Author's Note: OK, mega chapter here. It's basically because I didn't want to break the flow of this one, and because I actually owe two double updates (ducks oncoming missile for lack of the extra chapter). Hope this makes up for it. Thanks again, and enjoy! Nedjmet.

AN: PS, this is the new and (hopefully) improved version of the chapter, if you're reading it for the second time. Enjoy! Nedjmet.

Chapter 46

They had spent the mornings working on Christine's part in Hannibal – or at least what her Angel insisted would be her part: the lead. He was more demanding than ever. He worked her harder than he had for the last concert, exercising her voice until she feared going hoarse, but the progress she was making was incredible. The duet and the gifts were not mentioned again, although Christine always wore the pendant to her lessons. Instead, there was an unspoken agreement that their relationship was not as formal now. Once he had finished teaching each lesson and was less inclined to snap, he now referred to her as his dear, and she always left him with a smile.

Christine had all but abandoned her former wardrobe. She was almost back to her old self – except for a couple of phobias – and she, like Madame Giry, gave a lot of credit to her mysterious tutor.

When she walked into her first class of the year – Vocal Performance – she actually managed to turn a couple of heads. As she took her place in the circle, Professor Gardiner had actually had to ask who she was; the change in her was so different. He began the lesson by introducing Hannibal yet again, and Christine couldn't help but notice the smug look on Carlotta's face. She hadn't heard anything out of the young diva since she'd been advised to apologise, neither had she made any fuss about the concert finale – very unlike her. Christine couldn't help but worry.

"Well, enough delays. We have a lot of work to do in the next few weeks, so I believe it's time to put you all out of your misery. The parts have been awarded as follows: Ubaldo Piangi as Hannibal," the class applauded whilst Piangi tried and failed to affect surprise as he bowed. "Elissa, Queen of Carthage and his mistress," a few giggles were silenced by Gardiner's stern glare. Christine held her breath, dreading this moment. "Elissa, Queen of Carthage will be played by Carlotta Guidacelli." Carlotta didn't bow as the majority of the class applauded. She instead soaked up their praise, smiling very smugly at Christine whose face had slipped back into its old unreadable mask.

She didn't hear the rest of the names being read out, although she knew that hers wasn't mentioned for any of the parts. That meant that she, like every other vocalist, was relegated to the chorus once again. Which meant they would no doubt have dancing classes to attend as well as all the others. Coupled with her lessons, she was going to be run ragged this term.

Her lessons.

Her Angel was going to be furious! She had not failed him; she knew that. He had praised her; he would not have done so if she had let him down. Carlotta must have gone back to her mother after the concert and together persuaded the board or the managers to grant her the lead, seeing as the Guidacelli name was more well known than that of Daaë. The Ravelle was a working theatre, and even though they only put on two major productions of their own a year – the concert didn't quite count – they prided themselves on always putting on sell out performances. Had they not given into the Guidacellis, they could have risked a boycott which even they could ill afford.

Whatever the reason, it didn't change the fact that her Angel was going to be outraged. They had been preparing her for the lead. They had covered the chorus parts before Christmas. He hadn't been as particular about the latter, having been intent on her receiving the main female role, so they had only served to familiarise her with the music.

The class soon began to split off into groups to go over their various parts, as had become their custom. So much for the first day back being easy. Professor Gardiner moved around each group, working with them where they needed help. This was to be their format for the rest of the week until rehearsals began in earnest. When he reached her group, Gardiner asked for Christine to stay behind after class.

Carlotta couldn't resist a sneer as she left. It was probably meant to be another self-satisfied grin, but it just didn't turn out that way.

They waited until the class had vacated the smaller theatre, she gathering her things together. When the place was finally empty, he led her to his office again. She could probably find her way blindfolded the number of times she felt she'd been there.

"Miss Daaë, I felt I should tell you: based on your performance in the concert, I was hoping to cast you in the lead, but my decision was overruled."

"Thank you, Professor Gardiner. I do appreciate that a lot." She replied, feeling somewhat easier about the conversation.

