"Who's she?"

"I don't know, but she looks like she was rich."

"Bet the photograph's 'er family."

"Bet it isn't."

"Contrary li'le snipe."

"I'm not the one making assumptions about things you have no idea about."

"Why you…"

"Sssh, she's waking up!"

Danielle was greeted by two pairs of quizzical eyes, one set crystal blue, and one bright green. They belonged to two girls about her own age; one looked a little older, one a little younger. They were both dressed in ballet clothes – tutus, tights, and soft flat shoes. The blue-eyed one grinned in delight.

"Cor, she's no' dead after all!"

Danielle blinked, not quite sure how to take that statement. The green eyes rolled.

"Don't mind her. I'm Frances, but most people just call me Fran. This crazy is Edith, but everyone mostly just calls her Eddy."

"'ello." The so-called crazy one chimed in, while sucking on a piece of her auburn hair.

Danielle blinked at the two of them, and then grinned a little herself. "I'm Danielle."

"Ooh, fancy one." Edith, or Eddy, was busy examining the hairbrush on the nightstand. "Never seen one like this before." She set it back down, almost reverently.

"It was my mothers." Danielle offered by means of explanation.

Eddy resumed chewing on her hair. "It's verruh lovely. Is that your motha in the photograph?"

Danielle nodded mutely.

Fran examined the picture, too, looking from Christine to Danielle, then back again. "You look a lot like her."

Danielle nodded again. "So I've been told."

Eddy plopped ungracefully on the bed next to Danielle's, throwing worn ballet slippers under the mattress carelessly. "Whot brings you to the Paris opera house?" she said, in her delightfully rough cockney accent.

Danielle hesitated for a moment. Did she really want to tell them that her father had virtually abandoned her here? In a moment, she had fabricated a new story. It was easy enough. "My parents are dead. My sister is getting married, and my brother's apprenticed to a smithy a little ways from here. It was only logical."

Fran's face fell. "Oh, I'm sorry Danielle. We should have guessed, a lot of the girls that come here are orphaned."

Eddy nodded, twirling another lock of hair. "Me mother put me here after me da died. She didn't want me, no more'n the rest of my family did. So I live here."

"I'm one of the few here by choice," Fran said, "I've always loved dancing, so I decided to make a career of it." She pushed a piece of blonde hair out of her eyes. "I take it since you're in our dormitory; you're going to be a dancer, too?"

Danielle nodded, and then smacked her head with the flat of her hand. "Merde! I was supposed to see Madame Giry when I came first thing! But the opera house is so big, and I didn't know my way around, and…" Danielle broke into a cold sweat, frightful she had angered the ballet mistress.

Eddy hopped down from the bed, and took Danielle's hand. "We'll take ye, Dany! Dunnot worry, Madame Giry knows it can be t'awful frightful for newcomers in the opera house. She won't be angry w'ye." Tugging a bit on Danielle's hand, Eddy started for the door, with Fran following close behind.

Eddy led Danielle through a twisting maze of corridors, past older dancers and their beaus, open doors to dressing rooms containing divas and their attendants, and statues of all shapes and sizes. Danielle was incredibly glad she hadn't tried to find the ballet mistress herself – she would have been lost in these halls forever, with no one to miss her. Fran assured her every so often that the more you had to; the easier it got to navigate these passages. Danielle could only nod before she was tugged down another darkened hallway by the overenthusiastic Eddy. After what seemed like ages, Eddy skidded to a stop in front of a closed door. To Danielle's dismay, she opened it without even a knock.

"Madame Giry, lookee who I found!" Eddy cried triumphantly, holding Danielle's arm up as if she were a prize.

"We found, Eddy." Fran corrected crossly, and filed in behind Danielle.

"She was asleep on one of the beds in our dormit'ry. I thought she was dead, but she wasn't." Eddy stated, simply.

Danielle smiled timidly at the ballet mistress, who still had her back to the trio. She noticed the worn ballet shoes on her feet, an unexpected contrast the severe black gown she wore. The subtle absence of a ring on the hand that she ran through her graying blonde hair made Danielle wonder why she was called "Madame".

"Thank you Edith, Frances. You may return to your dormitory. Don't forget we're practicing an hour early tomorrow."

"All because of rotten old Sorelli." Fran grumbled, and tugged on Eddy's arm. "Come on, let's go."

Eddy looked somewhat crestfallen, but followed after Fran obediently, leaving Danielle alone with the ballet mistress. The thud of a shutting door had never sounded so final.

Madame Giry turned around to face the meek young girl, and promptly dropped the sheet music she was holding.

"Mon dieu, Christine!"

Madame Giry's face turned a sickly shade of white, and Danielle worried that the ballet teacher was going to be ill.

