"Love is a given, hatred is acquired." - Doug Horton

November faded into December, bringing the white swirling eddies of snowflakes with it. As the final month of the year began, the customary mood of merriment permeated the castle. The decorations went up, and the festive season began. On the morning of one of my favourite days of the year, December the first, I awoke to the squealing delight of Katie, as usual up early only on this day, when she opened the first window on her advent calendar. Awoken from the groggy tides of sleep in an instant, I jumped out of bed and rushed over to my own advent calendar, to open the window and cram in the delicious square of chocolate that awaited me within. The groaning and moaning around the dormitory made me aware of the other stirring people still in bed, but in mere seconds the other two were up, ripping open the tiny doors and stuffing the chocolate into their mouths.

At this time, it was merely half-past six. Alice, the first to notice this, pointed it out to the rest of us, and it was Katie, the person up the earliest, who then exclaimed:

"Only half-past six! What are we going to do for the next two hours before lessons begin?"

She was answered as a pillow hit her square in the stomach, and Alice and I looked around to see a grinning Lily grab another pillow off another bed. She advanced towards Katie with that twinkle in her eye, which those who didn't know Lily would assume was merely an innocent sign of happiness. How wrong they would be.

So the pillow fight began. Three quarters of an hour later, panting and laughing, we all fell down into a heap on the floor, as feathers floated around us like the snow outside, one pillow remaining.

"I think we may need a few more pillows to sleep with tonight." remarked Alice.

"Really Alice?" countered Lily. "If we can't, who will have the last, surviving pillow?"

This comment induced a scramble as all four of us made a grab for it. It promptly split, showering us with feathers, and making it seem as though we all had a very bad case of dandruff.

"I think we solved that problem." quipped Alice. "No more ammunition."

As one, the other three of us turned on her and the fight began again, with handfuls of feathers scooped up from the floor, and handfuls of snow scooped up from the laden windowsill outside. An hour later, we surveyed the floor of our dormitory. It was coated in a thick layer of mushy feathers. We ourselves were not much better for wear, all of us sporting soggy stuffing, like angels caught in the rain.

It was Katie who realised the time.

"It's quarter past eight!" she screamed.

Thus the normal race for lessons began. Shaking damp feathers out of my hair, I scrambled out of wet pyjamas into underwear, tights and school uniform. I was ready first, closely followed by Lily, Alice, and finally Katie, as per usual. Dashing out of the dorm, we slung our bags over our shoulders and ran in to the Great Hall to grab the last remnants of breakfast. Munching on an apple, with some toast stuck into my pocket, I grabbed my timetable from my bag to check my first lesson. I then proceeded to choke with laughter upon my apple, as I realised I had the lesson that every single student at Hogwarts craves, and only sixth and seventh years are lucky enough to get. A free period.

Waving goodbye to the others, who had Care of Magical Creatures (Alice), and Arithmancy (Lily and Katie), I made my way, still chuckling, to the Library. I polished off my apple and toast on the way, and after carefully concealing my toast in my bag, so as not to bring the wrath of Madame Pince, the mad librarian, upon my head, I entered the Library and sat down at the only free table, near the left wing of the Library.

I had done all of my assigned work to be done on that day. I do realise that this sounds like I am a swot, which although I most likely am (alright, I admit it, I am!), I did have an excuse that day. Having been set an inordinate amount of homework, including essays, charts, graphs, translations, and whatever else the teachers seek to plague us with, I had handed it all in on time, which had been earlier in the week. Perhaps it was a feeling of Christmas spirit, or merely sympathy for the wan looks that haunted the faces of the better part of the student body, the teachers had forborne to set us anymore. For which I was extremely thankful. One thing I was finding out about sixth form was that it wasn't easy. Coming back to school after doing my OWLS, I expected an easier ride for the next year, but no. No. It was mountains of work that the professors laid upon us, as heavy as the books that strained our arms and the bags that bent our spines.

However, upon this glorious Thursday morning, the first of December, having no such work, I got out Persuasion, by Jane Austen, and began to read. I read for the next half an hour, the lessons being an hour long, until I was interrupted by a persistent giggling emanating from my left.

I attempted to ignore it, but the high pitched titter was more than I could stand after a while, so heaving a sigh, I laid down my book.

Rounding the towering bookshelf to my left, I came upon a sight that made me want to bring up the scanty breakfast I had wolfed down. Pressed up against a bookshelf, his tongue duelling with hers, was Sirius Black - breaking one of the Hogwarts rules of kissing in the Library. Feeling the slight pang that always accompanied the sight of Sirius Black engaged in any such activity with any girl, I began to back away.

However, Sod's Law once more decided to play a role in my life. I made the rookie mistake of not looking behind me. In most films, people who back away are often tripped over by something behind them. It is a rule of life. If you are trying to sneak out of a place backwards, whilst not looking behind you, you will fall over something. Anything. The cat that your neighbour bought yesterday. A table. Another person. The air. Your own feet.

