Author's Note: Finally, Chapter Three is here! Don't hurt me, don't hurt me. I tell you now that this is the second and final draft for the chapter. There was a first, but it was really off-point. So I had to have another go at this Chapter. At first I thought I had been plagued with Writer's Block (at the obviously wrong time), but I seem to have broken through it. The Chapter wouldn't be up if I hadn't.

I must say Thank-You to all of my reviewers for the last chapter... how about personal thanks?

Miss Michelle: Michelle, I'm glad you like it. I'll make sure you'll know of this chapter before I write the next one.
weaslygurl4: Keri! It's a good thing that you can understand it even if you haven't read the book. I have to tell you though, you may have to read it eventually. Or very soon, for that matter. xP
Galasriniel: I wonder if you'll consider the ending to this Chapter a cliffhanger... if it is, it's a very minor one. I did try to fight the power, I did. -
atheshar: You've caught on! gives you a rose with a white ribbon We'll see how he handles it. ;)
Misty Breyer: I'm glad you're interested. There's no way I won't continue. D
AmandaTheVampireLove: I've updated! Sorry if it seemed like it was a long time... only a day, but... I couldn't get my thoughts in order yesterday. I think this Chapter's much better than it's first draft. If you read that, you'd think I fell on my head. ponders Can I eat the s'more instead? xP
oMAo: I'm glad you like the humor. I think it runs in the family:)
Grace (E.L) : I'm glad you like it. You must know that the fact that you recently asked me if I was writing anything inspired me to write this fanfiction. -

And a big thanks and -sends virtual hug- to all my reviewers for the first Chapter who I did not manage to Thank personally previously. If you keep reading, you're bound to get a special thank-you spot! ♥

Now... onto the Chapter. Quite a few things are revealed... Enjoy!

KATHERINE AWOKE…

the next morning, dazed from a night riddled with dreams of mysteriously long corridors that seemed to lead to the center of the earth, and a certain purple toe. She did not manage, at first, to register where exactly she was. It only took a second, and, rubbing her eyes, she blamed her confusion on the busy afternoon she had the day before, which probably also contributed to the unexplainably odd dreams.

Her sleepiness seemed to act, as a cloud over her eyes, and all Katherine wanted to do was pull up the bed covers and sleep the day away as she often did on weekends. The cloud, however, seemed to thin as the Parisian sunrise leaked softly into her room from a small bay window. It crept towards her silently, willing for her to get up out of bed, or else it would be forced to pull her out on its own.

Katherine sighed. No matter the hour, and no matter how much older she got, getting out of bed in the morning was a fighting matter. "I forfeit," she muttered, kicking of the covers. The soft tick of an almost ancient family heirloom – a pocket clock that was sitting comfortably on the desk across the room- prompted her to check the hour. 'It's not that late,' she thought, 'I could still sneak into bed.'

But no – the sun was rising, and the warmth had already gone out from the bed covers. There was no other option but to start the day.

Katherine went over to the foot of the bed and reached for the two poor suitcases she hadn't even bothered to unpack, except to find her nightgown, and threw them on the bed. Opening them required more than two fingers, but it hardly seemed difficult to her anymore. She placed all the squeezed in clothing on the bed, and chose something warm enough to wear and work in. Today the managers and Madame Giry would meet with her to discuss the scene painting plans and et cetera. That, however, wasn't supposed to happen until exactly noon. There were hours until then, and Katherine couldn't decide how to spend her morning. Sitting by the bay window, she noticed that the Opera House had a small garden surrounding the far side of the building. She hadn't known the House had any gardens, let alone a small one.

'There we go,' she whispered, 'a perfect way to spend a morning.' Katherine slid over to the desk chair and grabbed her coat. Despite the welcoming sunlight, it was stilling winter, but not enough to mean that it was no longer it cold. As she clasped the last button of her coat shut, her hand went naturally into her coat pocket. A look of utter astonishment found itself plastered on Katherine's face as she patted all sides of the pocket, and then the other. Something very valuable was missing from her possession.

"Where is my notebook!"

Katherine's shocked whispered traveled down through the floorboards, through the next few floors, past the Opera's auditorium, to the very catacombs of the Opera, where it reached the lair of an, at the moment, very amused Opera Ghost.

There the Phantom sat, amongst many candles, music sheets, and his Organ. He leaned back on his black couch, and curiously stroked the small book he was holding in his palm. He opened it to the first page and saw that the first page was dog-eared and covered in delicate, careful script. It read,

"The Personal Thoughts, Poetry, Ideas, Dreams, and Life of:

(At the moment) Mademoiselle Katherine Leroux."

