Entry Two: Pickled Toad "Your beautiful eyes, stare right into my eyes your here, your eyes are looking into mine so baby make me fly my heart has never felt this way before..." Beautiful Eyes, Taylor Swift I remember the first time I ever saw Harry Potter, ironic of course that I didn’t have a clue who I was staring at so boldly. It’s a small story including a train station, unnerved tears, and a wizarding barrier. My mother and I were seeing off my remaining brothers as they prepared to board the train to school for the beginning of term. I was not handling it very well; each year I was left behind I had the consolation that my brother Ron, who was only one year older, would stay behind as well. This was Ron’s first year at Hogwarts, thus leaving me to fend for myself. I hated being the youngest. I complained, and begged my mother to let me go with them, that no one would care if I went a year early, of course I hadn’t resulted to screaming and lashing out, I was far to dignified to put on a show. But my mother wouldn’t see to it, no matter how my persuasive voice was heard it still fell on deaf ears. So I felt my eyes welling up. I never cried. Ginny Weasley never cried. I just wanted to go so badly, I wanted to learn how to control my magic and use it how I wanted. And now I had to wait another bloody year, and this time, alone. We had just reached the barrier between platforms nine and ten at the muggle station, my mother leading the pack when I saw him. I was staying close to my mother, in case my unwanted tears dared to give way and my brothers would see. That’s when a young boy came up to us. I laid my eyes on him and every other thought left my head. (I didn’t know, then, that I would never lay eyes on another boy the same way.) He was about as tall as Ron, only much skinnier, almost to an extreme; it was obvious by the way his clothes hung off him that he wasn’t well fed. He was pale and wore glasses, but he was easily the most handsome boy I had ever seen. His eyes…his eyes, were emeralds and maybe I was so dazed, maybe it was because all coherent thought, (I’m still not sure why this came to my head then.) but they suddenly reminded me of fresh pickled toad. His eyes were big and bright, full of elation and a kind of happiness and fear and nervousness I had never seen before, even behind his round spectacles I could read him like a book. I could see straight into him. It was a lot to take in for a ten-year-old girl. His hair was midnight black and it stuck up I strange places making it fun to look at. I hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation he was having with my mother but I took it that he was a first year and wanted to know how to get on the platform. I found odd that he didn’t know; what wizard doesn’t know how to get to Hogwarts? And why was he all alone? I wanted to pay attention, honestly I did, but he was so…distracting? I was only ten; I didn’t know anything about those feelings. So I just stood there, smiling, staring, all trace of tears or would be tears gone, all I felt was some kind of magic inside me. Love at first sight? I know now that must have been it. But back then…I didn’t even know who he was. I heard the last of my mother’s explanation, and I could see he was nervous when it was his time to run through the wall. I managed to open my mouth, “Good luck!” I called to him smiling. He turned to see me, and he seemed to relax, I must have given him the encouragement he needed. He smiled and then disappeared through the barrier. And just like that, he was gone. My brothers then left, one by one, and my mother and I followed. I tried to look for the boy but I couldn’t see him, I waved off my brothers still sad, but now excited for the following year. My mother has always been a bright woman, and with having seven children nothing really ever got past her. On our way home I saw her stealing glances at me, it was becoming rather annoying, when she spoke. “Is my daughter, the fine Ginny Weasley, smitten?” her voice smirking on its own, in the way only Molly Weasley could. I blushed, the trademark Weasley blush, my face going as red as my hair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She must have been mental, there was no possible reason I would be smitten with a boy when I already promised myself to Harry Potter, and she knew this. Looking back I laugh though, at that point, the two boys had neither spoken to me, and one I had never even met. Or so I thought. My mother wasn’t buying it, naturally, but she spared me. We figured that over the next few days the reason none of my brothers had written was because they were getting settled for another school year. And, I didn’t need letters I was sure Percy was being his jaunty Head Boy self, Fred and George wrecking havoc and Ron, well Ron was most likely as insipid there as he was at home. Two out of three isn’t bad. Truth was, I missed them terribly, being an only child was not right. When we got our first letter from Ron, a little over a week later I sat to hear what it was like, I had already imagined what the castle looked like but I was always eager for more information, and if he managed to say anything about that boy then… It was a long shot, but a girl could dream. Ron’s letter however did change my life, he had become best friends with the boy from the train station, and his name happened to be Harry Potter. My mother did mot spare me for the remainder of the year. That Christmas I wished that Ron wouldn’t ruin that friendship.