A/N: To all my readers (many of whom have likely abandoned this story), I apologize sincerely for the wait. As I'm sure many writers can attest, sometimes life gets in the way. But as I promised, I will finish this story, and I do already have a sequel in mind (if you're curious about the sequel, please visit my profile page for a synopsis!).

I'm posting three chapters tonight. After this we have two more chapters of resolution (semi-epilogues) and an epilogue that will lead in to the sequel. Because I was on such a roll, I'm hoping I will have this story completed quite soon. I'm eager to say that I've finally written my first complete (fanfiction) novel.

So, without further ado, please enjoy.

20. At the Drawbridge of a Castle

It was dark when Gaston finally returned to Molyneux a few days after he'd traveled to Paris. He'd told no one of his journey, lest they think he was mad (though no one would, of course), so when his midget lackey Le Fou asked where he had been, Gaston informed him that the greatest man in Molyneux had been on an extended hunting trip and had given the meat to widows and poor beggar children. The lie earned him even more admiring glances from both men and women alike, and Le Fou was more devout than ever, constantly by Gaston's side. Though the short man was undoubtedly useful, sometimes Gaston wished he would go away. Two nights after he'd returned to town, while sitting in the tavern, was one of those times.

"Gaston, you're the greatest hunter in the whole world. I can't believe you took down a moose with your bare hands! I mean, I-I can," Le Fou amended quickly, "but that must have been hard. I guess no beast stands a chance against you. And no girl for that matter. Say, when is Belle coming back to town? I sure bet she misses you."

Gaston peered into his mug of ale and glared across the wood table at his lackey. "She'll be back soon enough, I would imagine. The witch said she'd be gone a few weeks, and it's been that long at least."

Silence fell between them, and the only sound in the entire tavern was of the bartender wiping down glasses and clanking them against the bar. Le Fou's eyes darted nervously toward Gaston.

"So where were you, really?" Le Fou finally asked. "When you left town the other night, you said you were only going to Lezoux for some things, and you didn't have your hunting supplies with you." As he saw Gaston raise his hand, Le Fou bent down and covered his head with a whimper. But then the larger man lowered it, and Le Fou sighed in relief. He hated begin slapped.

"Paris. I was in Lezoux picking up a specially ordered dagger when I saw that witch Hermione emerge from an inn and disappear." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that, Le Fou."

"So you followed her to Paris?"

Gaston nodded, taking another long sip from his mug. "The innkeeper told me that she was headed to Paris, and once I got there, to confront her, she had gone. A boy, Griffin, told me that she was headed back to Molyneux. But he didn't know anything more specific, and I've scoured the town, but she's not here. The little twerp lied."

And then slamming his mug onto the table, Gaston scowled. Le Fou scooted away from him, a little terrified by the dark shadows and steely glint in the hunter's eye.

"So what are you going to do?" the lackey asked.

"Keep looking for her, of course," Gaston said, slapping Le Fou on the side of the head hard enough that he was knocked to the floor. "No one messes with Gaston!"

There was a moment of silence as Le Fou sat back on his stool. Then a new voice spoke up. "If you're looking for a witch in Molyneux, I'd try the castle in the forest. They say that place is haunted."

Laughing, Gaston waved a hand dismissing the comment. "No one believes that, do they? Besides, those horror stories of nightly howls have been coming for years, not weeks."

"Still," the bartender said, as he paused in wiping a glass, "you never know."

"Come on, Le Fou," Gaston said. He walked up to the bartender and gave him a few gold coins and winked. "Just to make sure that conversation stays between us."

The bartender smiled, one of his incisors missing. "Of course. But I stick to what I said. You never know what's lurking in that forest... beast, witch, whatever. It could be any number of things."

"Sure," chuckled Gaston, "but we both know it's only the wind and the wolves."

And still laughing, he left the tavern, Le Fou trotting behind, panting to keep up.

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In that castle in the woods the following morning, a heavy air had settled on Hermione and Adam. Since the night when they had sat on the terrace together nearly three weeks ago, their relationship had remained strained. After speaking with Professor McGonagall, Hermione had begun researching Swiss myths and legends, even going as far as the libraries in Paris during the day, becoming frantic that she had seen nothing aside from the vague details that Professor McGonagall had shared with her.

