Marguerite Dubois blinked her eyes open wearily. She was lying on her deathbed, weak and frail despite only being 46 years of age. Her eldest child was slumped in a chair beside her, asleep. Her green eyes shut tight and her mouth slightly agape, fast asleep, despite the awkward positioning. Julianna Dubois - named after Meg's father, Jul. She had golden blond hair and a tanned complexion which had never been marred with acne and such, unlike her brother, Antoin Jacques Dubois, who was two years her junior. Antoin had been named after her mother, Antoinette Giry, while his middle name came from his father, Jacques Dubois. Antoin was a strapping young lad with broad shoulders and muscular arms, built much like Jacques, though he had Meg's blue eyes. Both father and son were in England for some important company meeting. The news of Meg's illness had been sent a few days ago, against her will. Meg hadn't wanted them to worry and travel back so she had avoided writing to them during her sickness for a fortnight. It was only a few days ago when her health had dropped significantly that Julianna had insisted on writing to them.

Meg watch her daughter sleep. Almost 21 years ago, she had given birth to the beautiful being which lay before her. No matter how alike mother and daughter looked, Julianna strongly resembled her father. Meg couldn't help but always see him when she looked at her daughter, much like what she was doing now.

Julianna rose from her sleep, and noticed her mother observing her.

"Are you feeling alright?" She asked, worriedly. Julianna was afraid that her mother was fading rapidly and wouldn't live long enough to see her father and brother return home.

Meg smiled, her face was worn and wrinkled but her blue eyes remained clear as they had always been, though sometimes Julianna could see a trace of sadness behind them. "I'm fine, my dear." She replied, "Just a little tired."

Julianna looked at her mother in sympathy. Her father was a good man and looked after his family well, but he was rarely around, and that was probably why her mother was so sad.

"Papa will be here soon," Julianna offered, trying to cheer her mother up.

Meg smiled weakly before shifting in her bed. "There is something I need you to do before your father comes back." She said with a sense of urgency in her voice.

Julianna looked at her mother curiously, "What is it?"

Her mother looked hesitant before explaining, "I need you to go to Opera Populaire in Paris where I grew up as a ballerina. Remember when I took you there a few years ago?" Julianna nodded before Meg continued. "It is under construction at the moment so you'll have to use on of the hidden side doors. Once inside, I want you to find your way towards the Prima Donna dressing room. The pink one that we visited. It will be in the abandoned part of the building so no one should be there." Marguerite paused to make sure her daughter was following. "In the dressing room there is that full length mirror on the wall. It slides open and is an entrance to the catacombs below the opera house. Do not enter the passageway or you may never emerge from them. I want you to place a white rose with a golden hair ribbon on the passageway side of the mirror. Close the mirror but stay in the room. Bring a book or something to do for half an hour or so and wait until you see a sign. If you don't see one, return home, but if you do then remain there. A man should reveal himself to you, tell him I sent you and that you are my daughter. Tell him to tell you the story, and that I wish to seem him once more before I die. If he seems resistant bribe him with this." Her mother procured a sealed letter and handed it to her. The envelope was blank apart from the wax seal her mother had used. "Return after you have spoken with him, understand?"

Julianna nodded. "When do you want me to leave Maman?"

"As soon as possible so that you can return sooner." Meg responded before reaching out to hug her daughter in farewell. The two embraced until Julianna was ready to head out and fulfill her mother's dying wish.

…

Two days later, Julianna stood in the pink dressing room designated for the Prima Donna clutching the white rose in one hand and a candle in a candle holder in the other. It hadn't changed much since she had last been here. The paintings on the wall were covered with cloth, protecting them from the layers of dust, which lay like a blanket upon every other surface. She set the rose down on the dusty vanity and used the candle to examine the mirror. It took a few minutes to locate the nearly invisible handle on the mirror. She pulled it hesitantly, and the mirror slid back with a loud screech. She jumped and paused, hoping no one had heard it. After a few moments when no one had come, she went over to tie the golden ribbon onto the flower and placed it gently on the stone floor of the catacomb. Holding her breath, she eased the mirror closed, relieved when it only let out small squeaks as it shut.