Intrigued, the Ghost flipped to the next page to see that the first ten pages contained the young woman's biography, but he only scanned through that. There was nothing about learning architecture or design of the Opera, and only that at the moment was what he was after.

'Is she as talented as she says she is?' he wondered.

His eyes stopped on a page that was so dog-eared, it was obvious that she had returned to it often.

"I cannot sing as well as I would hope to, but I enjoy it nonetheless. I was never able to take lessons, in accordance to family circumstances, but no matter. I cannot dance, either. If it wasn't for my minor yet stiffening flaw, I am sure that would all be different. If only people would stop asking me as to why I walk on my toes…"

He paused. 'A flaw?'

When he had first seen the young woman enter the Opera, he was sure that she would be just another one of those chorus girls hoping for fame. And with the girl speaking so fondly of her "talents", he had expected that the she would resemble something of a female-fop. He had seen them often enough during his journeys around the world. Yet, it was odd for him to jump to such conclusions.

He continued to read,

"When I finally force myself to go to the Opera – for I just know that something truly remarkable will happen (though I'm no psychic), I want to explore as much as I can. I want to work hard enough to accomplish the things no one ever thought I would be able to do. I owe it to myself…"

He stopped. He hadn't exactly decided to rebuild the Opera House for the soul purpose of letting anyone assist him in doing it. And yet, he mused, perhaps this Katherine deserved a chance.

Closing the book, he decided that he would not return it – just yet. After all, he had reason to keep it. The girl had taken one of his most valuable positions, so he had her most valuable possession. It made sense.

Getting up, he decided that he would see what the other Opera House inhabitants were up to.

Katherine had not gone to the Garden. She had spent the entire morning searching for her notebook. She had molded through every single coat, blouse, dress, or pants pocket. She had searched every compartment of both suitcases, under the bed, under the rugs, even in the desk compartments despite the fact she knew they were empty. She had even checked her boots.

The notebook was nowhere to be seen.

Katherine tried to catch the exact moment the book could have fallen out of her pocket. Suddenly, something clicked. When she had gone up the stairs of the Entrance Hall…

'That's it! That's the exact moment!'

But she remembered turning around, and there was nothing lying on the floor. Someone had obviously taken it. 'Stolen it.'

She sat on her bed, rubbing her temples, nearly worried out of her wits. In spite of it all, she checked her pocket clock. It was almost noon!

She couldn't look for it now, she would have to, later. There was no way she would miss her first important scene-painting assignment.

With that, she took off in the direction of the auditorium.

It was exactly noon when she reached the auditorium. She found Madame Giry and Monsieur Firmin standing in front of a large white sheet. Around them were many cans of different colored paint. Quickly muttering a hello, M. Firmin stated that M. Moncharmin had stayed home because of a "terrible headache".

Katherine saw when she looked up, that the sheet was already outlined with a forest-like scene.

"We figured you would like a guideline for the first scene," said Firmin.

"That is very generous, sir." Katherine smiled, looking at the large sketch.

"Along with that," said Madame Giry, "here is a description of what the scene looks like. Don't forget to use your imagination." She handed over a sheet of paper with a few main points, the setting, and what the feel of the scene was supposed to be like.

They both patted on Katherine's back, and said a "Good luck." Katherine nodded, slightly apprehensive.

M. Firmin turned around, before getting off of the stage, and said, "You have about a week to finish this scene. You can do it in portions if it would be more useful."

"Thank you, sir." Katherine said, nodding.

Katherine grabbed the ladder she had seen near the stairs and brought it up to where the scene sketch was. Carefully, she adjusted the canvas so that it was straight. She stood back, and realized that the sketch needed a little fine-tuning. She grabbed a big paintbrush and went over to the can with black paint. With big strokes, she began to sketch in the foreground of the scene. It was a good thing that the ground around her was covered, for paint was dripping off of the brush.

From his Box in the audience, a shadow saw that the young woman was using overly large stokes that were somewhat unnecessary for such a scene.

'Oh, no,' he said, his nostrils fuming slightly, 'That is not how it's supposed to look.'

He made his way out of his box to get closer to the stage.

'This will simply not do.'

Second Author's Review: There we go! evil laugh I must say that I do not know whether or not our great Gaston had any relatives by the name of Katherine...but, well, you'll see. It's all a part of the story! And what exactly is Katherine's flaw? You'll have to keep reading to find out! Don't forget to review... puppy dog eyes The next Chapter shall be up soon.

waves- Goodnight.