Clearing her throat and smiling at the girl, Madame Giry tried to get control of her emotions. "I'm sorry child, but seeing you was such a shock, especially after hearing of your dear mother's sad demise... but sadly, the past is past. My name is Meg Giry, and I am the ballet instructor here. Your father… your father said you have never danced before?

"Not a step in my life, Madame."

"I see we have some work to do, then." Madame Giry looked down her nose at the girl, as if to size her up. "I do not want to hold you back unnecessarily, and we are always in need of more dancers your age. You will take accelerated classes with me until you have caught up to the level of your flat mates. Is this acceptable, Mam'selle?"

Danielle nodded enthusiastically. She did not want to be seen as the new, awkward girl for any longer than absolutely necessary.

"You will rise at six in the morning with Edith and Frances, and follow them to breakfast and their first class, where on the first day and the first day only you will observe. All others, you will participate. After the rest of the girls leave for their break, you will stay behind with me and I will teach you until the girls return at 10. You will join them for that lesson. You are to stay during break until I feel you have sufficiently caught up to the other girls. This should not be a long time at all, especially if you have inherited your mother's ability as well as her features."

"Thank you, Madame Giry. You are most kind." Danielle curtsied, and turned towards the door.

"Oh, and Danielle?"

Danielle paused, and turned around to face the ballet teacher. She had an odd expression on her face, a look of remembering and contemplation.

"You very much resemble your mother. She was a dear, dear friend of mine many years ago. I miss her greatly."

Danielle nodded meekly, trying not to think too hard on the loss of her mother. "I miss her too, Madame. Thank you."

Madame Giry nodded her head, then lifted one aging hand and shooed Danielle out the door.

------------------------------- -

Danielle tried her best to remember the way back to the dormitory, and eventually found it after half an hour of panicked wandering. As she walked into the dorm, she was greeted by a playfully quarreling Eddy and Fran.

"Eddy, stop!" Fran squeeked as Eddy hit her over the head with a pillow from one of the unused beds.

"Then return ta me my brush!"

"Never!" Fran cackled, and darted behind another of the unused beds.

Danielle couldn't help but grin. The two girls were such opposites, but got along marvelously despite of it.

"Lookee, Dany's back!" cried Eddy triumphantly, misappropriated brush forgotten.

"What did Madame Giry have to say, Dany? Do tell, we're starved for new happenings in this room. The most interesting thing that's happened here is Sorelli mouthing off in practice."

"Which isn't too uncommon, as she does it everyday. And you found your way back here alone! Good on ye."

The two girls were nearly falling all over themselves for some news, and Danielle gratefully told them of Madame Giry's talk, leaving out the bit about her mother. There was no need to make her seem a favorite.

"Gaw, Dany, that's going to be t'awful rig'rous." Eddy shook her head in sympathy. "Madame s'not an easy taskmaster."

Fran glared at Eddy, then patted Danielle's arm in a friendly manner. "Don't listen to Eddy; she's just sore 'cause Madame always gets on her for not pointing her toes enough. She's hard, yes, but she's fair and good. You'll learn well under her."

Danielle nodded solemnly, not for the first time wondering what tomorrow morning would hold.

Breaking the silence that had fallen over the room, Eddy threw herself on the bed next to Danielle's. "Get ready fur bed, ye two! Ruddy lot of good you'll be in the mornin' if yur still half asleep!"

Danielle pulled a nightgown out from her traveling trunk, and slipped it on over her head. Fran was already snuggled beneath her covers, the other two girls having already been in their pajamas when Danielle had returned to the room. She quickly braided her hair for the night, and then dimmed her oil lamp. The other two girls followed suit, and soon the room was filled with Eddy's quiet snores and Fran's soft breathing.

Danielle lay wide awake into the night, listening to the silence of the sleeping opera house. No floorboards creaked comfortingly as in her old home, no murmur of voices from the room next door – there was nothing except Eddy's quiet, whuffling snores. Rolling onto her side, Danielle could barely make out the outline of her picture frame in the darkness. She touched it reverently with one fingertip, tracing the side of the pewter frame. So much had changed in such a short amount of time. Her family was sadly fragmented, possibly beyond hope of reconciliation. She closed her eyes, squeezing tears from their corners. Danielle wasn't sure the ache in her heart was ever going to leave. As she drifted off to an exhausted sleep, she dimly recognized the strains of an old song that her mother had sung to her when she was younger. But instead of high and trembling as her mother's voice had been, this was deep and baritone, and chased by the haunted sound of a pipe-organ. Despite her best wishes, Danielle drifted into a dreamless sleep, forgetting she had even heard the song from her childhood.

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Author's note: hhhm. where is this leading, I wonder:D As usual, I dont own POTO or any of the charecters it contains, despite my wishes to the contrary -shifty eyes- ;) if you can spare a moment of your time to review, it would mean the world to me. Thanks bunches!