Prompt: Beauty & The Beast (2017)

This piece was written for Harmony & Co's Harmony at the Movies: A Film Fest. All canon characters, plots, dialogue, and situations from the Harry Potter Series belongs to JK Rowling. All plots, dialogue, and situations from the movie Beauty and the Beast (2017) belong to Walt Disney Studios. I am not profiting from this work.

I'd like to sincerely thank tweety-src-clt9 and Sakubato for their hard work and dedication in polishing this story. If it weren't for their patience and care, I doubt this story would have been as good as it is now.

I'd like to thank Sakubato for his work on this chapter.

Prologue

Once upon a time, somewhere neither here nor there, a handsome young Lord lived in a beautiful castle…

The young Lord scowled, green eyes narrowing. He faced a pair of gilded golden door that was shut. Beyond that, music and laughter can be heard from the other side. The party, his party has started.

Crystal glasses clinked as guests danced upon the marble floor, golden gelded crystal chandeliers hanging high up above them in the opulent ballroom. Countless exquisite and priceless objects in the hall, from the vases, to the crystal ornaments are there to be viewed and appreciated by those attending. Beautiful vases, golden travesties, detailed portraits, and solid gold serving plates are some things that can be seen.

However, all that pales in comparison to the beauty of those attending. Some of the fairest and most exotic beauties can be seen frolicking in the ball, dancing the night away. For the Lord did not just invite anyone to his parties. He invited the most beautiful ones of them all, for he refused to surround himself with nothing but splendor. Every one of his guests, coming from far and wide to attend, all as much on display as the inanimate objects there.

Staring ahead, the Lord did not pay much heed to the servants nervously adding the finishing touches onto his person. Adding another colorful coating of powder on his face, highlighting the bold gold paint with delicate green lines, he smiled. Once done, he dismissed them offhandedly. His major-domo, a sandy brown lanky fellow, interrupted his contemplation and informed him that it is time for his grand entrance. Wearing the finest and most fashionable robes, he stood up and headed towards the door. The moment he passed through the doors, the servants, both hidden and visible gave a sigh of relief. A dark-haired servant frowned at that, but shrugged to those in the foyer, shaking his head.

The young Lord glided into the ballroom and seated himself on his golden throne on the stage, all whilst watching the many ladies dance in synchronization. He made eye contact with a red-headed woman, who was dancing close to the stage, and she blushed deeply. This is what he loves; to have the complete and utter ability of rendering a woman speechless from a single look. With a wave of his hand, the large diva started her performance for the Lord, Italian maestro playing away. He stood up and haughtily started to dance with each of the ladies in his presence, never failing to sway as appropriately close as possible. While dancing away, from lady to lady, the diva's tones reached an everlasting high pitch when…

Suddenly, a loud bang ricocheted across the ballroom, startling the diva into silence. The Lord looked around and signaled for the maestro to stop. The women stopped their synchronized dance, curious to see the cause of this disturbance. Another knock was heard from the glass door that leads to the rose garden. The Lord, who was curious at first, was furious. Who dared to disrupt his party, at the height of its activities? He roughly pushed away from the crowd, striding angrily to the direction of the loud banging. Heading towards the stage where his throne stands, he was about to reach it when the closed glass door suddenly opened.

The fierce cold wind which was all but ignored by the party-goers, wailed as the door blasted open in tandem with a flash of thunder. Rain poured in from the torrent outside, drenching the floor. The candles that were in the scones which lightened the room dimmed, wavered and almost immediately were put out. Dead leaves that littered the rose garden outside scattered the floor, and the warm temperature of the room chilled, as the cold icy wind entered. The Lord's handsome face contorted in rage.

A haggard figure stumbled past the gilded glass door. The figure trailed dirt and grime from who knows where onto the pristine floor. The party is officially ruined; there would be no way that this can become any worse. Ordering one of his servants to fetch him a candelabra, the Lord roughly grabbed it and turned to face the intruder.

