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Beauty is Beast

Chapter Ten

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Rain fell from the angry clouds. Thunder streaked across the sky in cynical brushes. As they fought against the raging storm, Lady Malfoy's heart fell through her clavicle and straight into her stomach. She could hardly register anything but the icy pelts of rain as it struck her skin and cascaded down her face. The prickling sensation was almost lost to her. By the time they reached the back doors of the orphanage, the entire building was casted in a dark shadow. They ran across the fields, past the single horse drawn carriage and through the small garden. Their clothes were drenched with water, their hearts racing as they tried to catch their breaths. Maxime was the worst off. Ms. Cole and Lady Malfoy were no better. The rain seemed to have washed away her glamour. It had been too restraining, and as the day dwindled to nothing but a thin line and night fell, she was truly concern by what the rested day has brought them. They were listening for any signs out of the ordinary. When a scream issued from one of the levels, they burst through the doors and into the kitchens, the boy leading them as they ran through the halls and clamored up the stairs.

None of them wanted to speak in fear that what they said would bring upon the wrong decree. Instead, they sat there. Hearts hammering, adrenaline filling their veins. It was the worst sort of excitement they have ever felt. And the worst sort of dread they could have ever imagined. Whilst water cascade down their sore bodies, they arrived at the scene of all the disorder.

"Mistress!" a small voice called out.

Ms. Cole turned to find a young girl waving at her, a worried expression upon her youthful face.

"What is it, my dear?" she asked urgently. "Who is inside this room?" Forgetting all logic, she asked a question that she already knew that answer to. She could blame it on pure horror.

"It is Hermione, Mistress!" she began to cry. "Some strange boy was walking around earlier and must have come in to harm her."

"I doubt that he had any intentions to harm her, Millie." The older woman told her. Maxime gave her an odd look. "The boy seemed perfectly normal to me. Now tell me, what has happened?"

"We watched him for a while," the little girl admitted bashfully and with a blush. "We wanted to know what he was doing here and if he was going to harm us."

Millie began to tell her all she knew about the incident. Though, she believed that the boy thought they were alone and entombed in the Drawing Room, some of the children had come back and watched them as they talked. There had been blinding lights of gossamer, and a strange little sound that tickled their ears whenever they tried to get closer. All in all, it was a very strange interaction. Their introduction was appropriately suitable until their conversation turned dark. Hermione changed and so did the boy.

"What did he change into?" asked the Mistress. "Millie, you must tell me."

"I-I do not know."

"Millie."

"A m-monster," she murmured in a frightened voice and that was all she would say about the matter.

A sobbed tore from the little girl. She found herself being embraced by the elder woman. As she cried, Ms. Cole cooed soothing words into her ear,

Ms. Cole grew quite frustrated. As she straightened herself up, she turned to Narcissa and gave her an accusing glare.

"Your son has harmed one of my own." She told her gravely. "What is your son? I demand you tell me."

Narcissa came forward, swallowing hard. Fear was predominating in her eyes. She had not been expecting none of this to happen.

"He is cursed," she recited slowly. "His Beast has risen."

It was pure instinct.

She was very much like a falling angel. Casted down from Heaven, she was falling to Hell with incredible speed. The only thing that saved her from it was his outstretched arms. Seeing her fall like that her doom was unbearable. He opened his arms and he caught her, demanding that the madness inside him remain calm.

He had not hurt her.

Something else had.

Draco brushed a stray strand of hair from her face and watched her as she recovered from her tragic nightmare. He was reminded fearfully of her episode. She looked so peaceful, so elegant that he did not dare disturb her. Although she was not fully awake, he felt that the simple fact that she was responding and breathing normally again was a sure sign that everything was going to be alright. He let the fear of losing her leave and be replaced with something more profoundly accepting that he hardly noticed the charging fleets of Fae as their shouts across the room.

