Thanks for all the reviews guys! They really make my day :)

I've been told I've been spelling Enjolras wrong, and I'm really sorry about that I genuinely had no idea! But I changed it for this chapter and plan to go back and correct it in the previous ones. I hope all my other spelling are correct :P Here's Chapter 6 hope you enjoy it!

The centre of District 12 consisted of the Justice Building, the Hob, a few market stalls and a single tavern run by some very dodgy characters. It was a place neither Courfeyrac nor Clara particularly desired to go to, but was very popular with a lot of residents. The prices weren't bad and it gave people the chance to have a drink with their mates and forget about the mine and the pressures of the Capitol.

It came at a cost though. Run by the Thénardiers, there was no telling how many of your possessions you would still own by the end of your night out. Expert pickpockets and manipulative schemers, they were the lowest of the low in the District 12 community, not that they let this stop them. They had two daughters, Eponine and Azelma, and three sons. The Thénardiers had no interest in their sons and so as soon as they were able to walk they were turned out on the street. Enjolras was shocked to learn these were the three boys he encountered on his first visit to District 12 all those years ago. The eldest, Enjolras remembered, had died in the Hunger Games and the Thénardiers didn't even care. They loved their daughters though, Eponine and Azelma were two of the most spoilt children in 12, and for this reason, weren't very popular among the children.

One day when Clara had finished trading in the Hob, just after she had turned fourteen, she noticed a third little girl sweeping outside the Thénardiers tavern. While Eponine and Azelma had dark brown hair, this girl was light blonde, darkened by dirt and dust. Intrigued, Clara went over to her.

The little girl didn't notice her approaching. The nearer Clara got the more cautious she was. She remembered what it's like to be a scared little girl and have a stranger walk up to you. Luckily for her however, her encounter had ended very well. Still a distance away from the girl, Clara bent down to her eye level. She was still intensely concentrated on her sweeping, as if her life depended on it. In a way, it did.

'Hello,' Clara said gently. The little girl looked up, she immediately stopped sweeping, but her hands tightened around the broom.

'My name's Clara,' she continued, 'What's yours?'

The little girl stared at her, but gave no answer.

Clara tried another approach. 'I haven't seen you around before? Do you like with the Thénardiers, or are you just visiting?'

At the mention of the family's name, the little girl took up her sweeping again, frantically pushing grime and dirt out of the entrance. Clara sighed, and was about to walk away, when she caught sight of a black bin liner, and noticed all the drinking bottles and food wrappers filling the streets. Wanting to help the little girl, she picked up the bag, and began collecting the litter. The little girl looked at her quizzically, but kept on sweeping. For a while they worked in silence, until Clara had collected all the rubbish and was tying up the bag.

'Where do you put the bins?' she asked, as if she had always worked at the tavern. With her eyes, Cosette motioned to an alleyway, where other bin liners were sitting piled on top of each other. Clara deposited hers and looked to see if there was anything else she could do.

'Cosette,' the little girl said, as she lay down her broom.

'Pardon?'

'My name is Cosette, I've lived with the Thénardiers for as long as I can remember, they just make me work inside out of sight. Thank you.'

It took a while for Clara to process this answer. The Thénardiers had had another child this entire time? And hidden her away as some sort of slave? Cosette said her words so dejectedly it broke Clara's heart. She thought of a time she had been in a similar situation to this child, though not quite the same.

'Are they….your parents?'

'No, they are my guardians.' Cosette gave a small smile. 'I do not know my father, but my mother is beautiful, she pays for me to stay here with her earnings from Monsieur Madeleine's workshop.'

Monsieur Madeleine had arrived in District 12 a few years ago now, shortly after the mining disaster. When he heard about the accident and the many fatherless families, he set up a textiles factory to allow the widows to earn money for their children. He had been a godsend to the people, and often went around the town offering money to the poor. He was quite wealthy now, but everyone liked him anyway. Clara had never met the man personally, but had heard many great things about him. However at the moment she was livid the Thénardiers had the nerve to treat someone else's child the way they were treating Cosette. Such rage built up inside her she had not experienced in quite a while.

'Cosette,' a gruff voice came from inside, 'Come in 'ere, we've got some more jobs for you to do. And if that streets not spankin' your in for it kid!'

Cosette's smile that had formed telling Clara about her mother faded and she looked pained and on the verge of tears. Clara made an instant decision, and sounding braver than she felt, she called back in,

'No!'

Cosette froze on the spot; she wouldn't even look at Clara. A few muffled voices came from within and Monsieur Thénardier emerged from the darkness. He was staring straight at Cosette.

'What do you mean, 'no'?' he hissed. Cosette sank to the ground as the man towered over her, she turned away her head and closed her eyes, and Clara realised she was preparing for a beating. As Monsieur Thénardier raised his hand, Clara put herself in between him and Cosette, but Thénardier noticed too late. His fist made harsh contact with the side of her head and she fell to the ground dazed, but still seeing clearly. It hadn't happened in a while, but it was not something Clara had never experienced before.

Thénardier looked incredibly confused, he was looking at Cosette as if thinking, 'I did hit her right?' Cosette was simply astounded Clara had taken the blow for her. Thénardier eventually realised what had happened.

'What did you do that for, girl?' he said the last word with particular disdain, 'This is no concern of yours.'

Clara stood up, and all her fear melted away as she felt blood trickle down the side of her face. This man was just a bully, and she had dealt with bullies before. She had learnt a long time ago never to give them the satisfaction.

'Actually it is my business. When you are abusing little girls for no apparent reason! What right have you to hit her? What right had you to hit me!'

'If you had just stayed out of my business, your pretty little face would have gone unharmed. Run back home to your mummy, little girl and don't think about crossing me again, or there'll be hell to pay!'

'You know what?' Clara replied, 'I think I'll do just that. Coming Cosette?'

Thénardier stared at her. Cosette did the same, but with admiration.

'If you think…' Thénardier began,

'Yes.' Cosette whispered, then she paused. 'Yes!' she repeated with more confidence.

'Why you little…' Thénardier cursed.

'Cosette, do you have anything you would like to bring with you?' Clara interrupted.

Cosette nodded.

'Would you like to go and get it?'

Cosette nodded again, and she ran back inside.

Thénardier grabbed Clara aggressively by her upper arm, and pulled her closer to him, so he was spitting right in her face. 'I know you think your some kind of hero, but I think you need to be taught a lesson about putting your nose in other people's business.'

He pressed his body up against hers. In retaliation, Clara kicked him where it hurt. He let go of her and doubled over in pain. Clara backed away. Cosette emerged from the inn.

'Cosette, get behind me,' Clara said calmly. Cosette readily obeyed, she was holding a makeshift doll made up of rags.

Clara's vision focused on Thénardier. 'I'd like to say it was nice to meet you, but I think we both know who's the liar around here.' Then with her hand firmly on Cosette's shoulder, Clara turned away from the tavern.

Thénardier could only look on as his ward walked away with a girl he had never met before, but who had been brave enough to take a beating and defy his will. What on earth was he going to tell his wife?

'So,' Clara began, walking away with Cosette, 'Tell me more about your mother.'

As Cosette spoke, telling Clara how beautiful and kind and amazing her mother was, Clara's mind wandered. She hoped it was because of her head injury, but even through her concussion she knew what was in the back of her mind. Her encounter with Thénardier had brought her back to her childhood, and a time she hoped never to return to. Suddenly her thoughts were interrupted with a new concern, when she returned with Cosette, what was Courfeyrac going to say?

Appreciate reviews but hope you appreciate the story more!