4. Such a Tall, Dark, Strong, and Handsome Brute

Hermione groaned as sunlight filtered through the round window, waking her up. Memory of the previous day came flooding back to her, and she rolled over on to her side and stared around the room. With a sigh, she pulled herself out of bed, tucked in the covers neatly, and dressed for the day. She chose a crimson dress identical to the one Belle had worn the other day and tied a matching bow in her hair. Then she headed outdoors to do Belle's morning chores.

After she had fed the chickens, Philippe, and Maurice, Hermione came back up to the bedroom to grab her wand. As she did so, she noticed a small piece of paper attached to the oval mirror she had come through yesterday. Frowning, she walked over to read the note. Translated, it said:

Dear Hermione,

I know you want to come home soon, and that you will figure a way to come back through the mirror. I beg of you, please stay in Molyneux for a few weeks; I would like to stay in your England for a while since I may never have the opportunity to return, but I do not want to leave my father alone. If you could please stay with him, I would appreciate it.

-Belle

Sighing, Hermione shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. It was true, Hermione wanted to go back to England badly. She had work to do for S.P.E.W. – the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare – but the Ministry of Magic wasn't discussing any important legislature that involved the rights of magical creatures in the next few weeks, so she didn't need to lobby the Ministry right now. Besides, Ron had made some slightly insulting comments toward Hermione the past couple days, and she had had enough of him for a while. If Belle wanted to stay in England for a few weeks, Hermione didn't really have a problem obliging her request. She could brush up on her French before returning to London, and perhaps her experiences here would give her inspiration for another essay. In addition to working for the rights of magical creatures, Hermione had devoted herself to educating all people – even house-elves and centaurs – usually in the form of essays on different topics. Perhaps she could write about eighteenth-century France next, she thought brightly.

With a clearer perspective on her situation, Hermione scavenged for a spare bit of parchment, and with a quill she found in her robes, wrote a reply to Belle's note in her neat cursive.

Dear Belle,

If you wish to stay in England, that is fine with me, and I will stay here in France to look after your father. I'd like to learn more about your culture as well, so if you wish to stay in England for a month, that works well with me. However, please show this note to Harry so that he knows I am safe. He can write to my parents so that they know where I am.

-Hermione

Beneath her message to Belle, Hermione wrote a brief letter to Harry and Ron in English explaining where she was and how she had traveled through the mirror. Then she instructed Harry (because he was the less forgetful and more responsible) to purchase a French-English dictionary, basic French/English textbooks, and appropriate female clothing and toiletries, giving him permission to go to her flat and borrow anything that Belle might need. Hermione also recommended that he contact Bill and Fleur. Fleur could instruct you in French, she wrote, or she could act as a translator between you and Belle. If he encountered problems obtaining any of the items, he should owl her parents, and they would send him the appropriate materials.

Then, with a simple charm Hermione had created, she attached the parchment to the mirror, with the message facing in. She put away the extra writing materials, and proceeded to dress for the day. She took off her work clothes, and she put on the forest-green dress again. She tied her hair up with the ribbon from yesterday, slid into a simple pair of black flats, and with money Maurice gave her, she headed to town to purchase groceries and return Belle's books.

With a basket loped over her arm carrying the coins and books, Hermione examined her surrounding without worrying about carrying several items. She crossed the small bridge, and gaped as she stared at the town, for it reminded her so much of Diagon Alley. True, in Diagon Alley Hermione would have seen owls, lizards, wands, broomsticks, and people wearing robes, but the hustle and bustle of the towns was the same, and for the first time since arriving, Hermione felt at home, especially since that now in England she rented a flat above Madame Malkin's robe shop in Diagon Alley.

As she continued into town purchasing groceries and examining dry goods, Hermione heard hushed French whispers and tried to understand what the town gossips said.

"My, she looks so much like Belle…"

"… what god-awful hair…"

"Too tall and willowy… Belle is so much prettier…"

"Well, I hear that in Paris, being thin is all the rage right now…"

"… never seen her here before…"

The whispers continued until, with a roll of her eyes, Hermione entered the bookseller's shop and the door clattered behind her loudly. With a heavy sigh, Hermione gazed around and saw books from ceiling to floor. While the collection wasn't nearly as impressive as her own private library, Hermione felt comfort at seeing and smelling the new books inked on cream parchment. In such a state of peace, it took her a moment before she realized that an elderly gentleman with spectacles perched on the end of his nose was calling to her.

"Excusez-moi, mademoiselle, but I've never seen you here before. What is your name?" The kindly old bookseller smiled at her warmly, and Hermione smiled back.

