Laurens On Your Side
"I suppose I'll start," Lafayette said. "As you might've heard our dear Professor try to say, I'm Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette." He paused to grin at them. "But I go by Lafayette, or Laf for short."
Alexander snorted. "That's a relief."
"Very much so," the boy named Hercules said. "But how come you're here? No offence, but your name doesn't sound very English."
Lafayette's grin grew wider. He leaned back and put his arms behind his head.
"Let's just say," he drawled, "that you British people have very sloppy security systems."
"We're not British!"
Lafayette raised his hands in surrender at the unanimous shout.
"Merde. Okay, fine. The British then."
The boy, whose name Alex still didn't know, nodded in satisfaction. "Better."
"So," Lafayette continued, his little smirk returning, "I heard that a bunch of Americans would come here, I decided that I was tired of Beauxbatons, and so I snuck on the train and put my name on the list of students."
A stunned silence filled the room.
"You … snuck on the train and admitted yourself to the school because you didn't like your own?" Hercules Mulligan finally said.
"Yep."
"How did you not get sorted into Slytherin?"
Lafayette shrugged, the grin still not leaving his face. "Don't know. But I'm here to bless you all with some French elegance."
"It's a pleasure to have you here," Hercules said, rolling his eyes. "Well, if you're done I suppose I'll introduce myself. I'm Hercules Mulligan, but I usually go by my surname due to connections to a certain Greek hero." He grimaced. "Yeah."
"Nice to meet you," Lafayette said. "And you're American?"
"Yeah, I think we all are." Mulligan paused to look around at the other two, who nodded in confirmation. "On that note, where are all the British kids?"
Alexander shrugged, sharing a glance with the unnamed boy.
"Dunno," the guy said. "Maybe they have their own dormitory."
"Wouldn't be surprised," Mulligan muttered. "Anyways, who are you two?"
They looked at each other.
"Do you want to start or ..?" Alex asked.
"Yeah okay, sure." He cleared his throat. "I'm John Laurens. Eh, I'm from South Carolina, and I like turtles." He shrugged. "Hi."
"Hello," Alexander said as the two others waved. "Pleasure to meet you."
A second passed, and he became aware that the others were all looking at him.
"Oh, yeah. I'm Alexander. Alexander Hamilton. Raised in New York, and now I'm here." He gave them an awkward thumbs up. Great introduction, Alex. Real smooth.
But the others just laughed.
"Good to meet you, Alexander," John said.
"I'm sure we'll all be great friends," Lafayette said, stretching his arms over his head. "Well, I hope so, since I'll have to live with you for a whole year regardless."
Hercules snorted. "Same, man."
John yawned.
"Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Alexander, involuntarily, yawned too.
"Look at the two drowsy kittens," Lafayette smirked. "We should let them have their beauty sleep."
"Kittens?" Alexander protested.
"Yeah, come on," John added. "We're, like, mighty lions."
Lafayette looked at them. Then at Mulligan. Then back to them.
"Yes. Kittens," he decided.
Alexander rolled his eyes at him as Mulligan burst into laughter.
"Amazing," he said, drying tears from the corners of his eyes. "Sure, let the fuzzies have their sleep."
John, like the mighty lion he'd proclaimed himself, stuck out his tongue at the two boys and slammed his curtain shut. Through the fabric that now effectively shielded John and himself from the others Alexander could still hear muffled laughter. He felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards.
"Very dignified, cat-boy."
"Not you too," John moaned, falling down on his back and drawing his pillow over his face. "I regret ever coming here!"
Alexander pouted. "Awwww."
John, peeking out from his pillow, glared at him.
"Stop with the puppy eyes."
Alexander hung his head, forcing down the laughter that was bubbling in his throat. He kept his eyes on John.
Finally the boy caved.
"Fine!" He flung away the pillow and sat up. "I don't totally hate being here."
"Yay," Alexander said. He was about to say something mor, but was distracted by the way John's hair stuck out at all angles from having being mauled by his pillow. "Your hair's a mess."
