DISCLAIMER: I am making no money off of this, and this site isn't either. This is purely fan-fiction written by a weird person who has absolutely nothing better to do than write this stuff. I don't own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Snape, etc. J.K.R. does. I don't own Erik the Opera Ghost either—Gaston Leroux created him (or simply wrote about him, I don't know…)

Chapter 21

So, to make a long story short, Erik and Severus came back to the De Chagny estate when next Thursday came to their door, and they brought away the blushing 'bride' of sorts to Erik's lair.

Raoul would never learn of it until, Christine said, his return home. At this point he would be met by a note, from her. This would insist that she left for Switzerland because she had heard that she had some possible relatives there—a novel thing for the girl practically an orphan all her life! Trusting her implicitly, Raoul would proceed to run off to Switzerland, only to discover by eventuality that she was not there. By then, if he came back to the estate, there would be nothing he could do. Even if he did suspect Erik, it would not be as if he could get down to the darkest lairs of the opera unaided. The Persian could not help, for the queer little man had left Paris on official business for a year, with no forwarding address.

But Erik said that they should be long gone by then. Now that Severus had remedied his face, there was no need to hide from the open world! He and Christine . . . they were free! And Severus, too, as a matter of course.

Though 'Shylock' did sense a certain hesitancy when Erik spoke of house-searching and real-estate numbers. It was as though finally the ugly duckling, upon learning he was a swan, could not decide whether he even wanted to change his anti-social ways. Snape could not blame his friend for not knowing what to do.

In the meantime, between leisurely searching for houses in the country, the reunited couple was more happy than any Severus had ever seen. Every day, they spent every minute mooning over each other like bovines, or so Snape petulantly thought. Christine seemed strangely content to live under the opera house for an indefinable amount of time.

Sometimes, they asked Snape to disapparate them to some meadow or other, and upon their arrival they immediately paid him little to no attention. Severus did come to learn that anywhere they went, he probably would be bored stiff of watching them coddle and talk in hushed voices as lovers do. He began to bring books along all the time.

Once in a while, Severus would bring up to Erik the topic of his going home, but Erik always insisted that:

"First, you are not at all in our way. I rather like having you around. Second, I simply do not want you to go home. Besides, what is 'home' to you? What would you be going back to, if you did return to your own time? Make this your home. At least here you have a friend."

On these points, Erik's opinion never wavered. Snape often mentally countered the last argument, saying to himself that "Perhaps a friend wrapped up around a girl is equal to none at all," but the fact that Snape himself was a proponent of Christine and Erik's affections ruled out stating this aloud.

In frustration, Severus began to get more and more angry, pettish, and rude. He kept to his room, either reading, drinking, or both—anything to wile the time away.

Under the class of 'anything,' Snape often engaged in daydreaming. Only, he did not call it 'daydreaming', per se, he considered it to be some brand of enjoyable thinking.

One game of intellect Severus found himself amused by was that of Imagine-what-this-person's-life-would-have-been-like-without-you-in-it. The rules were simple: think of a person in his own time, then consider what their life would have been like if Snape had not existed. This had been inspired by an old Muggle movie he'd seen once called It's a Wonderful Life, and the engagement had its foundations, rather scarily, in his later childhood.

As usual, he considered his parents first. Tobias Snape, if he never had a son, would have had one 'normal' child, Sylvia (a squib!). Eileen Snape would have fondled over her daughter far more, and probably would have had far less arguments with her husband. She might even have abandoned her talents as a witch altogether.

Then Snape moved on to the Marauders. They definitely would have found another scapegoat, probably . . . yes, probably it would have been Philip Fugbunny. One of the ones first to laugh whenever Severus was picked on, usually because he knew it could be him.

Dumbledore would not be dead now. That much was certain. So would many other people, too . . . but, then, Snape could not remember them all.

Narcissa Malfoy would probably have somebody else under the employ of watching her son when the child was old enough to do the Dark Lord's dirty work. And . . . wait. Narcissa Malfoy.

