Today was the day. I was finally going to jump Sirius and be done with all this moping and inner turmoil. I was just going to say "To hell with it" and just take him to bed where he belonged.

Well originally that was my intention. I really did intend to shag his brains out that day. It's just that my plans didn't go as well as, well, planned. I mean, how the hell was I supposed to know that all of a sudden Sirius was going to start playing the protective, perfect boyfriend card?

I tried to start this whole thing innocently enough. I just sauntered up to him and informed him that we needed to work on our Muggle Studies project. He told me that he really couldn't be away from Ali for that long. What the fuck? Since when did he give two shits about how long he was away from his girlfriend? I mean, he was cheating on her with multiple women for Merlin's sake! And all of a sudden he just can't part with her for an hour or two? What the bloody hell?

Maybe it had nothing to do with Marren. Maybe he just didn't want to spend time with me. Maybe he just didn't know how to say it without hurting my feelings. Maybe it as all just a ploy to keep himself away with me. OR maybe I was just reading way the hell too much into this.

Over the next few days I was beginning to know why he wasn't up to leaving her alone. She wasn't herself. It was different than before. I mean, she wasn't any more like herself but it was a different kind of not herself. Instead of being numb she was just angry all the time. It was becoming a common sight for her to start screaming over nothing, throwing snippy remarks at everyone for the smallest of things. I don't know what had gotten her knickers in a bunch but she was making the normal PMS bitchiness look like a bloody cakewalk.

I understood that Sirius felt responsible for spending time with her to make sure that her rage wasn't unleashed on innocent, unsuspecting bystanders but I needed his time. It wasn't just to further my agreement with Marren, I also needed his help with the damn Muggle Studies project. During my little episode of inner battling over Riley vs. Sirius I'd been avoiding him, which resulted in a lack of progress in the academic department.

Eventually I had no choice but to confront him about it. I decided to do it before breakfast, hoping that maybe I could catch him before he was fully awake so he'd more likely to do whatever it took to get rid of whatever came between him and food. It was hard to catch him when he wasn't with Marren or at least the other Marauders. When I saw him alone I began to notice how worn out he looked. He looked like he'd been training for a marathon 24/7. He looked absolutely exhausted.

"You alright?" I questioned as I caught him leaving for breakfast early. "You don't look so good, mate."

He gave me a small, tired smile, "Just a little tired." It actually reminded me a bit of the smiles Lupin gave out whenever somebody asked how he felt after one of his numerous ill trips to the Hospital Wing. It made him look so… old. He looked like he was about to start spreading white hairs and start walking with a cane or something. He didn't quite have the wrinkles yet but he just look worn out like he was spread out too thin.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news but we still have half of our Muggle Studies' project still to do," I told him, feeling mildly bad about giving him something else to worry about when he was obviously in over his head. "We really need to work on it."

He sighed and nodded, "I know. I'm sorry that I haven't been around much to work on it with you. I – erm I might be able to get away for an hour or two after dinner tonight to work on it. I'll let you know?"

I knew I was being dismissed from the conversation. I couldn't really blame the bloke. He was hardly standing as is. "Yeah, just let me know."

He gave me another one of his Lupin-esque smiles, "Thanks Cherry."

I spent the rest of lessons that day contemplating why he looked so tired. Was he staying up all night partying? Did Marren start putting out and they stayed up all night shagging all the time? No, if they had then she probably wouldn't have been so angry all the time. Maybe he found a new mistress who had a strenuous daily sexual regiment. Was mistress even the right word? It made it sound like he was cheating on his wife. He and the Puff weren't married. Hell, they were hardly in a functioning relationship. When I slept with him eventually would I be considered a mistress too? Well, maybe that really wasn't the right word. That definitely wouldn't be the word they'd be using when everyone found out about Sirius and I. I'd be the "other woman" or the "slag who couldn't keep her legs closed" if it were one of her fellow Puffs talking. Anyways compared to what they were going to call me the term "mistress" would seem mild.

