I love half-term. More than anything in the world. Thanks so much to all who reviewed - I now have over 300 reviews for this story, and my goal was 250! Maybe I should move the goal posts...

My heart is ever at your service. - William Shakespeare

Contrary to all my hopes, but in line with all my expectations, Lily and the girls all continued to ignore me. Walking into Charms that afternoon was awkward. Lily and Katie were sitting together, Alice and Megs at another desk, and they were all studiously ignoring me, laughing together.

I hastily blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over my cheeks. Looking around, I walked slowly towards the front, putting my bag down and pretending to feel a lot more uncaring than I really felt.

Slowly, the classroom began to fill up, people whispering and glancing at me, estranged from my friends. It was difficult, but I managed to hold back the tears. A few minutes later, in walked the Marauders, laughing together and immediately capturing the attention of the room. Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and a very normal occurrence, James sat down next to me, Sirius and Remus on the desk next to me, and Frank and Peter behind us.

They carried on their conversation, drawing me in as they had at breakfast. I struggled to prevent myself crying (for what was the millionth time that day) as they surrounded me with their optimism and their laughter, protecting me from the censure of my ex-friends and the gossip of the rest of the classroom.

From then onwards, it became natural for them to sit down with me at meal times, make their way over to me in lessons, and join me either in the library or the Gryffindor common room in the evenings for homework.

At first, I was reluctant to put myself forward by going to sit with them, but either they would sit with me when they arrived, or pick up their stuff and move over to me, even ousting younger members of the school from their places. Pretty soon, it was natural for me to sit with them.

However, there were many occasions when they didn't have the same lessons, they overslept, or had James and Sirius had Quidditch practice in the evenings. On these occasions, I would sit alone, burying myself in my work in an attempt to ignore the loneliness which grasped me.

Four days after the argument, I walked into Arithmancy and sat down alone, at the edge of a desk for three. Lily and Katie walked straight past me when they entered, towards a desk on the opposite site of the room.

I began to study my nails, ignoring the whispers around me, until the clearing of a throat dragged my eyes up. In front of me stood the Donahue Twins, Isabel and Naomi, seventh years in Ravenclaw.

They were Purebloods, intelligent, and both extremely pretty, but had a sworn vendetta against Titia.

"Hey, um... Rose... isn't it?" One of them, Isabel or Naomi (I had no idea which) asked.

I nodded, disconcerted.

"Is it alright if we sit here?" The other one asked.

"Um... sure?"

"Great." They sat down, bright smiles on their faces.

I had no idea why they wanted to sit next to me. It's not like there wasn't room elsewhere, and in fact, now I thought about it, they had already been sitting a few rows in front of me to the right.

"I'm Naomi by the way, Naomi Donahue. Just Mia's fine though. And this is Isabel, but again Iz is fine.

"Um...You can't really shorten Rose to anything but "Ro", which I've never liked, so Rose is fine." I put in, feeling obliged to say something.

"Rose it is then. So how are you finding NEWTS? Stressful? Difficult? Completely mind boggling? I have to say it's all three for me."

"Yeah," Agreed Iz, "Though what I find most annoying is that I don't have enough time to do the stuff that I want to do, like reading for pleasure, and watching movies."

"I know." I agreed quietly. "What do you like to read?"

"I'd have to admit, very shamefully that my guilty pleasures are trashy romance novels, although I do have a soft spot for the Bronte sisters."

I smiled for the first time in the last four days not in the company of the Marauders.

"I love Jane Eyre. Particularly the bit when Mr Rochester is trying to persuade her to stay: I think writing is absolutely beautiful. Plus Mr Rochester, in my imagination at least, is someone I wouldn't mind being stuck in an elevator with."

"I know! He's like masculinity-on-a-stick in the nineteenth century. Have you seen the film?" This was Iz again.

"I haven't actually. Though I love the BBC adaptation of it: the one with Toby Stephens."

"I love that version! Particularly the bit with the charcoal painting Jane does of herself; I think it's prettier than the water colour she does of Blanche Ingram." This was Naomi.

We continued in this vein until the Professor walked in. For that hour, I could almost forget that my old friends all hated me. Almost.

Iz and Mia accompanied me to lunch, inviting me to sit with them, which I did so. I continued to sit next to them in Arithmancy, spending some evenings in the Ravenclaw common room and eating about half of my meals with them.

During that time, I was constantly surrounded by the Marauders, or the Donahues, who had all taken it upon themselves to keep my mind off things. It worked partially. I still felt pangs whenever I caught sight of my ex-friends, studying in the library, eating in the lunch hall, learning in lessons, or hanging out in the common room, or whenever something reminded me of them: a book, a joke, even a spell.

But instead of my days being one constant ache, I was only interrupted by these pangs, the sadness a few times an hour, and the boys or Iz and Mia would soon divert my attention. It was only when I lay down at night, when I had no friends, no work, no nothing to distract me that I gave way to my tears, and vented all my pain and sadness into the isolation of my pillow.