That was who Christine and Raoul reminded him of. The De Chagnys could very well have been the founders of the Malfoy family!

It all made complete sense, based on what Severus knew of the Malfoys. Originally, the Malfoys were French; it was their pride to say that they came over to England with William the Conquerer.

However, in maybe the late 1400s, one Malfoy completely desecrated half the family's enormous fortune, meaning that they had to build it all up again. Irate, the elders sent that boy away, back to France.

Then, in the early 1900s, (roughly the time they were in now) old Elmongous Malfoy was on his deathbed, and called his distant cousin's boys to come back from France. It was said that the older never came, but the younger did, with his bride. Their arrival was the only reason the family had not died out right then and there.

The familial resemblance was very strong indeed. Though Snape was uncertain if Raoul was magical, he doubted it because of the boy's apparent helplessness to save himself and Christine before Erik allowed them to leave. Christine could not possibly be magical. That would just be too much of a coincidence. The boy was probably a hopeless squib . . . but a squib and a Muggle could give birth to a wizard . . .

Snape recalled a mental image of the Malfoy hall of portraits. Somewhere along the line, though he had not ever seen the name of De Chagny gracing the name plates, he had seen an image of what possibly Raoul could look like in old age, and Christine also. That clinched it, in Severus' mind.

He did, at one point, take time to write a letter to Erik about his discovery. It read:

My dear lost friend—

I will be quite blunt in this epistle, but do not blame me! Blame, instead, fate, destiny—whatever you wish to call the disruptive enmity which controls all life. Now what I have to say is of the utmost importance, to me, you, and all the wizarding world at large. Only one man can save us all—and that one man is you.

Now do not think me crazy when I say that, ever since I first saw Raoul de Chagny up close, I realized he was very similar to someone I knew. This, in itself, is not so frightening until I explain whom he resembles.

In my world, there is a long-standing, French-descended family called the Malfoys. Now, you will recall the snatches of the epic war I've given you, decades of battle against –dare I pen the name? The Dark Lord. One of this man's—fiend's—greatest supporters , both in wealth and loyalty, was the Malfoy family.

Here, he went into explaining all the proof he had assembled. I shall not review all that again.

In short, I determine that if you do not let Christine go, you will throw the entire world out of hand. The reason I say this is: the only reasons the conglomerated good ever won against the Dark Lord was because of my double-crossing, and because of the blunders of Lucius Malfoy.

They could have done without me; I just imparted information. But Lucius, to be very frank, is one of the most colossal, big-headed idiots I've ever known. (Probably from all the incest that goes on in his family, he got a dumbness allele from that bastard great-great grandfather of his.) Without his mistakes, the Dark Lord would have taken over the world, and turned it into a living hell for everyone. I do not exaggerate.

My friend, let her go. Force her, if necessary. She must live her life with Raoul, one way or another. I am sorry for being the one who brought her back into your vision . . . only to snatch her away again . . . but what can I do? I made a terrible mistake.

Simply, it comes down to what I've previously confided. I wanted to do something for you without the taint of selfishness that had poisoned my other kindnesses to you. But, in the end, it was my own selfishness that made me want to do it. It was my own selfishness for a sense of goodness that I can never achieve.

Point made! Erik, you will greatly disturb the well-being of generations to come if you do not let Christine go to England with Raoul! Once they do, we no longer have a problem. But in order for them to get there, first you must let them, then prod them along by attempting to shadow them. Remember, Christine said her husband had a business trip, and that was the whole reason we could take her? Possibly it may have had to do with his great-Uncle in England! For what other business could a Comete of leisure have?

We have spoiled their plans hence far, and, maybe, the future of the world. I can not—will not—imagine the horrors let loose if you do not do as I bid. In fact, I believe that if you do not make your own sacrifice, I shall do it for you. I pray, though, that I will not find it necessary to put you through such torture.

"Now that," Snape decided, "Is a horrible letter."

But he left it in Erik's organ bench, nevertheless.

To Be Continued!!

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