A little later, Damien found himself sitting under the willow by the lake, a slim branch in hand, a fat, squirming bug tied to the end like bait.
And he was still wondering how on earth things had ended up like this.
The reason was painfully simple.
On his left, Remus sat up straight, watching his every movement with rapt attention.
On his right, Severus and Lily—whom he’d just met—were sitting together, chatting quietly while occasionally sneaking looks at his so‑called fishing technique.
Sharing the shade with three other people like this, Damien couldn’t help stealing a glare at Remus, who was now crouched obediently at his side.
Remus only blinked back at him, confused.
Then, after having spent the entire morning goofing around, Remus suddenly tilted his head in thought.
A moment later, as if he’d just been struck by a great revelation, he scooted back two steps.
With that, he shot Damien a brilliant, self-satisfied grin—cautious, but still radiating that “as expected of me” pride.
Looking at the boy he had personally saved, Damien found he couldn’t truly get angry.
He shut his eyes and tried to talk himself down.
“I chose this, I chose this, I chose this…”
While Damien’s thoughts drifted, Severus, on his other side, finally couldn’t hold back his curiosity and muttered:
“I’m not doubting you, but with such crude fishing tools… will a fish really bite?”
Before he even finished, Lily swatted his arm lightly in reproach.
“Damien’s confident enough to use a willow branch, so he must have caught something before.
Let’s just watch carefully.
And keep your voice down—don’t scare the fish away.”
Oh, for Merlin’s sake.
Hearing that, Damien couldn’t help giving Lily another look.
With charm that natural, no wonder Professor Snape had been hopelessly hung up on her his whole life.
Right on cue, a faint blush crept over Severus’s pale cheeks.
He ducked his head and leaned closer to murmur in Lily’s ear,
“I know.
I’ll be careful.”
Watching this scene, Damien howled internally,
“What do you know!
Give me back my taciturn Professor Snape!
If the little snakes of Slytherin saw you like this, their hearts would shatter.”
“A story about my Slytherin head’s unrequited love for a Muggle-born witch would definitely sell like crazy.”
Just as Damien’s inner drama reached its peak and he had a mountain of complaints ready to spill out, Remus quietly leaned over and whispered in his ear:
“Damien, look at them.
It’s so strange.
Why do they have so many secrets to whisper about?”
Damien glanced at his friend, feeling both tired and resigned.
‘Big dummy, stop overthinking it,’ he grumbled inwardly.
With how they’re acting, I’d bet the moment they set foot in Hogwarts, the whole school will know everything.
The afternoon sun slowly softened from harsh to gentle as time slipped by.
The four children had been waiting beneath the willow tree for more than an hour.
On one side, Severus and Lily were talking in low voices, sharing few quiet laughs.
Severus’s early hint of hostility toward Damien had already faded into genuine gratitude.
Do you understand how precious it is when two people can sit together and never run out of things to say?
Damien mused silently.
Right, James?
Meanwhile, Remus on the other side was dying of boredom.
He’d dragged Damien out earlier just because he’d had too much energy to burn, only to be duped into sitting under a tree for ages.
He didn’t dare bother Damien, afraid he’d scare the fish away.
He was so bored he’d almost plucked the little patch of grass in front of him completely bald, exposing the slightly damp earth underneath.
Just as Remus was about to suggest Damien give up fishing and join him in the bright future of being a professional loiterer—
Ripples suddenly spread across the lake’s surface.
Damien’s relaxed expression sharpened at once.
He drove the willow branch down decisively, the slender switch quivering in his hands.
Remus, Severus, and Lily all fixed their eyes eagerly on the water.
To them, Damien looked like he was locked in a serious battle of strength and will with a fish.
But if someone could have seen through the lake’s slightly murky water…
They’d have noticed the poor fish already trussed up tight in strands of water-twisted “seaweed.” If that pitiful little thing—barely three inches long—could talk, it would be cursing up a storm.
You used a sneak attack!
You’re playing dirty!
You little piece of trash, you’ve got no real skill at all!
And the saddest part was, the reason it had even been interested in the bait in the first place was partly due to the subtle coaxing of that devious-looking ape up on the shore.
Under the willow, Damien held the branch and put on a full performance.
His meticulous acting kept the three children’s eyes glued to the rippling surface.
