Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Phantom of the Opera, or the lyrics to the stage play. They all belong to J.K. Rowling, Gaston Leroux, and Andrew Lloyd Webber, respectively.

A/N: I would like to thank all those who have reviewed this story thus far. Like I've always said, they mean so much to me. I love getting them and I love all who write them. Peace out!

Chapter Nine: Rose Pomfrey Explains…

Albus went through the door in search of Rose Pomfrey, the one woman who seemed to be the only one with any significant amount of information about what was going on. He had not missed the small looks on her face whenever the phantom had left a large crowd, or how she seemed to know what to do in every situation. She also seemed to be the only one with the notes on what to do. It just didn't make sense to him. He needed answers and he needed them now.

He looked to his, left, and then to his right. There she was, heading hurriedly down the corridor. He called out to her.

"Madam Pomfrey… Madam Pomfrey…" He quickly caught up with her.

"What are you doing here, Headmaster?" she asked, never looking at him as she continued her way down the corridor.

"I came to speak with you," he said, trying to control his breath. She was walking rather quickly.

"You came here to ask me of the school ghost." It wasn't a question but, rather, a statement.

"What do you know of him?" he asked.

"Please, sir, don't ask me. I know no more than anyone else," Rose said, still refusing to look at him. Albus stopped her by grabbing her arm gently. It was only then that she looked at him.

"That's not true! You've seen something, haven't you?" He looked deep into her eyes and he knew he had gotten to her. She looked behind them, and then looked down.

"I don't know what I've seen. Please don't ask me, Headmaster." She made to move away once again, but Albus stood in front of her.

"Madam Pomfrey, please," he said. "Please- for all our sakes." Rose looked around them as though she were deciding whether or not he could be trusted. Then, as though suddenly deciding it was alright, she nodded.

"Very well," she said. She pulled him by the hand into through a door on their left. Albus was very much relieved that she had decided to tell him after all. He followed her eagerly into the room. It was a small room, one he had never seen before. It was simple enough in its decoration. He could see that it was washroom of some sorts because of the washstand to his right. A mirror rested just above it, and across from him stood a small trunk. To his left, a dresser stood, old and worn. All these things worked together to make the room even smaller than it already was. On the dresser were a few pictures, one of which was of Poppy. He recognized her easily, and the other one looked to be her sister.

"Poppy has a sister?" he asked. Rose looked at him and smiled.

"No, that was me when I was younger," she said. "She looks so much like I did when I was her age." Smiling sadly, she motioned for him to sit down on the trunk. He did and waited impatiently for her to speak. It was a few moments before she spoke again. She seemed very nervous about speaking, and yet, at the same time, relieved to be sharing her secrets with another. She paced about the small room as she thought of what to tell him and how.

"It was years ago. There was a traveling fair in the city. Tumblers, conjurers, human oddities…" She trailed off as she thought of it.

"Go on," urged Albus, nodding for her to continue. Rose sighed.

"I was very young. I was in my third year, looking to be an apprentice to the school medi-wizard upon my graduation. I remember it all so clearly…" She trailed off as she went into a trance, standing still for the first time since they had entered the room and staring off into a distant past. She didn't say anything for nearly a whole minute. Albus thought he might say something, but before he had a chance to, she spoke again.

"I went to the muggle fair for a night of fun. And there was…. I shall never forget him; a man… locked in a cage…" Once again, she was pacing, her left hand on her hip and her right hand near her mouth, as though she were thinking very hard about something very important.

"In a cage?" asked Albus. That was ludicrous… absurd.

"A prodigy, sir," Rose continued, exasperation clear in her voice. But she never let up on her pacing. Her right hand dropped to her hip, mirroring her left hand. "Scholar, animagus, powerful wizard, seer-," Albus nodded, finally beginning to piece the clues together. Rose nodded.

"Strong, an expert in Transfiguration and Dark Arts…"

"And a musician and architect as well, Headmaster," said Rose. She finally stopped and looked at Albus. None of the muggles knew he was a wizard. They thought he was just another exceptional child, though they never treated him like it. Instead, they treated him as though he were an animal. They said that he had built for the Shah of Persia, a maze of mirrors…" Albus began to grow impatient, so he cut in.

"Who is this man…?"

"A freak of nature… more monster than man…" Albus frowned.

"Deformed…?" he murmured.

"From birth, it seemed," breathed Poppy, who had once again gone back to her pacing.

"Good Lord," breathed Albus, rubbing his head. He couldn't believe this. Could all this really be true? He didn't know, but he figured if anyone knew, it would be Rose. He looked back up at her and was struck when she next spoke.

"And then, he went missing… He escaped." She stopped in front of the washstand and stared into the mirror residing above it.

"Go on," urged Albus once again.

"They never found him. It was said that he had died." Albus frowned.

"Did they ever find him?" he asked darkly. Rose sighed.

"The world forgot him, but I never can; for in this darkness, I have seen him again." Albus sighed and nodded. He had learned a lot within the past five minutes, and he was having some difficulty trying to digest everything. After a while, he looked back up at her.

"And so our phantom's this man?" The question seemed to startle Rose out of her reverie and she stepped back from the mirror.

"I have said too much, Headmaster," she said, not looking at him and heading for the door. "And there have been too many accidents."

"Accidents?" asked Albus, getting up from his trunk.

"Way too many," he heard her say. He stepped out into the hallway and managed to catch a glimpse of her skirt as she turned the corner.

"Madam Pomfrey!" he called out to her. He attempted to chase after her, needing more answers. But he could not find her.

A/N2: I know, somewhat shorter than my other chapters, but oh well. That is all I had planned for this chapter. The next chapter shall be Notes II. Okay? Read long and prosper. Always Hopeful