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Black and White by AC_rules
Chapter 1 : A rather confusing state of non-reality.
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 33


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A/N - This was for Snidgett's banner challange - I was given a banner, and had to write a story. This occured to me when I was in the bath, I realise it is quite odd and a little bit wierd in general... but, well... I hope that you find it relatively amusing. I'll stop now, enjoy! (and please review at the end :D)

 

There she was, Arabella White... standing near the restricted section, her perfect lips twisted up into a smile as she laughed at something my brother said. Her lovely blonde hair was done differently today, because obviously as a teenage boy I was definitely going to notice her hair, and it was swept back at the top of her head. It looked soft and silky.  Round pearl earrings (had my brother brought her those??) gave her a look of class and elegance that only pearls could achieve. She looked very nice indeed.

My brother quirked his eyebrows up and touched her shoulder before turning around and leaving. She watched him go. It sparked up a wave of jealously in me that I didn’t understand... why was it now, much too late, that I was beginning to notice how beautiful and wonderful she was? I couldn’t stop looking at her. She kept catching my eye. The only logical conclusion was that I’d fallen in love with her. Obviously.

She caught my eye; her green orbs (because quite naturally I could see her eyes from the other side of library) sparkled with some form of recognition... so she remembered. She remembered when we used to be the best of friends... Inseparable.

Then she was coming over. Oh my wizard God, she was walking over in my direction. Despite being Sirius Black – who had never been nervous in his entire life – I suddenly felt very nervous. I was sweating, and not just my palms – I’m talking everywhere. Even my arse was sweating. That’s how nervous I was. Because this girl – Arabella White – who I hadn’t talked to since we were twelve was walking over to my corner in the library.

“Hey Sirius,” She said, cool as anything, and sat herself down at my table. Oh.

“Hello?” I said. Oh dear lord, my voice squeaked. She smiled at this accommodatingly. What the hell was she doing? I mean, I wasn’t complaining – within the last three minutes I had decided that I was in love with her, so any attention that was directed at me rather than my brother was a bonus – but still, it was a little odd. Now she was acting as if we weren’t childhood friends who’d had our close friendship torn apart by the feud between our families, Voldemort, the dark arts and her twin brother (doesn't everyone have a twin these days? Isn't that the norm?). It was very strange.

“How are you?” She asked kindly. I stared at her, my eyes wide. Her fantastic blue eyes (because, for some reason, they’d changed colour) were glittering, because – let’s face it – whose eyes do not glitter. Personally, I like to think that mine sparkle. Like diamonds. Only grey.

“Fine,” I managed to splutter out, still thoroughly confused. Considering I am normally so suave and arrogant it is slightly odd that I am now a quivering wreck. I suppose this is what love does to a fellow. “You?” I asked, because this is the type of thing you say to someone who hasn’t talked to you for years.

“Not bad,” She sighed. “Little bored. How are Lily and James doing?”

Ah. I could talk about this topic. “Well, obviously they’re meant to be – everyone’s seen it coming.”

“I’ve taught you well,” Arabella said with a wry smile.

“Sorry?” I asked, blinking in confusion. Arabella was that kind of girl though – very inconsistent. You thought you knew her, and then she’d surprise you by something random and obscure, that left you scratching your head for hours (even though I am very very clever, of course, but still – she’s a puzzling girl). People are often very complicated like this.

“That’s what everyone says,” She continued, “That they’re meant to be – everyone’s seen it coming, I’m not sure why. I’ve hardly developed their characters at all. I mean, honestly, they yell at each other occasionally – but I didn’t quite manage the sexual tension aspect.”

“What?” I asked again.

“Oh come on Sirius,” Arabella said. “This isn’t real.” I stared at her, now completely and utterly lost. “If it was real, why would you be in the library?”

I had no answer to that. Why was I in the library?

“And you definitely wouldn’t be on your own – the others would be with you.”

“James and Remus?”

“And Peter.” Arabella finished. I stared at her with my eyes wide, utterly clueless.

“Peter?”

She sighed now, and I found myself distracted by her perfectly shaped lips, that seemed to be coated in some form of everlasting glittery lipgloss. Pretty... “I wrote him out,” She admitted. “I didn’t like him, so I wrote him out.”

“I am so confused.” I told her, staring into her eyes like the hormonal-teenage fiend I was. “Are you saying this is... some kind of dream?”

“Not exactly,” She replied, leaning on her elbows on the desk. “I’m saying you’re not real.”

