Sorry that this took longer than usual, I realized how much homework I'd procrastinated on while churning out a chapter a day.
Thanks to everyone who commented saying that Ginny and Harry seem too old, I know you were trying to help, but trust me on this one. I'm thirteen, and if I can write about their thoughts, then they can think them. Also, Ginny and Harry are exceptionally bright 11 and 10 year olds, and, in Harry's case, wouldn't a boy who had been mistreated for so long be a little old for his age?
On another note, I've realized that I'm in desparate need of a beta, despite spell-check. If you are at all interested, please contact me!
**NEW** Argh! I totally forgot the most important part of this chapter! I've added it in now.
|
Friends, At Least? | ||||||
|
Category: Pre-OotP, When Ginny Met Harry Challenge (2007-1) Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Severus Snape Genres: Fluff, General Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 138 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... Hitcount: Story Total: 59883; Chapter Total: 7082 Author's Notes: |
Previous Next |
|
||||
|
Later that day, Ron and Harry headed out for the Quidditch pitch. Prior to Halloween, Harry had received an ultra-modern Nimbus Two Thousand. Ron had, of course, fallen in love with it and Harry had promised him a go on it. They both kicked off from the ground, Ron riding the Nimbus and Harry riding a school Cleansweep. Harry had managed to secure a Quaffle, and they tossed it back and forth. Harry was feeling wonderfully free as he zoomed through the clear blue sky and the wind swept through his hair. He was flying, he was free of the Dursleys, free of Flamel, free of Ginny. Harry entered a steep dive and called to Ron. “Time to switch brooms!” Ron also dived towards the grassy ground of the pitch. “Wow!” he said enthusiastically. “That broom is wicked!” Harry grinned. “Yeah, I know! It responds so well to your touch, and the balance is incredible!” Ron handed the Nimbus back to Harry. “Wish I could be on the Gryffindor team too.” Harry was always unsure about what to say to comments like this. “Erm, don’t worry, you can try out next year or something. You’d make a great Chaser!” They pushed off from the ground again, and Harry couldn’t help marveling in the superiority of his broom. He tried to throw the Quaffle halfway across the pitch to Ron, but failed by a long shot. He nudged his broom up to full speed, and dived for the ball. He grasped it when it had fallen to within mere feet of the ground. Ron cheered as Harry rose back up, Quaffle safely in hand. “Nice catch!” Harry grinned in reply. “One time Charlie made a save like that. We were playing in our back yard. Ginny just went crazy – she’s obsessed with Charlie.” The grin dropped off of Harry’s face. Ginny. Ron continued, heedless of Harry’s discomfort. “I think Charlie’s her favorite brother, or something. Gin and I never really saw him play Quidditch much because we weren’t at Hogwarts with him, so she didn’t know how good he is. ” Harry decided to ask Ron about his little sister, since he had the chance. “So, uh, does Ginny play with you often?” Ron shrugged. “Often enough, but we try to discourage her. She’s so young. “ Harry could barely suppress a grin. Ron was just a year older than Ginny. “I’ve heard about some pretty terrible tricks she’s played on you.” Ron grimaced. “Yeah, it was terrible the first time she tried her Bat-Bogey Hex on me. These huge, bat-things just came pouring out of nowhere! They were all over, and guess what? Turns out I’m allergic to bats!” He sighed. “So then I broke out in hives. There were rashes all over, even on my –” Ron broke off and turned crimson right up to the roots of his flaming hair. Harry laughed. “She sounds . . . entertaining.” Ron snorted. “That’s one way to put it.” Ginny wasn’t enjoying Egypt very much – she was too busy calling herself ten kinds of idiot. What had possessed her to presume that famous Harry Potter would spill his troubles to her? Why had she been so rude and so unthinking? Ginny heard her mum calling. It was time to see yet another pyramid. Ginny was getting a bit bored of musty old tombs, but she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t enjoy watching Bill decipher ancient runes, using their contents to break spells and open vaults and chambers that had been sealed for centuries. She loved watching Bill do spells – spells that did powerful magic, not just cooking and cleaning. She couldn’t wait to get her wand! But Ginny was too preoccupied with Harry to enjoy their eighth pyramid visit. Had he gotten her letter yet? It was Christmas Eve there in Egypt, though the chances of a white Christmas were zilch. She should send another letter – an apologetic letter to Harry. Lost in thought, she nearly tripped down an ancient set of stairs in the pyramid. Bill caught her just in time. “Watch out, Gin. It can be dangerous down here . . .” She nodded and tried to push Harry from her mind. Back at Bill’s apartment – it was crowded with her, Mum, Dad, and Bill, but manageable – Ginny was glad to see Percy’s owl, Hermes, perched on a chair. He was bearing Christmas presents from her brothers at Hogwarts, but his presence also meant that she could send Harry another letter without waiting for Errol to return. As soon as the parcels had been placed under the Christmas tree, Ginny offered Hermes a perch on her arm. She carried him to the sofa where she would be sleeping and respectfully asked him to wait while she wrote a letter. She went to Bill’s desk and borrowed a piece of parchment, ink, and a quill. Dear Harry, she wrote. I’m sorry for my earlier letter. I was shocked by what your letter seemed to suggest about your life with the Dursleys – not just mild discontentment, but real torture. I think I sort of lost my head. After all, why should you inform me of all your secrets? If you want, you can just forget that I ever sent that letter, and read this instead. Ginny nibbled the end of the quill. Now she supposed that she should just pretend that Harry was a normal boy, not mistreated at his . . . home, for lack of a better word. She dug his last letter out of her suitcase – she took all of his letters everywhere with her. Ignoring the incriminating paragraph, she looked at the contents of the letter that she could respond to. I wasn’t very surprised to learn that you never owned a Nundu – some of the stories in the Quibbler can get pretty