Important Author Note: I believe this to be a pretty unique narrative, so I feel it requires a little explanation. Fred and George are telling this AU story together. So, imagine them sitting on a plush sofa, a fire cackling behind them, dressed in their home-knit Weasley sweaters, alternating the narration of this story. I toyed with the idea of italics or bold letting distinguishing the two, but it made the writing dirty.

I also picture a mug of hot chocolate in their hands, which they spit out when their twin says something ludicrous. Enjoy!


It Happened Like This

Chapter One: First Impressions


Gather close that you might hear the great tale of how Ginny won over the unconquerable Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished! It all began when—

What? Fred you've gone insane! It wasn't Ginny that won over Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished who won her. Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, wooed her! Wooed her, I tell you!

Oh, my dear brother George. My sad, misguided, insane, once maimed, twice deflowered—

Thrice deflowered—

Right you are. Thrice deflowered, oft-constipated brother George.

Get to the point.

What was the point?

Never mind that. It is quite obvious I will need to tell this story—I don't think you have all the facts right.

I not have the facts right? An outrage, this is!

Where, Fred, did you get your facts? I challenge the authenticity of your series of events.

I may or may not have snuck a peek at our dear sister's diary—no not that Diary, though it makes an appearance in our story. And where did you get your facts?

It is possible, perhaps, that at some point, I may have gotten Sir Padfoot drunk…and it can't necessarily be disproven that I may have possibly taken slight advantage of the allegedly repeated visits to the not-necessarily-made-up pub and gotten details from the supposed godfather of the boy in question, and the Dark Arts professor of the girl in question.

You mean Defense Against the Dark Arts?

I've experienced it both ways.

I see. Well, Georgie…we may just have to tell this story together. Perhaps we'll get the truth behind the matter this way.

Right-o Fredie. So, where shall we start? The middle?

And then work our way slowly forward, interspersing it with flashbacks to better understand the present?

Assuming those flashbacks carry similar themes to the timeline we interrupt, I suppose this could work. Maybe include some tantalizing images of the future to foreshadow the—

—maybe we just start from the beginning, and move forward…

That would simplify things, yes.

So…where did her diary start? The first day Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, came to Hogwarts?

Oh…no no no. There is plenty of juicy action before that. And by action I mean a few relationships that didn't go super well, the occasional musings of a teenage girl over a Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, and the very important question of "who saved me from the Chamber?"

That was a good question, and most certainly ties in later. You see, as the drunken Sirius, Sir Padfoot, as we may call him—

We may indeed—

As Sir Padfoot proposed over a particularly potent potable, Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, often wondered that same question from the other side of the sickle. Who was the girl he saved from the Chamber?

Aha? He never saw her?

Apparently, a young, reborn Moldy-warts and a giant, death-by-sight-causing snake distracted him. And then Dumbledore showed up right as he killed the snake and disappeared with Ginny before Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, could see her.

Convenient…

Many things that old man did were.

Merlin, I miss his face.

Anyway, it was something Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, thought about on occasion while he and Sir Padfoot were off chasing Death Eaters and saving the world.

Which brings us to the beginning of our story, it does.

Right. Months after snake-face's ultimate demise. Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, was in his seventh year.

And Ginny just about to start her sixth. As I recall, her diary commented on how depressed she would be without us returning.

But we'd already been gone from Hogwarts for an entire year at that point.

Don't ruin my false memory of her musings, George!

Remind me again exactly how you are bringing anything reliable to the story, here?

Says the bloke who got all of his information from an inebriated drunk.

Sir Padfoot is not a drunk. He simply is drunk most of the time!

Right. So school was about to start again. Professor McGonagall was just starting her tenure as Headmistress, poor woman.

We thought we gave her a hard time…she was not prepared to take on Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, and Sir Padfoot both at the same time.

Ginny described his entrance as "epic."

Sir Padfoot coolly described it as "everyday."

Ginny said that they burst through the enchanted ceiling—which shouldn't even allow physical objects to pass through—riding a flying motorcycle and a hippogryph!

I said he described it coolly…

Anyway, Ginny was simultaneously turned on by his cocksure attitude and put off by his arrogance.

Girls with their conflicting emotions…it probably didn't help that he was Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, Savior of the world, and quite a hottie—her words, not mine.

Right…but his attitude made her guarded. Remember she had seen it before.

In the very man that Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, destroyed, saving the world.

