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Chapter Text

• Theo manages to make contact with the French resistance, and it’s even worse than she could have imagined. They’re down to a handful of fighters, battle weary and sure they’re going to loose, and she’s expecting to be told that Laf’s dead at any moment. So when she eventually finds him with a curse wound to the leg but somehow alive, it’s a shock. The two get eachother up to date, and Laf cries when she tells him that John’s alive but is slowly turning into the mad king. He only grimaces when Theo asks if he knows where to find Washington, though. “He’s here,” Laf says slowly, “But I do not know how much help he’s going to be.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any point in asking where I am?” The King asked, and Eliza couldn’t help but shudder. Everything about this was wrong, and she wasn’t sure what it was exactly that made her want to run for the door. The fact that he could wear John’s face and yet look nothing like her friend, the almost conversational tone, the knowledge of what the man sitting in front of them had done… Eliza stayed where she was.

Next to her, Alex had paled, and she reached for his hand before answering for both of them. “None.”

“No matter.” He glanced around the room. “I can wait. There are only so many places where a baby Schuyler and a baby Hamilton could be hiding, and my men will catch up with you soon enough.”

“You know who we are?” Alex’s voice was that little bit higher than usual.

“Of course. You look so very like your father. So very like your brother, too. Handsome boy, wasn’t he? Such a pity that dear James-”

“You don’t talk about him.”

The King made a gesture that, if not tied to a chair, could have been a mockery of a bow. “But of course. You have all the power here, after all. What shall we talk about instead? How about a catch up, Elizabeth? You have grown up so much since we last spoke.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“No?” He cocked his head. “I’m disappointed. We were so close. Almost of the same mind, one could say.”

“That’s enough.”

“Am I still in there, do you think?” He leaned forward, eyes that held only darkness in place of John’s light boring into Eliza’s. “Scratching away at the back of your mind? Whispering in your ear in a voice you’ve convinced yourself is your own?”

“I said enough!”

“You and I are one and the same, Elizabeth Schuyler. You tied poor Johnny to a chair because you thought he was the monster, what what if it was really just you?”

Eliza’s fingers curled around her wand, but the blast of red light didn’t come from her. Alex’s outstretched arm was trembling, and it was only when Eliza placed a hand over his that he lowered his wand. The stunning spell had hit the King square in the chest with enough force to tip the chair over backwards.

“What the hell was that?”

‘He needed to shut up.” Alex said. “This whole plan was a mistake. We should just keep him unconscious until John comes back, and-”

The sound of high pitched laugher cut him off. “Unconscious? Please.” The King spoke between gasps of breath and giggles. “You’re going to have to do something far worse than stunning me if you want to keep me quiet.”

“Alex, get out.” Eliza said.

“What?”

“I think Elizabeth wants some alone time with me,” The King said, still on the floor, and Eliza ignored him.

“Take ten. Clear your head. You’ve just shown him that he can get under your skin in less than two minutes and that’s the last thing we need.”

“But-”

“I’ll be fine. And I’ll yell if anything changes.” A pause. “Please?”

Alex watched her for a long moment before leaving without a word, and Eliza did her best not to hate herself for it. Because however much it was in Alex’s best interests not to be in this room right now, she new exactly how to play him after seven years, and that there was very little she couldn’t ask of him. The little girl that Alex met on a broomstick was long gone, and the man to blame was currently tied to a chair on the floor.

She waited until the telltale clang of Alex locking the door behind him before hauling the King upright again.

“How very kind,” he said, far too close to her ear for comfort, and it was all Eliza could do not to follow Alex out of the room. Instead, she crossed to another chair sitting in one corner and sat down, making an obvious show of laying her wand across her knee.

The Mad King eyed it knowingly. “Are you going to kill me, Elizabeth Schuyler?”

“I don’t know.” It was the truth after all.

“Because now would be the best time to do it. Who knows when dear Alexander will leave the two of us alone again, and I very much doubt you have it in you to murder your when it’s Johnny working the controls.” He smiled. “You can close your eyes if you want. I won’t tell anyone. That way you won’t have to look John Laurens in the eye as you kill him.”

“I’m not looking at John Laurens. You may be wearing his face, but there’s not an inch of him in you.”

“And yet you’d kill him all the same.” Eliza forces herself to keep looking at him, but something of the guilt eating away at her insides for even considering it must show on her face. “Oh, don’t misunderstand me, Elizabeth. I would never judge you. It’s the smart thing to do. Some may even say the right thing. One flick of your wand and no one else has to die for this war. You’d be a hero.”

“I’d be a murderer,” she countered.

“Semantics. You don’t really believe that you can keep your hands clean in a fight like this. Your father is a murderer, and your teachers, and your friends off fighting on the front line. The walls are going to come crashing down soon, and everyone still standing when the dust clears will have to kill to be there. Why not do it sooner rather than later?”

