As always, enjoy.

A/N down below.

Note: For some strange reason, I could not word chapter four the way that I wanted to. So, I had to add some to this chapter as to allow me to do what I pleased in the next chapter, which should come some time between 6/1 and 6/2, followed by another update on 6/5.

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Beauty is Beast

Chapter Three

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~*.*~

Misguidance lies in the clouded abyss

A song that played tunelessly until now

Softened by the coming day

But not born to be found,

A shadow awaits

~*.*~

London, England

Tuesday July 3, 1742

The morning of July Third came unbearably fast. The first of July had been marked on the calendar and forced into the public eye by the news boy whom was patronized by the audience of London of the banality of their announcement. Adoptions only happened several times a year, five to be exact, yet the public saw it as a nuisance that they would rather much get rid of altogether. Not in the highest of spirts, the orphans adjourned to the Dining Hall where they sat to eat their breakfast and talk amongst themselves until their lessons at nine o'clock.

Hermione had been formally accepted back into the good graces of her peers. After her failure to tell anyone where she had gone, she had been welcomed back with opened arms. It was as if they had truly missed her and were dreadfully apologetic for what had transpired. Even Darren, the boy behind the awful trick, had apologized profusely for ruining her favorite tome. All was forgiven, though not forgotten. The day would forever remain tainted, even when the years escaped her and she forgotten why she was so angry.

After the welcome, she sat down and helped herself to an array of porridge and fruit. It was freshness among the coming hectic schedule. Since adoptions were taking place, etiquette classes were pushed further back into the day and would be rehearsed in the first floor Drawing Room and not the second.

"Who does she wish for us to go there?" she asked, tilting her head in the manner that did not feign her confusion.

Elizabeth, though young and receptive, could not provide an answer.

"You shall see." She smiled, before going back to her porridge.

"Oh, I cannot stand the suspension!" cried Elizabeth, wholeheartedly frightened.

It has been no an hour since they were released from breakfast and they we presently standing in the Drawing Room in which their Mistress told them to meet her.

Hermione turned an assessed her friend, finding her sudden inability to conceal and control her fright rather strange. Although, she was also nervous about the day's becoming celebrations.

The girl's stood with their backs drawn to the wall. The classroom in which they stood was filled with memorabilia, residual reminders of the previous residence and their atrocious taste in furniture and boring display of flattery. Unlike the others we have been addressed by their teachers, they stood watch with twenty other girls of various ages as they waited patiently for their Mistress to arrive and begin their lessons in the art of walking. Hermione could not hardly contain her increasingly troublesome excitement. She exceeded in everything, but nothing more than the art of walking with one's head held up and shoulders held back. Painful to the sound, it taught young girls to walk properly whilst aligning their backs to perfect straightness.

"Sush," Hermione murmured sternly. "It is not like we are in trouble."

"Says you," a girl on her left said. "You are never in trouble. You were even given leniency for running away!"

"I did not run away," hissed the curly-haired girl. "Besides, if I remember correctly, you were a part of the group fawning over my absence."

"I did not fawn!"

"It is alright to admit that you were worried, Aurora. I will not think any less of you if you did."

In that moment, the tall girl with red hair brought Hermione into a deep hug. Indeed, she was terrified. They all were. It did not take a genius to figure that one out. Although, there were still many who loathed her presence because of the difference between them, some like Elizabeth and Aurora were profoundly keen on expressing their relief once she had been found.

After speaking to Ms. Cole for quite some time, they left her sanctuary and sealed the room up. With the promise of never taking away one of the few things that made her happy, her Mistress allowed her to continue to use the room on one condition- that she never pull such an act on the Orphanage again. She had been scared beyond her years, and It was a promise that she was all too willing to keep.

Once the promise had been made, an audience of all the residence of the orphanage was put into place. Hermione was escorted to the drawing room on the first floor, the students in her year had been brought there prior to her arrival, and Ms. Cole addressed them. Darren and everyone else got a stern talking to. Hermione was pleased to know that they knew what they did wrong and needn't have to worry about a repeat of the incident. With that solely in place, she was finally able to let of not only the incident that occurred that day, but some of the more truly unpleasant ones that the orphans had conspired together.

Three days have passed, and now it was a long forgotten memory. It remained the topic amongst the younger orphans because they did not understand exactly the consequences, nor did they wish to see it happen again. They were frightened, a normal reaction to anything that all could relate to. Hermione did not mean to cause such a negative outcome, so she felt terribly apologetic for their repeated questions and woes. Ms. Cole advised her that it was not entirely her fault and she should no worry any further. Another promise between them was made, thus bringing them back to the present time.