"I would have told you this in the theatre, but there is something else I wanted to discuss with you."

"Oh?"

"Miss Daaë, what do you know about the Opera Ghost?" He asked, leaning forward slightly, as though afraid of being overheard. Christine's mask slipped back into place.

"Only what I've heard." She replied honestly. She didn't know for certain that her Angel was the Ghost.

"Then you know we have a tendency to receive notes with that signature."

"Yes."

"We received one after the Christmas Concert. It isn't unusual to receive one detailing the errors of each performance, and . . . recommendations for the next."

"Recommendations?"

"More like instructions. Which are usually followed." He said with meaning.

"I understand. I'm sorry, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"The note we received after the Concert came with a particularly strong recommendation that you be cast in the lead." Christine's face paled. "The board and the managers have a few objections to the Ghost and his notes, and I'm afraid his unusually strong urgings in your favour, coupled with the recommendations of various of our patrons were what counted against you."

"Am I to understand by 'patrons' that you mean Luciana Guidacelli?" Christine ventured.

"I can't answer that." Gardiner replied, in a tone that confirmed the obvious.

"And you were wondering if I knew why the Ghost would take an interest in me." It wasn't a question. She wasn't stupid, and Gardiner had deliberately moved them out of the theatre for this, probably trying to move out of the Ghost's hearing range.

"Miss Daaë, I'm not implying anything. Your conduct – except for the minor incident with Miss Guidacelli – has been exemplary. Your progress is admirable and I could not have been more pleased with your performance at the Concert. You were my first choice for Elissa, and you still have my support."

"Thank you, Professor Gardiner. I do understand the board's position. I don't know why the Ghost has taken such an interest in me." Her reply tapered off a little as she suddenly thought of her current living arrangements. He considered her a few moments, waiting to see if anything else would be forthcoming. At length, he replied,

"Very well. If there's anything you can think of, will you tell me? I only ask out of concern. I am not normally one to believe in such stories and rumours, but the Ghost is not one to be taken lightly. If this interest he has taken in you remains, I'm not sure what it might mean, but I am worried." He elaborated, believing that there was still something.

"Madame Giry is looking after me, Professor, but I do appreciate your concern. I will come to you if anything turns up." She replied steadily. He regarded her a few moments more.

"Thank you, Miss Daaë." He said, letting her go at last.

Christine hurried away as discreetly as possible to her lesson. Preparations for rehearsals were in full swing and the theatre was bustling every moment of the working day. That would be the pattern until dress rehearsals when the pressure would be on and then quite a few members of the departments would be putting in some overtime as well. Christine had managed to find a back way into the building which would mean she could just about avoid notice.

"I do not believe even Gardiner is in the habit of allowing his classes to run so late." She wasn't even able to take her coat off before she was greeted, or rather, reprimanded.

"I'm sorry, my Angel. He wanted to talk to me after class."

"No doubt wishing to explain the lunacy of allowing that squawking banshee to pollute the stage again."

"He told me that he did want me to play Elissa, but-"

"But the Guidacellis believe they reign supreme in this Opera House." Christine didn't attempt to reply. He only interrupted her when he was in a particularly black mood. And he had never called the theatre an Opera House before.

"Do not worry, my dear. You will be playing the lead." He continued.

"Angel, if the board thinks-" she tried.

"They do not think! Or this would not have happened. The board cares more about publicity than music. They fail to realise that if they allow inferior performers to excel then they will only succeed in ruining the reputation they are so worried about." He snapped, turning the word 'performer' into a scathing insult, making it obvious who he was talking about.

"It's alright, my Angel. I know - I've met them." She said in what she hoped was a soothing voice. Perhaps now wasn't the best time to ask him to satisfy her suspicions.

"Of course, my dear. I should not be taking this out on you. Come, let us begin our lesson."

The lessons continued as usual that week. He did manage to get in a criticism of the management at each one, but Christine learnt to soothe him. Or at least she thought she did. In actual fact, it was mostly her presence that did that. When rehearsals began, surprisingly he calmed down. He only criticised the management when Christine mentioned them or if her day had been affected badly by their decisions. Strangely enough he never mentioned Carlotta, nor did Christine hear anything further on the matter, other than his reassurances that she would be playing the lead. Not that he was letting the matter lie.