Yes. And at this point, George, all eyes were on the pair of newcomers, who merely dismounted their respective mounts and bowed to the staff table.

Sir Padfoot tells me McGonagall looked able to "fry an egg on that face," so red hot it was.

I cannot confirm that, as Ginny merely spent a few pages describing the eyes of Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished. She was far too lost in them to observe her headmistress.

Well, assuming Ginny was too focused on Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, to hear the conversation, I'll clue you in on what was said between the Headmistress and the Savior and his Mentor.

"What in the BLOODY HELL do you think you are doing, arriving like that?" McGonagall erupted.

"Our arrival, Minnie, needed to match the arrivers in style."

"It is Professor McGonagall in front of the students, Sir Padfoot—"

Wait, she called him Sir Padfoot?

Of course not, I simply cannot call him something else.

Well, now who is taking away authenticity? If you're going to tell a story, you've got to get in the heads of your characters. So far, all of your characters just sound like you!

Alright, alright. "It is Professor McGonagall in front of the students…Professor Black." And she sighed!

Did she really? Or are you merely sighing at saying the words Professor Black?

Yea it's just me…

Well then it's a good thing Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, spoke next, because Ginny actually wrote about that. "Oh don't mind him," Harry said in a deliciously melodic voice that Ginny wished were directed at her.

Really?

That's called good story telling, right there.

Really?

I'm getting in her head, seeing the world how she would.

Really?

Harry continued, bowing apologetically to his new Headmistress. "He's just a little excited to be back at Hogwarts. As am I, really." Harry looked around the room, wonder in his gloriously green eyes. Ginny thought his gaze might have lingered on her just a little longer than it did anywhere else. It was either that, or time itself froze as their eyes met.

UGH! If that's what good story telling is, then I want none of it.

Fine, you go again, Ginny didn't describe anything else until he sat down near her anyway.

Alright, I'll catch you up then. After Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, placated poor Minnie, he waited his turn to be sorted. He never got the chance as an eleven year old, see?

How did Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, feel about that?

Sir Padfoot actually talked about that at length once he was drunk enough to let the tears fall. It was his one regret, something he would never forgive himself for, no matter what Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, said to him. Sir Padfoot felt horrible about taking away his childhood. Said, "Lily and James will never forgive me," he did.

Wow. But he saved his live by taking him away from everything. By training him, preparing him to face Voldemort.

Yes, and when I said as much, he would respond "But at what cost!"

And that's why he's drunk all the time?

I can only assume. Anyway, Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, got sorted into Gryffindor, and went and sat next to a girl who caught his eye.

That's it? That's all you're going to say? What did he think of the girl? What was Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, feeling?

Harry felt hungry.

You're ruining this.

No, you are forgetting that you read the diary of a girl, and I got Harry's side of the story from a drunk godfather. And Harry's a bloke! I said she caught his eye, didn't I?

Well, for her part, Ginny was nearly hyperventilating. But she kept it cool on the outside when Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, sat across from Hermione, next to Ron, and diagonally from where Ginny sat. "Welcome," she said, a little coldly.

Ron and Hermione both greeted him as well, though he could tell they were a little unsure of how to interact with him. Like most people he met, they probably wondered whether they should thank him for saving their lives, or simply talk with him like a normal teenager. Was the "thanks for killing a mass murderer so I can sleep soundly at night" discussion for when they got to know each other, or to be used as an ice breaker?

Well, Ginny wasn't thinking much about that, so much as if he felt as strong as he looked. Or if his lips were as soft as they looked.

Really? She went right to that, did she?

No, I'm exaggerating. It may have crossed her mind, but so did another million thoughts. Really, I almost stopped reading her diary, she spilled so much crap. But there was much more than physical attraction here. She was so intrigued by Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished. Who was he, really? Was he the kid who crashed through enchanted ceilings to get attention? Would he treat Ron and her differently because they came from a humble home? Would he think less of Hermione because she was muggleborn? She realized, of course, that he had defeated ol' Noseless, but that didn't mean he had the exact opposite viewpoints of him, now did it?

Meanwhile, Harry was hungry.

Boys…

You are a boy!

I'm in her head, George! And right now, Harry is coming off as obtuse and uninteresting.

I think he's cool, calm, collected.

And hungry.

Yes. And dinner soon came. Because of the aforementioned hesitations, conversation was sparse.

