So, we—that is my friend Sophy and I, Lin—have created this monster. I'm proud of it already. We have so many things planned for this verse. Or should I say these verses? Also I would like to take this moment to clarify a few things:

a) despite sharing the name, I am (sadly) not Lin-Manuel Miranda. Neither is Sophy. We're also not JKR and own nothing.

b) our cast is neither historically accurate, nor does it follow the musical.

And now, onward with the story—we only hope that you'll enjoy reading it as much as enjoyed writing it, and consider telling us what you thought of it.

a brave new world

It is hard to pinpoint the moment where Alex remembers being Alexander. The memories and thoughts are always there, sort of, whispers of wrongness whenever he hears himself speak with a British accent - he might not have lived in Britain, but his father speaks like this and that is how he learned - an incommensurable sadness whenever his mother hugs him, the betrayal he feels in front of his father, and the fact that he can never quite seem to trust the man as he should…

And then there are the dreams, which always fade before he wakes up - only they do not quite completely do so, as sometimes he catches himself thinking of himself as someone else.

Everything changes when the letter comes - when he meets the others, and something simply slots into its right place in his mind.

Yes, his mind whispers. This is it - this is who I am.

Alex closes his eyes, and Alexander opens them.

(only that's not quite true, is it? Alexander died years - centuries - ago, and now Alex doesn't even have his legacy to carry)

(well, that's fine - he did it once, he can do it again. And this time, he even knows which mistakes to avoid)

The realization hasn't quite settled in when he arrives at the platform and spots a boy around his age. His skin is a pale russet, reddish-brown and he stands uncomfortably next a prim looking white lady.

In that moment, something sparks inside of him and that something connects the pieces of the puzzle in his mind. Alex moves over to the boy before he can really think about it.

"Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr?" He is only half-aware of why he is asking this, but the boy's flinch is undeniable.

"That depends," the boy says slowly. "Who's asking?"

"Who'd you think?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. He isn't quite sure what he is expecting.

(but he does know what he is hoping)

"Alexander?" The boy's voice is barely more than a whisper. He is afraid of the consequences, Alex can feel it.

(it is understandable, really)

Alex barely registers what is happening, but the next thing he notices is that he and Aaron are hugging.

Both of them are whispering nonsensical words and Alex can feel the tears forming in his eyes. He's ready to cry here, in front of everyone, because he finally knows what all the half-remembered dreams mean.

But they are interrupted by Aaron's aunt.

(something tells him Aaron is an orphan again and he feels a sense of dread rising inside of him)

"You two are making a scene!" she admonishes. "And as if that wasn't bad enough you're blocking the way. Get ahold of yourself, Aaron!"

Alex doesn't like the way the woman looks down on the two of them. He has seen many glances like this in his - second - life.

These glances of thinly veiled disgust, based only on the colour of his skin. It was several shades darker than it had been the last time around and, so he notices, is Aaron's.

(a stray thought wanders through his mind. He wonders if God had been nice enough to let the same be true for Jefferson)

Aaron lets go of him within a second, without further thought. Almost as if it is a reflex.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, before changing the topic. "This is my friend," there is a pause, as if he was holding back something, "Alexander -"

"Hampton. Alexander Hampton," Alex jumps in before the awkward silence even begins. He holds his hand out for her to shake.

She doesn't react immediately, but eventually she does take his hand.

"Hampton, you say?" Alex can clearly hear that the interest is merely superficial. All of her opinions of him are already formed. "Can't say I heard that name around before."

"Well, yeah." He awkwardly scratches the back of his head. "I'm not from around here."

"Oh? Where are you from then?" She speaks as if he was a little child, as if he was stupid.

Alex sees the spark of recognition in Aaron's eyes, the raised eyebrow, asking him if the answer is the same.

(and, yes, it is. He is again from Nevis and, again, moved to St. Croix because of a Hurricane)

"The Caribbean." Alex refuses to get any more precise than that. Not in front of this woman at least.

