A/N: I was inspired by a photograph, a movie and a book. This is most definitely an Alternate Universe, and you'll see why shortly during the first chapter. For now, enjoy and tell me what you all think please (in a review), because I personally think this is my best idea yet… janepotter22

When Harry Met Ginny – Prologue and Chapter One

Prologue: The Wedding Night

I always knew this day would come, and yet that foreknowledge has assuaged neither the excitement I felt, nor how much I looked forward to it. Since I can remember I loved Ginny Weasley (now Potter). And now, in this very moment, I'd never loved her more.

Presently, in our new master bedroom in our new home, Ginny slumbered deeply, ensconced in all the satin bedthings. The creamy flesh of her thighs and legs were exposed to the open, still slightly parted from tonight's earlier activities (and which are quite common among newlyweds their first night of marriage). Her ginger hair had fallen from its many pins to land in soft, wide cursl on her nape and shoulders. As her breath left her in slow, pure wisps, I stared at her, thinking back to what started this all – the romance between us that resulted in our marriage.

As my mind delved farther and farther back in time, I realized that I'd been with Ginny since… since I could remember. I supposed the true beginning to this union between us was the moment we met. I became forever hers when she smiled and asked if she could play with Ron and me. Likewise, she'd had eyes for no other boy from the instant she saw me arrive at the Burrow…

Chapter One: When Harry Met Ginny

It was a particularly warm September Saturday afternoon, the day that Ronald Weasley decided he could trust me to visit his home. Ron and I met exactly a week before, outside Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor.

My godfather had a whole week with me all to himself after my mother had just remarried and left with my new stepfather, and so he took me to Diagon Alley on our last day out, where we spent most of the time looking at broomsticks in Quality Quidditch 

Supplies. There, he'd bought me my second ever broomstick. This on was very much like the real thing, except that I could only go as high as eight feet, whereas the one I had as a baby and toddler hovered only a foot or two. He also bought himself a broom-servicing kit for his own broom. After we finished at Quality Quidditch Supplies, we ate lunch at the Leaky Cauldron and then had a treat at Fortescue's. That's when I met Ron Weasley.

Ron was sitting on a chair with his feet dangling over the edge, licking at a chocolate cone (his face covered in the fudge topping), when Sirius and I exited the shopt to snack outside. I also had a chocolat cone in my hand. I asked Sirius if I could sit with the boy and he was alright with that, so I crossed over to his table, cone in one hand, my boxed broom in the other. When I sat across from him, he at first seemed very surprised that I would sit next to him, and he turned a little red with embarrassment.

"Hello," I said. "I see you've got a chocolate cone." I then rested my cone-occupied and in the middle of the table to show him that we had something in common. "Well, so have I. Are you fond of chocolate?"

For a moment, Ron was speechless and then he nodded. "I love chocolate," he said. And thus, the beginning of our friendship. "What's that?" he asked, nodding in the direction of my broomstick. I told him what is was and his eyes lit up with excitement, and then the excitement was lost, replaced with jealousy and longing. "Wish I could have my own," he said sullenly. "But all I ever get is hand-me-downs."

"Why's that?" I asked, feeling sorry for him.

"I have five older brothers, that's why. Bill and Charlie are at Hogwarts. And then Percy, Fred and George are still at home with me and my sister Ginny. I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley."

"I'm Harry Potter. And what's a sister?"

"A girl. Like a mum, only smaller and younger."

At that moment, a woman appeared. She ws short and plump with red hair just like Ron's. She wore a sundress with a knit cardigan over it and she had shopping bags hanging from her arms. "Oh, there you are Ronald!" she said as she approached our table. "Oh! And who might this—" She took one look at me and stopped talking. Her gaze then roved around the parlor's outside dining, finally resting on my godfather. "Sirius Black?" she said in a voice an octave higher than before. "Is that you?"

I looked over at Sirius and saw that he was pleasantly surprised. "Molly! Molly Weasley, why I haven't seen you since – Well, how have you been?"

