Eek! It has been ages since I updated on this story! Although, I think that I only had one person who actually missed it -laughes-. There are a few changes throughout the story now, however.

Warnings: There's going to be slash in this story. If that offends you in any way then don't read this story. Simple as that.

After four weeks in Paris, young Ron Weasley had decided that it was one of the greatest places on Earth. He would happily tell anyone that would listen that he wanted to stay in the city for the rest of his life.

It was because of this that he had decided to be much nicer to his Auntie Muriel who had provided the finances for the trip in the first place.

And since it was their last night in the amazing city, Auntie Muriel had decided to bring them to what Ron quickly decided was his most favorite thing in Paris.

The Opera Populaire.

Ron had fallen in love with the opera house the moment he laid eyes on it. It seemed more like a palace than a theatre in its grandeur and its architecture had been crafted to perfection.

But the beauty of the place itself was nothing compared to the wonderful music that lay inside of it, even if the leading soprano, Carlotta Giudicelli, did sound like a toad.

Ron never wanted to leave the opera house so he couldn't stop from sulking a little when he remembered that they were leaving early the next morning.

However, much to his delight, the mangers of the Opera Populaire were so taken with his family that they invited them all to the after party that was being thrown backstage.

His family was ecstatic, of course, and accepted immediately.

So well they were all busy enjoying the party, Ron slipped away to explore the rest of the building.

Which was how he found himself standing in the Chapel of the opera house.

As he inspected the place with his usual amount of childish curiosity, Ron had to admit that it was a rather creepy place to be in. It was far too quiet, even with the party raging above and though he was alone, he still felt like there were eyes following him around the room.

He did his best to calm himself down by thinking of the opera he had just watched and before long he was humming the melody of his favorite song. A huge smile broke out across his face and he burst into song.

"Think of me

Think of me fondly

When we've said goodbye

Remember me once in a while

Please promise me you'll try

When you find

That once again you long

To take your heart back

And be free

If you ever find a moment

Spare a thought for me

We never said our love was evergreen

Or as unchanging as the sea

But if you can still remember

Stop and think of me

Think of all the things

We've shared and seen

Don't think about the way

Things might have been

Think of me, think of me waking

Silent and resigned

Imagine me, trying to hard

To put you from my mind

Recall those days

Look back on all those times

Think of the things we'll never do

There will never be a day

When I won't think of you

Flowers fade

The fruits of summer fade

They have their seasons

So do we

But please promise me that sometimes

You will think

Of me!"

When the last not died upon his lips, Ron couldn't stop himself from giggling as he dipped down in a low bow to an imaginary audience.

But his eyes went wide when clapping filled the room and a voice reached his ears that seemed too beautiful to be that of a human's.

"Brava, brava, bravissima."

Ron went stumbling backwards in shock, his eyes darting around to find the source of the voice, but was amazed to see that no one had entered the room.

"Whose there!" Ron demanded in a shaky voice. "Where are you hiding!"
"Do not be frightened, child," The voice said, his tone soothing. "I am right here with you—you just cannot see me. I am a ghost."

"A ghost?" Ron echoed, astonished. His eyes moved cautiously around the room again. "Are you good or bad?"

"I would like to think of myself as good," The ghost said, "but very few people seem to think that I am."

"Why?" Ron asked, his brow furrowing.

When the ghost replied his voice was full of a misery that made Ron's heart ache. "I did some very bad things in the past in an effort to win the heart of a woman that I loved above all else."

"Did you get her?" Ron asked breathlessly.

"No," The ghost whispered.

"Oh," Ron said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize," The ghost sighed. "It was not your fault." He was silent for a few moments and when he spoke again the sadness was gone from his voice. "You sang very well. Have you had any training?"

Ron blushed under the praise and shook his head. "I just wanted to sing it because it was so pretty," He admitted.

The red that had appeared on his cheeks deepened when the ghost gave a soft laugh that sounded like the sweetest melody.

"It is a very nice song," The ghost said. "Its surprising that you were able to sing it so well without training." There was another paused and then, "Will you be returning here soon?"

Ron's face fell as he remembered how little time he had left in Paris and he hung his head. "No," He said sadly. "I'm only here on vacation. I have to go back to England tomorrow."

"How disappointing," The ghost said. "Your voice was so promising... I wanted to help train it…"

"You did?" Ron gaped.

"Yes," The ghost said. "But its impossible seeing as your returning to England so soon—"

"No!" Ron said. "I want you to teach me!"

"I would not be against it," The ghost said, "but you cannot stay here long enough for me teach you."

Ron crossed his arms, scowling in frustration until a thought occurred to him and he almost started jumping up and down in excitement.

"I can come back when I'm older!" He said.

"Are you sure you won't have forgotten by then?" The ghost asked.

"Of course I won't!" Ron said. "I'll remember you forever and ever!"

Although he couldn't see it, his words made the "ghost" smile.

"Then I shall wait for you to return," The ghost said, "but you must practice your singing everyday until you come back. Understood?" His smile widened at Ron's enthusiastic nod. "Good," He said. "Now I believe we still have some time before your family comes looking for you. Would you like some lessons until then?"

"Yes, please!" Ron said.

"Excellent," The ghost said. "Then let us begin."

When the Weasley family finally found their youngest son a few hours later they were stunned to hear him singing with a voice none of them knew he had had before.