Disclaimer These characters are not mine.

Writing to Harry

Borrowing the Owl

"Luna, may I borrow your owl?"

"Oh do you want to send a letter to Celestina Warbeck protesting the chords killing thrumblesnappers in her new album?"

Ginny was too anxious to really react to her neighbor's question.

With all her brothers at Hogwarts, Ginny found the Burrow rather lonely, a novel experience. Her mother, for whom every problem had an immediate remedy, had sent her to visit Luna. It was too good an opportunity.

"I want to send a letter but if I use Errol …" Ginny's voice trailed off. She wasn't sure she wanted to confide everything in Luna. Writing Harry Potter a letter was too important and she wanted to keep it a secret from everyone – Luna as well as her brothers.

I want to go to Hogwarts too.

"But Harry Potter saved us.

"Yes, Ginny." Arthur Weasley said "but if you don't clean up your room, nothing will save you from your Mother."

Ginny laughed and looked up at her father imploringly.

"Can't I go to Hogwarts with Ron?"

"If you don't clean up your room, you won't even be able to go to Kings Cross with us tomorrow."

Who would send a letter to Harry?

Ron rolled his eyes as a few seats down Hermione Granger expounded on the benefits of reviewing homework once again before class to a sleepy Neville.

"Mental that one."

He watched as she broke her lecture to ask his brother Percy a question. Percy opened his mouth to answer but began barking madly instead. Fred and George laughed hysterically from their end of the table.

The owl swooping over his head dropping a letter that just missed Harry's plate stopped his chuckles. Harry picked up the letter curiously. Ron was about to ask him who it was from when the annoying bushy-haired girl once again distracted him.

"We better go Neville before we're late. I've read in Hogwarts a History that Transfiguration is one of the most important subjects."

As students slowly began to exit the Great Hall, Ron made sure to sit for just long enough to show the bossy first year that he would do just as he liked. By the time his little rebellion turned just dangerous enough that he and Harry would have to run to class, he had forgotten all about Harry's letter.

She didn't want an autograph.

Watching Luna's owl wing it's way towards Scotland and the castle where hopefully her brothers were not really trying to liberate a toilet seat, although she would love to see her mother's face at a toilet seat being dropped on her kitchen table, Ginny felt torn between pride at a plan well executed and anxiety. What if he thought her rude? Yesterday, when she had begged her mum for one more glimpse of the boy she had learned was her favorite hero, her mother believed Ginny just wanted to bother him for an autograph or pester him with personal questions.

Ginny sighed. She didn't want an autograph. If she thought that an autograph would be her only link with that boy, and oh she never would have imagined him so small and alone, she would never have written a letter. True, Harry Potter was the hero of her favorite bedtime story, because he was real and even though she lived and breathed magic, the idea of the boy-who-lived, the boy who defeated Evil, gave her the confidence that one day she would also do things, maybe breaking curses for Gringotts like Bill or becoming an Auror. And ever since yesterday, since she had looked into a pair of green eyes, Ginny imagined herself holding hands with a certain dark haired boy ready to do great things together.

She had to write him. Racing after the Hogwarts Express, crying even as she laughed at the exhilaration of running, Ginny knew she needed to do something, so that even though she was being left behind she would not be forgotten. Because she had seen the excitement in Harry's green eyes and knew he saw Hogwarts as a great adventure. How many adventures before she would find it impossible to catch up, to understand?

It's Not Just Because You're Famous

That night, curtains drawn tight, Harry reread his letter.

Dear Harry,

Don't get angry for me writing that and please don't show Ron and especially not Fred and George but how else should I start this. It would be kind of funny to write To Mr. Potter.

My name is Ginny Weasley. I don't know if you remember me from yesterday. You asked my mother how to get to the platform.

Percy wrote that you and Ron had been sorted into Gryffindor. He's the only one who's written me so far. I thought Ron would and Fred and George might have sent something even if they couldn't get a toilet seat.

Was the sorting ceremony horrible? Fred always said he had to wrestle a troll but I don't see how that would work. Besides, Fred and George would be more likely to prank the troll.

I suppose you're wondering what any of this has to do with you. You might be thinking I should be writing Percy, or the twins, or Ron. Maybe you think I'm only writing you because you're Harry Potter.

Well of course you're Harry Potter and of course part of why I'm writing is to tell you how glad I am you saved us all – but it's not just because you're famous. Mum reads every Celestina Warbeck interview in Witch Weekly and has all of Gilderoy Lockheart's books- she even entered a sweepstakes once trying to win his calendar. This is not like that. Really. I just want to get to know you.

I have so many questions. You must be very lucky to get to go to Kings Cross Station alone. Do your guardians give you a lot of freedom? Do you really live with muggles? Everyone in my family treats me like a baby even though I am not. I suppose if you've defeated You-Know-Who, nothing at the station would have a chance. I don't know if that applies to Fred and George though. I'm sure one of these days they'll try to prank Dumbledore. They say Filch hates them more than anyone.

