AN: I'm sorry it's been so long, and I'm even sorrier that there are still unfinished stories. Right now, I cannot promise to finish them, as I have neither the time nor the motivation. I probably should have stayed with one-shots from the beginning, but I will not delete the longer stories yet, as I might yet re-find my time and motivation.

Meanwhile, here's a little story of mine. I've gotten back to reading stories on here in the last couple of weeks and I couldn't keep myself from posting this brief one-s. I've rushed the timeline a bit and changed a few details, according to my requirements.
I was too lazy to do a thorough reediting, so there might be some repetitive stuff or typos, but please bear with me.

As always, reviews are highly appreciated and therefore encouraged

Warning: I apologise in advance for the abundant and excessive use of any forms of 'thought' and 'think'.


Thoughts in her head

Thoughts in her head
Blossoming, emerging, arising.
Thoughts in her head,
Rearranging, shuffling, twirling.
Thoughts in her head,
Making her question things she thought she knew,
Making her see things in a different light.
Thoughts in her head,
Making her head spin, her stomach ache,
Opening a door she didn't know existed.

She could still pinpoint the exact moment when things between them had changed. Had changed irrevocably, at least for her. When those thoughts in her head first appeared to go and change not only future and present, but also past.

In the romance movies her mum made her watch over the holidays, when the relationship between long-time friends changed, they always described it as happening gradually, 'til one day they just realised that they'd been in love for a long time already. That was not the way it had happened for her.

Every detail of that night was burned into her memory. She remembered swaying to that song together, him putting his arms around her, how she had felt so safe, how he had managed to lighten her mood ever so slightly.

In those few minutes, he had still been nothing than a friend to her, not trying to devalue friendship, no, he'd been an extremely close friend.

It was when they stopped dancing and he leaned in to her ever so slightly. There was that strange look in his eyes of an unfathomable intensity that she couldn't quite place. "You know, when all of this is over", he started, brushing back a loose strand of her hair, "you and me, we'll both find our happiness."

He paused for a bit, still mustering her ever so strangely, his eyes never leaving hers, her eyes fixed on his in return.

"You're very special, you know that, right? Never forgot that. Never let anyone make you forget that."

Before she could fathom a reply, before she couldn't even process anything of what he had said, he gave her a brief kiss on the forehead and smiled at her before turning around and going back into the tent.

He hadn't lingered, when he kissed her on the forehead, he hadn't said anything the kind of which he hadn't said before, and yet, somehow it was different. Somehow it made her wonder. Somehow it made her thoughts run wild.

For the first time, she contemplated that little yet so meaningful question 'what if'. It was a question that would not leave her for a long time.

A spark had ignited somewhere inside her, and wheels were spinning inside her head.

Had he tried to tell her something different with that sentence? Had that sentence meant more than one would perceive at first?

Somehow, that thought had taken hold of her to fester and to never leave again. The thought of him as something other than a friend. The thought of them being more than just friends.

She had never considered it. The thought had never even entered her mind – he had always been just a friend, nothing more. And now that it had, she didn't know what to make of it.

It would be a lie to say that she couldn't recall how much time she spent out there – no, once again she defied stereotypes in that way. But she sat down in a daze, out in the cold, and she stayed there for close to three hours.

The horcrux was twirled around her fingers, and for once, it had no effect of her, or none that she noticed.

A million thoughts ran through her head that night, and yet she would remember them all, as they kept coming back to her for a long time.

Him being more than a friend? She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the thought, and yet she did not feel like laughing.

Reflecting upon it now, she couldn't even say why she had never even considered the possibility of him being more than a friend.

Had he meant more by it? Had he tried to imply something? Could he be more?

Her thoughts kept running in loops, rewording, restructuring, reanalysing the same questions over and over again.

Could he be more? Could they be more?

The thought of him having more than just friendly feelings for her confused her.

Her heart had started to pound at a higher rate and there was this peaky feeling in her stomach, making her feel something like sick, but not quite.

It was only after a while that she realised that she had not yet contemplated how she felt about him. Could he be more than a friend to her? Did her feelings go deeper?

She didn't know. She couldn't wrap her head around it. She was confused, more confused than she'd ever been before.

Wasn't falling in love supposed to be something beautiful? Wasn't it supposed to make you feel great, lifting?

Well, that was definitely not what she felt like right now. She felt confused and sick, definitely not what she was supposed to feel.

How could she even have feelings for her best friend? If that was the case, shouldn't she have realised that a long time ago? Why now, how?

Was she getting worked up over nothing? Had he just said that to cheer her up, like he always did?

