AN: This is probably the most stupid, worst-written thing I have ever put up for display on the internet. Sorry, guys.
Light spoilers for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black: The Real Reason Bella Chose Edward
Bella was bored. Possibly, she was bored out of her already-quite-out-there mind. She was sitting in Billy's house—alone, because Billy was over at Sue Clearwater's and Jake was with the pack—mindlessly watching some awful cooking show on television. She'd been doing this for two hours and forty-seven minutes now, and she had had enough. She got up and barged into Jacob's room, her eyes scouring the area for a source of entertainment.
Dirty clothes, a shredded sneaker, a pair of boxers—Bella's eye lingered on those for a bit longer than necessary—a wrench or two…. She sighed resignedly. Nothing interesting. She wandered to the shabby little bookshelf in the corner to see if Jake had anything to read. There was a stack of X-Men comics next to some ancient copies of Goosebumps, which was next to some books on fixing up cars, which was next to—bingo! Jake's small Harry Potter collection. She noticed absently that he was missing the first, but as she had always disliked that one, she didn't really mind.
She settled on Order of the Phoenix, because she had only read it through once and couldn't quite remember everything that had happened. It helped that it was long, too, because she read fast, and she'd probably be there for a while.
She walked back to the front room and flicked on the lamp next to the couch. She curled her legs up beneath her and went to work.
Harry was grumpy, which made her grumpy. She dimly remembered thinking the first time she had read this that the only saving grace of the first few chapters was the introduction of Nymphadora Tonks, whom she now pictured as a pink-haired Alice, for some reason. She was on chapter six when she suddenly stopped.
"Harry was now looking at the name to the left of Andromeda's burn," she read aloud quietly to herself. "Bellatrix Black."
She sat there for a moment. Bellatrix Lestrange, murderer of Sirius, her most beloved character (he was funny and caring and a really big dog), had once been Bella Black. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. Any future she had imagined with Jacob suddenly felt wrong. Now that she'd thought it, she'd never be able to forget it. She closed the book and placed it back on Jacob's shelf as if it had never been touched.
That night, she told Jacob her decision. She apologized and gave him a long hug. He closed his eyes for a few minutes afterwards, shaking slightly, before asking why.
"You can blame J.K. Rowling."
A week later, the author's body was found in several pieces in the woods nearby her home in Scotland.