When Ginny first saw Harry it was a shock, which faded quickly into curiosity then transformed slowly into admiration. There he was, the boy-who-lived that she had read about in the third to last chapter of her history primer. He looked just like a younger version of the small, black and white photograph on the same page that showed Mr. James Potter, the man who had died trying to defend the newborn. Ginny had often peered at that photograph wondering what the rest of their story was, and here, at the train station she realized she was going to find out.
Honestly, at first she was curious. The black-haired boy had acted confused and bewildered, but Ginny had been too distracted with poking Ron trying to ask him questions that she hadn't put that messy haired boy together with the one in her history book.
However, after the train had started bustling away, her mum had told her loudly over the shrill whistle, that that boy was Harry Potter.
Ginny's eyes became saucers as she stared after the disappearing engine. "Oh mum, was it really?"
Mrs. Weasley shook her head slowly. "I can't believe it myself. He'd all but disappeared from the wizarding community. I wonder if he even knows." Taking Ginny's arm, she began walking down the platform, saying decidedly, "I'm glad Ron is with him - that boy is going to need a friend."