“I’m real,” I replied. I pinched my leg under the desk to check. It hurt. I then felt a bit stupid. And, let's be clear abouth this, Sirius Black is not stupid.

“Well...” She trailed off with a shrug. I furrowed my eyebrows at her and found myself thoroughly perplexed. I may be in love with this girl, but she’s definitely been on the crazy drugs. “What happened,” She said flicking a lock of her perfect hair out of her face, it fell back down again and I had to fight the crazy urge to reach out and touch it... “I, I wrote this story – fan fiction,”

“Wait, fan fiction?”

“Yes, yes,” She replied, rolling her eyes. “Fan fiction – it doesn’t mean I’m weird, or obsessive or really geeky or anything. It just means I like writing fan fiction.”

“Okay, okay,” I said quickly, because her nostrils were flaring and she looked slightly angry. Of course I hadn’t got a clue what the hell this fan fiction nonsense was, but I was just going to take her word on it. “Fan fiction is cool, I get it.”

“Cool?” She questioned, and then she laughed and bit her lip. “So I wrote this fan fiction, about you,”

“About me?”

“Will you stop interrupting?” she asked irritably. “I wrote this story, and then I sort of fell into it – and now I’m here.”

“So you’re saying this is a story...?” I asked slowly. It was quite clear that this girl was a nutcase. But that was fine. Actually, being a teenage boy I find nutcases very refreshing compared to the normal blondes with huge breasts, mile-long legs that wear lots of makeup and are open to all sorts of sexual acts. To be honest, that stuff gets a bit boring after awhile. Real boring.

So finding out that I was in love with an absolute psychopath was a good thing. Absolutely. Couldn’t wait to tell James and Remus all about it, actually – wherever the hell they were.

“I’m not actually Arabella White,” She said seriously. “Oh yeah, and if you call me Arabella – I’ll shoot you.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s what I have to do whenever I introduce myself. I say ‘I’m Arabella White but call me Arabella – and I’ll kill you’ or something along those lines. It’s Bella,”

“I used to call you Arabella.”

“Well,” She said, “That’s kind of the point – our troublesome past led to me detesting the name Arabella and not allowing anyone to call me by that name. It’s a bit like symbolism, but not as clever.”

“That’s stupid,” I said, frowning. “I’m still going to call you Arabella,”

“You’re supposed too,” She sighed. “It’s parted of our complicated romantic relationship.”

“We have a romantic relationship?” I asked eagerly, sitting up and looking at her. She may be a psychopath, but hey – at least she’s pretty forward about the whole thing.

“Oh yes,” She nodded with a frown. Now that I thought about it, she did look very tired – there were dark rings around her green (which have changed colour again – I wonder how she does that?) eyes and her hair, which had been previously done up in some fancy do was looking rather dishevelled and limped. As a teenage boy, I understand and notice these details about her hair.

“Haven’t you got something going on with my brother?”

“Yes,” She said.

“Aren’t I, erm... bothered? When we have our romantic relationship?”

“Surprisingly, no, it’s one of many holes in your character.”

“Are you insulting me?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her. No one insulted Sirius Black.

“No, no, I’m insulting myself,” She said, reaching out and putting a hand on my arm. My arm started tingling and shit, because this is what happens to teenage boys. It was a bit like an electric shock (I'm not sure why, as a pureblood, I woud ever compare anything to an electric shock as I have no idea what electricity is... but I suppose there was no other way to explain the unexplainable sensation in my arm - so who gives a shit?). 

I looked up at her, noticing again how breathtakingly beautiful she was, even if she was mildly psychotic and making no sense. “Well, my writing. It’s just; you don’t make any sense Sirius. I didn’t realise it at the time, but now I’m stuck here – having to live with you, it’s just so frustrating.”

“That’s definitely an insult,” I said slowly, trying to turn her words over in my huge brain, desperately trying to get them to make sense. They didn’t. Was I becoming stupid? What a pickle.

“No, it’s not – I’m serious.”

“No,” I said with my trademark smirk (and I mean trademark - honestly, it’s the only expression of mine that’s ever described). “I’m Sirius.”

“Another flaw,” She grimaced. “I thought the Sirius-serious pun was cute, oh how wrong I was.”

I paused for a second and tried to consider this in a way that made sense, but I was utterly confused. All I knew is that Arabella White was the love of my life, and I simply had to make her understand that, and that in reality, I’d know we were meant to be all my life. When I’d met her at five years old, when I didn’t have any hormones (well, then again, I’m Sirius Black – I could have started early) there was that moment when my grey eyes and her mysteriously changing coloured eyes met across the playpen and...

