In the huge Notre-Dame cathedral, the mighty bells sang out their beautiful song conducted by none other than the hunchback bell-ringer. The Archdeacon was lighting the candles to prepare for the night that was approaching fast when there was a bang on the door. He went to go open the highly detailed entrance, and a girl around the age of nineteen sprinted inside the church, wearing extremely dirty clothes. She had dirt smudged on her face in various places. Her luscious brown hair was incredibly straight in some places and completely blown about in other places. She looked terrified and she was trembling something fierce. He couldn't tell if it was from the cold or from outright fear.

"My child, are you alright?"

She looked at him with that wild fear in her eyes and passed out onto the floor. The Archdeacon ran over to her as did other monks in the cathedral who were nearby.

The fear was still plastered onto her face, even in unconsciousness. He wondered what could possibly have made her so terrified.

"We'll take her up to the bell tower. She will be well cared for there."

Judge Claude Frollo came down from the bell tower having just finished his meal with his adopted son, Quasimodo.

"Is everything alright?" he asked in a way that sounded like he didn't really care at all.

"She seems to have swooned, but she's fine," the Archdeacon replied.

Frollo left without another glance at the girl. The Archdeacon took her and carried her up all the stairs all the way to the high bell tower.

"Quasimodo!" he called out.

The red-haired young man appeared before him.

"This girl needs a place to stay for the time being and I knew she would do well up here. Look after her and let me know when she has awakened."

He gently handed the girl over to Quasimodo's tender arms and left to go prepare the cathedral once more.

Quasimodo looked at the girl in his arms, fast asleep. She was so beautiful, even though dirt caked her entire form. She was direly in need of a cleaning and a new dress. He took her over to where he slept and laid her there. There wasn't much, not even a bed, but simply a makeshift one made out of little pillows the Archdeacon had given him as a boy.

He looked at her again, taking in the fact that someone besides Frollo and the Archdeacon was up here with him.