Aurora released her from her embrace and stared at her through a thin layer of tears. "I beg you, never do that again!"

"I will not," she sighed, her voice weakened by her peer's emotional turmoil.

"Promise us!" begged Elizabeth. She was the only person that knew about the promises she has made with Ms. Cole.

Hermione giggled. "Oh, alright. I promise you both to never desert you."

"You better," Aurora mumbled into the crook of her neck. "I would not forgive you again if you did."

She rubbed the girl's back, soothingly. The curly-haired girl knew very well that the girl in her arm could hold some atrocious grudged. She still has not forgiven Darren for what he did to her. He was such an awful little boy. She could not understand why anyone would want to adopt him, not that she was any better. Little interest came to her, and there was always something that ruined her chanced of finding a family. Her magic was the bane of her existence and if there was a way to get rid of it, she would. A very small part of her wished that. The rest of her had grown to accept the difference in herself and the gift as her Mistress sometimes calls it.

"Oh, Aurora. Please cease your disgraceful ceremony." A girl with long braids hissed on the other end of the line. Her hazel eyes drifted over to them. As expressive as they were, she too had been worried. "Ms. Cole shall be coming soon and we should not be talking. Do you want to get into trouble twice in one day?"

Aurora blushed, glaring daggers at her. "Why, I never!"

"Silence!"

"How dare you!"

"I would not have to dare if you knew how to keep your mouth shut!"

Aurora snarled at her. "Why you…"

As soon as the word was uttered, the door to their classroom opened and in stepped their Mistress. The girls immediately retreated back into formation. Aurora glared emotionlessly at the girl who disrespected her as Hermione tried desperately to calm her down. With a shove into her arm, she huffed and forced her expression into Ms. Cole regarded them each coolly, passing before them and scrutinizing their dresses, assessing their posture and pose. Her green eyes bore into them as she slowed her pace, stopping in the exact middle of the line of girls before her. Turning so she faced them, she gave them a rare smile.

"Good Morning, girls."

"Good morning, Ms. Cole."

"I trust you all slept pleasantly last night?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow.

They nodded in unison. "Yes, ma'am."

With a smile, she said," Excellent," before drawing back to her usual emotionless tone and demeanor. "Now, we can begin."

Ms. Cole strolled before them, instructing on their day's schedule. As always, lessons begin with the correct formation, the proper greeting quickly followed by displaying a graceful curtsey that left their knees shaky and their back aching. Soon after that was accomplished, their real lessons began.

As soon as they were able to perform the basic of what she had shown them at their earliest convenient ages, she set to teach them individually.

"Oh, these blasted exercises!" hissed one of the girls as she struggled to keep the book upon her head from falling. As she took her next step, her biggest fear had come true and she had to start right back over again. With a disgruntled sigh, Olivia grabbed the book from the floor and stomped over to the other side of the room and proceeded to practice her entrance into the room.

Someone giggled behind her hand. "Poor, Olivia. Can't even stand on her own two feet, much less walk in them."

"Do you want to try in my stead?" hissed the girl with straight blonde hair. With an amused shake of her head, the girl huffed again and murmured," Good. Now, go back to your own business and leave me alone."

"But your struggle is my business, dear girl!"

"I behoove you to find another and stop this nonsense!" she shrieked, once again causing her book to fall from her head.

The girl whom she was arguing with giggled even harder. "I do believe that it is not you inability to walk properly, but your ability to keep your temper in check. I would watch it if I were you, Olivia. Boys do not find feistiness a valuable trait and would no doubt look down upon you if such a trait should be known."

"Like I need a boy telling me what to do."

"Yes, I do find that something hard for even you to adhere to. Pray tell me, how are you to be married if you cannot even walk properly and your temper is detestable?"

"Who says I want to marry, hmm?" asked Olivia, finding balance despite the girl's continuous attempt to sway her. "I do not find pleasure in being a Lady of some manor. I want to explore the free world and not be locked away from it."

"Ohh, adventurous!"

"The scandal!"

Olivia glared at the girl before jutting her chin upward and walking as fast as her feet would allow. The girl giggled and went back to her own business, which was sewing. As Hermione replayed the exchange before them, she could not help what these lessons were for, really. It was not like she did not enjoy them; she just did not understand the point behind torturing themselves into walking and sitting properly to knowing how to sew. Perhaps, since they were young women, that their destiny was not their own, as it was with all.

