his father's that Hermione had kindly enlarged using her magic: a blue tunic with gold embroidery and buttons and a pair of un-ripped black pants. Hermione had also, to his great relief, made a hole in the pants for his tail. And now he could feel it swishing agitatedly as he waited her arrival.

Tonight had to be perfect. If anything could put Hermione in the mood to think romantic thoughts, to feel love for him, it would be what he (or rather Lumiere, Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts) had in store for her. Adam dug his claws into the banister, just to hold onto something, when Hermione entered, resplendent in a golden gown. And for a moment, Adam forgot to breathe.

He forgot that he had a tail and horns and fangs, paws and fur and claws-he was a man, and she was a woman. She blushed at his wide grin, and ducked her chin down. "I think it's too much," she said. "Even for the Yule Ball, I didn't spend this much time getting ready."

The gown hugged her every curve, but still left Adam hungering to see more; the elbow-length gloves, dyed to match the dress, added a bit of elegance. Her hair was curled as it had been the first night, when they'd first had dinner, but it was pulled completely to the side, save for a couple tendrils which floated down right above her ears and framed her face like a halo.

"You look gorgeous," he said, and he meant it with every fiber of his being. Hermione's smile grew wider, and she reached for the crook of his elbow. He guided her down the stairs and to a corner of the room where a special banquet had been prepared.

All throughout dinner, Adam couldn't take his eyes off Hermione. He tried, so that she would feel more at ease, but she just looked so beautiful, so regal, so majestic. He could see her being a queen, his queen, and holding court, greeting dignitaries. The vision seemed so real; he just hoped it would come true.

HP*BATB*HP*BATB*HP*BATB

Hermione barely glanced up as she sipped her soup. She could feel Adam staring at her, and she just felt so self-conscious.

"Do I have something in my teeth?" she asked, grabbing her napkin.

He chuckled. "No, you don't."

"Oh." She replaced her napkin in her lap and fiddled with it for a few moments. Then, from the corners of the room, she began to hear a violin and a cello. "Do you want to dance? I'm not particularly hungry at the moment."

Hermione saw Adam gulp. "I don't know..."

"Dance with her!" Lumiere and Cogsworth hissed from the serving table where they were stationed. Biting the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from giggling, Hermione stood, walked over to Adam, and placed her hands in his, guiding him to the dance floor. Then, putting her arm on his, she began to dance a waltz. Slowly, Adam relaxed and he began leading her around the floor in time to the music.

"It's been awhile since I've done this," Adam said. "Not since I was a young boy."

"I think you're doing quite well." Hermione scooted a little bit away, realizing her chest was nearly touching his. She bit her lip and took a deep breath. "Adam?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Can we... can we stop for a moment? I feel a bit light-headed."

Adam immediately stopped, his eyes wide with concern. "Do you need to sit down? Mrs. Potts, bring us some water, please!" Then, ever so gently, he lifted her up and carried her back to the table.

"Better?" he asked as he set her down, leaning down toward her. Hermione smiled inwardly at his attentiveness.

"Much, thank you." Hermione accepted the glass of water that Mrs. Potts gave her, and she tried to calm down. She felt so confused, so flustered. "Adam, do you mind if we sit for a bit?"

He shook his head. "No. The truth is, I was getting a bit dizzy from dancing anyway. But why don't we go sit on the terrace instead? The fresh air would probably do you good."

Hermione nodded, finishing the glass of water before standing and walking with him out to the stone terrace. It looked out over all the gardens, and in the sky a full moon peered down at them. She glanced at Adam, and saw the silver light reflecting against his fur near his neck, and for a moment, she imagined it was his bare chest... his human chest.

She closed her eyes, remembering the painting. He'd been handsome, the prince. Young and arrogant and too childish in the photograph, but handsome nonetheless. "Adam," Hermione said as they sat down on a bench next to the railing, "how can I break the curse? There has to be a way."

"I never said there wasn't," he murmured. "I just can't tell you what it is." He lifted a claw and ever so gently pushed back a tendril of her hair. "It's simple in theory, but in reality it's so complicated."

"Like Transfiguration," Hermione said, withdrawing her wand. She tore a few leaves from the nearby tree, waved her wand over them a few times, and then suddenly in her palm, she held two doves. They flew away, and she looked back at Adam. "I am a powerful witch. I know I could break the curse if you'd only tell me how."

"I can't, Hermione," Adam whispered. "Just don't. Please don't."

She sighed and pocketed her wand. "Fine." Shivering, she scooted closer to him and leaned her head on his chest. "It's chilly out here, though."

They stayed like that, not speaking for several minutes. Eventually Adam wrapped his arms around her, and she burrowed even closer to him. So safe, so secure. And then Hermione felt her chin being tipped up. Adam held a single claw right under her jawbone and stared into her eyes.

"Hermione," he said, "I'd like to kiss you."

She could feel her eyes widen. "I... I don't think that's a very good idea," she breathed.

He frowned. "Why not?"

Biting her lip, she moved her head out of his reach. "Well, your... your fangs," she said, feeling embarrassed. "I... I don't want to get hurt."

"I see." Adam's eyes became stormy, and he pulled back. Hermione could feel her whole being screaming at her, so leaning forward carefully and slowly, she kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Adam," she said, tears in her eyes. "I know you tried so hard to make this night perfect; I heard Lumiere and Cogsworth talking about it in the kitchen. And I've ruined it."

"No, you haven't." He smiled. "Let's go back inside."

And as he escorted her back into the ballroom, Hermione closed her eyes, remembering the portrait of the prince on the wall. For a moment, she would pretend. If only he were a man, if only they could try, if only. She cursed Merlin for her luck and vowed that in whatever time remained, she would break the curse, with or without Adam's help.