It started as the beginning of the worst vacation of my life. I got sick from the oversea Apparation, Flooed into someone's house on accident, was almost arrested for trespassing, got lost, got violently ill on a violently purple bus, got lost again and nearly robbed by some muggle punk who probably can't remember what he did today, and to top it all off I was sitting in some dingy pub called the Leaky Cauldron, because I could not for the life of me find the inn I was supposed to stay at.

And this is all in one day: the first day of my vacation. How fabulous! I admit, I was an American tourist, going on vacation to England to see the wizarding community before the war destroyed it. But I don't care where you're from, that much bad luck in one day is not healthy.

So I sat at the bar by myself, drinking my non-exotic butterbeer because I didn't want to get drunk. I probably looked very lame. But he came and sat next to me anyway.

"You look pissed about something," he said.

"I have something to be pissed about," was my terse reply. I was being rude, but I really didn't give a damn. Right then I was willing to live up to the whole Americans-are-inconsiderate-assholes stereotype.

"Bad day?" he asked sympathetically.

"You have no idea."

"Try me."

I was surprised. Not many people would actually want to know. I looked up into startlingly dark eyes in a very handsome face, perfectly framed by long black hair. He looked like a prick, but he didn't act like one. His eyes were guarded, but his smile was genuine. The way he sat was relaxed yet prepared for anything. I couldn't help but wonder what in life made him so tense in his inner core.

"Who are you?" I asked instead. You start with names, not dark pasts.

His grin broadened. "The name's Sirius Black." He held out his hand, and I cautiously shook it. "And who are you, Miss America?"

I laughed. I know about the Muggle competition, and comparing me to a Miss America is like comparing a chicken to a peacock.

"Rya." He raised his eyebrows. "My parents wanted an exotic name, probably because they were Bob and Sue."

"Nice to meet you, Rya. Want another butterbeer? Or something stronger?" In any other situation, my mind would be screaming "pervert" or "rapist" in my ear, but something about this man, this Sirius Black…I trusted him immediately.

"No thanks. Anything stronger and I'd be passed out within two hours." I couldn't help but smile at the memory of my first—and last—encounter with fire whiskey.

"Really? Butterbeer barely does anything for me, even if I drink it all night." He was actually surprised.

"No offense Sirius, but you look like the guy that would stay out all night with his buddies." Which was true, all you had to do was see him smile, really smile, once and you knew.

"Nah, James would be the only one who would do it, but now with Lily and Harry, he's stuck at home." He smiled wistfully. "He's my godson, little Harry. Lily told me that if I teach him anything she'd hex me."

"Wouldn't it be good for you to teach him?" I asked. "I mean, isn't that the point of a godfather?"

"Not what I would teach him." He chuckled. "Tricks, jokes, ways to get in trouble without getting caught. Every Marauder prank or passion, every inside joke. He'd know it all if I had any say."

"Marauder?"

Sirius glanced at me. "That's what we called ourselves in school. James, Remus, Peter, and I were the Marauders, have been since second year."

"Sounds like an appropriate name," I said softly, laughing into my drink.

"It was very appropriate. Moony was always cracking jokes about how juvenile we were being for naming ourselves, but he believed in it just as much as the rest of us." Sirius asked the barkeep for another butterbeer without asking if I needed one. I didn't mind.

"Who's Moony?" I asked, smiling in thanks as Sirius slid the cup to me.

"It's a nickname for Remus." No other explanation.

"Did you all have strange nicknames?" I asked, raising one eyebrow at him.

"Yes, we did."

"And? What was yours?"

"Padfoot. And this isn't past tense, we still use those names."

"Padfoot," I said, turning the word in my mouth. "I like it. It's cute." He blushed ever so slightly. "Reminds me of a great big dog." His eyes widened.

"You're smart."

"What? Why?"

He looked away. "Just trust me, you are." There were a few moments of silence, during which I realized I was having an entire conversation with someone I had just met. And I didn't care. I liked this Sirius fellow. "So," he said, interrupting my thoughts, "did you have any strange nicknames in school?"

I unconsciously started playing with my golden brown hair, but I didn't say anything. There was a reason my friends started calling me by a different name, and the rest of the school just caught on.

"You did! Come on, tell me!" He had twisted in his chair to face me. His face was lit with excitement. "Please?" He reminded me of a child. He gave me puppy dog eyes, which were remarkably strong.

"Fine!" I looked away. "They called me Puma," I muttered.

"Sounds fierce," he commented. "Any reason why?"

I laughed. "The guys said it was because of my temper." That wasn't the real reason.

"Where did it really come from?" I looked up at him again, into his eyes, those dark and penetrating eyes. He knew I was holding back. I knew he wasn't saying all too, though.

"Where did Padfoot come from?" He didn't answer me. "Exactly."

He looked at me questioningly. "You are the only person, aside from Lily, who has ever guessed that there was more to the story."

I couldn't help but smile. "You did say I was inexplicably smart."

He smiled back. "Yes, I did." He was looking right into my eyes, and I was looking straight back into his. And for a moment, we held each other's gaze. It wasn't uncomfortable; there was just something there that kept us from saying anything else. But whatever it was, this strange bond we had experienced, was broken by some drunken jerk wad.

"Hey, pretty lady," he said, sitting askew on the stool next to me. He looked to Sirius, trying to move without falling off his chair. "Mate, do y'mind? If'n you're not goin' to…well…" He smiled at me. I could smell the fire whiskey on his breath and I was disgusted. "If you're not gonna 'elp this 'ere lady…I'll take 'er for a go." My face turned bright red, I'm sure. He basically just called me a whore. Jerk.

He smiled again, and as he leaned forward—I'm sure to mutter nasty nothings in my ear—a wand was quite suddenly poking him in the neck. His smile fell and his eyes widened, frantically looking over at Sirius, who was beat red with anger.

"I think you'd best leave," Sirius said, his voice shaking slightly. The man slid off the stool, being extra careful to not move without warning. "And next time you go looking for some corner whore, make sure you're not talking to a perfectly respectable woman." The man nodded, and Sirius lowered his wand.

He stood, waving like a cattail in the wind, and grinned at me once more. "'S okay," he said. He attempted to point at me, but his finger ended up aimed at the opposite end of the bar. "I know you'll come 'round 'ventually."

Sirius stood quickly, his stool crashing as it hit the floor. Everyone looked up at us. I stood as well, placing myself directly in front of Sirius.

"I'm sorry sir," I told the man, feeling Sirius' rage radiating out of him, "but if you want a whore you'll have to look elsewhere. I'm no slut. Now leave me alone." He grinned at me and made as if to step closer, and Sirius moved forward. I reached out behind me and grabbed his arms, holding him behind me. "Leave," I said, loud enough for the whole pub to hear (not that it was very loud in there anymore). He didn't move. "Now."

He leaned forward, and I had to fight against Sirius again. Since they were both so close I felt I could lower my voice without losing affect. "Look, I will hex you into next year if you do not get the hell out. Now." I let go of Sirius' left hand, using mine to pull out my wand.

The man looked at me, snorted, and weaved his way out the door.

As the door swung shut behind him, I turned around to face Sirius, letting go of his hand as I did. He was very close. I eyed him, but did not step back. "I suppose you'll want a thank you for defending me," I said, knowing he didn't.

He was watching me. Carefully. "I suppose you'll want an apology for losing my temper," he replied, knowing I didn't.

"Point made."