Hermione wanted more, that she knew. The walls of the Orphanage could hold them for so long before they found a way to break free. Sometime she would dream about what the future held and that if the lessons she did today mattered at all for the purposes of tomorrow. Just to appease the greater good, she liked to believe that they did, that she was not, along with the other girls, was not wasting her precious time. She could die tomorrow and show nothing but embroidery for it. There had to be more to this lifetime that she could see; she was determined to find out what that was.

Sometime during the lessons, someone let the topic that had been among the adults for weeks slip. Apparently, the Lord that owned the Orphanage was due to visit. The rumors, as they were, had been terribly exaggerated. Hermione was sure because there was no way a man that hailed from such a high status could be so cruel and willing to put so many out of work and children onto the streets. Hermione could hardly believe the scandalous whispers of the girls in her class!

By this time, Ms. Cole had come to all the girls and was about to make her rounds once more when a knock came to the door and a gruff voice bellowed from the exposed enclosure beneath it.

"Madam Cole," Mister Filch's voice rang from behind the door.

"Yes, come in." she said, annoyed. Everyone must interrupt her lessons; it has become a favorite amongst the adults and workers to find her presence when she was with her girls. "Due make it quick, Mister Filch. The girls are having a hard time concentrating as it is." She flashed them a cunning grin before departing to the door.

Mister Filch nodded at them and as soon as the doors closed, the girls went into hysteric banter.

"This lesson is absolutely atrocious!"

"I will not be able to feel my feet for days!" another coincided with grief. "Dear Hermione, what troubles you?" The same girl asked, forgetting about her poor feet for a moment to address her friend. "Are you ill?"

She shook her head. If it was not for their bickering and disgusting adverse emotion to their lessons, they would be able to hear the conversation that was being held jus outside the door.

"It is our Mistress. She appears distressed."

"Why would you say that?"

Hermione scrunched up her face, shaking her head. "I do not know. She seems upset. Hush! I cannot hear them and I must know what they speak of."

The girls ceased their movements and talk as to allow silence to prevail. As it did, they leaned toward the door, the words of their Mistress and Master coming through the thin door. They were arguing, as always. But, this argument was not like the others. Their voices were shaking, pleading, and terribly distraught; none of the girls knew not of what to make of it their distress. The words were muffled, almost to the point that not a single word could be deciphered. Fortunately, they had an ace in their ranks. Hermione was generously gifted with excellent hearing. However, even she could not come to a conclusion as to what was causing the alarm.

"Maybe they are discussing adoptions." said Olivia. "I mean, our little abode has been in the papers as of late."

"Though, not of good news, I am afraid."

Biting her lip, Olivia continued to process what they were able to hear. With a sudden thought, she turned to the only one who would have managed to learn from their cause. "Hermione, you know what they said. Their whispers have only been known to reach your ears. Pray tell us, what were they arguing about this time?"

Hermione shook her head. "I do not know. Something about a visit from their Lord, but I do not recall."

"The Lord!?" An abrupt wind swept over them, causing the girls to scramble around.

"Did you just say the Lord is coming?"

The curly-haired girl nodded. "Yes," she told them calmly. "May I ask what as you all so frantic with worry?"

Sincerely, she did not know why her insight had caused such an alarm among them. The girls stopped their antics, turned and stared at her. Hermione frown, unintentionally. All continued to stare at the naiveté of their precious friend.

"Do not tell me you have never seen the Lord." accused Aurora, grimacing unflatteringly.

"I cannot say I have. Why do you ask?"

"Hermione!" exclaimed the girl," how can you not know who our Lord is?"

She shrugged, defeated. "Enlighten me."

Shaking her head, displaying the same unnatural gawk like her fellow peers, Aurora went into explanation. "I cannot believe you do not know of our Lord. You of all people should know of him…"

"Well, I do not. So, tell me."

Hermione has never met the man, nor seen him. The eleven, going on twelve years did not allow her to do so. His presence was legendarily rare. Even some of the adult has never seen him. The only thing they had to go by was the portrait in the drawing room on the second floor. Unfortunately, they were not allowed in that room, for it was forbidden.

Aurora's jaw tightened, hiding the true anger behind her relaxed expression. "Our Lord reigns over all of the United Kingdom, Hermione. He is a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. He is of one of the highest standings and we are fortunate enough to be blessed with his generous hand."

"He donates to the Orphanage?"

