Owls

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>> Ginny's POV >>

I studied the ten year old girl in the mirror. At the time, I thought I was extremely ugly. Fiery red hair, second hand clothes, rosy red cheeks that were usually stained with dirt. But I saw I had big brown eyes, and a nice smile, at least Harry thought so. Harry. I wondered. Did everyone else time travel too?

A 11-year-old Ron burst into my room, looking as panicked as I felt.
"Quick, Ginny." He said urgently, yet hesitantly. "Who, in the future, do you marry?"

My heart suddenly filled with hope. "Harry Potter. And who is your daughter dating?"

Ron sighed. "Rose dates your son's best friend, Scorpius Malfoy, who is the son of me and Harry's future arch nemesis." Ron and I both let out sighs of relics, and grabbed each other in a tight hug.

"Hey, Gin. If we really are in the past," he whispered to me. "Some people are are still alive."

We tore apart, and ran up the stairs, and swung open  the door to the twins' room. We practically tackled Fred into a bone crushing hug, a trait we both inherited from our mother.

From the other bed, George looked at us jealously. "Since when is Fred your favorite?" He said in a fake offended voice.

Fred swept his hair back. "It's because I'm the ladies' man."

"Oh, right." George snorted. "Alica Spinnet only turned you down five times in the last year alone."

Living the twins to their bickering, Ron and I slipped quietly out of the room. I went to go into Ron's room, but he held me back.

"Pettigrew's in there." His voice was tinted with anger. We walked back to my room and shut the door. Ron ran his fingers through his hair.

"Ron, don't do that." I snap. "You look like a forty-year old man."

"Well, I'm supposed to be thirty-nine, aren't I?" Ron snapped back. 

I was about to give him an angry retort, when an owl smashed onto my bed, flying in from the open window. Ron picked the letter and the owl flew off.

"'What does the D.A. stand for? If you know, write me back. Sincerly, Neville Longbottom.'" Ron read. 

I grabbed a piece of parchment off my desk. I started to write.

Neville,

The answer to your question is Dumbledore's Army. If the three of us are in the same position, Ron and I went to sleep in 2019, as 38 and 39 year-olds. Now, we are stuck in our 10 and 11 year old bodies. 

Write back soon, Ginny

Ron grabbed a piece of parchment, and started writing to Luna, and hesitantly, to Hermione. Just as hesitantly, Ginny wrote a note to Harry. Each note contained a question about the future, and to write back if they knew the answer. 

Hey! Wassup Potterheads? No that it's practically summer, I will be updating on both my profiles more often. Yay! You guys will have much more of my original works and HP fanfiction to look forward to. Annnnd, I have a idea in mind...

Keep fangirling! And Fanboying. Oh, whatever. Potterheads Unite!

-Grace

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