CHAPTER II
Swarming with Little Potters

Harry woke up for the second time in his four-poster bed. Still not quite used to the idea that he had so much room where he slept, he got up.

Shortly after that first letter from Hogwarts arrived, Harry was given a new room. However, he'd been too busy trying to get hold of one of those letters to actually enjoy his spacious new room.

When Ron woke, they headed downstairs to see if they could find the Great Hall without getting lost in the bowels of the castle.

They did get lost. Twice. Breakfast had already begun when they arrived. They hurried to their established seats, trying to attract as little as possible attention to their tardiness. Harry, however, was followed by whispers, stares and finger-points.

When they were in the middle of their breakfast, the owls entered the hall. It scared Harry just like it had scared him the day before. What even scared him more was a gray owl that fell in his bowl of fruit loops.

"That's Errol," said Ron, white in the face, hoping no one had seen what his family owl did. "My family's owl," he explained to Harry. "What's he doing, delivering you a letter?"

"Are you sure it's for me?" Harry asked. "Nobody's ever sent me a letter, except this school. Why would anybody from your family send me a message?" He untied the scroll from the unconscious owl's leg and handed it to Ron. "I think it's for you."

Ron took the scroll, unrolled it, and started laughing. "Nope. It's for you, mate. Ginny wrote you a love letter."

Harry, turning distinctly red in the face, choked on his mouthful of bread (he'd abandoned his fruit loops). "'Dear Harry,'" Ron started reading out loud, for the entire section of the table to hear. "'My name is Ginny Weasley. We met briefly -'"

"Don't read that!" Harry said as he pulled the letter out of his laughing friend's hands.

"If I didn't know better," Ron said, still laughing, "I'd say Ginny's got a crush on you."

Harry, even redder than the Hogwarts Express now, was desperate for a change of conversation. "So what have we got today?" he asked as he stuffed the letter in one of the pockets of his black Hogwarts robes.

"Transfiguration," said Ron, taking pity on his friend for the amount of shame he must be feeling. A love letter from Ginny ... Ron wasn't able to quell a wicked grin. "It's the twins' favorite subject. I'm sure we're about to find out why.


That evening, after all the lessons of the day had finished, Harry was able to win himself a seat near the common room fire. Ron had decided, upon Hermione's active persuasion, to start with McGonagall's foot-length essay on Simple, Inanimate Transfiguration Spells.

Looking around warily for Hermione and the twins, who'd either make him start studying for the exams which were, according to Hermione, "not so far away at all", or else make fun of him when they found out Harry had been sent a love letter, Harry only saw a couple of studious fifth-years huddled in a corner, whispering. It was early in the evening, after all, far too early for the common room to be chock-full.

Harry started fumbling with the pockets of his robes. It would take him a while, he figured, to get used to these magical garb. They were a bit like his hair: a bit too big for him, black, and would just not sit right. Finally, Harry managed to extract the letter he'd received at breakfast.

He felt blood rushing to his head again. What was he going to do with a love letter? Was he going to reply? But he wasn't in love with the little girl he'd seen running after the train. Should he politely decline? Should he ignore her? But this was only his second letter ever, if you count all the letters from Hogwarts as one.

Blushing, Harry smoothed out the crinkled parchment and started reading the letter he knew he'd cherish for the rest of his life, regardless of its contents, it being only his second real letter, after all. To his utmost relief, he realized it wasn't a love letter. Ron had simply made that up. Harry made a mental note to confront him with it.

Dear Harry,

My name is Ginny Weasley. We met briefly on platform nine at the train station on the first of September - you asked my mom how to get to platform nine and three quarters.

I understand you are friends with Ron. He's my brother. Say hi to him for me, will you? He sent us (that is, Mom, Dad and me) a letter this morning to tell us about his first day at school before lessons started. Congratulations on making Gryffindor, by the way.

After much persuasion on my parents' side, I finally decided to write you a letter. Why? Because I couldn't stop thinking about you. Some part of you got burned onto my retina and everywhere I go, I can't help thinking what that polite boy that was following us would be doing.

It's just ... You struck me as a mystery person. I don't know what it is. It's this sort of gift, I guess. I can get a very accurate impression of people the instant I meet them. But I just can't figure you out.

I'm sorry. I must be sounding stupid and foolish and, though I don't think my handwriting can convey it, a little nervous. I just wanted to send you a letter, that's all. I would be honored if you replied.

But of course, if you already have a mountain of fan mail, just put me on the "forget" pile. You probably have loads of fans dying for a reply. If I'm one of them, don't bother answering this letter. I'm not worth getting back to when there are so many other people to take the initiative and write a letter just like me.

So a little about me, now, I guess. Like I told you, my name is Ginny Weasley. I live with my parents in a little village called Ottery St Catchpole. I have six brothers, all older than me. Bill and Charlie have left Hogwarts already. You'll have met Percy, as he's a Gryffindor prefect. The twins mentioned they'd met you. And obviously you're friends with Ron.

