Yes my friends, I'm BACK! I've got all of the chapters up to 7 completed, but I am fishing for more reviews by staggering them. If you've come to this chapter directly, read chapter 3 first, I completely redid it! Hopefully, it's more interesting now. Okay, here goes! We start with Erik.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone that you recognise. However, if you don't recognise them, I own them. They are MINE!! If, by some strange and incalcuably unrealistic chance you are a Leroux or Weber, DON'T SUE ME!

Erik had almost killed me several times, and I remembered every one of them very well. So it might not have been the wisest thing to do. I mean, showing up out of the blue, and then trying to. But I did it anyway. I felt guilty for leaving Lyra in his hands for so long after I had decided not to, and it was the only thing I could think of.

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"Nadir, it is not an option. I will never do it, and she will never consent. Give it up."

"Erik, she can not stay here. She just turned twelve! It won't be long before she begins to think, and feel, like a woman. You're everything she's ever known, and you've installed that da** love of privacy in her. Who will she turn to with her questions? Worse, we are the only people she knows, really, and she doesn't know me that well! She needs to be around women!"

"I have had very few experiences that recommend the company of women."

"I have had many. Erik, if we leave it the way it is things could get messy. She NEEDS to have other ideas, other people in her life! She's becoming just like you!"

That wasn't good. I wouldn't wish my life on Raoul de Changy, much less Lyra. As much as I hated it, the idea gained feasibility. Maybe I HAD sheltered her too much. I just didn't want her to be hurt, no more than I could help, at least. I sighed.

"What do you suggest Nadir? Public school? They barely exist anymore. With all of the unrest, the few that still stand are more dangerous than the streets!"

"Well. I was thinking more along the lines of boarding school."

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He exploded. I hadn't seen him this angry for a very very long time.

"Boarding School!? You fool, those things are cruel to even the most prominent.."

"Exactly," I interrupted. This would be my only chance to prove that I was right. I couldn't blow it.

He stopped, completely. "So, you are suggesting that we send her as the unfortunate daughter of a very, very, very rich family? Nothing else would possibly work. (He paused for a long time.) Nadir, this is hopeless. Even if the matron takes her in as a star pupil, the other students would loathe her. She would be the smartest one there, the most talented, and the only one with a mask."

"But if they didn't loathe her. If just one became her friend, wouldn't that be worth the risk?"

"No."

"Erik she needs experience in the world. I know you don't want to lose her. I don't blame you, not at all. I've lost my own children, and I wouldn't wish that on any one. But you won't lose her. You just have to let her grow up." I waited, and then added, "You asked for me to help you, and now I am."

He sank into a chair, his head in his hands. Despite everything, I wished that I didn't have to join the ranks of those who hurt him. But I was fighting for Lyra. I truly believed that this was the best course of action for everyone.

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Maybe he was right. Lyra needed to see more of the world than I could show her. If nothing else, it would show her just exactly what she was up against. I hated this! I felt as if I had suddenly been pulled back seven years, to when I sent Christine away. But I said

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"All right Nadir. You win, this once. Lyra will go to a boarding school, one I choose."

I stopped just beyond the door. I couldn't have heard that right. Father had promised never to leave me or send me away long ago. He had sworn! I turned back to the door and, well, practically shouted "WHAT?"

They turned and saw me. Papa merely stood there, while Nadir said, "Boarding school won't be that bad. You'll meet lots of new children, and."

"I WON'T GO! FORGET IT NADIR! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO COME BACK AFTER SIX YEARS AND TELL ME WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE?"

"Lyra, I agree with Nadir. It's best this way. I've taught you almost everything I know and.."

"Liar."

"Well, not everything, but really, it will be best. You need to meet other people."

"I do that here Papa... I sneak out every Saturday to visit some of my friends."

"I know, but if you go... There needs to be someone to actually recognize you for your learning. You don't want to become an opera ghost do you?"

"Well, no... But I don't need to go anywhere else! Graduating takes years Papa!"

"Yes, but even I have studied under different people. And with you, graduation will probably take a couple of years, at most." He came up and put his hand on my shoulder. "You can be so much more than I am, Lyra, if you only take the opportunity. Please, will you try?"

I stared up at him, and then lowered my head in defeat. "All right, I'll go to boarding school. I'll even try to stay there. But you Nadir," I added, meeting his eyes, "you can go..."I was cut off by my own conscious and Father's look, so I resorted to turning and stalking angrily from the room.

