All the characters belong to J. K. Rowling and DC Comics. Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson created by Bill Finger and Jerry Robinson, Damian Wayne created by Grant Morrison. Nothing here belongs to me.

Chapter 1

TRAINRIDE TO HOGWARTS

Platform 9 ¾, Kings Cross, London, was an unusual place. In fact, mentioning its number would incredibly confuse any machinist or high-ranking official on the aforementioned station. But it would only be par for the course, after all, they were not the ones to ask.

Instead, you should be talking to the servicemen, or, even better, to the humble UK policemen that can still be found all over the place any time the number of travellers exceeds the station's capacity (hint: beginning of the school year will definitely do). And not the young ones either. But if you meet one of the older, more experienced ones, at the pub, and buy them a drink or five, and casually mention the platform, then maybe, just maybe they will tell you of this urban legend. Of a place, that some weirdos have been asking about for as long as the London police can remember, usually mentioned alongside other weirdos' places like Hogwarts and Hogsmead. Of crowds of people that seem to adore the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 every time it's time to send children to school. Some policemen even swear that they saw some people walk through this barrier! Not that anyone believed them – how can people walk through metal bars? And where would they go? Nonsense, of course, not worthy of attention of a proper Englishman.

And that's where they would be wrong. For Platform 9 ¾ has indeed existed as long as the station itself, and it indeed is located beyond the metal bar barrier that separates platforms 9 and 10. But only very few people can go through it. Wizards, people used to call them, before they became a legend even more obscure than the platform itself. But they are still among us, and some are even born in normal English families. Like the one, that on the quite fateful day of September 1, 1992 was trying to inconspicuously go to the barrier.

'I'm going to Hogwarts!'

'Quiet, Colin! Professor Sprout told you not to talk, and certainly not to scream about it!'

'Sorry, mom…'

A boy was… well, if one were to come up with a description, words nerdy and goofy would be atop of the list. But such expressions may not be specific enough, so let this boy instead be short, thin, blond, with a huge smile on his face and wide open brown eyes. His face was not handsome – although, to his defence, not a lot of boys are handsome at the age of eleven. He looked alright, just like many other boys all over Britain. He was wearing a woollen dark red sweater, for the autumn had already claimed its rights from dying summer, and a pair of jeans that had been obviously bought with an intention for him to grow into them. On his feet were worn, but obviously loved sneakers, and behind himself he was dragging a trunk. An actual wooden trunk, with two small wheels at the back. No wonder, that some people stared at the family, causing his mother a severe amount of distress.

The mother herself had the same blond hair, but her eyes were grey and they shone with pride when she looked at her sons. She wasn't particularly pretty and certainly not beautiful, but she obviously took care of herself, even though dark circles under her eyes were visible even through make-up. In her right hand she held a camera case, with a Polaroid camera inside, while in her left was another hand. The hand belonged to a dark-haired boy, a little smaller than the first one. The boy obediently walked alongside his mother, although he constantly looked around, taking in the impressive size of the station and magnificent, elegant shapes of locomotives. He looked astonished, but a little bit sad too.

Finally, through an elaborate set of manoeuvres, that would have tipped off any competent surveillance (had it been surveying them in the first place), family reached the barrier. The woman, looking (and, most likely, feeling) incredibly foolish, touched it with a tip of her fingers. For less than a second she felt a cold smoothness of metal, and then her hand went through, and she let out the breath she didn't even know she'd been holding. She quickly pulled her hand out, flashed a shining smile at her elder son and made a welcoming gesture, allowing him to go first into the world he now belonged to. Colin immediately sped up and practically rammed the barrier, immediately vanishing from sight. His mother and brother swiftly followed him, only to almost bump into his trunk – the boy froze at the edge of a platform full of people, with a distinguished-looking red-and-black train on the rails.

Colin slowly turned his wide open eyes to his mother, and she laughed before nodding.

'I'M GOING TO HOGWARTS!'

'Sorry, madam! So sorry! Sir, could you please let us pass?'

