5. Right From the Moment When I Met Her, Saw Her

Harry, being an intelligent man, took Hermione's advice and owled Fleur and Bill immediately upon seeing Hermione's note. At seeing Hermione's logical suggestion, he smacked himself. Fleur was Ron's sister-in-law; more than likely she'd be willing to help. Tying the note to Pig's leg and pushing him out the window, Harry turned to the next order of business: Belle needed clothes. Belle, though not one to complain, had been wearing the same clothes for the last three days. Despite the cleaning charms Harry had attempted to use on her clothes, Ron had actually begun to avoid her because of the stink emanating from her. Harry thought Ron could be more courteous, but he didn't blame him for wanting to keep his nose intact. Sometimes Harry had to leave the room during their conversations.

Harry's main dilemma had been how to obtain Muggle clothing for Belle. Since she was not a witch, he didn't think it was appropriate to take her to Diagon Alley, but he didn't know any Muggle women who could take her shopping in Muggle London. Harry certainly didn't want to go shopping with her. He would pick out a few dresses today in Diagon Alley – something similar to what Belle wore – and he would wait until Fleur arrived tomorrow to select the rest of Belle's wardrobe and toiletries. Harry quickly said good-bye to Belle and Ron, explaining his purpose for leaving, not that Belle understood him.

"Erm… mate?" Ron asked, "why don't you just borrow some of Hermione's clothes for Belle? Hermione has Muggle clothes, and some of them will probably fit her."

Harry shook his head. "Ron… I dunno if that will work; Hermione's probably placed lots of spells around her flat to protect it, and I have no clue what enchantments she used. Even though she gave me permission, to go there if I needed to, I still don't want to intrude on Hermione's stuff."

Ron shook his head. "She left her flat key on the coffee table. Hermione said the key temporarily undoes the enchantments so that she can enter." At Harry's hesitation, Ron said, "Hermione is probably wearing Belle's clothing, so what's it matter?"

"I dunno." Harry sighed. "Okay, I'll go to Hermione's instead. Do you have the key?" Ron tossed a large silver key to Harry, and the black-haired wizard easily caught it. "I'll be back in an hour. Ginny's stopping by for lunch, so she might be here by then." Harry looked at Ron seriously. "Look after Belle, okay?" With that comment, Harry grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and stepped into the green flames disappearing to Diagon Alley.

Ron shook his head and leaned back on the sofa. Harry thought Belle would disappear if left to her own devices, but he knew better; she was too scared to leave. With a peaceful smile, Ron closed his eyes and began to sleep, snoring lightly.

Meanwhile, in Hermione's apartment, Harry stared at the large armoire full of robes and Muggle clothing. Jeans, tank tops, blouses, neatly lined one side, an organized rainbow of witch robes lined the other. Scratching his neck, Harry grabbed clothing at random until it filled his arms. This would have been simpler if Hermione had already connected her fireplace to the one at Grimmauld Place, but as it was, Harry had to travel all the way to the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace on foot and transfer to his own fireplace. With a grunt, Harry tossed the clothing onto the sofa and conjured up a bag to carry the assortment of robes, jeans, shirts, and dresses.

"When Hermione returns, I am definitely recommending that she connect her fireplace to ours." Using all his muscle, Harry lifted the heavy duffle bag over his shoulder and walked down Diagon Alley, trying not to drop the bag nor injure himself under its weight. That was a difficult challenge.

So focused on his task, Harry forgot his failure to inform Ginny of their new houseguest. When he finally returned to the living room fireplace of 12 Grimmauld Place, he was not expecting to see his girlfriend so enraged.

"Why in the name of Merlin, Harry James Potter, is there a girl I have never seen before in your house?" Ginny asked, glaring, when she saw him return. Two fierce red spots rose to her cheeks. "Ron said that she has been here for three days, so why was I not aware of her presence until two minutes ago?" Folding her arms across her chest, her hard brown eyes demanded an answer. Sheepish, Ron suddenly became very interested in the ceiling.

Harry sent his friend an irritated look before looking again at his girlfriend, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Gin, she came to our world through a mirror. She's a Muggle from France, and we can't just turn her out."

"Why didn't you tell me about her sooner?" Ginny's eyes softened a little, but the hurt and suspicion pierced Harry's heart. Why hadn't he told her sooner? He should have sent her an owl the very first day Belle stayed with them.

Now it was Harry's turn to be sheepish. "Sorry, I forgot. I've been busy trying to help her adjust to life here that everything else has…" The excuse sounded lame to his own ears, but Ginny smiled in understanding and squeezed his hand that didn't hold the duffle bag.

"I'm sorry I overreacted," she murmured. "It's been a rough week with the Harpies; our coach has been cross ever since we lost against Puddlemere United. I'm glad that it's finally our Easter break."

Harry smiled and, bending down, dropped the duffle bag and kissed Ginny gently. "It's okay, Gin. I understand." The two of them stood there, gazing at each other for a couple minutes until Ron cleared his throat loudly, and Ginny and Harry looked up, embarrassed.

"ARE WE HAVING LUNCH OR NOT?" Ron asked, pointedly looking away from the couple. "I don't know about you two, but I'm starving."

Ginny rolled her eyes, still holding Harry's hand. "You're always hungry, Ron." She smiled at Harry, rose onto her toes and pecked him on the lips. Then she and Harry joined Ron in the kitchen, the door swinging behind them.

From her location in the shadows, none of the three had seen Belle watching them. She had seen Harry kiss the girl with red hair, and she had seen him step out of the fireplace after not being there a moment earlier. Something was terribly wrong here in England. In fact, Belle's curiosity overwhelmed her sadness at discovering that Harry was betrothed.