Aaron seems to detect where this conversation would continue and decides that that is not something he needs to hear right now.

"Anyways, we really have to get going. I will see you in the summer," he says to his aunt, before grabbing Alex and dragging him towards the train that is already waiting for them.

They are hindered by Alex's trunk which is so much heavier than it needs to be.

"Haven't you gotten the trunk charmed, Hamilton?" Aaron asks as they heave that thing on the train.

"Please, call me Alex," he corrects. "And what do you mean?"

Aaron knows this look. This is the look Alexander gets when he learns something new. And if this is new than that means... "You're a Muggleborn, aren't you?"

Alex hasn't heard that word before, but he does know what a Muggle is. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

This is really not one of the times when Aaron wants to be the one to tell him. His friend, Alex, whom he shot. "Let's just say that you're going to be treated about the same as you were last time for being a bastard."

"Is that what your aunt - I'm assuming?" Alex waits for Aaron to nod. "Is that what she meant when she asked for my name?" His mind is already running wild with the implications that accompanied Aaron's statement.

"Yes." Aaron doesn't go into any more detail, instead choosing to look for an empty compartment to settle down in. They are fairly early, so they find one in virtually no time. It is located in the middle of the train.

The two of them sit down and Aaron takes out his book. He is happy to see Alexander again, but he is also afraid. And the sheer enthusiasm that is only barely contained in the small statue of Alexander, causing him to fidget in his seat and almost literally jump around, that doesn't really help.

"You never answered my question," Alex speaks up after a minute or two of silence. "What charm were you talking about earlier?"

"A featherweight charm." Aaron's answer is intentionally as concise as possible.

Alex blinks, taken aback. The words of his friend - because, despite everything, that is what they are - are self-explanatory, but at the same time they bring up so many questions. He can't help but wonder, how does magic work?

He shakes his head and clears his thoughts. He is going to learn everything eventually, he doesn't have to wonder about everything now. It makes no sense to ask question about details before he understands the basic concept, after all. His books had been awfully quiet on this subject, so Alex assumed that that was just something that teachers simply mentioned.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Both Alex and Aaron turned towards it.

"Excuse me, can I sit with you?" asks a tall boy with dreadlocks. He doesn't quite enter the compartment, instead choosing to lean against the door. He doesn't provide any reason, either.

The other two boys exchange a short look. The spark of recognition has returned, this is someone they know. Alex can feel it and he is almost certain that Aaron can too.

"Sure," replies Aaron. "I'm Aaron Burts, by the way. And that's Alexander Hampton."

"Who can speak for himself," Alex inserts, glaring at Aaron, before he turns back to the other boy. "And who are you?"

Growing up, Aaron never really had any friend. Of course, he socialized with the other children of his station, as his guardian would say, but they were never friends.

Part of it was that their world was hardly one where children could actually make friends instead of future allies, but mostly it was the terrible guilt that had plagued him, it seemed, since the moment he was born.

Not knowing what the guilt was for-only that it was something terrible (that he deserved it, that and so much more)-only made it worse somehow. It isn't until he meets Alexander again that he realizes how much it weighs on him, and what it could feel like to be free of it, if only for a few moments.

Of course that short moment of happiness is soured by the presence of his aunt, whose glare on his back he can feel. It is terribly unfair, he thinks, to have been given this second chance at life only to have it be so close to his first.

(well, he thinks as he looks into Alexander's bright, living eyes, maybe not everything about this is that unfair)

Even once they part with her, they barely have any time to themselves, to talk about their options-to think about what this (being back) means-before they're interrupted.

Making eye contact with the boy who'd make his aunt shriek in fury at his hair (only, no, because his aunt doesn't shriek, she only sneers very, very disdainfully) sparks something in his mind, so much so that Aaron barely register his words.

