Disclaimer: I own nothing and do not expect to any time soon!

A/N: I would first and foremost like to thank all those who have reviewed to my story. Second of all, I must stress that I am NOT DOING THIS ACCORDING TO THE MOVIE! I AM DOING THIS ACCORDING TO THE STAGE PLAY BY ANDREW LLOYD WEBBER! Just letting you know cuz there has been some confusion, so if this sounds a lot like the movie, it's because I am doing this off of the stage play. The words are almost identical. But it will become clear in later chapters that this is not done according to the movie, especially once you see the chapters and how they are organized. Just FYI! Now that I've got that off my chest, on with the show!

Chapter Four: Magic of the Night…

The fact that Albus had not managed to make it into the room on time was, indeed, lamentable. If he had managed to pull out his wand on time, then he might have been able to keep Minerva from going beyond the mirror with the devishly handsome Phantom. Alas, he had not been so lucky, thus was unable to save Minerva from following the Phantom. Therefore, a chain of events was set into motion which no one could stop, nor could they forget.

Ooooooooooo

Minerva felt herself being pulled down a long tunnel, barely lit by candles scattered here and there along the walls. She could barely see the narrow hallway in which she was being led, nor did she see the rats which ran past her. But, then again, none of this would have registered to her anyway, since she was so entranced by Tom's face, that she barely registered anything else. She recognized not the cold, dampness of the air, nor the dim lighting which surrounded them. He didn't even seem to notice that the walls widened a little when they reached the stairs.

They began their decent down the steps, the entire time, Minerva was keeping her eyes on Tom's face while he lead her through his insane labyrinth. Minerva had never been down here before. At least, she did not remember coming down here before.

Tom just smiled as he brought Minerva down through the darkness that was his home. He had watched her grow from a young age, and was thoroughly fascinated by her. He had even begun to feel love for this beauty, who took lessons from him at the tender age of seven.

Tom appeared to be almost ageless. No one could tell that he was, in fact, a few years older than Minerva. But he appeared to be much younger than he actually was. It was for this fact that Minerva was, at first, not so sure she wanted to take lessons from someone who seemed so young. But she soon found out that he was, in fact, a genius in his own right.

Finally, they came to the bottom of the stairs. And at the bottom of the steps, she was rather surprised to find a large canal, with a small boat at the edge of it. But she hardly had time to think too much about it, since Tom continued to pull her by her hand and helped her into the boat. She simply sat there, too enamored with him to pull back or even think about what she was doing. She simply sat there and watched as Tom took up a long pole and pushed the boat forward with sinewy arms. It was a while before she actually spoke to him.

"Tom, where are you taking me?" she asked, sounding almost like a scared child who was being taken to meet her doom for something she didn't know she had done. Tom was silent for a while before he answered.

"Do not fear, Minerva," he said, not looking back at her. "I will not harm you."

"It is not you I fear," she replied. "It is the darkness I do not like." She turned her head around as she saw the ever shrinking stairs behind them. With a wave of his hand, he brought her attention back to him.

"Do not turn from me, my angel of magic," he said, his voice soft but commanding. "Do not turn to glance behind. Just remember that the Phantom of Hogwarts is here, inside your mind, and all will be well." Minerva merely nodded and continued to sit there in the boat, staring at him.

It seemed to take forever before they finally reached their destination. They were now in a large pool of misty water, which was encompassed by hard stone. There were candles floating everywhere. And as they entered the small 'room', a giant, wrought iron gate closed them in, as if sealing her fate indefinitely. To one side was a large dueling pad, enough room for two people to battle. This was where they would practice for hours on end, and even where Tom himself had created some of his better attacks for which he was so famous for. Right next to it was a desk was a desk, where he wrote many of his letters. It was also where he kept his giant penseive, which was where he kept an eye on everyone in the school… especially Minerva. Straight ahead, there was a grand bed, covered with a green spread, and silver sheets and pillowcases. And, to the right, there were objects, which she guessed to be mirrors, but could only speculate, for they were covered with various cloth-like materials.

As they made their way towards where the dueling pad was, Minerva finally noticed the damp smell which hung in the air. The sewer in which they were floating upon was not helping anything, she soon found out. And yet, for all its flaws, there was something eerily home-like and comforting about it. Minerva would soon conclude that it must be the fact that she knew she was in the presence of her teacher, and felt safe in knowing that he would always watch over her.

