Here's an update:

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The party had ended hours earlier, but Harry was still stalking around Hogwarts. He figured it was not the best night to be angsty and out of bed, considering that everyone else was probably out of bed as well, so he couldn't show off by being out of bed. He practically stomped around the corner, running into Filch. Though Harry had left his invisibility cloak in the dorm with a "fuck it all" attitude, Filch apparently didn't notice.

"Yeah, that's right. Keep walking, I'm having inner turmoil here. It doesn't matter that I'm out of bed after curfew, I'm sulking," He yelled after Filch.

Gods, now where did I put my poetry book? Here it is, he thought drawing it out of his underpants. Now lets see, lets start with some anguish... how about "No one knows how I feel because I'm The Boy Who Lived." That sounds good. Wow, I'm a genius. This shit should get published. Did I see Cedric tonight? Oh, wait he's dead... but I'm sure I saw him. Huh, well I'm gonna have to investigate that. Maybe it's another philosopher's stone or opposite of the vei... Harry did not get to complete his thought as he ran smack into the back of Snape.

"JESUS CHRIST, Potter!" Snape was talking into a mobile phone, and put his had over the receiver.

"God dammit, Potter, you're going to have detention for the rest the year. Stay right there, I need to finish up this call."

"Yes, Master, things are going well. Yes, we will kill the Potter boy this time. Yes, that was him you heard run into me. Yes, you can speak with him," Snape sighed as he handed Harry the phone.

Harry took it, "Potter, inc. What up?"

"Harry, baby, it's so goooood to hear your voice. I'm off on business, just wanted to say hi. I also wanted to tell you that I have plans to kill you, so that might put a strain on this relationship. "

"You can't kill me! You are... were my teacher! And I'm shagging you!" Harry started crying, all the inner anguish coming out.

"Yes I know, I can't kill you. Though I'm going to try, but I won't kill you. I'm just going to try, sweetheart. What else am I supposed to do with my time besides disappear to obscure places that sound dark and eastern Europe-y and plot to kill you? It's just plotting, plus do you really think Luci could kill you?"

"Luci?

"Lucius Malfoy, he's such a darling. You'll have to meet him sometime, he's a blast. Narcissa makes the best cookies... but I digress. How's school?"

"It's pretty good. The new schedule is hard to remember. I've been writing some poetry, you wanna hear?"

"DO NOT SUBJECT ME TO THIS!" Snape unexpectedly bellowed.

"Ahh, well I don't think I can. I'm in a bit of Barney, actually. So I'll talk to you later. Can I borrow Snape's phone to call you sometimes?"

"Of course, Dumpling. I want to hear from you soon."

"'kay. Ttyl!"

"Kisses!"

"He is such a sweetheart," Harry informed Snape.

"Get the hell out of my sight, this never happened, Potter."

Harry ran out of the dungeons and into the garden. He needed to speak to Dumbledore, apparently Voldemort was trying to kill him again. This situation could potentially be nasty, considering Voldemort's close friendship to Dumbledore. This would require careful thought, and endless planning. He assumed Dumbledore had gone off with the people he picked up at his party, so it would have to wait until morning.

He cried again over Cedric's death, and an hour later pondered seeing him at the party again. He then remembered Sirius.

"OH SIRIUS," he wailed into the night. "I'VE GOT TO FIND YOU, I KNOW YOU'RE NOT DEAD."

He picked himself up off the garden bench, and walked into Malfoy. What's with walking into people tonight? He thought as he groped Draco.

"Hey Potter."

"Sup, Malfoy. I heard your mum makes really good cookies."

"Don't you dare insult my mother!"

"I'm not, Voldemort told me."

"Oh."

"Yeah... you wanna make out?"

"No, I just saw some kinky shit doing down in my dorm, and I think I need a little time to get over it. Pansy, Greg, Weasley, and Granger were all playing strip bondage poker. I need some time to calm down."

"Dear god, are you serious? This is just not on. Fraternizing with Slytherins... I'm speechless."

"Hold me?"

Harry patted Draco awkwardly on the back while trying to grab a feel.

"God Potter, I'm going through a crisis. I just saw Weasley naked, and you're trying to grope me. It's extremely distressing! Can't you think of anything else!"

"Hmm, not really. Hey, did you see Cedric Diggory at the party?"

"Umm, yeah, I did. He looked a bit under the weather."

"Yeah, it's probably just the flu going 'round, you know."

"True, though going to a party with the flu, I don't know what he's playing at. He's going to get everyone else sick. Honestly, no consideration for anyone else."

"I know, that was pretty selfish of him. Well, umm if we're not going to shag, then I'm off to bed."

"Ah all right then," Draco yawned, "mind if i join you?"

"Not at all."

The next morning, Dumbledore was at his normal post at the head table. Snape was looking angry as usual. McGonagall... impeccable. No trace of her late night adventures. The Inquisition was eyeing the Hufflepuff table conspiratorially. Seamus and Dean had lit another camp fire under the table, this time Ginny decided to join them. After last night, Ginny had basically stopped wearing clothes, just the Hogwarts hat and scarf. Fred and George were singing in a barbershop quartet with Marcus Flint and a member of the Inquisition named Jorge De Asturia.

Harry and Draco had fought yet again that morning. Harry had awoken to a pair of blue eyes peering in through the hangings of his bed.

"Can I help you, Ron?" Harry said in an annoyed voice.

