Disclaimer: I don't own The Phantom of the Opera in any way. I do own the plot of this story, the character Danielle, and the Original London Cast Recording, which rocks my socks.

A/N: It is amazing the way time flies. It seems like yesterday I was posting chapter eighteen. I guess it is true that junior year is the busiest year of high school. Today, I checked my in-box and got my first cussing for not updating quickly. So, I give you chapter nineteen to avoid giving a certain vampire a heart attack (and because I'm a little afraid of her). Anywho, here is the next installment of the saga of Danielle D'Aroi, beautiful singer, and Erik, the incredibly hot phantom.

Chapter Nineteen: A Tragic Tale Begun

Christine

"What," the girl asked delicately, stepping over the subject the way one would step over broken glass, "could you have to discuss with me."

"Mademoiselle, you are in the presence of a cold-blooded killer," Raoul declared triumphantly. Danielle didn't even blink. This had not been the wanted reaction, so Raoul decided to expand his accusation, believing that Danielle was too slow to understand it the first time. "That masked villain, the Phantom of the Opera himself, is not only a murderer, but a kidnapper, a blackmailer, and a torturer. He is dangerous, Mademoiselle, and we warn you because we have seen him at work."

"You have," she repeated tonelessly, with a slightly distant look in her cool gray eyes.

"We have," Raoul confirmed. "We have even been his victims, and perhaps his most grievously scarred victims because he attempted to crush our love with his own tyrannical fixation. When Christine was only a child, the death of her father left her an orphan. She was brought here by the ballet mistress, who was an old friend of her father's. She was taught to dance by Madame Giry during the day, and to sing by the Phantom at night. He knew that she had no parents to care for her, so he took advantage of her vulnerability and innocence. He did not appear to her, but threw his voice so she could hear him as clearly as you hear me now, as if he were some guiding spirit.

"Christine's father had told her stories when she was a child. Their favorite character had been the Angel of Music, who would speak to children, giving them prodigious musical talent. Charles, her father, had told her while he was on his deathbed that he would send her the Angel of Music after he died. The Phantom," he said, indignantly, "told my wife that he was that promised Angel, and she believed him with all her heart, since she was a child and, therefore, rather credulous.

"He made her voice unearthly, but he had also planted himself within her mind, trying to make her obey his every command, no matter how great or small. Meanwhile, he plotted to make her his bride.

"He is very ugly, Mademoiselle. He is so ugly that even his mother couldn't love his face." Here, Christine noticed a definite flash of anger in Danielle's eyes. This ire was rather difficult to logically explain. Was it resentment that the Phantom had never told her of this deformity, or did she feel insulted on the Phantom's behalf? If she was angry because of the former, the girl was a dunce. If it was because of the latter, she was extraordinary.

"He ended up in some gypsy carnival," Raoul continued with a much more compassionate voice, very aware that he was, in fact, speaking of the treatment of a human being. "He was being displayed like some freak of nature. People paid a few centimes to see him beaten." Now the gray-eyed soprano was definitely furious and, from the size of her eyes, shocked that someone would treat him so badly for so little. Christine's notion that Danielle was extraordinary was confirmed in this reaction; she had been offended just now when Raoul called the Phantom ugly.

"Madame Giry was a ballerina then, and unmarried. She saw the 'show,'" he added with a disgusted tone, "and helped him escape. He was just a child. She didn't think he was more than ten years old.

"He began to live in the cellars of the opera house. He learned it like the back of his hand, and then he began to manipulate the people in it, as well as the building itself. Once he had grown, he demanded a private box and twenty-thousand francs a month for the 'advice' he would give concerning the performances. If the managers didn't follow his commands to the letter, he would make something terrible happen," Raoul said ominously. "Backdrops would fall in the middle of rehearsal, things would go missing, props would be damaged. Sometimes people would end up hurt or frightened out of their wits."

And so it went. Raoul didn't leave out a single detail of their acquaintance with the Phantom of the Opera. While he was telling the tale, Christine stayed out of it. She just couldn't bring herself to help do this to her former mentor, even if she did think that the girl had a right to know who her teacher was. Instead of saying a word, she studied the Phantom and the girl in turn.