However he intended to manage it, Christine prepared herself for both roles with equal fervour. Having had Madame Giry as a second mother and having been a part of many of Meg's practices, she had an ingrained talent for dancing that secured her one of the two lead slave girl roles. Meg took the other, and for anyone who thought it was a sign of favouritism that the Ballet Mistress' daughter be given the lead role, they soon changed their tune when they saw the perfection that was expected, not to mention the gruelling regime that came with the part. Christine's role did mean that she was a rather prominent performer, although otherwise undistinguished as a vocalist within the chorus.

Between her scheduled classes, the extra classes and rehearsals, Christine was usually exhausted by the time her lessons came around with her Angel, even more so than when they had been preparing for the concert. But there were few opportunities to relax even then: he was determined that she would not simply shine, she would triumph. Half the time, she didn't know if she could, his criticisms and demands seemed so severe and unforgiving. But then he would weave his magic, draw the music out of her and her faith would be restored. Whether it was in her Angel or herself, she could never tell. It didn't matter.

The case of the Ghost and his notes went ignored when it became apparent that nothing more was going to come of it. Carlotta managed to tease Christine at just about every opportunity she could get about her 'relationship' with the resident phantom, so Christine took care to make sure there were as few opportunities as possible. Her plan didn't quite work when things started going wrong for Carlotta. First her timetable was switched – she never bothered to learn it – so she kept showing up for the wrong classes, or if she managed to get to the right class, she had prepared the wrong part. Then sections of her score would go missing, the costumes would have a few too many pins in, making fittings an absolute nightmare – especially when she let the wardrobe department know of their incompetence. These little 'accidents' plagued her throughout rehearsals, making her even more unbearable than before. Eventually the Ghost started to be mentioned again. Once this began, Carlotta focussed her anger fully on Christine. The management refused to listen to her after she had made several accusations against her rival – in the same day – so the diva was left to her own devices. To her credit, Christine simply ignored this as best she could, threw herself into the role she had and in short, rose above the situation, earning her the sympathy of many instead of the ostracism Carlotta had no doubt been hoping for. Christine had stopped telling her Angel of these troubles, seeing as he knew about them and offered what comfort he could when she arrived at her lessons anyway. The few that he didn't manage to see, she didn't bother with, seeing as that would have only roused his temper yet again.

In spite of this added drama, the rehearsals went ahead well. With the exception of Vocal Performance, just about every department had – under their own discretion, of course – adhered to a certain spectre's advice and the production was running smoothly, as long as one didn't count 'La Carlotta' as she had been labelled. With each day and every passing rehearsal, Christine's initial assessment of her was proved more and more accurate: she really was a Prima Donna, in the worst sense of the word. As time passed and the pressure mounted, the various departments began to come together and soon the majority of the classes were taking place in the main theatre. They still had some actual work in classrooms, to cover the other aspects of the syllabus, but other than that; this was the Ravelle, and the production came first. Everything else, they were taught along the way and expected to learn fully. However, as the production came together, Carlotta – seeing that she suddenly had something resembling an audience – began to lord it over the rest of the cast and crew. And she got worse with time.

Eventually, it was the day before the show. The entire institute was packed into the main theatre. Whilst some might think this would make it crowded, that was not the case. The theatre – like most others – was not simply the stage and its auditorium. There were all the areas off stage that needed to be staffed and overseen as well. The cast was on stage, the orchestra was in the pit and the technicians were either up in the rigging or in their various offices monitoring everything. They were currently working their way through the first act of Hannibal and the full scale of the opulence was almost overwhelming – except for the fact that they had all been around it for weeks now. As was to be expected, last minute nerves were settling in and there were a few mistakes, including Carlotta's gown being trodden on and torn during her grand welcoming of Hannibal.