"Je m'appelle Hermione. I'm Belle's cousin, and I'm staying with my uncle Maurice for a while." Hermione fiddled with her books and slowly pulled them out of the basket, waiting for the man's reply.

"Oh, I see. Belle must be out of town then, if you're running her errands?"

Hermione nodded. "Oui. Belle is visiting some friends near Paris. She left late last night, I believe."

His mouth quirked in a frown, the bookseller stroked his chin. "I notice you have an accent, mademoiselle, though you speak well. Where are you from?"

Hermione glowed at the praise and replied, "I am from London. That is where my family lives, though Belle's mother and my mother, her sister, were originally from France. That's why I have an English accent."

Any trace of suspicion faded from the bookseller's eyes, and he accepted the books with a warm 'thanks'. "Will you be borrowing more?" he asked her, and she politely declined, saying that she had not yet read the books that Belle owned. Upon further persuasion, Hermione borrowed a book – written in English – that contained fairytales. With a smile pasted on her face, she then bid the bookseller adieu and left the shop, only to bump into a massive object.

"Ah, Belle," the man said, "I knew it was only a matter of time before you came running into my arms." The man gripped Hermione's arms, and she tried to wrestle herself away. He was so strong that after a few seconds, Hermione gave up, and tilted her face up so that she could see her captor.

He was tall and handsome, but an arrogant smirk marred his tan complexion. He had gathered his long black hair into a ponytail, much to Hermione's disdain, and his pale blue eyes radiated self-confidence – over-confidence in Hermione's opinion.

"You're not Belle," the man said. He let go of Hermione at once and stared at her with accusing eyes. "Who are you, and where is Belle?"

Ruffled from being held so tightly and spoken to so rudely, Hermione brushed herself off and in a lofty tone replied, "I am someone who does not grab random strangers and demand things of them." She put her nose in the air and stalked off, only to have the man grab her wrist a few seconds later. Fuming, Hermione turned to face him and crossed her arms against her chest.

"Look, Belle is my fiancée," the man said in hushed tones, bending over so that his lips were next to Hermione's ear. "She's the only one that ever goes to the bookshop." The man shivered with disgust. "I need to know where she is… if she's not at the bookshop, is she at home?"

"How would you expect me to know?" Hermione asked coolly, backing away from the brutish man in front of her. "And why would I inform you anyway? You haven't even been so courteous as to tell me your name."

"I'm Gaston." He waited in silence. "Well, aren't you going to tell me where she is? You're wearing one of her dresses – you must know Belle!" Hermione looked down at the forest-green dress. His logic made sense; Hermione had to grant him that.

With a sigh, Hermione began to tell Gaston, Belle's fiancée, the story she and Maurice had invented. She told him how late last night, Belle had ridden off to a small town outside of Paris with a traveler passing through Molyneux. There, she would visit some old friends for a few weeks before returning. Hermione then introduced herself as Belle's first cousin from London, England. At this point, Gaston had stopped listening.

"So, you're saying that Belle won't return for a few weeks? How am I supposed to propose to her if she's not here?" he bellowed in exasperation, his tan face turning ruddy from anger. Confused, Hermione turned towards him again.

"Excusez-moi, Monsieur Gaston, but you said that Belle was your fiancée… how could she be your intended bride if you hadn't asked her to marry you yet?" A chill entered Hermione's voice, and her brown eyes lost any little warmth they had possessed earlier. Obviously this man had lied to her.

"Well, that's easy. No one says 'no' to Gaston – she wasn't going to refuse me!" Gaston laughed as though this were impossible. "Once I decided to make her my bride, I knew that she would be my bride… She'll be so lucky to have me as a husband." Fists on his hips, Gaston stood tall, preening as he explained this. Hermione tried hard not to show how revolting she thought the situation was.

"Imagine that," she muttered sarcastically as she gave the tan hunter a withering look. "Well, excusez-moi… monsieur… but I need to be going." Then as quickly as she could, Hermione left his presence, after ensuring her purchases were safely in hand, and dashed back to the safety of Belle's cottage.

After greeting Maurice and preparing dinner, Hermione thought about her fight with Ron, and she compared the disagreement to meeting Gaston. There existed no doubt in her mind that Ron was many times smarter and a better person, and with a pang, Hermione began to miss him a little. As she thought about it some more, Hermione realized that she knew the real reason that Belle wanted some time away from Molyneux – and she suspected it had to do with a tall, dark, strong and handsome brute.

A/N: Please review! Thanks, guys! :)