Belle frowned. When she had first met Hermione, the girl had said something about being a witch. Perhaps Hermione had been serious; maybe, just maybe, Harry was a warlock of some kind and appearing out of the fireplace was a spell he had learned.

Walking to the fireplace, Belle examined it closely. Inside, soot covered the stones, but she couldn't find anything unusual in the fireplace itself. Disappointed, Belle exited the fireplace, heading to her room, a small pot of greenish-gold dust attached to the wall near the fireplace caught her eye. She sifted some through her hand, watching it glitter. She tossed some into the fireplace and as the green flames rose to fill the space, Belle's eyes widened.

"I now believe that you are a witch, Hermione," Belle whispered in French as the flames slowly subsided, "because your world does have magic." Her eyes shining, Belle walked to the kitchen to join the others, glad that Hermione had agreed to let her stay in England for a month.

HP*BATB*HP*BATB

"Bonjour, Hermione," a deep voice boomed as the stranger slipped an arm around her slim frame. "We meet again." Annoyed, Hermione closed her eyes, then twisted around to see Gaston standing behind her. A shiver of disgust ran through her, and she slid from underneath the brute's arm. Oh, how she detested him.

"How do you know my name?" Hermione was positive she hadn't told him when they had first met yesterday.

"Everyone knows your name." Gaston shrugged. "You are the prettiest girl in town, next to Belle." He smiled proudly, his pointed white teeth contrasted against his tanned skin. "Just like I'm the handsomest man in town." He puffed out his chest, towering over Hermione's five feet eight inches even more.

Hermione closed her mouth so as not to gag. "Well, Monsieur Gaston, I must be going. I have errands to run." She made a motion to leave, but Gaston grabbed her arm forcefully. Hermione pursed her lips, and her prick of irritation and disgust turned to anger. Merlin's beard, he was ill-mannered.

"When will Belle return?"

Hermione glared at the idiot. "I don't know. Now please let me go, monsieur." Yanking her arm away from him, Hermione walked away as quickly as she could to finish her errands. Behind her, three blondes tutted in disapproval.

"Is she crazy?" the one wearing green asked. "Gaston held her… why did she want to leave?"

"I don't know, Celestine," the one in yellow said as she twirled a golden curl, "but she's just like Belle."

The third one, wearing a low-cut red dress paid no attention to the conversation. "Ooh, look girls… here comes Gaston!" The other two stopped talking, and Celestine pushed up her breasts so that she had more cleavage showing above her neckline. Gaston, with his sapphire eyes narrowed, relaxed the moment he saw the triplets.

"Bonjour, Cerise, Celine, Celestine." Gaston surveyed them head-to-toe and smirked. "How are you ladies today?"

"Tres bien, Gaston," the three girls giggled. With a coy smile, Cerise leaned over. Gaston stared at her hungrily. He sidled up to the three girls and wrapped a thick arm around Cerise, in the red, and Celine, in the yellow. Celestine pouted until Gaston invited her to sit on his lap.

"Gaston," Celine asked, still twirling her curl, "why will you propose to Belle? Don't you like me?" She stuck out a trembling lower lip. "I'd make a good wife."

"Me too," Cerise said as she pushed her body against Gaston's chest. "I'd make a wonderful wife."

"So would I," interjected Celestine, "I'd make an excellent wife." Celestine turned and nuzzled into Gaston's chest. He was so massive, so majestic. "I'd make a better wife than Belle or that strange Hermione girl."

"Me too!" shouted the other two girls as they clung to Gaston like parasites.

Gaston smiled and shook his head. What silly girls, of course they wouldn't understand his logic. If he married Cerise, two other men would have identical women. The same went if he married Celine or Celestine – they weren't special or original. And Gaston was the most extraordinary man in town, he needed to have a unique wife. Gaston thought for a moment, and his black eyebrows knitted together. Truth be told, Belle wasn't the most special girl in town… the most beautiful, yes… but there was someone else now who was more original, more alluring… more mysterious.

"Girls, I have an announcement to make," Gaston said loudly, and the triplets looked at him with hopeful brown eyes. Could their statements have made that much of an impact on him? Had he changed his mind about proposing to Belle?

"I will not ask Belle to marry me."

Immediately, the girls squealed and began jumping up and down. Even Celestine bounced up and down from her spot on Gaston's lap. He had taken their advice; he would marry one of them.

"Instead," Gaston continued loudly, a steely look of resolve and pride on his face, "I will ask the new girl, Belle's cousin Hermione, to marry me instead." The triplets gasped, and Celine covered her mouth in shock. Cerise even began to cry.

"Gaston," Celestine asked, "Why are you doing this to us?" She pouted and pulled an embroidered handkerchief from between her breasts, dabbing at her eyes. "We want to marry you." At this all three girls began to weep uncontrollably.

"Girls… just because I'll be married doesn't mean I can't have fun every once in a while," Gaston said, crushing Cerise and Celine to him. His eyes lit up wickedly. "We'll still have our old romps like always."

"Really?" the girls asked, hopeful looks again on their faces.

"Of course," Gaston assured them, grinning broadly. "Marriage won't change our relationship one bit." In the distance, he heard the bell of the bookshop and saw Hermione exit the store. Pushing the blondes away from him, he stood up, and puffed out his chest.

"I'll see you soon, ladies," Gaston said as he strutted away, off to propose to the 'new girl' in town. He grinned, a smug look on his face. Hermione would swoon and say 'yes' and his life would be complete with many hunting hounds and male children. Lifting the corners of his mouth in a smirk, Gaston strolled after his bride-to-be.

A/N: Cerise means 'cherry' - That's why she's in the red. REVIEW! :)