For all you people who are in Serious Sirius Denial, like me. He's alive, darn it! Oh and, I don't own anything you recognise.

Getting There

Chapter One - Stranger

Daria was having a really bad day, she had been put on probation by her boss for letting off dung bombs in his office, her boyfriend had dumped her, her mother was casually hinting that her now ex-boyfriend was long overdue a proposal and her best friend was infatuated with some geek at the office in which they worked. She had managed to keep her temper, until something large and heavy randomly landed on her, on her way home from work.

"Ow..." she mumbled, pushing whatever it was that fell on her off and trying to get up. Then The Thing That Fell On Her and Induced Her Wrath started moving, indicating that it was alive, and if it was alive, it was at fault. "What the hell did you do that for?! And where the hell did you come from?!" she yelled, massaging her sore head. She stood up from the pavement, brushing off her clothes and wincing at the scrapes on her hands that she had made when she hit the ground. She narrowed her eyes at the pavement to see who had knocked her over.

The Thing That Fell On Her and Induced Her Wrath turned out to be a man, but despite his good looks she still felt very angry at him. Actually, maybe it was because he was very good looking that she felt angrier at him than usual. He had shoulder length black hair that was slightly wavy and grey eyes and prominent cheekbones, and he looked rather confused and distraught.

"Where am I?" he asked, looking round at the empty street in one of the more dodgy areas of the city. Fine, she thought, don't apologise. The grey clouds rumbled ominously above their heads, threatening a downpour, which Daria eyed disdainfully.

"London, you prat, where else?" she snapped. Stupid Muggles, she thought, they're all mad. The man stopped looking around and stared at her, unnervingly.

"How did I get here?" he asked. Daria raised an eyebrow, which always meant either "I think you're stupid," or "I want to have sex with you," in this case Daria was leaning towards the former. It was then she noticed that he held a wand in his right hand.

"You have a wand," she accused. After all, they were in the middle of Muggle London, how stupid could you get? He nodded mutely, but did not put it away.

"I need to get to the Department of Mysteries," he said, looking very determined and stubborn. Daria rolled her eyes.

"No...you need to tell me how you got here," she told him. She found it very odd he had just dropped out of nowhere and was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery, even if it meant having an idiotic conversation with this man.

"I was...falling," he replied, frowning at the question, a faint crease line appearing between his eyebrows. This made Daria wonder about his mental health. "You softened my fall, thank you," he said. Daria raised her eyebrows, she had not been expecting him to apologise.

"So you fell from the sky, huh?" she asked, suddenly finding this deranged man amusing. He shook his head.

"No! I was in the Department of Mysteries, that's why I need to get back there," he said, pleading with her to believe him maybe. Daria snorted.

"Let me get this straight. You fell from the Department of Mysteries, onto me, in the middle of this random street?" she asked.

"Yes!" he cried, vehemently.

"How?" she asked. He was stumped, he had no idea how he had come to be there.

"I fell through the veil," he muttered, almost as an afterthought. "But I have to go back! I have to save Harry!"

This guy is funny! Who needs television when you have some nutter who thinks he fell from the sky, Daria asked herself, mentally laughing but on the surface her face was blank, although the corners of her mouth were creeping upwards as she had hardly any self control.

"Harry who?" she asked, hoping for some imaginative and creative tall story. The man, who had been looking round as if the Department of Mysteries would suddenly appear, snapped his attention back to her.

"Harry Potter," he stated, as if it was obvious. He has really nice eyes, noticed Daria, shame he's insane.

"Who's he and why do you have to save him?" asked Daria, enjoying the free entertainment. The man's jaw dropped.

"How can you not know who Harry Potter is?! You're a witch aren't you?" he cried, confused. Daria raised her eyebrow again.

"Yes, I'm a witch. What's so special about Harry Potter?" she asked, curious. Maybe he invented dung bombs, she thought, sarcastically. The man's eyes widened.

"Harry Potter defeated Voldemorte when he was just a baby," his voice had dropped to a husky whisper. He was looking at her so intensely that Daria wondered if he was safe to be around.

"Who was just a baby? Harry Potter or Vol dee thing?" she asked. The man made a noise of exasperation, then his facial expression turned to confusion and something else that Daria couldn't identify.

"You don't know who they are..." he muttered, almost to himself. "Do you know who I am?" he asked almost hysterically. Whoa, calm down, thought Daria, let's not burst a blood vessel. She gazed at him blankly.

"I'm Sirius Black!" he cried, paused while she continued looking at him blankly, amazed at her indifference. She shrugged.

"I'm shivering with fear," she told him in a monotone. "Bit of a weird name, though, Sirius, isn't it? Unusual."

Sirius Black, if that was his real name, turned around, looking at all the tall buildings and the setting sun. "Where am I?" he asked rhetorically.

"London, you prat," was Daria's answer.

Part One of my strange sugar inspired story. If anything is unclear now, don't worry, because it's supposed to be and I'll explain. Later. But please review!