It feels familiar already, this jolt of i-know-you-i-remember-you, and Aaron can't help but wonder if this is what he'll always feel like now whenever he meets someone new. Is everyone from here on out simply going to be another weirdly doubled version of people he knew in another life? Or are they the only ones, Alex, this new-yet-old soul, and him?

"I'm Aaron Burts," he says, introducing himself first almost by rote, and then Alexander.

Alexander, who of course cannot let this stand and has to make the point that he can speak for himself. He rolls his eyes so hard they hurt.

"Who are you?" Alexander asks their visitor-who is still standing in the doorway to their compartment.

"Thomas Jerson," the boy introduces himself, eyes guarded, and it takes Aaron half a second longer than Alexander to remember why he would.

"Jefferson!" Alexander spats out like a curse, and where it anybody else Aaron would probably laugh right now with how horrified yet oddly delighted he looks.

The boy who was once Jefferson sighs, sounding deeply put upon. "It's Jerson now, Hamilton. Or Thomas, if you must," he adds, in a tone that clearly states that terrible things will happen if he tries it. "And before you ask, James is here too."

"Where is he?" Alexander asks, looking around Thomas as if the other boy was hiding him.

Thomas rolls his eyes and uncrosses his arms. "Not here, obviously," he says in that tone of voice that says he thinks you're stupid for even asking. Aaron can already see Alexander bristling, and yes, this is probably going to end up in disaster. It's nice to see that some things, at least, haven't changed. "I'm not his keeper, you know," Thomas continues flippantly. "Anyway, can I sit with you or not?"

"Sure," Aaron replies before Alexander can refuse, ignoring the betrayed look he gets from his friend. He can, after all, see that Thomas isn't going anywhere, and maybe if they agree to let him sit with them he'll stop antagonizing Alexander quite so much.

It's not very likely, but stranger things have happened-exhibit A, this weird reincarnation thing they're all experiencing (unless this is heaven, in which case Aaron has some things to say to whoever's in charge, and he's sure Alexander would be more than happy to help compile a list of grievances).

After Thomas puts his things away, they sit in awkward silence for a while-or they do, until Alexander starts stifling laughter, and very badly so too.

"And here it is," Thomas mutters quietly enough that only Aaron, sitting beside him, can hear him.

"So, Thomas," Alexander starts with gleefully, because clearly he still has no mouth-filter nor self-control, "how is it to know you were wrong?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Thomas denies, sneering.

Alexander just stares pointedly at his skin, which is decidedly far darker in tone as it was in the other boy's last life. "Yes," he drawls, "I'm sure you don't."

Thomas' hands tighten into fists. "It was another time," he says defensively.

"Oh my god, Jefferson, I can't believe you! How can you still be defending your actions now?"

"It was another time," Jefferson repeats. "We were different people, mentalities were different, and what's done is done. I am not getting into this debate with you again, Hamilton, so if you would kindly let it go, it'd be much appreciated."

The silence that follows feels charged with electricity, and Aaron is desperate enough not to see this come to a fistfight that he digs through his pockets for anything that might salvage the situation.

"Exploding Snap, anyone?" he asks half-heartedly, putting his book aside. "It's a game," he explains to Alexander who looks non-plussed, "where you pile up the cards and if they explode in your face you lose." That's simplifying the rules a little, but the basics are there, and everything else can be picked up by playing.

"A ruffian's game," Jefferson sneers, but Aaron sees the glint in his eyes that says he's interested, if only because he wants to win.

At the same time, Alexander says, "It sounds brilliant," eyes wide with wonder, and Aaron knows it's on the moment the two start glaring at each other again.

Well, at least this time they're considering strategies to defeat the other instead of plain old murder by strangulation. At this point, Aaron will take any victory he can get.

The game-or rather games, as Alexander seems to grow as addicted to it as Aaron himself is (not that anyone else will ever know that, of course) and Jefferson is unable to resist a rematch-actually go much more peacefully than Aaron would have ever dared to dream.

By the fourth one, they're all actually somewhat getting on. Or well, no one is yelling, or throwing veiled insults about one's character or lack-thereof, so it's definitely a win.

