Disclaimer:
Yeah, PotO's not mine. -Nod-

Info:
Woo hoo! Chapter 3! Thanks Countess Alana for the review! Erik has absolutely no idea who Denise is. I guess you could say he's too caught up in Christine! So, yeah! Also, the story kind of follows both the book, and movie, but being a Phanfic, there will be numerous things that are different! Everybody will be OOC sometimes so just bear with it! - It's just for fun!
I told you this one would be longer!

-x-

For quite a long time, Denise had been listening behind the door of Christine's dressing room. She had learned three things about the mysterious voice. His name is Erik, he comes to Christine and Christine alone, and he is her 'Angel of Music'. Denise grew jealous of these facts, but she couldn't figure out why. Every time she heard the Angel's voice, more anger grew in her towards Christine. Somehow she had to get this Angel, but how? Still, time passed and Denise listened. Her dreams were always filled with Erik's voice, that sweet, powerful, hypnotizing voice. Yet, Time still pressed on.

Denise was now twelve years old. She never broke her habit of waiting in her dressing room for an hour or so after her lesson, then go to Christine's door. On days she didn't have a lesson, she would lie in her bed dreaming of Erik's voice filling the room. There really wasn't anything better to do. M. Tiquet was usually playing the piano. Denise loved this, because when M. Tiquet sang, Erik's voice would cover up his and sooth Denise. Was she going mad? Funny how a twelve-year-old can be so much in love with something she has never even seen!

Denise was getting ready to go to her lesson one day when M. Tiquet's servant, Arnald Vanier, came into her room holding an envelope. He handed it to Denise and left the room casually. Denise raised an eyebrow at the envelope, then, sighed and read the front. It said: "To my lovely Denise". She opened the envelope carefully and read the letter, written with slanted writing, in black ink. She recognized it as M. Tiquet's writing.

Denise, I'm afraid I have to take a short leave of absence. M. Vanier will care for you in the meantime. Please try to understand. I'm headed to London to visit my sick, old mother. I've spoken of her to you. She is on her death bed and requested I come to visit. Don't get yourself in trouble! I will be back in a few weeks. Perhaps a month if things do not go as planned. I left shortly after I handed this to M. Vanier, I'm sorry I didn't get to say good-bye in person. I figured you wouldn't care anyways, with the way you've been acting.
Much Love,
Roland Tiquet

Denise slipped the letter back into the envelope. Now thinking about it, she hadn't been speaking to M. Tiquet lately, or doing things around the house for him. He must've thought she was useless. Denise slowly walked out of her room, now feeling bad that she had not been able to see her guardian off. She set the note on the piano and stared at it for a few minutes. M. Tiquet was the only man who had ever been a father to her, and now she wouldn't see him for a while. For once, her mind was not on Erik. She looked at the time and panicked. She was going be late again.

When Denise got to the opera house, Elisabeth was not there. Denise sighed at the thought of not being able to tell her about M. Tiquet. She tried to put it from her mind, and thought of Erik. He was the only thing that she had to believe in at that moment. She smiled and did not worry the rest of the lesson.
While Denise was sitting in her dressing room after the lesson, Meg Giry walked in slowly with a piece of parchment. She set it on a small table and backed out of the room. A girl, getting dressed, picked it up and squealed. "It's a letter!"

"Who is it addressed to?" another girl asked with a giggle.

"Oh, it's for Denise," exclaimed the first girl. She tossed it to Denise with a small sigh. Denise blinked at getting yet another letter that day, when she rarely got any. There was no envelope, but the letter was folded as if it would have been in an envelope. Denise unfolded it. It was written with black ink, like the previous letter, but it had finer writing. She read to herself.

Denise Anne Collard, I have noticed that you have been acting very strange lately. It took me a while, but I think I have guessed why. Christine Daae has an Angel of Music. You've heard, and you have become obsessed with this Angel, this Erik. This is correct, is it not? All I can say to you now is to not get mixed up in the business of the Angel. He is not of good company. I cannot speak of him to you in person, for he does not like it. I cannot tell you anything more about him, for I do not know. You must never speak of him to anyone. Stop listening from behind Christine's door. Stay out of Christine's business. Is this understood? Thank you.

The letter was not signed by anyone, but Denise had her thoughts of who it was from. She ran out of the room to see if she was right. She had to find Mme. Giry. It had been Meg who brought the note in, perhaps her mother had her do so after she wrote it. Or perhaps it was the well known Opera Ghost who had given her this note. Denise giggled at the thought. She had known that the Opera Ghost only would send letters through Mme. Giry from somewhere in Box 5. Somehow Denise doubted it was from him though!

Denise soon found Mme. Giry sweeping the stage. She didn't look up at Denise. "Mme. Giry!" Denise called, "Did you, by any chance, write to me a letter that was not signed?"

Mme. Giry looked up. She did not say anything for a moment, but just stared at Denise, still clutching the note. After a short silence, she finally spoke, but in a somewhat harsh voice. "Denise, everything on that letter must be understood. It doesn't matter who sent it, the Angel, the Ghost, or myself. You must leave things be." With that, Mme. Giry walked off the stage and through a side door.