Well, I better stop writing as I haven't decided how I'm going to send this letter yet. I hope you're not angry and please, please write back.

Hopefully your friend,

Ginny

Harry supposed he ought to write back. He didn't want to be rude to Ron's sister even if Ron hadn't mentioned her much. It was so strange getting a letter. Hogwarts was filled with things he'd never heard of and this girl rattled on and on about people and things – he supposed he could ask Ron but then he'd have to explain the letter.

He remembered the small girl crying and laughing as she ran after the train. He had heard her that day, wanting to see him. He had been so embarrassed, what with the twins staring; he had hidden out of the way when Fred and George talked about him to Mrs. Weasley. Thank goodness Ron didn't care much. Although Ron had certainly asked about the scar until Harry reminded him that whatever had happened when he was a baby, he didn't know any spells. For the most part, Ron seemed to be right and growing up without magic hadn't left him behind.

And she thought the Dursley's considered him responsible and gave him freedom to do what he liked. Harry made a face. Ginny was Ron's sister so she probably was nice. All the Weasleys seemed to be fun and outgoing and curious. Not gits like Malfoy. So he would have to answer her letter and hope she meant what she said about not writing just because he was famous. He really didn't need any more of that.

As a distraction

In spite of his decision to write back, Harry forgot about Ginny's letter until he received Hagrid's invitation to tea. Hagrid's letter reminded him about the earlier one. He didn't have a chance to write until that evening. By that time, Harry, insulted by Snape's constant sarcastic mention of him as a celebrity, did not feel much like writing a girl who had asked so many questions and seemed to protest so much that she wasn't a fan. Besides, thoughts of the Gringott's robbery kept distracting him. Only Harry's determination to be polite, she had begged him to write back after all, caused him to get out his quill.

Dear Ginny,

I do remember you. It was really nice of your mother to show me how to get to the platform. I hope I remembered to thank her.

I don't know what else your brothers have written you, but Fred and George must love living dangerously if they try to get on Filch's bad side. Ron and I accidentally found ourselves outside the entrance to the forbidden third floor corridor our first morning here.

We didn't wrestle a troll. It sounds like I'm supposed to keep the Sorting Ceremony a secret so you'll just have to wait until next year to find out what happens.

I do live with muggles – my Aunt and Uncle. They don't really care much what I do. I think you're lucky to have a big family. Although I wish I could get rid of my cousin, Dudley.

I don't remember anything from when I was a baby.

Thanks for writing,

Harry

Maybe boys weren't good letter writers.

The letter she waited for came and it was, overall, a disappointment. Oh he said he remembered her and he answered her questions and thanked her for writing but…

Perhaps she had hoped for too much. Maybe boys weren't good letter writers. Oh Bill sent a letter and a present every few months and Charley would floo-call just when mum started to imagine him burnt to a crisp. Fred and George wrote only to brag about a glorious prank. And Ron, Ron had not yet written to her. Did she think Harry Potter would be like Percy who enjoyed writing long letters?

He just didn't seem to care – and why should he? And though every word was polite – Ginny rereading the letter over and over again worried that she had annoyed him.

So that was it. She would have to wait until next year. Just as well, she could hardly keep borrowing Luna's owl and if she sent Errol there would be so many questions.

If you don't have anything special to say

Eventually Ron wrote. Fred and George too. Harry it seemed had made the Quidditch team. He was the youngest seeker in a century breaking all the rules about first years and brooms. Ginny resolved to take Dad's broom for a practice fly again. She preferred to use one of the twins' brooms but she only got the chance during the summer.

Part of her wondered if she should write to Harry and congratulate him. In her room, she took out his letter to her, worn a bit thin near the folds.

Ron's next letter made up her mind. This one seemed longer than his usual fare. Trolls, bathrooms, Hermione Granger, and pronouncing wingardium leviosa correctly – all these details clued her in that both her brother and Harry had new friend, a girl, a smart girl who was suddenly helping them with everything. Ginny wished desperately and hopelessly that she and Ron were twins.

Quidditch Makes a Good Topic

He was surprised to get another letter. It was November and he was a bit worried about the upcoming quidditch match with Slytherin.

Dear Harry,

You told me there was no need to wrestle with trolls. Ha!

Anyway, I just wanted to congratulate you on making the Gryffindor team. The team has a long tradition of fantastic players (my brother Charlie who used to be a seeker and Fred and George will happily keep the bludgers away). So good luck and grind Slytherin's team into the dust because they know nothing about good sportsmanship. (Truly, watch out. Fred and George always talk about the Slytherin's cheating.)

Don't worry about saying hi to my brothers for me. I'm writing them too. The prats. But I do love them and miss them. It's strange being at home without them. I get so used to dungbombs and gobstones and I don't even mind much when Fred and George slip something from Zonkos into my pumpkin juice – although Percy is their favorite target. I can get them back though. Did you ever play pranks on anyone?