John sighed, running his fingers through it. "I know. It always is."
"But, like, in a good way."
John looked up at him, and Alexander's breath caught in his throat.
"I mean—!" he started. "It's looks okay, I didn't—"
Thankfully though, John just blushed and looked down.
"Thanks," he mumbled.
Alexander cringed internally. Stupid. Even if John hadn't seemed offended or disgusted, that had been very, very stupid—
"Guys!" came Mulligans voice through the curtains. "I thought you were tired? You don't sound like you're sleeping very much." His voice was lined with laughter.
"Shut up!" Alexander called back.
"Your business, I guess."
Alex buried his face in his hands, a long groan escaping from his lips.
"Holy cows, we'll have to live with those the whole term aren't we?" John muttered.
Alex, letting his hands drop, sighed. "I'm afraid so."
John mumbled something that might've been a curse, or a very intricate hex.
"Protect me from them," he sighed, crawling down under his covers. "I'm going to sleep."
Alexander laughed, and even though John didn't open his eyes, he smiled a little.
x
The new day dawned with clear skies and approaching classes. Just as Alexander had feared, the school was a dwindling maze of stairs and corridors, and they got lost twice just on their way to breakfast. But their fellow Gryffindors—who, due to alleged space issues, were indeed housed in another dormitory—were helpful enough. The real issue were the lessons.
Even though Alexander had done his best to keep up with his studies, and even though he'd read his books from cover to cover before he started, he was still behind the others. The theoretical work went fine enough and he was quite sure that he could make do with it, but the spells … At the end of his transfiguration class he quickly shoved his still unchanged hamster into Professor McGonagall's box. And as if seeing it run around the goblets—his classmates' successfully transfigured rodents—wasn't bad enough, she also gave him extra homework.
"Learn the spell, mister Hamilton," she said stiffly before moving on.
History of Magic went better, however, and Alexander managed to score five whole points to Gryffindor for remembering all the key dates in the gigant wars. John, who sat next to him, dunked him in the back.
"Great work, Alex," he whispered. The compliment—and the nickname—sent a small shock through Alexander, who grinned happily at John.
x
His bright mood was dulled slightly at their last lesson though. Alexander frowned down into his cauldron, feeling the piercing eyes of professor Snape bore into his neck. A mysterious brown-green sludge simmered inside it, and he desperately flipped through his book in an attempt to find out what to do.
Add five chopped shrivelled figs
What the hell was a shrivelled fig?
He desperately rummaged through the scattered ingredients on his table, trying not to breath in the fumes emerging from his cauldron. None of ingredients looked like a fig.
Just as panic began to take hold of him he felt something bump into his shoulder.
"Whoops!" Lafayette said as the contents on his cutting board spilled into Alexander's potion.
"Shoot, now I'll have to chop those figs all again." He sighed deeply, as if he'd just seen all his hopes and dreams shatter before him. Then he gathered himself up, quietly mumbled "Stir three times, counter-clockwise," winked at Alexander, and pranced off to the ingredients cupboard. Alexander gaped after him for a second before remembering himself and hastily returning to his work. At the lesson end, his liquid was more red than purple, but at least he had a potion to present.
Bless Lafayette.
x
Alexander was hauled up in a corner of the common room, focusing intensely on the mouse before him. The other boys had already gone to bed, but Alexander had left them under the pretence of having to go to the bathroom. Instead, he'd snuck out to gather the mouse Professor McGonagall had promised him. Now, past midnight, he was still in the common room, frantically trying to turn it into a goblet.
"Vera Verto," he muttered, tapping his wand to the mouse. "Vera Verto!" A few sparks flew out of his wand, having absolutely no effect on the mouse. It squeaked a bit.
"Alex?"
He spun around, seeing John standing on the stairs leading up to the dorms.
"Oh, hi."