Denise began to walk out of the opera house. She figured it must have been Mme. Giry who sent the letter. If it was the Opera Ghost, the writing would've been in red. She overheard M. Lefevre, the Opera's manager, once speaking of the blood red ink that the Opera Ghost used for his letters. Denise stopped abruptly. Why would Mme. Giry even mention the Ghost? He didn't have anything to do with the Angel, did he? It seemed extremely odd that Mme. Giry would tie the Ghost in with this. The Ghost couldn't have sent it...could he? Denise was sure that the Angel hadn't sent it, unless the Angel also sent letters through Mme. Giry. That was doubtful. Denise shook these thoughts from her head. It was all too confusing.

That night she went to Joseph Vernet's house. She had to do something to get her mind off of not visiting Erik's voice, teaching Christine to sing. As she got to the door, Mme. Vernet was coming out. She smiled at Denise. "Here for Joseph?" she asked politely. Denise nodded. Mme. Vernet sighed. "He's not here right now, but he asked me to give you this." she handed Denise an envelope.

Denise sat at her kitchen table staring at the three notes she had gotten that day. She hadn't opened Joseph's yet, and feared to. She was too afraid it would contain bad news. She closed her eyes and slowly ripped open the envelope. The letter seemed like someone had stuffed it in there rather quickly. It was wrinkled at the corners. Denise unfolded it and examined the writing. It was very sloppy with scribble marks here and there, yet again, in black ink. She inhaled deeply and began to read:

Denise, I'm sorry that I wasn't around to give you this. I went with my father to Australia to research. Australia is quite far away from Paris and I won't be back for a while. It may be even a few months. I decided that I had better tell you something I had been forever longing to tell you. I can't tell you though. You must do a riddle. I haven't had a chance to talk to you for so long, so this is payback. What happened to you? Anyway, I left something under your doormat in front of your house. If you would be so kind to retrieve it. Thank you!
Yours friend always,
Joseph

Denise read the note over a few times. What did that mean? Solve the riddle to find out what he wanted to tell her? It just made no sense. Once again she read over Joseph's letter.

She went outside and lifted up her doormat. Under it, there was a key, and yet another note. This new note simply said: Behind the bush. In front of the window. -Joseph. Denise didn't understand. She gathered up the note and key and went inside. She set the key and all four letters she had received that day on her nightstand. She would figure it out later.

The next morning, Denise woke up and got ready for her lesson. However, the letters on her nightstand caught her eye. She picked up the one she found under her doormat. Behind the bush. In front of the window. What did it mean? Maybe it had something to do with her house. She ran outside and looked at all her windows. There wasn't even a bush in from of any of them. She sighed. Maybe it's Joseph's bushes? No, there wasn't time to look. Denise began to walk to the opera house. She really had no intention of going, though. Not even for Erik. She slowed her pace and eventually came to a stop. Without further question, she raced to Joseph's house.

Once there, she ran around his house, looking at the windows. There were bushes all right, but nothing of interest behind them and in front of the window. She sighed and sat at a bench in the yard. She looked down and saw a wooden horse halfway buried in the dirt and grass. She unearthed it and examined it. This was one of the horses that she played with. It was her favorite as a child. She remembered everything about it except it's name. Joseph used to play with a horse that they pretended had fallen in love with Denise's. They had wooden props to set up a scene as well. Denise's horse lived in a stable with one window, a tree in front, and a rose-bush on the side. Joseph would have his horse wait by the rose-bush so Denise's could see him through the window in the morning. Behind the bush. In front of the window.

Denise gasped. Is that what Joseph meant? It may have been! At any rate, how could that be what he wanted to tell Denise? She already knew about the horses. She sighed and glanced over to the garden, the place where they had once played their: Behind the bush. In front of the window game. She stood up and walked over slowly. There was a small patch of dirt where the props seemed to have recently been set up. That's an odd sort of thing. Maybe it had to do with the riddle. She kneeled down and touched the rose-bush. She noticed the dirt between the stable window and the bush had been dug up. Once again, that is an odd sort of thing. She dug the earth up. A box with a lock was uncovered. The lock that the key belonged to. Denise giggled and ran home with the box.

Once in her room, Denise slammed the door and locked it. She was completely happy with herself for solving this riddle. She slipped the key in the keyhole and twisted. It worked! The lock was free! Carefully, Denise opened the box, but only to find another note. Denise sighed hysterically. How much more of this could she take? As she read this note, her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly. I Love You Denise was all the note said. Was Joseph serious? Did he really love her? She didn't love him though! She loved Erik! But what's the use of loving Erik? The Angel she would never see. He would never even know she existed. Thinking of this, Denise started to cry. She hadn't cried in so long. She collapsed on her bed, the small note still clutched in her hand that confessed Joseph's love to her. She fell asleep, and dreamt a dream that she never had before. She was with Joseph. It was just them, and the horses.

-x-