Yes, I'm back!. Yes, with a new fic as well (Sorry... It just wouldn't leave me.)
Inspired by: surprise-surprise the newest movie Beauty and the Beast in which Emma did an awesome job of portraying Belle, I barely even thought of her Hermione Granger until afterwards, which was where this idea began.
Warning: I do not own Beauty and the Beast or Harry Potter. They belong to their respective owners. Also this is not beta-ed yet, so if you want to help me fix mistakes - be my guest!
Summary: Hermione really hadn't meant to! But after nearly dropping dead, falling through the Veil, stranding in this new mediëval world, chasing a wand-snatching witch, crashing into snow and neary falling prey to wolves. being turned down by a snobish cold-hearted prince had been the last straw. Her magic reacted... and all that remained was a Beast - It doesn't end there.
I would like to tell you a story, will you be my guest?
Beauty, Veil and a Beast
Chapter 1: Making of the Beast
The young woman cursed under her breath, her pale hands clenched on the shaking broom she was flying on. Strands of her hair were literally frozen as she flew through the icy rain and snow. The wooden object groaned in protest as it struggled against the wild wind.
Hermione Granger was not happy.
Her whole being was shivering, cold to the bone. She noticed the wood cracking and she frowned in worry – which was painful. The trip that she had taken before had not been good for the broom. But to the witch's relief, the magic - it's charms and everything that kept it in the air - had held quite steady...
Until – of course – it didn't anymore.
A final sound of protest from the broom was the only warning before it suddenly twisted and fell.
The sudden movement caused the woman to lose her balance and topple over with an alarmed yelp.
As both of them fell towards the unyealding earth, a high pitch scream escaped her throat. She desperately tried to push her magic into the object – for once more acting on instrinct than her brain.
With a pulse of magic the broom trounced the gravity once again – she was barely able to keep her right hand on the broom. Probably the only thing that had saved her from losing her grip on the groom was the fact that her muscle had been cramped up for a half hour because of the freezing wind.
The sudden stop of her broom caused a such a great stress to her schoulder - that Hermione wonder if it had become discolated.
Still, the young woman let out a shaking breathe of relief. At least, for just a moment, before the broom lost its flight once again. Luckily, with a few more lucky magic pulses, the woman didn't fall to her death, but into a thick layer of freezing snow instead.
It took a few seconds before Hermione emerged again, snow and curse words coloring the air once more. She ended her tirade with a cry of frustration as she ran a hand through her frosted unmoving hair. A small sound escaped her – not quite a sob, but it was close.
The world didn't offer her any time to brood though, as a growl put her survival instinct back on track. As she slowly turned around, she noticed the large dark wolf at the other side of the clearing that she had crashed into.
Her hand reached toward her wa-
The wand that she didn't have with her. Her heartrate spiked as three more wolves appeared right next to - what appeared to be – their leader.
She backed away slowly, clutching the broom in front of her – the only weapon that she had. The wolved prowled toward her.
She hefted her broom.
A figure sprung right in between them, easily towering over her.
It's sudden appearance made the wolves back off as it's hooves swung dangeriously in the air. The white horse turned and for a moment their eyes met. A few moments later, before Hermione quite knew what she was doing, the horse pushed against her side and grasped his manes. With adrenline fueling her actions she twisted herself onto its back, silently glad that she had taking a horse ridings lessons during her muggle holidays.
The wolves didn't like the fact that their free meal was taking off, began their chase.
I would like to tell you a story, will you be my guest?
Hermione still wasn't quite sure what happened, but they somehow managed to lose them. Not without costs though. The white horse had quite a few bloody scratches running down it's back. Her own arm had been clawed at – she would need to disinfect that somehow later.
The horse trudged on, seemingly having a destination in mind. The storm of the snow made it difficult to see ahead. She didn't she the familar lights of a castle until they were very close, moving through an open gate. The castle reminded her of the many warm memories of Hogwarts, allowing her to breath a just little easier.
And all the more determined to find her way back to her friends.
She would need to find the Other Witch first. She had to get her wand back. Reaching into her coat – thank Merlin that Unspeakables were forced to wear one - she pulled out the parting gift that the Other Witch had given her.
A beautiful red rose.
"Come and find me. The rose will lead you the way."
She had used it a few times already. All it took was a little tingle of magic – and she would feel the soft pull right into the right direction.
So once again the witch pushed just a tiny bit of magic in the rose to let it lead her. Hermione was startled when she was practically flung forward and towards the ground by its pull. As she managed to right herself by slipping of the horse. Said animals was watching her with intelligent eyes.
Why was her magic fluctuating like that?
Why was there no clear direction for her to follow?
A soft push of the horse's nose at her back nudged her towards the castle. She looked over her shoulder towards the horse, giving it a sharp look.
For a moment she pondered about interogating the animal – there was something going on that she couldn't quite place yet with the brain freeze that she was enduring. The animal twisted it neck – as if rolling its eyes – and gave her another nudge.
A castle with many warm lights and glows of fire. Somewhere where she could warm up again... Warmth... and maybe something to eat.
"Fine! But I'm not done with you yet!" Hermione muttered as she made her way towards the large stairs, towards the back of the castle. She pulled her hood up and snuggled in her dark coat. Not seeing a large official entry, she walked towards a large pair of doors that seemed like her only option.
As she placed her hand on it, preparing to knock, it flung open. The force of the wind adding a dramatic effect. The witch's eyes widened as she took in the scene in front of her – some sort of ball with a very particular style of fashion.
Still the hall was so warm that she couldn't help but take a few steps into the castle. A glow in the corner – a fire – and the scent of food – caught her attention. Maybe she could just...
"Who dares to interrupt?" A voice snarled, interupting her thoughts.
She startled, focusing on the young man in front of her. His odd state of dress couldn't distract her from the nasty expression on his face, nor the sliver of thoughts – more like impressions - that she could read from his mind as their gaze met.
He reminded her of Draco Malfoy almost immediately, making her hands itch in response. It was not often that she met someone that she wanted to punch within a few seconds.
"I apologise..." She tried to start, knowing that even though she disliked this 'Lord' already, she would have to be polite in order to be let in.
"Please, I'm looking for shelter from the storm." Hermione tried in vain, gasping as he rudely pushed away the hood of her cloak. Her appearance was rather raghard she knew – mud, hair wild form the wind and frozen as it was, tiredness and sadness turning her eyes somber.
He seemed to agree with her as his impression turned even uglier, as if having bitten on something sour.
"That's not my problem, leave now or I will have you thrown out."
"I can do some small jobs in return?"
"I'm not in need of a beggar."
"I can give you this." She offered the Rose to him. She needed it, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to survive the night without some proper shelter soon.
"You can't give me anything that I want." He snarled nastily. A quick glance over his shoulder towards the muttering crowd behind him, his expression suddenly twisted.
"Or are you looking to entertain me in a certain way? Maybe then I can spare you some bread" He sneered, loud enough for the people to hear.
It took a second for his words to properly register – while her brain double-checked if that was really what he was implying - while the crowd behind him laughed.
As the roar of the laughing increased, so did Hermione's hidden temper. The self-control that she was known for snapped, so did the control over the chaotic magic that had been acting out ever since she had ended up her.
For a moment, Hermione literally saw red as she yelled at him.
" How DARE you! You – you filthy BEAST!"
The results were... unexpected.
Really, she really hadn't meant to!
Next chapter: Once upon a time...