Without breaking his gaze, he sent the creatures flying, their bodies spiraling in midair. The zone creaked with renewed life, ready to be tore even further apart. Draco was ready for them. Their demise would not mean a thing to him, so long as they did not harm her.

They sat in the middle of their own war-inspired ruin.

He listened, and to some relief the Fae trickled out of sight. Though, they would remain close, he grew certain that they would not attempt anything else. And, they did not.

It was like listening to the end of a horrible storm. The crackling of wood as it fell from the frames of the furniture, the crunch of glass as it moved anonymously across the wounded floor. As they sat in the offered silence, objects continued to move on their own accord, still connected to the travesties that had once gave them life. The fact that the room could sustain such a monstrous exploration was astounding. No achievement before has ever made such a bold statement. She had episodes in the room before, and someone came to clean up her mess. It was more than a sanctuary for the literary elite; it was her haven and home.

His heart thrummed.

That was a thought that he could not bear. The girl had no home, no protection. His Beast growled in utter disgust. His father was just a signature away from destroying the only place that she has been able to call home. Not without a fight, however. If she could not keep this place, then he would have to take her with him.

Draco looked down at her, shifting his gaze from one element of her face to another. She moved slightly in her sleep but remained unresponsive after that. An interaction such as this one is said to only come once in a thousand years, and he was surely stunned that he could encounter such a driven spirit.

Everything was thrown in chaos.

His hand came up to smooth contour of her cheek, which took his breath away the instant his rough skin met with hers. He let out a shaky breath as his hand moved downward, to her neck and over her clavicle. There, he felt her heartbeat. His beast wanted to scrap his teeth against her chest just to know that there was life in this dangerous vessel. That the life within was his to claim. It was immoral to think such a thought. Its sharp creation was wholly undeterred. He stopped a felt the beating of her heart, letting out a satisfied growl at the feeling.

He did not give a damn of the hell that he provoked. His hands trembled as the noise began to stir the girl in his arm in all the wrong ways. She was fighting something again. This time, he could help her. Bringing his arms around her shoulders, Draco moved in so that he cradled her protectively in his embrace.

No one was going to get to her.

First, it was a hoard of children who discovered them. Their startled gasps and cries were drowned by the fact that he had not much patience to care what they thought or what they were saying. As he stood, cradling the girl in his arms, he felt their tiny bodies shiver beneath his mighty presence. He dared not turn lest he frighten them even more. Instead, he picked up his beauty and walked them to a nearby, unbroken chair and sat down and waited. Drawing his arm up, he studied the girl's face in earnest. He did not want to forget a single detail. The beast inside him would not allowed it, anyway.

"Go fetch your Mistress," he told them calmly. "It seems that this child has gotten herself into more trouble than it is worth. I must speak to her at once. Now, go."

One by one, he heard them leave the room. Only one dared to stand there and wait until he acknowledged her presence.

"What is it, girl?"

Draco turned to find a small blonde-haired girl standing just inside the frame of the room. Her hands were drawn to her sides, her eyes round with worry. Evidently, she wanted to ask about her friend. It was clear that the two of them were close.

"If it is her that you are worried about, then do not be." He told her softly. Again, his hand went to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "She is fine. Your worry is but a manifestation of-"

"Did you harm her?" she asked suddenly, having taken a step inside the room. She was still far away, but at least she had the nerve to approach him unlike her friends. "Why is she so white?"

"She is not well." He bit out stubbornly. "I may have aroused something I ought to have left alone."

"You mean her magic."

Draco's eyes shot open and flashed a mean glow of amber. "What?"

The little girl swallowed and said," She has magic."

"Who told you this?" he hissed lowly, knowing that a girl like her should not know what the word meant. "Did you overhear one of-"

She shook her head. "No. I did not." slowly, she approached them and looked down at Hermione with fondness. "She is my friend. She is special."

"And what precisely is your definition of special, girl?" he was caught in a web of wanting to dispose of her and wring out the truth from every bone in her body. "Tell me."