A big cigar-puffing man, with a gut that would make a whale jealous, looked around, chuckled and moved to the side, letting through a family of three. A bony old witch, that was accidentally pushed aside by the elder kid a moment ago, hummed under her nose something about "ignorant mudbloods", but kept the rest of her opinion to herself. As she thanked the man, Elisa Creevey also thanked God for small mercies – she had been shouted at today more, than in any other day in her life. It appeared to be, that witches and wizards were not entirely welcoming sort.

So, it took a while for them to shuffle through the crowd, but eventually they finally made it. Trying not to cry, she hugged her elder, kissed him on the top of his head and helped him load his trunk on the train. That is, tried to help him load his trunk on the train. Despite the combined forces of two middle-schoolers and a mailwoman, heavy standard issued Hogwarts trunk continued to stay earthbound.

'Hey, let me give it a shot!'

The help arrived from an unexpected angle – from behind Colin, who was currently trying to pull the trunk on the train, while Dennis and Elisa pushed it from the ground. A dark-haired man in his late twenties, dressed in all black, moved Colin aside and practically on his own dragged the trunk on the train, before jumping down on the platform.

'And that's how it's done!' proudly announced the stranger, after Colin placed the trunk back on the wheels. 'First time to Hogwarts?'

'Yes.' nodded Elisa with hesitation. 'Unfortunately our father was at work today…' The stranger nodded in understanding and she smiled, a little embarrassed. 'Thank you! I don't know how would I do this otherwise!'

'Don't bother,' waved it off the stranger. 'Us newbs have to stick together. I just put my younger brother in.'

He thought about something for a moment, and turned to Colin. 'Actually, he is in the third compartment, and there are free seats, if you want to.'

Colin uncertainly looked at his mom, who smiled and nodded, before handing Colin his camera. The boy grabbed it, put it on his neck and immediately rushed through the corridor, dragging the trunk behind him. The third compartment was easy to find, and soon enough Colin opened a wooden door with a blurry glass window in the middle of it, and stuck his lop-eared head inside.

The compartment was rather small – two benches and two shelves, one each at each side of the room, and a small table in the centre. The room was completely empty, except for a short – even shorter than Colin! – dark-haired boy, sitting near the window with a book in front of his face. The boy didn't acknowledge Colin's presence in any way, so Creevey, after a couple of seconds, cleared his throat and spoke, trying to sound like his mother minutes ago.

'Excuse me, can I sit here?'

'No.'

Boy's voice was cold and dismissive. Colin, though, completely ignored its tone and frowned in concern.

'But the guy on the platform said…'

'T-T.' The boy lifted his eyes from the book and turned to Creevey. 'The guy on the platform said…' he sing-sang with a mocking tone. 'What guy on the…'

Suddenly, the book closed with a thundering SNAP!, and the short boy stared in the distance for a second. 'Damn you, Grayson!'. The boy eyed Colin again, cringed like he just took a bite on a lemon and took a deep breath.

'I am sorry; you can sit here. I apologize for my previous behaviour. I have been very stressed lately, but from now on, I will try not to let it affect the others.'

'O-O-K.' uncertainly said Colin and quickly dragged his trunk in, before propping it near a bench and closing the door. When he looked back at his companion, the boy was already back to his book. The cover was in some alphabet Colin couldn't read, so instead he rushed to the window and tried to find mother and Dennis in the sea of people outside. He failed, and sat on the bench opposite to the weird boy, full of momentary disappointment. It didn't last, and soon he was squirming in his seat, eager for something to do. The other boy sat completely quietly and unmoving, except for an occasional turn of the page.

'You don't really want me here, do you?' finally asked Colin.

The boy closed the book and stared at him. His eyes were grey, but unlike Colin's mother's eyes, these were cold. Finally, the eyes closed, the boy took another deep breath and started speaking.

