Early Memories:

Friends:

What is life without friends? I have been blessed with the same group of close confidents from my younger years to the present day and am proud to say that I have shaped their lives as much as they have shaped mine. I would not be the witch that I am today without their love and support and so I have included my first memory of each of them in this first chapter of my life. In return I have asked each of them to share their first memory of myself as well.

Neville:

My darling Neville Longbottom is the first on my list. He has been involved in many firsts in my life and so it seemed fitting that he would be the friend with whom I start my story.

I met Neville on the train to Hogwarts my first year there. He was a fat funny sort of boy with big eyes and a forgetful air about him. He seemed so befuddled that I instantly felt a bond with him. We sat together for a good twenty minuets while he tried to remember something dreadfully important that his Grandmother had told him only two hours or so before and had a pretty decent conversation in spite of his memory loss. I had heard of him before we met; he and my brother Ron had been involved in some adventures the previous year and a number of letters addressed to me had made mention of a clumsy brave boy who always seemed to be in the way. I don't remember what he was wearing, but I recall that he lost his jumper and that we parted when he went searching the rest of the train for it.

Only a few hours later I was sorted into his house and he smiled at me as I sat down next to Ron. I was unusually shy and his sunny greeting made me feel right at home. I vowed then and there that I would get to know him better and that someday he would be counted among my best friends. Here we are a good hundred eighteen years later and he certainly is.

N: The first time I met you? Humm, let me think. I know I put that memory somewhere. Ah! Here it is. Yes, I remember. You were in tattered robes and scuffed shoes. I was sitting by myself in the last compartment on the train to Hogwarts and you poked your head in and asked if you could join me. I knew you were a Weasley at once, how could I not with all that red hair, so I told you that you were welcome to.

If I recall correctly I was trying to fix something my Gran had told me in my somewhat faulty short term memory. Thank god they finally found a cure for memory spells and I don't have that problem any more. I have always found it vastly assuming that my brain works better at a hundred thirty then it did at twelve. But never mind that. Just the ramblings of an old man, right Ginny me girl?

Where was I? Oh yes, sitting with you in the train. You chatted with me about being sorted into houses. I told you not to worry because if someone as absentminded as I was made it into good ol' Gryffindor then you should have no problem at all. I am not all that sure that I was as comforting as I thought I was being, but you smiled and told me thank you anyway. Then Hermione came by to tell us to change into our robes and I realized that I had lost my jumper after that I dashed off to locate it. I think I found it in the hands of your husband and his goons. Not to be a bad friend or anything Gin, but he really was a rotter as a child.

And there you have it. My first memory of the charming girl I love so much.

Lavender:

Lavender Warrington nee Brown and I became friends when I was five years old. We were never very close though. It was not until I was about twenty six and falling fast for a certain blond bully that any sort of real bond formed between us. She was engaged to one of Draco's friends and the two of them welcomed me with open arms. I owe her the most for showing me the ropes of the cutthroat world that our husbands lived in.

Back when she was simply Lavender Brown, with her long pony tail and bright big eyes, she lived in the closest wizard settlement to mine. Her parents and my own thought it would do us good to be introduced as suitable playmates for young witches were hard to come by.

Our first play date was in late autumn of my fifth year of life. She was six, a whole year older, and lorded it over me something awful. Her pretty pink robes were new and fashionable and her hair was glossy and smooth. I was put off by her nice clothes and snobby attitude and she did not at all like my too big hand me downs and my sneering dirty face. We fought and cried and did all the nasty things little girls do to one another. By the end of the day we were fast friends because of the simple fact that there was no one else to play with.

We remained on friendly terms until she left to Hogwarts. Once there she lost all interest in me and I in her. It wasn't till many years later that we rekindled our acquaintance and realized that we really were suited for one another after all.

L: Oh Ginny-bean, why would you ask me such a foolish question? You know that I resented you from the first time we met until I was twenty seven and finally confident enough not to envy you? Why on earth would you want to dreg up nasty memories? Oh alright, if I must then I will tell you.

