*Disclaimer: Pffft. Yeah. I'm JK Rowling, and I'm backing H/Hr, even after all called all the H/Hr shippers "militant". Ha! Jeez, if I was Jo, I'd totally re-write the last 3 books, anyway!
*AN: Whassup, whassup?! How is everyone? =] Welcome to my repost of Twisted Logic. I had to repost, 'cause I lost all my readers. It was purely my fault, of course. I stopped updating because I had a huge bought of writer's block and couldn't write anymore. But, all is well now. I kicked it awhile ago and have been writing like crazy. So, I just figured I'd start fresh!
For anyone who's read this before, it's reposted because I made a few changes. Some of them are slight, some of them are quite big, so I suggest you skim through the chapters at least to make sure you know what's going on. I don't want anyone to be confused!
Anyway, with having that said. I shall start! =]
Enjoy! ;]
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Chapter 1: Hiding Behind Something, Or Other
He felt like he was drowning. Almost as if he was stranded out in the ocean. Or as if he was on a roller coaster, spiralling downwards into nothingness.
How could he have let things go this far? He loved her, that much was certain, but she acted like she almost didn't even know his name. She was beautiful and he felt like a slug. A slimy, good-for-nothing slug.
Of course she didn't treat him like one but, when it came to love, she would always shun him away without even realising. He just felt like he would forever be stuck in the friends category. Nothing he did for her would be noticed, it was as if she was completely blind to his actions.
But, how could she be? She was the cleverest person he knew! There was no way she could've been blind to his attempts... unless of course she was ignoring them. That sounded much more plausible.
She would sit and watch with her chocolate eyes; wonder and mystery hidden within their depths. Her brown, curly hair would gently graze her shoulders, making her look elegant and gorgeous. Her smile was paralyzing, sending tingles up his spine and her voice was sweet music in his ears. He loved every little thing about her and yet she wouldn't give him the time of day.
She would never understand what she meant to him, because she was too busy with her head in the clouds. Too busy dreaming about what she could become, what she could do to help others. She was so selfless and didn't spend much time worrying about what she wanted out of life.
And so, he would have to find a way to make her see him in a different light. Find a way to get her to notice. He would have to go to drastic measures to please her in any and every way possible.
He would make her realise just how much he loved her.
He would not let her Twisted Logic get the better of him this time...
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"Harry, could you pass me that pen over there?" She asked, pointing to the kitchen table.
Harry sighed, "Here..." He walked over, grabbed the pen and placed it gently in her outstretched hand. "I don't understand why you have to do this today. Your speech on Elf rights isn't until next Wednesday." He mumbled in slight annoyance, his voice adopting a whining note. He gave her a pleading look, which she didn't even notice. She was too busy reading over her speech.
"Oh, Harry. You know I don't like leaving things until the last minute. It's very..." Hermione took the pen to her lips, biting on the end and looking up at Harry, as she tried to think of a suitable word. "Very, unorganised." She finished, nodding slightly with satisfaction.
Harry rolled his eyes as she looked back down at her speech. "I saw that, Harry." She added, not looking up.
He went slightly red, "Sorry, Hermione. I just don't see why you have to do this now. I mean, couldn't you do it tomorrow?" He continued to plead, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. A battle that he had lost at least two years ago.
"No." She said simply, "I have a meeting to go to tomorrow. Being a public speaker isn't all fun and games you know. I represent a peace-making organisation, Harry. I can't just forget to do something, or put it off until the last minute!" She said carefully, still not looking up from her speech. "Besides, it would make me look very unreliable, I can't have that."
Harry sighed, rubbing his fingers over his temples in slow circles. He tried hard to remain calm, but it wasn't working so far. She always did this. He actually went through the trouble of planning an entire day! He planned it a week ago. They were meant to go to the cinema and see a new film that just came out. He even booked the tickets!
But of course, as always, work got in the way. Two days earlier, an Elf Rights seminar was sprung on her and because she was the guest of honour, she had to write a speech. She had been toiling over it since she heard the news. She promised she would be finished in time, but of course, she wasn't.
Harry read the speech over and over, it was beautifully written. But her insecurities ate away at her during the night and she pulled it a part at the last minute and was now trying to piece it back together properly.
Thinking over exactly what he had to do to plan this entire outing annoyed him even more. If he didn't get out now, he might say things he would regret later. She just had no idea how hard he was trying and this frustrated him.
