He first came in around the end of July. I was at the till, trying to fix it as it flashed and accused me of entering £999,999 into it. I was waiting for George to come by and fix it for me when the door sounded. He was very tall, with dark hair and light eyes. I glanced at him only momentarily before turning my attention back to the till, which was still blinking. I tried very hard not to give up, but I still slumped down on my chair and stared at it hopelessly. I woke up late that morning, had no time to get ready, skipped breakfast, and almost got run over by the bus on the way here. Sadly, this wasn't a rare occurrence in my life. Bad luck seemed to perpetually follow me. Of course I went to the same school as Ally Reynolds, who had made my life a living hell since I was 6. Of course Ally Reynolds was going out with Simon Turner, the boy I had fancied for years. And, of course I spilled coffee down my front the day Simon was supposed to come in for his bike parts. Typical. I took a bite out of the chocolate bar I got from the vending machine, wondering if this day could get any worse.

I looked up as the tall boy came up to me. He was incredibly handsome, and even more so up close. He also looked completely haughty, as if the idea of talking to anyone was beneath him. But when I met his gaze, he smiled and his whole face seemed to soften.

"Hi," He said, glancing down at the till as it made another loud bleeping noise. "I was wondering if you could help me?"

"Er-" I looked around the store, but George was nowhere to be found. He was probably off snogging the waitress next door. "I suppose. Hold on a minute." I ducked beneath my desk and unplugged the till. It went blank, and I sighed in relief. I smiled at the stranger. "I'm hopeless with technology. My dad says I should have been born in a time when people functioned without electricity."

The stranger looked amused, but didn't say anything. He was examining the till very closely, as if he's never seen one before. I supposed it was a particularly ancient one, and didn't really blame him for looking at it as if it was completely foreign to him. I cleared my throat, and he looked up. "My name is Amy. What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if I could look at the motorbikes." He said excitedly, his eyes darting to the back of the store where three bikes stood in a row.

"Sure," I smiled and led him down. "Are you eighteen?"

"No, seventeen." His eyes darted to the big Harley Davidson. "How much is that one?"

"That's the most expensive one." I frowned at him. "If you're a beginner, I would recommend a smaller bike, they are much safer and easier to control. What about the CB125?" I gestured to the small motorcycle in the left corner. "They just increased the engine displacement from 122 to 124 cc." Or so I heard George tell someone yesterday.

He barely glanced at it before shaking his head. "No, I want that one."

"Right…" I led him to the register, ducking underneath the desk again to plug the till in. "Well, it will cost you about 6000 quid. Are you sure you don't want a look at another motorcycle? I know the other bikes don't look as cool, but you might be better off."

"I'm sure." He said certainly, his eyes still fixed on the bike.

"Right, well, you'll need to come in again with a parent or guardian to buy it, since you're underage. But you can fill out some of this paperwork now. Do you have a National Insurance card?"

He shook his head, looking bemused. "But I'm 17. I'm of age."

"Er- not in England you aren't." I laughed weakly. "It's no bother. Just come in here tomorrow with a guardian, since they'll need to sign a few things. You'll also need to take a few driving lessons before we can give you the bike. We offer some one-on-one lessons on weekends." I handed him the flyer, "And I'll need you to fill out these papers." I handed him a pen, and gestured toward the empty chair in the corner. He sat down just as Simon came in, and my heart started beating loudly.

Simon glanced at the boy only momentarily before advancing toward me. He grinned. "Hello, beautiful."

I blushed crimson. "Hey Si. How are you?"

"Oh, you know," He waved his arm dismissively. "Did you get the parts I ordered?"

"Yes!" I said excitedly. "Just wait here." I went to the back room, carried back two heavy boxes and set them down. "We got the new transmission, but we couldn't find the shocks you asked for, but these are much better, I think. Dad ordered them especially." I smiled at him, and he grinned.

"You're a star, Amy. A bleeding star. So how much will it be?"

I turned to the till and punched the numbers in. "It will be 700 quid with VAT."

He frowned at me. "Can you give me a discount? Don't you get a family rate or something? Come on, Amy, help me out." He winked at me, and I flushed.

"I don't know, Simon. I gave you money off for the tire last time, and almost lost my job."

"Your dad owns this place Amy," He rolled his eyes at me. "He won't sack you. Please, love. I need to start saving up money, and you know how much I care about you. I would do it for you." He smiled impishly.

"Well- I suppose." I looked around; making sure George or dad weren't around. "I can only knock down about 50 pounds though, otherwise I'll get told off."

"That's it?" He looked at me incredulously. "Come on, beautiful. You can do better than that."

I looked at him desperately. "Please, Simon. I can't. Dad was so angry at me last time."

"Fine." Simon said, looking putout. "Whatever." He pulled out his wallet and flung the bills at me before carrying the two boxes and leaving.

I stood there for a minute, staring as he walked to down the road. I wanted so badly to cry, wondering what I did wrong. I turned to go to the back and sulk, but then I remembered the boy in the corner. I jumped when I looked at him, realizing he was staring back at me. He got up and came toward me slowly, handing me the paperwork. "I filled out what I knew. Can I come back for the rest?"

"Of course," I said, my voice hoarse. I cleared my throat. "You can come back any time this week. We're open every day until 6pm, and 4pm on Sundays, Mr. Black." I said, looking at the papers.

"Call me Sirius." He smiled, before turning around and leaving.

I looked down at the paper again. Sirius Black. What an odd name.