Eliza swallowed, and for one moment she imagined it. Raising her wand and taking the chance to end it all here and now. It may not work, but she could try. She imagined John’s body unmoving, head bowed and hazel eyes unseeing. The look of horror on Alex’s face. Explaining to her sisters what she had to do to keep them safe. She thought of the way that John had asked them to kill him, and had looked so confused at the suggestion that he shouldn’t lay his life on the line for the greater good.

And then she looked at the King, at the smile that accompanied five years of nightmarish laugher in her head.

“Because it’s what you would do.”

“Come now, enough with playing nobel. What’s one life against so many?”

“Everything.”

“You’ll change your mind. I know about you Elizabeth, how you’ve spent the year hiding away. When you see the toll this war has taken, you’ll think differently.”

You’re wrong, Eliza wanted to say except she didn't trust her voice to remain steady. Instead she asked “Why are you doing this?”

“I’ve no better way to pass the time.”

“No, really.”

The King sighed and looked up at her, and Eliza didn't’t think she’d ever been more afraid. Because the look he gave her, eyes impossibly soft and face tinged with a hint of longing, it was almost human. For a second, she saw a flash of John in the face of the madman. “I spent a year inside your mind. You were the first person to speak to me in twelve years. And you were… kind.”

“You tried to kill me,” she accused, more taken aback than anything.

“Necessity. I knew you would never side with me if I had asked. But I would have regretted it, a world without you in it. That’s not the world I want to build.”

Eliza shuddered. “I want nothing to do with your world. What the hell do you think we’re fighting against?”

“You don’t know yourself. I’ll give your little revolution this, you’ve fought gallantly. But you’re mistaken. The final battle of this war won’t be in Paris, or London, on some great field. It will be in your head. The day that Elizabeth Schuyler realises that we’re on the same side is the day that this foolish fight will finally be over.”

• Laf leads Theo through the makeshift hospital they’ve got set up, and she almost doesn’t recognise Washington at first. He’s thin and hurt bad, never really recovered from his injuries and made worse by continuing to fight. He does smile when he sees Theo though - one more student he hasn’t failed yet. When she explains John’s problem and asks for his help, though, he shakes his head. “I’m so sorry, Miss Prevost, but there’s nothing to be done. We’re finished.”

• Once Theo is gone, Laf rounds on him. He’s never had an argument with his pseudo-father before, but rage and fear comes bubbling out all at once. He tells Washington that he’s not allowed to give up now, that there are too many people counting on him and that he needs him, and that he’s going to keep fighting for that last bit of good in the world until it kills him, no matter what Washington does.

• When Alex comes back down to the cellar, the King stops talking, but Eliza can’t stop thinking about what he said, and wondering how much of the monster was left behind in her head in second year. It takes two days for John to fight his way back into control of his body, and they are among the worst of Alex and Eliza’s lives. When John weakly asks for some water, in a voice that’s so painfully him, Alex can’t help but cradle his face and kiss him. It’s only their second kiss, but the years melt away like they never happened, and neither boy sees Eliza’s expression, horrified at what she so nearly destroyed.

• Laf is sitting with Theo and Adrienne when the hospital comes alive with whispers. They turn around to see Washington walking towards them, limping and leaning heavily on a cane but up for the first time in a week and with a fire that Laf had almost forgotten dancing behind his eyes. “Shall we make a plan?” he asks.

• It’s a tight squeeze, the four of them in Ned’s small flat, especially as no one wants to step foot in the basement right now. Ned doesn’t ask about what happened down there, just as he doesn’t ask about the strange, stretched out dynamic between his three guests, and Alex has no idea what he ever did to deserve such a good friend. With nothing they can do for the war except hide, they pass the time by swapping embarrassing stories about Alex and explaining various components of their worlds. Eliza’s three years of muggle studies means that she has a much firmer grasp than John. but it still takes almost a whole meal to explain reality tv to her, which of course must be followed by a marathon of all the worst examples possible. Sandwiched between Ned and John on a couch designed for less than four people, while Jeremy Kyle shouts from the screen, Alex can almost let himself forget the war and just be happy.

• There’s an ambush on the resistance group Angelica and Peggy are staying with, and their first taste of war is simultaneously everything and nothing like training. There’s no preparing for the fear pumping through your veins, the stench of charred flesh from fighters standing too close to the explosion that breaks the door down, but when Angelica points her wand, death eaters go down the same way that training dummies do. When it’s all over, she has no idea if she’s killed anyone or not, but thinks that it really should be harder than it is.

• Washington explains that they’re dealing with a very dark branch of soul magic, and he can think of no use of light magic to counter it. “What about dark magic?” Adrienne asks, something she wouldn’t have even considered voicing a year ago, before she watched her city fall and friends die. Washington curses, not daring to believe that a solution could possibly be so simple. Because there’s one artifact of the Mad King’s that’s been in his position for years now, one that works by seeking the deepest desires of a person’s soul. And it’s been sitting at Hogwarts this whole time. “Are you still using those Muggle communication devices?” Laf asks Theo. “Then send out a mass text. We’re going back to school.”