There wasn't much to see as far as the Phantom was concerned. At some of the most disturbing parts, he would turn around apprehensively to catch a glimpse of Danielle's reaction, and then go back to his previous position of abject despair. As for Danielle, there wasn't much to see, either, but it was that fact that had left Christine so perplexed. She never flinched once. She never even moved a muscle. She asked no questions. Nothing betrayed her emotions in any way whatsoever. If Danielle's eyes had not seemed so alert and attentive, Christine would have wondered if she had been transformed into a pillar of salt by simply listening to these terrible transgressions. Danielle was becoming more and more impressive by the second.

Once Raoul came to the end of his narrative, he said, "So, you see, Mademoiselle, you are in great danger. You must not trust this man, no matter how great his talent. He will only lead you to your destruction. I will see that you are free from him, forever."

"What do you plan on doing, Monsieur," Danielle queried with an enigmatically quirked eyebrow.

"I will call the gendarmes immediately and have him arrested," Raoul assured her.

"He will escape, Monsieur," she stated simply. Danielle walked over to the Phantom, turned him around, and said very plainly, more to him than to anyone else, "And I with him."

The Opera Ghost's head suddenly snapped up, so taken aback that he didn't notice a tear role down his exposed cheek. He looked down at her with absolute wonder, as if he had never seen anything so beautiful and fantastic throughout all of his life and did not expect that he would again. Clearly, he had not expected such a development.

"Mademoiselle D'Artoi," Raoul choked out, "do you have any idea of what you are suggesting?"

"Yes, I do," she answered, confidently. "He is my teacher and, above all, my friend. If he leaves, I go with him. And don't bother Madame Giry or the Persian for information of our whereabouts; they won't know."

"I just told you that he is a murderer," Raoul said with obvious exasperation, his face turning red with frustration and anger.

"You didn't tell me anything I didn't already know, or had not already surmised," Danielle told him, evenly.

"You already knew," the Phantom asked with a quavering voice, speaking for the first time since she had joined them.

"Of course, I knew. I'm not a fool," she muttered with a little hostility, though it was hard to tell exactly at whom the last sentence was directed. Christine had the distinct impression that it was meant for the benefit of both men.

"Pardon me," Raoul interjected, "but it is rather foolish to take voice lessons from a man you knew had killed before."

"Monsieur," Danielle said impatiently, "I have seen no reason at all not to trust him. He is a changed man. Undoubtedly, all of that business with you and your wife knocked some proper sense into him."

At this, she gave the Phantom an accusatory glare under which he looked appropriately ashamed. However, after she faced Raoul again, the Phantom returned to the dreamy, love-struck attitude he had taken upon hearing her come to his defense. Obviously, the girl had nothing to worry, unless she tried to run off with some man. That would definitely be a problem, but, from the looks of things, Christine didn't think it would be an issue.

"Monsieur le Vicomte," Danielle resumed, "if a man is to be judged, he must be judged by his peers. You are not his peer. You have no idea what it is like to be in his position. Do you know what it is to be spurned all of your life? To reach out for love from another human being and get kicked every time, instead? Do you know how it feels to be faced with the prospect of being alone and unloved for the rest of your life?"

Raoul had no answer for this rather significant question. He merely stared back at her, wishing he didn't have yield to her point, but mentally recognizing it as a fact all the same.

"I'm sure you understand loneliness and sorrow, Madame," Danielle acknowledged, "but you don't, Monsieur. I imagine that you got a taste of it while you believed that your wife was in danger, but you have never been as totally alone as he has. As I have," she added, quietly. "We weren't all born with silver spoons in our mouths, Monsieur, only you. He never had wealth and power as an advantage, nor a perfect nose and perfect cheeks to make people more sympathetic.

"In fact, no one is his peer. No human being is as tragic, as talented, as brilliant, or as inventive as he is. Therefore, no one, except God, has the right to judge him," she declared. "He deserves to live in peace because he truly has changed.

"How can you possibly know that," Raoul sputtered.

