PART 1: THE LOVE
LETTER
Ginny
Weasley watched Harry, Hermione and Ron conversing in low tones in the Weasley
family room. It was Harry's second week at the Burrow, as Dumbledore finally
allowed him to spend the rest of his holidays there. In some ways, it was
exciting to see Harry there so close to her, sleeping in the same room just
above hers. In Ginny's young life, it was heaven. She always looked forward to
the summer holidays, since it meant she would be in such close proximity to
Harry. However, in other ways it was also heart-braking, for even if Harry was
so close he was always distant with her. How ironic, she thought.
The last year for Harry had had an adverse effect on
him. Since the rebirth of the Dark Lord, Ginny (and other people around her) had
noticed a definite downswing in Harry's mood. It rubbed off on the people
around him like a disease. It affected Ginny the worst, for unlike her brother
Ron and Hermione, they were able to sit with him and comfort him. But for Ginny
it was none of that. She longed to put her arm around him and tell him it'd be
all right. To able to confide in him about her fears, and to be there when he
needed her. But no, he's Harry Potter. People will always be waiting on him
hand and foot, whenever he needed them. Why would he need someone like me? She
thought bitterly.
She continued to spy on the three friends from the
landing on the stairs, hidden from view until her mother called loudly out for
her.
"Ginny!
Help me set the table for lunch!."
The
sound of Mrs. Weasley's voice caught the attention of Harry, Ron and Hermione,
and all three instinctively snapped their heads in Ginny's direction. They
spotted her at once. Blushing profusely, Ginny mumbled "coming Mom" in reply
and hastily dashed out of their view. Ron and Hermione watched her with amused
eyes, but Harry looked away of. In Ginny's opinion, nothing much had really
amused him since he came to the Burrow. Which is just as well, thought
Ginny glumly. She was prone to embarrassing herself when Harry was around.
**
During
lunch, in which Harry ate his food with a subdued look, Ginny observed him out
of the corner of her eye. George noticed her sidelong glances and gave her a
wink. Ron noticed it, and asked in a curious voice, "What're you winking at
Ginny for, George?". Ginny almost choked on her sausage and stared determinedly
at her plate.
"Oh
just something in my eye. The wind I think," replied George in an amused tone,
trying to keep his face straight.
Ginny
quickly looked at Harry out of impulse, curious as to whether he noticed
anything, and was startled to find his eyes fixed on her. She quickly looked
away, her face flushing as red as her hair. Why do I have to blush now??
She
always gave herself away like this. Vaguely, she heard someone snort into their
plate.
"You
alright, Fred?" asked a concerned Mrs Weasley
"Yeah…just
choking Mom."
"That's
not something you should be joking about, Fred!"
Having
had enough of her brothers' taunts, Ginny excused herself from the table and
went straight up to her room.
She had no idea what she was going to do in there,
but it was better than being in the same room as her brothers. It always
embarrassed her by the fact that they obviously knew of her infatuation with
Harry. Try as she might to hide and deny it, her brothers never bought it. I
must be that obvious, Ginny thought miserably. She'd had to endure her
brothers' taunts about Harry ever since the first day she saw him. She was
teased mercilessly about it, but since Harry had rescued her from the Chamber
of Secrets, the taunts had decreased. Probably from the insistence of their
mother, who knew of Ginny's ordeal and therefore wanted to protect her.
Nevertheless, Mrs. Weasley's scolding hadn't quelled her brothers' jokes. They
still did it, even if only subtly. It still hurt and angered her though. What
hurt more than their jokes was Harry's blindness to her existence.
Sighing, Ginny picked up her quill and parchment.
Since she had no close friends to confide in, she often turned to writing to
sort out her frustrations. She supposed she could always go to Hermione for
advice, since she already knew of her Harry obsession – but Hermione was too
close to Harry to really talk about this stuff with her. Hermione would
probably understand, but since she had problems of her own, Ginny thought it
best not to burden her any more with her own petty problems.
Ginny stared at the blank piece of parchment,
thinking what to write. She had not kept a diary since she was 11. The events
leading up to her Chamber of Secrets ordeal too fresh in her mind, giving her
phobias of diaries in general. As a result, she had often turned to writing her
feelings down on parchment – as a form of "therapy" her mother had called it –
and burned it up pronto. The thought of anyone (especially Fred and George)
finding a piece of parchment with HarryHarryHarry scribbled all over it
gave her nausea.