It would seem like a cliché move to be edging backwards and trip over something, but I realise now why film scripts and directors use it so much. They are trying to get across to everyone that people just aren't meant to walk backwards. That's why our eyes are on the front of our heads: so that we can see what is in front of us. If we want to walk in the opposite direction from whence we were just going, we turn around. Unfortunately for me, it would seem that this subliminal message had not yet caught on.

So yes, you guessed it, edging backwards away from the guy I most certainly had no feelings except dislike for, who was kissing a girl, who for all I could care he could kiss until the cows came home, I tiptoed backwards into their bags. The grunt of surprise and the thud I made as I hit the ground certainly startled them enough to break away from each other and focus their attention on me. I supposed that I should have felt flattered that they would break away from the intense kiss they were sharing, to focus their attention on me. Unfortunately, my feelings of shame overwhelmed any such feelings of flattery.

Thinking quickly, I grabbed abook off the bottom row of the shelf next to me and began to leaf through it.

"Aha. Got it."

The seventh year Hufflepuff kissing partner nodded in understanding, but from Black's cynically raised eyebrow, I could tell that he didn't buy it. Well, I could raise one eyebrow too (a talent that Lily often envied me for.) Pulling myself to my feet whilst clasping my book, A Study of Grass, by Herr Bacious, a German writer from the look of it, I got to my feet and raised my left eyebrow right back at Black.

"Can I help you? Or would you just like me to go and find Madame Pince? You seem to be rather lost. This is a library, not a romantic love tunnel ride."

"Oh, I was just going." The Hufflepuff stepped around me and grabbed her bag from the melee I had left beneath me.

"Do you like grass, Rose?"

"Hmm?" I replied, turning my attention back to Black.

"I asked – 'Do you like grass?' " he said again, gesturing to my book. Looking down, I blushed scarlet as I realised what this looked like.

Rallying, I replied:

"Yes. I happen to find it very interesting. More interesting than other things, so if you'll excuse me…"

I turned, and began to make my way back down the row.

"You are not excused." His voice rang out behind me.

"Pardon?" I quipped confused.

"You asked me to excuse you. You are not excused. At least, not yet." He made his way towards me.

"It wasn't really a question." I countered, turning on my heel to continue on my way.

"Really isn't the same as wasn't." With this he grabbed my wrist

"Well thank you for the lesson in English, but I really must be getting back to my table. As stimulating as I am finding this conversation, my book is waiting for me, and will not be happy with me if I don't return soon." I tried to tug my wrist out of his hand, but he held firm.

"I'm sure your book can wait a few more minutes. However, I'll let you go if you acquiesce to my request."

"And what is your request?" I counteracted, adopting the same formal tone that he was using.

He smirked that smirk, and then leaned in slightly towards me, as if to bestow some secret upon me.

"Go out with me, Loganberry."

I couldn't believe his audacity. Not five minutes after his licentious liaison in the Library, he decided this would be the best time to ask me out! At least Potter has the decency not to embrace another girl merely moments before embarking on one of his annoying pesterings of Lily. And he was leaning in towards me, the oldest trick in the book. Like I was going to let him come anywhere near me with those lips that had been only just covered in that Hufflepuff's saliva. It made me feel sick to my stomach.

"I think perhaps, Black, that given the recent situation, you may understand why this time, I am refusing you."

He cocked his head on one side, smirking gently. Then, shaking his head a little, so that his silky hair fell into his eyes, he released my wrist and bent down to retrieve his bag. Glad that the whole ordeal was over, I made my way finally to the end of the bookcases, to come out into the main section of the Library. I could hear Black, behind me, most likely sauntering. I refused to look back. My attention was caught by a fearsome spectacle.

Professor McGonagall was storming her way across the Library floor, lips pressed tightly together, young face lined with a scowl. Black and I stopped in front of her.

"Yes, Professor?" questioned Black.

She looked down at him, as if noticing him for the first time, and then brought her attention back to me.

"For once, Mr. Black, it is not you who is in trouble here."

Uh-oh.

"Miss Logan, would you kindly explain to me why the floor of the sixth year girls' dormitory is covered in soggy feathers?"

Ah.

"Well, professor, I suppose… we had a pillow fight? And I suppose there was snow involved."

"Right." She nodded. "So, you and the other Gryffindor sixth year girls embarked on a snowball and pillow fight this morning, like four small, uneducated children, escaped from the watchful eye of their mother?"

My shoulders rose up, and I hunched myself up whilst still trying to fix my eyes on her face, though I could not meet her gaze.

"Yes?" I almost (but not quite) squeaked.

"Right." she repeated. "Detention, for all four of you, at 8pm tomorrow evening. I have to say I expected better from all of you. All of you. Most especially you, Miss Logan." With that quelling speech, she marched off out of the Library.

Great. Detention. It wasn't that I hadn't had it before; the others and I, but most especially Lily and I, had been rather adventurous in our younger years. It was just that I didn't enjoy scrubbing cauldrons, cleaning shields, or sorting through supplies as an evening activity.

I was brought out of my reverie by the barking laugh of Black, who was clutching his stomach next to me. I rolled my eyes. I think we could all tell who the people who acted like unattended children were in this school. It wasn't anyone in the younger years.

Thank you, EllieBaby xxx