The girl smiled. "Special, you know, different." She giggled. "She is just her!"

She could mean anything by her words. Her aloofness was astounding.

"I do not know what it is, really." She continued to tell him. "All I know is that it is nothing to be afraid of. It is a part of her. Like what you have is a part of you."

"And, what is it that is a part of me?"

"Your eyes. They say it all."

The girl then turned around without a word and slowly, as if having no clue that she had been in the middle of a conversation with him, began retreating to the entry of the room. There, she turned and let out a horrified scream. If he had not been paying close attention to her, the alert that she sounded would have come as a complete surprise. Just as quick as she had come to him, she betrayed him.

Seconds later he was met with silence.

Then the door burst open again, and he prepared to leave. He listened carefully to the conversation emanating from just down the hall.

He felt them arrive blazingly. Their shouts, and their discursive threats heavy as he looked to find a trove of visitors awaiting him. In that moment, the door burst open again, and his mother stepped in through the threshold and into the insanity that was his mind and heart. Her disheveled state was quite unearthly. Her hair was thrown by the wind and displaced, as were her petticoat and skirts. The only remanence of coordination came from her frantically looking around the room, her eyes locking onto his form. He had never seen her in such dismiss, and looking at her now caused his heart to pound even louder inside his chest. He felt two heartbeats now.

They had found him in the end of a long-fought battle. The only remnants of the episode laid in the destruction of the room. He heard one of them gasp and let out a startled cry. Books lay deserted in all corners of the room; the glass had been shattered and furniture rearranged and broken. The only thing that had been saved from such force was himself and the girl, whom he had taken and shielded. The Fae had been too terrified to stay and vanished. They were truly alone and unaccustomed to their gawks of enquiry.

He turned and came face to face with his father.

Lucius was a despicable man. Everything he has ever touched either turned to ash, or was set alight with hatred. He was the very reason behind his curse. Every fibre of his wretched being despised him. The two of them stared at one another until voice sounded behind him. They were met fruitfully by the Mistress' agitation, and his wife fatal cries.

"Oh, dearest Draco!" she exclaimed heartedly. "What has become of you?" she asked in a defeated voice as she took in the room.

The wreckage wreaked havoc on her fragile heart. Her eyes grew wide in astonishment, eyes shining with glorious dismay. He watched as the revulsion that laid embedded like a sweet breeze rose to the surface and mar her perfect complexion. Her features grew grim, her eyes wide. She saw the streaks of gold intertwine with opaquely driven blue of his eyes. His hidden secret had risen, and there was nothing that she could have done to stop it.

As her eyes became acquainted with the destruction, Ms. Cole filtered into the room, taking the devastation just as fiercely as her Lady.

"Draco," she cried then. "What has come of you?"

"Nothing has come of me, mother." Draco said just as she looked to see who was in his arms.

"W-what have you done?" she asked in dismay. "All this wreckage! And, the girl. What have you done to the girl?" She stepped forward and as she did, he let out a low growl that came forth from deep within his chest. With a gasp, she stepped back and stood her ground.

The action tore through the haze, allowing him to answer. "Do not come near her!"

"C-come near?" His mother tore her gaze from him and looked at the decapitated girl in his arms. "Did you do this to her?" When he did not answer, her voice became louder and sharper. "Answer me, Draco. What have you done to her?"

"Not I," he offered, standing now. His balance was kept as he swept the sleeping girl into his arms and stood there, gazing upon her beauty as if any second it could be lost. Draco looked down at her face, her curly hair, the unbroken promise between him and the spirit that had possessed her.

Oh, yes. He has chosen her.

"I have claimed her."

He moved toward the entrance, throwing his mother a sorrowful glance. If she only knew. "Make the preparations. I am taking her to heal and I am not leaving her unless she is my ward."

"Your ward?" question his mother, outraged by such a declaration. "Stop this instant, Draco! I will not tolerate such a-"

The word caught in his throat and by the time she opened her eyes from blinking, her son was standing a foot from her, eyes blazing, a snarl etched upon his face.

