A/N: I must apologize; I got so caught up in work last night that I completely forgot to post! Until I woke up this morning and felt something was missing.

So... Chapter 63. It rounds off the Christine storyline with a nice happy ending, as per my usual style. I almost teared up while writing the last bits (in italics), because I'm a sappy fool like that, haha! I hope you like this chapter. After this, there are just two epilogue chapters, and then it will be the end of this story (:

Skyila: I thought Erik-Amelie interaction in the previous chapter was cute too, hehe!

Masked Man 2: I loved writing the little party in the end! It felt like such a nice round-up to all the hustle and bustle... and as usual, Reyer aims to please (;

TierneyMacDonald: Haha, I'm glad the story is giving you such feels! :D

marial0789: -passes tissue over hehe-

lydia: Thank you!

Guest: You're welcome! I did love the house gathering scene too!

MarieCP: I'm so glad you enjoyed the story, it means a lot to me!

PumpkinKitten: Well, then I'm glad I brought my point across in the story! (Which was to not hate Christine). I think I didn't want to write Christine as a hateful character haha, because I'm such a sucker for happy endings. Thank you for the compliments, I'm happy that you liked the story (:

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Chapter 63: Christine as La Daae

Paris, 1900

"Christine Daae! There you are!" Meg ran up to her, all blond curls and messy skirts, and linked an arm through hers. "Why, congratulations!"

"Oh Meg," Christine said, her cheeks faintly red. "Has the news spread that fast, then?"

"Yes, indeed it has, if you possess my keen observational skills," said Meg airily. "Well, actually, I ran into Fleur, who looked as though she were about to keel over in a dead faint, so I asked her why, and she told me she was to be your understudy!"

Christine beamed. "Isn't that wonderful? Fleur has always had such a lovely voice, and now she will be able to train with me in private lessons with my Angel."

"Just think of it!" Meg said cheekily. "My best friend, the prima donna! Could you start throwing fits like Carlotta did and demand for more chocolates? You know Maman is always so miserly about the sweets the ballet rats are allowed to eat."

"I could, if you want Erik to throw me out of the opera house like he did Carlotta," Christine rolled her eyes at Meg. "I wonder what happened to her."

"Oh she's singing in some small, unknown opera house somewhere in Italy, I expect." Meg shrugged her shoulders. "Or whoever would want to take her in, diva that she is."

Someone called Meg's voice from behind, and she turned around, her cheeks turning an unusual shade of red. Christine looked too, and she giggled a little. Audric was walking quickly from behind to catch up with them, his violin case and scores in his arms.

"Meg!" He said delightedly. "Have you just finished ballet practice?"

"Yes," she dimpled prettily. "Shall we take a walk about town?"

"Oh, do go on," said Christine dryly, "I'm not even here."

Audric turned a bright shade of red. "I'm so sorry, Christine…"

"I'm only teasing," she laughed. "Have fun, then! I shall be heading back to the practice rooms to get a head-start on my songs."

Christine hummed softly to herself as she walked through the corridors of the Palais Garnier, her scores clutched in one hand. She opened the door to the music room that she had used to practice in with her Angel, and arranged the scores neatly on a stand.

"Congratulations, Christine," came a disembodied voice from within the walls.

Christine jumped a little in shock. "Oh, Angel! I did not know you would be around!"

"I came here in the hopes of seeing you here," he informed her. "And it seems you did come here to practice after all."

She smiled. "I do like to sing in this room. It reminds me of the times when you had to hide behind the walls just to teach me."

"Shall we have another lesson now?" He asked gently. "One last lesson, before I have to start giving both you and Fleur lessons together. Just for old times' sake."

"I would love to," she agreed happily. "Though it would really be easier if you were in this room as well."

He chuckled, and then there was silence. After a few minutes, the door to the room clacked open, and her Angel stepped in, pulling his hat off his head and dusting off his cloak.

"Do not expect me to be easy on you just because this is our last private lesson together for the time being," he warned.

"I would be horrified if you were," Christine replied sweetly.

And he was not. As usual, her teacher was hard and forbidding during the lesson, strict with his criticism of her singing, yet detailed and helpful with his advice. Christine sang with a happy heart, feeling both nostalgic and contented at the same time. It had been a long time since their regular lessons of the past, and it was just marvellous to be able to have a lesson without having to hide.

At the end of it all, Christine was quite breathless. She stood and packed up her scores. "Thank you for the lesson, Angel."

"You are most welcome, Christine," he said solemnly. "You will always be my favourite student."

"You mean the one who gave you the most trouble," she said mischievously. "I daresay you will never forget all that."

But then she sobered. "Imagine if I had not changed my way of thinking about you, Angel. Imagine if I had continued to be horrified of you, and shunned you from the start. We would never be here today."

"Then I am lucky to have you as a student," Erik said, "for you managed to conquer your own fears and accept me as a teacher."