“Wait, can you please explain slowly? I’m a little confused.” I blurted out; bringing a hand up to my head and trying desperately to get my brain to work. Surely there must be spells of this type of thing? Maybe she’d been hit by a babbling hex? Or maybe this was all some strange vodka, oh sorry, fire whiskey – I’m not a muggle after all – induced dream that was making my brain funny.

“You are a product of my not-so-original imagination and inability to write characters with any real character.”

“No,” I said shaking my head slowly. “You’re mixed up, Arabella – I am a product of my bitch of a mother and bastard father getting it on... That’s how babies are made.” I said. “I can show you if you like,”

“Ah, the inappropriate comments,” Arabella said, running her hands through her dishevelled hair hand shaking her head in annoyance. “Come on Sirius – think about it! Black and White – a little cutesy isn’t it?”

And now, I am imagining our wedding. Arabella looks stunning in white, and I am wearing Black – and of course, being the classic teenage male that I am, my brain is focusing on the wedding service rather than the wedding night. Naturally.
 

I'm so freaking wild.

“I think it’s romantic,” I told her.

She banged her head on the table in frustration. “Sirius!” She exclaimed, “you’re seventeen years old! You’re male! You’re supposed to think about sex, not romance!”

Now that was definitely confusing. Of course, being Sirius Black, I have made my way through nearly all the girls in the year – ugly or otherwise – and yet my thoughts are shockingly sex free. Maybe I have turned into a nun or... no, it’s Arabella – she’s changed me. I will probably never think about sex again. I am a changed man.

“But...” I begin.

“No,” She said, shaking her beautiful head and standing up again, “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Don’t leave!” I exclaimed, grabbing her arm and pulling her back into her seat. Of course this is not creepy or stalkerish. And later I will probably stare at her dot on the map and dream of going on romantic walks and talking to her for hours on end. And it will not be creepy, but sweet and romantic.

I might buy her flowers. Or a ring. Or a house.

“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked, staring right at her.

“Because this chapter is in your point of view,” She informed me, sliding back down into her seat, “don’t you think its strange how before this you haven’t had any thoughts?”

“No,” I answered truthfully. I couldn’t remember not having thoughts and yet, strangely... when I really thought about it, I couldn’t remember thinking about anything before. It was a very strange idea that I hadn’t thought before this moment... Spectacularly odd in fact. “But, if it’s in my point of view, then surely... you shouldn’t be able to think?” I suggested, trying to get my brain to wrap itself around the idea. Of course it was complete bullocks, but hopefully if I pretended to know what utter shit she was talking about she might stay around long enough to fall in love with me. Which shouldn’t take long.

“Yes,” She said, “but in the next chapter, I play out the whole scene again – from my point of view, (do not ask me why, I have no idea) which means I can actually change things.”

“So how was it supposed to go?” I asked, folding my arms and looking at her carefully.

“Well, you were supposed to see me laughing with Regulus, and then suddenly this jealousy was ignited inside your stomach, and you couldn’t deal with it, and you were about to come and talk to me, then I left.”

“That was it?”

“Yes,” She snapped, “at the time, I thought it was good character development, but I am glad I included it – you would not believe how boring it’s been, living with all these two dimensional characters saying exactly what I told them to say, and knowing exactly what’s going to happen -”

“So you’re a seer?” I asked eagerly, finally seeing something that at least made a bit of sense and grabbing onto it.

She sighed and rested her head in her hands for a long few minutes. I looked at the skin on her arm, in a purely nonsexual way, and instead thought of its brilliant creamy white colour, and how beautiful it was and all that shit. “I’m not a seer,” She said, lifting her head back up, “but I do know what’s going to happen.”

“What happens?” I asked excitedly.

“Well, in another two chapters... I kiss Regulus.” My heart literally just broke in my chest. It was so painful; all I wanted to do was crawl into the foetal position and cry like the teenage boy I am! Gosh, it was too much to deal with, it reminded me of my mother rejecting me, and brought back all of these emotions...

I WILL NEVER LOVE AGAIN.

I needed to find James and have a classic teenage-boy talk about emotions. And love.
And speaking of love, Arabella, cruel and heartless Arabella, was still talking. “- Then, despite you telling me not to go out in the grounds, I decided to take a night time walk and – ohmygosh, would you believe it –its full moon!”

“No!” I declared, grabbing her arms and looking at her in panic, “don’t go out – it’s dangerous!”