The Lord strode forward towards the figure with a contorted face. His green eyes narrowed in disgust as he looked down upon the intruder in question, who had by then, fallen on the ground in tiredness, a withered cane beside them. The figure looked up from its downed position, and the Lord was greeted with the ugliest and more wrinkled face he had ever seen. The grey hair was unkempt and dirty while the face of the now evident old woman was riddled with more wrinkles than smooth skin. He could not comprehend how a seemingly old and withered woman managed to pass through the wards surrounding his land.

As he peered down at the old woman, she looked back up at him. The old woman, noting the disdain on his face, held up a single red rose in offering; a rose that was most likely plucked from his very garden before. He looked down and derisively took the flower from her outstretched hand. Glancing at the flower, he coldly laughed. The ladies, who were watching the byplay between the Lord and the old woman, giggled and watched in amusement.

Scoffing at the so-called 'gift', he twirled the offering in his fingers. He cannot believe the audacity of this thing to just decide to barge in and ruin his party, and at what cost? A rose. He mockingly threw it near the old woman.

The old woman appeared shaken by the abrupt manner that the rose was thrown away. She looked at the gift that she had just offered him and shakily picked it up. She, again, stared at him pleadingly and offered it to him once more.

The Lord grabbed the rose roughly and glanced at it. He looked back at the old lady again and scoffed at her audacity. Doesn't she understand that he does not want nor need her gift? He can pluck any rose, any flower, from anywhere in the world, so why should he accept this, this insult? Tilting his head, and insuring that he has eye contact with the woman, he crushed the flower in his hand and threw it away. He turned around, preparing himself to call his servants to throw the intruder out when he realized that quite suddenly, a light seemed to be emitting from somewhere behind him.

Gasps can be heard from the direction of his guests and looking at their shocked and scared faces, a shiver went up his spine. He turned around, wondering what was going on behind him when he saw the hunched up woman beneath the cloak obscured from the light. The only thing he was able to discern is the hands. What was once fragile and brittle was smoothing right before his eyes into the hands of a young woman.

Light pouring out of her skin, the downed figure before him stood up slowly. Before his eyes, she transformed. The dirt that previously marred her cleared off. The wrinkles that were engraved smoothed, and the rose that was previously crushed in his hand regained its vibrancy as a tendril of light touched it. The previously old and weathered cloak became white and pristine. His mouth opened in shock, and the Lord took a step back. More tendrils of light poured out of the cloak, and before his eyes, smooth hands pulled down the hood... To reveal a beautiful Enchantress

He was met with the most beautiful face he had ever seen before. Long fair hair cascading down her face, stormy grey eyes alights with magic. She floated high up above him. He had read about this before, for she is an Enchantress. She came here to test him... And he had failed.

He dropped down on his knees, pleading for mercy but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no kindness in his heart. In the background, the guests fled the premise, in fear of being caught in the crossfire. A pair of twins ran into the room, wondering what was going on, and their mother chased after them, stopping them from coming closer to the happenings. The diva, maestro and all servants braced themselves against the wall.

Though the Lord pleaded her to reconsider, the Enchantress looked down at him stoically, unfazed by the chaos she brought. She came here to test him, to see if the Lord had a shred of kindness and love in his heart. Yet, he failed, even after being given more than one opportunity to prove otherwise. She held up the rose, and with a burst of magic, struck the Lord.

His eyes widened in shock. Deep within his chest, he felt a pressure building and building until at some point, something burst out of his skin. Painfully, he felt his limbs elongate and a heavy weight growing at the top of his head. His clothes burst from the seams, and hair sprouting out of every inch of skin on his body. He looked down at his hands and noticed, instead of his pale smooth skin, a hairy claw. He roared and unknowingly slashed across one of his portraits in anguish.

Another burst of magic shot out of the rose, and pulsed, surrounding the land and castle. Everyone who worked and lived in the castle felt themselves tethered and with a third wave of magic, transformed, similar to the beast she had created. The once human staff became household objects, from kitchenware, to furniture and antiques.

The Enchantress, once done with her work, disappeared in a burst of light, leaving the rose behind…

As days bled into years, the Lord and his servants were forgotten by the world. For the Enchantress had erased all memory of them from the minds of the people they loved. But the rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose. If he could learn to love another… and earn their love in return by the time the last petal fell, the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope...

For who could ever learn to love a beast?