The next few months were very predictable. That's not to say that they were uninteresting, but any educated reader can guess what they contained. The house became cold and silent, as it hadn't been before, and I was very plain about how much I HATED Nadir, who consequently didn't show up much. Father and I slacked off on our lessons for the first time ever. Instead, I read or worked on my own, and he composed with a vengeance. I will leave the parting totally to the reader's imagination.

Madame Thernandier's School for the Musically Gifted was highly praised by all of its patrons. They were said to have the best musical program in France. Father had chosen it himself, out of all of the schools in the world, but when I first saw it I knew I didn't agree with his taste. It was a huge old wooden mansion, a few miles outside of Marseille, painted black, and totally foreboding. At the door, the headmistress resembled nothing more than a vampire. She was tall, thin, and garbed completely in black as well. Her face was unnaturally pale, and her hair was a dirty color of gray. She came foreword to greet me.

"Mademoiselle Angen, welcome to our school. I trust that the following years will make you proud to be here and us proud to have you."

"Nothing would please me more, Madame..."

"Oh, of course. My name is Madame Renifler, I am the headmistress here."

"Well Madame, it is a pleasure to be here."

"Indeed."

She had been examining me, unabashedly, all of the time that we talked. I reached up to make sure that my mask was in place, and stared at her back. Finally, she turned away.

"The servants will get your bags. Come along, lessons are already in progress."

She dragged me through the house into a set of double doors. We were in the back of a huge classroom. There were at least thirty girls in it, not to mention the teacher. I was appalled to realize that I was expected to go to the front with her, but there was not much I could do about it. She had a very hard grip, and the only way that I could have broken it was violent. So, I came along.

"Your Father, she said, has told me that you are very far along in most subjects. But I have given the orders that you are to start at the bottom of each class and the teachers will advance you as they see fit. We all know how kinship can blur the eyes."

"I assure you Madame, there is nothing wrong with my father's sight."

That was the wrong thing to say. She shot me a look that could have melted iron, and I nervously smiled. But she couldn't see that because of the mask, so it had no effect.

"Mister Fuller, this is our new pupil, Lyra Angen. She has come to study, but she seems to think that she is too far along for us."

"Well surely," said the tall, blonde, blatantly English man, "her family would not have sent her if she was too advanced. We shall have to see, won't we."

"Mister Fuller," I said, in English, "I meant no offense. I know that I have much to learn still, and I am far more than willing to do so. I did not mean to insinuate that I was too good for this school by my statement, I only wanted to protect my father's name. If I went about it incorrectly, it is largely due to my inexperience with people outside of my family. I do beg your, and Madame Renifler's pardon."

Mr. Fuller grinned in delight. "And you may have it child! I have not heard such a flawless accent before in all of the time I have taught here! Tell me, who was your tutor?"

"My father taught me everything I know, sir."

"He must be a remarkable man." He turned back to Madame Renifler. "Madame, there is absolutely nothing I can teach this girl. She has flawless English." The room erupted in a loud mumbling. "I recommend that she be asked which of our languages she would like to take. Which would you, my dear?"

"I was wanting to learn Old English, but if that is unavailable I'd like to learn Swedish."

"Do you mean to tell me," Madame Renifler asked, "that you have no interest in Russian, German, or Spanish?"

"Well Madame, I already know those too." This was not the way to start. I was barely able to breath, and the students had long since stopped pretending to murmur quietly. Madame Renifler, she of the unfortunate name, had lost her sickly pallor and adopted a very red blush, that colored her face the hue of a tomato.

"Very well!" she cried, "Swedish it will be!" So saying, she hauled me out of the room. I barely had time to call a goodbye to Mr. Fuller before I was gone.

The Swedish lesson was the only one of the day that went as she expected it to. I was dragged from room to room, and all of my teachers either sent me on or put me in the hardest level of their class. By the time all of the school classes were done, I had a schedule of Swedish 1, Calculus, Advanced Biology, German literature, and Advanced Geography. I was also one of the assistant teachers in self defense. Then came music.

Author's Note: If you are a Le Mis fan, you caught the Thernandier. Yay for you! Thernandier- the name- belongs to a Mssr. Victor Hugo.

In a completely unrelated note, the writers at CSI wrote in our favorite Phantom! That's right ladies and gentlemen, in an episode a few days ago, one of the characters was named Erik Ridan, but his alias was Nadir Kire, which is the same name backwards! Hence, both Erik and Nadir made guest appearences, and CSI is now officially my favorite T.V. show !