It's also when the door opens one more time, and a boy with slanted eyes sneaks in. The same jolt of remembering washes over Aaron, who barely has the time to blink before the boy talks.

"Well, color me impressed, Thomas, you're all still in one piece. I was expecting at least some blood by now," he continues, and has the audacity to even sound somewhat disappointed.

"We do have some scorched eyebrows," Aaron observes.

"So I see," Madison replies dryly. "Would you, perhaps, have room for one more in this game of yours?" He smiles like he knows something they don't, but they all agree to let him join anyway.

After all, in for a penny, in for a pound, as the saying goes.

(in retrospect, the way none of the cards ever explode in Madison's hands should have been the first clue)

Angelica will forever be grateful for the way that whoever had granted her this second chance at life, had also granted it to her sisters, and had even given them the grace of being sisters in this new life too.

The magic had been a surprise though. A welcome one, but a surprise nevertheless.

The first two years at Hogwarts had been fascinating and filled to the brim with creatures and so much more she had never seen before, but she is glad that she will finally be able to share the experience with Eliza, even if Peggy won't join them for two more years.

(as everyone who had spent a single minute around her in the last months was well aware of)

Still, by now Angelica is well accustomed to the Hogwarts' Express, and so she knows that no matter how early or how late you arrive, there will always be a free compartment for you. It is just a matter of finding it.

This also means that the Skylar family knows not to hurry too much, though they still get there before the last minute rush, leaving them enough time to give proper goodbyes and promises of writing.

Angelica knows something is different-that this year will be different-from the moment she steps onto the platform. There is something undeniably different in the air, and for all that she can't quite put a finger on what it is, it is there, and it smells like change.

As soon as Eliza sees the train, she has to stop herself from squealing. She tries to hide it, but her older sister is well aware of it and can only smile.

(a few years earlier, she had been the same. And they all know that Peggy will not even try to hold herself back when her turn comes)

In the previous two years, Angelica had always sat near the back of the train, but today she lets her sister choose and Eliza feels compelled to go to the middle of the train for a reason she can't explain. The sisters had long since learned to trust their intuition, and so they head for the centermost wagon without much thought.

Eliza is the one who sees them first: two boys, talking in the rather stiff and awkward way of friends who haven't seen each other for a while and are learning to rediscover who they are.

They are standing two feets away from a closed compartment door, clearly debating on whether or not to go inside. It is not that, however, that shocks Eliza the most.

No, what does is the sudden rush of something, like she's suddenly stepped through a waterfall, that washes over her as she crosses eyes with the shorter of the two boys. She knows them, she thinks, in the same way that she knows Angelica and Peggy are her sisters twice over.

Beside her, Angelica gasps, and Eliza knows her sister felt it too.

She feels at once overwhelmed and disappointed. She-like her two sisters-thought that they were alone in this, but that thought was arrogant. They should have known better, should have listened to their instincts about this too.

(but how could they have, when doing so would mean considering being haunted by ghosts of another life-or well, more ghosts?)

But really, if they had to meet anyone else who shared in this weird reincarnation they seemed to be experiencing, why did it have to be these? Why couldn't it be…

(she isn't sure who her heart yearns for more: her husband or their children)

But she has hope now, hope greater than she'd felt in years-who could blame them for losing it after years without any sign but Angelica seeing a boy who had once been George Washington around Hogwarts?

It is the taller boy who speaks first. His voice is already deep, at least for their age. "Do my eyes deceive me or are the Schuyler sisters standing in front of me?" It is said with a smile.

Angelica knows him. It's one of Alexander's friends, Hercules. Which would make the other one John. Alexander would have jumped at Eliza a few moments ago and Lafayette would have long since started greeting them in rapid French.

"It's spelled differently this time around, but indeed," Angelica confirms.