Christine wrinkled her nose. "I am lucky to have you as a teacher. And look at us now! I can hardly believe that I will stand on the stage as the prima donna in Die Fledermaus. A few months back, it would have been a laughable idea, indeed."

Her Angel's mouth twitched in the semblance of a smile. "I have come to realize, Christine, that such laughable ideas are often very achievable and should not be easily discarded as ridiculous. When I was a child, any sort of life beyond that of the shadows and the night was but a mere fantasy for me. But here I am, talking to you, and here I am, with an actual job that I love. It feels like a dream."

"Then I hope you never wake up from it," Christine whispered. "I hope this lovely dream lasts for a long, long time."

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After his lesson with Christine, Erik walked out of the opera house and leaned against the wall next to the back door, his hands in his pockets and his fedora pulled low over his face. It was a chilly evening, and he huddled closer in his coat.

The door opened several times as employees bustled out on their way home before the sun set. Erik greeted them all politely, exchanging a few words with some of them.

"Monsieur!" A melodious voice called out to him, and he turned his head to see Fleur standing before him, a bright smile upon her face. "Good evening!"

"Hello Fleur," he said pleasantly. "Are you on your way home?"

"Yes," she said. "I live just five minutes away from here, so I do not stay in the dormitories. Are you waiting for Amélie, monsieur?"

He nodded and she grinned. "You two make such a lovely picture, if I do say so, monsieur," she giggled. "Well, I'll be off now! I'll be practising hard!"

She curtsied and skipped off. Erik smiled a little. They had come a long way. When he had first started out working in the Palais Garnier, Fleur had been too frightened to even tell him her name. Now, she managed to speak with him as though they were acquaintances, and was even a little mischievous sometimes. Perhaps she was spending a little too much time in the company of Christine and Meg, and their precocious behaviour was rubbing off onto her.

"Monsieur," a very familiar voice called out, and Erik turned to see Amélie, who had just opened the door. She raised her eyebrows at him. "Having an affair already, are we?"

He scowled at her, and she laughed, bounding down the stairs to give him a kiss. "I was teasing."

"You'd better have been," he warned, pulling her close and kissing her firmly. "The gall of you to even suggest such a thing. Come on now, we will be late for dinner with the daroga if we do not hurry. We still need to buy some bread."

She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow affectionately, and the two began a slow walk into town to the bakery, then to hail a carriage to bring them back home. It was such routine behaviour for them now. The two would ride to the Palais Garnier early in the morning for their daily practices and rehearsals, and then make the trip back home together at the end of the day. It felt like a perfectly lovely routine, and Amélie loved to see the sun moving slowly across the sky in a large amber ball of light as they sat in the moving carriage and talked about their day.

"I'll wager that Christine is excited about her debut as prima donna in the new production," Amélie said conversationally. "Are you not excited? The two of you had a shared dream, and it is finally happening at last. Your protégée is on stage as prima donna, and you, monsieur, are a celebrated composer."

"She is excited, and so am I." He smiled. "I have heard that La Sorelli will be retiring soon, though. Is that true?"

Amélie nodded. "Yes, I should believe so. Sorelli has made enough money off her wealthy 'gentleman friend', and intends to buy a little home in the countryside where she can retire in peace and he can visit frequently. She has been prima ballerina for many years, after all. She should have retired earlier, but I suppose with all the scandal about the Opera Ghost and such, she did not want to bring it up with the managers. I'll miss her so, Sorelli was always a dear."

"Meg will be the new prima ballerina," Erik said certainly. "I cannot think of a better choice."

Amélie laughed. "You sound like the Opera Ghost again. 'Make Meg the new prima ballerina, or else.'"

"She is one of the best, if not the best ballerina in the ballet de corps. She deserves the position," Erik pointed out. "I shall merely… how shall I put it… suggest to Belcourt and Antoinette that Meg should be given the role. I'm sure they shall have no reason to think otherwise."

They had arrived back home, and Erik helped Amélie down from the carriage. The two made dinner together in the kitchen, chopping carrots and potatoes and vegetables. The only sounds in the warm kitchen were the bubbling of the stew in the pot on the stove, the thudding of the knives on the chopping board, and Erik humming melodies as he chopped methodically. Amélie tried to join in on the harmony as always, and managed to make a garbled mess out of the song, giggling as she did so. Erik chuckled warmly beneath his breath at her attempts.

It was a bit of a rush, but between the two of them, they managed to toss up a salad of fresh greens, along with a hearty stew filled with potatoes, carrots and onions, and crusty baguettes warmed up in the oven just as the doorbell rang.

"Will you get that, Erik?" Amélie asked, wiping her hands on a tea-towel and removing her apron. "I shall set the table!"

Erik nodded acquiescingly, and made his way out of the house into the garden, spotting the daroga, who was waiting behind the front gate. The daroga's mouth quirked up in a smile the moment he spotted Erik.

"I see you have traded in your usual black fashions for something new," he told Erik, the mirth visible in his eyes. Erik looked down at himself and almost choked—he had forgotten to remove his apron, and was now standing in his garden in a frilly apron printed with large flowers. Cheeks burning red, he quickly ushered the daroga into the house before any of his neighbours spotted him.