"A what?" he asked then, darkly. "Finish your sentence, mother. I dare you."

Draco turned, knowing full well in the back of his mind that his mother was worried. As he was. The curse in which had been given to him unjustly was slowly settling in. Though, it would be years before the premonition of his unfortunate end would take root, he still had time to rectify the wrong that his parents had done. No child should have to suffer at the hands of some unknown assailant, so why should he turn a blind eye to the girl?

"I will do as I wish, Mother." he said through gritted teeth. His Beast was fighting to rise.

A grave coldness came over them. Lord Lucius had entered the room, having placed a hand upon his son's shoulder to calm him down. It was a trivial statement, one that he hoped would take. It did not, however it did provide some much need assurance for the boy with the unsustainable compulsion. In that instant, his Beast retreated into its lair and the boy felt at peace once more.

"Father," he said warily, coming back rather quickly whilst looking up. He looked about the room in remembrance to what happened. As the pieces fell together, he looked down at the girl in his arms, feeling a pang of guilt. Had he been the one to harm her? Something told him no despite having very limited bursts where he could not recall what transpired.

"You know not what you are doing."

"Then, you do?" he asked in the same resentful way as his father had spoken. "I know what you think of me, father. I am a beast, a monster. The only reliable source of any redemption has been found through the loss of keeping me away from others, being casted and locked away. I only hope that you can see why I must do this."

"Why you should take this girl from the only home she has ever known?" he hissed venomously. "What you are doing is unethical."

"Unethical." He tried the word as if it were a savory dish. Draco stopped walked, and turned. His eyes were glowing. "What is unethical is what you have been doing to this orphanage, father. Have you no heart? Have you no soul? As power-hungry as you are, surely one little building could be spared."

"You know not what you are doing!"

"I know more than you will ever know, father." The boy spat and walked away.

Lord Malfoy came up to him with the gravest of expressions. "My son. What has come of you?"

He was very much aware of the fleeting touch of his hands as his Beast tethered on the brink of rising. The enchantments that kept it cages was being placed under so much strain that he feared that the bars would break and they would all pay witness to the true nature of his unfortunate gift. Lord Malfoy would soon die then have his son suffer another decapitating episode; he could not bear to see him in a wrong mind and endearing so much pain.

Draco began to writhe in pain, and looked imploringly up at his father.

"Make it stop," he begged.

"I wish I could, my son." He swallowed thickly. His words were minced with sorrow.

He knew somewhere deep and dank a flower had lost its petal. And, there was nothing he could have done to stop it.

In a dark, far away throne room where no light penetrated its rough curtains sat an expensive glass encasement. Inside, a single rose in full bloom, dressed in red and suspended in time, fluttered at slightest of touched. The thick, heavy cage was meant to protect the fragile blossom, but nothing could prevent the ruin of age from tearing one precious petal from its body and tossing it to make a blanket of decay. For many years, month by month, the flower has lost one petal through arrogance, reminding the owner that life was not fair and one ought to be ashamed by thinking that even someone as willowed as a wanderer was not deserving of kind treatment.

The rose that had been preserved with thousands of enchantments, drawn to countless rituals and requests, was dying. There was nothing on earth that could do a damn thing about it. As it died, the spirit attached to it was slowly drawing the life out of another.

Deception was a cruel thing, some would come to learn.

Lord Lucius looked at his son with sympathy as he thrashed about. A silent Wingardium Leviosa was casted on the unconscious girl. He needed to get her as far away from his as possible. If she was the one, he need not just ensure her safety, but his son's as well.

"Let her go!" he roared, eyes glittering with anger. "Let. Her. GO!"

"I am afraid I cannot do that, my son." Lucius told him, looking back at his wife as Ms. Cole and the children shrieked in terror. "And, if my son is still in there, I implore you to remain calm. I will not harm her."

