After a hasty dinner, where they filled in Mrs. Potts and began speculating what might have happened to Adam's mother, they followed Cogsworth through the castle and onto a now familiar path that Hermione had trod before.
They were headed to the West Wing.
Fearing another outburst, she did not question the direction as she followed Cogsworth alongside the Beast named Adam.
As they climbed the stairs, Hermione again saw the destruction in the hallway as they reached the landing. Yet, they did not go towards the set of doors she'd seen at the end of the hall. Instead, they went to the pristine preserved end just at the edge of the landing. The area that had drawn Hermione when she'd been exploring and the Beast had yelled at her.
Cogsworth opened the door and went inside, followed by Adam's hulking form. Feeling like she'd come full circle, Hermione entered the room she'd stumbled upon the other day.
She noted again the elegant simplicity of the room. Understated, yet showing the wealth evident of someone living in a castle. A realization struck her.
"Did this room belong to your mother?" Hermione asked.
"Yes," Adam replied shortly.
Hermione noted that it was the only room on this floor that hadn't been destroyed.
"It was the mistress's study," Cogsworth said, moving to the desk. "She kept her own bookkeeping and company here."
"I see," Hermione said, taking in the room. There was a sitting area with elegant couches and a desk at the other end of the room with a wall of books behind it. Across from the door was a large window with a cushioned bench where she could easily see sitting there reading and taking in the sun. Simple landscapes dotted the wall depicting scenes of nature.
"Let's take a look at the books," Adam said. Cogsworth indicated some nondescript books behind the desk and Adam began pulling them out and flipping through the pages.
"Is this the most recent one?" he asked Cogsworth, showing him a page in a book.
"I believe so, sir," Cogsworth replied, watching as Adam flipped through the pages. "Ah yes, see, the pages are blank here. She didn't finish this one."
Hermione peered over their shoulders as they poured over the book. She couldn't make much sense of it and left them to it, opting to explore the room.
She moved to look at the books on the wall. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Not that she knew what might be "ordinary" in 18th-century France, but she made her best guess anyway.
Hermione walked over to the fireplace near the couches and looked at the various knick-knacks on top of it.
The shelves that lined the walls also contained knick-knacks. Collections of items that Adam's mother had accumulated over the years.
A movement caught her eye. On the mantlepiece was a small portrait that she recognized as a small dog. A Yorkshire Terrier, to be specific. The long hair of the dog was perfectly groomed. It stood as if frozen in time. She wondered if this had been Adam's mother's dog at one point. Despite its stillness, she could have sworn she saw its tail wag.
Next to the dog, was another small portrait of a woman that looked vaguely familiar to Hermione. She stared at the portrait. The woman's face looked calm and serene. The woman stared blankly into space. Hermione moved closer and peered into the woman's face. She had golden hair that cascaded down her back in golden waves.
"It's you!" Hermione cried. She recognized the woman from her dream the night before.
The woman flinched but did not respond.
It was as Hermione suspected, a magical portrait.
"I saw you move," Hermione said.
"No, I didn't," the portrait replied, then gasped and shook her head at herself angrily.
"Who are you talking to?" Adam rumbled from across the room, his deep voice echoing.
"A portrait," Hermione said without looking away.
"You're talking to a portrait?" Adam said, crossing the room. Cogsworth hopped along behind him, trying to catch up.
"Why yes," Hermione said as if nothing was unusual about talking to a portrait. Because, of course, to her, nothing was unusual about that.
"How irregular," Cogsworth said.
"After an entire castle getting transformed, you think that talking to a portrait is unusual?" Hermione asked.
"It is in this castle," Cogsworth replied huffily.
"And why are you talking to a portrait?" Adam asked.
"It's an animated portrait," Hermione said. "Look at her!" She pointed to the woman who had resumed her previous position.
"I think it's probably time for you to go to bed," Adam said, not unkindly. "It's been a long day."
"In this world of enchantments, you don't believe that a portrait can talk?" Hermione asked, shocked.
"I don't think it's not possible, but I've seen that portrait hundreds of times and she hasn't so much as moved," Adam replied. "That's my mother's friend from school, Colette. My mother would visit her often in Paris. She told me stories about her."
"I dreamed about her," Hermione mused. "I wonder why."
The woman's eyes flicked to Hermione and back again.
"Wait, I think I saw something," Adam said. "I must be getting tired too."
"She can move, I tell you!" Hermione asserted. "Magical portraits are imbued with the magic of the artist to move and even talk."
The words sat in the air for a few moments. Then Adam nodded his large head.
"Okay, I believe that it's possible," Adam replied slowly. "After all we've talked about today, I can see that it's possible."
"Master!" Cogsworth exclaimed. "What are you saying?"
"Cogsworth, do you truly believe that after all we've been through that a portrait couldn't talk?" Adam asked the talking clock.
Cogsworth pondered for a moment. "I suppose that's true."
They all turned back to look at the portrait on the mantle. She looked strained to Hermione. As if she were forcing herself to be still. Her face began to redden.
"Is her face—?" Adam started and trailed off.
"Yes! All right! I can talk!" she exclaimed. "And so can everyone else in here."
At her words, the Yorkie in the adjacent portrait began to bark and run around, chasing its tail. The elements inside of the landscapes that dotted the room began to move. Trees swayed in the breeze, water lapped against the shores, and the wildlife moved about.
"What in the world?" Adam wondered aloud.
"It looks as if some kind of charm bound all of the portraits so that they remained still," Hermione commented.
"Yes, that's right, Miss Know-It-All," the portrait said primly. "And who are all of you? Why hasn't Estelle been to visit me?"
"That's what we're trying to find out," Adam said. "My mother, Estelle, vanished years ago."
"Vanished? Your mother? I don't know where to start," replied the woman in the portrait looking baffled. She focused her eyes on Adam, squinting a little. "You are Adam?"
"Yes, Madame Colette," Adam replied. "An enchantress transformed me into this form."
"Curious," the woman replied. "You've grown so big! And hairy! I remember you running about this study as a young lad."
"Would you happen to know anything about why Adam's mother might have vanished?" Hermione asked.
"Let me think," Colette replied. "Estelle and her wretched husband had a huge fight the last time I saw her. In this very room. It seems like he'd discovered that she'd been allocating funds to her school."
"Was it called Beauxbatons?" Cogsworth asked, seeming to get over his shock and scandalization that a portrait could talk. "We saw regular withdrawals in the books for a place with that name."
"Why, yes!" Colette exclaimed.
"Beauxbatons?!" Hermione cried. "The wizarding school in France?"
"You know of this place?" Adam asked, surprised.
"Of course I do," Hermione said, she turned to the portrait. "Adam says you were school friends with Estelle."
"Yes, until I had to return to my home school," Colette replied. "We kept in touch and reunited when I moved to Paris."
"What school did you transfer back to?" Hermione asked.
Colette studied Hermione. "I suppose I can tell you. Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts!" Hermione cried. "That's my school! And where Belle is now." She turned to Adam. "Your mother must have known how to do magic then if she went to Beauxbatons."
"Of course, she knew how to do magic!" Colette exclaimed. "She was one of the most talented artists of our time. She did this portrait of me after all."
Adam looked positively stunned at this revelation.