"Why are you standing here?" Eliza asked. She was eyeing John with a gaze Angelica wasn't sure how to describe. "Why not enter the compartment?" If she could feel the wave of familiarity through the closed door and blinds, then surely so could they.

"Because I'm pretty sure that I heard the name 'Thomas', quickly followed by 'Hampton', and Hercules is convinced that there is a bloodbath happening in there," John replies, neither openly agreeing nor disagreeing with Hercules' statement.

Angelica's eyes widen even as her heart skips a beat. "Oh, yes. I can see how that would be worrying. But still, wouldn't you want to put a stop to it if it were?"

"But I like living!" Hercules yelps.

"Don't be daft," Eliza replies before Angelica can. "They wouldn't kill you-maybe maim you a little, but you'd live."

"Unless Aaron is also in there," John points out.

"How do you even know about that? You were already dead!"

"History books are a thing," the Nordic boy deadpans. "Also, ouch, right in the feels, Morgan."

Suddenly the door opens and an Indian boy sticks his head out. "You do know we can hear you, right?"

He looks supremely unimpressed by them, and at first all Angelica can see is a mop of dark hair struggling as whoever that hair belongs to tries to get out of the headlock a dark-skinned boy has him in.

An asian boy sits across from them, and when the dark-skinned one says, "A little help, James, if you please?" he only smirks and replies, "Hey, this is your mess, don't drag me into it."

Blinking somewhat incredulously, she turns her focus back on the boy who opened the door, letting the odd spark of remembrance wash over her. "Aaron, I presume?" she asks with a deceptively mild tone.

"Yes," he replies with a small voice. "If you want to slap me-or worse-could you please come in first? I don't want everyone to see."

"Well, maybe I do," she retorts.

Oddly enough, it is Eliza who stops her, resting a restraining hand on her arm. "Give him a second chance," she argues. "After all, isn't this what this is for?" She gestures wildly at this, encompassing their surroundings in a gesture that Angelica knows means this life they're (re)living and not just this meeting.

"Is it?" Hercules mutters under his breath. "Because I'm actually fine with my last life."

"I think you might be the only one without regrets," John points out.

"This is all nice and well, but what do you say about getting inside the compartment?" Madison drawls, voice just loud enough to be heard by everyone.

"Well, it might be a bit crowded," John replies.

"Are you sure it'll fit everyone?" Eliza asks at the same time. They share an amused look.

They don't notice that the scuffle happening between Jefferson (or whatever his name was now) and the dark-haired boy has stopped until said boy looks up, a brilliant smile lighting up his face.

"John!" he exclaims, and then half a beat later, as his eyes rest on Eliza, "Eliza!" He looks like he wants to hug them and is trying to decide where to go first, and that determined look in his eyes is so familiar that it still Eliza's breath away.

He's moving before Eliza's had a chance to react, and John barely gets the time to mutter a half-panicked "Alex, no" before Alexander is coming toward them, arms open.

Which is of course, when he faceplants, tripping over his own feet.

"Ow," he says from the ground, rubbing at his head. "That hurt."

Jefferson starts laughing so hard that Angelica almost - almost - worries for his health.

Eliza, of course, is already moving towards her husband and is helping him up, John right at her heels, though he is smirking.

"You know, I seem to remember you being steadier on your feet, my friend," he teases.

For a second, Alexander looks like he's been slapped, but his expression smoothes out as he accepts their hands to help him get up.

But then the train starts moving and Alex falls back over, dragging Eliza and John down with him. It takes a while for the trio to untangle, and there is a lot of blushing involved on everyone's part.

But by the time they're standing up again, everyone else has found some place to sit, leaving barely enough space for two-let alone three."I don't think we have enough room for everyone," Eliza points out, blinking slowly in realization.

Madison speaks up. "We can move the trunks somewhere else. There's room in the compartment Thomas and I were planning on using, and it isn't far from here. It won't take much to get them there-we can even leave the two that are already there in place, and place everyone else's in that compartment."

