A/N

Last night my daughter wanted to watch the cartoon version of Beauty and the Beast and immediately I began to think about Emma Watson in the real version, and then I started thinking about how the story could be tied to Hermione and Draco (avid Dramione shipper here!). I took notes throughout the movie and tried to make it relatable to the Wizarding World. So here is my take on Beauty and the Beast featuring Draco and Hermione. Welcome to Draco and the Dragon. I hope you enjoy it, and please read and review along the way :)

This story mainly focuses on the duo in the Manor. We don't see much of Ron and Harry until much later. All rights reserved, I own nothing. Cheers!

Draco Malfoy sat alone in his Manor staring at the silver dragon statue encased in a glass barrier as flames from the fire flickered around him. He was only a few months away from his twenty first birthday, only a few months away from losing his powers lest he find his true love, only a few months away from becoming a Muggle. He sneered as he thought about the consequences that awaited him if he failed to fulfill the old family tradition. It was a curse set upon his family by his ancestors, hell bent on ensuring the family name lived on for centuries to come. Generations upon generations of Malfoy's had been given the same fate, the same outcome, the same warning…

He sighed as he threw back the glass of amber liquid in his hand, wincing as the burn of fire whiskey flowed down his throat. It's not like he hadn't been trying to find his so called soul mate; he was at the pub every other night, and there was a list of women a mile long his mother had tried to introduce him to, not to mention the countless females he attended Hogwarts with over the years who would give anything to be wed to The Draco Malfoy. None of them, however, had the expected outcome they desired- none of them caused the dragon statue to glow green, and as more and more time passed the dragon slowly grew older and if he failed in his task to fall in love before midnight struck on June 5th, the dragon would die, and along with it his powers. The most frustrating thing for Draco was that no one in the history of the Malfoy family tree had ever had this much difficulty finding their mate. Months, that's all that remained. He was doomed.

"Master Draco," squeaked a house elf appearing in the room with a slight crack. He barely spared it a glance as he continued to stare into the fire, that damn dragon glistening in glow of the flames. "Master Draco dinner is served."

He set the now empty glass down and heaved himself to his feet as the house elf disappeared with another crack and made his way through the winding halls of the manor until he found himself in the dining hall with a long table, big enough for two dozen people, but set for only one.

Although Draco appeared to be alone in the house he wasn't. He was joined by house elves and portraits of his ancestors- portraits who never seemed to shut up. But these presences were nothing compared to that of another human- another witch, perhaps; if he ever meets her, that is.

"You only have a few months left, Draco. Surely you should be out looking for your future wife instead of brooding-" A portrait on the wall spoke as he watched the young man settle into the table.

"That's enough Argon." Draco growled angrily tucking into his plate. He'd heard this line countless times before and didn't want to suffer through another dinner with the same antics from his ancestors.

"That's plenty of time," Gerald replied flippantly. "Back in my day we met and wed within just a few weeks. Draco has nothing to fear."

With an annoyed huff he pushed his chair away from the table having hardly touched his meal and stormed out of the room. He didn't want to hear his ancestors speak of his future, he didn't want to hear their warnings, and he didn't want them to follow him- however he had no control over the latter as Malfoy Family Portraits decorated the manor, and no matter where he went they always seemed to be there.

Picking up his wand he shot a blasting curse at the couch, hoping to relieve some of his stress and frustration, but all it did was drain him and make him feel remorseful. As the flames flickered in the burning piece of furniture all he could think was "that was my favourite couch". He reached for the bottle of fire whiskey that sat on the table and, ignoring the glass that was next to it, tipped the bottle back and slugged a few mouthfuls without so much of a wince this time.

Little did he know his life was about to get a lot more interesting.

Hermione Grange was often labelled as "the brightest witch of her age". In school she received top marks in all of her classes, she fought vigilantly in the war and came out on the winning side of things, and since that day she's been working hard as part of the Ministry in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She was good at her job and, although she wasn't an auror, she was often found to be out working on cases for days- weeks- at a time (after all she's proven time and time again that she was perfectly capable of holding her own and taking care of herself), which was why nobody thought anything of it when she went missing for several weeks, they all assumed she had had a break through on her case, never would they have imagined to send a search party for her- if she was ever really missing at all, that is.

Hermione rushed through the forest intent on tracking it- tracking them! She's had a lead, a secret source so to speak, that told her everything she'd need would be found in this forest. Her case had come to a dead end after all and she hadn't known which way to go up until she received that Owl telling her that the answers to all her troubles were here- in this forest. The Owl had come as a surprise to her, though. She hadn't confided in anyone about how difficult her case had become, nor that she had become stuck, but she welcomed any advice to help move her case along and decided it wouldn't hurt to follow through with the anonymous tip.

She slowed her steps as she approached a clearing and waved her wand trying to detect any clues that related to her case. The tip of her wand flared a bright blue and she sighed, a smile coming to her face- she was getting somewhere. Could this be the big break she was waiting for? With bated breath she plowed on, quietly brushing limbs and branches away until she found herself on the edge of a gravel drive. She gasped as she looked towards the big manor that lay at the end, surrounded with tall gates and vines which intertwined them. Was this the place? Had she finally found it?

