207Disclaimer: I will only say this once – I hope that suffices. I do not own Harry Potter or Beauty and the Beast; they belong to J.K. Rowling and Disney respectively. I am not making any profit off this story nor do I intend to infringe upon any copyrights. Also, this fan-fiction is inspired by Lost in Disney written by CardCaptorSakura16.
Summary: Voldemort is gone and life has returned to normal, until one day, Hermione Granger discovers a magical mirror that transports her into eighteenth century France. Through the same mirror, Belle travels to modern-day England, to discover that magic really does exist. As Hermione deals with an undesirable proposal, and an even more undesirable suitor, she reveals to the Muggle community that she is a witch and flees to a dark castle where she encounters an enchantment so powerful that even she, Hermione Granger, may not be able to find the counter-spell. Meanwhile in England, Belle begins to fall in love, and she must decide between homeland and love, magic and normalcy, excitement and the mundane.
1. Mirror, Mirror on the Wall
Hermione sighed. Once again, Harry and Ron were bickering and she did not have the patience to listen to their argument. Although they had defeated Lord Voldemort nearly two years ago, and the wizarding world of England had more or less returned to normal, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley still had occasional spats. Ron was moving in with Harry at 12 Grimmauld Place, the vacant house of Harry's godfather, and they were debating where the Chudley Cannons poster Ron had brought from The Burrow should go. Naturally, Ron wanted the poster right at the entrance to the hall, but Harry wanted it located in Ron's bedroom… and on the walls with a Muggle substance called tape rather than having Ron use a Permanent Sticking Charm. Ron was confused more than outraged, but since he didn't understand what Harry wanted, Harry had lost his temper and now the two were in an arguing match loud enough for all of London to hear. Hermione shook her head in exasperation as the disagreement increased in pitch and volume, and in her frustration, she stormed upstairs.
Muttering to herself, Hermione continued up the grey stairs until the argument faded into a muffled sound. Hermione sighed, pleased with herself at distancing herself from the noise (and saving herself a headache in the process) and paused at the landing. She hadn't paid attention to where she was going, and now, she realized, she was at a part of the house she had never seen before. Although Ron, Harry, and she had all stayed here during what was supposed to be their final year at Hogwarts and during the days of the Order of the Phoenix, they had never explored much of the upper stories of the decrepit house. A tad uneasy but very curious, Hermione turned to the right where a full-length mirror stood against the wall. She narrowed her eyes slightly as she inspected the mirror, covered with a thick film of dust. Apparently, it had gone unnoticed for many years, even decades.
"Well, I might as well help Harry out and clean the mirror off," she muttered. The young witch pressed her lips together, tore a large strip of cloth off her old work robe, and began rubbing the oval face of the mirror. Once she had dusted the entire thing off, she tilted her head to the side in surprise. Although Hermione was accustomed to magic, she hadn't expected the mirror to reflect not the grey-blue interior of 12 Grimmauld Place, but instead, a cheery warm brown room. As she looked closer, she realized her reflection was nowhere in sight either.
"How very curious," Hermione murmured in awe as she poked at the mirror with her wand and examined it. Belatedly, Hermione realized she could have cast a cleaning charm on the mirror and saved herself some work. Well, Hermione thought wryly, some Muggle habits really do die hard. As she continued to examine the mirror and tested spells on it, a flash of movement crossed the mirror. Startled, Hermione looked forward and saw a young girl in a blue dress, about her age, enter the room and place a stack of books on the bed. From the back, she resembled Hermione to a large degree: they were the same height and both had long, wavy brown hair, though Hermione's appeared bushier. However, Hermione didn't have much time to consider the oddity of their physical similarity, for just then, the girl turned and faced the mirror and appeared to gasp. The girl made no sound, or perhaps the mirror couldn't relay sound, but Hermione understood the girl's troubled look, and she was fairly certain her own countenance conveyed a similar expression.
The girl in the mirror frowned and began tapping at the mirror, and it seemed solid to her touch. The lips of the girl in the blue dress began moving quickly and Hermione leaned close to the mirror to hear what she said. The surface of the glass appeared to be swirling fluidly, and it reminded Hermione of water. Approaching the glass with her ear, she lost her balance and tumbled through the frame.
After a minute of shock, Hermione opened her eyes and looked around. She was sitting on a light wooden floor across the room from a small, tidy bed and round window. Blinking in the sunlight, Hermione saw that the girl in the blue dress was kneeling over her, examining her with a puzzled and slightly terrified expression.
"Who are you?" the girl asked, and it took Hermione a moment to realize the stranger was speaking in French. Thanks to her family's summer holidays spent in France, Hermione was proficient in the language, if a trifle rusty.
"Je m'appelle Hermione," the girl replied. "Excusez-moi, but do you speak English?"
The girl shook her head. "Non, I only speak a little. I assume then, that you're English, oui?"
Hermione nodded as she dusted herself off. "Oui. That's okay though; we can speak in French." She smiled, stood up, and extended her hand to the French woman. "It's nice to meet you… Mademoiselle…"
"Belle," the young woman supplied as she shook Hermione's hand. "To be honest, I've never had more of a shock than seeing you at the mirror. As long as I can remember, I've only faintly seen my reflection, and usually I saw a wall of dark grey. I never expected to see someone else on the other side."
