Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera. It belongs to people who I don't know and likely have more money then me. It'd be nice to have twenty bucks to get socks. Lots and lots of socks.

To Learn the Musical Alphabet

As the grey light twisted in through the curtains on a stormy day, a wiry blond man sits on a chair with a young blonde girl staring up at him from the floor. In his hands he holds the key his magic. It lays across his lap, ready to ensnare all those near and in the little farmhouse. In the background, a blonde woman with dancing blue eyes prepares a meal, shooting the two fond glances and equally fond smiles.

"Papa, play!" demands the little girl no more than three. "Play! Play!"

The blond man chuckles, shooting his wife a glance before asking the little girl, "Is that truly what you want, Christine?"

Her angelic blonde curls bounce with the force of her nod. The man chuckles again before raising the instrument to his shoulder and poising the bow, a key part of the magical equation, between the bridge and fingerboard of the instrument. Despite its readiness the instrument lay silent, causing the little girl to squirm and plead. The woman in the background, still with an affectionate smile, intervened on the girl's behalf, chastising the man. "Charles, you're a horrible man. Play something."

"Well, I can't deny both of my ladies, now can I?" Obligingly, he draws the bow across the strings – another factor in the equation of magic – and plays a swift-paced song lasting for a bare three minutes.

During brief duration of the ensnaring siren call, the little girl's blue eyes widened in ecstasy, her face glowing brightly from joy. The woman takes a small hiatus from her work to listen to the magic as well. To the little girl, all other creatures and nature itself stops its daily life to listen to the glorious sound coming from the instrument. Even several seconds afterwards, all is quiet in hopes of hearing the last strains of magic produced.

For the little girl, the silence was a horrible, deafening noise, so she quietly hummed the last few points of magic left by the instrument. She repeats the lines, steadily growing louder in her volume until it is heard by both of the other occupants of the room. Both of the adults stay silent, listening to the magic produced from their child's throat. Finally, she opens her mouth to repeat the magic. The adults stare in wonder at each other and the babe. They did not have a little girl for a child, but a siren! No other creature could produce such a sound.

At the end of her own spell, the little girl giggles, kicking her bare feet against the floor in happiness. Slowly, still partially ensnared by his daughter's song, the man bends down and beckons to the girl, "Christine, come here."

She pushes herself up, scampering over to her papa and climbing onto the indicated spot in his lap. The man manages to maneuver his bow to the strings without jostling his daughter or the instrument, a feat that shows much practice. He pauses in the thought long enough that the girl makes a noise of impatience. Instead of his usual response of laughter, he started to play a rising then quickly falling spell. This leaves the girl dissatisfied with the length and potency of the spell. However, her unhappiness was put to a halt when the man gently orders, "Christine, repeat the sound Papa makes."

Once more, he repeats the spell, but he does it slowly, leaving a space for her to follow with her own disconnected magic. A smile grows on the man's face causing one to bloom in response on the face of the little girl.

"I have something very important to teach you little one," her papa says gently, after lowering his instrument and delicately placing it on the floor. "It's called the musical alphabet, would you care to learn?"

"Yes, papa," she agrees without hesitation. She trusts him to tell her everything she will need to know.

"First, I must give you the notes, which are the heart of the alphabet. Repeat after me, Little Lotte." Her papa gave her a new name! The name of the girl who was visited by an angel! She sat up straighter to show that she deserved such a glorious title. "E, G, B, D, F, A, C."

"E, G, B, D, F, A, C," she parrots.

"Good, memorize those notes, with them you can create any song or scale. I'll show you, with a D Major scale. Repeat after me, again." He played the spell she now learned was a scale, a D Major one. After one long stroke of the bow, he would tell her the note being played.

With wide-eyed wonder, seated on her papa's knee, the young girl voraciously absorbs the information, knowing that she is pleasing her papa with every second. Another thought drives her to learn these notes. She can create her own magic with them, just like her papa! So, she sits and listens and repeats.

The End.

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This is special. Why did I write it? Because my muse told me too. I hope someone enjoys it. I don't require anyone to review, but feedback is always appreciated and cherished. Have a nice day/night/evening/lunch/etc./etc.