• They’ve been at Ned’s almost a week, and the confinement is starting to get to everyone. Eliza keeps shooting Alex meaningful looks and hissing “Talk to him,”, but it's difficult to have a private conversation with four people living in a one person flat. Alex really shouldn’t be surprised, then when Eliza volunteers to come with Ned to restock the pub at a nearby wearhouse. Strictly speaking, none of them should be showing their faces outside, but it’s highly doubtful that the death eaters are monitoring something so muggle.

“Tea?” Alex asked John for the third time in an hour, desperate to do something with the nervous energy coiled around his gut.

“I’m fine, honestly.”

“Or something else? I could make lunch, or do you want some water, or-”

“Alex, leave it.” John smiled ruefully, and tapped the sofa cushion next to him. “Just come and sit, would you?”

Alex did just that and John curled up next to him, tucking his head into Alex’s chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. Could he hear Alex’ heart racing? It had been a little under a month since the Burr Mannon, and Alex was still floored at the slightest proximity to John. Hell, he still couldn’t quite believe that John was here at all, but he was fast realising that he had no idea where they went from here. They hadn’t kissed again, hadn’t done more than sit a bit closer than necessary to one another and squeeze each others hands for reassurance as much as for anything else. And it was because of more than just the crowded house.

Alex had spent two and a half miserable years loving the memory of John, and it would be unfair to hold him to that now he was here, living and breathing and curled up next to him.

God, they needed to talk. Eliza, as always, was right.

“Hey, John?”

John didn’t respond, and for a moment Alex wondered if he’d fallen asleep. John had been doing a lot of that lately. It clearly took a lot of energy to keep the King out of his head, and Alex could only imagine what horrors stalked his dreams. After a long pause, though, John said “Hmm?”

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”

Thee must have been something in his voice, because John sat up to look him in the eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Maybe. I need to… What’s happening here? With us, I mean? I know we’re in the middle of a war, but you and me? This matters, and I’ve got to know.”

“What do you want to be happening?”

There was no point in dodging the question. “I want to be with you, in whatever way we can make it work. I want to kiss every one of your stupid freckles. I want to hold you and never have to let you go again because it damn near killed me the last time and I’m not doing it again.”

“Alex.” John’s voice was gentle. “The chances that we both make it out of this-”

Alex gripped his hand so tight that it probably hurt, but John didn’t make any noise of protest. “I don’t care. I-” He swallowed, summoned every ounce of courage he could muster. “I love you, John. So much it hurts, and I have for years now, and I promise there are no expectations on you if that’s not how you feel, but I’m not going to lie to you about it.”

“Not how I…? Merlin, you’re an idiot.” John shook his head fondly, and Alex felt like he should protest, except John’s free hand was fidgeting with the hem of Alex’s t-shirt and he’d momentarily forgotten how to speak. “Of course I love you. I just don’t want you to have to lose me again. I could die tomorrow”

If you die tomorrow, I won’t be far behind. Alex caught  the words on his tongue, because that was sure as hell not what John needed to hear right now. Instead, he said “We both could. But that still gives us the whole of today. As many todays as we have left.”

John swallowed. His fingers tightened around the fabric of Alex’s shirt and his eyes darted quickly down to Alex’s lips and back.

“Hey, John?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't panic, but I’m going to kiss you now.”

John barely had time to nod before Alex leant forward and pressed their lips together. John relaxed against him, eyes fluttering shut, and Alex wrapped a hand around his back, pulling him closer. Pulling John right onto his lap, really, and it didn’t even occur to Alex that he should be embarrassed or awkward about this, not with John’s tongue sliding over his own and their hearts beating out in frantic tandem.

John’s hand slipped under Alex’s t-shirt and for a moment he paused, eyes meeting Alex’s in a wordless question. Alex didn’t trust himself to speak right now, instead opting for kissing him again in the hopes that his movements could say what his words couldn’t. It proved to be a very effective method of communication; John slid his hand slowly over Alex’s stomach, exploring. When he reached a nipple, Alex couldn’t help but gasp, arching into the touch and letting his head fall back from the shere fucking overwhelmingness of it all. Because this was John , John’s free hand tangled in his hair, John’s mouth making the most of his bared neck to trail kisses down it, John shifting his weight above Alex, and dear fucking God, that was definitely John as well.

The Mad King would have to get in line. John Laurens was going to be the absolute death of him.

“Hey.” John had paused his exploration, but his voice right in Alex’s ear and breathless was enough to make him shiver. “You with me? If you need to, we can stop, and-”

“Don’t you dare. I need… anything, you, please-”

John smiled, and Alex didn’t think that he’d ever seen anything more beautiful in his life. He withdrew his hands from under Alex’s shirt, and Alex let out a noise of protest that most definitely wasn’t a whine, before John rested them on his hips instead. “I think we can do something about that.”

“Do you think your friend will be pissed?” John asked, much, much later.

“We are never telling Ned about this. Ever. I can’t afford to buy him a new sofa.”

