Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunchback of Notre Dame or anything to do with it. However, I do own Diamanta Devereux, her father, Oliver, Cecile Devereux, Madame Doreen,and Judge Thomas Gautier.

Note: No, the story isn't finished. I, too, am a Clopin fan and refuse to finish the story with such a terrible ending as I have in this piece of it. I don't know how many chapters there will be, but there'll be enough for the story to make all Clopin fans fulfilled.

Chapter #8

They entered a rough-looking bar.

"Is this your Court of Miracles?" he asked in a slightly surprised tone. Diamanta shook her head.

"Watch," she whispered as she strode up to the bartender with a missing eye. He spat and looked at her in the eye.

"What be the meaning of someone like you coming into a place like this?" he growled.

"My brother and I would like to see our darling sister, Ruth," Diamanta replied. Without a single work, the bartender led them to a back room which consisted of a table and a life-sized painting of a drunken sailor. He gave an almost friendly nod and left the two of them alone in the room. Diamanta pushed the painting to the side, which revealed a long stairway. She began to walk downward and beckoned him to follow. He stood completely still and a small bead of sweat dripped down his face.

He's terrified of the dark, Diamanta thought, which brought an amused smile to her face. Never had she heard of someone as old as him with such a childish fear. She walked back up the stairs and held out her hand for his to hold. He took her hand and they walked down the stairs together. His hands are as cold as ice! What must have happened to him as a child to give him such a fright? Diamanta thought to herself.

"Thank you for standing up against Gautier," she said sweetly, trying to start a conversation.

"Someone had to. I never did like him much, Miss, um, what is your name?" he said. Diamanta admired his voice, how he spoke with a strange sort of rhythm, as if he were reciting poetry.

"Diamanta, and yours?" she asked. Diamanta suddenly realized how warm his hands became after he heard her name.

"Oliver," he said. He waited for Diamanta to say something. After a few awkward seconds of silence, Oliver spoke again. "Are gypsies always discriminated against?" Diamanta was surprised by the question. Since she had not answered so quickly, Oliver obviously thought of it as a sensitive question. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I shouldn't have brought it up." Diamanta felt his hand heat up with embarrassment.

"Oh, it's not an emotional question. I just haven't been asked that before." She felt Oliver's hand go back to its normal temperature.

"Well, are you always discriminated against?"

"Do you remember when the gypsy Esmeralda was almost burned because she was a 'witch'?"

"Yes."

"That was nothing more than discrimination. Frollo hated gypsies and he wanted her dead." Oliver gasped softly.

"Rumor has it that he was in love with her."

"He wasn't really in love, Oliver. If he loved her, he wouldn't want her dead." Again a long silence broke out between them. This time Diamanta spoke first. "Be careful, Oliver. I think there may be a small crack in the staircase so try not to trip."

"Oomf!" It was too late. The small slit in the staircase had caused Oliver to fall face-forward. Diamanta made an attempt to jerk him back into a standing position, but only got pulled in with him, their legs entangled with each other's. She felt a scrape on her leg as it grated against the rough stone wall. They fell in a heap at the bottom of the staircase, Diamanta landing on top of Oliver. A torch was lit and she looked up to see Clopin shaking his head and clicking his tongue at them.

"Who's this?" he asked in a judgmental voice as he tried to fight away the sly smirk that was beginning to form across his face.

"Shut up," Diamanta said as she pulled herself off him and helped him up. Before she could properly explain what happened, Clopin had already pulled out his hand puppet.

"Ooh, is he her beau?" the puppet squeaked with excitement.

"Of course not, puppet!" Clopin exclaimed. "We have never seen him before. He's obviously no more than her boy toy that she's been trying to hide from us." Diamanta put her head in her hands.

"Oliver, meet Clopin, the gypsy king." Oliver looked at her in a way that clearly said Are you serious? Diamanta nodded yes. Oliver forced a kind smile and held out his hand for Clopin to shake. Clopin took it and shook it furiously.

"So, how did you two meet?" Clopin asked in the same manner a father would when talking to his daughter's first boyfriend.

"Judge Thomas Gautier tried to arrest her because he claimed she was a witch, and I stood up for her," Oliver began. When he finished his story, Clopin still gave him the same judgmental look.

"I still want to know how I found her lying on top of you." Diamanta gave him a sly smile.

"That's a story we'll take to our grave," she said as she took Clopin's torch and walked down the long hallway, swinging her hips to add an effect to her raunchy explanation. Clopin narrowed his eyes at Oliver.

"You didn't really—" he began.

"Oh, no sir! We've just met," Oliver said nervously. In the blink of an eye Clopin pulled out two torches, only one of them lit. He touched the second torch to the first one's and it burst into orange flames. He handed the second torch to Oliver, who quickly took it. Clopin walked by his side into the Court of Miracles.

