Beauty and the Beast

Greenhouse

Published: 02. February, 2022

As Christmas neared, the Beast and Hermione spent more and more time together. Hermione found joy in discussing books with him, mostly because she'd finally met someone who actually knew what she was talking about. She tried to push the thoughts about her parents and her friends away because all they did was make her very sad. She'd- never see them again, after all.

I wonder if they're looking for me, Hermione thought at times when she'd curled up in a chair in Severus' library. She'd often watch the stars through the large windows because it made her feel calmer to know that Harry, Ron, Ginny, Mrs. and Mr. Weasley, even Bernie, were probably glancing at those same stars every now and then. Maybe her parents too.

The Beast seemed to understand what was going on with her, but he didn't push her to speak to him about it, which Hermione was grateful for. He showed her his favorite places in the forbidden forest, such as where the wild unicorns grazed and where the river leading from the black lake went.

Hermione's riding got very good, and so did her dancing. She felt her chest, and her face, heat up now almost every time when she and the Beast danced a waltz, although she had no clue why.

Mr. Biscuit and Mrs. Potts could often be seen whispering in a corner, as if they were planning a conspiracy they wouldn't tell anyone about.

Hermione continued taking care of the greenhouses in her free time, and the Beast spontaneously showed up one day to help her.

"Maybe we could plant some roses," she suggested in the middle of December, as she stood in Greenhouse One. Hermione wiped a strand of hair out of her face, and accidentally smeared some dirt across her cheek. "I've always wanted a colorful greenhouse since I was little."

The Beast shot her a look that showed his lack of enthusiasm. "Define 'colorful'."

"Well, you know, like the greenhouse you'd find in stories, filled with all sorts of flowers." Hermione smiled dreamily. "With orchids and yellow roses, red poppy and blue cornflowers- oh, and hydrangeas! Bright pink ones! And there would be some shelves with green twiners growing down the sides. Perhaps we could make some hidden spots in the greenhouse, so it would be like a labyrinth where you'd find a cozy place to sit-"

The Beast listened with a slight smile on his face as Hermione carried on talking, absentmindedly pulling out the weeds from a pot. He carefully set it down and grabbed the next one.

"And the most important bit is to have a place to read," finished Hermione, "I'd have to place a charm on the books so they wouldn't mold from the humid air in here, but that can be arranged."

She looked at the Beast and her face turned scarlet when she realized for how long she'd been talking. "Sorry, I didn't mean to swamp you with all of this," she said sheepishly.

The Beast shrugged and grabbed a shovel, then walked up to Hermione and handed it to her, as well as an empty pot. The witch accepted both and began to fill the pot with fresh dirt.

"It's nice to hear about your plans. That's what keeps everyone going," he said, "Having dreams and working to fulfill them."
He fell silent, realizing that he'd kind of slacked off from focusing on his own dreams. Did he even have dreams? Besides leaving the shield?

Would brewing ever be an option for him again?

"You're right," said Hermione slowly and brushed the dirt off her hands. "I know that I'll probably never be able to leave this place. But I've always been one to want to explore new things, so- I'll guess- you'll have to get used to me doing some crazy things in the future." Her voice sounded a bit thick and she swallowed.

The Beast didn't know how to cheer her up, so all he said was, "I'll look forward to it." He looked at her and found himself wishing that he could help her get home, just to see her happy again.

Hermione snorted sarcastically and looked up. Her eyes met the Beast's dark ones and she realized he was staring at her intently.
"What?"

"Nothing," said the Beast and blinked. "You've got there some dirt." He motioned to her face.

Hermione reached up with a hand and rubbed over her cheek, smearing the dirt even further.

Without realizing what he was doing, the Beast lifted a hand and gently brushed across Hermione's cheek. He carefully cleaned the dirt away and Hermione lowered her hand in surprise, staring at him with wide eyes. The Beast's own eyes locked with hers again and his hand stilled, still resting against her cheek.

There was an odd feeling in his stomach, warm and- fluttery. The Beast suddenly noticed that Hermione's eyes were not just brown, they were a deep brown mixed with golden honey. He knew he should move, but he found himself transfixed by those eyes.

Once upon a time, a pair of green eyes had cast a spell on him. But now, he was feeling the magic of warm and trusting eyes and this time, the effect was many more times stronger. What was wrong with him?

The air grew warmer in the greenhouse and something crackled between them, a force of an unexpected intensity. The Beast's finger tips slowly brushed down the woman's cheek, tracing her jawline until his hand stopped at her chin. He kept his claws retracted, and gently tilted her head up.

Hermione felt a shiver running down her spine. The Beast's dark eyes bored into her own with an intensity that consumed her from head to toe. She didn't really know what was going to happen, but- she found she did not mind the Beast's touch. Not in the slightest.

Unbeknownst to the two, they'd moved closer. Neither of them wanted to move abruptly, fearing otherwise the spell would be broken, so they just moved slowly and inched closer to the other. Hermione felt the heat of the Beast's body and lightly laid her hand against his chest. His heart beat rapidly beneath her fingers, almost as fast as hers.

The young witch felt that her breathing had become more heavy, as if the oxygen she was inhaling was not enough for her brain. She was, in fact, feeling slightly dizzy.

The door slammed open and in the far back, something started barking. Hermione and the Beast jerked apart and whirled around. A footstool crashed into Hermione, sending her to the floor.

"Dog!" she exclaimed, having to laugh when he continued barking excitedly, "No- stop that- how did you get in here?"

The Beast grabbed the footstool and pulled it off Hermione so she could get up. His heart was still racing and the fact that Hermione wouldn't meet his eyes told him, that she was still as affected from the- moment they'd shared, as he was.

He dropped the footstool and Dog yowled loudly, then jumped up the Beast's trousers.

"Get off me," growled the Beast and bared his fangs at the footstool. He felt quite irritated because even though he had no clue what would have happened hadn't the dog burst in, some part of him had wanted to find out.

Dog whimpered and jumped back, crouching down.

"Oh, it's okay," said Hermione and bent down to scratch the footstool on, what she assumed, was the head. "You just need to learn some manners, Dog. Not everyone likes it when you jump at them."

The footstool flopped down, barking happily when Hermione continued the massage.

"You know," she said and smiled slightly, "I think we should give Dog a proper name."

"What's wrong with Dog?" said the Beast gruffly, "It's fitting."

"Technically, 'Footstool' would be even more fitting." Hermione giggled when Dog waggled his tail happily.

"And what did you have in mind?"

The witch looked up and smiled. "The name's been stuck in my head for a while, so- how about 'Fang'?"