A/N: ***please read or you'll get confused***
Hey guys, I know I'm in the middle of "Don't forget to write back darling", but I'm experiencing much writers block. I decided to pull this little idea out of the back of my head and just write out a few chapters of this whilst my writers block continues to torture me.

This is a crossover between a Dramione fan-fic and the story of The Phantom of the Opera. technically, the scene is still set in the paris opera house in the early 1880s, Hermione is our lovely Christine (yes, she is going to sing), and Draco is our Phantom. (before I get hate mail, Draco is not hideously dis-figured, he is still beautiful perfection with the face of Tom Felton)

Though our setting is where it is, everything from the original story still stands, Voldemort lost, everyone who died has sadly died, and everyone you recognize has magic. Just imagine things picking up at the end of the last book, but before the "19 years later" part.

Sorry guys, kind of a sticky concept, but I think once I get in the hang of writing it, it might make more sense. At least give it a shot 3 I own nothing you recognize, it all belongs to the queen JK, Andrew Loyd Webber, or LeRoux. Rated M for a reason. Feel free to tell me it just sucks or follow for more cutsie dramione shenanigans...

Hermione

Hermione couldn't take the pressure. This pressure building up inside her, all that she lost during the war, all the people she missed, and some still had the nerve to come up to her and ask to sign newspapers, photographs, asking to take pictures. This pressure inside her after the war slowly turned her into a depressed slob. Seeing how this was going to turn out, Ron left, after a disappointing marriage proposal. Harry tried to help as much as he could, but most of his attempts to bring Hermione out into the world again had turned up fruitless.

Most days Hermione sat about her flat just staring into space. Now, what life was that for a 17 year old girl? In the very depths of her mind, she was asking herself that very question. She knew she should not live her life in regret of those lost, but she never did understand how hard it would be to let go now that she was faced with the challenge.

She would go for days without food, water, or communication to the outside world. They didn't seem like necessities anymore. She didn't even have the strength to open a book to read, which is really scary to Harry, showing him how sick Hermione really was.

There was only one way Harry found that could pull Hermione out from the abyss that she was drowning in, and that was ballet. Harry remembered something Hermione said way back during their first few years together that she loved ballet and had taken many classes. Harry would come over at least twice a week, bringing a home cooked meal and tickets to a show, which Hermione always gratefully accepted. Although she would get dressed up and go out into the world again, she always came back home and returned to her original position.

Draco

Draco and his family left the battle ground together. Knowing they would be hated for their decisions during the war, they decided to start a new life, first by burning Malfoy Manor to the ground, gathering up all the money they have saved from the wizard bank, and left for France. Seeing as the Malfoy line originated from there, they had a spare manor just outside the town of Paris, which was ideally un-inhabited.

"A place to start fresh", his mother kept chanting to herself in glee. She had waited for years to have a fresh start in life, especially during the dark times.

Life at the new manor was hell. His father refused to leave the house in fear that he will be caught and brought to the ministry to stand trial, so he spent his days sulking around the manor, not even acknowledging his only son.

Draco kept waking in the middle of the night with mysterious dreams, dreams of beautiful music, a voice in his mind that he has never heard before. He woke in the middle of the night in cold sweats, shaking, crying that the lovely voice did not caress his unworthy ears anymore.

One night, same as any night, he awakes in the middle of the most fantastic dream of such a voice, but tonight was different. He wakes in his bed covered in sweat and in no way satisfied, but tonight is different. Draco hears others on the other side of his bedroom door...

"This is the third time this week! We need to tell him before it really starts to hurt him..."

"What am I suppose to say sisse? its not like he will be taking it lightly."

"If you don't tell him tomorrow by noon I have no problem telling him how much of a coward his father is..."

Great, Draco thought, just when I thought I could start a normal life I'm going to find out something is wrong with me.

Being done with listening to his parents bickering for the night, he decided to apperate to his favorite place in Paris, the opera house...

Hermione

Her bags were packed, and she had made a decision, she stepped into her floo and landed at Harry's house to tell him the news.

"Mione, its great to see you out and about! Whats up darling?"

"Actually Harry, I just wanted to say goodby before I headed for the train station." Hermione said briskly while going up to Harry to embrace him.

Harry looked slightly un easy, "Ummm, Mione, may I ask where you're going?"

"Oh my, I don't have that much time, but I'll give you the story," Hermione stood in front of Harry with her head held high, " I decided that there is nothing left for me here, and I feel that if I don't get out now I'll just slowly die, so I'm trying to start a new while I'm still young enough to." Harry still looked confused, so she gave in and told him, "Harry, I applied to a scholarship to a ballet school and got accepted, but the closest studio that I can physically learn in is in an opera house in Paris, France. I decided to just move down there and leave all of my bad here."

Harry took a moment, but as he finally understood what she was saying, he smiled and held her close, for probably the last time. "I'm glad you're moving on, and I hope you have fun, you beautiful girl."

Hermione and Harry stood in Harry's kitchen, just holding each other, enjoying the company and silently saying goodbye.

After a minute of blissful silence, Harry spoke, "Do you want me to take you to the train station?" He spoke softly.

"No, but I need to get going." She walked to pick her bags up again. She stepped into the floo and turned to look at Harry's tear stained face, she didn't know he was crying, but she smiled at him for the last time as she spoke her goodbye and flooed to the muggle train station.

Draco

Draco loved the opera house dearly. The Opera Popluare was an opera house in full bloom that showed any and all types of shows on weekends. A friday night performance, a saturday night performance, and a sunday matinée.

Being as it was so late at night, they're were no people in sight. Draco kept to his usual places when going about the theater, his normal seat in box 5 which was never occupied for some odd reason, also the rafters and heavens of the theater. Sometimes Draco would come to a rehearsal day and just watch from the rafters above, staying out of sight, yet knowing everything about everyone. It was like a soap opera that has hooked Draco.

Though watching his daytime drama and the shows from his hiding spot was fun, Draco had made a discovery that he thought was his greatest find ever. Deep in the underbelly of the opera house, their lies a secret chamber, where he guesses they used to store un-used props, but when he first found it it looked as if no one had been down there in years. Draco decided that he might use it to his advantage and cleaned the space to his liking.

Draco had put a full bedroom in his new space; knowing that his parents would be fighting till the early morning, he decided to finally use the king sized bed that took so much time to get down there.

As Draco settled down into the silk sheets he began wondering what his parents had to tell him and why it was so important. His mind drifted and wandered while he wistfully faded back to slumber.