I felt pathetic. I was pathetic, I know. I hated myself for every drop of saline spilt; every stifled sob; every sharp pang of loss. My friends hated me, yes, but why couldn't I just get over it, and enjoy spending time with my new friends, who were much better than my old ones. Who stuck by me, even though they knew what I had done to my former friend. But it wasn't the same. As lovely as Iz and Naomi were, as great as the Marauders were, they weren't my best friends.

Not the ones who had known me for the past 6 years, who had got into trouble with me, then out of trouble, who had cried with me when I got my first detention, who I had cried with when their grandparents died, who had stayed up all night with me to finish potions, who had been right behind me as we snuck around the school in the dark, who had stood up to Slytherins with me, who had always been there.

Except for now. And the problem was, I didn't even think that what I did was that bad. Sure, Lily had a right to be miffed, but this angry? It baffled me. And still they continued to give me the cold shoulder, to ignore and reject me. If I had been a different kind of person I would have got angry at their treatment of me, demanded an explanation, stood up for myself. But I was Rose, I was pathetic, I was soppy, and I cried myself to sleep every night over people who hated me.

Soon enough, however, the air in the dormitory became stifling. When I finally managed to drag myself into the dorm, dreading my reception, whatever conversation was going on would stop, and I would change into my pyjamas, clean my teeth and get into bed as quickly as possible, so as to curtail the piercing stares and deafening silence that echoed round my head long after I was safely ensconced in the bed, the hangings drawn and a silencing charm cast.

I took to sleeping on the sofa in the common room, staying up till the last persistent worker or revel-maker had gone to bed, and then I would change into my pyjamas in the girls' bathroom down the corridor, before snuggling under my duvet and silently crying myself to sleep.

I would wake early, when the first Gryffindor was up, and get changed for the day until the Marauders came down and we went to breakfast together. I got a lot of work done: usually the common room was clear by about midnight, so I worked till then, and the first Gryffindor got up at six, so I worked until the Marauders came down.

I was exhausted, but exhaustion was good: it made the world more blurry, the pangs less sharp, made me less aware of being ignored and gossiped about all at once.

Two weeks marched on, until the Saturday Quidditch game took place against Hufflepuff. I cheered for Gryffindor along with Remus and Peter in the stands. That night, there was a party in the common room, in which I spent most of the time huddled up against the cold windowsill, hoping the party would end soon so that I could go to sleep.

I must have fallen asleep in my corner at around 1 am, against all probabilities, with the loud music blaring, and the icy glass against my back. In my dreams, I was running after a snitch with Lily's face on it, but I had no broom, and the snitch was flying further and further into the sky, out of my reach.

Then suddenly I was flying without a broom, levitated gently into the air by some unseen force, a cool breeze brushing around my legs. A few minutes later, after some whispered incantations, I was high enough to reach the clouds, settling into the fluffy warmth which cuddled me. The snitch had disappeared.

I awoke the next morning in my bed in the girls' dormitory, cosily tucked up. I stretched, snug in the bed, before I was hit with confusion. I didn't remember going up to bed last night. There was the party, and then my dream... I must've fallen asleep. So had someone levitated me up to my dorm?

But the bed didn't smell like my bed. It smelt weird – a spicy masculine scent. My heart began to hammer as I sat up in bed, and jerked back the hangings.

I was greeted with the sight of a very messy dormitory. Across from me, James lay half on his bed, his head hanging off the side, looking adorable without his glasses.

Remus was curled up on his side, Peter was lying flat, spread-eagled across, and Frank at the end was snoring gently. Which had to mean...

I was in Sirius Black's bed! I scrambled around in the bed, catching sight of the time, which was 11:02, later than I had slept in until in two weeks. There was no sign of Sirius. Where had he slept?

I pushed back the duvet and set my feet on the floor: I was still in my clothes, only my shoes removed, for which I was very thankful, although the underwire of my bra was digging into my back. Though considering the alternative, I gave a sigh of relief. Walking to the end of the bed, I almost tripped over a lump on the floor.

Or not so much a lump as a person. Sirius was lying on the floor, nothing underneath him, his head on a pile of clothes and wrapped up in a cloak. A warm feeling came over me as I realised what he had done: not only had he carried me up to his bed, rather than leave me to be drawn upon and hexed, and woken up at six in the morning by some idiotic early riser, he had given up his bed for me, and slept on the wooden floor, without even a pillow or a duvet.

He stirred slightly, and I scrambled back into bed, not wanting to be caught standing over him, watching him sleep with a foolish grin on my face. Once back in bed, I gave way to the exhaustion of the little and disturbed sleep I had had, and fell back into my dreams, ensconced in the knowledge that someone cared for me.

Awwww. So cute. Unfortunately, something might happen to put a spanner in the works of this budding relationship. Until next week, EllieBaby xxx