It seems that yet again I have to apologise for the lack of speed in updating. I'm going through a bit of a creative block at the moment, it's a real pain in the backside but what can you do eh?

Thanks to MarsMoonStar, Moongirl, sa-chan5, Dead Angel, Suga hi, Firesword, lupine flower, padfoot-dreamer, wavey avey, Marie, blah, A.L. Lorraine, Edward Wong Hau, Re-writing Destiny, aurons-girl-18 and Vicious Lily. (if I've forgotten anyone, I'm sorry, I love you too!)

Onwards! I think I have to get myself a new muse . . . Anyone know of any that are going cheap?

*

Harry smiled contentedly as he gazed around the Great Hall. The last few weeks had undoubtedly been the best of his life, but there was still nothing like the feeling of returning to the place where you belong. The welcome feast was well under way and Harry grinned at Seamus and Dean who were sat opposite, and making lewd comments about Ginny Weasley that were causing Ron to choke on his mashed potato.

"Don't talk about my sister like that!" Ron bellowed, spraying bits of food across the table.

"Grow up, Ron!" laughed Ginny, as Ron started looking thoughtfully at the cutlery and Seamus' head. Ron swelled visibly in a way highly reminiscent of Mrs Weasley about to explode.

"I'm only trying to look out for you, Gin."

"I can look out for myself. You can't keep harassing every boy who even so much as looks in my direction."

"He'd have to hassle half the school," said Seamus in a loud whisper. He swore as a goblet sailed across the table and landed in his stew, slopping half of it down his robes. "Hey watch it, I can't help it if your sister's hot!"

"Ah, don't mind him," said Hermione with a wink. "He's just jealous because he's never had a girlfriend."

"I am not! I just don't see the point in going for the first person that shows an interest. How's Vicky by the way?"

"Half a Galleon they'll be together by Christmas," whispered Dean to Harry, as Hermione and Ron launched into another slanging match.

"Nah, first Hogsmeade weekend, I'll bet," said Seamus, as he finished cleaning the front of his robes. He looked up and flashed Harry a grin. "So how about yourself? Got your eye on anyone?"

"Erm, no, not at the moment," mumbled Harry, going red and bending low over his steak and kidney pie, his stomach squirming. Damn them, he thought, I can't tell them about Sirius, why couldn't they have waited until I'd thought up a convincing lie?

"What's this? The Boy Who Lived has no time for girls? 'Sorry, darling, love to stay but I have to go and save the world'? Why don't I believe that?"

"Nah, he's probably got some stunningly gorgeous Muggle girl hidden back home who thinks he's a spy for the Albanian government or something," laughed Dean. "'Oh, Harry, my love, must you go?' 'I must, my treasure, who knows what the pesky Germans are plotting?' 'Harry, be careful! I'm always so afraid when you go away that I'll never see you again!' 'I'll be back at Christmas, my love. Until then!'" The table roared with laughter as Dean finished his spiel, save Ron who was looking at him incredulously, with one eyebrow raised.

"You watch too many Muggle movies, mate," he said, shaking his head. "Bloody mental, the pair of you."

Later, as the feast ended, a commotion broke out on the Hufflepuff table. Harry, looking over, saw two girls apparently fighting over a boy. Professor Sprout hurried over to break up the scuffle and the boy – a seventh-year with long, dark curly hair and close-fitting black robes – caught Harry's gaze and rolled his eyes, smirking in the direction of one of the girls, who was sobbing hysterically and having to be led out of the Hall.

"Who's that?" he asked, nudging Hermione and gesturing in the direction of the boy. He couldn't remember having seen him before.

"You mean you don't know Davey Buxton?" squeaked Lavender Brown. "Oh, he's so famous, I don't suppose you've heard having to live with the Muggles and all, but he's a rock star! He's in this band, The Pure, they had a Number One song in the holidays and it stayed at the top of the chart all summer!" She sighed as she looked over towards the Hufflepuff table.

"I didn't think he'd be back this year ever since he joined the band but he's so committed to his studies, you know," added Parvati Patil. "He's divine!"

"He's an idiot," snorted Hermione. Lavender and Parvati glared at her. "Well he is. Half his songs are about the importance of blood, and the other half are about getting drunk and beating up Muggles. It's pathetic really."

"It's not the content of his songs that are important, Hermione," sighed Lavender exasperatedly. "He's gorgeous! And anyway he explained it all in an interview with Teen Witch magazine, something about going against the generic trash put out by old-fashioned and out of touch singers like Celestina Warbeck and wanting to shock the mainstream and all that."

"Like I said, he's an idiot," repeated Hermione. She, Harry and Ron joined Dean and Seamus as they joined the throng streaming out of the Hall. Harry felt someone tap him on the shoulder and spun round to see Davey Buxton smirking at him.

"Hey there, Harry."

"Hi," mumbled Harry, not knowing what to say; it wasn't as if they'd ever talked before.

"I'd just like to say I'm sorry you all had to witness that just now, but you know how it is with fame and all that, girls throwing themselves at you all the time. How do you cope with it? If you have any tips I'd be very grateful." He flashed Harry a smile as brief as lightning and strode away, leaving Harry gawking in his wake.

"I think you're right, Hermione, he is an idiot," he said at last. The crossed the Entrance Hall and had just started up the staircase when Harry heard a shout from below.

"Well look who it is! It's the Dog-botherer!" Harry groaned as Draco Malfoy's voice floated up to him, then froze as he registered what Malfoy had said. Dog-botherer? Does he know? How could he know? He turned and faced Malfoy, who was smirking up at him with Crabbe and Goyle, as usual, chuckling stupidly in the background.

"Oh, it's you." Harry turned to go but stopped dead when Seamus asked, "Why did you just call him Dog-botherer?"

"My Aunt Marge came to stay over the holidays," said Harry quickly, inventing madly. "Her dog, Ripper, doesn't like me and chased me halfway down the street. Although I would like to know how Malfoy knows so much about my private life." He didn't like the calculating, knowing look that Malfoy was giving him at all. How much does he know?

"Who doesn't?" said Malfoy cryptically. He turned and gestured to Crabbe and Goyle and they strode away, chuckling quietly to themselves. Seamus and Dean shrugged and went on ahead, but Harry felt as though his legs had turned to lead.

"What was all that about?" demanded Ron scornfully. "Don't know what he's talking about half the time. I swear if he tries any funny business this year . . . You all right, Harry?"

"He knows, Ron!" hissed Harry urgently.

"Knows what?"

"I think he knows about me and Sirius!"