Authors Note: Why so silent good readers, did you think that I had left you for good? Have you missed me good readers, I have written you an epilogue! It's short yes but I believe an epilogue would be most appropriate for the phanfic! Fun fact I'm posting this on the 30th anniversary of The Phantom of the Opera, which also seems most appropriate!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, nor do I most most of the words of the first two sentences of that authors note.

Epilogue: Sept Ans

"A A A C-C A, A A A C#-C A, Eb C# C Bb C C#-C, Eb Bb G Eb G B C#-C" murmured a soft voice as the keys of the piano were played by a small pair of hands. "Isn't it beautiful father?" Gustave asked his father, who sat next to him.

Erik smiled at his seven-year-old son, already showing his passion for music. "It's wonderful Gustave, I can't wait to see what you make of this." Over the years, he learned Christine had been right, Gustave was very much like him. He loved everything about music, how it would dance around his head. Of course, he had demonstrated a very similar childish temper, Erik would roll his eyes when it was compared to his own. Gustave had also inherited his mother's kindness, never questioning his father's face, nor the mask that would lie around the house, rarely covering Erik's face anymore. Erik knew that one day the question may arise, and his son would have to learn about his dark past. Until that day, he was content with knowing it would not happen for a while and when it did, he would be truthful and honest.

Christine came into the music room to join their music lesson, "I hear my angels are creating music."

Gustave turned to his mother with excitement sparkling in his eyes, "father is helping me compose a song!"

"Is he now?" Christine smirked at Erik, who shrugged sheepishly.

"He has an ear for music," he smiled back.

She kissed Gustave on his head and wrapped her arms around Erik's neck from behind, "may you play for me, whatever you have so far?"

Gustave grinned and began to play the tune again for his parents, when he finished he looked at his mother for approval.

"I love it, my brilliant, little composer." She applauded with a smile, "do you have a name for it yet?"

Her son vigorously shook his head, "I'm going to call it "beautiful", because the notes flow like the night, and because it reminds me of the love of you and father which is beautiful."

A grin appeared on Eriks face as he repeated the name, "beautiful." He ruffled his son's hair and pulled him into a hug. Gustave wouldn't understand how much that word truly meant to him, but nonetheless it meant the world.

Gustave embraced his father's hold then gave a little laugh. "Now it's your turn," he said, moving so his mother could take his place at the piano.

Christine lifted him onto her lap. "What would you like us to preform, mon petit ange?"

Gustave took a moment to think, "the song about the phantom of the opera, it's my favorite."

Both Christine and Erik smiled to each other. Gustave knew of his mother's days at the opera, and knew his parents met there. He knew the stories of the Angel of Music, but was not told of the identity of the phantom, and figured that part of the story would remain untold till he was older. Both Erik and Christine agreed never to hide anything from their son, but knew there was a time and place for everything.

Erik winked at Christine before play the all too familiar melody. She smiled back and began to sing,

"In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came. That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name…"