Julianna brushed off the dust on a chair and sat down by the candle, pulling out a book she had just started. Her parents had encouraged her and Antoin to learn English at a young age and while it had been painfully boring at the time, she was thankful for the knowledge now. The English language was becoming more common in France and it was a source of pride that she could continue an educated conversation in a tongue other than her native one. Her papa had brought her a book called Pride and Prejudice back from his last voyage to England. It was an English classic he had informed her, but it had taken her some time to truly sink her teeth into the book. She turned the page before realizing she hadn't been paying attention to the words and so she flipped back, focusing this time and losing herself in the story.

…..

Julianna started. The candlelight was beginning to flicker madly as the wick was almost done. She glanced at her watch and gasped out loud at the time. She'd been here for four hours now! She had been so absorbed in her book that she hadn't noticed the time flying by. She glanced at the mirror, looking for the sign her mother had mentioned but didn't notice anything. She searched around and found another candle and lit it to replace the dying one. Hesitantly, Julianna went to approach the mirror to examine it, her eyes falling onto the same white rose which lay on her side of the mirror, only it lacked the ribbon she had tied into it. Her eyes widened. How was that possible? She hadn't heard the mirror open, nor has she noticed anyone enter the room. She bent down to pick it up when something in the mirror caught her eye. It was then she remembered the stories that her Aunt Christine had told her when she was growing up, stories about the infamous and evil Opera Ghost. Mustering up all of her courage, Julianna felt for the handle and slowly pried open the mirror which squeaked as as it slid open. It was only halfway open when she found herself face to face with a tall man dressed in black. She yelped in fear. The man did not move, his green eyes sweeping over her, as if he was assessing her. Her face blanched as she recognized the white half mask on the right side of his face. Why did her mother want her to seek out the Phantom of the Opera?

…..

Many questions started popping into her head, but she remembered her mother's instructions.

In a timid voice which shook in fear, after all she was addressing the man who had killed at least two people without a care in the world and had haunted this place and kidnapped her aunt, "M-my m-mother sent me to find you...Monsieur."

The man said nothing, regarding her with a cold stare that sent shivers running down her spine. Taking a breath to gather her courage she pressed on. "My mother is called Marguerite Dubois née Giry. She is dying and has instructed me to find you and inform you that it is her dying wish to see you once again."

The phantom's gaze did not waver as he spoke. "Your mother is no longer my concern." His words were cold and harsh, but Julianna could have sworn that she saw something flicker in his eyes.

"But it is her dying wish," She insisted. "You would have to be cruel to deny something as important as this."

He said nothing, so she continued to talk, the words tumbling out of her mouth. "My name is Julianna Dubois her eldest child and only daughter -"

"I know who you are," The phantom snapped, cutting off her words. "Your mother is no longer any concern of mine, and I am clueless as to why she would send you here."

"You know my mother then?" Julianna asked, trying to get him to talk.

"I did." He said, putting emphasis on the "did".

It was then that her mother's other instructions creeped back into her mind. She felt for the crinkled letter in her pocket and took it out, waving it in front of the opera ghost. "My mother told me that you had a story to share with me, and in return I am to give you this."

The phantom looked at the letter, something foreign etched into the unmasked side of his face.

He sighed and offered her his hand, "Very well Mademoiselle Dubois, I will share with you the story of the opera ghost and the ballet rat."

Julianna glanced at the hand before stuffing the letter back on her pocket and taking his hand hesitatingly. She had to trust her mother's faith in this man and so setting aside her fear, she allowed him to lead her down the damp dark passageways that lead to his underground lair.

….

Julianna's eyes widened as his home off the lake came into sight. Christine had told her about it, but seeing it in real life was something else entirely. The phantom helped her out of the boat and led her to a small sitting room of sorts.