"That still doesn't solve the sitting problem though," Hercules says.

"I can help with that," Thomas replies gleefully. Before anyone else can guess what his intentions are, he has already stood up, crossed the compartment, and picked Alexander up.

"Put me down!" Alex hisses menacingly, but considering the fact that Thomas is more than a head taller than him and doesn't look like a strong breeze might knock him over, that isn't as impressive as it could have been.

"But of course," Thomas answers, his smile saccharine sweet. And he promptly sets Alexander down-only it isn't on any seat or the floor. No, instead he sort of half rolls half pushes the shorted boy on the free net-like space meant for getting the trunks out of the way. "There," he says, ignoring Alexander's indignant spluttering, as he sits back down next to Madison, "now there's room for everyone."

For a second or two there is silence, as everyone processes what just happened.

"Get him down from there," Aaron fumes.

Alex surprises all of them even more when he protests. "You don't have to, actually. It's quite comfy up here."

Another moment of incredulous silence settles over the group, only ruptured by Alex's voice. "No, really, I mean it. You should try it out."

Thomas looks like he's swallowed something extremely bitter and is about to climb up there himself just to prove Alex wrong.

"How about we all settle down," Eliza tries to take some tension from the air. "I mean, I would never have guessed that we would all find ourselves together again."

"I agree," says Madison. "I thought I was the only one when not one of my siblings turned out to be from last time. It's rather perplexing, to tell the truth."

"I kind of miss Lafayette," Hercules sighs.

"I am terrified of the fact that Washington isn't here to keep those two from killing each other," says Aaron, looking between Thomas and Alex who are back at glaring at each other.

Angelica hums secretly, sharing a knowing look with her sister.

John picks up on that almost immediately. "What aren't you telling us?" he asks curiously.

"Well," Angelica draws the word out as much as she can, "I might have met George in Hogwarts before."

The boys straighten as one, which looks kind of funny in Alex's case, as he is lying down. Everyone focuses on a different part of her statement.

"What do you mean, might have?", and "Wait, George Washington is at Hogwarts already?", as well as, "But why isn't he here now?", and "You call him George?"

"Well, I expect he'd be in the prefect compartment, since he is, you know, a prefect," she states dryly.

Aaron is the first one to speak. "You know, somehow I'm not even surprised."

"And you shouldn't be," Alexander replies, his tone already halfway to offended. "Really, what else would he be?"

The next thing that happens is something no one would ever have suspected.

Thomas sighs. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with Hampton."

"Thomas, are you feeling well?" Madison asks, genuine concern evident on his face. "Do you need to lie down?"

"You're exaggerating," says John, the only one here who hadn't lived to see these two in action.

Angelica shakes her head. "Not really, no. I don't recall them ever agreeing on anything."

"I do," Alex pipes up and the compartment looks at him in wonder. "On three accounts, actually."

"On what topics?" Thomas questions flatly, raising an eyebrow.

Alex holds up three fingers. "Number one," he takes one down, "America's independence."

"Okay, but that one's a given in this company," Aaron points out.

"Number two: King George was a dick."

"...I'll give you that one," Thomas says, looking extremely put-upon.

Alex grins in victory as he takes down the last finger. "Number three: Lafayette was awesome."

"I said he wasn't entirely terrible," Thomas tries to protest sourly, "not that he was awesome."

"I thought you called him a friend?"

"Who said that I needed to find all my friends awesome? And kind of word is that anyway?"

"Oh my god, Jefferson, don't tell me you're this stuck up in this life too!" Alex looks and sounds so horrified that half the compartment dissolves into more or less evident laughter as Thomas scowls.

"To be fair," Aaron injects tentatively, "I haven't really heard that word either."

If possible, Alex only looks more horrified. "You too, Aaron? What kind of sheltered world is this?"

"I hate to disappoint you, I really do," says John, "but you're first person who used this word in my presence."

"It's a muggleborn thing," Angelica explains with a dry smile. "They use new words sometimes."