"No, Hermione. Not unreliable... human. It would make you human!" He finally muttered, a bitter note entwining with his words as he turned around in frustration and snatched his coat off of the nearest armchair. He pushed his hands roughly into the sleeves, draping it on his shoulders and zipping it up in one fluid motion.
Hermione finally looked up from her speech, "Where are you going? It's lashing rain, Harry."
"I think I'll go join Ron at the pub." He answered, the bitter tone in his voice still evident. His hand grabbed a hold of the door knob roughly.
"Oh, okay." She said quietly, furrowing her brow as she watched him go, shutting the door to their flat with a loud snap.
"I have no idea what's gotten into him lately." She muttered to herself, looking back down at her speech.
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"Haarrrry, what's up, mate?" Ron asked, patting him on the back as Harry sat down beside him in front of the bar, fifteen minutes later.
"What'll it be?" The bar tender asked immediately.
Harry looked at the pint of Heineken Ron was drinking. "I'll have what he's having." He answered. The bar tender nodded in understanding and went off to pour him a fresh pint of beer.
"Eh, good on ya, man." Ron nodded, speaking slightly louder than necessary, as he gave Harry a lopsided grin and took another swig of the golden-coloured beer. He was red in the face and his breath smelled of alcohol.
"Ron, mate, what'd you do to yourself?" Harry said, plugging his nose from the stench of heavy alcohol, as Ron breathed on him.
"Whaddya mean? I'm fine!" Ron replied, his words slightly slurred. He wobbled back and forth slowly on his barstool, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"No, you're not. Look, you finish your pint, I'll have mine and we'll go home, okay?" Harry said firmly, looking at Ron in the eye so he would listen.
Ron grinned again, an air of childish insolence and stupidity radiating from him. "Okay."
"Here you are!" The bartender smiled, placing the pint of beer carefully down in front of Harry.
"Ooh!" Ron said in the voice of a toddler, as if the bartender was handing out sweets. He took the last swallow of beer and slammed his glass down on the table. "Another one for me please!" He piped up cheerily, his words just barely distinguishable.
The bar tender looked at Harry as if waiting for his permission. Harry shook his head and mouthed, "Water."
The bar tender nodded and hurried off to get Ron a glass of water.
Harry took one look at his best friend and sighed, picking up the pint of beer and taking a drink.
"So, why'd you come down here? You haven't joined me at the pub in months!" Ron looked slightly hurt and offended when he reminded himself of this.
"Yeah, sorry about that. I just really haven't had the time and I've had a lot on my mind." Harry replied, looking down at the beer in his hand. He then smiled, looking up at Ron. "And besides, mate. I think you've been drinking enough for the both of us. You really need to stop coming here so often."
"Aw, but I like it here!" The red head whined, his childish air still present.
"Yes, but this place is like a second home to you. That's not good, Ron. It's not healthy." He replied, keeping eye contact with him still, grasping at Ron's attention.
A glass of water was placed in front of Ron and he stared his nose down at it. "I asked for beer." He said bluntly.
"Ron, it's water. Just, drink it. You need to clear your system." He advised, taking another long swig of his beer, trying to finish it as quickly as possible so they could leave before Ron went into a drunken temper tantrum.
"But... I want beer!" He whined again, looking at Harry pleadingly.
"Ron, just drink it, please?" He looked back, just as pleading. He took yet another swig of his beer, using his other hand to nudge the water in front of Ron.
"But, I don't WANT it!" He raised his voice, knocking the glass out of the way gently. Some of the water sloshed out of it and onto the wooden counter.
"Ron!" Harry said firmly, pushing it back carefully in front of him.
"No!" Ron raised his voice another octave, pushing the glass out of the way. The force of his push cause it to tip over, empty itself of its contents and roll off of the bar, smashing on the floor.
Harry groaned in frustration. "Sorry, man. Here..." He said to the nearby bartender apologetically, pulling out a twenty pound note, as he finished off the last gulp of his beer. "Does this cover everything?" He looked at the man carefully.
"Yes, it does my son. Thank you." He replied politely, looking at Ron and tsk-ing.
"No problem." He nodded in his direction, getting up from the stool and taking Ron firmly by the elbow. He literally had to drag him away from the bar. "Come on, Ron. Let's go home."