• They’re interrupted by the sound of a text alert, and Alex belatedly realises that he’d never gotten around to telling John about the Revolution in Hogwarts, let alone explained to him how a mass text works as he dives for his burner phone. It’s Theo, and Washington might have a way to seperate John and the King long enough to kill him, but they’re going to need to get back into the castle. Eliza and Ned get back ten minutes later, and Eliza already knows.

• Ned tries to persuade them to stay, but he already knows it’s impossible. If Alex couldn’t be dissuaded in the summer, he’s sure as hell not about to give up now. They hug, and then the three of them disappear with a crack, blinking a moment later in the sunlight of a hilltop overlooking Hogwarts. Alex has missed it so much it hurts, and John? Well, he never thought he’d see this place again, and if he hurriedly wipes his eyes on his sleeve, no one comments. “How the hell are we supposed to get in there?” Alex asks. “It’s… well, it’s  literally a castle.” Eliza just shakes her head. “You weren’t listening to a word Angelica said, were you? We already have a way in.”

• The Revolution’s tunnel comes out by the lake, and Alex realises too late that they’re going to have to go past John’s grave to get there. He tries to usher John away from it, but he pulls away and crosses to the simple grey stone that bears his name. Somehow it’s not any easier knowing that it’s empty. No one says anything, but Eliza stands on one side and squeezes John’s hand, and Alex stands on his other and rests his head on his shoulder, and the world seems a little lighter. Until the first curse explodes over their heads.

• It’s two of Adams’ lackeys, and the three of them manage to be taken completely by surprise. If not for Angelica and Peggy arriving at exactly that moment and stunning them, they would have been screwed. “Honestly,” Peggy says, sweeping a braid very much like Eliza’s from her face. “Why did we ever trust you three with the fate of the wizarding world?” Angelica, meanwhile, is watching the castle. “Someone will have noticed that,” she says. “Get in, now.”

• The tunnel is long and winding, and as in Harry Potter leads straight to the Room of Requirement, which has become something of a camp/hospital for the Revolution. Rows of hammocks and death eater dummies stretch out before them, including one area which looks to be a fully kitted out muggle gym, and Alex is so damned thankful for the magic keeping his friends safe and fighting. It’s difficult to say who causes the most uproar when they climb through the portrait hole; Angelica, their leader who many were starting to suspect had abandoned them; Alex and Eliza, the news of who’s capture and escape has done a lot to keep the spark alive; Or John, half the reason for this whole Goddam war, and who should definitely be dead.

Hercules jerked out of his hammock at the first hint of commotion, wand already in his hand. The movement jolted his still-healing ribs, but he barely registered the pain. Still half asleep, all that was flying through his brain was enemy? and discovered? and Hugh? He looked around wildly. There was a mass of bodies crowding around the portrait hole, and by some miracle no one seemed to be hurt. Or even fighting, for that matter. What the hell was going on? He crossed the room at half a hobble, half a jog in the hope that someone would report to him, goddamit, only to stop short at the sight of a familiar set of braids flashing through the crowd.

“Pegs?” he gasped.

There was no way she could have heard him, what with all the commotion, but he couldn’t quite believe that it was a miracle she chose that moment to turn around. Peggy caught his gaze, and Herc suddenly couldn’t get to her fast enough. Maybe people moved aside as he pushed through them, maybe they didn’t; Herc neither knew nor cared about anything other than the grin on Peggy’s face as he reached her, and the effort not to topple over backwards as she launched herself at him.

“Hey, go easy on me would you?”

She withdrew at once. “Merlin, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“But your face-” Peggy brushed the skin on the right side of his face and Herc drew her hand away, pressing it to his lips instead. He knew it wasn’t a pretty sight, that he’d carry the marks of Adams’ torture for the rest of his life. He also knew that he didn’t much care. “What did they do to you?”

“Their worst.”

It was a ridiculous line, but it put the smile back on Peggy’s face, and then Herc really had no choice at all but to kiss her. God how he’d missed her, and even the chorus of wolf-whistles that surrounded them wasn’t enough to make him do more than raise a finger in their general direction.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered into her lips, and Peggy pulled away with a funny sort of smile.

“I’d save my disbelief if I were you.” She said. “We really need you to stay calm and carry on with your fearless leader routine for the sake of all the kids, but there’s someone else here you need to see.”

“What? Who?”

Peggy said nothing, just jerked her head in the direction she’d been standing. Herc followed her gesture, confused. There was still a heavy throng of people milling around the portrait hole, but after a moment he spotted Eliza, who was watching the proceedings with a grin.

“What the hell is your sister-?” Herc began, but the rest of the sentence got stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth. Because the crowd had shifted enough to see that Eliza was not alone. Standing next to her was Alex, and on her other side…

That was it. Herc had finally snapped with the stress of being responsible for dozens of kids playing soldier. Either that or Adams had actually killed him, and everything since had been some bizarre version of the afterlife. Because there was no other explanation for the fact that John Laurens was standing there, thin and pale but very much not dead.

Herc took a step towards them, only for someone to grab his arm. He turned to see Angelica, expression grim.

“Not here, Chief.” she said.

