Author's Note: Welcome to myversion of the classic story! Mainly this is my attempt to redefine the main characters. I've always felt Christine needed more spirit and Raoul needed more redeeming qualities than just being cute and rich. How will it end? Shame on you for asking! Hopefully you will have patience with me, as I meander my way through the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Phantom of the Opera, but everybody else is mine, so there!

Garel awoke with a start as the last train lurched into the station. This one was only ten minutes late, a new record he was sure, but he would check later. Right now, there was a possibility of dinner. Even though there were only a few passengers on the trains this late at night he found they were more inclined to give him a break, along with plenty of coins. He sat up slowly as the doors opened and a small group of people lumbered out. There were one or two merchants from the country come to town, a family of sleepy-eyed tourists, and the usual set of dreary bums. He held his hat out hopefully towards the family as the others trudged along, not giving him a second glance. The family eyed him with a look of pity, but they too walked past. Sighing heavily, he returned his weathered cap to his brow, and shoving his precious blanket to the side began to reach for his crutches when he noticed the conductor entering the compartment. He paused to see what was happening, but when the man came out again, he returned to his crutches.

"Oh!" came a muffled cry. He looked up to see a beautiful lady in a snow-white dress standing before him, one pale hand covering her mouth in an expression of horror. Quickly he threw the blanket across his gnarled legs and huddled, ashamed, behind them.

"I'm sorry mademoiselle," he meekly croaked. "Didn't mean fer you to haffta see me. I sure am sorry, yes."

"Oh, please don't apologize," the angelic woman replied, her face lined with worry. "Is there anything I can do for you, a way I can help you?" She took a step towards him, and he shrank further into his blanket. She saw and retreated. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes downcast. "I didn't mean…"

"Nay m'lady, I don' need much as I am, but if ya could spare a coin or two I'd be most thankful," it was the usual words, but now he felt ashamed at having asked anything from this creature of heaven.

"Of course monsieur," he paled, he had not been called monsieur in many a long year. "It is not the amount that I should like to give you but it may help," she whispered as she took out a small leather pouch from her handbag and placed it in his palm. Then without a word she grabbed up her small suitcase and proceeded down the walk towards stairs.

Emptying the pouch he found a fortune compared to his meager hoard, and he turned to thank the woman. He only caught a glimpse of her before she reached the stairs, but he saw enough. Her beautiful gown was a thin cotton shift, its colors and patterns worn away over time. Her suitcase was mud-stained and tattered at the edges. But her face was still that of an angel. He looked again at the pile of coins at his lap, and very quietly began to cry.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Christine's POV

The snow falls softly in the night. During the day the people scurrying about shudder and complain, the drivers shout as the carriages slip across the slick roads and the world seems so full of anger and hate. At night only the destitute and poor are out and now even they have hidden in their squalid dens. I can step into the magical world of frozen falling stars and drift away on the breeze of a forgotten delight. My first sight of the gay city of Paris, and not a soul about. The ever-burning lights illuminating the swirling, empty streets. Nowhere to go and no money to get there with, I debated on which street to take. All around me tall dark buildings stood impassively. A sudden movement of the path ahead of me caught my attention. "Well," I thought to myself as I ran towards the man, "even if it is a murderer, I won't have to worry about being cold."

"Monsieur?" I yelled to the retreating form. "Please, sir, can you help me?"

"What is it?" The man replied after I caught up with him.

"I haven't any money and nowhere to stay."

"Then you are a fool, excuse me."

"I gave all my money to a man at the railway station, and I have only just arrived

here…"

"An even more idiotic thing to do, especially since you just arrived. Where did

you plan to stay? Do you have family here?"

"I haven't any family sir."

"Well then, you have my congratulations for being the most pathetic tourist I've

ever encountered. Your prize, a one-night-only place to stay. Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"To the Opera."

At these words I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Well, what's wrong with you now? I don't intend to stand around here in the

snow all night I'll have you know."

"The Opera sir?"

"Yes, I'm one of the managers there."

Laughter began to bubble inside my head and a small cough escaped my lips in attempt to cover my astonishment.

"At the Opera Populaire, sir?"

"No, the Opera UnPopulaire. Really, you are the most exasperating young

woman I have ever met. Now come along mademoiselle or I shall leave you to your oddities in the street."

I had to nearly run to keep up the man as he puffed his way down the street. At least, I thought wryly, I didn't have too much to carry.

"I shall be leaving you in the care of our ballet mistress, Madam Giry. In the

morning you will leave and I don't care what happens to you after that, no matter how sad your tale of woe. Do you understand?"

" Yes, of course. Thank you so much for helping me."

"Help yourself and first thing tomorrow find a job, rent a room somewhere and

adopt a cat. The city is positively crawling with unwanted cats."

"I try to remember that …"

My voice was lost as we rounded a corner and there before us was the behemoth shadow of the opera house. The snow filled clouds blocked any moonlight that might have lifted its air of gloom but to me it still looked beautiful.

"Oh papa, I'm so close…"

"What was that?" he gruffed, noticing I'd fallen behind again. " Oh in heavens

name, may we please continue? Once we're inside feel free to go as crazy as you like. Its practically a madhouse anyway."

With that, he stormed off towards the entrance. I paused one last second to stare at the hulking façade of my sanctuary, within whose walls I dreamed of performing, before following my guide through the doors and into the halls of music.

A/N: Next chapter we meet Madam Giry, Meg and a brief appearance from everybody's favorite phantom! Please review and tell me what you think!