The first time I saw you was in my front hall. Your Mother brought you by along with three of your brothers and I spied on you from the top step. Fred and George tugged at your braids before giving you a packet of what later turned out to be Bloating Bubble Gum. Then Ron gave you a big hug and a kiss before crying out that he would miss you as your Mother tried to drag him away. I decided then that I hated you.

My brother was too old for playing with me and never gave me gifts or kisses. I thought that it was unfair that yours would do so when you didn't even have decent robes. I remember sticking my tongue out at you while you stood there looking frightened and out of place and telling my Mother that I didn't want to play with you at all. It was very badly done of me, since you were sweet and kind, but that was the sort of spoiled child I was.

Are you happy now sweets? What sort of friend are you? Getting me to confess to the world that I treated you poorly based on your brothers and your robes.

Millicent:

Millie Zabini, oh I know my first memory of her was a bad one. She was in Slytherin and I was in Gryffindor, what more is there to say? From this side of it the whole house loyalty issue seems very childish and immature, but at the time it was much more important than anything else. I hated those slimly green gits and they hated us golden goodie goodies just as much. So it is with little surprise that I first met Millie in a conflict.

I was trying my hardest to stall that Umbridge woman while Harry was doing something seemingly vital and ended up in face to face combat with her evil henchmen. Somewhere between the opening curses and my famous Bat Boogie Hex I jinxed one Millicent Bulstrode. I cannot say that her actions are clear in my memories, only that a look of horror that came over her face when she realized that her eyebrows were growing at an alarming rate and her teeth weren't that far behind them.

Millie became dear to me many years after that in a similar fashion as Lavender. She and Blaise were Draco's constant companions and both did much more than called for when I became his wife. Without the help of Millie I would never have mastered the fine art of conversation or the deadly world of etiquette.

M: Why, Ginevra, of all the impertinent things out there that you could have asked, did you have to settle on that one? How many years has it been since I took you under my wing and you still don't know the slightest thing about manners. Don't look at me that way, it's not my fault if you didn't take my lessons to heart.

Now I know that the first time you noticed me was when you jinxed me, but I did not even realize that you had done it until you confessed to me years later. No, my first memory of you was quite different. It was shortly following that incident when I remember seeing you. I had wandered into the library after Blaise and passed closer to your table than I normally did. It was by chance that your brother Ron was crowing about the wonderful job you did hexing Draco while you blushed and tried to quiet him.

I thought to myself that you must be a cut above your brothers if you had enough sense not to want your part in the attack made public and told myself to keep my eye out for you. I didn't want to admit it at the time, but that hex of yours was pretty impressive and I was sure that you would be a major player in the future. I am very proud to say that I was not wrong at all.

Pansy:

Pansy Parkinson, or should I say Pansy Longbottom, is the worst first meeting of any of my friends. It was my very first day at Hogwarts and I wanted so badly for it to go well. I had just finished breakfast and was trying to make my way to my first class when a group of older girls stopped me, dragged me into a deserted bathroom and introduced me to the resident ghost.

I was shoved into a narrow stall and locked in by a curse that took Professor McGonagall a good five minuets to break. While trapped in the toilet I became well acquainted with Moaning Myrtle and was completely soaked in the process. I remember vowing right then and there to wreak as much havoc as possible on the blonde pug nosed girl who laughed with her minions as I begged for mercy.

Needless to say, we did not get on very well after that. In fact I think I did all in my power to make her life hell. I even went so far as to convince my darling Neville that Pansy was using him in some sort of elaborate plan for world domination I had come up with in my head. I am not sure when she went from being my bitter enemy to becoming what I would consider my closest ally, but I think it may have happened when she forgave me for talking Neville into leaving her and for being the sole cause of their five year separation.

The Hat knew what he was doing when he put Pansy into Slytherin. She is clever and resourceful, always knowing what to do in any situation. In the event of an emergency Pansy is the one to whom I turn. The cunning and skill that first made me hate her are the very things that I have come to depend the most on. My ties to her are both deep and strong, and my loyalty to her is above all others.