"Are you telling me none of you know what happened in the meantime?" Alex doesn't need to elaborate the meaning behind his sentence.

Most of them have the decency to look ashamed. "Getting information from the muggle world is rather difficult," John admits.

"So you don't know about the American Civil War?" he asks incredulously. "Women's Suffragette? The World Wars? JFK's assassination? The Cold War? The Civil Rights Movement? The space race? Anything?" He sounds more and more desperate with each sentence.

"I do," Hercules answers. "Well, some of it at least-I wasn't always the most attentive student in history class," he adds with a sheepish shrug. "Plus, I didn't research in my free time and most of that gets tackled in secondary school."

"And don't forget that we didn't really have opportunity or reason to learn about these. Most wizards never really interact with their muggle counterparts," Eliza adds.

"That doesn't stop you from dying if someone fires an atomic bomb!" Alex is almost screaming at this point.

Aaron blinks. "A what?"

"Actually, it probably could," Angelica interjects thoughtfully. "I mean, if we saw it coming… There are wards that could be used, potions to treat the effects… I don't think it was developed much in Britain, but some of the magazines I've found in the Library suggested other countries worked on it more…"

"That doesn't explain what it is," Aaron points out.

"Hogwarts in Scotland, right? If one of those bombs were to hit London we might feel the effects, depending on many different things." Alex pauses to let revelation sink in properly. "And I don't think either Hiroshima or Nagasaki have recovered and it's been almost half a century." Alex looks at James, desperate for him to recognize the names.

"That is true," he nods sadly. "But Japan's magical world isn't exactly big, or spread out… Safety measures have been put in place since then though, but I'm not entirely sure what they are."

"Why are we talking about Japanese towns again?" John asks. "You lost me."

Alex looks uncharacteristically grave. "It has to do with World War Two," he begins somewhat tentatively.

"Wizards did fight in those wars, you know," Angelica points out.

Still, there is a look of confusion of Thomas' face and John doesn't look all that knowing either.

"Really? How? What did they do-though I guess it would lend some credence to some of the more… unorthodox stories out there," Alex muses aloud. "I wonder if-"

"Focus, Alexander, please," Aaron intervenes, rubbing at his temples.

"Ah, right," Alex says sheepishly. "So I'm assuming that all of you know at least some of the background, how the war started and how it came to that point that people were feeling the need for those weapons and so on. Not-so Great Britain and the United States had agreed on the policy of 'Germany First' as they perceived them to be a bigger threat than Japan. Which, given the fact that Germany was actively practising genocide and-"

"Long story short," Angelica interrupts when Alex's rant threatens to go on and on without getting the crux of the matter, "America entered the war because of Japan's attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, and Japan surrendered because America dropped an atomic bomb on the city of Hiroshima and a few days later on Nagasaki.

"About one hundred thousand people died, most in a matter of seconds, and many others suffered a number of negative effects. In fact, even children born today do."

For a few moments there is silence, as the purebloods - bar James and Angelica - wrap their minds around this fact. No one seems to be quite sure what to say, but several of them look horrified.

"Let's change the topic," Eliza proposes.

"Please," James' voice cracks as he agrees.

"What do you think your House will be?" asks Hercules.

"Slytherin," Jefferson and Alex reply before a beat has passed. Then they once again begin glaring at each other.

"God, please, no," prays Angelica.

"If that happens, there will be a murder within the first month," Aaron predicts.

James eyes the two warily before says, "I think you're being generous there."

John nods. "Two weeks, tops."

Hercules looks at him incredulously. "Weren't you just saying that we had to be exaggerating their enmity?"

"I hadn't seen them glaring then," he replies, shrugging a little. "Or really talk to each other."

"Well, in the event that Hogwarts keeps standing, I'm aiming for Ravenclaw," James says, choosing to ignore the others. God knew that if they kept talking about Thomas and Hamilton this way, the two would start going up at it again.

