(A/N: Thank you to everyone who's reading! If you want to, leave a review so I know how I'm doing! It's going to start picking up from here, so I hope everyone stays tuned in for what comes next!)

That night, Christine had to tell Raoul about Erik. There wasn't much to tell – but Raoul still got very angry and hugged Christine tightly. With tears in her eyes, Christine whispered, "You won't leave, will you?"

"Leave?" Raoul said in confusion. "Why would I leave when you need me the most? I'm almost tempted to have you move in with me so I can be with you at all times!"

"Frederick left," Christine said quietly.

"I'm not Frederick," Raoul replied immediately. "He clearly didn't care about you enough. Christine, I don't care how many death threats this Erik sends me. I'm not leaving my little Lotte, especially not now."

Christine smiled. "I knew I was right not to give up on you," she commented. "But Raoul, I do have to warn you – these threats that Erik sends, they're not normal."

"I hardly expect death threats would be normal," Raoul said, frowning at Christine. "I'm prepared, Chris."

"I mean, when Fred got them," Christine continued, "they were really scary. One time there was a human skull delivered to his doorstep with a picture of the two of us, only there were red cross marks over his eyes like he was dead. And then one time there was a clipping of an obituary in the paper of an eighty-seven-year-old man named Frederick, and in red letters there was a note that said 'YOU NEXT'."

Raoul started to laugh. "Don't laugh!" Christine exclaimed in fright. "This is serious, Raoul!"

"I know," Raoul said, his laughter subsiding slightly. "But the threats you're describing seem so childish. You can get a human skull anywhere around Halloween time. Every store sells red pens. And how much effort does it take to find a dude named Frederick who died? It all seems a bit immature, if you ask me. I'm taking the threat of this guy stalking you seriously, Christine, I really am. But the threats that will in all probability be levied against me seem silly."

"You're – you're not scared?" Christine stammered.

"Not at all," Raoul said confidently. "If that's the best this Erik fellow can do, then I'm not scared one bit. I'm more worried about you, Christine."

"I don't think Erik wants to hurt me, though," Christine mused. "I'm not sure what he wants. But I don't think he'd hurt me – not in the way he might hurt you. And besides, when you say that his threats seem childish, that almost makes him more… I don't know… likeable. Like he's a child with a crush who doesn't want anyone else to talk to the girl he likes."

"Christine," Raoul said carefully, "I don't want to burst your bubble, but I don't think a man who stalks a young teenage girl for two years and sends death threats to her boyfriends is completely harmless. You have to be careful, even if he seems nice."

She sighed. "I'll be careful, Raoul," she said. "I promise."

Raoul didn't seem quite reassured, though.

The rest of Raoul's family took the train back home to London that night, but Raoul stayed with Christine. He was able to walk freely into her dorm despite the 'no boys' rule because he looked enough like a girl that even Joseph Buquet would flirt with him. The only thing he was told to do was to sign in as a guest – so he put down his sister's name and texted his sister to warn her, should she get any calls. (Victoire just responded with a winky face, which made Raoul blush for a solid ten minutes.) Meg told Christine that she could bunk in with Jammes or Carly, but Christine promised Meg that she wouldn't make Meg feel like a third wheel in her own bedroom.

Meg finally did decide to stay. Her reasoning for this was simple: "I'm still green and I can't get this damn paint off, so I'd rather not stain someone else's pillow."

"You should have just gone for Glinda," Christine said as she and Meg left the bathroom in pyjamas (having changed in the bathroom, since Raoul was there). "At least sparkles come off eventually."

"Yeah, well," Meg said irritably, her black hair soaking wet but her normally peach skin still slightly green, "I can't sing as high as Glinda can. And besides, Glinda doesn't have 'Defying Gravity'."

"She does a bit," Christine pointed out.

"Not the good part," Meg countered. "Besides, this paint has to come off eventually." But she didn't sound too convinced. "I mean, Idina Menzel looks normal now, and she had to paint this stuff on eight times a week."

"Hey, at least you didn't have to dye your hair on top of making yourself green," Christine said optimistically. "Then you really would have to live with Elphaba for a while."

"True," Meg agreed. "But still – hearing about Raoul all these years, and the first time I meet him, I'm green."

"I'm sure he won't hold it against you," Christine laughed.

They walked into their room, where Raoul was sitting on Christine's beanbag chair. "Hey," he said cheerfully, looking up from his phone. "The first death threat came through."

"I – sorry, what?" Christine said, taken aback.

Raoul looked at her very pleasantly. "Right here," he said, holding up a picture. Christine walked up to him and took the picture. It was along the same lines as the things that had been sent to Frederick: a picture of Raoul kissing Christine with his face marked out in red ink.

Christine's heart began to sink. "They're only going to get worse," she said pessimistically, looking at Raoul. "I swear, I didn't want this to happen. I don't blame you if you leave, Raoul. I hardly think I'm worth your life."