outrageous. Ginny couldn’t bring herself to mention Harry’s Muggle family at all, not even Dumbledore’s reason for sending Harry to live with them. She decided to tell him about her trip to Egypt – it was pretty much the only interesting thing she had dome recently. After writing a few lines about Egypt, Ginny looked back at his question, “What was your most embarrassing moment?” She blushed, just thinking about it. She could not tell Harry about that! It happened last year, when she was nine. At that time she had harbored an enormous crush on Harry Potter even though she had never met him. Ginny had been in her room, writing love poems to Harry. Of course she would never send them, but it was still a romantic pastime. She had perfected her skills at drawing girly hearts, and was busy sketching a border for one of her favourite poems. Suddenly, the door burst open, and she fell backwards from her chair with a shriek, upsetting her ink bottle in the process. A dark purple splotch spread over the corner of her poem. Such an intrusion into her room could mean only one thing. “Fred! George! What are you doing here?!” They grinned. “Surprise, little sis! Just thought we’d check up on our favourite sister.” She snorted. “You mean your only sister. What’s the real reason?” She had a nasty feeling that there might be a prank involved – the twins loved to get revenge on her whenever she used the Bat-Bogey Hex. She had performed it on them just last week, and they hadn’t done anything – yet. George gave her an innocent smile and stepped to the side, out of her view. She turned all her attention onto him, even though it left Fred out of her sight. “There is no reason, just wanted to say ‘hi,’” said George. “Is that a crime?” Ginny gave him a suspicious look, then turned quickly to Fred, hoping to catch him by surprise. Was it her imagination, or was he a bit closer to her desk than before? He, too, grinned at her. “Yeah, is that a crime?” She shook her head, still wary. They left the room, and Ginny walked over to her desk. As far as she could tell, nothing had changed. Noticing her poem, she decided that the ink splotch had ruined the artwork. It was legible, but she decided to throw it out anyway – she had the poem memorized, so she could always make another copy. She tossed the poem in the waste paper bin. That week, it had been Fred and George’s turn to take out the rubbish. They had seemed a bit too eager to empty her bin, although she hadn’t really given it a second thought. But she thought about it the next morning when their purpose had become clear. It was breakfast, always a raucous event with six boys at the table. But even their noise stopped short when a loud bang came from backyard. Everyone froze for a second, then ran out to see what the commotion was. On the grounds lay the shriveled remains of a red envelope, still smoldering in the grass. A squeaky falsetto voice, magnified for a hundred times its normal volume, had begun to sing. Oh, glorious, magnificent Harry Potter, His green eyes are clear, unlike murky water. His hair is so black, blacker than darkest night, He saved us all when Dark Lord he did fight. But his most noble soul tops all this combined, Such a kind, loving spirit you never will find. I love him, I do, my hero, my love. There’s no one that’s like him on Earth or above. There had been a shocked silence, until the squeaky voice added, “By Ginevra M. Weasley.” Then the entire family had burst out laughing – Ron and Charlie fell to the ground, howling with mirth. Ginny was mortified. Her poem, her private poem, had been taken from her rubbish bin and made into a Howler! The whole family was laughing at her love poem. Except for Mrs. Weasley. “Ginevra Molly Weasley! Did you write that poem?” There was nothing to do but lie. “No, of course not, Mum! Why would I do a thing like that?” Ginny tried to put just a touch of shocked outrage in her voice to compliment the sweet innocence. “It was all Fred and George, I promise! It’s just another one of their horrid tricks!” And she stomped back in the house, shooting the twins an if-looks-could-kill glance. Once she was inside, Ginny had peeked out the window in time to see her mum turn her fury to Fred and George. Even so, Ginny knew that this was one prank she could never forget. But she wanted to be honest with Harry in her letters – she wanted to get him to trust her. What could she do? Lie. She couldn’t help it – there was no way that she was sharing that particular memory with Harry. Maybe some time in the future . . . far in the future. Ginny wrote a brief paragraph involving a different trick of Fred and George’s involving Canary Cream Puffs, then pondered what else to write. She supposed it was only fair that Harry tell her his most embarrassing moment, though she didn’t like pressing him for information just now. Still, she added that question to the bottom of the page. Ginny looked at Harry's final question, about Nicholas Flamel. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t think of where she'd heard it before. Pondering, she grabbed a Chocolate Frog from the pile she'd received for Christmas. Ginny had taken to collecting cards for Ron's deck, so she instinctively checked the wizard on the card. Dumbledore. Ron had six of him, no use in sending him another. As she placed the card on her bedside table, one word caught her attention. Flamel. Eagerly, she read the description on the card. Dumbledore had worked with Flamel! Now she could tell Harry! Maybe this would make up for the abysmal behavior in her earlier letter. She scribbled down a paragraph at the end of her letter, explaining about the Chocolate Frog card, then signed and sealed the letter. She tied up the scroll, then attached the card for good measure. Ginny stood and walked over to Hermes, who was dozing gently on the back of the sofa. She stroked him on the head to wake him up, then tied the letter to his leg and sent the owl on his way. She couldn’t help comparing the drab, brown owl to Hedwig’s glorious white plumage. Ginny sighed. One innocent question about Harry’s past had caused more problems than she could have ever guessed. But she had solved the mystery of her past . . . or at least started to. No, she told herself firmly. You gave up on that! You promised yourself that you’re not going to keep bugging Harry Potter about the Muggles! Ginny knew that her promise would be very hard to keep. |
| Reviews 138 |
Previous Next
|