"Bye-bye, beer man!" Ron said loudly, so the whole pub could hear, waving like a little four year old. Harry restrained himself from rolling his eyes as he continued to pull Ron firmly by the elbow, heading for the door. He felt like he was the father and Ron was the son. It wasn't the best feeling in a case like this.
If Mr. Weasley had been there at that moment, Harry was sure he wouldn't be pleased.
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"Oh. My. God. What happened to him?!" Hermione asked frantically, rushing to the door as Harry dragged Ron over the threshold.
They looked a right mess, having been caught in one of the heavier showers and spending twice as long getting home, because Ron kept looking at all the pretty lights in shop displays. Not to mention, he scared a little kid, caused a woman to hit him repeatedly with her hand bag and nearly got hit by a bus, all because he was acting like a monkey from the zoo. But of course to top it all off, there was a puddle on the side of the road and a car ran through it carelessly, splashing them from head to toe in muck and dirty water.
Needless to say, Harry was not a happy camper. Unfortunately, Ron was too intoxicated to care.
"Oh HERMY!" He grinned, running to Hermione and opening his arms wide, trying to hug her. She screamed, seeing how wet he was as he came toward her.
Harry had never seen her run so fast in heels. She flew, around the kitchen table, weaving in and out of the wooden chairs as she made her way around the island counter. Ron stopped on the other side of the counter and looked at Hermione with a pouty look on his face.
"Huggieee!!" He whined. He seemed to be getting younger and younger in his speech patterns. Harry wouldn't have known the difference between him and a two year old who was new to the whole speech process.
"How much did he have to drink?!" Hermione asked nervously, keeping an eye on Ron so he didn't decide to sneak up on the other side of the counter.
Harry sighed, walking over casually and sitting down in a wooden chair surrounding the kitchen table.
"I wouldn't know, I only got there at the tail end of it and stopped him from having another pint." He muttered in exhaustion, talking more to the table than Hermione. He clutched his forehead, letting it rest on his upright hand as his elbow rested on the table.
"Oh." Hermione said carefully, still watching Ron. Her lips formed the word and Ron pointed and snickered.
"Oh." He said, imitating the way her lips looked. Then, suddenly he ran around the left side of the counter, causing her to yelp in surprise. She rushed over to the opposite side, her back now facing Harry. She called to him over her shoulder.
"What are we going to do with him? He's such a handful when he's like this!" She called to Harry pleadingly.
"I don't know, what we always do I guess. Calm him down, sober him up... " He continued in his 'barely listening' voice.
"We really have to get him to stop drinking...ah!" Hermione yelped again, running around the left side of the counter now, as Ron tried another fruitless attempt at catching her. "Can you please get him to stop?!" She looked over at Harry for a second. She then remembered she had to watch Ron and turned back to him swiftly.
Harry sighed in annoyance, standing up from his spot at the table and placing a hand on Ron's shoulder.
"Come on, Ron. Sit down." He said, gripping his shoulder with more firmness and steering him back to the table.
"But, I want a hug!" He said, sounding put out, but following Harry none-the-less.
"Hermione will give you a hug when you're dry, okay?" He replied slowly, as if he was speaking to a baby.
"Okay." Ron said cheerily, grinning like a toddler as he sat down beside Harry at the table.
Only a few minutes passed. Harry began to get antsy. Hermione sat down at the table with them, looking across it at Harry, who was trying as hard as he could to look at anything but her.
"Actually, lets go to bed, Ron." He said, getting up from his chair suddenly. He couldn't stand sitting there under the gaze of Hermione for much longer. She was staring at him as if this was the last time she would get a chance.
Ron groaned, "Aw, do we have to?"
"Yes, Ron. Come on. You need to get over the massive hangover you're going to have, some how." He spoke, his voice firm. He was subtly demanding authority, again acting like a father figure.
"Alright." He looked over at Hermione and waved cheerily. "Bye Hermy!" He grinned, getting up with Harry and walking down the hall to their bedrooms.
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After about forty-five minutes, Harry returned to the sitting room, to witness something he hadn't seen in weeks. Hermione was lounging out on the couch, watching some TV.
He smiled as he watched, all his annoyance forgotten. She looked so peaceful and... normal. She looked more at home than she had in months. He stepped into the room with caution, as if he didn't want to be heard. He knew that if he was, she'd turn back into her uptight self.
