Thank you guys for the reviews again, and...yeah. This focuses more on the female Blacks, and the reason why it took so long was because I kept wanting to add more scenes to Sarah's monologue, but none of them really worked...anyways. Happy Reading.

I just now realized I entirely forgot any sort of disclaimer (will go back and add them to the other chapters). Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or Harry Potter; they are copyrighted by their authors and...they..aren't mine. And I'm not making money off this either.


Sarah Black, previously Sarah Qunell, always believed that Billy Black, the one and only love of her life, would always do amazing things.

He was like her knight in shining armor that would appear right when things looked bleak. He would brighten the world with his strange little jokes and dramatic flair. He was her only boyfriend, and he was her first date, her first kiss, and her first case of puppy love that never quite went away. He was the best boyfriend in the entire universe--all her friends had been horribly jealous of the way he looked at her as if she was the sun, the moon, the sky, and the very air he breathed combined into one mortal being. She loved him more than the world, but always felt her affection for him paled in comparison to the need Billy emphasized for her.

He was a smart man, holding his finances and carefully playing the stocks. He was a kind man who adopted a dog named Bessie up until it died a few years ago. He was a handsome man with his dark hair, russet skin, and sparkling eyes. He was a good marksman, a dedicated worker, a devoted student, and a man who lived to live.

He had the most adorable expression that reminded her of the little begging puppy Casey, her roommate, had whenever he messed up, like when he accidentally scorched her counter top in his attempt to make a romantic dinner for their tenth anniversary. He had the cutest laugh when he was pointing out all the wrong, entirely unmanly things in her chick movies. He didn't mind her abnormal need of snuggling and accepted her desire to do something with her life instead of staying home like other housewives did. He gave her room when she needed it, and he hugged her close when she felt lonely. She didn't have to say a word, ever. He mentally got the messages her brain sent, sometimes before she even understood them.

Sarah really didn't understand why Billy kept her around.

She had never been unique. She wasn't amazingly beautiful, she wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, she had no outstanding skill whatsoever to speak of. Her fingers were too small, her arms were abnormally skinny, her legs a bit too short, and she personally thought her bust was the smallest bust the Lord had ever created. Her neck was as little too long, her forehead a little to big, her eyebrows didn't match up quite right, and her hair was always a tangle of dark curls that she had never liked to deal with. Sarah never understood why.

Why had Billy chosen to focus his endless affections on her, out of every beautiful, kind, brilliant girl in the universe? He could do so much better than her.

In fact, he deserved better than her.

He deserved better. Somebody special, somebody beautiful, somebody brilliant, somebody talented. Somebody perfect to match with Billy's perfection. He was too good, a too 'out-of-her-league' guy, and Sarah never saw what the perfect Quileute man saw in a poor, shy Michigan girl like her.

All the same, she was grateful for every second she spent with the perfect man and whatever luck He had given her for getting such a man as her husband. She gazed at her sleeping husband of twelve years, her friend for fifteen years. The man never failed to amaze her with his never-ending acceptance and his unobjectionable freedom. She traced his forehead, smoothing invisible lines of stress and running her long fingers over his sculpted eyebrows, trailing down to the slightly crooked bridge of his nose. She remembered the man Billy had punched in her defense and the horror of his bloodied nose. The slightest imperfection made her smile. The imperfection made him even more perfect, her mind murmured as her fingers swept over his eyelids that concealed her personal favorite part of Billy's face. His eyes, the deep chocolaty brown confection that always shown with love and affection he had collected for her over the years. She loved them. They always shown with the true character of Billy, his kindness and openness and the sheer blunt honesty that made Billy a great man. She continued to his smooth cheekbones and laugh lines around the corners of his mouth, to his strong jaw and finally to his full lips, a light, natural dark pink that stood out from his russet skin.

Smiling lightly, she kissed him chastely. Billy mumbled a bit in his sleep before dropping off into dreamland again. She pulled back the covers off her side and tucked Billy back in before making her way to the bathroom. The perfect man needed perfect, hot steaming food, after all.