'My brother is under the illusion, that I have a lack of friends in my life. Thus, when it was time for me to leave here, he and Father made me promise, that I will try to be a better person while at school. And Grayson seems to think, that the train counts too. So, to answer your question – I do want you here, if only because I made a promise.'

Colin frowned. The condescending and off-putting tone made breaches even in his optimism and excitement, but Colin knew a thing or two about lacking friends himself.

'You don't have any friends, do you?', he asked quietly, emphasizing "any".

The boy started to answer, but then the train shook, whistled and started slowly moving, passing by the platform. Colin immediately hugged the window, and started waving at his mother, who noticed him and started waving back. The dark-haired stranger, whom his new companion called Grayson, was standing by her side, and waved at his brother too, with a smug, but genuine smile. Colin's neighbour stared at him for a moment, but then slammed his open palm to the window. A second later, the train finally passed the platform and started slowly gaining speed, moving through the city of London to the north.

Colin, embarrassed by his jumping around, climbed down from the table and sat back at the same place. His neighbour, though, looked completely unfazed.

'I have some friends. They are just…' the weird boy searched for a word for a second. 'away.'

'Mine are away too,' sighed Colin, 'At least I have my camera.' He popped the case open and pulled the Polaroid out. 'Want to have your picture taken?'

The boy looked at the camera uncertainly. 'Is it magic?'

Colin shook his head. 'Nah. It used to be my dad's, he let me take it with me to school. I want to take a picture with Harry Potter! Maybe he will even sign it…' he continued in dreamy voice.

'Harry Potter…' said the boy slowly.

'That's right!' happily agreed Colin. 'Did you know that he saved the whole Wizarding World as a child and defeated You-Know-Who? I have a whole book on him!'

The boy immediately perked up. 'You-Know-Who?'

'No…' wrinkled his brow in confusion Colin. 'Harry Potter! Why would I want a book on You-Know-Who?'

'Never mind,' sighed the boy. 'By the way, yes, I would like a picture.' He smiled and offered Colin a hand. 'Damian Wayne.'

Colin shook it. 'Colin Creevey.' He propped the camera to his eye and aimed it at the other boy.

Suddenly, the door to the compartment opened. Wayne turned around, raising his hands in some weird position, just as Colin's fingers slipped, clicking the camera's shutter. A small photocard popped out of the camera and slowly floated on the table, but both Colin and Damian were too busy watching the newcomers – two girls around their age. They didn't have their luggage, were already wearing the school robes, and seemed to sport a very worried look on their faces.

'Sorry…' said the taller one in embarrassment. 'We are looking for our friends – two second years, one with black hair, other one with red. They would have a white owl with them…' she ended rather lamely.

Colin shrugged and shook his head. Wayne closed his eyes, opened them and shook his head too. 'No. Moreover, I'm not sure they were even on the platform. Were they alone?'

'They were with me,' quickly said the other, shorter, girl. 'Me and my family.'

'I saw you,' nodded Wayne, closing his eyes in concentration. 'You and five other redheads entered the platform ten minutes before the train departed. No black-haired boy, though, and certainly no white owl.'

The girls looked at each other. 'Five…' whispered the smaller one in confusion, before her eyes widened in shock. 'They didn't cross the barrier!'

The other one nervously fixed her brown hair (that immediately returned to the same shape), nodded and looked at Wayne. 'Photographic memory?'

'Full eidetic,' corrected the boy with a hint of smugness in his voice.

'Alright…' the girl turned back to her companion. 'Ginny, get back to your compartment. I'll find Percy and we will see what to do next.'

'No,' Ginny stubbornly shook her head. 'I'm with you.'

'Fine.' The older girl sighed and turned to the boys. 'Thank you both. I'm Hermione, second year Gryffindor. Find me if you need anything.'

With that, she closed the door and ran down the corridor, the redhead at her side.

'That was… weird,' finally said Damian after a couple of seconds. Colin nodded and picked up the card. The Wayne on the image had his arms at his chest height, one in front of the other, with open palms towards the door. He looked almost relaxed, except for his eyes that were extremely focused. Colin stared at it for a second, shrugged and passed the card to the other boy, who accepted it with a quiet "Thanks."

