owl post

(a harry potter story)

The first of the letters arrived on a Monday.

Ginerva Weasley was eating her breakfast at the Hogwarts table, sitting with her friends Corey Jameson and Angie Winds. Corey nudged her with his elbow. "Listen, Gin," he said jokingly, and she elbowed him back. "You'll wanna hear this." He smiled jokingly and told his riveting story about the time he upset a Mandrake.

"You're such a liar, Corey," Angie said, spooning egg into her mouth. "I don't believe a single word."

"Yeah? Well did I tell you about the time I had to ride off on my broomstrick from an angry chimera?"

Angie moaned and went back to her playing with her wand. She made red sparks shoot out from it, then bright green swirls. Ginny laughed and clapped enthusiastically. Angie twirled it in her fingers as a golden trail lazily drifted along behind it. Angie was the most skilled wand-wielder Ginny knew, but not for spells: for display. She couldn't case a Stunning Spell to saver her life. Forget a Stunning Spell; Angie sometimes had trouble with a Disarming Spell. But Angie could create the best firework show anywhere.

Corey was a great storyteller and jokester. He knew how to make you laugh. He was fair with his wand, but excelled at Transfiguration. He could turn a cat into an overcoat and back again. It never meowed once. There was a memorable class in which he turned a bird into a comfortable, two-floor tent that took up the majority of the Transfiguration classroom.

Corey and Angie were Ginny's best friends. Ginny was very popular and well-liked for her humor, tomboy-nature, and good looks. Ginny was very good in class and had O's in nearly every class. Her spells were magnificent. Ginny had everything.

That morning, owls fluttered about the Great Hall as they normally did. Ginny wasn't expecting anything, although a letter from Mum would be nice.

Instead, a gorgeous snowy white owl descended from the rafters. It landed gracefully on the table. Everyone hushed and watched as the owl dipped its beak into Ginny's coffee. One of Ginny's fellow sixth years noticed a letter tied to its leg. "Ginny, it's for you!"

Ginny carefully undid the letter. She stroked the owl's back gently. It was such a beautiful creature, with large, soft wings and beautiful amber eyes. "Who sent you?" she whispered, but the owl did not reply.

Ginny unraveled the letter. The owl nipped her finger affectionately and soared off out the window, the sixth years' eyes following it out. As soon as it was gone, chatter rumbled back up to normal. Corey smiled as Ginny lips moved. Her eyes widened. It was a long letter, and she read every word carefully. Her heart crashed around inside her chest, her stomach flipping.

"What's it say, Ginerva?" Corey asked playfully. She looked up, cheeks flushed, and her face broke into a shining grin.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she teased. "I'll be in Herbology in just a bit. I'm going to go fetch my books; I forgot them." She rustled Corey's hair, squeezed Angie's shoulder, and hurried up to her room.

The letter.

She raced into her dormitory and unfurled the letter again. She reread it.

Dear Ginerva,

You don't know me personally, and that's fine. I know who you are, though. I've heard loads about you.

I need help, Ginerva.

My name is Harry Potter. (Ginny's stomach did somersaults at this name. The famous Harry Potter. The famous goddamn Harry Potter.) I attend Durmstrang, as you most likely know. The Dark Arts school. It's not a very good fit for me, but I had to flee Hogwarts. (More on that later). Your brother and I were very close for three years. We still contact each other daily. Ron is a great person. He helped me escape Hogwarts.

And when I said I needed help, to get back to normal, he recommended the most down-to-earth, calm person he knew.

You.

You, Ginerva.

He told me all about you, how you were raised with five boys, all older. He told me how well you fly, how well you do in school. How lovely you are. And I thought you'd be the perfect person to help me.

So, I sat down and wrote this letter.

It's not the neatest, and it's messy, and it's probably very vague. I'm sure you're probably very confused and very startled to have received a letter from a virtual stranger. I'm not a stranger to you, but you do not know me. You think you know me: Harry Potter, the once-adored, now-despised wizard who destroyed the Dark Lord for all eternity. He's not coming back. And I was ruined by the media, wasn't I, Ginny? You've heard stories of murder, strange abuse, madness. I assure you: THIS IS NOT ME.

I do hope you will write back, Ginerva. I need help. I just need someone to listen.

Thanks for reading my letter. I hope it finds good hands and is not intercepted. What a dreadful shame that would be.

Please, do not show this letter to anyone. I would like this to remain…secretive. It seems wrong for anyone to read what should be very private.

I assure you that I am not coming to harm you. I am harming myself, tearing myself to pieces as I know it. Please, Ginerva.

I'm begging for a shoulder to cry on.

Many thanks,

Harry

Harry Potter wrote to me.

Ginny could not stop replaying this thought in her head. It excited her, but also troubled her greatly. Write back or not? Write back or not?

She finally decided that Harry needed help, wherever he was. She was filled with fear that something awful would happen, but also that something awful would happen if she did nothing.

She put a pen to a piece of parchment.

Dear Harry,

I hope you enjoyed the first installment of my story! I really love doing Harry Potter stories because the world of J.K. Rowling's books is so mystical and complex and there's so much to cover. Thanks!

xx –lauren