Rachel shook her older sister awake. Rebecca always slept like a rock--Rachel ducked to avoid the flying fist aiming for her face--and never liked to be woken from her rock-like status. They were identical twins, and nobody else on the reservation could tell them apart. They took care to preserve their image; never once did they act out, never once did they wear different clothes. They wore the same make-up, used the same shampoo, gushed about the same things. Everything on the outside was the same and the pair was proud of it.

In the house, it was a big difference. Dad always said that they were able to do anything and everything they wanted in the house (except, they couldn't destroy the house and they couldn't bring any boys, no, not even little ones, home ever) and once he'd heard of their "exact twin" behavior at school, he had quickly put an end to it. "No faking in this house," he said. "If you think you need it at school, which I'm telling you, you don't, then be a pair. But at home, you are an individual. You can wear the same clothes and all that girly stuff, but you'll be your own person behind the scenes, do you hear me?" He shook his head. "That's my rule if you're living under this roof. No lying, no faking, no masks."

The instant they walked off the school bus, Rebecca was a hot-head and Rachel was a timid mouse. Their parents could always tell them apart. Mom was always very accommodating whenever they went clothes shopping. If both daughters went, they would buy two sets of everything. If one went, they would buy their own original clothes. Mom just seemed to like picking out clothes in general, Rachel mused, peering at her closet while her older sister (by a minute and a half) dragged herself out of bed. Rachel pulled out a pair of jeans, a dark green T-shirt, a brown fleece jacket and laid them out on the bed before pulling out a similar set for her sister. As the pair brushed their teeth and fixed any mussed hair, Rachel went back into the bedroom to change while Rebecca stayed in the bathroom and started to pull out accessories.

Fashion was normally a compromise between the two. Rebecca liked to keep up with fashion with her colorful bracelets and watches and acid-washed jeans. Rachel, on the other hand, didn't particularly care for it and was more than fine to go on with the day without dangling jewelry and expensive footwear. They developed a system. For one year, Rachel would choose the clothes they wore to school and Rebecca would choose the adornments. For the next year, Rebecca would choose the clothes and Rachel would choose the adornments. Both agreed not to go too far out that it was entirely obvious that they changed style, so Rebecca wasn't allowed to choose anything too outrageous from the conservative style Rachel had started them off as, and Rachel was forced to choose some shiny bangles or another.

In a way, they learned a lot from pretending. Compromise was an annoying thing to be done, but everything ended up better in the end. Keeping a secret was fun, and they'd never get tired of it. By teaming up, they could chase down problems better than they could do alone. People were intimidated by a duo and tried to separate them to get the uniqueness of who was who.

It helped a lot in new situations, such as their new house guest. And unlike the one time they'd brought in a soaked cat, it wasn't a pet. No, it was a person.

Mom wouldn't let them get a pet, but Dad could get a long-lost cousin.

And on every other normal, pleasant person in the world he could've gotten...

...he had to get a mentally unstable person.

Rebecca returned from the bathroom, wearing five metal bracelets on her left arm and a rainbow set of jelly bracelets on her right. Rachel had changed into the clothes she had picked out, and had decided to switch the green shirt with a light blue one. Both had gotten their mother's lighter coloring, which made them stand out among the Quileute population even more. Before long, both raced down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mom stood next to the stove, while Dad was already sitting at the table, munching away on his bacon. Little Jacob (soon enough, they were going to have to change that to 'Fat Jacob', Rachel thought absentmindedly) was giggling and gulping down his own breakfast. Harry ("The cutest baby on the planet," Rebecca had squealed the night of his arrival) was waving cheerfully at them with his fists filled with Cheerios. The babies were giggling and laughing among themselves.

The strangest thing was that the empty seat that had been added to their dinner table--wasn't empty. Sirius Black, the strange man neither of them knew, was sitting at the dinner table with his own plate of eggs. His hair had been washed and he seemed more awake than they'd ever seen him. He was even arguing the strangeness of American football with Billy. Rachel was confused, but tried not to say anything about it. Dad must have done something, she reassured. Dad fixed everything, even drunken cousins. They had seen Sirius behind the garage after school with his beer bottles, and hadn't said anything about it. If Dad agreed that Sirius should live with them, then Sirius would. Dad's judgment ruled the house. It was the unspoken rule; sometimes, Rachel thought Dad didn't even know it.

