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, Marcus Fletcher,Elizaneth Greeves and Anne Rossbelong to me - basically people you don't recognise.
Warnings - Swearing
Author's note - Thank you to all my reviewers!
Reviewer asked - Will Damien remember his past life? How did Dumbledore's hair change?
I answer - He won't remember, but he will have de-ja-vu moments. You know, the feeling that you've experience something before. That type of thing. And Dumbledore is a lot younger here, and a few years later, in Riddle's diary, are we told his hair is auburn. It is natural to assume that it was auburn before, hence auburn whenever he goes to see Damien.
Reviewer asked - But what happened to poor Minnie? Lol, but why isn't she a witch. At least as far as Dumbledore can tell. And you'd think he would be able to tell a ten year old witch. Maybe not a five year old but one year away from Hogwarts?
I answer - Minerva is a Witch (although she doesn't know yet. Dumbledore is only there to visit Damien, and he won't know of any new students for the next year. He can probably tell she is a Witch, but the priority at the time is Damien.
The week passed slowly for an excited Damien, who was normally much more subdued than suddenly clapping his hands together and jumping several times.
This had come to happen a lot.
And on the glorious Saturday of his visit to Diagon Alley, Damien awoke early and ate a quick breakfast before rushing up the stairs and into the bathroom before his father (much to said father's annoyance - he believed that Damien took after his mother in spending 'a bloody age' in the bathroom), and thoroughly cleaning his teeth and cleaned himself and his wild, unruly hair before rushing to get changed in his casual slacks and shirt, with his recently-shined boots.
He had just managed to get downstairs and kiss both his sister and mother goodbye before the fire crackling in the fireplace roared a dark green, and Albus Dumbledore neatly appeared, today in robes of navy blue with yellow witch's hats occasionally appearing.
"Hello Mr McGonagall, are you ready to go?"
Damien nervously handled the few pennies from his piggy bank, scraped together over the previous year, and nodded.
Dumbledore gave him a calming smile, and put a soothing hand on his shoulder.
"Now, to get to Diagon Alley, you must take a handful of the powder, throw it into the fire, step in and clearly state your destination, which shall in this case be 'The Leaky Cauldron'. You must articulate clearly, or who knows where you would end up."
He laughed. Damien swallowed, allowing a polite smile on his face.
"I shall follow behind you."
Damien took the offered powder and took a deep breath, a last weary but excited glance cast at his mother and sister who were watching him with baited breath, incase afraid he may be burnt, and threw the powder in, saw it turn green and stepped in.
"The Leaky Cauldron!" He called out, and he felt himself pulled away from his home.
The ride was nauseating.
He felt sick from spinning around so much, and had long ago tucked his arms in and closed his eyes before, after what seemed an eternity, he felt himself thrown to the floor.
Pale as paper, he managed to crawl out of the way before, seconds later, Dumbledore arrived, and helped him up.
Damien wanted to say thank you to the man, but didn't dare open his mouth yet, as his head was still spinning.
"Are you quite alright, Mr McGonagall?"
Damien nodded slightly, feeling the creeping sickness fall away as quickly as it had appeared, and he felt himself directed to a seat before being gently sat down, Dumbledore obviously not having believed him.
"Would you like a drink?"
Finally daring to open his mouth, he said a quiet 'yes' and searched for some of the coins in his pocket.
Dumbledore stopped him, reaching into his own pockets.
"It is quite an experience to taste butterbeer for the first time." He stated simply, paying the bartender, a young man named Tom, several small bronze coins.
"Also, Muggle money isn't accepted in the Wizarding World."
Damien sheepishly put the coins inside his pocket.
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Since the two were rather early, Dumbledore began to explain the Wizarding World to Harry, and describe the four houses to him, as well as the unfortunate prejudices which, at the time, were as strong as ever, with the steady rise of a Dark Lord, named Grindlewald.
"So there are many Purebloods who discriminate against Muggles and Muggleborns because they aren't 'pure'?" Damien asked, taking a small sip of the delicious drink.
Dumbledore, drinking his own, nodded.
"It is a shameful thing, and with Grindlewald rising, this tension will only increase."
Dumbledore fell into a slightly sombre silence.
Damien felt rather awkward, not wanting to speak first incase he disrespected the teacher.
