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Can We Still Be Friends? by gwendy
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Can We Still Be Friends?

gwendy

"Can We Still Be Friends?"

Chapter 3: "Twists of Fate"
by: Gwendy

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters are the property of author J.K Rowling. This fanfic uses but does not stake claim upon any of the characters so don't sue me!

Warning! This fanfic depicts a Harry/Hermione ship or Harry/Hermione love team so if you're not comfortable with this couple, please discontinue reading.

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Two days have passed. For Harry Potter, it seemed like two long weeks. He had isolated himself from everyone in the Burrow, most especially from Hermione. He rarely came out of the room he and Ron shared, a fact which made the Weasleys worry. Ron had tried more than once to ask him what was wrong; but one hard glare from the scarred wizard was enough to shut him up.

Harry stared down at the letter he had gotten the day before. It was a total shock to him and everyone in the Burrow. He never thought he'd hate receiving it. He had wanted it once but with the way things were, he felt like burning this piece of parchment; but of course, that wouldn't change anything. The letter had come from Hogwarts. Apparently, he had been instated as the new prefect, taking over Ron's position. It is good news...except for the fact that Hermione also received a letter announcing her extended term as prefect. That meant they were going to be together almost all of the time...and that's not exactly good.

A loud crash disturbed Harry from his reverie, followed by Mrs. Weasley's loud wail: "Fred! Stop with those experiments already! George, don't you dare try that Instant-Earthquake-in-a-Can! Go back to work! Reparo!"

Harry pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and put the letter back in the envelope. The Weasleys were busy downstairs, preparing a congratulatory party for Harry and Hermione just like they did when Ron and Hermione became prefects. Ron was obviously disappointed with the news, trying in vain to steer every conversation away from the matter. He refused to help with the day's preparations but that was before Mr. Weasley forced him into doing something which made the freckled wizard even more frustrated: putting up the streamer which said "Congratulations, Harry and Hermione, Gryffindor's newest Prefects!".

"At least now he'll know how I felt!" Harry stood up from the bed and tossed the letter on the dresser. Even though he knew it was wrong, Ron's plight made him feel good. Quickly, he changed from his pajamas to his Hogwarts robes, pinning his prefect badge on his chest. With a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart, he made his way out the room.

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"I still don't understand why Dumbledore picked you for the new prefect," Ron thought out loud, for the fifth time it seemed. His voice sounded awkward...as if he were trying to stop himself from ranting and raving. He and Harry were pushing their trolleys towards the brick wall which lead to Platform 9 3/4 . The others were farther behind them.

"I mean, think about it. Everyone who's been chosen for sixth year prefect had gone through being a fifth year prefect," said Ron. "And you..."

"I was supposed to be the one chosen last year but Dumbledore said I had enough responsibilities as it is," Harry muttered through clenched teeth, quite fed up with his best friend's incessant babbling.

"Oh yeah?" Ron retorted in a somewhat skeptical manner. "How come he chose you now, huh?"

"Come off it Ron!" Harry thundered, unable to hide his annoyance. "Just say outright how jealous you are especially of the fact that it's me who'll have more time with Hermione and not you!"

"I-I'm not jealous!" Ron thundered back, his freckled cheeks clearly showing a blush. "And how come you're suddenly mentioning Hermione?! Didn't you two have a fight?"

"A fight?" Harry stopped dead in his tracks. "Who told you that?!"

"Come on! Everyone could see how you two wouldn't even look at each other during the party...and you were sitting side by side!"

"Just...just shut up, Ron!" Harry made a dash towards the entrance of the platform, avoiding any more confrontation. For the brief moment he was engulfed in total darkness, Harry recalled what had taken place a few hours ago, back in the Burrow. It had felt awkward for him, to sit and poke silently at his food while everyone laughed, cheered, and clinked their Butterbeer bottles together. What was more awkward, was sitting right beside Hermione at the front of the table. She had eaten very little and spoke very little but never to Harry.

The loud whistle coming from the Hogwarts Express startled the young wizard, almost causing him to lose his balance. The platform was filled with students as well as some parents, bidding goodbye to their children. Most of the sixth years were already in the train, some, like Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, waving at him from their compartments.

"Hello, Harry," A fifth year student with straggly, dirty blonde hair came bounding towards the wizard, her necklace of Butterbeer corks bouncing around on her neck.

"Oh...uh...hi, Luna," Harry greeted back, quite flustered. He didn't exactly enjoy company with his weird friend and he doesn't really want anyone to see him hanging around with her either.

