Disclaimer - You all know the drill. HP and all related characters belong to the mighty JK bows. Songs, companies and other people etc. belong to whoever they belong to.

Demetrius and Athena McGonagall belong to me.

Warnings - Swearing

Author's note - Thank you to all my reviewers!

One crispy breakfast, a surprise baby girl and ten long years later, the small family sat once again in the kitchen of the small house, on November 1st, 1929.

"Thank you so much!" Damien grinned brightly, his emerald eyes lighting up as he opened the wrapped package his parents had put on the table in front of him.

Inside, for the boy's eleventh birthday, they had scraped together enough money to buy him the book he had wanted for so long, a Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.

The family were short on money as they had always been, Demetrius being paid the dismal fee of a soldier, and Athena being paid the even more dismal fee of a nurse (which was co-incidentally how they had met - their jobs), they had usually only just enough to get by with food, heat and shelter, as well as the odd pocket money for the children, who had learnt over the years to never expect much for Christmas or birthdays, or to ask for anything.

Because of this, books, for Damien, were like a world away for him; a place to help escape some of the rougher times of his young life, and to simply drift away from normal, everyday life, immersed in the words of authors long having passed on, and some of whom were closer than that.

"We know that you've wanted that book for a while, so we saved up and managed to get a good copy."

Damien gave his parents the biggest smile they had ever seen before jumping at them and pulling them into a big hug.

They glanced at each other and shared a small smile. It had definitely been worth it.

A knock on the door interrupted the family moment.

Demetrius, surprised, pulled away, and with Athena walked towards the front door, Damien in the mean time turning towards his little sister.

Minerva was a year younger than him, and although they weren't related by blood, they looked rather familiar, with their raven-black hair and varying shades of green eyes, Damien with emerald and Minerva was an earthy-green shade.

Together, unlike many siblings, they went on walks together and the likes, and got along famously well, spending their time sitting together, reading, writing, practicing the classes that their mother gave them or something of the likes.

"I can't believe they bought me 'A Christmas Carol!'" Damien said happily, hugging the book close.

"You're so lucky, Demon." Minerva giggled, and giving him a hug and a quick 'happy birthday'.

"Thanks, Min."

She was about to say something else, only to be cut off by his father's call.

"Damien, could you come into the living room, please?"

He sounded strangely anxious.

Damien and Minerva glanced at each other before moving towards the room, together.

Inside, he found the most curiously strange looking man he had ever seen.

He looked around fifty or sixty-years-old (he was actually in his eighties). He had a long, auburn beard and matching long hair, a crooked nose, cerulean blue eyes with a near-blinding twinkle and the oddest looking clothes he had ever seen - bright green robes (Damien thought it looked like a bathrobe) with large purple stars on them.

"Um, you wanted me?" Damien asked, suddenly nervous for some reason. The man had a presence about him that was oddly familiar. But if he'd met the man, he would have known immediately. He wasn't someone you could easily forget.

"Yes." The man said calmly. "Please, take a seat."

Damien and Minerva both entered, and sat in between their parents.

"Mr McGonagall, I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I am here to offer you a place at our fine establishment this next coming term."

Silence.

"Witchcraft and Wizardry?" Athena asked critically. "As in magic!"

Dumbledore nodded. Apparently, he had done this many times.

"It is a rare trait, with only one in a hundred people in Britain actually possessing magical traits, let alone the ability to harness them. And you, Mr McGonagall, are one these few."

Damien's mouth was opening and closing, but he managed to find his voice.

"But I can't be a Wizard…it's just impossible!"

Dumbledore surveyed him with a small smile.

"Have you ever done anything unusual? Whenever you were angry or scared?"

Damien went to say no, but paused.

"Well, there was that time whenever that Dursley boy was pushing my friend Jacob around, and his jacket caught on fire…and then he slipped over the ball on the ground and fell into a puddle…and then whenever I turned his hair green…and then…I think I believe you now." Damien said, obviously avoiding his parents' looks.

Apparently they hadn't known those things.

"I must say, he did float his teddy bear away from the hot stove, before it caught fire…I just thought I was hallucinating." Demetrius mused.

Dumbledore chuckled and searched into his robes for a second, before bringing out a letter, with his name, address and, strangely, 'The Living Room'.

He took it slowly, twirling it around in his hands and noticing the wax-seal with a strange shield on it, before opening it and slowly read it.

"Broomsticks? Toads, cats or owls! And these books…"

He handed the list to Athena, but inside, his excitement was dying down.

They didn't have nearly enough money to pay for all this.

Apparently, Athena and Demetrius were aware of this too.

Even Dumbledore was in the know.

"The Ministry is, at the time, offering scholarships for Muggleborn students, if you choose to accept. This would mean that Damien's schooling fees, including those for books and the likes, would be sent to them. They are very willing to pay for the duration of his schooling career."

"Sorry sir, what's a Muggleborn?" Damien asked curiously.

"A Muggle is someone who has no magic, and a Muggleborn is someone born of a Muggle, but who is able to use Magic." Dumbledore calmly explained.

Demetrius and Athena, on the other hand, after a few seconds of quiet discussion, spoke next.

"I think that this 'scholarship' would be beneficial. We just wouldn't be able to support him otherwise. What is the exchange rate into your money? If we were to give Damien a bit of spare money, incase?" Demetrius asked.

"I believe, at the moment, it is two galleons to a penny. There are seventeen sickles to a galleon and twenty-nine knuts to a sickle. The reason for such unusually low rates is because of some disruption because of a proposed Goblin Rebellion. I would suggest any money you would like to exchange, to get it done as soon as possible. The rates are usually terrible for Muggleborns." Dumbledore thought for a second before replying.

"And there is the possibility of attending one of our gatherings in Diagon Alley, London. This is where you will find your supplies, and will be shown around by one of our teachers, along with several Prefects. There will also be several Muggleborns there, who are in similar knowledge of our world. These are available to participate in at several points throughout both this and next year. There is one coming up within the week, this coming Saturday. We have delivered our letters earlier this year, you see, and because of this, we have moved forward our gatherings.

"Of course, you are all welcome to attend."

It was decided that, although everyone else was busy with something or other (despite Minerva's obvious disappointment), Professor Dumbledore would come by - Floo Powder did he call it? - and pick Damien up.

And Damien, all this time, could only think of one thing.

Why did this all seem do familiar?

Thanks to all my reviewers so far, and thanks for reading this story :D.