But of course, all good things come to an end. As he came in one of the floor boards squeaked, startling Hermione.
"Harry! You scared me half to death." She said, looking over at him and clutching her heart in surprise. As Harry suspected, she sat up a little straighter, patting the seat beside her to give him some room to sit.
Harry obliged, sitting down beside her and staring at the TV automatically, as if she wasn't even there. He figured, he would play her little mind games. Make her wait for his attention, seeing just how well she could try and grasp it.
"Harry?" Hermione looked at him carefully, speaking quietly, her voice humble.
Oh no, I see,
A spider web is tangled up with me.
And I lost, my head,
And thought of all the stupid things I'd said.
Harry turned to her and could have died on the spot. She looked so solemn, so trapped. He had never gotten a proper chance to look at her eyes, until now. She looked tired and broken. She looked as if she could have just dropped right on the spot and fallen asleep with ease. More complex feelings were found in the depths of her eye, but she blinked, hiding them away carefully. Harry hated to see her like this.
"Yes, Hermione?" He asked her politely, watching her carefully. He was staggered by how unmasked she looked. He blinked a few times, giving his eyes time to adjust.
"Have I..." She paused, her voice starting to crack. "Have I changed?" She continued.
Oh no, what's this?
A spider web, and I'm caught in the middle.
So I turn, to run,
And thought of all the stupid things I'd done.
"Changed in what sense?" Harry asked slowly, watching as she put the remote down on the coffee table and turned to him completely.
"I don't know. Have you just seen any major changes in me?" Hermione asked, in her 'fishing for answers' voice.
When Harry heard that voice, he knew that any little thing he said or did was being carefully analysed in the eyes of Hermione. He knew she always tried to solve any problem by observing things around her. At that moment, he had to be honest, he didn't want to be up for observation today.
"I really honestly don't know. I mean, you've become a bit of a work-a-holic. But, I'm assuming that's because you love your job." He shrugged, tip-toeing carefully around what he was really going to say.
In layman's terms; he sugar-coated his reply.
I never meant to cause you trouble,
I never meant to do you wrong.
Oh, and if I ever caused you trouble,
Oh, no, I never meant to do you harm.
Hermione watched him carefully, doing more 'observing'. She studied him up and down, as he waited with baited breath for a reply.
"So, you think it's only a small change?" She finally answered, still watching him carefully.
"I don't really know that either. I mean, I haven't had much time to talk to you properly over the last few weeks. This could all just be me, in the end." He spoke, almost as if he wasn't controlling himself. As if he was sitting outside of his body and watching the whole thing. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing one way or another what she was trying to figure out.
They both knew he was lying. He could see it in her eyes that she didn't believe him.
Oh no, I see,
A spider web, and it's me in the middle.
So I twist, and turn,
Here am I in my little bubble.
"Harry, please don't lie to me." She said bluntly, staring deeply into his bottle green eyes.
He sighed, mixed emotions turning in his stomach. He didn't know whether to be offended by the fact that she was talking down to him like a little six year old, or curious as to how she knew he was lying in the first place. He thought about it and he decided to settle on anger.
She wants the truth, eh? I don't even think she can HANDLE the truth!
His facial features became slightly bitter. His mind was reeling, his thoughts were running amuck. The annoyance he felt hours before began to take over bit by bit. "What makes you think I'm lying?" He said calmly, in spite of himself. He never broke eye contact, he was going to play her mind game and win.
"Because, for the simple reason being, you're not putting much heart into your answers. You're never like this, you're never afraid to speak your mind, Harry. You just seem like you're holding back, am I right?"
Singing out,
I never meant to cause you trouble,
I never meant to do you wrong.
Oh, well, if I ever caused you trouble,
Oh, no, I never meant to do you harm.
"Hermione, can we do this another time?" He spoke in the same blunt voice, sighing in annoyance. He didn't want to have this discussion with her. Not now, not ever. He was in no mood to argue with the woman he loved.
"Just, tell me what you were really going to say!" Hermione's voice rose slightly, in frustration. She looked at him, seeming agitated. She never liked it when her 'observations' didn't go as planned.
"Why, Hermione? So you can read me like a book? Don't think I don't know what you're doing. You're trying to solve your own damn problems by observing me!" He answered back, matching her tone. He was fuming! How dare she make him answer something he didn't want to!