Hermione chuckled. "Our side of the mirror was coated in a thick layer of dust – that's probably why you couldn't see anything." Hermione paused a moment and her eyebrows knitted together. "I wonder why you didn't come through the mirror when you were tapping the glass if I fell right through."
Shrugging, Belle answered, "I don't really know, but somehow you managed to come through the glass, almost by magic or something." She pulled at her hair, thinking in depth about the situation.
Hermione smirked at Belle. "Well," she said casually, "I am a witch." Her eyes glittered with mirth; the situation was rather humorous.
Belle's eyes widened, mistaking the amusement in Hermione's eyes for a sinister danger, and she retreated backwards in fright. "You… you're a witch?" she asked nervously. Images of cackling old ladies with warts selling herbs filled her imagination. At Hermione's sharp nod, Belle gasped and stumbled backwards again – this time right through the frame of the mirror. After she fell through the glass, Belle jumped up and pushed hard against the glass, trying to go through, but the glass remained solid at her touch. Alone in a strange world and more than a little confused, Belle sat down on the grey wooden floor, tears trailing down her cheeks.
After nearly an hour into their argument, Ron and Harry noticed Hermione's absence. At first, they paid it no mind; she probably went into a spare room to read, but when she didn't storm down and yell at them to shut up after thirty more minutes of yelling, Harry and Ron grew concerned. Normally, Harry would ask Kreacher to find Hermione, but the elf was away running errands, so the two boys decided to put their discussion aside – temporarily – and search the old house for their friend before the light filtering in through the windows vanished.
Harry and Ron soon realized that the house was much larger than either of them had thought. They spent over an hour searching the dwelling before they stood atop a three-story staircase, staring at a young woman in a blue dress. In the dim light, Harry mistook the woman for Hermione and called out to her. The girl turned suddenly, her eyes wide, and she backed up against the wall, clutching her knees.
"Mate, that's not Hermione," Ron whispered into Harry's ear.
"I already figured that out, thanks," Harry muttered. He clutched his wand instinctively and climbed the last two steps before approaching the strange girl.
"It's all right," Harry said, in a gentler voice. "I'm not going to harm you; I just want to know what you're doing in my house." The girl's hazel eyes grew wider, and Harry saw they were brimming with tears. He sighed, rubbed the back of his neck in frustration and tried again.
"Hello, I'm Harry… and this is Ron. Who are you and what are you doing here?" he asked.
The girl tilted her head to the side, and Harry finally realized that she didn't comprehend what he was saying. He cursed silently and gave Ron a pleading look. "I don't think she understands me. What do we do now?"
Ron thought for a moment, tapping his chin. "I dunno, Harry, but she might know where Hermione is, so we can't turn her out. Maybe she can stay in a guest room for now." Harry and Ron slept in a room on the second floor; besides the rooms that belonged to Regulus and Sirius on the fourth floor, 12 Grimmauld Place had several other bedrooms.
His best mate had a point, so Harry nodded grimly. "She'll have to, I guess. I'm really worried about Hermione though – who knows what could have happened to her?"
"Hermione?" the girl asked. Both Harry and Ron looked at the girl, who had now stood up. "Hermione a traversé le miroir." She pointed to the mirror, and Harry and Ron stared at each other with confused expressions.
"What'd she say, mate?"
"Dunno," Harry replied, scratching the back of his neck. Glancing at the girl, he said to Ron, "Let's take her downstairs. She'll be more comfortable there." In agreement, the two approached the visitor a little more closely. Then, pointing down the stairs, the two boys began walking, and Harry beckoned the girl to follow. Hesitantly, she began walking towards the top of the staircase.
"Qu'en est-il Hermione?" the girl asked Harry, pointing again towards the mirror. A bewildered expression crossed the wizard's face, and his neck was now scarlet from where he had rubbed it. Ron continued downstairs, oblivious to the change in Harry's movement. A dim light flashed in the back of his memory, and he remembered Hermione speaking similar words after her family's trip to… France. A look of understanding and relief crossed his face, and he tried out one of the few French words he knew.
"Erm… bonjour?"
The girl turned her head immediately towards him, and a look of recognition crossed her face. She smiled and replied, "'Ello, monsieur."
Harry grinned in response, glad to have some understanding with the girl. "I'm Harry." He extended his hand towards the girl, and she stared at it for a moment.
"And I eez Belle," she answered with a speck of hesitation in her thick French accent. She took Harry's hand and shook it, as English custom dictated.
"Well, Belle," Harry said, "Let's go downstairs and eat." He pointed down the stairs and mimed shoveling food into his mouth. He thought a moment, "Uh, oui?"
Belle nodded in understanding, her brunette ponytail bobbing up and down as she said, "Oui, monsieur. We… eet?" she asked, waiting for his affirmation that these were the right words.
He smiled and said, "Yes, we eat." Then gesturing for Belle to go down the large flight of stairs, he followed behind her, a grin of pride numbing the edges of his concern for Hermione. Once the girl knew more English, she would be able to tell them what had happened to their friend, but for now, he would make sure that she was comfortable at 12 Grimmauld Place and she would be their guest.
FRENCH:
Hermione a traversé le miroir = Hermione went through the mirror
Qu'en est-il Hermione? = What about Hermione?
Please note that these are all from Google translator. If I've made in error in translation, please let me know. Thanks. :)