"Been well, been well. What brings you here?"



"Lily is off on her honeymoon," said Sirius, with just a hint of bitterness that I often noticed he used in reference to my new stepfather in any way. Molly Weasley caught the underlined bitter tone and changed the subject at once.

"Well, I'm just spending the day with the boys, Merlin help me I can't find the other three, and Arthur's with Ginny. In fact, I was just about to get Ronnie here to help me find the others…"

I turned to my new friend when I heard this bit of information, who likewise looked back at me. We were thinking the same thing.

"Seems that your folks know my folks," said Ron with a smile on his face. "How about we go and play at each others' houses? I'd love to get away from mine for a day."

"That would be fun," I agreed. "I'll ask Sirius."

"You're allowed to call your dad by his first name?"

"What? Oh, no, that's my godfather. My dad died when I was a baby."

Ron didn't seem to know what to make of this information, so he just said, "Oh." We were both quiet until the end of the adults' short conversation and then we dove straight in for the kill. "Mum, can I go to Harry's to play?" asked Ron, while I simultaneously asked permission of my godfather if we could play at his house.

"Well…," said Sirius slowly, looking at Mrs. Weasley as he did so. "I don't have a problem with that. Grimmauld Place is right here in London, Molly. I could Floo him back over to the Burrow when they've had their fun. If this is all alright with you that is." A smirk was slowly playing across Sirius's lips as he gauged Mrs. Weasley's expression, which seemed to crescendo as Sirius went on talking. Her expression was one of delight.

"Oh, of course I don't mind!" Mrs. Weasley prattled on about how Ronnie doesn't know any children like him that he can socialize with, considering they lived in the country, and how she wouldn't mind in the slightest if we were to become playmates. Afterward, she smiled down at me. Her smile was warm and kind and she reminded me of my mother. Warm and loving and familiar. I instantly liked Mrs. Weasley.

As Ron's mother said her goodbye's to her son and told Sirius that dinner was at eight to have Ron home by then, I grew excited. Ron was antsy as well, bouncing on his feet and telling his mum to hurry up so he could co have funalready. It was one of the best feelings in the world, that. I finally had a friend; I didn't have any siblings and there hadn't been children (of magical descent) since the Dumbledores (whoever they were) were children attending Hogwarts. Before Ron and I became friends, my days at home 

were for strictly home schooling or visiting my dad's two best friends and Grimmauld Place.

In the first week that Ron and I were friends, my schedule changed dramatically. We spent practically everyday together. When my mum returned from her honeymoon, we had to help move the rest of my stepfather's things from his home on Spinner's End to our home in Godric's Hollow (only we didn't really help). So my mum had no time to teach me anything that week anyway. And whenever Ron visited, he got to sit with me on the sidelines, watching the adults move things magically and we got to play in my room or take turns riding my new broom. We spent more time over at Grimmauld Place, though, with Sirius, which was much less boring. It was the best week I'd ever had, and on that Friday, it got even better.

I asked Ron, "When can I go over your house?" We were at Godric's Hollow that day, and we'd just finished a lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with pumpking juice that Mum had prepared. Ron was quiet for a whole minute, thinking it over and finishing his pumpkin juice.

"I s'pose you could come over tomorrow," he said with a nod. We could ride a real broom if you like, because there's enough room just beyond the orchard."

"What's an orchard?" I asked him.

"It's a bunch of trees with apples on them," he said. "Anyway, there's a pond and everything, but it's too cold to swim in it nowadays. But there's all this land and the Muggles won't be able to see us because of all the trees…"

And so it was set. Almost, anyway. I just had to ask Mum, but I was sure she wouldn't mind: She mirrored Mrs. Weasley's feelings that I needed to interact with other magical children my age. Before Ron left, we asked her if it was alright, and she said it was, that she could go and visit Sev at the school. Shortly after that, Ron was picked up by his mother via Floo, and I spent the rest of my evening wondering and feeling excited about tomorrow.

