First I want to say to all of you reading this that I'm sorry it took me so long to update. I had originally intended to post this much sooner but, alas, Life got in the way. I sincerely hope that you still will enjoy this next chapter despite its sever lateness.
Next, I just have to say that this is the shortest chapter in the entire story. Both part one,
and part two are merely little snippets before the story really starts to pick up.
Chapter Four Part 1: Dining Without an Explanation
Never explain--your friends do not need it and your enemies will not believe you anyway. –
Elbert Hubbard (1856 - 1915)

It didn't even take half the morning for Harry decided that boys, especially Gryffindor boys, were terrible gossips.

He stood just outside the Great Hall, hoping that the dull roar on the other side of doors was someone cleaning or fighting or even Death Eaters attacking, anything but the other students. He could just imagine what the other sixth year boys had been saying. None of it could be good or at least not good for getting him out of the trouble still brewing in Dumbledore's office.

Not that there was much hope of getting out of trouble anyway - that was pretty much obvious.

Still, as much as he wanted to avoid social contact he really didn't have much of a choice. There was no getting out of class and he had to eat sometime. Slightly more resolved, Harry pushed open the doors and entered the Great Hall.

His entrance had a ripple affect on the entire room, all conversations stumbled to a halt. One by one the other students turned to face him. Their faces expressionless, some with food halfway to their mouths. He waited for someone to speak, to break the eerie silence. Seconds ticked by and still no one moved. Harry sighed, something he'd been doing a lot of as of late, and grudgingly headed to where Ron and Hermoine sat eating.

All attention was on him as he made his way to his friends; the slap of his feet against the stone floor echoing in the silent room. He kept his head down not wanting to meet anyone's eyes, especially the eyes the professors that were now staring at him in disapproval. They'd heard about the girl, by now they'd have had too, and they obviously thought the worst.

"Harry," his head flew up as a familiar voice called his name.

"Yes," he blurted out as he made eye contact with an unhappy Hermoine.

"Is it true Harry," she demanded. Harry blushed and mumbled, what, under his breath but she ignored him as she rushed on, "Is it true that you had a girl in your bed?"

"Ah… something like that, yeah."

"I thought you were better then that Harry."

"No offense Hermoine," Ron ducked sheepishly into the conversation, saving Harry from the now seething girls' wrath, "but I've seen the girl and you really don't get much better then that."