They reached the side concrete stone, and Tom jumped off, turning around and offering his hand to Minerva. She took it gladly as he helped her out of the boat. The red dress she had donned when she planned to go out with Albus was light in weight, and reached only to mid calf. Though it had long sleeves, it offered a tantalizing glance and a small amount of cleavage. On her feet were red flat shoes. Altogether, she looked beautiful, but felt very cold. She had not dressed for such an atmosphere, and it was made even clearer when she shivered at the kiss of a light breeze. Tom smiled slightly when he saw this and, taking off his cloak in one swift movement, placed it over her shoulders.

"Thank you, Angel," she said. At first, it felt rather odd calling him either "Angel" or "Phantom". He had told her in the beginning that he did not like being called Tom, for it reminded him too much of his past, and although it felt awkward at first, she respected his wishes. But they soon came to be those simple words which brought almost instant strength within her that she never knew she had. He simply smiled at her and led her toward the right side of the dueling mat, where a chalkboard was set against the wall, right next to the penseive which rested upon his desk. It had numerous directions and incantations on it. There were also many spells scribbled on pieces of paper, which he had stuck on the walls.

"Do you know why I have brought you down here, Minerva?" he asked, that smile never leaving his handsome face. Minerva merely shrugged.

"I can only guess, master," she said. This, too, took her some time to get used to. She had never before thought that she would call anyone her master. But the Angel of Magic had been kind to her, and she felt she owed him a lot, including her respect. He was, after all, very intelligent. Tom smiled at her.

"Minerva, you are, by far, the most talented witch of your age. Your talents far exceed those of any other pupil your age. But that does not mean that you can afford to slack off in any areas. There is still much more which you must learn. If you continue to follow my instruction, then you can become great. Perhaps you will be as great as me." Minerva smiled. She did want to become great, and in her eyes, Tom was a great wizard. If she could achieve the level of talent Tom had reached, she would feel happy.

They passed the dueling pad, past the desk, and then reached a high arched mirror. It looked very much similar to the Mirror of Erised which Dumbledore had kept in his office for several years. Unfortunately, the mirror had been moved the previous year, for reasons which no one could say for sure. Minerva had heard him talking once, when she was once his student, about creating something known as the "sorcerer's stone". Other than that, she knew nothing.

"Do you know what this is?" Minerva looked at the mirror and shook her head. Tom smiled. "I'm sure you remember the Mirror of Erised." Minerva nodded. "Well, this is the brother mirror to the Mirror of Erised. This, however, is slightly different. This is the Mirror of H'Siwym. Yes, like the Mirror of Erised, it shows what we really want in life, but there is something else. You see, the Mirror of Erised shows only the individual what he or she most wants in life. But with the Mirror of H'Siwym, all I have to do is press my hand upon the mirror like this and…" With that, he pressed his hand, palm flat, against the frame of top center of the mirror and Minerva watched in amazement as their reflections became rather hazy. Suddenly, right before her eyes, Minerva found something which shocked her more than anything else in her life. There, staring back at her was indeed her reflection, but it was not her at that present moment. It appeared to be life-like, almost like a manikin in a window shop. Minerva felt that if she reached out and touched the manikin, she would feel skin. The fact that it was an exact replica of her was not the only fact which scared her. It was also the fact that it was wearing a wedding dress.

The color drained from her face. Tom wanted her to be his forever, and not just his student. The world around her seemed to be spinning around her and before she knew it, she blacked out. Luckily, Tom saw it coming and was there to catch her before she fell to the ground. He knew the shock would get to her, so it came as no surprise to him when she passed out. So, he picked her up and took her to his bed, making sure to lay her down as gently as possible. He smiled as he looked down at her, bringing a blanket to rest on top of her. She looked so peaceful and looked more like an angel than ever, if that was possible. It took a lot for Tom to pull away and leave her to sleep. Slowly and quietly, he closed the curtains around her so she could have even more privacy. With one last sigh, he turned his back and went over to his desk, passing by a small model of Hogwarts. It served him a great deal like an enchanted map would in that, when opened up, would show where everyone was at any given moment. Currently, it was open and it did show several doll-like figures in various rooms. In the hospital wing, a miniature Rose Pomfrey was standing over a sick student. In the front hall, Cornelius Fudge and Rufus Scrimgeour were bidding each other good night. And finally, in his office, Albus Dumbledore was at his desk, writing furiously, it seemed. No doubt it was something concerning his dear Christine. Tom smiled. The blundering fool. He'd never have her; not as long as Tom could stop him.