"Good choice," Angelica replies, smiling at him. "Morgana knows this school has enough hot-headed Gryffindors and Slytherins anyway."

Eliza elbows her to the side with a pout. "Excuse you, but not all Gryffindors are hot-headed, sis'!"

Angelica rolls her eyes fondly. "Yes, of course you would never count as one of those Gryffindors, would you?"

"Exactly," Eliza smiles before she turns to the boys who haven't answered yet. "What about you guys?"

"I don't really know," Aaron admits, "We don't even know how we get Sorted-is there really a point in saying which House we want when we have no way of being sure we'll get it?"

"Doesn't surprise me that he fails to express an opinion," Alex mutters from above.

Aaron throws the book he had put aside at him. "Shut up.

"I don't know," Hercules comments absently. "That way he at least won't be disappointed if he gets another house. That's what I'm doing, at least."

Aaron turns to him. "Thank you."

"And you, John," prompts Eliza. "What House do you want to be in?"

"Most of my family's been in Slytherin or Ravenclaw," John shrugs with a wince. "So that's kind of where I'm expected to go too…"

"No offense, John, but I don't see it happening," Alexander comments from above. "You're clearly a Gryffindor."

George bites back a sigh again. Honestly, he feels like he should have known that being a Prefect would mean going to these boring meetings, but for some reason, he had thought they wouldn't be so bad.

(perhaps it was due to the fact that he hadn't truly remembered how much he hated those things until his path had crossed with the oldest Skyler sister)

And now, as Head Boy, he can't even skip any of them, as he is the one who was supposed to organize most of them.

He sighs as the first meeting of the year finally comes to an end, and stands up to go and patrol on the train.

(most likely he will patrol until he finds Angelica: that was what happened the last two years - the only years he had done this - at least)

The first few compartments he looks into are just perfectly ordinary - a few third years gushing over some boy called Diggory, a couple of sixth years talking about their OWL results and NEWT subjects, and some students from his year comparing their plans for the future.

(which he should most likely think about as well, but previous experience suggested that something would come up either way)

When George reaches the middle of the train, he feels something that instantly replaces his boredom. It is the same something he had felt around Angelica the first few times. The feeling of recognition had diminished fairly quickly and this is too much to stem from Eliza alone.

Which meant that at least one other person - most likely more - of those he had known before was returning to Hogwarts.

(and if his mind flew to Hamilton and Lafayette, the boys who were practically his sons, well, then it was understandable. Only finding Martha or her children would give him as much joy)

Without hesitation, George opens the door.

He sees Angelica and Eliza, yes, but also two boys who can only be Laurens and Mulligan next to them. Because the three across of them are clearly Madison, Jefferson, and Burr while Hamilton is lying in the net above them for some reason.

(of course all of their last names will have changed, just like his own did. Though at least this way he is still George)

Not one of them has noticed him so far, they are all too involves in their discussion about… what exactly? It's probably better for his continued sanity - or whatever these guys had left him with last time around - not to ask.

He decides to call their attention towards him. At least this way it will be mostly done with when they actually reach the castle.

George moves his hair - it is brown and curly this time around - aside with his - compared to last time - noticeably darker hand.

(he might not be quite as dark as Jefferson or Mulligan were, but it was enough that he would have been a slave and not a slaver the last time around)

For a moment or two he's not sure what to say, but eventually he decides on. "And here I thought I could concentrate on my NEWTs this year."

Everyone's head snaps towards him - even the one of Angelica who had already found him years before - and he is greeted by a mixture of voices calling out his name.

He would sit down with them and talk, but they have already used all available space - literally, considering Hamilton's placement - and George is going to have nightmares about what they will do with an undetectable extension charm.

Instead, he excuses himself fairly quickly and heads back to the prefect compartment.

As he drops on one of the seats he comments to the Gryffindor fifth year prefect who is the only other person in the room, "You are so lucky I'm Head Boy this year. There is no one else who will be able to control them."