"Let her go!"

"Forgive me, please."

Draco's eyes widened.

A hot-ironed pain coursed through him. His father had struck him against the head, causing him to lose balance and stumble to the floor, crashing like a giant tower. The echo of his landing was deafening. As his father's magic came to force him into submission, his body seized up, and finally his eyes closed and his beast was once again locked up.

"I need medical assistant." He murmured, eyes wide in the aftermath of what he had done. "Now!"

The children's Mistress came between them before he could ask what happened. Children were beginning to arrive at the Drawing room. "Go fetch Mr. Filch. I will need Poppy as well."

Those who had dared to show up made themselves scarce upon their Mistress' words. It was not a simple demand, it was a command. They knew better not to go against her wishes.

Soon, the Master of the Orphanage arrived along with their nurse on call. The room was swarmed with several individuals that escaped the family's notice, although their main concern was for both children.

Hermione was taken away in a blaze of white. As reluctant as she had been, Ms. Cole accepted it had remained moderately by her side throughout the duration of her recovery. Night had fallen, and she was walking aimlessly around the dark corridors with the only source of light coming from the tip of Lucius wand, and the direction of his voice.

By the time Ms. Cole was able to calm her down, Narcissa's nerves were shocked and her eyes were red from all the tears that she shed. She did not know what to make of her son. After all this time, his sudden interest in something he ought to leave alone was crashing down upon her like the worst kind of weight. The only uplifting thing that she could hold onto was her husband, whom had awoken from his senses and was now stroking the back of her hand in an effort to calm her. Their host was busy with arranging tea and making sure that the orphans were attended to. With a transient look out the window, Narcissa could not believe the events that led up to such a startling conclusion.

"Do forgive me," Ms. Cole said the moment she arrived back. She was wiping her hands on her apron, caring not that her hair was a mess or her spectacles were askew. She was in just a deplorable state as she was! "The children were quite frightened by your son's outburst. I am sure Hermione's contribution was no better. However, they are used to see her… crumble and break apart. Not much can be said about the young Lord."

"H-he is unwell."

"Yes, quite." The Mistress agreed halfheartedly. "It seems that this whole fiasco has come to a bit of a surprise to you despite how prone your son is to such outbursts."

"He is usually in control of his... urges." Lady Malfoy stammered uncontrollably. It was like fighting a dreadful cold. "Madam Cole, I must implore you not to speak to anyone about this matter. Not because it would ruin our image, but it would ruin our son. We cannot put him through that pain. He is but a child."

Ms. Cole looked at her and said," The young Lord's secret is well kept. I assure you that I will not speak about this to anyone."

A swirl of smoke came between them, and an oath was made. The older woman did not seem to question it. Nor did Narcissa.

"There is another matter to attend to, I assume."

The terrified woman nodded. "Yes."

"Zis es madness!" cried Madam Maxim.

Both women had nearly forgotten her presence, despite her towering form. During the episode, she had gathered reinforcement and called upon the Ministry of Magic. Filing a complaint and having to obliviate a house filled with children came to an overwhelming end to an equally heavy day. Maxime was quite unlike herself.

Ms. Cole pursed her lips. "As I very well know, Madam Maxime, you are not happy about the arrangements."

"I 'ave told you that I would take care of the girl!"

"T-the girl?"

The Mistress glanced at the distraught woman and sighed. "Maxime came to me some time ago. She had requested that she take up Hermione after I-I mailed her about her unique abilities. I had nowhere else to turn to, and she was willing to come and speak to her when the time was right."

Lady Malfoy looked at the tall woman and something significant clicked in her mind. "You are the Headmistress of Beauxbaton. They are one of the finest Wizarding Schools in Paris."

To that, she smiled.

"I am honored zat ze magnificent Lady Malfoy recognizes my dear school. Unfortunately, I did not 'ave ze pleasure to teach you, my Lady."

To this, Narcissa dipped her head in gracious ceremony.