Once the chorus was finished and everyone was allowed to breathe again, Carlotta promptly began moaning at the unfortunate members of the costume department who were required to be nearby. The dancers took their next places on stage and began as soon as Reyer struck up the music. Even though their concentration was fixed on the performance – Madame Giry's strict discipline having been drilled into them for months now – they did not miss the two managers who had appeared and were discussing the production with her. In spite of Reyer's protestations, Doctor Poligny soon joined them and interrupted the rehearsals when he thought it was convenient.

"Attention everyone, for those of you who haven't already had the pleasure, allow me to introduce the theatre managers, Mr. Richard Firmin and Mr. Michael Andre, new to the Ravelle this year. This will be their first full scale production, the same of which can be said for many of you. I am sure you will all work well under their guidance, and continue to make Ravelle a name to be proud of. Thank you." Having made his speech, he gestured to Reyer, allowing him to proceed. He then turned his attention to the two leads who were currently . . . taking a breather.

"I believe we have our stars here, Miss Carlotta Guidacelli, who I understand you have already met." Poligny introduced diplomatically.

"Of course, Miss Guidacelli, and may I say what a pleasure it is to have you as our Elissa." Firmin said, fawning over her hand in what he supposed to be a dignified manner. Ubaldo coughed indignantly to get their attention and was similarly introduced, although not fawned over to quite the same extent.

A burst of excited chatter and giggles from just off stage diverted the managers' attention again, and during the next break another introduction was made.

"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce Raoul de Chagny, whom several of you will have met before, representing the de Chagny family who we are pleased to welcome as our new patrons. Of course, the formal announcement will be made at the gala tomorrow." Poligny declared.

"Thank you, everyone. My family and I are keen to support the arts, and look forward to this latest production's success." He was then introduced to the 'stars', before beating a rather hasty retreat with the Dean, clearly not thinking much of the way that Carlotta was unabashedly throwing herself at him. He walked straight past the dancers, who now included Meg and Christine. Meg saw Christine's face fall and put a reassuring hand on her arm.

"You've met him? He's totally hot, you have my approval." Meg smiled, trying to cheer up her adoptive sister.

"When Papa and I used to travel to the coast for the summer performances, he was there with his family. We spent hours every holiday playing together. Papa used to joke that we were childhood sweethearts. I guess he forgot about me again. He only recognised before when everyone found out my name."

"He just didn't see you. He did look like he was in a hurry. You can't blame him; did you see what Carlotta was doing to the poor guy?" Christine smiled a little in return before they were called back on stage for their next scene, only to be subjected to another one of Carlotta's tantrums. Apparently she had had enough of the costumer's incompetence and was threatening to quit. Having been obviously subdued by their earlier dealings with her and her mother, the managers were playing to her every whim. Christine and Meg looked at each other and rolled their eyes in unison. Eventually the diva was placated by a request for an aria. It was the one Christine had been humming her first day back after Christmas. She inwardly braced herself, having been tortured with Carlotta's extravagant massacre of the pretty tune before. She wasn't the only one. Meg pointed out a few members of the crew just out of Carlotta's peripheral vision who were putting in ear plugs – and they looked like they were doing it with a practiced ease. Reyer certainly wasn't happy; having conceded to this latest request with what had lately become his usual sarcasm.

Carlotta began, throwing her voice into it with more gusto than at the Christmas Concert. She tried to sing as though she were a coloratura – and failed miserably. The higher notes came out in a half-strangled sort of way, and there was still the climax of the song to reach! Christine thought she saw even one of the managers wince, although she couldn't be certain.

The set fell.

Carlotta was knocked to the floor. It hadn't landed right on top of her, but her costume was extravagant enough that she fell anyway. The ballet girls screamed. The technicians began rushing around trying to shift it. No one had seen it coming until it was halfway down. Someone called out:

"It's the Ghost!"

This prompted no end of whisperings and panic amongst those on stage. Those off it weren't faring much better either – there were too many places where a ghost could indeed be hiding. Christine looked around anxiously, wondering not for the first time if this were being done for her.

Everyone looked up to the rigging where Joseph Buquet was peering down. Firmin called up to him, demanding an explanation.

