Harry tossed and turned. How in the world did things ever get to be this way? Ginny. He loved Ginny, not Hermione. Hermione was a great friend, but he had never actually loved her. …Or had he? He sat up and got out of bed. Judging by the roller coaster of thoughts in his head, tonight was going to be a long, sleepless night.
Like every time he had trouble sleeping, Harry made his way down staircase of his house, opened the cupboard below it, and sat down inside. He then managed to reconnect the train of thought he had begun upstairs in his lonely bed. He knew he had always loved Ginny. Okay, not always. But one day he just looked at her and… it happened. But was that really love? Could it have been lust the entire time? Impossible. They had a family together. Three beautiful children and all those years of happy marriage couldn't have been built on lust.
But their marriage hadn't always been happy. Look at them now, for instance. Sure, Ginny told the kids that Harry had to stay home and work while they headed to the shore, but the truth was that the two needed to be apart, before the children saw what had really been going on between them. When did it all go wrong? Was it Lily's first day at school? Was it when James had gotten all of those owls sent home for behavior? Had it been when Albus was born? Or even before that? Were they ever really happy?
Enough on Ginny and their marriage. Something was wrong there, but he would never be able to tell just what it was until he figured out why Hermione ever even seemed to be an option. The two of them had always been just friends. Best friends, but… never more than that. Had Harry ever wanted more than that? Obviously at some point, he had…When was the first time? Harry sat up as his mind flew back to old memories until he found the exact moment. He remembered when he had gotten closer to his best friend than he had ever meant to. It was that night in the tent, 23 years ago, when they were looking for horcruxes. How could he have ever forgotten that night?