Chapter 2: Clopin's Hat

"Faith, trust, and pixie dust," Clopin repeated skeptically.

"Yeah. Ya got it," Peter Pan said, still frowning at him. "But I bet it won't work on a GROWN-UP."

Tinkerbell, however, had deepest faith in Clopin/Pierre. She eagerly wriggled as much golden pixie dust onto Clopin, who had donned his large purple hat.

Her eyes shining, Tinkerbell looked at Pierre as if to ask, Are you ready?

Ready or not, Clopin's feet began to rise off the ground of their own accord. He cried out in surprise. It was a strange sensation to feel like he was falling slowly up. His legs were almost straight up in the air. He was not entirely unaccustomed to being upside down, as he did handsprings and back flips often enough. It was the floating part that was unnerving.

Clutching his hat to his head with one hand, Clopin screwed his eyes shut and shouted,

"MAMA! AU SECOURS!"

By now, it looked like Clopin was sitting down upside down.

Peter Pan, floating expertly himself, clapped Clopin's mouth shut with one hand – "Do you want everybody to wake up?" – and booted him into the proper position for flying; It was as if Clopin were lying on his stomach with his arms and legs stretched out.

Once he realized that he was actually safe, Clopin whispered in amazement, "Magnifique!" Slowly, his face split into a grin.

"Ha ha! I'm flying!"

With building confidence, Clopin soared upwards, followed closely by Tinkerbell.

Peter Pan mumbled grudgingly, "Here we go!" and took off after them.

Clopin and Tinkerbell flew though the air, stars overhead.

"Tinkerbell!" Clopin said, chuckling, "Look down!"

Peter Pan stared in dismay at Clopin's wagon. It was glittering with all of Tink's scattered pixie dust and was doggedly creaking in an effort to rise off the ground.

Clopin laughed out loud, giddy with flight. He spread out his arms on either side of him and sailed over and around Notre Dame Cathedral. He spotted Quasimodo leaning out of one of the windows, chin in hand.

The hunchback nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise at seeing Clopin's purple-clad body and yellow feather fly past. Quasimodo's jaw dropped in wonder.

Clopin whisked a finger in salute, winked, and flashed Quasimodo a large smile.

Quasimodo was too astonished to utter a word before Clopin had streaked away toward the moon.

"Esmeralda Esmeralda!"

Quasimodo waved his hands frantically when he spotted his gypsy friend standing on the Seine Bridge with Captain Phoebus. He skidded to a halt, breathing hard.

Esmeralda and Phoebus broke apart.

"Quasimodo," Esmeralda asked, unperturbed by his untimely interruption. "What's the matter?"

"I-I-I-saw-that-gypsy-who-tried-to-hang-us-fly-over-Notre-Dame!" he gasped out.

Phoebus rubbed the side of his neck, looking a little fazed. "Er Quasimodo, do you mind? Could it wait?" He glanced at Esmeralda.

Esmeralda's green eyes were wide open, in complete confusion.

"…Clopin?" she finally made out from Quasimodo's outburst.

Quasimodo nodded. "I saw him – flying – he was flying –" He pointed back at the bell towers of Notre Dame. "Up there. I saw him."

"I've seen him do handsprings and somersaults. But flying –" Phoebus said doubtfully.

"Maybe you had a dream about Clopin," Esmeralda suggested, putting her hand on Quasimodo's arm.

"No," he shook his head. "He even winked at me and did this." He pointed his finger Clopin-ishly.

Phoebus's eyebrows flew up. He turned around, leaving Quasimodo to Esmeralda's care. She spared him an annoyed glance before saying to Quasimodo, "Look. Phoebus and I will check on Clopin in the morning. I'm sure he's fine."

Quasimodo blinked uncertainly.

She smiled at him.

"Okay," he melted, and turned to return to the cathedral.

Once Quasimodo was gone, Phoebus inquired, "What was that all about?"

Esmeralda leaned her arms on the stone bridge rail and looked down at the flowing Seine dreamily.

"I have no idea," she replied. "You know, that's where I saved you from Judge Frollo." She nodded toward the marshy riverbank at the foot of the bridge.

"Yeah. I don't remember," Phoebus joked. He turned her towards him by her shoulders. "I don't think I ever thanked you for that."

He leaned closer.

Esmeralda suddenly gasped, and wrenched herself out of his grasp.

"Esmeralda –!" Phoebus exclaimed.

She was walking, backing up, her head tilted back, staring up at the sky. Phoebus ran over to her.

"Esmeralda what's the matt –"

She pointed, with a frown between her eyes.

Phoebus looked over his shoulder, craning his neck to see.

The large purple object drifted to the ground several feet away from them.

"What the –?" Phoebus began.

"It's his hat. It's Clopin's hat," Esmeralda said in a low, puzzled voice. She walked over and lifted it up gently. "It can't be."