She nodded, before adding. "He owns the Orphanage." Then, she paused, thoughtfully. "I believe his wife, our Lady, requested that he donate to the Orphanage. Sometime during her travels in her early years grew fond of London and wanted to give back to the underprivileged."

"If they are our reigning rulers, why have I not seen, or heard of them."

"It is not my fault. Perhaps you fell asleep during the History Lesson." she quipped playfully.

"Is donating the only thing he has done for his people?" she continued, wishing to know more about their Lord.

They all nodded, enthusiastic about the topic now that their Mistress was not present. "Of course!"

"He is our finest Lord!"

"Though," one girl added," he is greatly feared."

"He has been for years, now."

"He has not gained my fancy, then." mumbled Hermione. "A ruler that has lost favor has no reason to reign."

"Hermione, you know not what you say!" one girl exclaimed, worried. "He is not a terrible man."

"If he is not a terrible man, why has he been so generous towards the Orphanage and to nothing more?" she quipped, curious to their response. She would very much like to know more about the man behind the name.

"Lord Lucius Malfoy is not a terrible man!" cried Aurora, tearing at the corners of her eyes. "Never have I heard such nonsense, such deplorable accusations. You should be ashamed of yourself, Hermione!"

"Enough of our Lord, Aurora." Sighed Olivia, defeated. "No one cares of the man, anyway. Not of his history of misfortune these last several years. He has been gaining favor, though." Aurora said, unflatteringly. "It is his young son that we should turn our focus to!"

"Oh, yes!" the girls said in synchronization.

"Yes, the young heir knows not of how many heart he has stolen!"

Olivia giggled, nudging Hermione in the shoulder. "You have never met the young Prince, 'Mione. You know not of his bearing. His presence alone is known to make girls faint upon meeting him. He stands with such rule; no doubt he will make a great ruler in the foreseeable future."

"You think so?"

"I know so." claimed the girl.

Evidently, with their lessons thrown to the wind, the topic of choice had grown positive reception with the girls in the classroom. Scorned by the abrupt passing, they collected themselves into one corner to address it as one adjourned civility.

Hermione had a lot to learn about the things outside her cozy little abode. Things that she wished that did not exist, and things that would bear her everlasting scars once she came to face the terrible reality of her newly found world.

Ms. Cole came back some time later to relieve them of their lesson. Although nothing was accomplished due to the girl's distraction, as they were prone to do from time to time, Hermione felt it in her best interest to brush up on some of London's most recent history. With the last of their lessons finished, the girls took it upon themselves to venture to the gardens for some much needed sunlight.

Hermione sat down, caring not of how her skirts were laid. Thankfully, no one was around to see the little act. All the other girls seemed not to care, so why on earth should she? As the sun beamed down on them and the world slowly opened up to them, her thoughts pulled away from her.

For someone to abundantly known, there was very little to go by information wise. The mere fact of not knowing who the Lord and Lady were was killing Hermione on the inside. She could not think of a better way of getting to know them than reading the old texts of her books. Elizabeth had other ideas, however.

"I do not know what good would come of it," Elizabeth said, seizing the moment to tease her about her intricacies to knowledge. "Alas, it saddens me to know that you finally do not know something, I do not see the point of wasting your time with this research."

"You would be saying that, too, if you did not know anything about the Lord's heir."

Elizabeth blushed. "Oh!"

Hermione smiled. "Think of it as a due. I do owe it to myself to at least try to gather as much as I can. The Lord and Lady are due to visit at some point, and I want to be ready when that time arrives."

"Why even bother, Minny?" frowned the girl. "Ignore the others, and do what your heart tells you. More like, what your mind insists." Elizabeth giggled.

"As I do always," she admitted with a blush.

"See, what did I tell you?"

Hermione sent her a fleeting glare before a smile formed on her lips. "Oh, I suppose you are right. For once…"

Elizabeth's expression changed from humored raillery to shock in less than a second. With a huff, she turned and uprooted the nearest floor and flung it over her shoulder.

Her friend bit her lip before nodding. "Alright, then. Go off to see what you can come up with. But, do not come to my crying because you could produce anything. Begging me will not work this time."

The curly-haired girl beamed brilliantly at her friend. To have one's support was beyond exquisite!

It was in that moment that Olivia decided to grace them with her presence.

With an unladylike sneer, she came up to them and said," Do not see why you would even bother. The Lord and Lady are distinguished, but their historical value is very little."

"Oh, leave her alone Olivia!" Elizabeth's hatred for the girl was profound, as her hatred for her was, as well. "If she wants to read to her heart's content, let her. There is no point in making a mockery of her talent."