When Saturday morning arrived I woke up far earlier than was usual, because I was so excited. I decided to wear what I did for my fifth birthday just two months previous, which consisted of a Chudley Cannons shirt that was mostly orange and then khaki shorts and green socks with sandles. When I told Mum I was ready to go, she laughed and mussed my hair up, making it even more windswept and wild. She kneeled so that our faces were level, and she planted a kiss on my forehead.

"Oh, Harry," she said softly, sadly. "You are so like your father, more and more every day." She embraced me and when she pulled back, her eyes were shining.



"Mummy, what's wrong?" I asked.

She rubbed her eyes dry and said, "It's just that I haven't seen the Weasleys since your father died. It's a lot for Mummy to handle right now." I stood there in my mother's arms, at a loss for words. I didn't really remember my father, but I knew that he was a sensitive subject with my mother. Even then, when she was happily remarried to the Hogwarts Potions Master, she seldom thought or spoke about him. In fact, this was the most she'd spoken about him to me at the time.

"I hope you feel better," I said, hugger her face and patting her head. I never liked to see her upset.

"Thank you, Harry. You're such a sweet boy." Mum smiled and ruffled my hair once more before she stood and led me to the back door. She made sure I had my broom before she locked up to cottage with a wave of her wand. "Hold my hand tight, Harry. And don't let go of the broom."

Are we going to disperate, mummy?" I asked her excitedly. Mum looked down at me as she took my hand and squeezed it. She nodded as she closed her eyes and turned on the spot. As our bodies were squeezed through a tightly compressed hole, I lost my enthusiasm, afraid that we would be lost in the oblivion of Apparition. But just when my enthusiasm left me, I found myself on a dirt road that divided a sprawling field. About a quarter mile ahead, the road led to a tilted house and which seemed to be made up of rooms haphazardly stacked and magicked together (which it probably was). But I looked quite welcoming to me, and I wondered why Ron was putting off inviting me here.

Mum loosened her sweating grip on my hand and bent to my level once more. She checked every part of me to make sure she hadn't splinched me. When she I was all together, she let out a nervous breath and we resumed and journey to the Weasley home called the Burrow. We walked quietly, with nothing but the crunching of the rocks and dirt beneath our feet. Then I saw Mrs. Weasley's familiar face look from behind a curtain in a ground lever window, and few seconds later, just as we approached it, she opened the front door to us.

"Oh, Lily!" she said, embracing my mother in a motherly hug. "How have you been getting along my dear? Sirius told me – when I met little Harry, here (oh, he looks so much like James!)—that you were on your honeymoon!"

"Molly it's so good to see you again. And I have indeed remarried." Mum put out her hand for Mrs. Weasley to examine. "My new last name is Snape. Sev is a teacher at Hogwarts – the Potrions Master in fact. I'm actually off to visit him at the school today, to see how he's getting along with his giant workload…"



Well, Ron's in the kitchen, finishing off his breakfast, if you'd like to go sit with him, Harry."

That was my cue to leave. I recognized her tone to be the one my mum used whenever Sev, well, my stepdad and she were getting cozy, and she told me to go off to my room to play. I thanked Mrs. Weasley and made my way through the door. Mum told me she loved me and that she'd be back before sundown. The smells of bacon, eggs, hotcakes and toast wafted my way. And then I saw Ron walking from the kitchen toward me.

"Glad you could make it," he said, whilst leading me to the stairs. "By the way, Mum said that I have to wait at least half and hour before we can ride the brooms, since I just ate breakfast and all."

"That's alright, I just at, too."

We climbed the stairs to arrive at the first landing. As he led me down the hall where there was a door at the end, he pointed to random doors. To the left was a closet, then Ginny's room and Ron's parents' room. On the right was a bathroom and then Bill Weasley's room. Behind the door at the end of the hall was another set of stairs hidden behind it, steep and spiraled. At the second landing, there was another, shorter hall with three doors – Charlie's and Percy's separate rooms and the bathroom they shared. At the end of the hall, there was no door that hid the next set of stairs that were steeper and more tightly coiled than the first. At this landing was an even shorter hall with only two doors – the twins' room and their bathroom. This time, there was no door nor any stairs at the end of the hall.

