I am so sorry for not updating things sooner. I've had rather a stressful private life of late and I've had virtually no time to myself, let alone write. Coupled with the fact that my writers block still refuses to leave, dammit, it's been quite a wait and I can't apologise enough. Hopefully things should be back to normal soon. Sorry this is such a short chapter.

Thanks to my wonderful reviewers – MarsMoonStar; Inuyasha-lover601; Firesword, Re-writing Destiny; lupine flower; KatFay; Vicious Lily; padfoot-dreamer; Wonkywerewolf2; pixyfairy120; DeadAngel; A Typical Snarry Fan; Marilyn, My Bitterness; Enemy of The Lone One; anonymous; Debs; FlowOfBlackRoses and nightshadow1. Thank you so much for your encouragement and your patience.

And on another note,  reviews have now passed the 100 mark! I had no idea this little fic would be so popular so, once again, a great big THANK YOU!

And you lot, send your thanks to my friend Cory who was a MASSIVE help in getting this chapter started. Without her, there would be no part 10, and I am immensely grateful. Cory, you rock.  

*

"Don't be silly," said Hermione at once. "How on earth could he possibly know? You're just being paranoid."

"I don't think so," said Harry slowly. "That night we slept together, my scar started hurting."

"There could be any number of explanations for that. It's not the first time your scar's hurt, is it?"

"Well, no, but it's strange, isn't it, that my scar should hurt that particular night, and now Malfoy calling me that. . ." Harry broke off and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Well if he starts spreading anything you can deny it, can't you? I mean, it won't be the first time he's made stuff up about you," reasoned Ron, leading the way back up the stairs.

"Ron's right. Just ignore it, Harry. For all we know he only means that you're in contact with Snuffles, which in itself would be enough to get the Aurors on our backs. We'll deal with Malfoy if we need to, but we've got plenty of other things to worry about this year." Hermione started off after Ron. Harry climbed after them slowly, lost in thought. He was slightly perturbed that they weren't more shocked about the news about his scar hurting, but then it was more a less a common occurrence now. They'd probably be more surprised if I told them my scar didn't hurt, he thought morosely, and almost collided with someone coming the other way. He blinked, and looked up into Albus Dumbledore's kindly face.

"Ah there you are, Harry. I've been looking for you. Would you follow me, please?" Dumbledore asked softly. Harry nodded, told Ron and Hermione that he would meet them in the common room later, and set off after the Headmaster.

Harry seated himself opposite Dumbledore, who fixed him with a piercing stare. Harry fidgeted under his gaze and knew that Dumbledore knew.

"Harry" Dumbledore began, "I want you to know that what is going on between you and Sirius is your own business." Harry's gaze flicked to Dumbledore from where he had been examining the carpet. "Although I don't approve of it, I hardly doubt you would listen to me if I told you not to."

"But I . . ." Harry began, but was cut off by Dumbledore.

"Love him. Yes I know, and I do not doubt it, but please, Harry, be . . ." This time Dumbledore was cut off.

"Careful. Yes, I know" Harry grumbled, staring moodily at the carpet. "I've already had it from Tonks, Lupin and Hermione."

"I am sure I don't need to remind you of the importance of secrecy," Dumbledore continued as if he hadn't heard. "If the world found out, there would be an uproar. I would advise you to at least feign an interest in someone. You know what this school is like for gossip and rumour."

"Yeah, I know." Harry smiled grimly. "Professor, I . . ." Harry trailed off, unsure of how to broach the subject of Malfoy's cryptic insult from earlier.

"What is it, Harry?"

"I think Malfoy knows," Harry mumbled. Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and surveyed Harry over steepled fingers.

"What makes you say that?"

"He called me Dog-botherer earlier. And my scar hurt over the summer while I was with Sirius, and, well, you know Malfoy's dad is a Death Eater. . ." He trailed off again and shrugged.

"I am reliably informed that Voldemort knows nothing about your relationship with Sirius. If he does, which cannot be discounted, by the way, he hasn't mentioned it to his followers. It is likely that Mr Malfoy was merely teasing you – he knows, after all, that Sirius is your godfather. Is that all?" Harry nodded. "You may go. I will just say this once more – be careful! Not everyone is to be trusted. Be wary of who you confide in this year."

Harry thanked Dumbledore and headed back to the Gryffindor common room, his worries eased considerably by his conversation with the Headmaster. He settled himself into an armchair by the fire in between Hermione and Ron, who were playing chess, and told them what Dumbledore had said.

"I told you it was nothing to worry about," said Hermione breezily. She muttered an oath under her breath as she realised that Ron had beaten her again. She stood up and yawned. "I'm going up to bed. See you in the morning."

"Yeah, I'm going up too. Coming, mate?" Harry followed Ron up to the dormitory, also yawning. He did feel assured by Dumbledore's statement that Malfoy couldn't possibly know about him and Sirius, but he still didn't like the look Malfoy had given him.

Still, he reasoned, as he clambered into bed, Malfoy's just being a git, as usual. He doesn't know anything. He knows nothing.  The words echoed around his head as he closed his eyes, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.