One day—she had a single day to break the curse for Adam. He'd said that the last petal of the rose would fall at midnight tonight, and the enchantment on the castle and all its subjects would be permanent. Hermione lifted her head from her vanity and saw the sun rising outside her window, and she knew she had only about eighteen hours. She tugged at her hair and banged her head against the desk at which she sat. This was useless, completely useless. She needed to clear her mind so that she could think.

Finally, she rose and rinsed her face and pulled back her bushy hair into a braid and wound it around into a knot. Then, pulling on the simple green dress she wore when she first arrived in Molyneux, Hermione grabbed her well-worn copy of Hogwarts, A History and a few apples and placed them in her rucksack. Making sure she had her wand, she left the castle and began walking across the grounds, wandering aimlessly through the woods.

At last, she found a dry, wide stump on which to sit in a clearing large enough that light filtered through the tree's canopy, but she was still mostly surrounded from view by large oaks. She pulled her book out of her bag and began re-reading the chapter on Hogwarts' architecture and magical defenses.

Though she knew the book (and especially this chapter) by heart, Hermione was soon so engrossed in her reading that she didn't notice a near-silent set of footsteps approaching. The hulking male figure stood and stopped when it saw the young woman sitting on the stump, reading. "I've found you, you little witch," the figure breathed, and he inched forward to the edge of the clearing where he still remained in the cover of the shadows. He resisted the urge to run out and attack her—if he was able to catch her completely unaware at her hiding place with a large group, she would definitely stand no chance. He would tie her down to a stake, take away her little magic stick, and burn her until her flesh was no more than ash.

He watched her for several moments, and at last Hermione began scanning the clearing, looking uncomfortable. She replaced her book in her bag, stood up, and began walking toward a massive black shadow far in the distance. Every so often, she would look over her shoulder, making sure she wasn't being followed, so the man stayed just within eyeshot. However, as they approached a large set of iron gates and what looked like a dark, brooding castle, the cover began to thin.

As she turned around behind her one last time to shut and magically lock the gates, she saw a flash of movement and the color red as Gaston hurried toward town to report what he'd seen.

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Meanwhile, at Shell Cottage everyone was cooing over little baby Victoire. The whole Weasley clan, which included Harry by extension, hovered around the new mother and kept talking and asking questions.

"So, it's a girl," Ron said, as his mum passed him the pink-wrapped bundle. He scrunched his nose. "Damn. Thought it'd be fun to have a little nephew to whom I'd teach Quidditch."

Ginny cleared her throat.

"Er… I mean… girls can play Quidditch, too."

"Oh, sod off," replied Ginny, rolling her eyes. "No wonder Hermione isn't dating you if you still make comments like that."

In response, Ron made a very rude gesture.

With the tension thick in the room, it cleared pretty quickly. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley kissed their granddaughter goodbye and Disapparated off the grounds, and George used the Floo Network to return to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, citing that the early afternoon rush would be starting. Charlie was still in Romania, though he was planning to return to the U.K. in the next few weeks to see his niece. Ginny was moody after Ron's comment, so Harry was consoling her, which left Belle and Ron alone with Bill, Fleur, and baby Victoire. Soon though, Fleur's eyes began to drift closed, so Bill cradled the sleeping newborn against his chest to put her down for a nap.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Ron said as Bill left the room. "She's so tiny."

Belle nodded her head, but she said nothing.

Ron grimaced. "You know, I always thought that I would have kids with Hermione. She'd read all sorts of books while she was pregnant, but once they came, we'd still just be trying to figure it out as we went. She'd have been a good mother."

"You love 'er, non?" Belle asked, turning to look at Ron. "I can tell from zee way zat you say 'er name."

"I don't know," he said, pulling at his ginger hair with one of his hands. "I just bloody well miss her and wish I hadn't been such a git and made her run off."

"Oui, zat eez often ze way of things."

"What do you mean?" asked Ron.

Belle sighed. "Well, eet eez just zat we do not know what we 'ave until it eez gone, non? 'Ermione left, and now you weesh she was 'ere. You weesh zat you were weeth 'er."