Whatever seemed to drain Sirius of all his energy appeared to have struck the Puff's mates. They all looked like they haven't gotten a proper night's sleep in weeks. Bags under their eyes and glazed over looks were pretty standard between the lot of them. It must have been Marren who was responsible for this change in appearance. Even Evans, who was debatably (and sadly) one of the most attractive girls in the school, didn't have her usual shine. I couldn't quite put my finger on what exactly had changed the group dynamic so dramatically but I knew the change was there.

Sirius and I managed to escape away to the inner alcove of the library, pouring over a few textbooks that could possibly have information about Muggle motorbikes. Well, I was reading and Sirius was staring at the cover of a book with his eyes glazed over. "Earth to Sirius," I waved my hand in his face, causing him to jerk back in reality. I decided to test his attention skills, "So you excited for the Qudditch match against Slytherin this weekend?"

He didn't even nod or shake his head let alone verbally acknowledge that I'd spoken to him.

"What's going on with you? You're spacier than usual."

He shook his head, as if he could try to shake off whatever had a hold on him, "It's just Ali. You know what? Never mind. I'm sure you don't want to hear about it."

Oh he couldn't have been more wrong. I very, very much wanted to hear about it. "Come on, pet, I know you want to rant your spleen out. Trust me, I won't judge. Just let it out."

He buried his head in his hands, something I took as a good sign, "Ali's… Well she's recovering from a bit of a dependency on Calming Draughts."

"Oh." Yep, that definitely made sense. Calming Draughts were highly addictive and withdrawal would account for why she seemed so angry all the time and it also made sense why before she'd seemed so numb.

"And I feel so bloody guilty for not realizing sooner! Even bloody Remus had an idea before I could even put two and two together and she's my own girlfriend! I had no idea how fragile she is! What if this is all my fault? What if the reason she started taking those damn potions in the first place was because of me? Now I've got an addict girlfriend and I don't know what to say or do to make her feel better and everything I try just makes matters worse!" he ranted. "I'm officially the world's worst boyfriend."

Well, considering the fact that he was cheating on her with multiple women I couldn't necessarily in good conscience tell him that he wasn't in fact the world's worst boyfriend. I thought about telling him that at least he didn't beat her but that just seemed like a stupid and awkward thing to say. "First of all, it's not your fault. Ali Marren is just an anxious person. She suffered from anxiety before you two started dating and she could have started taking Calming Draughts even if you two had never started dating. Secondly addiction is a hard topic. I've – Well, I've known quite a few addicts in my day and there's never the right thing to do or say. You just have to be as supportive as you possibly can. Also, Remus Lupin is just an observant person. It's part of his personality so don't feel the need to compare yourself to him, alright? Now, if you want I can try to give you some suggestions about what I've known to help some people to recover from their addictions. I've never quite met a Calming Draught addict but I'm not surprised. There's a reason Pomfrey keeps that stuff under lock and key."

"You'll help me?" He looked at me with these adorable hopeful gray eyes that I had no chance of saying no to.

I nodded slowly. Well, it looked like our Muggle Studies project wasn't exactly going to get any attention right then. "How big of a dosage is she taking right now?"

"Well she's recovering so she's off it," he pointed out as if it were off it.

"You're making her quit cold turkey?" I questioned, shaking my head at his ignorance. "Worst idea ever. She's dependent on it. You have to wean her off it. If you try to take her off it all at once she's more likely to relapse. I suggest starting to cut down on her usage until finally she doesn't need it anymore."

"Wow, how do you know this stuff?" he inquired, apparently amazed by my knowledge on addiction recovery.

"My older brother was addicted to cocaine," I answered, somewhat stiffly. "He went through two stints of rehab before he finally overdosed and nearly died. There's something about a near death experience that suddenly makes you put everything in prospective. Anyways, he's two years clean now but it was rough there for a while."

"I didn't even know you have a brother," he commented, obviously not really knowing how else to respond to my little session of opening up. "Actually I've never really heard you talk about your home life."

I shrugged, trying to distract myself by unfolding one of the textbook pages' corners, "There's not much to tell. Once you hear about one pureblood family you've heard about them all. Typical bullocks."