'What's "eidetic"?' asked Colin, while Wayne was studying the picture with a small smile on his face.

'I remember everything I see, hear, smell or sense in any other way.' Damian opened his book and placed the photograph in-between the pages. 'I'll send it to Father, if you don't mind.'

'It's yours,' shrugged Colin. 'Wait. Everything?'

Wayne nodded. 'Absolutely. From the moment of my birth.'

Colin smirked. 'No wonder you are kind of a jerk…'

When he looked up, Wayne stared at him with a weird expression on his face. For a second Colin was afraid that the other boy was going to hit him, but then Wayne burst into loud laughter.

'I'm sorry…' he finally managed to say. 'Most people I know are used to me. I'll try not to be one, OK?'

'OK.' smiled Colin. He offered an open hand to Damian, 'Friends?'

Wayne grabbed it without hesitation. 'Friends. You already know in what House you are going be in?'

As the English countryside in the window was slowly replaced with Scottish landscapes, two eleven-year-old boys talked about Hogwarts, magic and wonders that were waiting for them. At some point Colin produced a deck of playing cards, but they were soon discarded in favour of the sweets that were being sold by a kind witch with a trolley. Neither of them noticed an invisible flying car that had been trailing the train, or how the car was approached by an equally invisible, thin, and remarkably Scottish woman on a broom. And boy, was she not it a good mood.

'Look! There, see? It must be Hogsmead!'

Colin had been attached to the window for the last fifteen minutes, after both boys had gotten tired of talking, trying to do magic (Wayne managed to levitate a chocolate frog wrap for a second or two, before somehow setting it on fire), and even eating. To be fair, chocolate frogs and Berty Botts All-Flavour Beans still amused Colin, but he didn't think his stomach could take much more, so he had pocketed the remaining packages with an intention to finish them later.

'Seems like it. We'd better change.' said Wayne, closing his book and reaching under his bench to retrieve his own trunk. It was slimmer than Colin's and looked to be made out of some dark wood, in contrast to usual oak, with a silver ornament on the lid. The boy popped the lid open and retrieved a small package, before closing the trunk and locking it down with an elaborate set of latches.

Colin, who had already retrieved his uniform from the side compartment of his own trunk and was currently putting it on, slightly rose his eyebrows. 'Where did you get this trunk? Me and my dad hadn't seen anything like it in Diagon Alley!'

'Same place I got my everything.' Damian pulled a set of folded robes out of the package. To Colin's surprise, they were a bit blacker than his own and seemed to slightly reflect the light. Wayne carelessly threw them on and continued, 'Mage's Emporium in New York.'

'You are American?', asked Colin, opening the door. Somehow, the matter of their place of origin never arose between the boys, even if they did talk about their families. For example, Colin knew that Damian's dad ran a family business.

'Yes.' eloquently as usual answered the other boy, pulling his wand from his trousers and placing it in his robe's waist pocket.

Colin nodded and looked out in the corridor. After four hours with Wayne, the fact that he was American was just yet another weirdness about his new friend, and Colin had better things to worry about. As far as he could see, other students started leaving their compartments too, but no one seemed to carry their luggage with them. He uncertainly looked at his own trunk and shrugged, before walking up to a closest senior student, who happened to be a tall boy with a red tie and a head full of braids.

'Excuse me, can you tell me what to do with the luggage?'

The boy looked down at him and smiled.

'First years?'

Colin nodded. Boy's smile a little bit widened.

'Well, you are supposed to send them to school.'

Colin wrinkled his eyebrow. Boy's eyes grew larger, as he pressed his hand to his heart.

'Oh, dear… Don't tell me you haven't bought a magic trunk!'

Colin shook his head, bewildered.

'Oh, no. Well, now you will have to drag it to the castle yourself,' boy sighed, 'and to think you could have been like me, and bought a living trunk…'

'Is it by any chance made out of wood from a sapient pear?' asked a girl's voice from behind the boy. The owner of the voice sounded curious, yet she also definitely was fighting a giggle.