However, Dumbledore, sensing the young man's discomfort immediately pulled himself together, and a twinkle returned once again to his eyes as he asked the question that he seemed to know would get the young man talking.
"So, Mr McGonagall, do you like to read?"
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It was a half hour later whenever the small number of Muggleborn students had gathered together nervously around two small tables, with Dumbledore (who was sitting beside several teachers and Prefects, along with Damien who still sat by his side) explaining about the Wizarding World to them, before, after answering several questions, leading them into the not-so-busy Diagon Alley and all its splendour, through an alleyway and a magical gateway.
Damien had been amazed, and had looked at the wonders around him while following Dumbledore, talking to a Prefect named Marcus Fletcher, who was teaching him about the markets and shops, bargains, and even, much to Damien's surprise and slight amusement, how to pick pockets and the likes.
Damien was afraid Dumbledore might overhear.
He did.
However, with twinkling eyes, he blatantly ignored it.
And Damien had made his first friend at Hogwarts.
Dumbledore had, by this time, led them all into the bank and up to one of the counters, several other teachers taking their assigned first-years and Prefects with them.
Damien was with two girls, who he began to shyly talk to.
"Hello."
The first girl, with brown hair, brown eyes and lightly tanned skin, smiled at him.
"Hello. My name's Elizabeth Greeves. What's yours?"
"Damien. Damien McGonagall." Damien smiled, holding his hand out for her to shake, which she did with a little giggle.
The other girl took this cue.
"Anne Ross."
They all shook hands, laughing amongst themselves, before, in turn, each went up to exchange their money.
Damien went first, handing, blushing, his pennies to the goblin (he had been rather shocked when Dumbledore first explained this), who weighed them and handed him 10 galleons, twenty sickles and several knuts, along with a small card.
He picked it up curiously, and found, to his surprise, his name, picture, and details.
"This is for the Ministry Scholarship Scheme. You can produce this at any shop, and the charges for your school supplies shall be sent to the Ministry."
Still blushing under Elizabethand Anne's gazes, he accepted it with question and stepped out of the way, allowing the girls to go in turn, each with a large amount of money to exchange.
Damien pretended not to notice.
The girls were rather embarrassed.
"Now, we shall begin." Dumbledore began, and began to move out of the bank. The four followed after him.
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Damien had nearly finished purchasing all his supplies, having spent a long time inside Flourish and Blott's and purchasing several extra books with his own money (and a book on beginner's Transfiguration for Minerva, a recommended title by Dumbledore, who was the Transfiguration Professor) as well as a small black kitten that cost only several knuts, when the quintet finally moved into Ollivander's.
As he entered, and he felt the ancient magic tingle on his skin, and as the small bell sounded, he felt the feeling, once again, that he had experienced this before.
Even the man with the mysterious silver moon eyes was familiar in some way.
He shook his head.
"Ah, Mr Dumbledore, Oak, 14 inches, phoenix feather core. How is it doing?"
"Very well thank you." Dumbledore bowed his head slightly.
The man, presumably Ollivander, then turned to the first-years, all of whom took a subconscious step backwards, and he got a ghost of a smile on his face, before signalling for Elizabeth to go first.
Swallowing, she stepped forward.
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Thirty minutes later twenty wands lay tried and tested on the old counter, and a slightly embarrassed Damien picked up yet another, which caused a chair to be set alight, before, after a second, Ollivander reappeared.
Muttering under his breath, he handed an old, dust-layered box to Damien.
"Ash, 13½ inches, with the tail-feather of a phoenix. Supple. An all-rounded wand." Ollivander explained, watching Damien closely.
Damien opened it carefully, and set his eyes upon the beautiful wood, before moving to touch it.
The second his fingers connected, he felt his nerves come alive with magic, and he raised it above his head, bringing it down in a series of red and gold sparks.
Ollivander looked very excited, and slightly shocked.
"Curious…very curious."
Damien looked at him.
"Why? What's curious?"
There was an anticipating silence.
"That wand, Mr McGonagall, has been on the shelves of this shop for so long, it is not known who this wand originally belonged to - I do know that it belonged to someone else, which is all I know, unfortunately - however, every person who has attempted to hold this wand experienced a very powerful ward in place, not allowing an ounce of magic to leave it. It is very curious that it chose you, Mr McGonagall. You are destined for great things. Yes, indeed."
Damien paid and nearly ran out of the shop.
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