Here's a picture of all of us last summer. Ron keeps on trying to catch that chocolate frog. I think the twins put a hex on it. Bill's the one trying to push Charlie in the pond. It's just a typical Burrow picnic. If you watch closely you can see Fred and George dunk Percy's prefect badge in the water.

Ginny

Amazing

Dear Ginny,

Forget trolls. Quidditch is the most amazing game ever! I don't know about grinding Slytherin into the dust but we did win the game. I almost swallowed the snitch.

I've never really pranked anyone – well not on purpose. Before I knew about magic, strange things kept happening. My hair would grow back every time Aunt Petunia tried to hack it off and on Dudley's birthday at the zoo, he ended up falling into the snake habitat – I guess I made the glass disappear for a moment. My uncle and aunt were furious. They usually are.

Do things like that happen even when you grow up knowing about magic?

Harry

Joy

Ginny felt filled with joy. He had written back to her – more than that the question in his letter meant he wanted her to answer. Harry Potter was writing to her and wanted her to write back to him!

Trying not to be jealous

It was just a letter. Harry shook his head. The Weasley's were so wonderful. Mrs. Weasley had even knitted him a jumper. Ron was teaching him Wizard's chess. He almost felt like part of their family.

Harry clenched his fists remembering Malfoy's taunts.

But he was learning about his own family. Not much. Not enough. But he had his father's invisibility cloak and he had seen his mum and dad in the mirror.

It was just a letter. Harry tried very hard not to be jealous of Ron, tried hard not to wish Mrs. Weasley was his mum – especially after seeing his parents' faces. But Ginny, although Ron's sister, seemed to bring up all sorts of things that hurt – maybe because they were written and he couldn't help seeing them and dwelling on them. He didn't want to know about the time she tried to run away from the Burrow and how Mrs. Weasley stayed in Ginny's room the entire night when she trudged back from her hiding place. He had often wished to escape Privet Drive but he knew no one would ever sit by his bed, thankful he was back. There wasn't enough room in the cupboard.

Letters Sent and Unsent

Ginny tapped the quill against her lips. What should she write? She'd never really had a friend outside of family. Although she was friendlier with Luna, the girl remained a mystery and certainly the pattern of their interactions couldn't help her get closer to Harry.

She told him what was nearly her most embarrassing moment. She never did send the letter where she wrote about her favorite bed-time story, or letter where she wrote about why his friendship meant so much to her. Really, there were very few letters that she sent to Hogwarts although tons of parchment with Dear Harry scrawled across the top rested in her secret hiding place. She just didn't know what to write that would truly make her his friend.

Ron had won his place that first day on the Hogwarts Express and Hermione soon became special as well. Sometimes Ginny dreamed of that day on the platform, dreamed of herself running and Harry reaching out his hands, grabbing hold of her and bringing her through the window to where she longed to be.

When you want to know ask Fred and George

The feast was wonderful. Dumbledore awarded the final points and Harry grinned, thrilled to have helped his house win.

Fred and George slapped him on the back.

"It's too bad Ginny missed this." George said.

"Should we bring home a toilet seat after all?" Fred wondered.

"Or cook up a little surprise for her this summer?" George returned.

Harry turned towards the twins. "Would your sister really expect you to…"

Fred interrupted him "Oh she's smart enough to suspect us of anything and everything but that won't help her much."

"Or Perce. You know Fred, I think Percy needs a little more fun."

And then Ron nudged him and Harry decided he didn't really need to ask. He'd find out from Ginny in one of her letters.

A Habit

Everything was wonderful. Ginny had been there with Mrs. Weasley. She had pointed to him and said his name before her mom stopped her. He wondered if seeing Ginny at Kings Cross was going to be a habit and then laughed. For the next six years anyway, Ginny would be a fellow student.

It was hard saying goodbye to Ron and Hermione, to go back to the Dursley's contempt. He would have liked to say goodbye to Ginny too but he would wait for her letter. By that time he might have a story to tell her. After all, Dudley didn't know Harry wasn't allowed to do magic in the holidays.

If I Can't Confide in Harry…

Everything was wrong. He didn't write all summer. Even Ron was worried. And she kept on making a fool of herself, greeting him in her nightgown, running away, sticking her elbow in the butter. And that boy, Mr. Malfoy's son had been nasty to Harry and called her his girlfriend and none of that would be so bad – in fact she was proud to stick up for Harry and would be prouder yet to be his girlfriend – if the letters hadn't seemed to mean nothing to him, if she didn't seem to mean nothing.

She had grown used to writing her thoughts out. Even in those letters to Harry she never sent, thinking they were too personal, still it was comforting to talk to someone, to tell them all her dreams.

Back in her room, she poured out her cauldron full of books. She noticed the leather bound one immediately. Oh how wonderful, a diary. That would be perfect.