Rain's mind wandered as quiet notes played through her mind. Her song would start off slow, almost lazy, then quickly change tempo and become hot and passionate, perhaps like a lover's slow seduction tempestuously changing pace. A flush crawled up her neck as she shook her head and raised her eyes to the two friends leaning against the piano and entertaining themselves. Elise, Rain grinned, such a Slytherin that she was amazed she would acquaint herself with a Ravenclaw like herself and a Gryffindor like Amy. As it was, Amy seemed to be Elise's complete and utter opposite on the personality totem-pole. Shrugging, Rain mused that they all just evened each other out.
As Rain folded the sheet music closed, Elise stuck her nose up in the air and spoke in an overdrawn faux French accent, "Nononono, ma dear, o cannot pick tu notes zat way. It ez just no-te naturalllllllle. Like ziz." She picked her self up off of her seat and poised her arms by her sides, halfway up in the air. "Zis will halp o broaden your breazing space, ma cherie."
Amy raised an eyebrow as she aligned herself next to Elise, straightening her friends posture so that she eventually made her look like some tall exotic bird about to take flight in the large main practice room. Rain glanced around the room to see how the other 17 students were faring in their practices, and was mildly pleased to note that they we're doing about as well as she was.
Clanging her head down on the keys with a crash, Rain turned her head to the side and stared at her two best friends. Long black hair that somehow seemed to be red in the lights above them rained down over her face and the piano keys as she mused. They had always been there for her since first year and never failed to make her laugh, even in the most inappropriate times, though somehow...she just couldn't tell them about her 'dreams'.
Sitting up and brushing her hair behind her ears she rummaged through her bag for something, even though she didn't know exactly what. Failing to find anything of interest, she forcefully zipped her bag closed. "You know, we do have a piece to practice for the winter party," Rain stood up slowly and glanced at the pictures lining the walls. Raising her head up, she imitated an old poster that was said to have come from an opera house in Paris. The woman stood regally upon the surface as her hair towered high above her. A haughty look covered her face and Rain imagined that her costume had glittered beautifully under the light of the stage.
She jolted slightly as Professor Eckin clapped her hands loudly and gestured so they would all make their ways over towards the desks lined up on one end of the large room. She slid into her normal desk in the back alongside Elise as Amy sat down in front of her and turned slightly so she could see both her friends and the front of the desk. Professor Eckin flung her arms out wide and proceeded to flounce herself into her chair. Elise snickered and leaned towards Rain, "Is it just me, or does she act like a large bird of prey more and more every day?"
Rain just grinned and rolled her eyes, tapping her fingers on the desk. She really didn't like being interrupted in the middle of a practice session, whether it was by a professor or not. If she didn't practice, she wouldn't get the music just right. And if she didn't get the music just right, she wouldn't be the best. And if she wasn't the best...her smile broadened, then no one would really want to have to deal with her.
"Now, now children, you really don't need to give me that look," Mona Eckin waved her hands extravagantly over her desk, "This really is important, I swear. I have been informed that I need to give my...gifted musicians," (Elise snickered again.), "More of a formal education in the area of…music history."
Rain sat back with a sigh and stared at the screen behind the professor. Professor Eckin flicked her wand and a large picture projected across the screen at the precise time the lights lowered in the room.
"Maybe I can take a quick nap," Rain lowered her eyelids slightly but opened them wide again when the image on the screen focused. It was a burning building, flames flickering high into the nighttime sky. People were scurrying out of the entrances, frantically climbing into carriages and fleeing away from the collapsing building.
Professor Ecking looked across the class with saddened eyes, "This, my dears, was one of the largest musical tragedies in history. Death, destruction, yet a mystery in it all, a mystery that has transcribed across time…," she let out a shuddering breath and attempted to poise herself. Placing her hands on the desk, she lowered her head, her long curling bronze hair falling about her face, "It was so horrible. Fire everywhere, the chandelier," her voice dropped to a mere whisper, "The Phantom…"
A hand shot up in the front of the classroom, "Professor Ecking!"
The professor's face rose slowly at the sound and her eyes fixed on Hermione Granger, "Yes?"
Hermione's face was screwed up in concentration as she ran what the professor had said through her mind, "When you talk of a phantom, do you mean a ghost? Like Sir Nicholas? Or a poltergeist?"
Professor Ecking's eyes rose from her desktop slowly. Her mind wandered back to the stories that her grandmother had told her in front of the fires that had often occupied her parents home. It hadn't been very often when her grandmother and grandfather had come to visit them, but Mona had always asked to hear the same story. 'Grandmére, will you please tell me the story of the phantom…?' 'My dear child, why do you linger on a time that has passed? I'm amazed that you don't have it memorized by now.' Her grandmother's dark eyes would sparkle to cover a small ghost of sadness before Grandpére Raoul would pull both of them away over to the piano.
"No, I'm sorry Hermione, but it was neither of those. Perhaps when I have more time, I will tell all of you more. The bell is about to ring." A small smile spread across Professor Ecking's face as she hurried her students out of the room before moving and standing in front of another opera poster.