"Where to begin," he murmured once they had both been seated. His attitude had changed from when they had spoken by the mirror. He seemed more at peace now and was more willing to talk, much to Julianna's relief.

"Perhaps," he began, "It would be easier for you to tell me what you know, and I will pick up the pieces."

Julianna shrugged, "Assuming I am correct that you are the Opera Ghost, then I know all about your relationship with Aunt Christine, but I never knew that you and my mother were acquainted. I didn't even know you survived the opera house fire."

The phantom almost looked wounded at her words, "I am indeed the Opera Ghost, but your mother never spoke of me?" he asked,.

Julianna shook her head. "No, she spoke of you sometimes when Aunt Christine told me stories. She defended you occasionally and told me how you had been raised by gypsies until Grandmère rescued you."

The opera ghost seemed to relaxed a little at this, "I see."

He took a breath, "Well I suppose this story begins after I set the Opera Populaire on fire, destroying the home of countless people, that no doubt saw their lives go up in flames with their beloved opera house, in one selfish attempt to reclaim something that was never truly mine. As you know, I failed miserably. It was after the fire that I truly met your mother for the first time. Of course I had seen her grow up with the other ballet rats, and I had seen her dancing surpass them all. However, as you know, my attention was drawn to her adopted sister of sorts, Christine Daaé.

"After I freed Christine to be with her precious vicomte, I resigned myself for death. I was quite unwilling to continue living an empty, Christine-less life, and if I had had my way, I would have gladly perished here, many years ago. Fortunately and unfortunately, your mother saved my life. She reached me before the raging mob came and dragged me into a hidden passageway where we hid while the mob stormed and trashed my home. When they left, she disappeared, I thought that she had left me alone so I could die in peace, but twas not the case. She returned a few hours later with supplies; food and water, candles and clothes. She tried to get me to eat, but I refused, I had no reason to live. I wanted her to leave me so I could wallow in self-pity and die, but she was so stubborn. After a day of trying to coax me to eat and drink she got up and left. For some reason her abrupt departure made me feel a twinge of sorrow, but I didn't pay any attention to it.

"She came back later and urged me to get up and follow her. I didn't listen, for I was just as stubborn as her. She wouldn't give up and practically hauled me through this passageway all by herself. We emerged into the dark streets of Paris and she pushed me into a waiting carriage which took off as soon as we were inside. I don't remember anything after that, darkness swallowed my vision.

"I awoke later in a small room, lit up with sunlight that streamed through a window beside the bed which I lay in. The walls were a pale blue and were bare apart from two paintings of the sea. I learnt later that they were painted by Julien, Meg's father and your namesake. He was a sailor who drowned at sea when Meg was nine. I remember how devastated she and Antoinette were."

He sighed and got up. "Would you like some tea? This will be a long story."

"Please," Julianna said, and waited patiently for him to return. Although she was desperate for him to continue, she was glad for the small pause, which gave her time to process what she had just heard, and what she would likely hear. Her mother had saved the life of the phantom of the opera, who was, as her Aunt Christine put it, a manipulative and murderous man, who was barely a man when you removed his mask. Julianna shuddered, yet here she was, alone in his lair. Briefly she wondered if her mother would ever see her again once the phantom has finished his tale. She could only hope that the phantom has some form of respect for her mother, that would extend to her, allowing her to get out of this, alive.

A/N: Hope you like this, it's been on my computer and my mind for awhile. Funny story, I came up with this fanfic idea after being stuck in the sun for too long, and created the story aloud, the only thing that kept me sane while working in a massive garden alone for 8 hours. Obviously, some things have changed from the original story, but the ideas and names remain the same. I hope you like it ^_^
I plan for this to be 3-4 parts, about 2-3k words per chapter. Please favourite/follow and review because it makes my day, and works as good motivation. Thanks Xxx