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, as well as all the other people you don't know.

Damien is Harry, as someone asked that, and as you can see, it is 1931. Also, someone asked if Dumbledore knows that he is Harry - it is safe to assume a big, fat no for that one. No-one knows, not even Harry/Damien himself. Hope this clears it up :D.

Warnings - Swearing

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


1st September, 1931

King's Cross Station was bustling with late morning activity, passengers and late train workers alike rushing through the station and onto their appropriate vessels of transport.

And in the midst of this, Damien McGonagall pushed his way through, trunk and wicker basket containing one small tabby cat sitting upon his cart, a look of nervousness, fear and excitement upon his young face, while his emerald eyes searched for Platform 9¾, as the ticket said.

But he could not find such a platform, and the guard had not been much help, practically chasing him off for his 'immature prank'.

Had he not experienced and practiced magic, and had he not experienced, still, the rush of touching the small piece of wood that was stuffed deep into his trousers, he would have himself believed it to be a prank.

And just as he looked desperately at the clock slowly ticking at five minutes to eleven, a call in the distance caused him to grin and sigh in relief.

Anne and Elizabeth stood, the two girls living several streets away having travelled together, waving at him and rushing towards him, both giving him small hugs before pulling him forward.

"We've got to get on the train." Elizabeth said breathlessly.

Damien nodded and followed, certainly not expecting to be practically thrown into a brick wall.

Thankfully, said brick wall was the gateway to the crowded Platform that they seeked, and rushed towards the slowly moving train, discarding their carts and pushing their trunks in before jumping on one at a time, Damien having to run slightly before jumping on, and then, together, the Trio moved off towards Hogwarts.

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Another boy had joined them soon afterwards, Marcus' younger brother Patrick.

The young boy was slightly shorter than Damien, with shaggy dark brown hair and warm chocolate brown eyes, and a cheeky grin - he had a wicked sense of humour as well, and their laughter often rang throughout the compartment. He was into sports, he was a Pureblood, so no Muggle equivalents were included, and loved food and horsing around. He had a natural flair of charming, matching Damien's if truth be told, although the young boy did not know of that.

Damien, while studying the young boy, took the time to look closer at Anne and Elizabeth as well.

Anne was the shortest of them all, with long, mousy brown hair and bright blue eyes - already she had come across to him as a loyal friend and a truly nice person, with an interest for light reading, poetry and music. Also, she had a compassionate nature, caring for plants and animals alike, and helped those she could. However, she could let loose and had a carefree nature that came across past first impressions.

Elizabeth was slightly taller than her, with wild red hair that she had forced into a plait and soft brown eyes. Damien knew already not to annoy her, as she apparently had sharp punch and he bruised like a peach, however, she was kind, and more perceptive than she appeared. She loved music, dancing, and reading, although it did not come across at first. She had a slight demanding and teasing nature, although loved to joke around, and cared for her family and friends.

And Damien himself was the unsaid leader of the group already.

He was the tallest of them all, with scruffy, wild, untameable, shaggy jet-black hair (it was hard to describe really) and glasses over his sparkling emerald green eyes that made him stand out in crowds. He was loyal, caring, reckless, brave, cunning and very smart, intelligent and sharp - very on the ball as his parents had said. He loved to read, write, draw and music, and was able to read people's expressions once he got to know them.

He loved to horse around, joking around when he could as well, although knew when to be serious. He was sensitive and caring, very compassionate to his family and friends, who he subconsciously feared he would lose, and also loved his sister dearly, promising to protect her as best he could - and he had done well so far.

Together, the new Quartet, got to know each other better, the feeling as if they had known each other all their lives settling upon them.

It was a great feeling to have.

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The caretaker, Ogg, led the group of nervous first-years from the train, onto the boats and towards the mighty Castle of Hogwarts, which for Damien felt as if he was returning home after a long journey, and off once again (after their first view of Hogwarts herself in all her glorious splendour) to a large door, which he knocked several times before it was opened by Professor Dumbledore, sporting soft baby blue robes with small orange stars on them.

"The first years, Professor Dumbledore." Ogg grunted.

"Thank you, Cerebus." Dumbledore nodded amicably, and the man turned away, retreating towards his hut on the grounds.

"Now, if you would please follow me."

With a small smile at Damien, he turned around, and the silent future students followed as if trudging towards certain doom.

This feeling was added to whenever he (and everybody else) heard someone whispering about fighting a troll.

They all paled rather dramatically.

Dumbledore had since led them into a room, and gave them a short talk about the Houses before leaving the room, only to return several minutes later declaring that they were ready for them.

Damien paled, as did Marcus, and together, with the two girls behind them, they walked into the magnificent Great Hall, the night's spectacular clear skies opening the heavens above them with constellations and planets, even a shooting star, appearing to the naked eye.

The first-years seemed to inflate at the sight of a Hat, which, to his shock, opened at a seem and started to sing.

The other students applauded and cheered after before, Dumbledore, in all his baby-blue glory, started to call names of students in order of surname.

"Abbot, Julian."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Allison, Jennifer."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Bones, Lucille."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

It was a few minutes later whenever he called the first of the group to their fate.

"Fletcher, Patrick."

The boy shot Damien a nervous grin before pushing up to the front, sitting on the stool and having the Hat set upon his head.

Several seconds later, it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The table on the far right started clapping, and Damien gave him a thumbs up before taking his seat, shaking Marcus' hand with a wide grin.

"Greeves, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth shot Anne and Damien a nervous smile. but looked rather composed before she too sat on the stool, where the Hat was, as tradition called for, placed upon her head.