P: The first time I remember you? Lord, what sort of question is that? I know I must have seen you many times before the one that sticks out in my mind, you were quite the thorn in my side during Hogwarts, but the first time I can actually recall your being there was in my seventh year.

You walked into the Great Hall with Potter's arm wrapped around your waist and a look on your face that made me envy you more than anything. Your hair was a mess, all tousled and driven wild from the wind; your eyes seemed to glow with inner light. You had this vacant, dreamy sort of air about you, as if you were walking in a daze, and this breathtaking smile that dominated your face.

I vaguely remember hearing Draco and Blaise cackle about your bovine expression and some other not pleasant attributes, but all I could focus on was the happiness that seemed to be radiating from you. I stuck my arm through Draco's and dragged him over to where you and Potter stood. We heckled you and called the two of you all sorts of nasty names but neither of you replied. Instead you stared into each other's eyes and sighed with contentment.

Seeing you and Potter that way changed my life. I decided that one day I too would have a man look at me the way he was looking at you. I promised myself that I would find love and happiness and that nothing would stand in my way of keeping it once I found it. I owe my life with Neville to you Ginny. If not for the insane way you and Potter melded into each other I never could have become discontent with my life.

Blaise:

Blaise Zabini is the sexiest man I have ever met. Seeing as how I was married to both the famous Harry Potter (voted Most Attractive Male by Witch Weekly seven years in a row) and divine Draco Malfoy (voted Most Eligible Bachelor every year from age seventeen to twenty seven, which is how old he was when I married him) that is certainly saying something.

It is not really his looks that make him so or even that delectable smell only he gives off. Instead it is his impeccable manners and the air of homey comfort that surrounds him. There is nothing in the world like a devastatingly hansom man who makes you feel like a queen, and that's what Blaise is in spades.

The first time I laid eyes on him was when Ron came home from Hogwarts his first year. I was standing with my Mother and Father eagerly awaiting a chance to see Ron and Harry, of whom Ron had been singing praises, when this tall boy with black hair and these ice blue eyes walked past me. I felt my jaw drop and I spun around to watch him. He was chatting animatedly with a dowdy plump girl as he made his way to his parents.

I was quite convinced that he was the closest to perfection that any man had ever been and wanted nothing more than to pull him into a dark corner and do the things that Fred and George bragged about to him. It was because of Blaise that I missed Ron and Harry's exist from train all together.

B: So this is why you asked me over, to pump me for information about how pretty a child you were. Shame on you and your vain ways, Ms. Ginevra. My first memory of you would have to be in my fourth year. You were so in love with Potter that you trailed along after him constantly and cheered loudly for him in each of the events at the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

I was sitting with Draco, Pansy and Millie during the first challenge about four rows behind you. I would not have noticed you if Draco had not pointed you out in the crowd. He made a snide comment about for badly your hair clashed with the bright red 'I Support Harry!' banner that you and Colin were waving about. You had this look of complete adoration on your face and your eyes were glued to Potter's every move.

I remember thinking that I would give anything to have your eyes look at me that way. Don't blush dear. Surely you know how appealing the male portion of the student body found you to be? Now you would never have been called a classic beauty, but there was something horribly alluring about your big brown eyes and sun streaked auburn hair.

I know that Draco certainly felt it. The man could not be in the same room as you without pointing you out to me. I never really noticed it before that day, but afterwards I paid mind to how many times Draco felt compelled to take heed of you and how often your name entered into his conversation. But I digress.

Is there anything else about that day that I remember? Let me think. Ah! That was the first time that I realized how much Millie meant to me. What? Not what you were hoping for? Greedy witch. If you do not wish to listen to me ramble about my wife then I guess that is all I have for you.

Hermione:

Hermione. It was hard to decide to put her here or with the family, but seeing as how I only included my nuclear family in that section she ended up with my friends, where I am sure she belongs. My first meeting with Hermione was in the summer before my first year. She met up with Ron, Harry and the rest of my family to do a little shopping before the start of the term.

