A/N: Hey y'all. You probably don't recognize me since I hang out in Spiderman most of the time. But yeah. This is my first POTO fic and I hope it'll turn out as good as it is in my head. Enjoy!

Chapter one - Forgetting the Past

Madam Giry walked alone down the cobblestone road. Late night fog had set in and consumed the hem of her dress as she went along. She couldn't bare to see the little boy she had helped way back when be slaughtered by the hunters that went down after him with guns and knives. She knew she had to do something to save Christine, but Giry couldn't help but feel guilty for giving the man his death sentence. She had seen him back at that gypsy circus being tortured before audiences. And all because one side of his face was deformed. She had never learned his name, he never learned her name, and she had never heard a word from him, but the frightened breath and bloody gashes on his back won her pity. She had wanted to protect him from all the cruelty and save him all the pain that he would endure.

Madam Giry made it to a city bench and sat down. She had lead the very ones he was afraid of right to him. How could she be so heartless? How could she betray him like that? She covered her eyes with one hand as a tear fell. Shehad been the source of his murder, she was acting as one of them; and, in all reality, she was no better than that gypsy who had beaten him years ago.

A couple men burst out of the opera house light streaming into the dark street. They argued a bit but then made their way down the side of the road hastily. She could recognize them now, Andre and Firmin. She stood to meet them.

"Where's the body?" She asked standing in front of them.

"There is no body." Firmin replied with a angered sniff. "The old devil got away."

"But don't worry Madam Giry, we'll get him eventually. He can't hide forever," Andre chimed in with a smile as the two trudged on past her. Madam Giry wiped a tear away and hurried into the opera house.

They hadn't found him? He was still alive? She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried. If they found him again, this whole cycle would start over. She wasn't sure if he could take it. But even so, there wasn't much she could do about it. He was, after all, forty something - not that poor, defenseless child she had met before. The best thing she could do for him now was to pretend like nothing happened.

OOOOO

Down under the opera house, the phantom's lair was now ransacked. Tables had toppled over, his numerous candles that had brought him light were broken and ground into the floor. A shape emerged from the shadows of the room. It crept across the scenery, barely having enough light to see.

Maskless and now drenched with water from his hiding place, the phantom perused what was left of his home. Everything he worked at collecting to make this dungeon remotely welcoming was now trashed. He bent over and lifted up a music box with a Persian monkey atop it struggling a few last notes. A cymbal was missing and the other was cracked and the box was more apart than together. One of the arms had been torn off but its giddy, ironic smile still shone out of the nearly severed head.

He had lost everything. Not only his home, but Christine whom he had obsessed over since she had moved into the labyrinth. Even his mask was missing. It was possible that one of them had tucked it under their coat for a suvinior. All had gone back to the way he had come.

The phantom set his favorite chair back on its feet and sank into it. What could he do now? What had he done before he met Christine? Worked on operas, inventions, his home, other things he guessed. But since the fiery love between him and Christine, nothing seemed to measure up to it. He had believed that she might have fallen for him and that he wasn't just carrying on a one sided love; it didn't help that she went perfectly along with it. Though in the end he truly saw that it was, undoubtedly, a one sided love. Unfortunately, Christine would forget about it, get married to Mr. Prince Charming, become Mrs. Prince Charming, and have perfect little children who would accompany them to the opera to see their mother sing. Their life would end happily. His, though, would end in an entirely different manner.

OOOOO

Madam Giry flowed into her room and shut the door. It must have been at least two in the morning already and she was tired. She walked over to her small dresser equipped with mirror and let her hair down. She then began unbuttoning her blouse mechanically staring into the mirror. Her dress was only a little torn at the edges and burnt from the chandelier crash which wasn't bad considering the damage it could have done to her person. She hadn't been told if Christine had made it out fine. Poor child, hopefully she would be alright.