“But John’s-”

“I know. I’ve had the luxury of time to freak out, and right now that’s something we don’t have. There’s a lot to fill you in on.”

• Angelica drags Herc off to a side room, and has just about gotten him up to speed with John being alive and also the Mad King, when they’re joined by the others. The others being his friends who also happen to make up most of the Revolution’s senior command, at least before everything went to hell this year. This includes Laf and Theo, who arrived a day ago. Theo had told Laf about John, of course, but he didn’t quite dare believe it until he saw him. At least it will look like they’re having a strategy meeting, and not a full blown freak out.

“So,” Herc said, face unreadable. “You’ve got the Mad King riding around in there?”

“That’s right.” John looked as if he expected Herc to turn away in disgust, and Alex couldn’t help but run a protective hand up his arm.

“He listening right now?”

“No.”

“Shame. I’m still hoping for the chance to call him him a poncy  fucker to his face.”

John blinked, clearly unsure what to say to that, and Herc finally smiled.  “Good to have you back, man.”

It didn’t come close to conveying how Herc really felt, but Alex new by now that he was more a man of action rather than words. So when he swept John into a crushing bear-hug, fingers gripping the back of his jacket as if to make sure he was really there, Alex knew that they would be alright.

In that respect, at least.  

In all other respects, they were the furthest thing from alright.

• Laf explains that Washington has already gone to mobilize as much of the resistance as is left, but that the key to separating the Mad King might be a soul mirror that the King used to use to drive his enemies mad by showing them how he could give them their deepest desires. It’s a dangerous object, but it just might work. Alex and John only look at eachother, incredulous. “That mirror we found the first Christmas? No fucking way.”

• It’s hidden in the room of lost things, but to get at it, everyone would need to leave the Room of Requirement. That would be a big tip off that something big was happening, although, as Angelica points out, it may be too late for that. The death eaters have been searching for them for weeks now, and there’s no way that the fight in the grounds, nor Washington’s return will go unnoticed. As if to confirm her point, Henry Laurens’ voice echoes across the castle.

‘We know that you are harbouring my son. This is a betrayal of your king of the highest order, yet your King loves his subjects. Your King is merciful. That is why we are granting you one hour. Return John Laurens to me before the hour is up, and we will leave this castle, and those who shelter within it, unharmed. Fail to do so, and we shall leave none alive.”

• No one considers givnig John up, not even for a second, but they are still divided on what to do next. Angelica argues that they should evacuate, get everyone out and scatter to various safehouses for as long as they can. Alex argues they should fight, and to his surprise, it’s Theo who sides with him. She saw firsthand the war in Paris, and knows that tonight may be the only chance to end it.

Alex dragged Angelica to one side because, out of everyone, he could always rely on her for the truth.

“It’s not going to be enough,” Angelica whispered.

“I know.”

“We’re not going to win this, Alex. We’ve been training for years but we’re still only kids, and if we invite a fight we’re going to be slaughtered”

“I know!” he ran his fingers over his face. “I know, alright? But that doesn't mean we can’t end it. We just need to give John time to kill the King. It’s the only way this can happen.”

“And you’re willing to die for that? To ask these people to die for that?”

He met the challenge in her gaze evenly. “I can’t ask these people to do anything. But I’m staying.”

Before Angelica could reply, there was a loud crash at the other end of the hall, accompanied by the sound of shouting. Both had their wands out in an instant, and raced towards the noise. Alex pushed through the crowds, heart in his mouth, only to stop dead once he saw the cause of the commotion.

“Aaron?” he asked incredulously.

His fellow Slytherin looked awful. There was no other word for it. His face was a patchwork various shades of purple and red scars, and the self-assured smoothness with which he carried himself was nowhere to be seen. But, somehow, impossibly, he was here.
Aaron held something up in his hand, and after a moment Alex realised it was a battered mobile. How the hell he’d managed to hold onto it throughout the year was anyone’s guess. “You called?” he said dryly.

“Holy fuck… “ John said. “How-?”

“Traitor!” Someone yelled and Alex turned to see Theo advancing on Aaron, wand raised and hellfire in her eyes. He moved to put his body between them.

“Hey, calm down!” Alex held up his hands to try and placate the girl but she hardly seemed to see him. She only had eyes for Aaron.

“How dare you show your face here, you slimy fuck?”

“Theo, please-“

She shot a beam of red light at him. Aaron didn't even raise his wand to try and defend himself, and Eliza just managed to cast a shield in time.

“Hey!” he said again, this time a shout. “Let’s all take a moment here and think, shall we?”

“But he’s a redcoat!” a voice called out from the crowd.

“Do you see him wearing red?” Eliza shot back. “Apart from, I don’t know, the scars where they tortured him?”

And still Aaron hadn't said a word in his own defence. People shouted back and forth across the crowd until Herc yelled “Shut up the lot of you!” The effect was instant, and Alex took a moment to marvel how the boy had morphed into a leader in the year since he had seen him. “Why don't we give Burr here a chance to explain himself before we go firing curses at each other?” he suggested, and all eyes turned to the boy in the centre of the room.  Aaron took a deep breath. But when he spoke, he was looking at Theo as if no one else mattered.

