Éponine knocked on her brothers' door before opening it. They looked about ready for bed, as she had expected.

"Gavroche? Can you come out here for a moment? I want to ask you something."

The oldest brother exchanger glances with the other boys. They were all dubious, as evidenced when no one said anything. "You're not in trouble," Éponine said as kindly as she could. "It'll just take a minute."

Mutely, Gavroche slid out of his bed and padded over to the hall. Éponine closed the door and smiled. It seemed like it had been such a long time since she'd smiled at any of her siblings; she felt like she was grossly overcompensating.

"Thank you. Now I just want to know: the club that Courfeyrac takes you to, what is its name?"

Gavroche frowned. "Um, um...I sorta don't know the whole thing. It's really long."

"Is it the Friends of the ABC?" Éponine prompted.

Gavroche's eyes lit up. "I think that's it."

"And who's the leader?"

This question he knew. "Enjolras!" he said at once. "He's really cool. He treats me just like his older friends!" There was a touch of pride in his voice.

So Gavroche knew Enjolras, and what's more, he appeared to be on better terms with him than Éponine was. But that was enough for one night. She didn't want Gavroche to think like he was being used for her own selfish reason of getting to know Enjolras.

"Okay, merci. That's all."

Gavroche looked her cautiously, like she was going to retract her statement, but decided she wouldn't. In one fluid movement, he turned and disappeared into his room again before Éponine changed her mind.

Éponine retreated into the kitchen and sat the table, a piece of paper and pencil in front of her. She swiftly wrote down her possible contacts at the moment. Gavroche was friends with both Enjolras and Courfeyrac. She was friends with Courfeyrac and Musichetta. Both of them were friends with Enjolras. So many mutual relationships, yet a direct one was nearly nonexistent. Éponine searched through her bag and pulled out that scrap that had Enjolras's number on it. She hadn't looked at since Musichetta had given it to her. Slowly, Éponine entered the number into her phone. One press of a button and she would be connected to him.

Éponine looked at the screen and then shook her head quickly, deleting the number. "He's probably studying right now," she said, ignoring the fact that it was very late at night. "I'll see him next week."

I'm bad at this "making friends" thing.

In a crowded hallway outside one of the classrooms of Normale, two students were talking as others rushed and pushed their way to their next classes.

"He's been off, if you ask me," Combeferre. "I mean, when was the last time Enjolras forgot something? And not just that, he's just been acting so...strange lately, don't you think?"

"It's probably the stress getting to him," Courfeyrac said. "His schedule this year is insane. Taking all those tough classes, running Les Amis, and he never takes a break. Those hour and a half coffee stints don't cut it, in my opinion. He needs a good vacation, somewhere south."

Combeferre shook his head. "I don't think that's it. It's like he's—"

"Why are you two standing there looking all secretive?" Enjolras interrupted, coming up behind them with a frown on his face. "Are you gossiping about people again?"

Combeferre laughed nervously. "'Course not, Alex," Combeferre said, accidentally using Enjolras's given name. Enjolras's eyes flickered, registering the slip, but he decided to let it slide.

"Well, come on, you'll be late if you keep on whispering here in the corridor."

At their seats, Enjolras turned around to ask Courfeyrac, "Are you still bringing Gavroche to the meetings?"

"Yeah, if you want," Courfeyrac said. "Why?"

"I want to talk to him about something."

"What?"

Enjolras was saved from answering by the professor calling for attention. Courfeyrac pressed his lips together, disappointed. His head was suddenly filled with theories. He stared at the back of Enjolras's head. Gavroche…what would Enjolras have to talk to him about?

"Gavroche!" Enjolras called over to the young boy after the others were departing from the meeting. "Do you have a moment?"

"Well, long as it really is just a moment," Gavroche said in his usually cheeky manner. "My sister's going to be here any minute."

"Sister?" Enjolras asked, legitimately taken aback for a moment. He hadn't expected Gavroche to beat him to the subject matter, a theory he had been working on for some time now. She's going to be here? "Don't you normally go home with Courfeyrac?"

"Yeah, well. He's doing something later on. Hey, speaking of sisters, she was asking about you a few days ago."

"She was?" Enjolras said quickly. "What did she want to know?"

"She was asking about who the leader of Les Amis is. So I told her."

"And this sister," Enjolras said, "she's coming here?"

Gavroche paused. "Uh, wait…oh!" He laughed. "I meant to say—" Gavroche frowned and looked around Enjolras into the hallway. "Hey, she's here! 'Zelma!"

'Zelma?

"Gavroche—"

But the boy had already flown around Enjolras and into the hall. Enjolras spun around and hesitantly followed the young boy. "Hold on, Gavroche, I don't think—" He stopped suddenly. "Hello."

Gavroche grinned. "Enjolras, this is my sister, Azelma."

Azelma nodded. "Nice to meet you."