“Then I walk into you as a dog and James as a stag, and Remus the werewolf.” My heart sunk and I stared at her in shock. She was a seer. Or some creepy all knowing person who knew all of our secrets. “And then I casually outrun a werewolf,”

“But that’s’ impossible!” I exclaimed. 

“I know but its a Sirius/oc standard, I’m intrigued to see how that works when it happens, if I’m honest. Anyway, then you risk your life to save me,”

“Oh,” I said to that.

“And then, in the end – you make me chose between you and Regulus,”

“Who do you chose?” I breathed.

“Regulus,” She answered. Oh! My heart, my poor heart. And oh my wizard god! The pain was just too much. “Only joking!” She exclaimed, “of course I pick you. Everyone always picks you in these stories...”

Thank the wizard God all mighty.

“Then what happens? We live happily ever after?”

“No,” She said, looking mildly concerned now. I could tell immediately that she didn’t want to tell me this next bit, despite not having talked to her for years. There were all the tell tale signs – She was biting her lip nervously (and I shot a nonsexual glance at those lips) and looking downwards towards the floor.

“Tell me,” I urged, grabbing hold of her hand (and feeling rather too forward, despite normally being a womaniser and all that stuff).

“I killed myself off, see,” She said sadly, “and I’m not sure... if when I die – I’ll go back to reality, or if I’ll just die.”

Then I remembered that everything she was saying was nonsense. She couldn’t know the future, and all this bullocks about chapters and writing made my head hurt. Maybe I was lovesick. Maybe this was just too confusing for any poor bloke to understand.

“You’re taking this better than Reg,” She commented lightly.

“You told Regulus?” I asked, suddenly feeling scandalised. Then suddenly this strange jealousy was ignited inside my stomach, and I couldn’t deal with it. It made me angry and confused and emotional and my head hurt. Why would she tell Regulus? I was the better brother – I was in Gryffindor, and I was older, and more popular. I did love my brother though (despite the lack of any written evidence for this fact) but it didn’t cross my mind that I should consider his feelings in this whole thing.

“He had a chapter in his point of view two chapters ago,”

“What chapter number are we one?” I asked, humouring her. If I pretended I understood, she might fall in love with me. No one else could deal with the crazy, could they?

“You’re on chapter six; I’m way ahead on number seven.” She replied, “anyway, I really should go – I don’t want to be here when this scene finishes and you go back to having no thoughts.”

Wow.

There are padded cells in St Mungo’s for this, are they not? I could visit there weekly, and gradually she’d realise that she was criminally insane, and that she was madly in love with me. The negatives including the one visit a week – hey, some of that crazy could be contagious, so it’s not like I could risk coming more – and no privacy. The positives though... I would never have to worry about another guy hitting on her. Unless my mental brother decided to join her in there (he is mental for deciding to be the Slytherin-loser brother and for joining the death eaters and shit).

“No,” I said quickly, “the chapter doesn’t change until you leave!” I declared desperately, “Stay! Everything your saying makes sense! I’d had my suspicions for ages!” That was a lie. I still hadn’t got the foggiest clue what she was on about. It was probably political or something and I tended to stay out of that nonsense. “You’re so beautiful,”

“Oh shite,” Arabella muttered. “We’re skipping to chapter eleven,”

“Arabella, I mean it,” I said. She stood up. I stood up. I grabbed hold of her arm and looked into her eyes, which were now blue again. “But, as a side note – why do your eyes keep changing colour?” I asked, blinking myself out of the daze I seemed to have fallen in.

“I kept forgetting what colour eyes I gave my character,” She sighed.

“I love you!” I yelled, attracting a lot of attention from everyone. Obviously, everyone was in the library. James and Remus were there – naturally, as well as everyone else I knew. And Regulus. Who didn’t hang around in the library at lunchtime?

What was strange though, was the fact that I hadn’t intentionally spoke then words... they’d burst out from my lips without my permission. I decided it was simply a manifestation of all the love I feel for Arabella White, and that my soul simply could not contain it.

“Now, Sirius,” Arabella said, “let’s be reasonable about this.”

“I’d die for you!” I scream, and of course, it was true. I would throw myself in front of tickling hexes, and tripping jinxes if only she would love me like I love her. “I love you like James loves Lily!” I declared. Somewhere in the background Lily exclaimed ‘I don’t love James!’ but I payed little attention to this. “I love you like... like... like Voldemort loves to murder people!” This does not seem distasteful, even though several people in the room have lost parents/sisters/friends to Voldermort and the death eaters. Instead this sounds sweet and meaningful. I am not entirely sure why.