"I'm sorry sir, there's no sign of anyone, well anyone human." He answered with a hint of a grin. Firmin was about to question his ludicrous statement when his attention was abruptly brought back down to the stage. Carlotta was screaming in indignation as she was finally hauled up and the stage began to be set right again.

"Enough! I'll not take this treatment anymore. I quit!"

"Miss Guidacelli, you can't walk out now. Look, this is a theatre. Accidents do happen." Andre said in an attempt to placate her.

"These 'accidents' have been happening for weeks and I will not have them happening to me anymore. You can't expect anyone to work in a place that obviously isn't safe. I know my mother never had to put with such unprofessional standards." This prompted a few scoffs from the less intimidated members of the cast and crew. Unprofessionalism was not something Carlotta was in any position to lecture on. "I've had enough. You've done nothing to prevent this and you still do nothing, and until you do something, I refuse to work like this anymore. " She said before storming off the stage. Piangi followed her in an attempt to console the temperamental diva, in between muttering something about amateurs and how this would never happen in Italy.

"What do we do?" Andre asked, realising that their star had just walked out on them.

"The box office is sold out. We can't cancel. We'd lose all credibility." Firmin replied, adding to the worry.

"She'll come back." Andre stated, in an attempt to calm everyone.

"Clearly you are new here, monsieur." Madame Giry said, approaching them with a familiar looking piece of paper in her hand. "I have a letter from the Opera Ghost."

"Madame, surely you are not given over to these ridiculous superstitions as well." Firmin interjected. He was ignored.

"He would like to formally welcome you to his opera house," a remark which earned some indignant scoffs from the two gentlemen, "he requests that you continue to leave Box 5 empty for each performance and also wishes to remind you that his salary is due."

"His salary!"

"Yes, Monsieur Firmin. He is paid a monthly salary."

"Oh never mind all this nonsense. We have a real problem to deal with. Look, do we have an understudy?" Andre turned to Reyer, a desperate look in his eyes.

"Understudy? There is no understudy for 'La Carlotta', in case our illustrious board failed to mention their decision to the management." Was the only help he would give.

"There must be someone who knows the part, surely."

"Christine Daaë could sing it." Hearing the familiar name, the managers stiffened instantly.

"Daaë? The same Daaë, Miss Guidacelli has accused of being in league with this 'ghost'?" Firmin asked suspiciously.

"Have you anyone else, Monsieur? Let her sing. Professor Gardiner will agree that she has been well taught." Madame Giry continued; her presence quelling the interrogation before it could truly begin.

"Oh? You have another voice teacher, Miss Daaë?" Andre asked. Christine hesitated, knowing full well this could decide whether or not her Angel's promises would be fulfilled. She answered the only way she could: honestly.

"I don't know his name."

"Indeed!" He answered triumphantly. He soon calmed down on encountering Madame Giry's glare. Remembering whose support the young singer definitely had, he conceded, "Oh, very well. Andre this is doing nothing for my nerves." Firmin said, clearly not in the mood to encourage the poor girl, as he made no effort to lower his voice.

"Well, she's very pretty." Was his reply as Christine moved forward slowly to centre stage. She looked nervously to Madame Giry who nodded encouragingly. Looking down to Mr. Reyer who was awaiting her, she was met with his smile of encouragement as he began the soft melody once again.

Christine sang. Softly at first, somewhat overwhelmed by the whole situation. She looked at Mother Giry again, and then cast her gaze out to the auditorium. She remembered what it felt like to sing to a full house. She remembered the exhilaration. She remembered her Angel. And she sang.

She showed them what music really was.

When the final line came, complete with the phrase that had caused her so much grief in her lessons; she focused on her Angel and finally found perfection. The orchestra didn't even have chance to finish playing properly before the applause started.

Everyone came up to Christine, praising her; the managers fawned over her as they had Carlotta, only Christine received it with shy modesty.

Christine was Prima Donna.

And somewhere up in the rafters, a shadow was smiling.

AN: And we all know what's coming next . . . Sorry to leave you hanging, well, not really :) Thanks again. Nedjmet.