Chapter 2
Lily Evans sat in front of her mirror brushing her hair, humming a soft tune to herself, the various candles around her room emitting a soft glow. She kept a tea light lit on her vanity near the mirror for aesthetic purposes. The tune she hummed was from the show they were rehearsing; tonight had been one of the last rehearsals before opening night and it was, unfortunately, McGonagall’s last night owning Palais Garnier Opera House. They had heard tales of the new owner, but they would be meeting them formally another time. Though it was her last night owning the opera house, McGonagall was still in charge of directing the opera house until closing night of the current show, the morning after which, the employees would formally meet the new owner.
Lily stopped humming and closed her eyes in preparation for what was to come. She heard footsteps and raised voices outside her room. The door burst open and the rest of the ballerinas hurried into the room. They all but surrounded Lily and screamed at her, their voices overlapping, squeals of excitement and terror, not a single word intelligible. Lily slammed her hands down on her vanity with a thud. “Be quiet, all of you!” she hissed. At once, the ballerinas all fell silent as one of them, Pandora, locked the door to Lily’s dressing room. “Now what is the matter with you?”
“Lily, we just saw the ghost!” Marlene said excitedly.
“It was terrifying, Lily! It was this floating skull with flaming eyes!” Peter said, chewing on his fingernails nervously.
“I can’t believe it, Lily, we really saw it!” Mary clung to Marlene’s arm, a wide grin on her face, her cheeks flushed with adrenaline.
“What ghost?” Lily asked, puzzled.
“The phantom of the opera house!” Pandora answered.
“Utter nonsense!” Lily said, matter-of-factly. “Phantoms don’t exist and even if they did, I seldom think one would be haunting the halls of this opera house.”
“But, Lily, we saw it!” Peter pressed.
Pandora nodded enthusiastically. “This life sized shadow! A dark figure, cloaked in black! We rounded the corner and it startled us!”
“Then it vanished before our very eyes!” Mary added.
“Just listen to you all! You sound like scared children!” Lily said indignantly.
“Barty Crouch Jr. says he saw it,” Peter offered.
“Says it tried to kill him before he barely escaped with his life!” Marlene agreed.
“Barty Crouch Jr. should have kept his mouth shut,” Lily said. “Maybe I’ll have a go at him, myself, for scaring my dancers like this.”
“My brother says he saw it, too,” Pandora countered.
“Oh, come on, now, Pandora! We all know Evan and Barty conspire to pull pranks like this on the house staff all the time, can we really trust their word? I’ll bet you anything, this was just them trying to get back at Remus, James, and Peter for that prank they pulled last week!” Lily reasoned.
“They’re not the only ones, though! A stagehand says he saw it, too! He’s been talking nonstop, spreading rumors, telling stories, making fun of the ghost!” Mary said.
James nodded. “He’s the one who really should’ve kept his mouth shut.”
“Why’s that?” Pandora asked.
“Because it’ll make the ghost angry, obviously!” James said, rolling his eyes.
“And you know this how?” Lily asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, my mum has this secret, see, she says she has private, face-to-face conversations with the ghost! In Box Number Five!”
“Why Box Five?” Marlene asked.
“Because it’s his private box,” James answered. “He occupies it during shows, McGonagall always leaves it open for him and never sells tickets to it.”
“Madame Potter said that?” Peter asked nervously.
James nodded. “That’s why I say, whoever was spreading those rumors, they should’ve kept their mouth shut.”
“James, do you know the meaning of the word ‘secret’?” Lily asked dryly.
James blinked at her. “Oh. Whoops.”
Lily groaned. “Too late now, you idiot.”
“What do you think will happen?” Mary asked.
“I don’t know, but whatever it is, it can’t be good,” James answered, seriously.
“Madame Potter has to be kidding around with us,” Peter stuttered.
“Oh, please! Miss Effie would never joke about this!” Mary reasoned.
“How can you be sure?” Peter asked.
“If there was a phantom, Miss Effie would want to keep us safe from it. So no more talk of this opera ghost, you hear?” Lily demanded. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was getting a little spooked. If talking about the ghost was what drew it to you, that was the one thing Lily didn’t want to do.
The rest of the ballerinas nodded. “Good now go on. We have a full day of rehearsals tomorrow.”
No sooner had Pandora unlocked the door than it had flown open, almost cracking off its hinges. Barty and Evan stood there, breathless and gasping for air. Pandora ran to her brother, a concerned look crossing her face.
“The ghost,” Barty choked out. “The ghost did it.”
“Did what?” Lily demanded, standing up suddenly, knocking over a perfume bottle. Mary picked it up for her, still clinging to Marlene, even tighter now.
“In the cellar,” gasped Evan, holding his heaving chest. “A stagehand.”
“What about it?” Lily said, her voice rising with anxiety.
“He’s dead,” Barty stood up again, finally beginning to catch his breath.
A gasp went around the room. “It just must be the ghost!” Peter exclaimed.
“Stop that!” Lily said.
“It’s true!” Evan insisted. “We saw it ourselves!”
“He was dangling from under the stage by a rope,” agreed Barty. “Still swinging, he was gone when we got there.”
Evan nodded, real panic in his eyes. “At the far end, a dark cloaked figure! He escaped, we called after him but we didn’t dare go any closer.”
“Why not?” asked James.
“Are you joking?” Barty said incredulously. “I want you to go ghost hunting and then come and tell me you didn’t nearly piss yourself!”
“There was a note left behind,” Evan continued.
“What kind of note?” pressed his sister.
“It was a letter,” he answered. “The page and envelope were yellow with age. It was sealed with red wax and stamped with a skull.”
“What did it say?” Marlene inquired.
“Well, you’d know if you let us bloody talk, wouldn’t you?” Barty snapped.
“Oh yeah, so mature of you!” Marlene shot back.
“The letter said to beware his fate,” Evan said after punching Barty who had already been preparing another comeback. “In other words, Barty should stop running his mouth while he’s ahead.”
Barty shot him a look and Evan held his gaze until he snorted and looked away grumpily.
“Quite right,” came a voice from behind them.
Evan and Barty awkwardly stumbled into the room to let in Euphemia Potter, the director of the dancers, followed by Remus Lupin. “Though your story is inaccurate.”
“What?”
“The poor victim was not found hanging by a rope, he was found on the floor,” Euphemia said. Behind her, Remus nodded at a questioning glance from James.
“You saw it?” Barty asked.
“Indeed,” Euphemia said. “There was no rope to be found.”
Barty and Evan’s faces paled. “I knew it! The ghost is coming for us all!” Peter panicked.
“Quiet, Peter!” hissed Lily.
“No no, she is right,” Euphemia said. “The phantom should be left in peace. No more stories, rumors, or gossip out of you all.” She looked at Barty pointedly, who shrunk a little under her infamous mothers’ glare. “Do I make myself clear?”
All of the dancers nodded solemnly, all letting out variations of “yes, Miss Effie” or “yes, Madame Potter”.
“Good. Now, goodnight, all of you,” Euphemia said gently, smiling at all of her students. She swept out of the room gracefully and James pushed his way through the group to catch up to his mother.