This is a re-written vesion of an old story I used to have on an old account. this is also the first thing I'm going to publish here, because why not. I still like the older version and at first I planned to just re-upload. but after looking over it with a friend and discussing it with her, I decided to re write it. It's still the same plot and many of the things that happened in the original still happen here. I just decided to expand the story a little, change certain things and so on. So same plot, but still very different. I'm also trying to write stories that are more "mature". That is, darker than the source material (don't get me wrong, I adore Disney movies for their lighthearted stories and fun characters, but while writing stories myself, I prefer drama). I'm also combining my first story (A Cold Winters Night) with it's sequel (florences Heart), so now it has an entirely different title.

One more thing, i know many people don't like it, but this story will feature songs. either self-written or from existing musicals/movies. Because one thing I really was embarassed by when looking over the old story where the really bad songs. So taking already existing ones seems like a better idea. I definitely want this to be a musical, since this is a Disney fanfiction and I just love musicals.

And of course, I need to mention that most of the characters, setting, etc. belong to Disney. the only exception are Florence and the other characters I made up for the story.

„Have you seen the new girl?"

Florence raised her head a little, trying to catch the conversation between her mother and one of her clients, Madame Liliane Delacroix.

"The one who moved here with her father last month?" Isabelle Noel asked, while sewing the pale orange trim to the other woman's red dress. " I think her name was Belle, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Madame Delacroix answered, fixing her hair in front of the mirror. "I pretty, little thing, but…"

"Yes, I've heard. A bit odd."

Florence looked up and for a moment she caught her mother's glimpse.

"Reads all day, has no interest in social gatherings. Her father isn't any better. In fact I'd almost say he's worse. Kooky little inventor." Madame Delacroix chuckled. "I wonder what happened to his wife. I wouldn't be surprised if she packed her things and left."

Florence saw how her mother's eyes turned into a glare.

"I'm sorry. You know, I think it's a shameful thing to do, but with a man like him…"

"Yes, I know." Isabelle interrupted. It was obvious that topic made her uncomfortable. And Florence knew exactly why. A few years ago, her own father had left the family, eloping with a traveling actress, hardly older then Florence was now. After that, her mother fell into despair and the young, blonde girl resented her father for it. And Madame Delacroix knew all of that very well and yet she had the gall to say this! Florence hands clenched into fists. Not only was that snob bad mouthing the two only friends she had in this village, but she also dared to be so disrespectful towards her mother!

"Let's just say, that if I had a daughter like that, well, I'd die of shame and embarrassment. A woman that puts reading before her god given duties…"

Florence shot up in an instant her teeth and fists clenched tightly. But that obnoxious "lady" didn't pay attention to her, only admiring her old, wrinkled face-with way too much cheap make up caked on-in the mirror.

Again Isabelle glanced at her daughter, this time a little more stern. "Yes, what a thought," she added. "Florence, dear. Could you make some tea for Madame Delacroix?"

"Yes, Mother," the young woman mumbled, walking towards the stove to boil some water. She opened the cupboard in which they stored their tea, but Florence had to realize that there were no bags left. "Mother! We're out of tea?"

"Oh, I see." Isabelle said, not looking up from her work. Florence frowned. "Then go to one of our neighbors and buy some."

"Yes, mother." Florence said and opened the little box in which her mother kept all the money they had earned, little as it was.

"And maybe you could also go to the baker and get us a small loaf for dinner."

Florence nodded. She had almost reached the front door when her mother started to have a hard coughing fit. Not the first time in the last few weeks. "Mother…" Florence turned to her.

"Isabelle, are you alright?" Madame Delacroix asked. "Shall Florence go to get the doctor?"

I don't see why you couldn't go!

"No…it's fine. Go, get the bread and tea, dear." Isabelle said. Reluctantly her daughter left the house.

After she got the bread she walked up the street that led to the edge of the village, where her two closest friends lived. She knew for sure that Maurice had a huge collection of different teas from different cultures. Her mother only cared about simple chamomile tea or other known kinds, but Florence enjoyed the taste of new things. For a moment she stopped to admire sunset, when also the first snowflakes of this winter hit the ground.

Suddenly she heard a worrying sound: a loud scream, out of an alley. Scared but curious she quietly approached and took a look behind the corner.

She saw a beat up man surrounded by two other men. One was small and rather unattractive. Florence knew him, his name was Le Fou. The other man she knew as well. How couldn't she? He was the most popular man in town: Gaston.

"This will teach you to not mess with Gaston!" the taller man explained. His buddy let out a spiteful laugh.

"Good one, Gaston!"

The third man, the blacksmith's oldest son Francoise, groaned in pain as he tried to get up.

"So, next time you owe me money you better pay! Got that?"

Francoise nodded weakly.

"And you won't tell anyone about this!"

Quietly Florence sneaked back out of the alley and continued her journey, hoping that no one had seen her. What would a brutal and sadistic man like Gaston do to her?

By now the snow fall had gotten much stronger and finally, she reached Belle's front door.