“Yeah. I’m a traitor. And a coward. And an idiot who didn't run when he had the chance. And yeah, I’ve spent most of the last year as the death eaters’ whipping boy. I’m not denying it, and I’m not trying to pretend I’m a good person. Some of the things I’ve done…” he trailed off, and his eyes flashed momentarily to John “…well, I’m never going to be able to make up for it. But I made a decision I was going to try. I finally worked out what side I was on, who my real family was, and I expected it to be the last thing I ever did, to be honest.”

“Why wasn't it?” Alex asked. “I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re not dead and all, but why the hell didn't they kill you?”

“They came bloody close.” He grimaced. “You’d disappeared, and they couldn't prove I’d let you go on purpose but that didn't really matter. They were angry, and what with… well, Hamilton decided to make an example to prevent any futher changes of hearts.”

Aaron didn’t look at Alex, but he couldn’t help the horribly prickle of guilt. His father was a monster, plain and simple, and if they’d only managed to get a clear shot on him at the Burr mansion, maybe this wouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

“Did you see the Mad King?” Hugh Mulligan asked from the crowd in half-horror, half awe.

“Did I…?” Aaron trailed off, finally flitting his eyes from Theo to shoot Alex a silent question. He answered with a miniscule shake of the head. They hadn’t told everyone about John. “No, I didn’t. Lucky I’m not important enough for him to waste his time on.

If it was an attempt at humour, it fell flat. Eliza was looking at him with horrified eyes, Alex felt like he wanted to throw up, and Theo still hadn't lowered her wand. Aaron swallowed, licking his dry lips.

“I might not be that good in a fire fight any more, but if you need another wand on your side… Figure I owe that much at least.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Angelica and Hercules glanced at each other, a silent conversation Alex couldn't begin to decipher (and he realised that the two of them really had been leading the students in more than just name while he’d been away) and eventually she nodded, a movement so subtle he almost missed it.

“You’re with me,” Herc told him. “We’re holding the bridge. I see so much as a hint of bullshit from you and I’m stunning your ass, you got it?”

“Got it.” Aaron replied, and odd echo of relief in his voice even through he still hadn't looked away from Theo. He took a step towards her, only for Peggy to grab her arm and pull her away. Angelica followed, but not before shooting him a look that said don’t you dare and he faltered.

“Leave her.” Alex told him.

“But I-“

“You’ve hurt her enough. It was bad enough when you were just dead.”

“Just dead?”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “I wasn't kidding, you know. I’m really glad you made it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I know. I was surprised too.”

It was almost reminiscent of the years they spent bickering back and forth without any malice behind the words. There was more than malice behind them now, though, a gulf between the two boys that might well be too broad to ever breach. Aaron must have sensed it, because he looked down at his hands and said “Made it might be a relative term, considering we’re about to fight to the death.”

Alex only sighed and clapped him on the shoulder, walking away to find Angelica again.

“That’s the spirit, Burr.”

• The fighting begins in earnest, with Hercules and Theo holding the main bridge, Laf and Adrienne, the tree-line of the forest, and James Madison, Angelica and Peggy taking control of defence from the Astronomy,Ravenclaw and Gryffindor towers respectively. Angelica doesn’t argue that she should be with her sisters, but regrets it as soon as Peggy leaves the room without looking back at her. Alex, John and Eliza meanwhile are going to search for the King’s Mirror and kill him. Alex refuses to talk about what will happen if the mirror doesn’t work, but John takes Eliza’s hand and says “You know it’s tonight or never, right? He’ll understand, in the end.” It’s not difficult to work out what he’s asking of her, and Eliza can’t even manage to hate herself for nodding.

• James Madison bumps into Thomas on the way to his post. Thomas isn’t wearing death eater robes, but he’s not wearing the muggle clothes that identify the Revolution, either. He begs James to leave with him while they still can, and as before James shakes his head with a soft smile. “I chose my side, Thomas. Leave, if you want to leave, but I’m not running. What the hell are you fighting for?” He leaves before Thomas can reply, and it’s only when he’s gone that Thomas whispers “You.” into the empty air.

• Alex, John, and Eliza begin searching for the mirror in the room of hidden things, and they can just hear the sounds of the battle raging outside. It’s in a tense silence that they move through the room, and Alex is about to suggest they split up after half an hour of nothing, when they round a corner to face James Hamilton. All three draw their wands, but Alex throws the other two backwards without so much as taking his eyes off his father (something he learned from JJ)  and tells them to keep looking. James Hamilton has brought him nothing but misery his entire life, and damn if he’s going to let this man hurt anyone else he loves.