"There you are, Nadir!" Amélie called out warmly from the dining room. "Come on in, dinner's almost ready!"

The daroga followed Erik into the dining room, where Amélie was laying out bowls and cutlery. He handed her a bouquet of roses and baby's breath, and a box of cakes.

"Oh, you didn't have to!" Amélie exclaimed, accepting the gifts. "Thank you, Nadir. We shall have these cakes for dessert, then. Erik, do be a dear and put these flowers into a vase."

After Erik left the room, Nadir laughed. "I'd never thought I'd see the day Erik was domesticated. But you've got him well-trained, haven't you, Amélie? Now tell me… are there children on the horizon?"

It was Amélie's turn to flush red. "Not yet, I should think… but perhaps soon. I would like a little girl or boy with Erik's features. All that black hair and those green eyes!"

Nadir smiled gently. "Soon, probably. It would be nice to have some children to fuss over again. I haven't been near children since… well, since Reza."

"You shall be godfather to our child," Amélie told him. "There can be no other person."

Erik returned then, with the roses in a vase. He placed the vase on the table and eyed the two suspiciously. "What have the two of you been up to, then?"

"Nothing at all," Amélie beamed innocently. "Let us all have dinner, shall we?"

Dinner was a warm affair, with Nadir's odd jokes and Erik's sarcastic replies. The banter between the two had never changed throughout all the years they had known each other. Amélie ate contentedly as she listened to the two make friendly jibes at each other.

"Will you be there at the debut of Die Fledermaus?" Erik asked, spearing a piece of potato on his fork.

The daroga nodded, chewing thoughtfully. "To hear Christine Daae on stage? Wouldn't miss it for the world, indeed. It will be wonderful to see the child finally shine in her rightful position on stage. I'll be there, Erik."

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The day of the debut of Die Fledermaus rolled about soon enough. The rooms backstage were a complete mess, for the day was not only to be La Daae's debut as prima donna, but also La Sorelli's final performance as the prima ballerina of the Palais Garnier. Both were hurriedly helped into their costumes, while the costume mistresses made final touches and adjustments to the way the trains on their gowns fell, or the way ribbons were stitched.

Erik side-stepped the stagehands who were rushing about the corridors, bringing small props hurriedly to the stage. He entered the main waiting area of the performers, and spotted Sorelli and Christine sitting together on a divan, adjusting their costumes.

"Mesdemoiselles," he said gallantly, producing two roses which he handed to them. "I look forward to seeing a brilliant performance."

Sorelli tittered playfully and lifted the rose to her lips flirtatiously. "Why, thank you, Monsieur Chevalier! I'm sure I'll dance my very best, after seeing you this very evening!"

Christine smiled up at her Angel. "Thank you. I will not disappoint you."

He nodded at her approvingly, and left. As he walked away, Christine heard a little voice whisper in her ear, "I know you will do very well. Have confidence, Christine." She smiled, knowing that it was him.

The bell that chimed the start of the performance came soon enough. Christine gripped the rose tightly in her hands one last time, and pressed it to her lips for luck. Sorelli gave her a charming smile, as Christine managed a small smile at her before she stood and walked toward the curtains that led to the stage.

She stepped onto stage, knowing that this was at last her chance to shine. As the stagehands on the catwalks adjusted the lights and beamed the spotlight onto her, she lifted her hands, took a deep breath, and began to sing.

Can you hear me now, Papa? Can you hear me? It is Christine, your daughter.

Papa, you once told me I would stand on the stage of the Palais Garnier as the prima donna.

It was a dream I thought would never happen, papa. Not with the previous overbearing prima donna, and the fact that I was to be part of the ballet de corps. I could barely even sing properly without crying, the first few months after you left me.

And then, papa, I met my Angel of Music. Do you remember? You used to tell me those stories when I was a child. You promised that the Angel of Music would come to me, and that he would bring my voice to the greatest heights.

And yet, the Angel of music who appeared to me was not what I'd expected at all. He was but a human man, and a flawed one at that, not the perfect Angel I'd expected.

It matters not to me now, though. For he was and will always be my Angel of Music, my beloved teacher.

I brought him to meet you one day. Did you see him? He had such a fight with Raoul, papa, and I was so upset that day. You remember Raoul, don't you? For a long time, Raoul was at odds with my Angel of Music, but now, at last, we have all reconciled.

I could not be happier.

And finally, papa, I am on that stage. The stage we both dreamed I would stand on one day.

You always called me your little songbird, papa. It was your little nickname for me, for you said my voice reminded you of the brilliant tunes of larks.

Today, that songbird stands on the stage of the finest opera house in Paris, singing for crowds to hear, and singing for you. Today, that songbird finally soars on wings grown.

Can you hear me, papa?

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A/N: -sniff- Please do leave a review to let me know what you think! (: xx hazel