Enjolras was having trouble speaking. A few emotions were streaming through him, relief and confusion the two most prominent. "Ah, yes. Nice to meet you." Azelma looked somewhat like Éponine. Darker hair and lighter eyes. A bit of a tousled appearance to her. Enjolras blinked several times. "Gavroche?"

"Yeah?"

"What is your other sister's name?"

"Éponine."

Enjolras opened his mouth and then closed it. "Right. Thanks. Bonne nuit. I'll see you next week." Without another word, he retreated into the room and closed the door.

Azelma let out a little laugh as soon as he was gone. "Is he always that weird?"

"No," Gavroche said defensively. "I think he's got something on his mind."

The two had walked all the way back to their apartment when Gavroche spoke up. "Wait," he said, as Azelma rummaged around in her bag for the key.

"What is it?"

Gavroche bit his lip and looked fervently around the darkened corridor, even though there was no one there to eavesdrop. "I think…I think there might be something going on between Enjolras and…" He trailed off before finishing his thought.

"Who?" Azelma asked.

"Well—" Gavroche shifted awkwardly and jerked his head toward the door.

Azelma's eyes widened in shock. "Éponine?" she whispered. Gavroche nodded. Azelma made a face. "What, you think they're crushing on each other?"

"Not like that!" Gavroche yelped, looking horrified at the thought. "But a few days ago, she was talking to me about him. And then you saw Enjolras just now, how he was all jumpy when I mentioned that I had a sister. I think that he was expecting Éponine to be coming and not you. That's why he was acting funny."

Azelma let out a little laugh. "All right, Gavroche, whatever you say. You know him better than I do." She returned back to her bag, but Gavroche stopped her again.

"Hey, 'Zelma?"

"Yeah?"

Gavroche frowned at the ground, not looking at her. "Don't—don't mention—that I told you this. Y'know. Inside." No other words had to be voiced for Azelma to understand what Gavroche was asking for. "Thought maybe it'll embarrass her. I…I don't want her thinking that I'm out to get her. She probably already thinks that I don't like her."

Azelma patted her brother on the shoulder, a nonverbal agreement. "She doesn't think that, Gavroche. I know that for a fact. Don't worry about it." Azelma remembered the argument she and Éponine had had, when Éponine had been so frantic to find him. "But I don't think mind if you talked to her about other things."

"Other things, what'd you mean?"

"Things that you talk about with the other boys, with me."

"…That's too weird," Gavroche said. "She's not you, or Laurier, or Théo."

"Well, you gotta start somewhere, don't you?" Azelma pointed out. "It doesn't have to be a real in-depth conversation, or even be every day that you talk to her. Even just a few words would probably make her happy."

"What, that worked for you?" Gavroche wondered.

"Haven't tried it," Azelma said bluntly.

"Then how am I sure it's gonna work?" Gavroche demanded.

"That's why you have to try it," Azelma explained. "And I bet that the others will follow your lead if you start it. They're like ducklings."

"And you?" Gavroche asked. "What are you doing?"

"You forget about me," Azelma said. "I'll take care of my own problems, you take of yours." She turned the key in the lock and opened the door.

Musichetta was in her dorm at school, sitting on her bed. Loud orchestra music was playing from the other side of the room. Running a hand through her hair, she got up for a glass of water, grabbing her phone as she went. The screen displayed one missed call from Éponine. Musichetta raised her eyebrows and made to call back, but not before receiving another incoming call.

"Hello?"

"Okay, okay, you were right," came Éponine's voice.

"What?"

"Enjolras? The guy you've been bothering me about for the last month practically?"

"And the bothering worked?" Musichetta said excitedly.

"Afraid so," Éponine replied. "Anyway, I'm gonna need some more help, and I don't think we'll have time to discuss it at work."

"What with?"

"What do I talk to him about tomorrow? I'm going to see him at the Musain, most likely. I—I talked to him last week and it was a nightmare. I don't want to have to go through that again."

"Find out what he likes," Musichetta said, shouldering phone to knot her hair up. "Hobbies, interests."

"Isn't that too…girlfriend-boyfriend type of stuff? It'd feel a little like a date if I asked that sort of stuff," Éponine argued.

"Well…why don't you talk about something that you know he already likes?" Musichetta suggested. There was a silence on the other end while Éponine considered this.

"Law?" Éponine finally said. "I don't know the first thing about that."

"His club," Musichetta said. "You can probably talk to him for a while about that. You don't even really need to talk much, just listen, and that'll work. Joly tells me he's all about Les Amis."

"Yeah…yeah, I think that'll be okay," Éponine said.

"No think," Musichetta said sternly. "Will. It will be okay. Good?"

"Yeah, thanks, Musichetta."

"No problem. And if all else fails, just talk about me."

A laugh. "Okay, sure."

"Go get 'im, 'Ponine."