• James is a better wizard than Alex without question, but Alex is angry and it’s as if his very magic is lashing out against his father, so they’re pretty well matched. One of Alex’s curses grazes James’ shoulder; James blows up a stack of crates next to Alex and he’s thrown backwards, head ringin and spots dancing before his eyes. Alex eventually manages to overpower his father, and James can only laugh with his son’s wand at his throat and his own thrown hopelessly out of reach. “I’m proud of you, Alexander,” he wheezes. “You’re everything I wanted in a son.” It’s the last thing James Hamilton ever says, and his words will never quite leave Alex for as long as he lives. He’s not sure how long he sits next to James’ body, before he stands and limps to find his friends.

• John and Eliza force themselves to leave Alex and ignore the sounds of James’ laughter that echoes around the room. They eventually find the mirror, and John can feel something inside himself uncoil at the mere sight of it. He should probably say something, but every second they waste, their friends are dying. He takes a deep breath, steps in front of the mirror, and is shocked not to see his own face staring back at him, but a pair of empty blue eyes below blonde curls. “Hi, Johnny,” The King says. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

• The battle plan goes to shit about two minutes after the death eaters storm the castle, and Angelica really shouldn’t be surprised. She knew this wouldn’t work, but if they want to stop her protecting the people she loves, they’ll have to kill her. In all the chaos, she somehow ends up holding a courtyard between the Mulligan brothers. She doesn’t notice Hugh fall next to her, but she notices Herc’s wordless scream as he’s a moment too late to catch him. And dear God, no, because Hugh could almost be asleep if not for his eyes, staring into his brother’s face and seeing nothing. If she lives to a hundred years, Angelica knows she will never get the sound of Herc’s curses as she pulls him away from Hugh out of her head. “There’s nothing you can do for him!” ANgelica screams, and something shatters in his expression. She drags him back behind their cracking lines, and wastes half a second on a silent apology before heading back out there. She has to find Peggy.

• “Whatever you’re trying,” The King in the Mirror tells John, “It won’t work. I’m stronger than you. Just give up and save us both the time.” Eliza can’t get any closer, it’s like there’s a field of energy separating her from John who stands perfectly still, eyes locked with a reflection that’s not his own. For a long moment, no one moves. The King smiles, and then someone crashes into him, knocking him backwards. There’s a second John in the mirror, struggling to hold the King in place.

“Kill him, ‘Liza!” Mirror John shouted, face contorted from the effort. Real John didn’t move. “Please, do it now! I can’t hold him much longer!”

She hesitated. They have no idea how this king of magic works, and she’d already proved she wasn’t willing to risk killing John. Hadn’t she?”

It’s obvious. Our next move is to kill me.

The day that Elizabeth Schuyler realises that we’re on the same side is the day that this foolish fight will finally be over.

You know it’s tonight or never, right? He’ll understand, in the end.

Eliza raised her wand. She pointed it at the mirror and just as Alex came running around the corner, she whispered “Reducto.”

It shattered into a thousand shards. And mingled with Alex’s cry of “Wait!” a high pitch scream echoed around the castle, shocked, and furious, and final.

John crumpled to the floor.

Silence fell.

And just like that, it was over.

They tended to their wounded.

(Both Eliza and Alex race to where John lies unmoving on the cold floor, Alex unaware he’s whispering “Please,” and “No,” and “Fuck, John.” Their eyes meet over him, and for a moment the world shatters around him. Then John coughs.

“Fucking hell, Schuyler,” he mumbles, eyes closed. “You’ve got a mean jinx, you know?.”)

(Aaron is in no fit state to be fighting, and at some point even the adrenalin runs out. He’s a beat too slow, gets caught by a curse from behind, and Theo realises that she’s still capable of fear after all. She stands over him, firing curses at any flash of black that moves, and is there when he wakes up three days later. It’s not forgiveness as she takes his hand, not quite, but it’s something.)

(It would be so easy, George Washington considers. He has Henry Laurens at wandpoint, empty handed and staring at him with unveiled hatred. One little movement, and he would never be able to hurt his students again. Instead, Washington sends a stunner into his chest and turns away without a word. There will be time for trials and accountability, when they have to put this broken world of theirs back together. And they are going to do it right.)

They counted their dead.

(Philip Schuyler carefully doesn't look at James Hamilton’s face when they bring him out. He said his goodbyes to his once-friend a long time ago.)

(At some point in her vigil over Aaron’s bed, reality catches up with Theo, and she realises that she pointed a wand between Timothy Edwards’ eyes and used the only unforgivable curse of her life without a drop of hesitation. She realises she doesn’t regret it.)

(Hercules carves Hugh’s headstone himself.)

(Whoever laid Thomas and James out in the Great Hall must have known them, because they lie next to each other. Even in death, with his face splattered with blood that may or may not be his own, the knot of James Madison’s tie is pristine. Their hands don’t quite touch. The inch or so of open air between them speaks louder than any words said in their honour.)

(Angelica Schuyler has always been one to achieve her goals. The only one that ever mattered was to keep her sisters safe, and she achieved that one as well. It was the last thing she ever did. Peggy never sees the streak of green aimed at her heart, only know that someone pushes her to the ground, and that Angelica dies with a smile on her face.