"Ah, Grandmére," she spoke to the dark haired woman-child who shone with a light that seemed to come from the pureness of her beauty and the voice that quietly trickled from the image, "There is so much to ask you…"
Rain's hand scribbled furiously over the parchment in front of her as her eyes darted back and forth from the books scattered around her on the tabletop. She had somehow acquired a table all to herself in the library, a rarity that never seemed to happen to her. At the moment, she was hard-pressed for some privacy, just to sort her thoughts and was pleased that the world seemed to be working her way, even for just a moment. A small smile twitched the side of her lips then dropped as a familiar figure dropped down into the chair next to her.
"Ah, there's me pretty Rain. How are you doing this fine day?" Seamus' rakish smile shone over to her as his voice quietly met her ears. Holding back a sigh, Rain managed to work up the smile that had fled from her lips so quickly before. This certain Gryffindor never lacked in any ways to annoy her, even though it never seemed as if he were trying to achieve that end. In fact, she mused that his goals were probably the complete opposite…
"Hi Seamus. You actually decided to grace the library with your presence for once?" Rain's cheeky grin brightened for a moment before dimming as he leaned towards her and peered at her books. She had an urge to slam them shut and push her papers in her bag, but managed to hold herself back as his eyes skimmed the pages that contained her handwriting. Leaning back in her chair, she managed to gain a bit more distance between them, but he only moved his chair closer.
Holding back a growl, she gritted her teeth, "Ok, that's enough of prying into my papers. If you want to cheat off of someone, why don't you just go peer over Neville's work?" Her head tilted slightly to the side, gesturing to the quiet and fastidious boy studying on the other side of the library.
"He isn't as pretty as you are, though," Seamus moved his hand quickly and pulled the paper she was working on towards him. His smile broadened as his eyes scanned the lines that she had delicately written on the piece of parchment.
" 'It was then that the young ingenue realized that the phantom was not as he appeared. He was perhaps only lonely, a forgotten piece of time whose fate had been cruelly dealt to him. A genius whose work would never be seen by the light of day, who reveled in the darkness of the caverns that were his lair…' My, my, this is quite a bit different from your normal works."
"Professor Ecking told us to research the tragedy of L'Opéra Populaire today," Her mind worked over the emphasis that the professor had put on the word 'tragedy'. Yes, Professor Ecking was quite eccentric, but this topic had been on the forefront of her teaching ever since she had broached the subject two days ago. Rain shook off the thought that perhaps, Professor Ecking thought that this knowledge was needed, "I figured the romantic approach would appeal to her."
"Ever the Ravenclaw, will do anything to achieve the grade," Seamus shifted closer again, "Now, as to why I'm really here…"
Rain let out a fake gasp of horror and rasped out quietly, "You mean you aren't here to study!"
"Rain, Rain, Rain, you know there's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up…perhaps you would accompany me."
She rolled the suggestion over in her head and tried to figure out anyway she could refuse him. Perhaps she could say that there was a test she had to study for, all weekend. No, that wouldn't work, he knew how much she despised breaking up her weekends even for studying (her mother had always said it was very 'un-Ravenclaw' of her). Or she could just agree and fake a sickness on the day. No, no, no, no. He would just ask her out again. Maybe she should just get it over with…an inward groan threatened to escape up and out as she focused her eyes on Seamus and smiled gently.
"Ok, Seamus."
He seemed taken aback. Perhaps he had already braced himself for refusal, but that all disappeared as a grin flashed across his face, "Perfect. I'll meet you when we all are about to leave for the first day on Saturday morning." He slowly stood up and brushed his hand across her shoulder in a quick good-bye.
Rain pulled her papers back towards herself and sighed to herself, 'What am I getting myself into?'
A lonely figure stood outside the opened door of the large practice room, taking in the posters, still bright after time, though muted in the darkened room. He quietly watched the figure sitting at the desk, rifling through papers, before his eyes moved to the poster that that same figure had spoken to days before. A frown crossed his face as his eyes bore into the graceful figure that was elegantly displayed across the canvas of the ancient poster. She had lived happily then, had children and seen her line had stayed at their musical roots.
And then she had died.
He wondered if she had forgotten him.
Erik had yet to adjust to this strange place and time, but being so acquainted with secrecy and hiding as he was, he was able to steal a few books here and there, and they had made a little leeway in explaining everything to him. They were witches. And wizards, he supposed, and everything was coming to the apex of a great war. Many were tense and from the books he had gained that this war would not only affect this world, but that of what they called 'muggles', also.
Would he be considered one of the 'muggles'? Or maybe he would be considered something much worse. An ogre perhaps. His lips twitched at the thought.
In an instant, his mind changed course and flowed smoothly to the thoughts of those he had observed. That young girl, with dark hair and bright jade eyes, had potential. She certainly had the driving ambition that the one he had once tutored, had never gained, even after years of teaching. Where Christine had preferred to wait her turn, Erik had a feeling that this…now what was her name again? Ah, Rain, she would take the spotlight she felt she deserved. She was one that knew her own worth, and vaguely reminded him of someone. Quite an annoyingly nagging thought it was.
A wry smile twisted his lips as he pinpointed the memory.
He walked away and turned a corner with that same smile on his face.
'Ah, what a cruel mistress fate can be.'
AN: Ok, my french is a little awkward since I haven't spoken it or learned it on a regular basis in over three years, so if any corrections are needed, please inform me! I did the best I could from memory and help online.