Dear Harry, Ginny began, but paused. How can anyone write down
what they've been feeling for someone they've liked for years? It was so complex and so confusing, that
Ginny found it difficult to begin. Well Dear Harry was at least more
intelligent than HarryHarryHarry. For the past two years that was all
she could write since the word Harry was pretty much
self-explanatory. But this time Ginny was resolved to actually write
something more intelligent than a single name scrawled ten million times. Ginny
took a deep breath and wrote –
Dear
Harry,
I don't exactly know how to put in
words how I feel about you, but ever since I first saw you, I had wanted you.
That
sounds a bit corny, Ginny thought with a grin, but continued anyway:
What I really mean to say is (clichés aside, because
I didn't really know a better way of opening the letter) that I have feelings
for you, and I have felt this way for so long. I don't know why I feel this
way, but I can't help it. I'm too chicken to say it to your face, so I'll have
to make do with writing it. Besides, you won't know what I've written since
I'll be burning this up straight away. For all anyone cares, I could be writing
that I have sexual fantasies of you every night, and no one will be any the
wiser. Not that I do.
But seriously, I know I'm just Ron's
little sister to you, but there's nothing wrong in dreaming that one day I
could be more than that.
Love,
Ginny.
Just when Ginny finished looping the 'y' in her
name, there was a soft knock on the door. Hastily shoving the parchment in her
robe, she uttered a quick "come in" and slightly blushed when Hermione poked
her head in.
"Hey
Ginny," she said brightly, "mind if I come in?"
"No.
Please do."
Hermione
shut the door behind her and sat down on Ginny's bed. Ginny turned her swivel
chair to face Hermione.
"I
just want to know if there's anything bothering you Gin," she said softly.
"Nothing's
bothering me," Ginny lied.
"Well
you know that if you want to talk, I'll always be here" the older girl replied
in a sisterly tone.
Ginny
had never had anyone to look up to as a sister, and having Hermione there
somehow made her feel better.
"Well
– " she began. Immediately the colour in her cheeks returned. Thinking of Harry
always made her feel this way. Like a massive git. She supposed she probably
looked like one too, though Hermione looked at her expectantly, not seeming to
have noticed anything.
"Well
it's like this –" Ginny paused a second time. Even if Hermione knew about her
Harry obsession, she still felt funny about mentioning his name. Plus the fact
that he was in the same house with her made her feel even more uneasier talking
about him. She decided on a different course of action.
"Hermione"
she said, "say there was a boy who you really like and er…" she waited, looking
at Hermione for some sort of reaction, but there was none. "And er…he doesn't
really know you exist. Or well, he doesn't take much notice of you. I mean, you
want him to know how you feel, but you don't know how to. What would you do?"
There
was a short silence, in which Hermione stared at her looking thoughtful.
"Harry."
It wasn't a question, because Hermione already knew.
"Just
be a friend to him. Mom always said that the best romances always start with
friendship."
"Er…right,"
said Ginny. She thought about the times when she and Harry were in the same
room and she wasn't able to say a coherent sentence. "How do I do that?" as
soon as the words left her mouth, Ginny felt like an idiot. What a stupid
question. But Hermione understood.
"Just
be yourself," she said, "you're a beautiful, intelligent and funny girl Gin. If
anyone knows how to be those things, it's you."
Ginny
laughed dryly, "Yeah, I'm funny alright. I make people laugh without even
trying."
"You
know what I mean," Hermione said, trying to scowl but not succeeding.
The
sound of Ron's voice calling Hermione downstairs interrupted their
conversation. Ginny watched Hermione get up and cross to the door. Before she
opened it she turned to Ginny and said, "don't be afraid to show him who you
are". Then she left.
Ginny sighed. Hermione's advice made sense. She's
known Harry for years, but she doesn't really know him. Though she's
said a few things to him like "hi" and "goodbye", she hadn't really had a
proper conversation with him. Harry had dozens of admirers who behaved in
either the way that she did (going red and being clumsy), or in the way the
Creevey brothers did - "Harry! Harry! Harry!." Enough said. Of course Harry's
not going to notice her. To Harry, she was probably just another one of dozens
of girls who have an insufferable crush on him. Heaving another sigh, Ginny got
up and began to pack her bags. Tomorrow they were going to catch the Hogwarts
Express from platform nine and three quarters.