It was; and this only fueled Ginny's misperception that Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, was an arrogant prick.

That got extreme pretty quickly.

You know Ginny; quick to judge, quick to anger, slow to realize and admit fault, but quick to apologize and forgive.

Funny, that little cycle appears a couple times throughout this story.

Half of the cycle is included in the limited conversation that happened at the dinner table. After they'd briefly introduced themselves and feasted for a minute, Ginny spoke up regarding what was bothering her. "Quite the entrance you made, Harry."

Harry chuckled. "Yea, we thought it would be fun to give the teachers and school kids a little something to talk about."

Ginny's anger flared. "And you're the one to provide us with something to talk about, huh?"

Not catching her hostility in the question, Harry answered with a smile and an old joke he, Sir Padfoot, and Moony shared. "I am Harry Potter, after all." It's was common for he and his mentors to make fun of his fame and jokingly laud it. It kept them humble, in a sarcastic way.

Well Ginny was a little too eager to view it as arrogance. "And Harry Potter can just do whatever he wants, can he?" Ginny asked hotly, no longer hiding her disgust with him.

Harry was beyond confused. Why was the pretty witch behaving like a pretty bi—

—That's our sister, mate. And why, indeed? Well, Ginny wanted to dislike him for some reason. In extensive introspection via diary, she came to the conclusion that she had jumped down his throat and decided to hate him to compensate for the incredible draw she felt to him.

Strange one, she is. Well, oddly enough, she sparked a passion in him as well. It was anger. But you and I both know that passion festers. It slowly changes shape, you see. It might start as passionate anger, but can easily change into any type of passion.

And it would. But not that night. No, it remained anger and confusion on that night.

"What?" Harry responded, utterly confused, and his own voice raising a bit to match Ginny's. "No, we were just having a bit of fun."

This wound Ginny up, a bit unnecessarily. After all, she had thought the entrance was fun. "So you ride in here on your high horse, Mr. Savior of the World, and just think you can have fun at our expense."

Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, was actually stung by her comment. He never wanted to flaunt his fame and fortune, his triumph and victory. He had just been having a bit of fun. And she needed to back off of him for it. His hurt was replaced by anger. "It was a hippogryph, Ginny, not a horse," he responded caustically, his voice raising another tick. "Who'd have thought a beautiful girl like you could make Minnie look like a chill Jamaican on weed?"

Ginny's mind went blank with fury. How dare he call her uptight, stuck up? He didn't know her! She was a fun rule-breaker. A quidditch star. And here this kid came in like he owned the place, and judged her without a second thought. The irony of her thoughts, really…anyway, she stood up violently from the table, got in his face and whispered deadly. "Whatever happened to Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished? I'd like him to make a return."

Harry stared into her eyes for a long moment, unable to think of a comeback. Maybe it was that she stunned him with her words. Her words were so contradicting that he had to spend a few minutes just to work out what she had said. But more likely, it was her proximity and that he finally got a good look into her eyes, and the emotion and energy there captivated him.

George! That was brilliant!

Yea? It felt kind of nice, getting in his head a little. Though I'm probably making up a little bit.

Meh.

Harry stayed seated, staring off at Ginny's retreating figure. He hated that even in his anger he couldn't help but admire the sway of her hips as she moved towards the exit. So ensconced in his jumbled thoughts for this mysterious girl he was, Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, jumped when he heard Ron clear his throat to his side. "Sorry 'bout her, mate. She can be a bit short with people sometimes…can't, for the life of me, understand why in your case."

Meanwhile, Ginny was stalking up to her room at this point, ready to write in her diary for a very long time. Too long a time, really. She would slowly get better at condensing her thoughts on Harry, but not this entry. However, her final line of the day? "I hate that I'm so excited he called me beautiful."

Huh…well, Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived-and-vanished, never responded to Ron. In fact, a new Harry was born at that moment. Harry Potter, the Boy-who-for-the-fist-time-in-his-life-had-no-comeback-and-couldn't-stop-thinking-about-the-cause-of-it.

That's a mouthful. I don't think I'll be repeating that name from now on.

Deal.


A/N: I've finished the rough draft of this story. Should be about seven or eight chapters, and updates can come regularly. Though, I will say that I get much more inspiration to edit my future chapters and ready them for updating when I get a few reviews telling me what you lovely readers think of the story! In other words, please leave me your thoughts on the story and I'll update quicker.

Until next time!