Ginny Weasley and the Heir of Slytherin

Ginny's Fantasy

It had been almost a full year since Ginny Weasley had chased the Hogwarts Express as it carried Harry Potter away to Hogwarts. Her brothers were now home for the summer holidays and she was finally approaching her eleventh birthday. Looking out her lonely bedroom window, she saw that it was a beautiful August morning, but she still felt tired. She laid back down on her firm bed and closed her eyes. She could vaguely remember that she should be happy about something, but couldn't remember what that might be. She knew it wasn't her upcoming birthday — it was something else — something she had really wanted for a long time...

Incredibly, Ginny had had about the wildest luck in that her brother Ron had managed to become Harry Potter's best friend. Consequently, she had heard quite a lot about Harry as well as about a girl named Hermione, who seemed to be the third member of a kind of unofficial trio. Harry, Ron and Hermione had the distinction of managing to save some kind of powerful magical stone the previous year, but poor Harry had come face-to-face with You-Know-Who for a second time. Ron told it like it was a rousing adventure tale, but Ginny felt keenly aware that Harry might not have survived.

Ginny's family had invited Harry to stay at their house about a thousand times, but he strangely seemed to be ignoring their letters. Of course, given how awful Ron said the Muggles Harry lived with were, it was possible that he simply wasn't able to reply. This caused Ginny to remember what had happened that had made her feel so happy; Harry Potter was coming to her house — famous Harry Potter might, in only a few days time, be standing in the same room as her.

Ginny opened her eyes and sat up again, not feeling quite so tired anymore. The events of the previous night were coming back to her. After she had overheard her parents decide to pick Harry up if he didn't write back by Friday, she had become so excited that she hadn't been able to get to sleep for hours — which explained why she was so tired now. This excitement was coming back and she jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. The various greetings she had been dreaming up for when she met Harry began flowing through her mind — in only a few days, she might actually be able to use one...

"Hi, I'm Ginny Weasley and you must be Harry Potter."

"I'm Ginny; you must have heard a lot about me from Ron. I've heard a lot about you, too."

"Hello, my name's Ginny. I've always wanted to meet you."

"You're Harry Potter? Wow! I'm Ginny. I never thought I'd have the privilege of meeting you."

"So you're Harry Potter? I never imagined I'd get to meet you personally."

In the kitchen, to her utter astonishment, she found the very person she was thinking about had arrived two full days early. Harry James Potter himself was less than ten feet from her and she was standing before him, her hair still standing on end and clothed only in a plain nightdress. She involuntarily squealed, turned around and, the next thing she knew, she was running back upstairs, hoping he somehow hadn't seen her. Before she knew what she was doing, she had collapsed back onto her bed, breathing heavily.

This had to be a dream — it just had to be. It wasn't possible.

After lying on her bed for a few minutes, she sat up again. She felt faint and her chest felt very close to exploding, but she had gotten over the initial shock and could now force herself to think rationally. Harry Potter couldn't really be there — in her home — but she knew it was him — she had glimpsed him again at the end of the last school year. But maybe this was just some kind of dream. Ginny pinched herself on the arm, but it hurt and a cold reality settled over her like frost.

It wasn't a dream.

She looked down at her bare feet. Somewhere beneath them, famous Harry Potter himself was talking amiably with her brothers Fred, George and Ron. As she looked back on what had just occurred, Ginny found herself feeling shaky and horrified. If he had seen her, which he probably had, what would famous Harry Potter think of her? She laid back on her bed and took a few breaths to compose herself. When she felt calmer, she closed her eyes, which, for some reason, were now full of tears.