Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Phantom.Although I wouldn't mind
owning Erik and Tom Riddle!
Deep in the cellars of the Opera House, Erik awaited his Angel. She would be there soon, she never failed him. He sat at his organ, composing his greatest work yet, Don Juan Triumphant. His Angel, his Christine was to sing the lead, and everyone would see how beautiful she was. And she belonged to him. As he wrote, he didn't see a small red-head walk in quietly from the shadows, looking very confused and lost.
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"Ready Gin?" Harry Potter smiled at his girlfriend. She had just graduated and was practicing to get her apparating license. The petite 17 year-old smiled and nodded. She closed her eyes and was gone with a pop. Harry smiled and sat back, waiting for her to return.
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Virginia Weasley had succeeded in apparating, but she found herself somewhere very strange. She seemed to be in a dungeon almost. She walked out of the shadows, her bright red hair contrasting greatly with the dark stone. She shuddered involuntarily; this place reminded her of the Chamber.
She walked into a large room, following the haunting strains of music. She came upon a big, open room lit by candles. There was a young man, wearing a mask, sitting and playing the organ. Ginny drew closer, forgetting about Harry, about home. There was only the music, and she crept nearer to him.
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Erik heard tentative steps and smiled to himself under the pure white mask. "Do not be afraid, Angel." His whispering voice flowed to meet Ginny's ear and she gasped lightly at the beauty of it. Erik's superior hearing brought the gasp to his attention and he turned furiously in his seat to see who had managed to find their way to his home deep in the cellars.
His mismatched eyes ran over the petite girl before him, so unlike his Angel. He watched her intently for a few moments. His Angel was a dark Angel, tall and beautiful with a womanish quality. This girl before him had a different kind of beauty, a fiery beauty that reminded him of the sun setting.
Ginny's breath caught as he turned to her. The brilliant mask hid his face from her, and her hand fluttered to her breast in surprise. The action caught Erik's gaze and he followed it. Her hand was dainty, her whole appearance much like of a doll's. Her fluttering white dress made her appearance that much more unreal, contrasting with her bright hair and eyes. Erik felt as though he were caught in a dream.
"Excuse me.I didn't mean to intrude, sir." She said politely, with a little curtsy, not taking her amber eyes from the mysterious man before her, so unlike Harry, or anyone she knew for that matter. Being grown up by wizards, she knew nothing of the legends of Paris.
Erik was taken aback by her words. None but his Christine had ever spoken to him like that, and she only when she had accepted him. This girl, this child in front of him, showed no signs of fear, only curiosity emanated from every part of her. He said nothing as he watched her watching him.
"How did you come down here?" He asked, his soft voice very demanding, drawing the truth from her.
AN: Well, how do you like? Kind of strange, I know. In case you couldn't tell, this story is a mix of Phantom of The Opera and Harry Potter. Please review and let me know what you think and if I should continue!
Deep in the cellars of the Opera House, Erik awaited his Angel. She would be there soon, she never failed him. He sat at his organ, composing his greatest work yet, Don Juan Triumphant. His Angel, his Christine was to sing the lead, and everyone would see how beautiful she was. And she belonged to him. As he wrote, he didn't see a small red-head walk in quietly from the shadows, looking very confused and lost.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Ready Gin?" Harry Potter smiled at his girlfriend. She had just graduated and was practicing to get her apparating license. The petite 17 year-old smiled and nodded. She closed her eyes and was gone with a pop. Harry smiled and sat back, waiting for her to return.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Virginia Weasley had succeeded in apparating, but she found herself somewhere very strange. She seemed to be in a dungeon almost. She walked out of the shadows, her bright red hair contrasting greatly with the dark stone. She shuddered involuntarily; this place reminded her of the Chamber.
She walked into a large room, following the haunting strains of music. She came upon a big, open room lit by candles. There was a young man, wearing a mask, sitting and playing the organ. Ginny drew closer, forgetting about Harry, about home. There was only the music, and she crept nearer to him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Erik heard tentative steps and smiled to himself under the pure white mask. "Do not be afraid, Angel." His whispering voice flowed to meet Ginny's ear and she gasped lightly at the beauty of it. Erik's superior hearing brought the gasp to his attention and he turned furiously in his seat to see who had managed to find their way to his home deep in the cellars.
His mismatched eyes ran over the petite girl before him, so unlike his Angel. He watched her intently for a few moments. His Angel was a dark Angel, tall and beautiful with a womanish quality. This girl before him had a different kind of beauty, a fiery beauty that reminded him of the sun setting.
Ginny's breath caught as he turned to her. The brilliant mask hid his face from her, and her hand fluttered to her breast in surprise. The action caught Erik's gaze and he followed it. Her hand was dainty, her whole appearance much like of a doll's. Her fluttering white dress made her appearance that much more unreal, contrasting with her bright hair and eyes. Erik felt as though he were caught in a dream.
"Excuse me.I didn't mean to intrude, sir." She said politely, with a little curtsy, not taking her amber eyes from the mysterious man before her, so unlike Harry, or anyone she knew for that matter. Being grown up by wizards, she knew nothing of the legends of Paris.
Erik was taken aback by her words. None but his Christine had ever spoken to him like that, and she only when she had accepted him. This girl, this child in front of him, showed no signs of fear, only curiosity emanated from every part of her. He said nothing as he watched her watching him.
"How did you come down here?" He asked, his soft voice very demanding, drawing the truth from her.
AN: Well, how do you like? Kind of strange, I know. In case you couldn't tell, this story is a mix of Phantom of The Opera and Harry Potter. Please review and let me know what you think and if I should continue!