It took around ten seconds before it too shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

It seemed an age, and yet so short a time, until he was called up himself.

"McGonagall, Damien."

He shot Anne a smile before walking on the platform, trying to ignore all the hundreds of pairs of eyes locked on his small form, and Dumbledore placed the Hat onto his own raven head, which engulfed him completely.

It was silent for a few seconds.

'I must say, it is hard to place you.'

Damien nearly jumped.

'W-what do you mean…um…hat?'

'You are fiercely loyal, intelligent, brave and yet cunning and ambitious - I must admit, I find it hard to decide…I have not had this much trouble since young Mr Dumbledore.'

'Where did you sort him eventually?'

'Into Gryffindor actually. Hence why he is now Head of Gryffindor House. However, it is your sorting I must focus on. I may need to delve slightly deeper if you don't mind.'

Damien had no idea what this meant, but agreed anyway.

'Um…no, not at all.'

He felt a slight tingling and heard the Hat gasp.

'What? What is it?'

'It is nothing Mr McGonagall, nothing at all. However, I must say, from my findings your suited house is most definitely "GRYFFINDOR!".

The last word was shouted for the Hall to hear, and he grinned happily, near-throwing the hat off before taking a seat at the applauding Gryffindor table, where he sat next to Patrick, and opposite Elizabeth, and where he was shaking several hands, including Marcus', who smiled widely at him.

Damien knew immediately the Hat had sorted him into the right House.

Several names later, Anne was also sorted in Gryffindor, much to the relief of the trio currently sitting at the table, all with crossed fingers and then large applause at the shouting of the Hat, and she quickly sat down.

They all exchanged happy looks at each other, before a movement at the front of the hall attracted their attention.

An old man stood before them, gentle green eyes surveying them all behind his rectangular spectacles. He had a short blonde beard, with shortish blond hair, and wore yellow robes, which blended in surprisingly well with his hair. However, despite appearances, he radiated wisdom, calm and was obviously was well respected, as when he held up his hands, any whisper that sounded ceased.

"Welcome students to another year at Hogwarts. However, before we begin our magnificent feast, I must make the start-of-term announcements. First-years, and older students, are reminded that the Forbidden Forest is off-limits to all those who do not want to suffer terribly."

He paused.

"Also, Mr Filch has asked me to remind you to not use magic in the corridors, and that several new Zonko's items have been added to his list of banned objects, which can be found pinned on his office door for those who wish to see.

"Now, I believe that is all, so please, tuck in."

Damien gaped as the tables suddenly were piled high with food that he both loved, hated and had never tried (and that was a lot considering the fact that they could barely afford enough food to share), before beginning to pile up his plate high, trying some of all available.

He was in heaven.

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Gryffindor Tower sat snugly behind a portrait of a Fat Lady, the password 'Onomatopoeia' (a Muggle term) opening the portrait to reveal a hole in the wall, which they all scrambled through, and they were led into the comfortable Common Room, which contained several desks around the walls to work, as well as many squashy armchairs loitered around the room and crackling fireplace, all red and very comfortable.

Marcus was the first-year boys' assigned Prefect, and he was currently showing them to their dorm, the girls being led through one door and the boys another, and after bidding Anne and Elizabeth goodnight Damien and Patrick followed, walking up to the top of the spiral staircase (they were obviously in one of the towers) and found five four-poster beds, deep-red velvet curtains hanging off of them.

Their trunks were now in front of their beds, and Damien near-collapsed onto the soft bed.

All of the boys were tired, but were all too excited and nervous to fall asleep yet. Instead, they sat up and started to talk, getting to know each other better, and sat on the floor in their pyjamas, their quilt covers wrapped around them.

"I'm Jacob Thomas." The young black boy opposite Damien began. "I'm from England, and I'm a Muggleborn Most people call me Jacob, although my friends call me JT, or Jay, whatever really. Either or both. Doesn't bother me."

"The name's Samuel Orr." The boy beside Jacob spoke up. "I'm from Ireland, and I'm a Muggleborn. People call me Sam, Sammy, Samuel or the likes, although adults and people I don't know too well stick to Samuel, you can call my any of those. I don't mind either."

"I'm Christopher Scott." The boy on Damien's right said. "I'm from England, and am Half and Half. My mum's a Muggle and my Dad a Wizard. I'm called Christopher by adults, although others call me Chris, Scott or Scotty. Any is fine."

"Patrick Fletcher." Patrick spoke from the other side of Damien. "I'm from England, and I'm a Pureblood. Adults call me Patrick, although I'm called Patrick, Paddy, Fletcher and Fletch. Don't mind any of those."

"I'm Damien McGonagall. I'm from Scotland and am a Muggleborn. My parents call me Damien, but my sister calls me Demon sometimes, and sometimes by my middle names, Alexander, with the alternative Alex, Alec and the likes, and James, with Jamie and others. And just like you all, I don't mind any of those."

With these short introductions, the Quintet began to talk amongst themselves, all slowly coming to know the others rather well considering the fact they stayed up until midnight, whenever they all retreated to their beds, and instantly fell asleep.

Damien's first day.

Now, the big question.

Should I do highlights over the years until he turns sixteen, or make it longer. Or even turn the years into one huge story? It'd be rather long anyways, but would you rather more details etc during the years?

Put it in your reviews!

Also, what do you think he should name the cat? It's a small tabby (couldn't resist), and whoever gives me the perfect name will have a special mention in my notes in the next chapter. :D