"Who said I was making a mockery?" The girl sounded utterly confused, scared even. "Listen, I know you mean well, Hermione, but this must stop. It is not your fault you do not know a thing about the Lord and Lady. Lord forbid we actually retain something Mr. Filch teaches us in Ms. Cole's absence, but that is beside the point. What I am trying to say is that, you should tread carefully. Something are meant to stay hidden."

Hermione bit her lip as her eyes scanned the pages of the old text. As soon as the last lesson of the day was finished, she ran all the way back to her chambers, rummaged through her belongings, and produced her old History book. She was researching anything that would shine light to this 'Lord' guy that the other girls had insisted on reading. Brushing her fingertip carefully against the dark ink of the words, she began to mumble the only passage that she was able to come across during her extensive hour of research.

Lord and Lady Malfoy are the most prestigious idols of the eighteenth century. Hailing from two extraordinary families, the ruling couple of England met as children, which blossomed into a long resounding friendship and courtship. Throughout their younger years, the Lord and Lady grew closer, married at the tender age of sixteen and twenty, before giving birth to their first and only child. Soon after their heir's birth, their rule was tied, and their fortunate was blessed.

Regarded dearly by the people of England, they are the oldest family and have been known to exert exuberance in their earlier years until an almost fatal crime befell them. Over the years, they have proven themselves as the rightful monarchs of England. Alongside twenty-seven other ruling families, they are known to be the most ruthless of all. Many critics find no value in their rule; thus, bringing strain to fall between the Sacred Family of this time. Lord and Lady have countless enemies, but it is their actions before now that has given reign to their achievements today, no matter how disastrously unbecoming the accusations against them are.

Hermione's eyes flickered from the text to the single picture of their Lord and was not enough information to go by, but she trusted the text in her book was correct. Though, she hardly knew these two individuals, or of their worth, she felt that she ought to at least try to learn more about them. No matter how minuscule the information came.

Lucius Malfoy was a hard idol to learn about, indeed. His admission did not come across frequently at all through the numerous volumes of text that she had circled about her. She gathered up all that she could, huffing as she closed the last book when something caught her eye. Inside was an artistic endurance of the Lord and Lady Malfoy. Both posed by each other's side, their eyes drawn to focus on one another's. As she looked, she could have sworn the picture moved.

Biting back a shriek, she threw the book and scooting away from her circled refuge, her heart hammering away inside her chest.

What in the Lord's glorious name did she see?

Shaking, she stood from her spot and slowly walked over to where she had thrown the book. With tentative hands, she bent down and picked it up, miraculously finding that the page had somehow been saved. Stealing herself, Hermione flipped it over, removed her fingers from the page and stared at the picture of the Lord and Lady. They did not move. Not even an inch. Instead, their portrait looked back at each other, as it had done moments before the strange occurrence.

With a sigh, Hermione closed the book and placed it upon her desk.

There was no much that she has yet to learn, and she knew the girl's would be furious if she did not come back to them with something in relation to their Lord and Lady. It was bizarre that she did not know a single thing about them. Were their accusations true? Had she fallen asleep during their lesson? She figured that she did because she remembered not a single word of it.

Usually, she was more enthusiastic about learning. Unfortunately, something had taken that little heaven away from her. Lacing her fingers through her curly hair, she pondered the best route to take from here.

She could not go back to the girls. It was late, and supper was not due to be served for another two hours. The children were forbidden to be running around the halls and sneaking into rooms without permission. With that in place, it let Hermione's mind wonder for a while. When she did, she inclined her head to the right and listened.

In the distance, she could hear the faint whisper of her Mistress as she hurried over to her chamber doors and pressed her ear against the cold surface.

Biting her lip once again in hesitation, she made up her mind and followed the voices. But, as she reached the doors, her instinct told her not to proceed. Her hand fell from the handle, leaving her rethink her situation.

Her mind very much liked to play tricks on her, and it was up to Hermione to figure when to listen to the voices that sounded inside her head.

Night came fast, but the turmoil of her mind did not cease.

A/N: I hope the change in the year wasn't all too displeasing; I could not relate factual events with what would coincide with the plot. Forgive me. I am not familiar with the 1500's, anyway. However, I will do my best to align the plot of this story with the documentary it is based off just to give it some validation.

Next 2-3 chapters will be relatively long. You will meet Lucius Malfoy in the next chapter. Madame Maxime will make another appearance. We are closing in on the first part. Please enjoy the ride!