The Next Morning…

Minerva awoke with a start. She looked around to see that she was no longer in her room, and she slowly began to remember the events of the previous night had unfolded. She remembered teaching the classes the entire day because that ridiculous Jane Umbridge had thrown a fit and stormed out of the castle just as breakfast ended. She remembered her reunion with Albus in her private chambers. And then she remembered the lights dimming, and a voice calling out to her…

She sat up straight as she remembered the Phantom. She remembered… remembered…

Nearby, there was a small music box playing. It was in the shape of a penseive, and attached to it was the figure of a wizard in Persian robes looking into it. As the music played, the wizard, wand in hand, moved its head and hands from side to side, as if staring at the memory of an even long since past. This intrigued Minerva quite a bit. She threw open her bed curtains and thought of what had happened the night before.

I remember there was mist, she thought, swirling mist upon a vast glassy lake. There were candles all around, and on the lake there was a boat; and in the boat, there was a man. Her eyes finally rested upon Tom, who was sitting at his desk, scribbling notes and muttering to himself as if he were mad as a hatter. She smiled slightly and stood up, making her way slowly and silently towards the Phantom, who seemed not to have noticed her at all. She pondered, "Whose was that shape in the shadow? Whose face is there in the mask?

She marveled at how she had never seen him without that half mask on his face. She hesitated, but only for a moment or two. Then, she swiftly grabbed the mask and pulled it off. Within a matter of seconds, Tom had grabbed at his face and pushed her onto the ground, scaring her out of her wits.

"DAMN YOU!" he cried. "YOU LITTLE PRYING PANDORA! YOU LITTLE DEMON! IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED TO SEE?" He turned to her and showed her his face. She gasped. His face, the part which was usually covered by the white mask, was the most hideous, most deformed thing she had seen. It looked as though the flesh were melting off of his face. Everything, from the right part of his lip, up his cheek the entire right side of his face, and on his forehead, was burnt, giving him the look of a monster. It was a gross opposition to the side of his face which was human and good-looking. He turned around and continued to storm about. "CURSE YOU! YOU LITTLE LYING DELILAH! YOU LITTLE VIPER, NOW YOU CANNOT EVER BE FREE! DAMN YOU! CURSE YOU!" He hit things off his desk, sending papers flying all over. He then walked to the edge where the water was and breathed in heavily until he had calmed down a bit. It was only then that she dared to speak.

"Tom…" she whispered. He didn't answer for quite a while, the silence piercing. Then, he responded.

"Oh, Minerva, stranger than you dreamt it, can you even dare to look or bear to think of me: this loathsome gargoyle that burns in hell but secretly yearns for Heaven? But Minerva…" he trailed off as he turned to look at her, all the sadness in the world seeming to show through his eyes. Minerva now sincerely regretted ever pulling that blasted mask off his face. She silently bereted herself, but knew that she could never take back what she had done. "Minerva, fear can turn to love. You'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster; this repulsive carcass who seems a beast but secretly dreams of beauty. Oh, Minerva…" He sat next to her on the floor, since she had been too shaken to actually stand up again. Reaching out his hand to her, he waited patiently, his anger now completely subsided. Minerva, with a shaking hand, placed the mask in his hands, feeling worse than she had in a long time and yet, at the same time, relieved that he was no longer angry with her. Slowly, he took the mask from her and replaced it on his head. Once it was replaced, he stood and held out his hand to her.

"Come we must return. That old fool who runs the school will be missing you."

The apprentices were all gathered in the common room, all murmuring about what had happened to Minerva the night before. Where could she have gone? Suddenly, Filch showed up and called them to be quiet. He was the apprentice to the school caretaker.

"We all know where she went," he hissed. "He took her. The Phantom of Hogwarts." There was a rush of whispers and everyone wondered if it was true. They fell silent once again before staring back at Filch. He smiled. He picked up a cloak that had been draped over a chair and threw it over his shoulder. He also picked up a long piece of string and tied it into a hangman's noose. "Like yellow parchment is his skin. A great black whole serves as the nose that never grew. You must be always on your guard, or he will catch you with his magical lasso." He teasingly threw it over the neck of Severus, who pulled out his wand to hex Filch. He was stopped by Rose Pomfrey, who had come to pick up her daughter for the day. She motioned for him to put his wand back in his pocket and pulled the mock lasso off of his neck. She looked around at those in the room, all of who had their eyes cast downward as if they had just had their hands caught in the cookie jar.

"Those who speak of what they know find too late that prudent silence is wise." Rose looked at Filch. "Argus Filch, hold your tongue, or he will burn you with the heat of his eyes." With that, she left, Poppy close behind her. The others just looked at each other before going about their day.

A/N2: FINALLY! I know, I know, I have been so bloody busy lately. But I am on Christmas holidays now, so I might be able to update more. No saying for sure, though. LOL! Well, Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, or whatever you're into. LOL! Love ya lots. Always Hopeful