Yes, that was probably it. He had just been kind. He had been just the way she liked him best, not angry, but kind. Kind Harry, that way she liked him. Liked him, or was it more than just a mere liking? Did it go deeper?

Here she went again.

Every once in a while she would convince herself that she had just imagined things, that nothing had changed. It would always last for about ten seconds.

And then the wheel would start anew. She couldn't stop what had been set into motion.

Whenever she contemplated whether his words, his brief touch had meant something more, she couldn't stop her thoughts to wander back to past events, to reconsider everything that happened the last few months, to reinterpret every sentence, every movement, every situation.

It wasn't only the present that was twirling insider her head, but also the past. Thoughts kept rearranging themselves, and yet it never stopped. Her whole mind was in an uproar.

Her mind was the one thing she usually trusted must, and yet right now, it wasn't being helpful, not at all. It was shuffling, whirling, making her head ache, her stomach twirl.

She was mad at her mind abandoning her like that. And yet she couldn't focus on the feeling of being mad for too long.

On and on and on it went. On and on. For three hours.

It was then that she got up with a sigh. Her mind was in as much a mess as at the beginning, but she wasn't getting anywhere. So she did something that was very rare for her, unheard of really: She decided to give up for that night.

She went into the tent, where he was already sleeping, and got down onto her bed. She tried to sleep, but her thoughts wouldn't leave her alone.

Feeling awkwardly guilty about it, she lost herself to daydreaming, picturing a future with Harry. She felt oddly happy at times, like she was on some kind of high, then confusion would take over again.

Her thoughts turned to Ginny, making her instantly feeling even guiltier. Harry and she had been dating before they left for the horcrux hunt. Yes, they were officially broken up right now, yet it was an open secret that that was Harry's way of trying to protect her.

But Harry would never show feelings towards someone else, if there was something going on with Ginny, he wasn't that kind of guy.

She kept herself from sighing. Things just didn't make sense. It was like she was trying to piece together some great puzzle, but somehow pieces of a second puzzle had gotten mixed up in the heap, and she had problems sorting out which ones were the ones that really belonged.

She kept turning and tossing for a while, trying to find some sleep, but her mind would not rest. Eventually, she lay there very still, admitting defeat in letting her mind keep running havoc.


Ron returned the next day. When she shouted at him, it wasn't only because she was mad at him; she was also trying to get rid of all her confusion. And for just a few moments, she succeeded and she finally felt normal again. Getting mad at Ron made her feel like things were back to normal, like they were supposed to be.

The days turned into a kind of blur then, with the horcrux hunt quickening significantly in speed. She was glad for the distraction, as some days, as exhaustion prevented her of thinking too much.

But there would always be that unoccupied moment, that moment when her thoughts would start to wander, to probe the same old theories again and again.

Every time they spoke there was that little flutter in her stomach, as she interpreted and overinterpreted every word that he said, every gesture that he made in her presence.

Maybe he was just as confused as her. Maybe he was waiting for a sign from her, just as she was waiting for one from him.

They started talking to another more and more. Long after Ron had gone to bed they would still be sitting outside, talking about nothing and everything. There would be moments when she thought something was about to happen, but every time, one of them would start talking again and the moment would pass.

At some stage she admitted to herself that she did have feelings for Harry. Otherwise, she wouldn't be thinking about it as much. Otherwise there wouldn't be that weird grin on her face when she daydreamed every once in her while or that odd flutter in her stomach, that made her feel both sick and nervous.

It didn't quite make things easier. Even if she now thought to know what she felt, she still couldn't fathom his. What she would give to read his thoughts just once.

So she did try to flirt with him a little. But how do you flirt with someone you have known for so long? How do you flirt with someone if you were at the same time afraid that he did not return your feelings and that this would change your relationship.

She started touching him a little more, a little brush of the elbow there, a brief touch of the hand there. And there were times when she thought she noticed signs of his to. Putting his arm around her when they sat down one night. Looking at her a little longer than usual.

But she wasn't sure. Never sure.

Things had been pretty straightforward with Victor, the same way they had been between Harry and Ginny.

But with Harry things weren't easy, as much as she wished they were.

There were times when he made some offhand comments about Ginny and their past relationship. What he treasured in a relationship – trust, understanding, common interests – and what he hoped for in the future. She always wondered whether he wanted to tell her something when he did that. But she was never sure.

She hated that she didn't know what he was thinking, what he was feeling. If he just told her outright instead of using these roundabout ways. Things could be so much easier.