"Look at me, Christine," Raoul laughed. "Do I look scared? This is child's play. I think this guy doesn't have the guts to kill anyone so he just wants to frighten me away through empty threats." He stood up to plant a kiss on Christine's forehead. "And I do happen to think you're worth my life," he added in a whisper.

Meg snatched the picture from Christine's hands. "There's nothing written on it besides – wait, hang on, there's a signature." She squinted at the signature on the back of the picture. "It says 'Angel of Music'." Meg looked up, her expression more confused than anything. "What does that mean?"

"Angel of Music?" Christine demanded, snatching the picture back from Meg. She studied the signature at the back of the picture. Sure enough, in red ink, was 'Angel of Music'. Her heart skipped a beat. How did he know? And if he was an angel sent by her father, why had he waited until now to reveal himself? Papa had liked Raoul. He had encouraged Christine to go out and play with Raoul whenever she wanted to. He had even told Raoul family stories – that's why Raoul called Christine 'Little Lotte'. Papa had played his violin for Raoul, and had even tried to teach Raoul (although Raoul turned out to be better at cello). Why would the Angel of Music suddenly say that Raoul shouldn't be part of Christine's life? And why, if this was the same man, would the Angel say that his name was Erik?

Raoul, who had been watching Christine intently, got up and gently took the picture out of Christine's hands. "Little Lotte already has an Angel of Music," he said quietly. "Her father lives on through her and her alone."

Christine glared at Raoul. "What do you know?" she snapped, pushing him away. "You don't know what it's like to live without your father! You don't know what it's like, waiting every single day for the Angel of Music to come! You don't know what it's like to know that your father couldn't fulfil all of his promises even though he promised. Papa promised to send the Angel…"

"I do actually know," Raoul said coldly, straightening his posture and crossing his arms. He looked far more intimidating when his eyes were filled with anger. "My father died last year, Christine, and he made a lot of promises that he couldn't keep. I think the best one that he told me was that he promised that he'd come to every performance that I had, whether I was on the cello or doing a poetry slam. Want to know how many he came to in my life? Oh, right – he came to one. He came to one crappy concert when I was fifteen and sitting in the back of the cellos in my orchestra. Christine, parents make a lot of promises that they can't keep. That doesn't mean we hold a grudge against them for the rest of our lives. And it doesn't mean that we hope, irrationally, that they'll fulfil the promises after they're fucking dead."

Christine winced. She had never dared to say that her father was dead in such blunt terms, and to hear it from Raoul's mouth was almost worse. But there was something about his tone that made her come to her senses. Angels did exist – she almost had to believe that, or the world became unbearable. But perhaps her Angel of Music did not exist in the way that she wanted it to. Maybe this was just a man who had learned way too much about her and was trying, one last time, to win her over. But who would be this cruel? Who would remind her of her father right after her first performance as a lead in a musical? Who would pretend to be her father, when she still hadn't gotten over losing him?

She took a deep breath and swallowed hard, pushing back any tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "But you know. You must know how you look for any hope at all, no matter how impossible it might be, that they're still with you?"

Raoul's anger seemed to evaporate instantaneously as he put his arms around Christine. "I know," he said compassionately. "But they are with us still. Philippe said that once. They're still with us because we're kind of carrying on their legacy. It's like that one line in Harry Potter. Um-"

"'The ones we love never truly leave us'," Meg recited. "He's right, Christine. When you sing, you're keeping your father's musical gift with you. Or when you go and build robots, you're using his ingenuity to figure out things." She paused and pursed her lips. "Sorry, that didn't come out the way I wanted it to. But you share 50% of his DNA, you know? He's still kind of, half there."

Christine nodded. "Thank you," she said meekly. "I'm really sorry. I just – I just got carried away. Maybe. Oh, I don't know. This is all so strange, and I don't know how to deal with any of this."

"I'm sorry for getting mad," Raoul said, hugging her tightly. "I thought I was losing you to this guy. But I'll be with you, supporting you, every step of the way. I'd testify in court if you need me to."

"I don't know if the court would believe me," Christine said, letting out a hollow laugh. "The police certainly didn't."

"I believe you," Raoul said simply. "And I'll protect you, Christine. I won't let him harm you."

Christine smiled shyly. "That's all I need, really," she replied.

"I heard we were apologising, so I'm sorry that I have such an extensive knowledge of Harry Potter that I haven't really heard anything else that's happened because I've been reciting the rest of the book in my head," Meg added. "On a separate note though, we do have two performances tomorrow and it's past midnight so we really should go to bed."

Everyone agreed, so Meg crawled into her bed and Christine attempted (and failed) to get Raoul to take her bed for the night. Not that it mattered tremendously though, because by morning Christine had fallen off her bed and was safely wrapped in Raoul's arms.