"Hermione," Madam Cole began carefully after their heartful union," I am worried about her. I presume you know why I have contacted Madame Maxime? It is in hopes that I can procure her a better future."

Narcissa gave the other woman a look before nodding again.

Maxime had remained quiet throughout the conversation, but it looked as if it was her time to speak. The tall woman stood, smoothing down her dress and walked over to where they stood. A large window was their only audience. It showed what their hearts could not.

"It is within my jurisdiction to ensure that my students have the best education that they possibly can have. After today's events, I cannot say that I am able to sustain the girl the way she needs to be sustained."

"What are you trying to ask?"

"I am asking that, imploring you, really, that you reconsider taking the child." Ms. Cole looked sternly at her Lady. "This is the only place that they have. Hermione and the younger children, as you know, have grown up here. Some have travelled far just to find shelter here."

"You know that is not under my jurisdiction, my dear woman." Narcissa said imploringly. "My husband is the one who handles our affairs."

"Perhaps it is time to change that, yes?"

Narcissa looked beside herself.

To ask such a thing would be certain treason.

All the while, Lord Lucius had taken it upon himself to remain silent. An ever-important observer, he had final say on what would do with the girl and his son.

In the end, he knew that he chose wisely.

"What do you mean we cannot see her?" asked Millie, a little agitated. "If she is ill, we have every right to see her!"

"You must not come close to her," Madam Pomfrey huffed. She was clearly annoyed by their constant whining. "I shall call you in when she awakens. Now, off you go. There are chores to be done and lessons to take."

The children grumbled as one by one exited the room, all accusing her of being a right witch and that they would be safe from whatever had ailed their friend. Everyone left except for Elizabeth, who, once she had learned what happened to her, immediately took it upon herself to try to nurse her back to health. To no avail, that is. Madam Pomfrey did not take special liberties to anyone, including her closest friend.

"I am afraid I cannot let you stay, Elizabeth." The head nurse said with a sigh. "It is the Mistress' will that no one stays with her."

"But, I want to help!"

"I know you do, love." cooed the old woman. "Unfortunately, I cannot allow it."

"If it is the plague afflicting her, I do not care!" the little girl cried. "I want to be there when she awakens."

"Elizabeth-"

"If it is Harold's doing, then he did not mean it!" the distraught girl cried, trying to adhere to her better sensibilities. "He did not mean it!"

"Enough, Elizabeth." Ms. Cole's cruel voice shattered her resolve.

They both turned to find her standing at the door to the small room. The enclosure had been set up several years ago as a small doctor's office. Madam Pomfrey had not changed since she dedicated her time to the orphanage, and Ms. Cole would forever be in her debt.

"I will not have you rousing the ailing," she told her sharply. "Besides, you are missing your lessons."

"I do not care for my lessons," murmured the girl as she looked between the bed where her friend lay helpless and their Mistress. "I want to see her waken."

"And, you will." Ms. Cole seemed very adamant about the prospects. "As for now, she needs rest."

Elizabeth began to chew on her lips in earnest. "You are you certain?"

"Of course, my child."

"You will call me the moment she awakens?" she asked, then.

"You have my word."

Between a moment's hesitation, Elizabeth smiled. Giving the sleeping girl one last gesture of longing, she turned and ran out of the room. A sigh of relief prevailed as it encompassed the two women.

"See to it that no one else comes to disturb her." Ms. Cole walked toward the bed that Hermione lay in, checking that she was well. "She has been traumatized enough and I do not wish for the younger children to come near her until she is well again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Excellent."

"What shall I do about the tremors?"

The Mistress raised an eyebrow, knowing full well to what she was referring to.

Ever since the incident, the young girl had been plagued with uncontrollable tremors that looked as if nothing could cure. Though sedated, Hermione's body and mind had been completely disturbed and the Mistress feared that even on bed rest, it would not be sufficient enough to heal her. She knew not what to do.