But to be fair she did no such thing either. And maybe she was just imagining all these things anyway.

On and on and on it went.


And when the war was drawing to a close, and Voldemort was defeated, and nothing had been resolved.

It was when he had just defeated Voldemort, when the two of them found themselves alone just minutes after that she expected something to happen. But nothing did.

And the moment passed. And she was mad at him that he had done nothing, that he hadn't leaned in and just kissed her. And she felt just as mad as herself that she hadn't just risked it for once.


When the war was over, everyone entered a mourning stage. The Weasleys gathered together closely, and she saw how much Ginny leaned on Harry. She felt jealous then, and guilty for feeling jealous.

So she did the one thing that enabled her to escape it all for a while. She went to Australia to recover her parents.

She told her friends it was too complicated to stay in contact, as owl post would take forever to Australia. It was just an excuse for her to get away from things, an excuse because she was still mad at him, and the fact that he didn't tried to convince her otherwise made her even madder.

So she decided to give up on whatever this was, to get it out of her head. To get her distance and remain friends.

And she eventually succeeded somewhat. In the beginning, she still thought of him a lot, but with time progressing, those thoughts faded.

But every once in a while his name would just unexpectedly pop in her head. She would be watching a movie, reading a book, and all of a sudden, a silent but profound 'Harry' would sound in her head.

She would get mad at herself at those occasions, but eventually she just got used to it and ignored it.


She got back three months later. She felt weird when she wrote her friends, but she wanted to see them again, not least of all to prove to herself that she had gotten over whatever there had been.

An owl flattered into the wizarding hotel she was staying in not long afterward. Harry had sent the letter, telling her that Molly invited them all to the rebuild Burrow that evening. That everyone was looking forward to seeing her.

His letter ended with "It's really been too long. I'm looking forward to seeing you again. Love, Harry."

There it was again. That little flutter she had thought she had gotten rid of.

Damn it. Four months for nothing. She laughed of the absurdity of it all.

And yet there was that hope again. And she felt sick for the rest of the day.


She arrived to the Burrow on time. It was as hectic as she was used to, and she felt comforted by the familiarity of it all, even though there was one head missing.

They caught up on everything that had passed those past few months. And she was consciously aware of the fact that Harry and Ginny weren't sitting next to each other and didn't seem to be dating.

She felt bad about it, yet she didn't take in much about the overall conversation. Her eyes kept gliding back to Harry, her heart was beating so hard she thought that someone had to hear it. She felt so silly, and yet she could not do anything about it.

Molly complained that she hadn't eaten enough, but she was feeling too sick to stomach much food. Her stomach was still in knots.

She helped cleaning afterwards and eventually everyone started settling down.

Harry and she left together. It was a warm summer night, and they started to get talking, as they always had. Sensing that neither of them was quite ready to leave yet, they wandered up to the nearby hill and sat down on a fallen tree-trunk.

She had to smile at the familiarity of it all. She had always loved talking to him, there was just so much they discussed.

And then there was that pregnant pause again, as they had so often witnessed it, that they had always passed over.

She looked over at him and swallowed. He had leaned in to her ever so slightly, but had stopped again and was clearing his throat. This again. The moment was about to pass as usual.

But for once, she didn't want that. For once, she decided that she had to try. Had to know. Because she couldn't accept never knowing.

So she leaned in towards him, her heart beating incredibly fast. Their eyes met as he in turn leaned in towards her.

Her eyes closed as his lips met hers. It was a sweet kiss at first, but turned passionate rather quickly. There were so many things she had never dared to say to him, so many things she wanted to capture and express in that kiss.

Her heart soared as they continued to kiss, his arms now tightly around her waist as she embraced his shoulders. Somewhere inside of her, a part was asking whether this was really happening, but she didn't really pay any attention to it.

All she cared about in that moment was the feel of his lips, the taste of his tongue, the feeling of being so close to him.

They had to break up for air eventually and they slowly separated, both breathing heavily. His expression was serious at first, somewhat unsure, her expression a perfect mirror of his.

His expression slowly changed into a large smile, the one he had first given her so many nights ago, and she broke out into a wide grin herself, her heart soaring even higher.

She briefly wondered what to say before finding that there were no words necessary right then, as their lips met again.

'They would be ok', she contemplated, for once her thoughts being clear , 'they'd been friends for such a long time after all, knowing both one another's virtues and less admirable character traits. There wouldn't been any surprises in that respect.'

And then, all of her thoughts disappeared once again, as their kiss deepened.

They wouldn't leave that spot until the sun started to rise the next morning.