As they emerged from the forest, Hermione saw for the first time Belle's village. It surprised her to see that it wasn't snow-covered like the enchanted castle. The weather was, in fact, completely different. It felt positively balmy and warm. She began to sweat under her thick cloak and full-length, long-sleeved dress.
Nestled in rolling green hills, the village was quintessentially picturesque. Hermione loved it immediately. The small, rustic buildings. The smell of the grass. She almost forgot that she had been taken captive and was being brought to an asylum.
Gaston led his horse around the village to a large building on the edge. The looming stone structure of the asylum looked eerie to Hermione as compared with the cheery buildings around. The dark windows seemed to be like vacant eyes watching their approach.
Gaston halted the horse in front of the building and dismounted. He pulled Hermione down to stand in front of him.
"Listen here, Belle," Gaston said. "I will be merciful and offer you a choice. Either you agree to marry me and become my wife, or I will have no choice but to hand you over to the proprietor of this establishment."
Hermione stood aghast. Did this man truly have the gall to ask her to marry him after he'd forcibly taken her against her will?
"I'll never marry you," Hermione declared.
Gaston sighed. Lefou snickered from behind them. "Rejected AGAIN?" he said. "Poor Gaston just can't get a break."
"Hush, you," Gaston said. He turned back to Hermione. "Then you leave me no choice."
He marched to the door, dragging Hermione behind him. He raised a large fist and pounded on the door.
A few moments later, the door opened revealing a crook-back old man with a long, pointed nose. Something about him made the hairs on Hermione's back stand up.
"Yes?" the man asked, his voice deep and ominous.
"Monsieur D'Arque," Gaston said. "It appears that Belle has been enchanted. I found her at an enchanted castle in the woods."
"Enchanted castle you say?" Monsieur D'Arque breathed. "You found it?"
"Why, yes," Gaston said, sounding startled. "It didn't prove to be that difficult after all."
"Not difficult you say?" Monsieur D'Arque said. "I've been searching for it for years. You must bring me there."
"But what about Belle?" Gaston said. "Will you break the enchantment on her?"
"Yes, yes," Monsieur D'Arque said impatiently. "Let me examine her."
He turned his sharp gaze onto Hermione. She refused to shrink down under his scrutiny and stood tall. Let him examine her.
"Come with me," Monsieur D'Arque said, his eyes not leaving Hermione.
They entered the dark asylum. Despite the bright morning sun outside flooding in through the open door, Hermione could not see more than several feet ahead of her. It was as if the proprietor of the facility wanted to be the only one who could navigate its depths. Monsieur D'Arque lifted a candle from a small table and led them into a slightly more illuminated room.
The wall was lined with primitive-looking instruments. Hermione suppressed a shudder. Some of them looked like they deserved to be in a medieval torture museum. She hoped he wouldn't use anything like that on her.
Monsieur D'Arque gestured for Hermione to sit on a wooden chair in the center of the room. The old man moved around her, muttering to himself as he took out an array of peculiar instruments from his worn leather bag.
He began with a long black baton. He brought it close to Hermione's arm. It immediately shimmered with an ethereal light. As he moved it closer to her, tiny sparks danced along its surface like fireflies in the night.
Next, he brought out what looked like a needle. Hermione didn't like the looks of that. He grabbed her hand and Hermione pulled back, resisting.
"Help me," Monsieur D'Arque said.
Gaston grabbed Hermione's hand and forced it open so that Monsieur D'Arque could prick her finger with the needle. Hermione glared at Gaston with immense dislike. How could a man treat the woman he wanted to marry like this?
Blood welled to the tip of her finger. Monsieur D'Arque brought out a small crystal vial filled with silverly liquid that seemed to swirl and pulse with a life of its own. He squeezed the blood from Hermione's finger into the vial. It swirled and even more rapidly and turned a bright green color.
"Well, well, well," Monsieur D'Arque exclaimed, his voice filled with a grim satisfaction. "It appears that this woman possesses magic."
"Possesses magic?" Gaston asked. "Are you sure? It's not just remnants of a spell?"
"I know my equipment," Monsieur D'Arque said. "She's got power of her own." Turning to Gaston, he said, "You have yet again brought me quite the prize, my dear boy."
Gaston shifted slightly. "I want her intact," Gaston said. "I intend to marry her. She's the perfect woman to create beautiful offspring with."
"Oh, if that's all you require," Monsieur D'Arque said. "She'll be able to fulfill those…requirements…when I'm through with her."
Hermione was disgusted. What kind of place had she been brought to? This man clearly hunted and harmed magical people.
"But first," Monsieur D'Arque said. "I want you to show me this enchanted castle, Gaston. I will put her away…for now. You two may wait here."
Leaving Gaston and Lefou behind, Monsieur D'Arque led Hermione through another door which opened into a dark hallway. Hermione could see nothing. Monsieur D'Arque had left the candle behind and navigated them by memory. Hermione heard the sounds of him opening a hatch and he pulled her downstairs. Stumbling and trying not to fall, Hermione tried to follow the rhythm of the stairs.
As they reached the bottom, Hermione could tell that they were underground. The air smelled earthy and stale. The darkness seemed to deepen though her eyes had begun to adjust to faint light filtering in from narrow windows high upon the walls. Monsieur D'Arque led Hermione through labyrinthine passageways. In the darkness, Hermione thought she made out rows of cell-like compartments filled with inhabitants of all shapes and sizes.
Suddenly, they halted. "Here," Monsieur D'Arque said, opening a cell door and shoving her inside. "I'll be back for you later."
In the darkness, Hermione had never felt more alone.