The manor appeared to be dark, empty- abandoned. It wouldn't hurt to take a look around to see, truly see, if this was the place she had been seeking. But she had to be careful; there were likely wards, enchantments, and multiple protection spells surrounding the place. She was no stranger to such spells and she believed herself quite capable of detecting and breaking them.

She waved her wand and nodded, satisfied with what she saw- there was indeed a layer of protection around the manor, nothing she couldn't get through though, after all she had no choice; if her suspicions were correct, and they usually were, she needed to enter the grounds, possibly even the manor itself, to find the answers she sought.

Breaking the wards proved to be much easier than she expected- in fact, the protections hardly put up a fight as she muttered enchantments under her breath and swirled her wand; before long she was able to cross the gates and into the property. However as she walked she became a little suspicious that it had been a little too easy to get inside, and she hadn't met any beasts along the way- surely she should have met some resistance by now? Even if the Manor was, indeed, abandoned as it seemed.

Holding her wand at the ready she crept down the long driveway until she came to the heavy door. She thought about knocking- surely that would be courteous thing to do?- but then thought better of it considering she was certain the house itself was empty. With a deep breath she pushed on the door listening as it creaked slowly open. A shiver went down her spine at the ominous feel. Taking her wand out again she performed the same spell as before watching, again, as the tip blazed blue- she was on the right path. It- they- were here, somewhere. The question was, where?

"Hello?" Hermione's voice echoed off of the walls as she proceeded into the dark entry way. Glancing around she saw a fireplace with a lone chair in front of it. Portraits lined the hall and she held her breath as she lit her wand, passing it over the many faces behind the frames. None of them held names, and all appeared to be sleeping.

Then she heard a voice whisper.

"It's a girl. A real girl. Inside the Manor."

"Who's there?" Hermione raised her wand further and passed it over more portraits, but none appeared to be awake.

"Here on her own accord? Without invitation?" This was a new voice, and it appeared to sound thoughtful. "But that could only mean-."

"Quiet Gerald," Another voice hissed. "We don't know that for sure."

"Who are you?" Hermione asked again as she continued down the hall. The voices had grown quiet now but she was starting to get the feeling that she wasn't as along as she had first believed she was. Her voice grew stronger as she called out, "Show yourself! Come out and face me."

"Alas," a voice said from right beside her, and she jumped, spinning around and holding her wand up higher. She stood face-to-face with a portrait who's eyes were wide open. He had grey eyes which looked vaguely familiar to her, dark hair, and a long pointed face. "That's just not possible, you see."

Hermione stared at the portrait through wide eyes for a moment before casting her wand to the one next to it; he, too, was no longer feigning sleep but studying her curiously. This portrait had a grey wig on his head, a round face, but those same grey eyes. There was something about those eyes, something that Hermione should have recognized, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Who are you?" She repeated in a softer voice, bringing her attention back to the first portrait.

"Gerald, at your service." He did a small bow from inside his frame then glanced at the man beside him. "And that one over there is Argon."

"And why are you here?"

"We live here," he stated simply. "We are the keeper of the Manor."

"Be quiet Gerald," hissed Argon, studying Hermione through narrowed eyes. "I don't trust the girl."

"But she made it inside, surely that means-."

"It means nothing," snapped Argon. "Nothing I say!"

"You must excuse him," Gerald replied, turning back to Hermione with a roll of his eyes. "He's been living her far longer than the rest of us."

"Are you here alone?" she inquired turning her back to the portraits so she could get a better look around the Manor.

Gerald opened his mouth to reply but Argon interrupted him. "That is none of your concern, Miss. Beg your pardon but what business do you have here?"

Affronted Hermione drew her shoulders back and faced the two portraits again. "I am on business with the Ministry. I am working on a case and-."

"We do not have your answers. We bid you good day." Argon stated simply, then he turned his back and walked out of his portrait. Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock before looking back at Gerald who sighed and shook his head, shrugged, then turned and left as well.

Although she was beyond curious to explore the manor further, she felt as if she'd invaded the space long enough. Surely she'd get her answers elsewhere. With a swish of her cloak she marched back towards the doors, reached for the handle, and pulled. Nothing happened. Bunching her eyebrows together she took a deep breath, grasped the handles firmly, and yanked harder- yet the door remained closed. Starting to feel anxious she withdrew her wand from her pocket and pointed it at the door, muttered a simply Alohomora, and prayed it would work- yet the door remained locked. Starting to panic she tried every spell she could think of, including Reducto, the blasting curse, thinking if she had to she'd burn the house down and walk from it's ashes and dust if it meant she got out of there alive. Yet, try as she might, the doors wouldn't budge.

There had to be another way out; yet the windows were all locked, and the doors wouldn't open, despite her tried efforts. Panting from all the magic she'd used within a short amount of time Hermione slumped into the single chair by the fire, dropped her face into her hands, and began to cry.

She didn't hear the footsteps approaching her, or the heavy breathing, or even the swish of the cloak- but she certainly felt the wand tip that pressed into her back, directly between her shoulder blades. She froze, her body going rigid, as a soft voice hissed in her ear. "You're sitting in my chair."