Author's Note: I stumbled upon this One Shot that I wrote way back in 2007 and posted on another fanfiction site. I really like how it came out, but I never got any feedback on it, so I thought I'd post it here. Let me know what you think!

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Steam

Beauty Queen of only 18
She had some trouble with herself
He was always there to help her
She always belonged to someone else.

It had all started with that night. The sky was raging war with the asphalt, the droplets of precipitation used as artillery. The asphalt used its many colors to burn the rain into inexistence. Instead of explosions and gunfire, the natural silence was polluted with soft pitter-pattering and their muffled footsteps.

May had just pushed April into the past, so even though it was only 6:30, the street lamps cast a hazy light into the not-quite-darkness. It was May 3rd; May 3, 1978.

She was talking about some quy. There was always 'some guy' in her life. She went for the prissy types; the ones who were constantly trying to impress daddy and all of his ministry pals. I could instantly pick them out in a crowd. Their robes were perfectly tailored to fit their bodies, and, mind you, they only wore the best brands of robes. And we can't forget about their hair; perfectly parted on the side and combed down, with no strands allowed to go astray. It made him want to puke.

To these guys, Jade was the perfect show girlfriend. She was – God – breathtakingly beautiful. She had this curly black hair that would bounce along with her cheerful steps, and these eyes that had more shades of blue than I thought existed. And she was brilliant. You'd never know this unless you were intimately close with her, because she didn't like to show it. She graduated 4th in our class from Hogwarts.

She was also completely and utterly insane.

That night she apparated into my living room, interrupted my nap, and declared that I'd better get some pants on because we were going for a walk.

"What the fuck are you going on about…" I'd muttered, repositioning myself so as to ignore her more easily.

"Please, Si."

I remembered forcing myself to get up when I recognized the catch in her throat. "What'd he do now?"

As she went on an angry rampage about the horrible things her boyfriend did, I'd pulled on a pair of jeans and followed her to my own front door.

"Jade!" I'd interrupted as I caught sight of a window for the first time, "its pouring!"

"So? I'm already wet and I really need some fresh air. I think I'm going to burst! I can't deal with him anymore!"

"That's what you said the last time." Yet, I'd opened the door to let her pass.

"No, I really mean it this time!"

We had walked along the flooding sidewalk and within two strides my socks began to slosh and slush in my shows. The neighborhood had consisted of decent single-storied houses, mostly occupied by people over fifty. I liked the quiet.

"And I'm just so sick of his crap! I mean who does he think he is? Fuck!"

"Dump him, then."

"I know! I mean he acts all innocent like he has no idea what he's saying. And his sister, did I tell you about her? God, I swear she thinks I'm gunna milk him for all he's worth, which, between you and I, is nowhere near as much as he lets on."

I stopped listening, then. Every time it was the same.

Sooner or later she'd break it off with the guy, and within a week she'd be on to someone new. She would come to my house and proclaim that she met the "love of her life". I would point out that she's said this before, and she would snap back that "this time, it was different. This is for real".

It made me want to scream.

Then, the idiot would break her heart and she'd end up at my place, making me take walks in the rain in fifty degree weather.

"I just… shit, Sirius, I dunno what to do."

"Break up with him."

"It's not that easy…"

"Sure it is."

"What would I say?"

" 'Go screw with someone else.'"

"Hah, Hah."

"Or what about, 'I'm screwing someone else.'"

"Come on, Sirius, be serious."

And that's when I had kissed her. A little peck at first, but then I drove it home. Looking back, I don't know what made me do it. Her hair was wet and stringy, her mascara had gotten in her eyes and was making them blood-shot, her soaked shirt was clinging to the unflattering contours of her stomach, and I knew that nobody else would love her like I did at that moment. And god-damn it, she kissed me back.

So, why did I come home a week later to my single-storied white-walled home to find her sitting on my black leather couch, immediately telling me about the guy she'd just met at Gringotts? What, did she forget?

And I let her walk away with the impression that I was happy for her. As soon as the door closed behind her, I headed immediately to the liquor cabinet and added two shots of Rum to my coke, preparing myself to spend the night alone.

It took me a whole week to sober up and come to the conclusion that this was a test. She was testing me to see if I would end up like one of those guys.

So what did I do? I cleaned up real nice and apparated into her living room and walked right up to her, in front of who I assume, was the Gringotts guy, and I kissed her - long and deep. She stood there shocked, and he punched me.

I apparated home, and doubled the shots of rum in my coke.

I napped until the following afternoon, drowsed by my own despair and the alcohol running through my system. The good guy never wins. I went on for a week like that - sleeping during the day, drinking rum and cokes into the night. My friends would stop by and tell me to get off of the freaking couch but I always refused. My best mate's girlfriend, Lily, even poured coffee down my pants in an attempt to get me up, but the pain was welcomed and she, too, ended up leaving disappointed.

Then, June third arrived. An entire month since the day I'd kissed her. I thought it might be a good idea to shower, and when I returned to my loyal couch, who was I to see sitting there but her. She had tears in her eyes, and her hair was a mess.

"Sirius, Jonathan and I are over."

"Fan-bloody-tastic."

She sniffed and turned away, and I immediately regretted my coldness, despite all she had put me through.

"Si…" She turned around and ran to me, kissing me hard and with need.

Here was my moment. She was in my arms, not pushing me away.

But what do I do? I pushed her away. "I won't be your rebound." The hurt in her eyes didn't cause me as much pain as I thought. Maybe that was because it was the same hurt that was there after those other losers broke her heart. There was nothing more, nothing less. I was nothing more.

I left the living room and entered the kitchen, immediately pouring a glass of coke, this time skipping the Rum.

I was finally okay without her.