At last, judging that the fish was thoroughly dizzy from all the shaking, Damien flicked his fingers to quietly cancel the Transfiguration.
The fish at the end of the branch flew through the air and landed on the grass.
“Wow!!!”
Lily’s startled cry rang out as she and Remus rushed over, crowding around the fish.
The little creature, jolted awake by the sudden lack of water, flopped desperately on the grass, its scales flashing as it jumped about.
Only Severus stayed where he was.
He didn’t step forward; instead, he frowned slightly and watched Damien, suspicion in his dark eyes.
‘Did he catch that?’ Damien wondered.
‘Sharp as ever.’
On the surface, though, Damien only gave Severus a roguish smile, then tilted his head meaningfully toward the two children cheering over the fish.
Severus’s heart gave a small jolt.
He understood at once and quietly followed Damien a few steps aside.
Pressing down the flood of questions in his chest, he forced out the one that mattered most, his voice unsteady and seeking confirmation: “Are… are you a wizard too?”
Damien smiled and held out his right hand.
“Let me introduce myself properly.
I’m Damien McGonagall.
My father’s a wizard and my mother’s a Muggle.
Remus over there staring at the fish is the same.
We’ve both awakened our magic, and we should both be going to Hogwarts in a couple of years.”
Awkwardly, Severus reached out and shook Damien’s hand.
A faint flush of shyness and embarrassment climbed into his cheeks before he finally spoke,
“My father’s a Muggle and my mother’s a witch.
I’ve already awakened my magic.
We’ll be classmates, then.”
“Then,” Damien chuckled, “what about that girl you’re always hanging around with?”
At that, the colour deepened on Severus’s already pale face.
“She… she’s a Muggle… Maybe once I go to Hogwarts, we won’t keep in touch.”
The awkward words couldn’t hide the regret and sadness in his voice; anyone could hear it.
Damien’s brows drew together.
“If you think she’s not good enough for you, why are you still so close to her?”
“Who said she’s not good enough for me!
She’s the best!”
The words burst out of Severus before he could stop them.
Realising what he’d just blurted, he went scarlet.
Next to him, the ever-mischievous Damien kept poking at the sore spot, grinning.
“Severus, have you already picked out a wife at nine years old?”
The young Severus Snape could never have imagined that the boy smirking in front of him—Damien McGonagall—would become the one “troublemaker” in his life who could so easily make him lose control of his emotions.
Summer holidays were a glorious stretch of days, each one brimming with freedom and restless energy.
Once Catherine and Hope heard that the two children at home had made new friends, the mothers—who had always been strict—actually relaxed their curfew rules.
After that, Damien and Remus hauled Severus along to visit Lily’s house several times.
Before long, Lily’s older sister, Petunia, was pulled into their little group as well.
The five of them tore through Cokeworth’s parks, fished by the lakes, and shared dripping ice creams on sun-baked benches.
Their bright laughter and beaming faces made passers-by smile back at the noisy, lively bunch of children.
It was worth mentioning that, ever since Damien had pierced straight through his stubborn shell, Severus—who’d always bottled himself up and refused to show his feelings—finally started sticking to Lily’s side openly, right in front of everyone.
Petunia watched with an “I knew it” sort of look.
Damien understood: nine-year-old Severus might not fully grasp why he liked following Lily so much…
But in that hazy, half-knowing way, he’d at least learned the first lesson—to face his own heart, instead of insulting others out of cowardice.
Good times, however, never last long.
One sweltering midsummer afternoon, the five of them were sitting under a tree playing games when Lily suddenly acted on a whim.
The small blade of grass between her fingers transformed into a wildflower in an instant.
A pure-white bloom rested in Lily’s palm.
Petunia’s eyes shone with surprise and delight.
Behind Lily, Severus’s face lit up; his usual carefully held composure shattered by the sight.
His cheeks flushed, unable to hide his sheer joy.
Remus, beside them, was honestly happy for Lily as well.
But when Damien looked at the uncomplicated smile on Petunia’s face, a flicker of unease passed through him.
He suspected that this pure happiness wouldn’t last.
In this little gang of five, four of them were future wizards.
Petunia hadn’t noticed that fact yet; at the moment, her heart was full of pride in her sister’s special gift.
But when fate one day laid the truth before her, bare and merciless, would she still remember this untainted joy?