"I dunno," he said dully. "I guess that's true. But then it doesn't change anything. She's already left. She's gone. She told me she didn't know how she had ever entertained the idea of even dating me before."

"But she eez not gone! You can still travel through zee mirror. Eet eez only when you give up zat it is too late." She continued with another sigh, "Believe me; I know. Zat eez my problem. Zee man zat I care for 'as given up. And weeth zat, I cannot work."

"So… so I should go after her?"

Belle smiled. "Oui."

Ron was silent, mulling over her words, when Bill came back into the room, this time without baby Victoire. "All right, you two," he practically hissed, "let's get you out of here so that you don't wake the new mother."

But even as he said this, Fleur gave a great big, albeit ladylike, snore, cuddling deeper into the blankets. There was quiet for a moment, but then Ron snickered and Belle giggled. A sharp look from Bill silenced them, and they followed him out of the room.

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Golds and oranges and pinks stained the window of the library, and the dust in the air just above Hermione's book glittered as a ray of light hit it. Sunset. Hermione laid her head upon her arms and sighed. Useless, it was just so useless.

"May I join you?" asked a gruff voice.

"Oui," Hermione said, lifting her head. Adam stood next to her (above her, really), looking down. "I'm sorry I've let you down," she said heavily as he sat down in the armchair next to her.

He placed his paw on her arm. "You haven't let me down. You've done nothing but try to save me and my staff from this horrible fate. I just… I just wish that you weren't leaving tomorrow, once the curse becomes permanent."

Hermione smiled sadly. "I'll be back. That mirror allows me to travel here, you know. I could never go forever without seeing you."

"And Lumiere, and Cogsworth, and Mrs. Potts," Adam added dryly. "I know."

"Yes, that's true. But I would miss you the most."

They sat together in silence as the sun continued to sink lower and lower into the sky. Soon the oranges and golds disappeared, leaving only the magenta and dark lavender and navy blue of twilight.

"I would suggest that we go out to the gardens," Adam said after a while, as the candles in the library began flickering to life, "but it's so dark out now."

"Let's go to the West Wing," Hermione said. "If you don't mind, I mean. We can sit on the balcony, and we can watch the rose. Together." And though Adam had long since removed his arm, Hermione placed her hand on his and gave it a faint squeeze.

And as they stood up together, the Beast's heart thudded in his chest. He had to tell her how he felt, curse or no curse. Even if it didn't change anything for him or for his staff. Then, withdrawing from his thoughts, Adam led Hermione to the west wing of the castle.

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"People of Molyneux, thank you for meeting me here tonight. I have important news, and it couldn't wait until morning."

In the dim light of dusk, Gaston made an impressive figure. His biceps seemed to bulge more fully, his face seemed more angled and rugged, and his narrowed eyes held an animal ferocity. Though they had been reluctant to leave their homes at this time of evening, at Gaston's insistence nearly everyone in the village had gathered in the square. Several men had torches, some carried clubs, and others held pitchforks. Though Gaston had been vague about his news, wanting to reveal it impressively to everyone at the same time, he had suggested to a few key allies that there was a danger just outside the city of which they needed to rid themselves… tonight.

Gaston puffed out his chest, and said, "You all remember the witch, who confused us and made us think she was one of us? You remember how she used her witchcraft on crazy old Maurice? You remember how we burned down his cottage to the ground while she was inside so that she would never see the light of day again?"

"Yes, we do! Yes, yes, yes!" the people cried, lifting their torches and pitchforks in a frenzy.

"Well, she's still alive," Gaston added viciously, "and she's living just outside the city in that old abandoned castle in the middle of the woods. She's still within reach, near enough to us to turn us all into frogs or rats!"

A hushed silence fell among the crowd. But then the silence turned into a soft murmur, which turned into a loud buzzing as everyone began to discuss the implications of the news. Before he lost his audience's rapt attention, however, Gaston placed his fingers in his mouth and whistled as he did when calling his hunting dogs. Everyone quieted immediately.

"And so I say, we must protect our village and kill this witch. Who's with me?"

"I am!"

"I am!"

"I am!"

The last bit of the light disappeared from the sky as everyone began pledging his or her allegiance to Gaston. With each cry from someone claiming to support him, Gaston's grin grew wider, wider, wider. Soon, the crowd had worked itself into a feverish mob, and men and women were pushing forward, trying to get closer to Gaston, to tell him their thoughts, and the murmur became an uproar.

"Follow me," Gaston bellowed over the din, as he withdrew his hunting knife and yanked the torch out of Le Fou's hands. "We'll kill this witch yet. And this time, I will personally see to it that she suffers for her crimes."

And without another word or even looking behind him, Gaston swept into the forest, off towards the abandoned castle in the center of the woods.

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As the sun continued to sink lower and lower in the sky, Hermione and Adam gazed at the rose, watching as yet another petal fell. Only three crimson petals clung to the green stem; the rest littered the table, gradually crumbling and dying.

"Hermione, thank you for staying with me tonight," Adam said at long last. "I know my staff is supportive, but I…"

Smiling, Hermione rested her hand on his arm. "It's okay. You don't need to say anything. I'm happy to be here with you."

They stood in silence as the last bit of sunlight faded away, leaving only the faint glow of twilight and that of the enchanted rose. No sooner had the sky darkened outside than one of the three remaining petals began to sway before gently fluttering off the stem. Adam's pulse quickened, and his blood rushed in his ears.

"Hermione," he said, turning so that they were facing each other, "there's something I should tell you—"

At that very moment, the doors to the West Wing burst open, and a frazzled Lumiere and out-of-breath Cogsworth hopped in. "Master," Cogsworth wheezed, "the castle is under attack!"

Adam's face shifted from an open vulnerability to ferocious within seconds. "Who is it? What do they want?" he growled.

"We do not know, sire," said Lumiere, "we only got the briefest of glimpses, but it seemed to be a man—a very large, ferocious dark-haired man—who was leading the mob. The servants are trying to keep them back. Mrs. Potts has already had one of her children become shattered on ballroom floor."

The Beast roared, flexing his claws and ripping a nearby bed hanging. "I'll show them to intrude and harm my servants no less," he spat, now on all fours. "They can't just come in here and hurt my staff."

"But sire—we have no desire for you to get hurt," Cogsworth said quickly. "You are much safer up here."

"Cogsworth, enough talking! We're wasting time. Have you seen me? I am a beast. Of anyone in this castle, I can defend myself." And without another word, he bounded out of the room, leaving Hermione alone with Cogsworth and Lumiere.

"I should go, too," Hermione said, gripping her wand more tightly. "Perhaps my magic can be of some use. If nothing else, I can make the staff larger or heal Mrs. Potts' son." Holding up her skirts, Hermione dashed from the West Wing, down the hall, and towards the ballroom.

When she reached the room, the doors were open, and biting her lip, Hermione immediately began scanning the area, trying to determine the best way to help the servants push out the intruders. She began casting Engorgement Charms and Stunning Spells—making the servants larger, incapacitating the townspeople. Then a high-pitched squealing filled the room. Hermione turned her head to see Babette on fire, her feathers fluttering.

"Aguamenti!" she shouted, and a sharp jet of water flew out of her wand. It hit Babette at full force, knocking her down, but extinguishing the flames.

As Hermione rushed across the room past her, she thought she heard a dramatic "Mon dieu!" before Babette appeared to faint, but she had no time to revive the feather duster. On the far end of the ballroom, where she was headed, Chip was looking very vulnerable fighting against a short, stocky man with a bulbous nose.

"Take that!" the man shouted as he grabbed Chip and held him in the air, preparing to throw him to the ground, but Hermione simply cast a nonverbal Stunning Spell in his direction.

"Accio Chip!" she murmured, and Chip flew into her hand unharmed as the man slumped to the floor.

"Wow, thanks! I thought he was going to smash me into the ground."

Hermione grimaced in response.

She carried Chip out of the ballroom where the battle was still raging and walked across the castle to the room in the East Wing where she had been staying. She cast some protective charms, most of the them nonverbally, and was about to close the door and lock it magically, when she heard a muffled thunk. Glancing around her, she entered the bedchamber again and locked the doors magically. She saw a person kneeling on the ground, brushing off dust as they moved to stand. Her eyes widened as the light shifted and she saw a shock of ginger hair.

"Ron?" she whispered. "Is that really you?"