A/N: Applying to all chapters, I do not own any of the Phantom of the Opera characters, the lyrics to the songs from the movie, as well as a few of the plotlines in the beginning of the story, which belong to Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Weber. The Magic Flute is not of my creation either, it was written by Mozart.

Chapter 1: Planning

Raoul was in a predicament, his dear Little Lotte was being threatened by a terrible ghost, and it seemed that there was nothing to be done. This ghost, the Phantom of the Opera, seemed invincible and impossible to track, but something had to be done before he hurt dear Christine. Climbing into his carriage, Raoul decided to take the long way to the theatre, hoping to come up with so type of plan on the way there.

He guided his team of two giant grey percherons absent mindedly, lost in his planning. All the events of the past 6 months ran through his head, yet nothing seemed to offer a solution. The Phantoms weakness was an obvious one, Christine. But how to use it with out endangering her in the process?

As he went over this in his mind, the road began to turn from wooded countryside into city outskirts. Raoul continued to guide his team without really paying attention to where he was going. He knew the way to L'Opéra Populaire by heart. He entered La Place De L'Opéra and began to steer towards the stables, still lost in thought without a solution in sight. Suddenly his horses reared without warning, neighing loudly and breaking his train of thought. It was only then that he realized he had nearly ran into a large mail carriage that was parked directly in front of the entrance. The driver began to shout, cursing in multiple languages, some that Raoul could not recognize. The driver had dark skin, and appeared to be from some more eastern nation, but was nonetheless was wearing a deep red royal post uniform. It reminded him of something, something the Phantom had once worn…..

Suddenly it struck him, it had been so obvious! How could he have possibly missed it? The Phantom's opera, the one he had presented at the Bal Masque, that was his answer. There was little that the Phantom could get away with while Christine was onstage, but her performance would certainly draw him to attend. He climbed quickly from his carriage to rush inside, thanking a very confused postman for reminding him of something.

His sudden realization seemed to have drained him of common sense for the time being, for he left his carriage where it stood, in the middle of La Place De L'Opéra. Walking briskly towards the entrance, Raoul handed the hostler 50 francs. The hostler called after him, inquiring as to why the man had paid him 30 extra francs to take care of a horse that did not seem to exist.

xXx

Ok, so I started this a year ago, and then I stopped for some reason, and recently I was compelled to finish it. I doubt any of my original readers will notice but I have made a few minor changes now that I have one more year of English classes under my belt.