Damien remembered the first time he’d picked up “Harry Potter” in his previous life, how he’d ached over Harry’s misery and the abuse he suffered at home.
Yet after growing up and being battered by the wider world, looking back at Petunia and Vernon, their cruelty felt less like pure malice and more like the ugliness of people who were never good enough, never rich enough, never strong enough.
Damien watched the cheerful scene before him with a helpless expression.
Everyone was gathered happily, chatting and laughing.
In his previous life, Petunia had only slowly grown to envy and resent her sister after all her desperate efforts failed—helped along by her parents’ conscious and unconscious comparisons and neglect.
Just from how she later never spoke ill of Professor Snape by name, you could tell she wasn’t driven by pure malice toward wizards.
She simply couldn’t accept her own mediocrity.
And really, how could anyone be blamed for having—or lacking—innate magical talent?
Damien quietly tugged Remus aside and said in a low voice:
“Go home and get that set of Gobstones.”
“Damien, those are magic toys,” Remus whispered back, hesitating.
“Mum told me not to take them out casually, especially… with Petunia here.” He sneaked a nervous glance at Petunia.
“Lily just showed magic, didn’t she?
Look how shocked Petunia is,” Damien replied.
“What’s wrong with letting her see how fun magic can be?
They’re sisters—both our friends.”
He coaxed him gently, then leaned in closer to murmur in Remus’s ear:
“And… Remus, you don’t think Petunia doesn’t deserve to play with us, do you?
Just because she doesn’t know magic yet?
For such a shallow reason?”
Remus’s small face flushed red.
He hurried to protest in a whisper, “Of course I don’t mean that!
Petunia is Lily’s sister… Fine, I’ll go get it.
But we have to make sure Mum and Aunt Catherine don’t find out.”
Once Remus was persuaded, Damien strolled back to the shade of the tree.
Smiling at the two sisters, who were listening raptly to Severus describe the wizarding world, he asked,
“Interested in trying some wizard toys?”
The sisters, brimming with curiosity about magic, nodded eagerly.
Beside them, Severus frowned and asked, a bit doubtful.
“Play what?
Wizard’s Chess?”
Damien shook his head.
“I’ve got a set of silver Gobstones.”
Severus’s pale face scrunched up in distaste.
He muttered,
“Those things spray foul liquid all over your face.
That’s disgusting.”
Damien grinned at him, full of confidence.
“Not if you win.
Sev, you’re not scared, are you?”
At that, the tsundere little snake snapped his head up at once.
He immediately declared he would show the sisters how to play.
While Severus began carefully explaining the rules to them, Remus came pelting back, clutching a schoolbag, eyes shining.
Before he even reached the tree, his excited shout carried over:
“Good news!
Aunt Catherine and Mum aren’t home.
I packed the Gobstones and brought them!”
Under Damien’s direction, habitual loser Remus and the ever serious Severus sat opposite each other with the Gobstones between them.
Lily naturally took her place behind Severus, while Petunia sat next to Remus.
The two sisters watched the strange game with rapt attention.
Remus launched the first move.
With a light flick, his Gobstone shot forward and neatly knocked one of Severus’s stones out of the ring.
The very next second, the Gobstone gave a pathetic little sob and, to Lily’s startled gasp, sprayed a stream of vile-smelling liquid straight into Severus’s face.
But the future Head of Slytherin had his own particular style.
He calmly took Lily’s handkerchief, dabbed his face clean, and, without a moment’s hesitation, sent one of Remus’s stones flying out of bounds in return.
And so, under the eye of referee Damien—who was soon wincing and half-looking away—the two absolute beginners traded shots one after another.
Each lost stone meant another jet of reeking liquid, until both of their faces were thoroughly drenched.
Although Severus and Remus scrubbed at their cheeks in a panic, the thick stench still slowly spread through the air.
Lily, face slightly pale, was just barely managing to keep cheering Severus on.
Petunia, already fussy about cleanliness on her best days, simply couldn’t bear it any longer.
Without a word, she edged away one careful step at a time, putting as much distance between herself and Remus as she could, craning her neck as though she might find a pocket of fresh air somewhere.
When the long game finally ended, she turned to Damien and asked in a voice tinged with despair.
“Is magic such a smelly thing?”
Damien’s lips curled into a peculiar smile.
“For example,” he said mildly, “why do you think first-year young wizards are allowed to keep a toad as a pet?”
AN: