3. A Whole New World

The next morning, Belle woke up to bright sunshine filtering in through the window. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and when she did, she quelled her hopeful smile; she was not in Molyneux, her hometown, but rather, she was in this large, dank, grey house so at odds with the cottage she shared with her father. Harry had been kind to allow her to stay here, she knew, and she appreciated his generosity – she told him 'merci' many times the previous evening, but she didn't feel quite comfortable in this strange land.

It served her right for wanting an adventure, Belle thought solemnly. If she had only appreciated the comfortable, if provincial, life she had with her father in France, maybe this wouldn't have happened. She would be reading a new fairytale, preparing for her daily visit to the market and the bookseller's shop, telling her father about her book, listening to him talk about his inventions, and she would run into Gaston. Revolted, Belle made a face, almost gagging at the thought of the brutish man. He was one person she did not miss in the slightest.

Gaston Veneur, a popular young hunter in Molyneux, had been pursuing Belle for the last several months. In fact, shortly after she and her father had moved to town nearly a year ago, he began demanding that she come see his trophies with him, and he told her that she shouldn't read since it filled her head with crazy ideas. Belle coolly evaded his advances, subtly calling him moronic, brutish, and old-fashioned on several occasions. Unfortunately, Gaston was too stupid and pig-headed to understand her hints, and his obsession with Belle only continued to escalate. Gaston still chased Belle around town; hinting that he would propose soon. If Belle had avoided that catastrophe by coming through the mirror, then her stay was more than well spent, she decided.

Pushing thoughts of Gaston out of her head, Belle stretched and sat up. Harry didn't own any women's nightclothes, unfortunately for Belle, so she had simply slept in her underwear. Pulling on her blue dress again, Belle examined her hair with an exasperated sigh. She had no brush for it, so she didn't want to put it back into a ponytail this morning. Quirking her bright pink lips to the side, Belle fluffed her wavy brown hair and stepped out of her room to greet her hosts.

"Bonjour, 'Arry," Belle greeted with a wave. Harry smiled tiredly, but his emerald green eyes lit up, and their beauty stunned Belle. She felt slight warmth fill her, and she blushed imperceptibly. He was so handsome, she thought.

"Hello, Belle." He paused awkwardly, before continuing slowly. "Did you sleep well?" He rested the side of his head against his hands. "I'm sorry that I don't speak French," he mumbled, but Belle heard, and oddly understood what he said.

"Eez… good," she replied to his statement with a smile. "J'ai besoin d'apprendre plus d'anglais de toute façon." Belle noticed Harry's look of confusion, so she tried again. The language barrier was becoming quite the problem it seemed. "Je," Belle pointed to herself, "apprendre l'anglais de votre part." She pointed to Harry, and said everything slowly.

"You want to learn English?" he asked after spending a moment with his brow furrowed in concentration. "L'anglais… is that English?" He mumbled a few things to himself before speaking more with Belle. "Erm… if you want to learn 'l'anglais,' I will teach you." Belle didn't appear to understand, so he tried again, vainly racking his brain for all the French he knew. "I teach you l'anglais, oui?" Harry pointed to himself, and then to Belle; pointing would be a huge part of their communication, he realized.

With a large grin, Belle replied, "Oui. Merci, Monsieur 'Arry."

"Erm, you're welcome, Belle." Harry glanced at a nearby clock. "Bloody hell… I have to get ready for work, Belle, or I'll be late. Ron isn't scheduled at the Auror office, and I reckon George can manage at the joke shop without him for a day, so he can entertain you." Apologetically, he waved and dashed up the stairs to finish his morning routine.

Having nothing to do, Belle sat down on a nearby sofa and began to think. She liked it here, and while she missed her papa, she knew Hermione would keep him company while she was gone. It was far more interesting here than it was in Molyneux – she would learn a new language, experience a new culture, and then there was Harry. Belle smiled widely, thinking of him. Already she could see that he was generous and kind, and she liked that about him. He was far better than Gaston at any rate, Belle decided, wrinkling her nose with disgust.

Belle also realized that Hermione was bound to find a way to travel back through the mirror, and she didn't want to leave yet, but she didn't want her Papa to be alone. Perhaps she could convince Hermione to stay in Molyneux for a while; Belle would attach a note to the mirror so that Hermione could read it, and maybe Hermione would be willing to stay on the other side of the mirror for a few weeks. She jumped up from the sofa and began her search for paper and a pen. In a bedroom, she found a piece of parchment, a quill, and even some sticky substance on a desk. Quickly, she wrote her message and attached it to the glass of the mirror upstairs (after a couple of attempts fumbling with the adhesive), hoping Hermione would find the note and cooperate.

As she skipped downstairs to return the materials she found, she bumped into a tall man. She recognized him from the evening before, and he began to speak rapidly in English. Of course, Belle didn't understand a word that he said, so she simply shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. After a few minutes, the red-haired man ran a large hand through his flaming hair, and Belle could tell he was frustrated.

"Je suis désolé," Belle told him, placing a comforting hand on his arm, "Je ne parle pas l'anglais." She began walking downstairs to return the items when she felt a strong pull on her wrist.

"Harry told me to look after you. Where I go, you go," Ron said stubbornly. "I need to get something from the attic." Belle stared at him blankly, and attempted to go down the stairs, but again, the man was pulling on her wrist. With a sigh, and a withering look, she obliged him and followed him to the attic. In fact, she followed him around all morning, and it was only after an hour or two that she was finally able to return the writing materials. She discovered the man's name was Ronald Weasley, called Ron, and he was Harry's best friend. Once he had realized that Belle didn't understand him when he talked fast, he began shouting painfully slow. Belle found him annoying and was glad when he finally let her out of his sight.

"Mon dieu! Ce garçon sera la mort de moi, car il est si odieux." Belle was in the restroom, examining her appearance. Lines graced her forehead from all the incredulous looks she had given Ron earlier that morning, and she put her face in her hands and shook her head in exasperation. She much preferred Harry to Ron, she decided. Harry was handsome, generous, kind, and patient, while Ron was irritating, stupid, presumptuous, and ill mannered. In fact, Ron reminded her so much of Gaston, though truth be told, Belle could stand Ron more than she could Gaston. At least Ron didn't take away her book when Belle had sat down to read, and he wasn't trying to win her over, so his idiocy was unintentional and harmless. At these thoughts of Gaston, Belle's mouth quirked up in a wry smile; she wondered how Hermione fared in Molyneux with the hunter.

FRENCH:

J'ai besoin d'apprendre plus d'anglais de toute façon = I need to learn more English anyway.

Je apprendre l'anglais de votre part = I will learn English from you.

Je suis désolé, Je ne parle pas l'anglais = I'm sorry, I don't speak English.

Mon dieu! Ce garçon sera la mort de moi, car il est si odieux* = My goodness! This boy will be the death of me, for he is so annoying.

*Google said it was heinous. Either way, I guess. :)

BY THE WAY... REVIEWS WOULD MAKE ME VERY HAPPY!