He was pretty much damned if he did and damned if he didn't. On one hand, if he didn't answer her questions, she would be mad. On the other, if he did answer her questions, and truthfully like she wanted, she would still be mad!
"That's not what I'm trying to do!" She spoke firmly, sounding highly offended. Her voice cracked under the lie, giving her away almost immediately. To any normal person, this would go unnoticed. But Harry caught the slight change in pitch and wanted to grin in her face. Now they both knew she was lying.
They spun a web, for me...
"Like hell it isn't!" He muttered angrily in reply. "Fine, you want a truthful answer Hermione? I'll give you one!" He practically yelled. He stood up, looking down at her carefully, his face now red from emotion. She made him so mad sometimes! She really did drive him crazy. She spent the whole day rushing around doing things for other people, yet she never made time for her friends. Then, her excuse was that she liked her job and wanted to keep it. WHO on earth would have the courage to fire her in the first place? She was high up in the place she worked!
Hermione froze, staring up at him, not knowing what to possibly say.
"You're scared." He said bluntly. He waited to see if she'd respond, just so he could cut her off.
When no reply came, he continued anyway. "You're scared of anything that isn't routine. You're scared of being spontaneous! But, to top it all off, you're scared of love." He added, seeing how she would react to that.
"What do you mean I'm scared of love!?" She piped up before he could stop her.
"Love is spontaneous, Hermione! But you wouldn't know the first thing about being spontaneous!" He yelled back, mustering up the nerve to really give it to her. He was going to let her have it. How dare she treat him this way and put him on the back burner! He was tired of playing second fiddle to her job! He was tired of his attempts going ignored.
They spun a web, for me...
"Yes I would!" Hermione replied in an enraged tone, standing up also. She edged her left foot back ever-so-slightly, scowling at him in the process. Her dainty hands crumpled themselves into menacing fists.
She was in her duelling stance, without her wand. Harry recognised it. He had seen her take this position many times when faced with Death Eaters or Dementors. He never thought she would face him, her body arching into this position. She looked graceful; fierce and beautiful. Even though he knew he should be frightened, he wasn't.
"Ha. Fine then, prove it to me!" He sneered back, keeping his face void of emotion. He would not show weakness, because if he did, she would have him.
And before he knew it Hermione had leaned in suddenly, pressing her lips into his with force, giving him a deep and passionate kiss. His lips tingled and he didn't fight her off simply because of the shock. His head swam. She was so quick, he couldn't stop her. But he couldn't enjoy the kiss, because he knew she didn't mean it. Reluctantly, he pulled away, watching her silently for a moment.
His fingertips gently touched his tingling lips, her mouth leaving fire on his skin. She kissed him. She actually kissed him. He shook his head, staring down at his feet against the white carpet, watching as his legs cast a shadow on the floor. The only light in the room was the television.
He looked over at her and watched as the television light danced across her creamy face. He felt a surge of lust in him and quickly wanted to lean over and kiss her soft, luscious lips. He knew he couldn't, though. He fought back the urge with every fibre of his being and concentrated on the fact that the kiss was false. She hadn't meant it. It was simply to prove a point. Finally, once he managed to gather his thoughts, he spoke, his voice quiet and calm.
"Don't toy with me, Hermione. Nothing was meant by that. You have to be spontaneous, through and through. You have to be tolerant, you have to be kind -" Harry's voice broke, "Just don't... don't toy with me."
"What do you mean?" Hermione looked at him, her voice soft as sincerity etched itself in her chocolate eyes. She was truly confused, what could he have possibly meant by that?
"Just, don't, okay?" He repeated, his voice breaking again. He stood up from the couch and looked down at her, an unfamiliar glint in his eye. "You always clung to what you knew. Your books, your cleverness. You always stuck to what you knew best... you always seemed to hide behind something, or other." He finished, turning on his heel and leaving the room.
The silence was deafening as he shut the door. She almost wished he'd come back and yell at her, just to rid herself of it. But he didn't, he didn't return that night. She was left to battle the noisy silence alone, lying on the couch as she waited for sleep, her thoughts eating away at her mercilessly.
They spun a web, for me...
(Coldplay - 'Trouble' From 'Parachutes')
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*AN: Hope you all liked it =] R&R, please!