"Congratulations on making prefect," Luna Lovegood smiled, her pale eyes scanning through the sea of students. "Where's Hermione? I wanted to show her this but since you're here, I'll show you first," Luna took her wand, which she had tucked behind her ear and tapped it on her chest. Suddenly, a bright neon sign appeared on her cloak which said "Congratulations, Harry and Hermione!"

"Neat, huh?" Luna asked, tucking her wand back on her ear. "Oh! Oh! Hi, Ronald!"

Ron and the others were slowly emerging from the wall. Ron grimaced when he saw the sign on Luna's cloak but managed to put on a small smile.

"Uh...yeah. Hi Luna."

"You must be so proud, having your two best friends as prefects," Luna said dreamily, her eyes fixed firmly on Ron. "Probably as proud as Harry was when you and Hermione were prefects."

"Yeah...whatever," Ron rolled his eyes and stormed towards the train. Surprisingly, Luna seemed to have discarded her shy side and tagged along with Ron.

"I've saved all of us a compartment. We could travel to Hogwarts together again like we did last year," Luna continued, walking ahead of Ron, practically pulling his trolley along with her. This sight made Harry snicker.

"What's so funny?" Ginny asked, giving Harry a puzzled look.

"Nothing," Harry lied, his short moment of amusement disappearing.

"Well then, you better put your luggage away and start your rounds. Hermione's already giving out orders."

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The compartment Harry shared with the others was full of chatter, mostly coming from Ginny, Luna and Neville Longbottom. Hermione was "still doing her rounds" which left Harry and Ron the only quiet persons on the small enclosure.

"My Mimbuius mimbletonia has gotten to big for me to carry around," complained Neville, who was sitting on Harry's left.

Ginny, who was sitting on Harry's right, leaned over to Luna and whispered, "I hope it gets bigger then."

Luna let out a loud laugh, drawing everyone's attention including a startled Ron, who was sitting beside her. She tried to stop laughing by holding her breath but instead, ended up snorting loudly. This made everyone laugh.

"I certainly hope you're not talking about me," came a sinister, drawling voice Harry knew all too well. All five people turned to face Draco Malfoy, who was leaning against the compartment's entrance, his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle, standing behind him.

"Because if you are," Draco continued, settling his steel gray eyes over Harry, "I will be forced to imply certain consequences."

"Stop bugging us, Malfoy!" Ron fumed, his face turning red hot.

"Oh," Draco snickered. "And what are you going to do to me, oh demoted one? Potty here's taken your place! Isn't that right, Prefect Perfect Potter?"

In a flash, Ron was out of his seat, his wand ready and aimed straight at Malfoy's face.

"You just shut up, for once! Haven't you had enough of being turned into the disgusting, slimy slug you are?!" the redheaded wizard threatened menacingly, his pale fingers curling tightly around his wand.

"Transforming me again, are you?" Draco smirked, an air of arrogance around him. "Do you know the punishment for hexing a prefect? You're lucky I didn't snitch on you then or else every single one of you so called D.A. members would've been expe--"

"That's 'coz slugs don't have vocal chords, you nitwit!" Ron yelled. "Besides, I know you were scared that we would--"

"Ron, please stop," a small, soft voice spoke. All of them turned to stare at Ginny, who was looking directly at Draco. Draco stared back at her. Silence engulfed the compartment before Slytherin's prefect finally broke the ice.

"Well then..." he cleared his throat, running his hand over his silvery blonde hair. "I have an important task at hand. Later, Weasley."

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"It's you who'll be picked as Quidditch Captain, Harry. I just know it," Ron commented as he and Harry touched down on the Quidditch field after a day of practice. A week has passed since they arrived at Hogwarts. Today was the day that a new captain for the Gryffindor team will be picked. Ron seemed genuinely happy for Harry, as their differences were settled after the whole episode on the train with Malfoy.

"Maybe," Harry smiled, striding towards the court's exit. "I just hope those Slytherins don't make a song about me."

"Yeah," Ron snickered at the memory. "But it worked to our advantage, didn't it? And speaking of Slytherins, have you noticed that Malfoy hasn't been pestering us anymore?"

"You should just be thankful for it," Harry yawned, fatigue slowly taking over him.

"I mean, sure I am...but it's strange," Ron's red brows met in the middle. "Remember on the train when he said 'Later, Weasley'? I have a feeling that he wasn't referring to me."

"What do you mean?"

"Usually, he pounds my family name as if it were profanity...or calls me Weasel instead of Weasley."