"He must have because I don't know the man you speak of," Danielle argued. The man I know isn't violent, or malicious, or deceitful. The man I have known for the last four months is kind, gentle (though a bit suspicious), witty (if a little morbid), amusing, charming, thoughtful, and incredibly over-protective (which I say in the most flattering sense). He has helped me in ways that I had never imagined he would when I first met him, and I don't just mean with my voice. He took me in when I didn't really have anywhere else to go. He was my friend when I had almost no one. I trust him with my life."

"It still doesn't change the fact that he treats the women he is in love with abominably," Raoul reasoned.

"Ah, Monsieur, I must correct you," Danielle cut in. "By saying that I should fear him because he treats the women he is in love with badly, you are implying that he is in love with me, but I can tell you with some amount of confidence that this particular assumption is unfounded."

The Phantom arched his eyebrows and crossed his arms, which made Christine giggle, momentarily drawing Danielle and Raoul's annoyed faces upon herself. Apparently, the Phantom wasn't as confident about his "lack" of love for the girl as she was.

"Still, Mademoiselle," Raoul said, addressing Danielle, "if you ever see his face, you won't be able to shake it off and say, 'He is my friend; it doesn't matter.'"

"Actually, she's already seen my face," the Phantom interrupted with great satisfaction, causing great consternation on Raoul's part. He seemed to relish her husband's discontent.

"I didn't see anything very disturbing about it," Danielle said with a shrug. "In fact, I'm quite used to it because he hardly wears his mask at all around me."

"I would still feel better about all of this, if I knew that he was in jail where he couldn't do anymore harm," Raoul grumbled.

"Monsieur, you owe him too much to throw him to the gendarmes," Danielle avowed, looking almost amused by the idea, as if she were privy to some mystifying secret that no one else in the room knew. It looked like her teacher didn't understand either.

"What do you mean?"

"Monsieur, did you say you became reacquainted with Madame la Vicomtesse after her debut as the leading soprano?" Raoul nodded. "Who do you think was responsible for that debut? If he hadn't trained her, do you think that your wife would have gotten out of the chorus? Would you have noticed her if she hadn't?"

"I might not have," he reluctantly agreed. "But he wasn't all that benevolent," he said, his voice gaining strength. "He almost didn't let Christine go."

"But he did let her go," Danielle pointed out. "He did let her go with you…but he didn't have to. If he were the heartless man you would like to believe him to be, he would have killed you and taken her without a thought. A man in desperate solitude would do anything to have company," she said, sounding as if she was speaking from experience, "even if it means making the woman he loves miserable. He had the power to end his seclusion. He had you in a corner that you couldn't get out of, but he chose to show you mercy, even when she had agreed to become his wife. Even after she swore by her salvation that she would be his, he let you both go," she said emphatically. "And what do you think caused this change? A kiss on the forehead and a few tears for him. No, he is not a monster. And you owe him your happiness," she concluded. "What are you going to do?"

"We're going to leave," Christine answered for him. Raoul was about to protest, but his wife silenced him. "We're going to leave them alone, and I don't want to hear another word about it. All of your arguments have been exposed as faulty." She went to the door, opened it, and called out to her husband, "If you want to stay, you will walk home because I'm taking the carriage right now."

Raoul finally left with a little, agitated bow, leaving them alone. Christine only hoped they would figure out how much they loved each other soon. It would be so nice to know that her former teacher would have a happy ending.

A/N: A centime one one-hundredth of a franc. One dollar would equivalent to about five francs, so one cent was equivalent to about five centimes. If you allow for inflation, you can see that Erik may have been "viewed" for as little as half-a-penny per person, usingthe current rate of American currency. I can't really give details to people who don't go by one of those two currencies.

A/N: I hope you all picked up on the fact that, in my version of the story, I decided that Christine and Raoul did not know Erik's name, like in the ALW musical. I'm a little offended that ALW didn't use his name because it is dehumanizing, but I kept it because it makes Danielle even more special, since she actually cared enough to learn his true identity.

A/N: Obviously, I was going with the Leroux version of "The End of the Ghost's Love Story." I find it very touching.