The boy blinked drowsily at him. "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"
"Oh—I'm just … studying." He quickly tried to stuff the mouse into his pocket. Not quick enough, though.
"Is that a hamster?" John's face was the epitome of bewilderment, and he walked across the room to Alexander. Before he could react John grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand from his pocket, revealing the mouse. It looked—if a mouse could do that—very done with the whole endeavour.
"Alex, what on Earth are you doing?"
Alexander stared at him in despair for a moment, multiple thoughts racing through his brain. He didn't want John to know that he was an uneducated orphan essentially living on the streets. He didn't want to be shunned and cast out, not now. Not when he might've finally found a way to get his life in order.
But he was caught in John's stare and his grip, a mouse in his hand, and no clue how he'd make it through tomorrow's transfiguration lesson. He couldn't make a potion without help and the moment they moved past theory in charms he'd fail that too. He was, in other words, screwed.
Alex felt his shoulders slump as his knees gave way and he fell down in his armchair, John's hand sliding off his wrist. And then, in a low voice and without looking up, he explained himself to John. Explained that he was stuck in the common room with a mouse because he couldn't cast a simple spell, because he had no education, no magical training, and no way of surviving the term.
John listened, his eyes never leaving Alexander's face. When he stopped speaking he felt a warmth on his hands, and he looked up from his lap to see John grasping them in his own.
"Alexander," he said softly. He looked into Alexander's eyes, the firelight reflecting in John's irises and making them sparkled with a soft green sheen. "It will be alright."
He said it with such conviction, Alexander almost believed him.
Then John rose from his chair, pulling Alexander with him.
"It's a soft 'V,' almost like and 'F,'" he explained. "And the hand moments are sharp taps, like so—" he moved his hand in the air, mimicking casting the spell. "Try it."
Alexander, swallowing down the clump in his throat, grabbed the mouse and raised his wand again.
"Vera verto!" A fine mist sprayed from his wand, but nothing happened.
"You need to move your arm from the elbow." John took his hand, moving it as he explained. His fingers were very soft. "Try it again."
So Alexander tried. And tried. And tried. With John's help he cast the spell again and again, until finally a soft mist shot out from his wand, engulfing the mouse and forming into a simple water goblet.
John jumped up, clapping his hands. "Amazing!"
Alexander looked in shock at the goblet in front of him. "I … did it."
"You did!" John moved towards him, but seemed to catch himself and simply patted him on the shoulder. "Congratulations."
x
"Thank you," Alexander said as they wandered up to their beds again. "You saved my butt."
"No worries," John mumbled. "I'm sure you'd managed without me."
"I really wouldn't have. I'm completely lost."
John stopped to look at him. They stood just outside their door, and the stairs were dark but for a flicker of light coming up from the common room.
"You'll be fine," John said, his voice low and urgent. "You just learned a whole new spell in a few hours. That's amazing. And—and we'll help you. Me and the others. It will be okay, I promise."
Alexander felt his throat close up.
"I—" he choked up. "Thank you," he whispered.
John just smiled, his face a shadow in the dark. "Any time."
x
It wasn't until Alexander was snuggled up in his bed, that he realised that he' never asked John why he'd been down in the common room after midnight. But by then the room was already filled by soft snoring, so Alexander had no choice but to turn over and try to fall asleep. And he did, warm and comfortable, and feeling like he might survive the year after all.
Merde — Shit
Hello! I hope you're having a great day/night, and that you enjoyed this chapter. I'm trying a new thing with the triple x's to indicate a new section of text, since the site won't let me do paragraphs the way I normally would. I'm not sure if I like the look of it though, so if you find it annoying (or if you like it) please let me know so I can change it in future chapters! Anyways, have a good rest of the day and take care!
EDIT: I realized that I can just put a single x on the side instead of three in the middle to get a wider paragraph break (can you tell I'm not in Ravenclaw?) so I'm going with that instead. Sorry for any confusion, my layout keeps changing when I move my documents to the site but I think I have it sorted now.