"I'd still like to hear about it," he told me in a softer tone. I'd once heard him use that sort of tone on Ali when she having one of her anxiety fits. It was the kind of voice you use on someone fragile. I'd never been treated like I was fragile. I'd always been more addressed as someone sturdy, rock-like. I suppose they don't assume that many girls with cherry red colored hair who had a tendency to have the look on their face like they could beat the shit out of a trucker would ever be delicate.

"My parents are second cousins, apparently my family thought that inbreeding would help keep their blood pure or something. Their parents were also second cousins, just like their parents were before them. I guess the problems first started when I was five and stopped believing the whole bullocks about purebloods being better than Muggles or Muggleborns. Sometimes I'd pretend to agree with them just to keep the peace but when I was eleven and broke the family tradition by being sorted into Gryffindor it was the straw that broke the camel's back. My family casted me out. I – erm – I spent some time on the streets after First Year, staying place to place. Eventually the innkeeper at the Leaky Cauldron took pity on me, offered me a job as a cleaning witch in exchange for room and board during the summer holidays.

"My brother, Wen, sought me out a year later after he graduated from Hogwarts. He was a Slytherin too, though not quite the die-hard that his classmates were. He offered me a room in his flat but I wouldn't take it. I didn't forgive him for letting my family cast me out when I was a First Year. When I was a Third Year when I started to get a reputation. I didn't have Wen there to keep the fear of Merlin in me and I had years of rebellion built up. Hell, I can remember the day I dyed my hair red. I thought Evans was going to start convulsing when she saw it. Anyways it was shortly after that I started getting called Cherry. I was thankful for it. I always hated the name Clara. Wen used to tease me about it all the time. Apparently it was the name of the main character in a Muggle ballet. Anyways, I haven't heard anything from my parents since a drunken letter my dear mother sent me in Fourth Year about how much of a disgrace I was because I wouldn't even consider marrying my second cousin. Like I said, pretty typical. I'm sure your fall from grace in the pureblood society was much more interesting than mine."

The funny thing was that through my entire story he actually appeared to be paying close attention, like he was actually interested in what I had to say. He shook his head, "Mine's different but certainly not more interesting. My parents are second cousins too, both Blacks, so they were both incredibly disappointed when I didn't live up to the family name. They didn't cast me out though. I ran away when I was sixteen. I ran to the Potter's actually. I was always welcome there. Mr. and Mrs. Potter took me in without a second thought, which I was thankful for. I stayed with them during the holidays until recently my favorite uncle, who also would have been considered a disgrace to the Black name, died. He left me a bit of gold and I moved into a flat. Pro – James still jokes that it was my Black pride that made me leave the Potter's. Maybe he's right. I just couldn't bear the thought of living off someone's charity. I suppose the only thing that's more interesting about my story than yours is the fact that my leaving my parents' house was a bit more violent." He rolled up his left shirt sleeve, revealing four crescent-shaped scars the size of fingernails on his forearm. "My mother was a bit… Vicious towards the end."

I thoughtlessly traced a finger along the scars, "Some people just shouldn't be allowed to reproduce," I managed to tell him, his skin feeling warm under my touch.

He grabbed my hand, "Your fingers are freezing."

I could practically feel myself blush, "Oh I'm –" I didn't manage to get out my apology. The kiss caught me off-guard. It was so gentle, so almost anxious but yet so self-assured at the same time. I'd heard rumors that he was an incredible kisser but he made all the other blokes I'd kissed seem like I'd just been kissing walls. Maybe it was all his experience but he was impeccable.

I suppose that's what made it so hard to pull away. What the hell was I doing though? I knew that I'd agreed to seduce him for Marren and all but not while she was getting over an addiction. She was too fragile to deal with the awful truth that she was dating a cheater. He seemed almost as surprised as I would that I pulled away. I managed to barely get out an "I've got to go" before tearing out of the library like a mad woman. Damn… That really should not have been as enjoyable as it was. I mean, I was the other woman. Shouldn't I have been brassed off about him using me or something? Nope. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen going to my brain or something but damn, I really needed to get my priorities straight.