"Watch her," she said softly. "Call me as soon as she-"

A loud, piercing scream alerted their attention.

Hermione began to trash about in her bed, her head whipping around as she tried to throw whatever was attacking her off her fragile body. With each disheartening scream, the two women grew more and more anxious and desperate. Madam Pomfrey did her best to restrain the girl, and it was only then when the door opened and a figure stepped into the room that she stopped moving, her breath coming out in large, unregulated gasps. Her eyes fluttered over the tight skin of her eyelids, before they shot open and welcomed the light.

"Madam Cole," Lord Lucius greeted the Mistress, and nodded curtly at the caretaker "I came to speak with the girl."

"Forgive me, but can you not see that she is unwell?"

"I do believe my eyes are not going yet," the Lord said with a sly smirk before it disappeared entirely. "But, I believe that I requested that I speak to the girl before my departure. Now, leave us be."

There was a discernable discretion between the two women, but their actions spoke louder than their words. As they made their way toward the door, Madam Cole sent the young girl a fleeting look before vanishing behind the threshold. The door softly clicked behind her.

Lord Lucius had watched the interaction, and by the time he looked back toward where she lay, Hermione had sat up and was looking at him with pleasant inquiry. He smiled at her, coming to a soft halt at the foot of her bed.

"Young Lady," he said, not knowing the identity of her name. "I have come to reason with you."

When she did not speak, he took it upon himself to elaborate.

"It seems that your encounter with my son, Lord Draco, has become more interesting that I initially anticipated. What escalated between the two of you has become news of this small town. But, I assure you that you are not in trouble, even if the consequences are dire."

"Dire, sir?" she asked, her voice cracking quite a bit. Her eyes went wide for a moment.

"Yes, dire." He surmised to instill. "With that said, I wish to give you something as a token of my gratitude." The Lord began to pull something out from his pocket, and was just about to present it to her when she said something that made him stopped in mid-action.

"I do not think that is appropriate, sir." Hermione gathered the blanket draped over her body and looked at him. "I did not do a thing."

He frowned. "You silly girl, what on earth are you going on about? Of course, you did something. As insignificant as you think it is, you have done something extraordinary to say the least."

"W-what do you mean?" she whispered, vulnerable.

"I mean, I wish to gift you something for the time being." He procured the item he wished to give her. When he did, her eyes lit up and she stammered for words.

The heart shaped glass held a tiny little figure that even Hermione could not surpass the gasps that fell from her lips. As the stunning visual came into light, she became shocked at the sight of it.

In his hands was a priceless antique, one that he wished that the young lady would not take great offense to. He did take great consideration when making the gift.

Engrossed by the idea, he presented it to her nonetheless.

"Until the day comes when you shall be reunited with him again, you hold his heart on your breast."

Hermione looked at him, not knowing what to do with it as he lay in in her outstretched hand, an action she had been too blind to see. As the weight of the necklace became acquainted with her, magic rose around her and settled like a flurry of wind upon hers.

-End of Part One-

A/N: After countless months, I've finally come around to finishing and editing this chapter. And, it couldn't have come at a better time.

I'm thinking about just making these ten or so chapters into the Prologue, and then going with the actual story that is Beauty and the Beast. I'm not entirely sure yet. I still have to go back and edit the rest of the chapters (I've only been able to edit chapter 1 T.T)

On a lighter note: Have y'all SEEN Beauty and the Beast? :)

Editing this was extremely hard. For one, my left eye kept twitching and being the self-diagnosing woman that I am, I came to discover that it can be the result of too much sleep, not enough of sleep, stress and other health related ailments. Hmm, I wonder which one! I'm definitely at a point where I am able to get enough of sleep, and perhaps too much of it if you ask me. Sooo~~ cD I'll let y'all decide!

I had also planned on revising In the Garden, giving it a much well-deserved facelift. I still intend to do so!

Anyway, Happy Mother's Day!

See y'all very soon :)

-CS