'Crap…' whispered the braided boy before turning around with a huge smile on his face. 'Hi, Penelope, fancy meeting you here! I was helping this firstie, you know, doing my senior duty…'

The girl – much taller than the boy, with a head full of blonde hair and an extremely contagious smile – nodded alongside his words, and suddenly winked at Colin.

'Jordan?' sweetly asked the girl, when the owner of the living trunk stopped to gasp for air.

'Yes?' immediately answered the boy, slightly stepping back and bracing for impact.

'Disappear.' finished the girl in the same sweet voice.

The boy hastily nodded and complied, squeezing his body in-between Colin and the wall. Penelope followed him with a stern gaze, before looking at bewildered Colin and erupting with laughter.

'I'm sorry...' she started, but then snorted again. Finally, she took a deep breath and smiled at Colin. 'Penelope Clearwater, Prefect of Ravenclaw. That was Lee Jordan – our homegrown comedian. If he starts messing with you again – find Percy Weasley in Gryffindor, he is his Prefect and will set him straight. Got it?'

Colin nodded and unsurely smiled back. Penelope slightly ruffled his hair and started walking to the other side of the train, before clasping herself on the forehead and turning around. 'Oh, and you leave the trunk here, on the train. Hogwarts's elves will get it into your room after sorting.'

'Thanks!' shouted back Colin, before going back to his compartment. 'We leave the trunks here.' he said to Damian, who curtly nodded and turned to the window, studying the village of Hogsmead. The train was currently passing a hill, and thus the village could be seen in its entirety – three parallel streets and a couple of alleys, that seemed completely deserted this autumn evening. 'We will be there in five minutes or so.' he said quietly. Colin nodded back, even if his companion couldn't see it.

'Do you know anything about elves?' asked Colin, checking if he had everything he needed in his pockets.

Wayne looked to the sky for a second and shrugged. 'Tolkien, Salvatore…'

'No,' snorted Colin. 'Hogwarts's elves. Penelope said, that they will move our trunks to our rooms.'

Damian looked back to Colin and scratched his own head. 'Maybe... Didn't notice it back then, but I heard someone say something. Who's Penelope?'

'Prefect of Ravenclaw. She seemed nice.'

Wayne bit his lip for a second, before slowly nodding.

'Also, who's Salvatore?' asked Colin,

Wayne smirked before turning back to the window. 'I'll lend you a book.'

This story had been in my backburner for a long, long while. It slowly transformed from "Young Bruce in James Potter's year" to a "Robin (I think, I tried everyone) in Harry's year", to "Damian Wayne in Ginny's year". Chronologically, this story is set around a year and a half after his expulsion from Gotham Academy and around a year after his atonement journey and We Are Robin. I hope, this explains why Damian is less of a jerk.

The story this year is going to focus on basilisk and The Chamber of Secrets, but Colin and Damian will approach it from a different angle and without any meaningful interaction with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Same thing with Batfamily - asides from Dick's cameo in this chapter, you won't see them in long time.

Also, don't expect a lot of romance. This isn't going to be slash, and I'm a proud sailor on USS Waynoguchi, although currently for them it's just friendship. But even if I add any actual romance - this won't happen until at least OoTP.

This world doesn't have Superman, Green Lantern or any other heavy hitters, even though I love them all. Batman and other heroes are urban legends. Ra's al Ghul and his Lazarus Pits exist, though, and he was a major player in events of "Robin Rises", although Damian never had superpowers and Bruce has never been to Apokalypse. Overall, consider this story an Elseworld with a heavy influence of New52! and Rebirth.

Finally, this is more of a study project, for people to criticize my writing skills. I'll try to update weekly, but I'm in a tough situation right now and English is my second language, so I may lag behind. I'm sorry for inconvenience. Also, I accept all forms of criticism, especially considering my language skills - getting better in writing is my primary goal.