“Now, Sirius,” Arabella sighs in a tired and frustrated voice which tells me that she’s not about to admit her feelings for me. She does have feelings for me though. I know. I see it in her hypnotising eyes (and not just because they change colour regularly), “don’t make a scene, because we all know where it will end – Regulus will get upset and you’ll both end up duelling...”

Then I reached forwards and kissed her mid sentence. It was the most beautiful and magical moment in my entire life. My tummy (teenage-boy = manly) was suddenly filled with butterflies and explosions and fireworks. It’s funny, I thought for a second, because every other time I was kissed (by blonde big-breasted slags) paled into insignificance compared to this. Arabella, naturally, is kissing me back. It’s addicting and there are tongues (did I do that? Goodness me, considering I never think of her in a sexual way I’m certainly not acting accordingly, how very odd) and then I’m feeling her up and all that shit. The seen is very steamy and intense, despite the fact that we are merely teenages and everyone is watching.

She steps back away from me, and there is a slightly glazed expression in her eyes. And, of course, we are both breathless.  Thats how steamy and intense our snogging was. Beat that, Regulus.

“I love you too,” She replied, although I don’t really think she meant to say it. It almost seemed as if the words were being forced out of her lips. But who cares! She loves me! We love each other! YES! My life is just... ah, complete, I am blissful – nothing can go wrong.

“You’re a great kisser,” I tell her, which is not an awkward statement or a strange thing to say by any account – no, it is romantic and sweet. And manly.

“This is fan fiction, Sirius,” She grinned, “everybody’s a great kisser.”

I smirked at her as if I have a bloody clue what she’s on about.

“Get off my girl!” Regulus declared, stepping forward from the large crowd of people who have crowded around to watch this joyous demonstration of true love. Or, from a different angle, the group of people who are awkwardly standing around and watching two people snog.

“You want to duel, bro?” I asked, and I’m not really sure why – because I sound like a right tool.

“You’re no brother of mine.” Regulus said dramatically. The tool thing must by spreading. I feel no emotion to this, I note, and my head’s growing increasingly fuzzier.

“It’s cringer than I thought.” Arabella said, slumping down on her seat.

I pulled out my wand and prepared to duel – to the death if I had to (although I doubted that would be the case, because the library-woman was around somewhere and would probably break this whole thing up at a convenient moment).

And then, quite bizarrely, I stop thinking all together. 

 
 

“End of the chapter,” Arabella muttered as she watched Sirius’s grey eyes lose their colour slightly and return to their blank shade of absolute nonsense. She leaned her head against her elbow and watched emotionlessly as the two Black brothers began to duel. She was almost relieved that the chapter was over – getting Sirius to understand had been impossibly difficult. She briefly wondered if he’d remember this conversation in the next chapter in his point of view.

“Painius!” Sirius yelled, brandishing his wand like a sword. Regulus yelped in pain.

“Baldo!” Regulus returned, and Sirius immediately lost his hair. They do not bother with shield charms but occasional ducked and allowed the spells to comically hit members of the crowd, who sprouted tentacles (TENTICALIUS!) or forgot who they were (WIPEMEMORIEUS!). Worst off is poor James Potter, who – unfortunately for him – was hit by LOSERITUS and is now just a complete loser (everyone has forgotten his name, he has lost his academic abilities and can no longer play Quidditch. Ironically, this unfortunate spell will actually lead to him winning over the lovely Lily Evans, and will ware off after a few weeks).

“Aren’t you going to do anything?” Lily Evans asked, sliding into the seat beside Arabella and looking up at her with wide and slightly hysterical (because Lily Evans is constantly hysterical) green eyes. Naturally, Arabella knows this conversation is the start of a long and beautiful friendship between her and the Head Girl (politely ignoring the fact that Arabella is a pureblood Slytherin and Lily is a muggleborn Gryffindor – but hey, what do those things matter when there’s a war going on because of it?) yet she is not in the best mood to deal with this excessive and all together rather ridiculous melodrama at this moment in time.

“This isn’t my fault,” She snapped, although it is – she wrote the terrible story after all (although, it is true she's not actually called Arabella - her real name is sightly less flowery and does not begin with the letter 'a'). “It’s not all Black and White, you know.”

A/N -  Too weird? Favourite quotes? Decent?

Reviews are great. Just throwing that out there. ;)
 
 




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