Unsure of Reality

Harry looked around him curiously, still in quite a state of shock and fright. Where was he?

He heard voices; voices whispering, voices muttering, voices talking as if about to tell a joke. If he strained his ears, he could hear a woman's voice far away... a woman's voice screaming.

Around him was a sort-of field. The grass was trampled on by what seemed to be hooves. Everything was dry and flat.

There was something strange about all this. He couldn't put his finger on it... And then it hit him. It was glaringly obvious, really: everything was in black and white. Not a speck of color to be seen. Now absolutely and completely mystified, he lifted his hands and inspected them carefully. They too were colorless.

The voices were slightly familiar, as if Harry had once heard them in a dream a long time ago. He racked his brain, trying to remember, until his head hurt.

He was the only one there, in that strange, strange place. The field had an aura of death. Harry felt like he was standing in a battlefield where a bloody war took place and unfortunate soldiers were far below.

"Oi! You!" A voice called. It sounded so foreign, for Harry was starting to feel like he had been in this field his whole life, in the silence that accompanied the ominous air. But now that he thought about it, that voice was familiar, all too familiar.

No, it can't be... Harry thought, finally recognizing it. Slowly he turned, anxious to see who would be standing there. It can't be, he thought once again, he's gone. I must be dreaming... imagining it all...

Harry closed his eyes for a second, and then slowly opened them to see if the owner of the voice was who he presumed it to be.

Not too far was a black horse that carried itself in a regal way. Harry stared at the hooves, gathered his courage, and slowly lifted his eyes up to the rider. He gave a sharp intake of breath when he caught sight of him.

Sitting atop the horse was a man whose muscles acted as a sign telling all not to mess with the owner. His face was framed by black hair that hung loosely and sitting on his head was what seemed to be a braided crown using pure golden thread.

This man is Sirius Black.

"S-Sirius?" Harry stuttered.

The man who Harry supposed was Sirius responded with a slightly confused look, "Yes, I was completely serious when I called out for you."

Now Harry looked confused. "You're... not Sirius Black?"

The man looked down at Harry with a slightly worried face. "You alright there, boy? I'm beginning to think you must have had a bit too much to drink."

"No, I don't even drink, I'm only sixteen. And are you positive that you're not Sirius Black?"

"You're sixteen? Sixteen flots high? Sixteen tigs? Sixteen what, my boy? And do you not know your own king?"

Now Harry was completely and totally lost. Flots? Tigs? King? Harry was almost positive before that this man was Sirius Black. But now his certainty was swaying.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, sounding rather rude.

The man chuckled and muttered, "Don't drink, sure, that's what they all say," before answering proudly, "I am Reggalis Levon, king of Intermeddius."

"Intermeddius?" Harry asked, "What continent is that in?"

"You speaking in code?" The Reggalis person asked, giving Harry an odd look.

Harry didn't answer, but instead violently shook his head to see if the man was simply a mirage and would go away if he cleared his vision. But to no avail, Reggalis still stood before him.

"Uh... Siri- I mean, Reggalis, King Reggalis. Do you, by chance, know how I, er, got here?"

Reggalis laughed, "Much too much to drink. Boy, you've always been here."

This last statement left Harry staring at Reggalis as if he had just nonchalantly pointed out that it was snowing chocolate chips on mars.

But then Harry thought. He didn't remember anything that happened before he was there, standing on that field, yet something told him that he didn't belong here and belonged somewhere else; like when one begins to dream at night. He remembered some things: a name, a face bordered by flaming red hair, and of course, a man named Sirius Black, which for some reason he had thought Reggalis to be only moments before.

But these things were quickly slipping from his mind and it started to seem more and more likely that he had indeed been here all his life. Perhaps he had woken up to a dream or it was all in a story he had made up in his head.

Or maybe this is a dream, Harry thought, and reality is quickly slipping away.

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A/N: And so there we go! This story is very odd and the ending of this chapter is very odd. It was inspired by a message in my bulk e-mail that said they were having a writing contest at and showed a picture.... And well, just know that in the end, this story was born. There will probably only be three or four chapters in this story, because I'm almost positive about what will be in each.

Reviewers of any of my other stories, don't lose faith in me, I WILL update! I just got the idea for this story, and, well, I just HAD to write it.

Well, go and review!