"Well, we never can understand that git now can we?" Harry wiped a bit of dust that had attached itself on his Firebolt's handle.

"Uh...Harry," Ron started in an unsure tone. "How are things...between you and Hermione?"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. He had completely forgotten. The job as prefect and the excitement of Quidditch had taken his mind off a lot of things including that matter. That's when he truly realized how much Hermione had been avoiding him. He hadn't seen her all week long. In fact, he hadn't seen her on the train either.

"How's she doing?" Harry asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Same as usual," Ron sighed. "Always in the library, silent, irritable...and she's faltering a bit on her prefect duties," he tilted his head side ways to see his best friend's reaction but he was only met with the back of the scarred wizard's head. "Why don't you two sort out whatever your problem is? Or perhaps you should tell me what it is. Maybe I could help?"

"NO!" Harry cried vehemently, startling his tall, freckled friend. Immediately, he changed his tone. "I...I mean, no," he tightened his grip around his Firebolt. "It's something Hermione and I must deal with. N-nothing personal," Harry quickly added after seeing Ron open his mouth to speak. "But trust me, Ron...you're better off not knowing."

"Fine," Ron stated glumly. "I'll just go finish practicing on my moves. Katie Bell said she'll be coming here any moment with the others anyway. See you, mate!" he gave Harry a pat on the back before flying off on his broom.

Harry slowly made his way to the castle. Walking away from the Quidditch field felt like waking up from a dream and back to the harsh world of reality. How was he ever going to make things better between him and Hermione? She hated him now. And sadly enough...he still loved her.

"I'm such an idiot!" Harry raked his fingers across his messy, black hair. He hated himself...probably even more than Hermione did. But what can he do? If Sirius were alive, he would've turned to his godfather for advice a long time ago. The thought of Sirius's death made him even more frustrated. He was just about ready to hex anyone or anything.

"What do you care if I'm against it?! I'm pretty sure everyone else will be once they hear of it!" roared a voice Harry couldn't help but recognize. He turned to the source. A few distance away was Hermione, standing firmly on the ground as if she were glued to it, her back towards Harry. Quickly but silently, the young wizard moved in closer, settling himself behind a tree. It was twilight then, the dark shadows making him invisible. Making sure he was still concealed, Harry dared a glimpse. Hermione was confronting three people, two of which, were holding the person in the middle by his arms.

"Crabbe! Goyle! Let go of me, you two baboons!" Draco hissed, struggling to free himself from Crabbe and Goyle's tight grip; but the two boys didn't look defiant, dominant or angry. They looked scared...scared of what their friend might do next.

"I swear, Granger!" Draco spat, his face contorted in anger. "I swear! If you tell anyone..."

"I'm not going to let this continue, Malfoy!" Hermione yelled with as much intensity in her voice. "I'm not going to let you hurt anyone, least of all my friends!!!"

"Hurt...? HURT?!" with a sudden burst of strength, Draco managed to free himself from his two friends and in a flash, slapped Hermione so hard that she fell on the soft earth. "That's what you call HURT! And I'd never do anything like that to HER! Is that what you all think?! That I'm nothing but a monster?!"

Harry gaped at a whimpering Hermione kneeling on the ground. Anger such as he'd never felt before rushed through his veins, making his blood boil. Without thinking, he emerged from his hiding place and violently tackled Malfoy.

"You sniveling snake!!!" Harry shouted, giving a hard and poweful blow on Draco's jaw.

It was a bloodbath. That was the only way it could be described. Each punch from the two boys contained all the hatred they've had for each other, fortified with the current events which led to the worst fight they ever had. Harry was deaf to everything but the voice of his rage; even Hermione's pleas for him to stop were to no avail. He hated Malfoy. Hated him so much he wanted to kill him. Just when Harry thought he had the upper hand, Draco came back at him, burying his fist so hard in Harry's stomach that it made him spit out blood. Harry's vision blurred. His head started to spin. Then he fell. His glasses lay in front of him, broken beyond recognition. He felt someone cradle his head. Hermione's tear-streaked face came into view. Then, everything went blank.

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Author's Notes: Okay, okay. Cliffhangers. Okay. And most especially, a lot of you are probably complaining as to why Harry should lose to Malfoy? Well...first of all, it's my fic and I get to decide whatever happens. Second, Harry's always winning. At least let Draco win for once. Third, it would totally change my story if I let Harry win and lastly, I assume Draco to be in more fights with other students than Harry ever had so Draco (in my opinion) has a bit more experience on that department. Hope nobody finds this offensive...