Something sent shivers up Madam Giry's neck. Someone–something was watching her undress. It was a fearful sensation and she could even see a vague reflection of something in the corner of her room in her mirror. She spun around to look but the corner in which something watched was bare. The same wood and concrete she had always knew. A knock came on the door which almost spooked her again. She pulled on her robe, overlapped it - but didn't tie it - in the front and cracked the door just enough to see whom had come.

To her relief it was only Meg standing there and she let out her unknowingly held breath as she opened the door fully. "Meg. What brings you here?" Madam Giry asked.

"Mother, I–I heard something along the wall but couldn't see what. The noise was only for a little while, but it scared me so," Meg explained speeding up her breathing. "You–you think it's him? You think he's back?" She put her hand to her mouth.

Madam Giry shook her head silently. "No my dear. The noise which frightened you was merely a mouse. Do not worry," she assured her. Meg didn't seem convinced. "The phantom isn't here. We're safe." She smiled at her daughter compassionately. Meg sighed and closed her eyes.

"I'm just a little worried that he'll come back. With the way he took Christine away, I–I–" She couldn't continue and Madam Giry took this opportunity to put her arm around Meg.

"Hush, hush. He is gone for good. No need for fear." Madam Giry reassured her. Meg smiled.

"Alright."

"Now get to bed. It's late." She shooed her off and Meg walked back down the hallway contently. She gave a smile of thanks back to her mother as she went into her room. Madam Giry smiled back and went inside. She closed the door and got fully dressed into her night apparel. She pulled back the covers and climbed inside.

Meg heard something too? Was this just coincidence or was there truly something lurking? There couldn't be, she wouldn't lead herself to believe such lies. With that, Madam Giry closed her eyes refusing to think more on the matter. Even so, they didn't stay closed for long and she ended up staring at the ceiling in thought most of the night.

OOOOO

Raoul lifted his future wife out of the carriage and to his side. Christine put her arm around his waist and leaned her head on his chest unable to say anything. Raoul acknowledged this by bidding the coachman to drive on and leading her inside without removing her from him. Christine stumbled by his side not wanting to let go of him. Raoul closed the large, wooden door blocking out the cold foggy night. He set her down on a sofa to the side. Then he himself sat beside her.

"Raoul, I'm frightened. I don't know why. I just can't forget that face. And whenever I close my eyes, those piercing eyes are staring back at me. I–I can't let it go! Raoul, I–I don't know what to do," tears filled Christine's eyes as she struggled to speak again. "I don't know Raoul–" Raoul held her tight against and she hugged him closer.

"It's alright Christine, it's all over with. They hunted him down. He's not coming back...he's not coming back..." he coaxed her running his fingers through those brunet locks near her face. She continued to cry on him for a little while longer. Sometimes a person must just cry to flush out their system. Overdramatize it until it's washed dry. This is what Christine planned to do. Raoul recognized this and let her sob - besides, it was nice having her with him alone and sincere.

"Well," Raoul spoke up rubbing her shoulder. "It's all over now." Christine forced a smile. "Now is a happy time. We're going to be wed soon. Forget all of this. Forget all you've seen." he smiled at her and her smile became more heartfelt.

"Only another week," Christine whispered in his ear. "And then I will be your wife."

"Would you like to finish up the invitations that were hindered by the 'happenings'?" Raoul asked. Christine smiled and nodded her head.

They spent the next half hour writing invitations to the last few people who they desired to be at their wedding. They happily conversed on most any subject. The letters piled up, the candles they used near the floor melted down and dimmed. They finally fell asleep in the living room - Christine laying inside the curve of Raoul's body - on the couch. Everything from that night and before seemed to self-erase. No one thought of anything that had happened. Everyone seemed to forget completely about the phantom of the opera.

to be continued...

A/N: I don't know how many of you know this, but the line 'Forget all of this. Forget all you've seen.' is a direct quote from the ending scene in Phantom of the Opera when the phantom is giving up Christine to Raoul. I was kinda going for an ironic twist or something of the sort. Like Raoul was trying to do it better than the phantom or something. Just thought I'd mention that.