I like playing Quidditch, though my brothers never let me play. They say I'm a girl and far too fragile for such a manly sport. As if the Holyhead Harpies isn't an all-women team! Anyway, they don't think I'm any good at flying. I can't wait till trying out for the Gryffindor team in a few years' time.

Speaking of years, I just turned ten. I know you're eleven, because this is your first school year. I will be going to Hogwarts next year (I hope). I can't wait.

What's Hogwarts like? I've heard from my brothers that it's a big castle, but I've never been there. What are the lessons like?

What is fame like? Is everybody goggling at your scar like I expect them to? You shouldn't blame them; they're just kids.

Since I'm on a spree of question-asking, I'll just continue. Everybody knows that you're not muggle-born. Your father and mother were a witch and wizard. How come you didn't know how to get onto the platform?

I heard you were taken in by Muggle relatives of yours. Is that correct? If so, what's their excuse for not seeing you off at platform nine and three quarters?

We all heard the story of how you defeated You-Know-Who when you were one year old. I was wondering, how much of it is correct? The Daily Prophet is known blow things out of proportion.

Are you an Animagus? It's probably inaccurate, but I remember one Quibbler article that said you were born an Animagus owl.

Please reply. I'd love to be quill friends. I hate to complain about being lonely, but with all my brothers gone, I could use another friend.

Looking forward to your reply,Love,Ginny

Harry was puzzled at first. Why would anyone in their right mind want to send him a letter? Why this little girl, of all people? He really hadn't expected any mail, to be honest. And of all the people he'd ever met in the wizarding world, this little redheaded girl was the last one he had expected to send him a letter.

But why had she? That gift of hers that told her what kind of people everyone she met was, didn't tell her what kind of person Harry was, so what? Was that a legitimate reason to write a letter and find out? If it were Harry, he'd just forget about that person.

No, there had to be something more to the reason for the letter. But she wouldn't let him in on it. Why? Obviously she was interested in him as a person, but Harry found it hard to believe it was because of her "gift". Why would anyone in their right mind be interested in him as a person? It just didn't make sense.

And yet she said she wanted to be pen pals. That idea seemed appealing to Harry, even though he couldn't figure out what was in it for her. Was she trying to make fun of him? Maybe it was all a huge hoax.

But Dudley wasn't here. Everytime he'd been maligned by his classmates - given the wrong date and address for a party, or framed for hiding the teacher's chalk - Dudley had been behind it in one way or another. Now, Harry was quite certain that Dudley did not know Ginny Weasley.

This was the first letter Harry had ever received, apart from the rather official ones from Hogwarts. This was the first casual letter he had ever received and he wast thankful for it. He decided to honor it with a reply.

Harry took a spare bit of parchment and a quill and started writing. Soon, he'd written more than Ginny had and he decided to stop. When he was finished, Harry left the common room, hoping he could find his way to the Owlery - and back.

When he entered one of the highest towers in Hogwarts, Hedwig immediately flew to the window sill before him.

"Hello, girl," Harry said appreciatively as he started stroking her white feathers. "I have a letter for you. The addressee is called Ginny Weasley. She lives in a town called Ottery St Catchpole. D'you think you can find her?"

Hedwig hooted in indignation at the implication that she might not be able to find an addressee. Harry tied the scroll to the owl's leg and found himself hoping that Ginny Weasley would write back soon.

As he made his way back down to Gryffindor Tower, he ran into Ron, who had finished his Transfiguration essay in the library.

"Hey, Ron!"

The gangly, tall, redheaded form of Ron Weasley turned around to face his friend. "Hey, Harry. What's up?"

"D'you finish your Transfiguration essay? Anyway, why did you say the letter from your sister was a love letter?"

"Because it was," said Ron, starting to laugh again. "You read it? 'Dear Harry,'" Ron cited in a horrible impersonation of Ginny's girly voice. "'My name is Ginny Weasley. We met briefly at platform nine and three quarters. I want you to fall in love with me so we can marry and have lots of children and start a family. Lots of love, Ginny.'"

"That's not what it said," Harry said, producing the letter from his robes. He was getting better at unpocketing something. He handed the letter to Ron.

Contrary to what Harry expected, Ron started laughing harder now. "Look at this stuff. 'Dear Harry,' 'I couldn't stop thinking about you.' 'I'd love to be pen friends.' or 'Love, Ginny' Seems to me like she's awfully eager to be on first-name terms. Dude, Harry, are you blind? This is a freaking love letter."

Blushing again, Harry said, "No, it isn't. This is just a ... I don't know. A friend's letter."

"Only one problem in that train of thought, pal. You're not friends with my sister. Not yet anyway. And if it's up to her, you'll bypass the whole 'friend' stage and go straight to M-A-R-I-E-D."

"You know, you forgot an 'R'," Harry noted.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Go on. Change the topic. Forget that she's smitten with you. You didn't send a reply, did you?"

Absolutely red now, Harry slowly nodded. Ron started howling with laughter. "This place is going to be swarming with little Potters in a few years' time."