Oliver's eyes grew wide. He had expected something much, much smaller. Large wagons where stationed everywhere while hundreds of gypsies bustled around with their everyday lives.

"You live here?" Oliver asked. Clopin laughed.

"That was the same thing Diamanta said when she saw the Court of Miracles."

"What took you so long?" Diamanta's voice called from her bright yellow wagon. Clopin strode up to her, Oliver trailing close behind. "Welcome to the Court of Miracles," Diamanta said warmly. Oliver smiled at her. What a handsome grin, Diamanta thought. Her thoughts must have clearly shown up on her face, because Clopin gave her a sly smirk. She pretended to ignore him and turned back to Oliver.

"Don't just stand there," she said playfully, "come in." Diamanta reached out a helping hand to pull Oliver into the wagon. Clopin pulled himself into the wagon after him.

"Don't even try to hide, Clopin! Come here!" The three of them poked their heads out of Diamanta's wagon to see Madame Doreen, who appeared to be even wider, searching the wagons for the king of gypsies. Clopin released a loud, fabricated sigh and jumped out of the wagon, exposing himself. Diamanta quietly closed the wagon door.

"What was that about?" Oliver asked.

"Probably nothing. Clopin is always getting into trouble with Madame Doreen."

"What is going to become of us? We can't leave this place, or else we'll be arrested," Oliver said, quickly changing the subject. Diamanta shrugged.

"Things will smooth out. Clopin knows how to protect his people. We're going to be fine."

"But what if things don't smooth out? What if something terrible happens?" Oliver said in a worried tone. If Diamanta knew him better, she would have put a reassuring arm around his shoulder. Oh, why not? Diamanta thought to herself. If it wasn't for him I would have been dead. That makes us close enough. She gave him a kind smile and pulled him into a half-hug.

"Everything will be just fine."

To her great surprise, Oliver reached out with two open arms and caught her in a tight embrace. For a moment she was stiff with shock. After a few seconds, she relaxed herself and tentatively lifted her other arm to pull him closer. She felt his chest moving against hers as he took several deep breaths. She felt their hearts beating in unison, the warmth of his body pressing against hers.

She ventured to bury her nose in his curly hair. He smelled of freshly baked bread and sweet pastries, mixed in with the clean scent of Paris after a long rainfall. What are you doing? a small voice in Diamanta's head screamed. You don't even know him! She didn't care. It just felt so right. She pulled away from him slightly to stare into those breathtaking eyes. Oliver slowly leaned toward her and kissed her softly on her lips. She kissed him back, pressing her lips onto his soft, rose petal-like ones.

"So he is her boy toy! I would have never guessed!" a squeaky voice exclaimed from the open wagon door. Oliver and Diamanta whipped their heads around to see Clopin sitting cross-legged at the end of the wagon, his puppet on his right hand.

"See, I told you! We were never able to trust that Diamanta!"

"But I would have never believed she would actually do something like this," the puppet continued. Clopin looked up at the two, as if just noticing they were both giving him angry looks.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I interrupt something? My puppet and I were just having a little chat. Continue," Clopin said plainly, as if simply commenting on the weather.

"I should go," Oliver whispered as he left the wagon.

"Your wagon is the blue one next door," Clopin said as he waved goodbye in a mock-dainty fashion. In one fluid motion, Clopin had closed the door and now sat six inches away from Diamanta. "So," he said in a voice that mimicked the majority of the teenage girls he encountered in his life, "how was it? What did it feel like? How did you feel? When're you going to start dating?" Diamanta crossed her arms.

"This is serious, Clopin."

"Oh, Dia, you know I'm only joking," Clopin said in his normal voice. "But really, how did you two suddenly get so close?" Diamanta smiled and lay down on the cushioned wagon floor. She closed her eyes and replayed everything back in her head. "That great, eh?" Clopin said with a small smile.

"It was amazing, Clopin."

"How amazing?" Clopin said in a curious voice.

"Watching-Esmeralda-spit-in-Frollo's-face amazing." Clopin's eyes grew wide.

"Whoa."

"Yes, that amazing."

"No, that's not what I'm whoa-ing about." Even though her eyes were closed, Diamanta gave Clopin a confused expression.

"What are you talking about?"

"I just realized one good reason why I'm single. I talk to teenage girls about their love lives with fascination." Diamanta laughed, but when she opened her eyes, Clopin was not smiling.

"You're not really bothered by that, are you?" Diamanta asked. Clopin shook his head truthfully. "You like Oliver, don't you?" she asked after a few seconds of thinking. Clopin nodded truthfully.

"I'm fine, Dia. I'm just fine." Clopin smiled kindly. For less than a second, Diamanta saw a flicker of something behind that smile. Could it be anger? Frustration? Hatred? Or perhaps, Diamanta thought to herself, jealously.