"Where's your room?" I asked him. I was slightly out of breath and very confused. Ron smiled at me and pointed to a trap door in the ceiling.

"In here," he said in a dramatic whisper. It was then that I just noticed the near-invisible string connected to the trap door, and dangling in front of Ron. Ron pulled it and stairs slowly lowered and folded out, as blooming flowers often do. He first climed the stairs, rather enthusiastically and I followed slowly. While I slowly made my ascension into Ron's room, I though about how cool this was, having an attic for a bedroom. And Ron's bedroom was cool.

Once we were standing beneath the low, slanted ceiling of his room, the stairs automatically folded into themselves and up. To my left, I saw a toy trunk and a round, diamond paned window with a settee. Yellow sunlight filtered through, brightening the room, whose walls were already yellow. Next to the settee was a small, oaken bookshelf with children's books and a few stuffed toys. The slanting ceiling that came over the settee was adorned with Quidditch posters and flags. To my right, I saw Ron's bed, with 

the orange Chudley Cannon's bedspread and pillows. At the foot of his bed was another trunk, the contents of which I didn't know. There was another, round window with the same diamond pane, and it overlooked the Burrow's wild garden.

Ron drank up my expression, grinning wider as my eyes grew fonder of his very cool room.

"So what do you want to do while we wait for thirty very boring minutes."

"What's in the trunk?" I asked him.

"Just clothes. I don't have a closet." I nodded and approached the window that overlooked the garden. I saw Mrs. Weasley enter it, tying a rather dirty apron around her waist as she made her was to the garden's center.

"What's in the garden?" I asked Ron.

"Oh," he said, rather uninterestedly. "Just garden gnomes." Our conversation went on like this for then entire thirty minutes and the anticipation to get on the brooms was palpable.

When Mrs. Weasley called us down at the end of the half hour, we howled with triumph as we ran into the garden. I followed Ron to the garden's end, where we were met by a field of grass. Fifty or so meters in front of us was a great oak tree, and then another, and another until the trees grew close enough together to be considered a small wood. At the first oak tree was a small and very old wooden shed and Ron threw its shabby door open in excitement.

Inside the shed were gardening tools such as shovel and hoses and pots and watering pots and plant food and such. Also, there were old enchanted broomsticks. Ron grabbed two (told me they were Cleansweeps) and we turned abruptly around to race to the orchard. The orchard was, in fact, not too far into the little wood that marked the safe point for broom-flying. There was a small, oval meadow inside the orchard that was half the size of a Quidditch field, and the grass was littered with wildflowers and other, taller grasses.

Ron and I flew around and around for about ten minutes and then we figured we were good enough to start tossing apples back and forth of each other. We landed and ran the edge of the meadow to where the tree line resumed in order to pluck the ripening apples. I remember clearly how red and firm they were, how juicy they must've been.

When we finally got a few apples plucked, we were thoroughly distracted and all of a sudden a wide-eyed, pudgy girl with chocolate cake in her hand and the broomstick Sirius had gotten me in the other was standing in front of me. We were the same height. 

She and Ron shared the same color of hair while she and her mother shared the same eye shape and eye color. I shouted, for she had startled me, and I jumped back a little distance.

"Can I play with you?" she asked in polite and small voice.

I could only stare, my mouth agape. This girl had the audacity to hold chocolate cake (icing side down) in her hands with chocolate frosting meshed between her fingers. She was barefoot and her yellow floral child-sized sundress was hanging off her left shoulder. Freckles were scattered about her nose and face and arms and even her toes and I found her to be to most beautiful, captivating creature. A flower couldn't compare. Nor the bestest, fastest, sleeking broomstick in the world. Nor the warmest butterbeer. Nor the joy and freedom and feeling of being light-weight as I rode a broom higher and higher, faster and faster...

That was when I met Ginny Weasley.