She hold Herc, afterwards, and neither can quite find the words to wonder how you’re supposed to move on.)

And after it all, came the terrifying question of what comes next?

• George Washington never wanted to lead, but what can he do in the space of such destruction. He leaves Hogwarts in Martha’s careful hands and rebuilds as best he can. And after two terms as minister he goes home, sits in the shade of the castle, and smiles.

• Theo and Aaron hold each other tight, because what else can they do. She surprises everyone, including herself, by speaking in his defence at his trial. So does Alex. So does John. And it’s not enough for him to get an innocent verdict, but it’s enough that Aaron can sleep at night. He’s given eighteen months in Azkaban, and the first thing he does on release is stagger over Theo’s doorway, and sleep for a day and a half. The second thing he does is go to a muggle tattoo parlor, and come home with a sand timer inked over his dark mark. Theo laughs when she sees it, calls him fucking pretentious, and kisses him to prove it.

• Herc and Peggy are married within a month of her turning eighteen. It’s far too quick, if you ask thier friends. It’s obvious that they’re both still hurting and not nearly healed, but no one tries to stop them. And their wedding is the first honestly happy day in a long time, even without Angelica there to see it. Laf is Herc’s best man, and and Herc is never living down the speech. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

• Laf goes back to France and sets up a school for those who can’t afford Beauxbatons. Then he does the same in the states.

• Peggy goes off to chase dragons. Quite literally. She’s home when she can be, and Herc knows he wouldn’t love her if she were differeng. There’s no point in sitting around and worrying about his wife (his wife!), so Herc goes back to the only thing he ever felt he was good at. Von Steuben is quitting, and there’s no one else Washington would have for the dark arts job.

• Alex and John move in together, and for a long time that’s all. Everyone needs time to heal, but not everyone wakes up in the middle of the night screaming and clinging to John until he’s sure he’s not dead. Not everyone needs the occasional whispered promise that they’re real. They coexist, and then they start sharing a bed, and its more than enough. And then there’s Eliza.

• She drifts, after the war. There’s a part of her that will never stop blaming herself for what happened, and its one she never fully shakes. She flits between the muggle and magical world, neither quite feeling like home, but she’s at peace with that, because there are always places she can go. Aaron and Theo have a draw for her clothes and sheets in their spare room. Herc’s office has a sofa. Peggy makes sure to always have a second hammock, camp bed, or patch of floor wherever her work takes her. And most of all, she drifts back to Alex and John’s flat.

• Sometimes she’s there for a night, sometimes a week. Once, she spends almost three months sleeping in the spare bed, and increasingly in thiers. t’s not a regular shape, the Alex-and-John-and-sometimes-Eliza household, but it's a perfect fit, and day by day they make it work. She’s never unhappy, but she’s never quite satisfied, either. She’s a waitress, an assistant at flourish and blotts, a lighting technician at a London theatre. She quietly funnels her wages into the orphanage Alex grew up in, and never tells a soul.

• One day, Alex wakes up and stumbles into the kitchen to find Eliza sitting there, three cups of tea steaming on the table and a laptop open in front of her. “I’ve been thinking,” she says without lifting her eyes from the screen. “That someone really needs to tell our story.” She works for a year, a story of two boys on broomsticks, a tattoo hidden under the sleeves of school robes, a young witch promising to do whatever it took to keep her sister safe. She’s still worried it's not enough.

• “You know,” says Theo, flicking through one of the later drafts. “You could sell this. Change some details here and there, and the muggles would eat it up.”

• And so she does.

• One night in the middle of the German winter, and Eliza appears in Peggy’s cabin with a panicked expression and a pregnancy test clutched tight in one hand. “Help me,” she whispers.

• Babies aren’t an alien concept - Laf and Adrienne have a beautiful boy named Georges - but it's terrifying all the same. To her credit, Peggy never once asks if its Alex’s, or John’s or someone else’s entirely. Neither do they, although by the time Philip is two, nobody has to. There’s Schuyler aplenty in his face, something of the twist to Peggy’s grin and the glint of Angelica’s eyes, but there’s no mistaking their particular shade of hazel, nor the freckles splashed across his face like droplets of ink. Alex couldn’t love him any more if he were his own, and Philip is in every way that counts.

• They all go to see Pip off to school on the first of September. Theo Burr, his best friend and partner in crime is starting with them and Georges, two years older and fiercely protective of his almost-cousins is guaranteed to get them into trouble rather than keep them out of it. Alex really wouldn’t have it any other way.

He watched the scarlet steam engine until it rounded the corner and disappeared from view. And then a little longer. It was only when Eliza poked him in the ribs with a knowing smile that Alex turned away. There would be time to worry about Pip, to send him a congratulations card whatever house he was sorted into and count down the days until he came home for Christmas. There would be time to console his seven year old sister Angie and tell her it wouldn’t be long until she could go off to Hogwarts too. But for now, Alex only took John’s hand, let  Eliza loop her arm through his his, and let them lead him away.

And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you, because the greatest secrets are always found in the most unlikely places.
And those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.