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When Harry met Ginny


Eleven-year-old Harry Potter hadn't the faintest idea what he was doing. He was standing alone on Platform 9 ¾, holding an owl's cage and wearing long, black, robes. His glasses were broken, and his hair was untidy. And as if that weren't enough, the lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead definitely set him apart from the other people on the platform.

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw a flash of flaming red hair in the crowd, darting madly about as if it were actually on fire. Not wanting to stare, Harry had turned to examine Hedwig, the snowy white owl that sat perched in the cage, when an ear-splitting scream made him jump ten feet in the air. Pushing his glasses back up his nose, Harry turned to see a mass of brilliant red hair to his right, a small, freckle-faced girl holding a wand and looking absolutely terrified.

Stifling a laugh, Harry adjusted Hedwig's cage beneath his arm, and made his way cautiously towards the young girl, who was surrounded by a sea of similar-looking freckled faces and wavy, red locks. "Is everything alright?" Harry asked politely; he was honestly worried for the girl's sanity, she still looked as if she were in shock. Until now, Harry hadn't noticed how she had been staring at him, her eyes wide, and her jaw dropped as if she had seen a ghost.

A short, plump, woman with wavy, red hair approached Harry, smiling warmly despite the fact that the girl whom Harry presumed to be her daughter, had probably just had a heart attack. "Yes, everything's fine dear, not to worry, not to worry!" The small girl gave a slight whimper of embarrassment, and disappeared behind two, tall boys with identical grins. "Oh, um, alright then, have a nice day!" Harry said brightly, turning on his heel to go. But the woman grabbed his arm and held him back. "Oh, nonsense, dear, you may stay with us now, I'd noticed you seemed a bit lost!" Harry nodded, blushing. "Yeah, yeah I was...Thank you, Mrs...?" The woman gave a tinkling laugh. "Oh, it's Weasley, dear, Mrs. Weasley!" Harry nodded, smiling. "Well, thank you, it's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Weasley."


Ten minutes later, Harry was dragging his trunk and owl cage onto the Hogwart's Express, followed by a tall, and lanky Weasley boy named Ron, who was Harry's age. In the past ten minutes they had known each other, Harry had made his first real friend, and it was a bit obvious to Harry that Ron didn't have that many, either. "So, asked Harry as they found and empty compartment, "That's your sister, the little red head girl, right?" Ron nodded. "Yeah, that's Ginny, she'll be at Hogwart's next year.... she's the youngest, and the only girl." Harry frowned. "Must be tough." Ron shrugged. "I dunno, I think she's used to it... but be ware, you'll have to look out for her next year, she's had a major crush on you since she was five."

Harry's eye's widened. "But she doesn't even know me!" Ron laughed. "Harry, everybody knows you!" Harry's heart sank. So this was what Hagrid had warned him about. Harry was the boy who lived. Everyone knew who he was. Harry wasn't sure if he liked that much. "Oh, yeah." Harry murmured. "I forgot about that." And ignoring the strange looks from Ron, Harry headed out into the aisle, searching for the candy trolley.
At the Burrow/One year later



Harry and Ron had become best friends over the past year at Hogwarts. Together, with help from Hermione Granger, of course, they had managed to save the Sorcerer's stone from Lord Voldemort, and Harry had survived death, yet narrowly, once again. Now, though, second year was starting in just twenty-four hours, and Harry, who had spent the last two weeks at the Burrow with Ron, planned on spending the next few hours playing Quidditch in the field.

Harry was feeling quite happy today, but at the same time, he felt a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. Today, Ginny was coming home after spending the past three weeks at a friend's house, and Harry was going to have to officially meet her. All year, Harry had heard from Ron how Ginny used to plan her wedding with Harry when she was little. What guy, in their right mind, wouldn't be scared of meeting a girl who did that?"

When the front door banged open ten minutes later, Harry jumped so high, he was surprised his head hadn't hit the ceiling. "False alarm." Ron whispered in his ear, and Harry let out a breath of relief, thankful that it wasn't Ginny who had just barged in through the door. Harry turned to Ron and sighed. "I dunno about this, Ron...I mean, you've been telling me about your sister for the past year, and she seems like a nice girl and all, but I'm kinda scared, you know what I mean?" Ron laughed. "Don't worry, Harry, Ginny's fine, you'll like her, you'll see." Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you mean she'll like me."

"Ginny, your home!" Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek like a banshee when Ginny stomped in half and hour later. Harry let out a moan, and tried desperately to hide behind Ron, who was sitting next to him on the sofa. Ginny smiled warmly as she hugged her mother. Mrs. Weasley was sobbing and crying as if one of her children had died. Harry heard Ron laugh behind his hands, and watched as Ginny made a disgusted face when her mother's tears mixed in with her hair.

"Okay, mum, I got it, you can let go now, your kind of smothering me." Sniffing loudly and anxiously patting her hair, Mrs. Weasley turned and bustled from the room, crying freely as she went. Rolling her eyes, Ginny marched purposefully into the living room, dragging her trunk behind her. She froze when she spotted Harry. Ron let out a shaky laugh that Harry could tell he had been trying to hold in. "Ahhh, uh....Hey, Ginny!" Ginny flashed her brother a weak, nervous smile, then rounded on Harry. He could feel her eyes boring holes in the back of his head.

Ron nudged him hard in the ribs, and hissed in his ear, "Harry, turn around!" Slowly, Harry lifted his head and turned to look at Ginny. He was surprised to see that her hair was no longer short and straight, but long and wavy. She looked more mature and much older than when Harry had seen her last year. "I, uh...Hi, Ginny." Harry felt his voice crack. Surprisingly, Ginny smiled. A big, bright, not at all a scary-stocker like smile. "Hi, Harry."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'll, uh...let you guys get to know each other, I gotta use the loo." And he jumped up and ran from the room, whispering, "Good luck, mate" in Harry's ear before exiting. Harry let out a breath and turned back to Ginny. "You...uh, you want help with that?" He asked her, pointing to her trunk. Ginny smiled, giggling slightly. "No, thank you, I think I've got it." Harry nodded quickly. "Okay, good, great...alright then, so I'll um, I guess I'll just, uh...see you later." He finished somewhat lamely. This time, Ginny did not attempt to hide her laughter. "Okay, I'll see you later then...nice meeting you, Harry."

That night, Harry couldn't sleep. His mind constantly kept traveling back to Ginny Weasley. Ron had been right; Harry did like her. Just not in the way Ron had been talking about. For an eleven year old, she had struck Harry has extremely grown up and beautiful. Harry sat up in his bed; well, actually, it was Bill's old bed, but Mrs. Weasley had assured Harry that he would be perfectly comfortable there.

When Harry woke at one-thirty to the sound of Ron's snoring, he climbed out of bed and trudged across the hall to the staircase. Well, that's what he was trying to do. In the darkness, Harry didn't realize that he had gone the wrong way by accident. Little did he know that when he tried to step down onto the first step, he was acctually getting ready to crash into Ginny Weasley, who was heading for the bathroom at that time. The impact of their collision, and the shock-especially for Harry, caused them to both shriek, and caused Harry to fly backwards over the staircase. Ooomph. Harry rolled all the way down the stairs, falling onto each landing with a loud thud. "Harry!" Ginny called out, racing quickly down the stairs as all of the lights upstairs were turned on. "Harry, are you alright?" Harry sat up slowly at the bottom of the stairs, brushed himself off, and adjusted his crooked glasses. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine, no problem."