Friends, At Least? by werekitten
Summary: ** Honorable Mention (tie) in the When Ginny Met Harry Challenge **
Ginny Weasley is disappointed by her first view of Harry Potter, but quickly realizes that she is more than ready to forgive. She starts a pen-pal correspondence in hopes of becoming friends with Harry, and then perhaps more...
Rating: PG
Categories: Pre-OotP, When Ginny Met Harry Challenge (2007-1)
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2007.02.01
Updated: 2007.02.28
Friends, At Least? by werekitten
Chapter 1: Chapter 1: My Love?
Author's Notes: Harry Potter. She had met Harry Potter. Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the legend, the hero – and she, Ginny, had met him; had watched him ask for directions.
It was . . . a letdown.
All her life she had cherished dreams of a strong, handsome youth with an aura of power. To find a scrawny, clumsy boy when she had expected, well, a champion – it was the biggest disappointment.
When Fred and George had bragged about how they had helped a celebrity load his luggage, she found it hard to be envious. After all, that little titch probably couldn’t lift a wand, let alone a trunk.
They had run up to her from the train. "Mum, Gin! Guess what!"
She was sure that the news would be about Lee Jordan's tarantula, or something equally uninteresting.
"Remember that little squirt who asked you for directions to the platform?"
Mrs. Weasley had sighed. "Yes, of course, he was so polite. I wonder who his parents are."
The twins had exchanged identical grins. "We know! He was Harry Potter! Scar and everything!"
Mrs. Weasley gave a little tsk, tsk of sympathy. "That explains more than it doesn't. Poor lad, to loose his parents so young –" Her manner changed as she overheard Fred and George discussing how Harry had defeated Voldemort. "I don't want any of you bugging him about that! He must have enough on his mind already, without a load of kids asking if he's sure he doesn't remember what You-Know-Who looks like."
Fred and George had rolled their eyes, given Mum a peck on each cheek and Ginny a clap on the back, and headed back to the train.
Ginny just hadn't believed it. There was no way that an underfed, albeit polite, boy was the Harry Potter. And though Ginny had once harbored dreams of fondness and devotion from Harry, she flung them to the winds.
Or so she thought.
Ginny closed her eyes that night thinking of a year hence when she would be sleeping in a grand four-poster bed at Hogwarts, hopefully in Gryffindor Tower with friendly girls surrounding her. She was ready to drop off to sleep when an image popped unbidden in front of her eyes: a face, staring out of the window as the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station – a face with startling, almond-shaped green eyes and black hair that stuck up in the back – a face that looked lost; confused.
She sighed. Dreams died so hard, and Harry Potter was a dream that she invented years ago on her father’s knee, hearing stories of the miraculous boy who defeated the Dark Lord. Those green eyes, that adorable nose, the striking scar – no, she hadn’t forgotten Harry yet.
Harry Potter must be more than he seemed; that was the only explanation. But she would have to find out how . . .
Ginny was amazed. Ron, her pleasant, although rather stupid and insensitive brother, was best friends with her crush; with Harry. She sat at the dinner table in shock, watching while her mother read the latest news from her lucky brothers at Hogwarts. Percy was enjoying being a prefect. Fred and George assured Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that they were being innocent angels. Ron, well, Ron was having a grand time, hanging out with Harry Potter. They had had a run-in with a mountain troll, and had come out on top!
She didn't mind Harry now, of that she was sure. So brave, to tackle a troll, and so caring, to do it all for someone else, who happened to be a first year Gryffindor girl named Hermione. What a noble soul!
Could Harry have something in him that she didn't see from the outside? Of course, didn't everyone? And she had sensed something else . . . something was wrong with Harry's past. She knew that he had been raised by Muggles, but there was more to it than that. She had sensed some loneliness in the skinny boy who was lost at the train station. Why was it that there was no one to kiss him goodbye as he boarded the train? Something was certainly odd.
She would write to him; she had to. Her powerful sense of curiosity was driving her to learn about Harry. Ginny wasn't even sure that he knew she existed, and she couldn’t bear that.
Ginny hurried to her tiny, but moderately private room. She took out a piece of special pink parchment from a stationary kit that had been a present from her brother Bill on her last birthday. Uncorking her favorite purple ink, she dipped her quill in the dark liquid.
Dear Harry, she wrote.
You may not remember me, but I am Ginny Weasley, little sister to Ron. I met you at platform nine and three-quarters and I heard about your adventure with the troll. All this has only confirmed what I have though since I was little . . . you are a hero.
She re-read what she had written. She pictured a cozy common room somewhere at Hogwarts, and Errol the owl tapping on the window. Harry would be diligently reading a book, running his fingers through that thick, black hair. Ron would be sitting next to him, looking bored, as usual. Both would look up at the owl’s tap, and Harry would put aside his book and rush to the window. He’d open it to admit Errol and untie Ginny’s pretty pink letter. She pictured the look of shock on his face and then . . . well, she didn’t quite know. He’d lean over and share it with Ron, and she knew what her brother’s reaction would be. Laughter. And then Harry would laugh, as good friends laugh together, and he’d never take her seriously again.
Knowing the result, she simply couldn’t send this letter.
Looking back at her last sentence, she realized that her words didn't portray her feelings at all. Anyone who read the letter would think that she was the sort to hero-worship the star of the day. That was so not Ginny Weasley.
Thinking it over, Ginny decided to start small: just a friendly, “I'm-Ginny-who-are-you” letter. She could do it, she knew. She’d always had an intuitive sense of other’s feelings, so she was sure that she and Harry would become friends. And then . . . hmm. Ginny smiled.
This time with normal ink and plain paper, Ginny started a new letter.
Dear Harry, she began again.
I’m Ginny Weasley, Ron’s little sister. I met you at the train station, and I’ve heard all about you from Ron. I think it’s just amazing how you defeated the Dark Lord, but I’m sure that you’re sick of people talking about that. No, you just seem like a nice guy, and I want to get to know you a little better...
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