"Umm, yea. I mean, this is probably kind of awkward. I mean, I don't have any reason for thinking this. But I mean, homosexuality isn't really that uncommon in the wizarding world. I mean, I'm probably bisexual... that's not important. It's just, Herm and I haven't really seen you with any girls... and the last girl you liked... well. Wet just isn't something you'd describe a kiss as, mate. Sorry, I don't mean to be rude or anything, I just wanted to let you know that we can always talk if you need to. Umm,"

"Ron, I'm not gay. Jeez, does it look like I'm gay?"

"Well, not really. Come to think of it, I thought I saw you flirting with Lisa Turpin yesterday. Huh, yeah sorry about that. I don't know where that came from."

"Yeah," Harry said. I don't even know who the Lisa Turpin is... He thought. "I'm glad you've come to your senses."

"Me too, mate. Is that Draco Malfoy in your bed?"

"Umm..."

"HARRY! You should have told me. We could have had an inter house slipover. Goyle and Pansy could've come too. It would've been loads of fun. Did you guys play poker too?"

"No, erm, yes. Yes we did. The whole night."

"Well, mate, tell me next time, and we can have a slumber party. It'll be loads of fun. See you at breakfast."

Ron stumbled out of the room in his boxers and headed down to breakfast. Draco was still sleeping, so Harry nudged him.

"Potter, I'm sleeping."

"In my bed, I want breakfast. Out. Now."

"Excuse me?"

"Malfoy, I want to go the breakfast. You can't sleep here when I'm not here."

"Damn right I can. I can do whatever I want. My father is a school governor again, it doesn't matter where the hell I sleep."

"How did he do that? Get your mum to make some of her 'cookies'?"

"Don't you talk about my mother like that you rancid Gryffindor fruit bag."

"You're impossible, and... and, and if there was a way to get Sirius back you wouldn't let me do it! I know it, You'd make me not do it!" Harry yelled and stormed out.

"Sirius Black? Isn't he my mum's cousin?" Draco asked the seemingly empty dormitory.

Just then, Seamus and Dean open the hangings on their bed. How their bed could fit the Spanish Inquisition is beyond me... actually no. It's sort of like that spell for the tents during the Quidditch World Cup. Glad I could clear that up for you.

"Umm, actually Harry's been bitching about that for a while. His godfather died or some shit. No one really listens, sometimes it seems like he's going crazy with these plots to get him back. I just wish he'd shut the bloody hell up and plot some other time than when we're going to sleep," Dean explained.

"Ahhh, that explains a lot. Do you mind if I join you?" Draco queried.

"Not at all, not at all," Seamus replied.

Just as Draco was getting into Seamus and Dean's joint bedding arrangements, Harry came back upstairs.

"You bastard, one argument and you're already in somebody else's bed."

"Well, you drove me away. You were always mean to me," Draco sulked.

"ME? MEAN TO YOU? NEVER. You were always the one insulting my dead mother!"

"Oh come on, you know I never meant it. Can't you take a bit of joking? This is exactly what I've been telling Dean and Seamus. You're so uptight." Dean and Seamus were nodding sympathetically.

"Malfoy, You're a filthy, cheating git. I want nothing to do with you. I wash my hands of this. Seamus, bring me some water."

"Umm, Dean and I drank the rest after a rather tiresome threesome, sorry mate."

"It's no problem... I'll do it at breakfast.

Later that morning, Harry Potter stood up on the Gryffindor table and dumped a pitcher of water over his hands. Since he couldn't get both hands at the same time while holding the pitcher, he had Colin Creevy do it. No one knew what was going on, since Draco, Seamus, and Dean were missing from breakfast.

"I hear he's been chilling with Dumbledore a lot," said Pansy Parkinson.

"Yeah, that explains a lot," replied Goyle.

Goyle was also an under appreciated genius. He was currently writing his third symphony, and his undiscovered genius and hidden sophistication was what kept Pansy interested. Later that evening Hermione and a truculent Ron would join them to listen to old phonographs in his dorm room and sip champagne, while discussing the effects of the Industrial Revolution in Russia at the turn of the 17th century. The developing theory of Marxism, and it's impact later on would also be addressed.

Crabbe took one look at Goyle and fled from the room in tears. Apparently his and Pansy's relationship was voted 'most likely to continue after Hogwarts' in the yearbook this year. The past yearbooks had been canceled because the attacks from Voldemort had halted the production. This year, Dumbledore made sure the yearbook would be coming out.

"Speaking of Dumbledore, listen up Millicent this concerns you or rather your mum, I saw him running off with your mum and several others. I believe your father was amongst them. No one's seen them since," Pansy leaned in, whispering.

"Yeah," Blaise ejaculated, "There's rumours they rode horses off into the sunset."

"You can't be serious," said some unimportant sixth year Slytherin, "It's never been done with that many people before."

"Yes, it has."

All the Slytherins in the conversation turned to see who had just spoken. It was Dumbledore. He was sitting in between Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zambini, eating a large steak.

"I did it last night. Keith was there, weren't you, Keith?"

"Yeah, I was," Keith emerges from under the table, followed by Madame Pomfrey, a dementor (which caused Harry, who was still standing on the Gryffindor table, to feint.), a random witch (who turns out to be Millicent's attractive mother), Millicent's father, and Madame Rosmerta.

"Well Ladies and Gentlemen, we must be off. Ta!" Dumledore waved, pointed at Colin Creevy, glared at Colin Creevy while pointing, and then exited.

"Well that was entirely unexpected," Neville summed up, though was ignored because people thought he had committed suicide already.

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In the next episode:

Will Harry and Draco make amends?

Will Goyle's soiree go as planned?

Is Millicent's mum really as fit as mentioned?

Did Lucius Malfoy really glue his hand to his leg with Gloober's Unbreakable Gluing Solution?

All that and more coming up in Chapter Eleven