My first impression of her was not very favorable. By then I was madly in love with Harry and the sight of his arm slung carelessly about her shoulders made me see red. On top of that, she was still in her know-it- all phase at that point. She was so condescending and patronizing that I took an instant dislike to her. I am sorry to say, but that was the reaction most people had.

Sadly, things did not improve between us for a long ways afterwards. It was not until she had left Hogwarts and realized that she wasn't the be all and end all of the world that she became bearable. Hermione and I became fast friends the summer after I graduated and have remained so ever since. She was the first person I told about leaving Harry and the one I begged advice from when I decided to seduce Draco.

H: Little Ginny. That is the way I remember you. You were always 'little Ginny' to your brother and therefore were so to me. I was astonished to learn that you were only a year younger than us and were a good two inches taller than I was when I saw you in person. I had pictured you as about five years old with pigtails and dirt on your chin so the reality of you threw me slightly.

I fear I was rather rude to you because of it. I know I talked down something awful to you and treated you like you were made of spun glass, and I have long been aware of how bitterly you resented me for that. All I can say in my defense is that the entirety of your family treated you in a similar and I just followed their lead.

I remember the expression on your face when Harry handed you his books, the absolute joy that seemed to pour out of you, and the way that I instantly feared you. At that stage in my life I was indulging in a small amount of hero worship myself and the manner in which he looked at you set my teeth on edge. As much as Harry will deny it, he ate up every drop of longing you sent his way and went searching about for more.

I was jealous of your companionship with your brothers and the secret smile Harry has ever only given you, so I treated you like you had the brain of a gnat. In retrospect I can clearly see why you responded so hostilely to me, but at the time I thought you were nothing but a spoiled brat. Thank the Lord that we are given the chance to change our opinions as our lives progress.

Colin:

Seeing Colin was like finding a missing part of myself. He is so like me in far too many ways and had this habit of finishing my sentences from the first time we set eyes on each other. We came into this world during the same hour on the same day in the same year and have always joked that we were twins born of different mothers.

I feel complete when I am with him in ways that I never have with any other person I know. Being friends with him was not at all an option. I maintain that if Colin were not homosexual I never would have looked elsewhere. To which he never fails to reply that so long as Harry and Draco were out there I never would have given him a second glance.

The first time I saw Colin was on the platform waiting for the train my first year. He was staring at Harry with the sort of awe I had only seen on my own face before and I just knew I had to talk to him. After we were all on the train I set about locating him. I found him stalking Harry and introduced myself as the President of the Harry Potter fan club. He laughed with me then demanded to be made Vice President. We shook hands on it and the rest is history.

C: Ginger, my sweet soul mate, why oh why did you drag me out of my bed? You cannot be serious about writing that book, can you? Who cares what the world thinks of you? I don't get two bronze Knuts about what the rest of society says about me and I should think that at your age you would feel the same way.

Oh for heavens sake, did you have to bring that bit of ancient history up!

The first time I remember seeing you was when you entered platform 9¾ with the most beautiful man I have seen before or since. I whipped out my camera and snapped off six pictures before my Mother took it away from me. I thought you were a funny stick of a girl with wide eyes and hair the color of fire.

When you approached me later to stake your claim to Harry I thought you had a temper with the kick of a gingersnap and christened you as such. I remember the way you finished my sentence and burst out laughing. The skin around your eyes crinkled slightly and the sound of your levity was like a bell tinkling. I knew you and I were meant for great things together that instant.

There. Now may I please go back to my bed? You know as well as I do what both medi-wizard and doctor have said about my fragile state of health and yet you insist on forcing me to be part of your project. Damn inconsiderate of you Ginger.

Thoughts:

From reading this you might get the impression that I dislike just about everyone I meet. That is not the case. I assure you that I made instant friends with many a nice witch and wizard in my day, but most of those relationships have not stood the test of time. I am living proof of how much people change. I do not know if I am still the girl my friends described, but I hope that she remains in some part of me yet.