(A/N I am aware you only get acceptance letters if you live in Britain, but i mean... Its Hamilton, he can get a letter. Edit: I'm currently working on chapter twenty three, and would like you to know this book makes Jefferson insanely evil, there is beating up and harassment involved with this book as well)

I sprinted as fast as i could down the streets of Nevis. Three boys and a dog chased me through the old stone streets. It was not my fault i stole their bread. I mean, whats a starving kid going to do? Actually EAT the food from the orphanage? Now that was unheard of. I quickly skirted behind an old trading post and hid behind it.

The boys ran right past me, down the street with their dog barking loudly. I smirked and hummed as i walked the opposite way. Then I heard barking behind me, and whipped around to see the dog. It must have sniffed me out. I turned and sprinted the other way, but I ran into one of the boys.

"That's our meal," One of them said menacingly.

"technically, it's mine. i'm the one eating it," I said, and took a huge bite out of the bread.

One of the boys lunged at me, and i fell to the ground under their weight. I struggled to get out or their grip, but quickly felt someone punch me in the side. Another boy came up and snatched the bread from my hands. I'm not loosing this time. I thought. 

I pushed myself up, making the guy on top of me fall over in the dirt. Then the strangest thing happened. The bread floated over towards me, it flew right out of one of the boys hands and floated in my direction. I jumped up in the air and caught it without thinking, and sprinted away down the ally way. The boys gave chase again, probably not noticing the fact the bread just flew. Did i do that?

I skirted around some obstacles, then ran up one of the main streets of the tropical island. Nevis was an Island in the Caribbean, we often got pirates stopping by, people from all over came to try and make a profit off of sugar cane. The island was a mountain, with tropical forests surrounding the place. I had grown up here, with my brother, we would play in the tropical forest as children.

But now I, even though I had only just turned fifteen a couple days ago, was not a child. I depended on me, myself and I. My brother, James, left to be a businessman. my mother died when I was younger, from a sickness I survived through. My father had left us before I could even remember. Then moving in with my cousin never worked out, he committed suicide.

And with that, I was alone. An orphan. The only relatives I had where unreachable by letter, because I don't know where they are.  But I had survived in my orphanage. All I needed was a place to live, be able to write, read and sleep. I can handle food and water on my own. The clothing I wore was even stolen, but nobody would care that they lost a cheap pair of pants, A old shirt and some old torn brown jacket.

As I ran through the streets I recognized exactly where I was. I dashed between people, dodging wagons, and ran straight into the forest. The hot humid air instantly because more humid, and it already started to get harder to breathe.

I slid under a small tree, ducked behind some bigger-then-me ferns and finally reached my favorite tree. I quickly grabbed onto the tree and used the lowest branches to help me climb up. Once I reached about halfway up, I stopped to take a breath. 

From up in the jungle tree, I could see the ferns and bushes moving as something moved through them. I squinted through the leaves that blew in the breeze right in my face. I quietly began to eat my bread. Just in case they caught me, I would still at least get the food.

Once they got closer I could see the white clothing they where wearing. I ducked low behind a big cluster of leaves, made sure they weren't looking, then climbed up higher in the tree. I was about three fourths the way up when I spotted my little nest. I jumped up onto it.

I had found this big eagle nest sitting near the top of this tree a year ago. the branches surrounding it and holding it up where strong enough to hold me, so I had taken palm tree leaves and other plants and made the nest a sturdy platform for me to hide on.

I also had a book or two up here, just in case I had to stay here for a while. Over time, I had earned a name around these parts. They called me The Little Scavenger, sometimes The Bandit or The Little Racoon. Although, the closest people to me called me Little Lion. For some reason, people liked calling me little. The British had been trying to catch me for a while, along with other civilians like the boys and the dog. But so far, nobody had found his secret hiding place.

Nobody even knew that he went to the orphanage, I was lucky for that. Then I thought back to the flying bread. Right, flying bread. You mean the bread the clumsy boy dropped and somehow floated upward and towards me. Pfft. 

I finished off the bread. It didn't taste magical, so I think I'm fine. I made sure the boys and the dog where gone, then I swiftly climbed back down the jungle tree. My feet hit the ground hard, and then I took off sprinting towards the orphanage. 

Tree branches, leaves, ferns, bushes and other tropical plants all smashed into my face. At least I didn't trip on a rock. I thought, remembering when I was running and tripped on a small rock. I had to stitch up my own arm that day.

Then my foot hit something and I was sent rolling down a hill. once I steadied myself back up on two feet, I realized I had tripped on a rock. In fact, it was the same rock. Come on! I thought, now limping slightly. 

I continued through the woods, and as I was almost out of the forest and onto the streets I felt something wrap around my foot. Suddenly, in a fast motion, I was hanging upside down from a rope wrapped around my ankle. I looked around, my long brown hair hung down in front of my eyes, making it hard to see.

I would not get caught! I could end up in a lifetime of jail and eating rats for a living!

I shook my head hard, then attempted to wiggle out of the rope. I stared at the rope with deep concentration. That's when the rope set on fire. The rope... SET ON FIRE?!? I fell to the ground on, my head. I sat up dizzyingly and slapped myself in the head so i did not loose consciousness.

Someone set a trap for me. But how do I explain the fire? Maybe someone wanted to help get free and somehow set it on fire. Its not like I made it set on fire, that's impossible. I thought. Besides, I just hit myself on the head. of course I'm seeing things.

I staggered onto two feet, my hand resting on the tree for balance. I slapped myself in the head multiple times before my blurry vision went back to normal. I staggered the rest of the way to the orphanage, almost falling over multiple times. I finally reached the back door to the orphanage and walked inside.

"Little Lion, you rascal!" Someone shouted just as i entered the room. "What happened now?"

"Nothing," I grumbled, sitting down on a wooden crate and closing my eyes.

Right before I was about to fall asleep, I heard a knock on the door. I jumped off the crate.

"Front door," One of the people here grunted.

I sat back down to relax. I chilled with some other people in the storage area, it also had a door leading to it, That was the back door. When I hear a knock, my first reaction is to hide. But when the knock is from the front door, that means its someone looking for children or the orphanage owner, so I was safe.

"Hello?" I heard the orphanage owner say, her voice muffled.

"Who left this letter?" The orphanage lady asked, The only reply was the hoot of an owl.

I heard a door shut somewhere overhead, and listened as footsteps walked around. 

"ALEXANDER HAMILTON GET YOUR MANGY LITTLE BUTT OVER HERE!" I heard the orphanage owner shout. 

She pronounced my last name like Hah-Mel-Ten again. Even though I had corrected her a million times on how to pronounce it, she still said it weird. I despise that lady.

"Someones been caught," One of the boys whispered.

I sighed. I stood up and walked out of the storage room and down the hallway. I rounded a corner and walked up a small stair case, where the orphanage owner stood in front of me in an intimidating way.

"Yes Ma'am?" I asked politely.

"This is for you," The orphanage owner said, handing an envelope to me.

I blinked in surprise. A letter? form who? there was nobody in this world who ever cared about me that was still alive. Has father thought about me? Has James realized I'm still alive? I felt a bit of hope sneak into my heart for the first time in years. James might have a family. He might have gone off, found a nice job, and gotten adopted. He might want to take me in. Or father, father might want me back.

I grabbed the letter after a bit of hesitation. It was sealed with a symbol he had never seen before. So its not them. I thought, my spirits dropped. 

I carefully opened the letter. It was in neat handwriting.

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress.

Owl? school? witchcraft? equipment? deputy headmistress?

 What type of crap was this?