She gave Rebecca a meaningful look, before turning back to Mom. "Good morning dears," Mom greeted, handing them their plates before sitting in her own seat across from Rebecca. She smiled. "Any tests today?"

"Nope," Rebecca replied, shoveling eggs into her mouth. "except that spelling test, but you helped us study last night."

"Eat slower," Rachel told Rebecca. "You're going to choke at the rate you're going." She continued to eat at a normal pace, nibbling on her bacon and taking a sip of her milk.

"You say that every day! I haven't choked once yet." Rebecca retorted, taking a swig of her orange juice and shoveling in a chunk of bacon at the same time.

"Close your mouth at least. The contents are reminding me of a malfunctioning washing machine."

"Well, don't look over here then," she replied.

Rachel sighed. She gave up. Rebecca would never have manners. Maybe it was a fact of life or something.

The strange man sitting next to Dad cleared his throat. "Uh, sorry for not introducing myself earlier," he spoke with a British accent, Rachel noted. When had Dad been British? "I'm Sirius Black."

"D'you come from England?" Rebecca asked in an all-too Rebecca way. Rachel felt like slapping herself. How was she related to Rebecca?

"Uh, yeah." Sirius replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "London, England. I'm British."

"Are you where Rebecca's stupid genes come from?" she asked aloud. She'd observe him later, when Rebecca wasn't around. Until then, the role of idiotic children would have to be filled.

The man laughed loudly, collapsing in guffaws. Was it really that funny? Rachel didn't aspire to be a comedian..."Yeah, probably," he replied earnestly. "I'm as stupid as they come."

"He lies," her dad stated adamantly. "Maybe he's stupid, but he's got more than enough natural talent to make up for it."

"Billy, don't encourage him," Mom said in a no nonsense tone. "He's a horrendous prankster." She turned towards the twins. "Girls, stay away from him and if he gives you anything, refuse it."

Rachel nodded. "Will do, Ma." She mock-saluted before running out to the living room and grappling with both backpacks. No doubt Rebecca had accosted Sirius on his countless pranks and they were trading stories; she really didn't want to hear tales of her humiliation. By now, Rebecca would forget any sort of suspicion she had on Sirius. Rachel always thought Rebecca was a bit more naive and...annoyingly innocent. She dived head-first into anything that came her way, leaving Rachel to make up plans on the spot to bail them both out of trouble. Rebecca thought any fellow prankster couldn't be black-hearted, and anything Rachel said to contradict that ideal wouldn't end up pretty.

"Girls, time for school!"

"Okay!" both of them called back. Rachel came back with the backpacks while Rebecca put the dishes away. Both put on their white sneakers. "Have a fun day at school," her father called, kissing Mom on the cheek. "Have fun, don't blow up any toilets," Sirius said to Rebecca as they rushed out the door. They climbed into Mom's Honda Accord and drove off. Rebecca sat in the passenger seat and sung along to the radio stations. Rachel rested her head on the window and watched the passing scenery. The strange man had gotten out of his depression.

She could finally get some proper data and figure out exactly why he was here.


School was going slower than Rachel could ever imagine. Mrs. Wilson's English class stretched on for hours. They'd already taken and graded the spelling quizzes; Rachel scored a 100, and Rebecca scored a 97 (she missed 'depreciation'). They were reading A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare, and the reading was going slower than she had ever remembered.

The boy reading Quince was hesitant as ever. "Ay, or else one must come in with a bush of thorns and a leenthorn ("A lanthorn," the teacher interrupted, "is a lantern."), and say he comes to disfigure, or to present, the person of Moonshine. Then, there is another thing: we must have a wall in the great chamber; for Pi-ram-i-us," the boy pronounced carefully, "and This-bee says the story, did talk through the chink of a wall."

As the next person was about to read, the Ms. Wilson interrupted again. "Now, what does that mean?"

Nobody raised their hands.

Rachel dropped her head onto the table. Stupid idiots! she snarled.

The thunk echoed through the classroom. Rebecca looked worriedly on, but didn't lift her head in fear of getting bitten. "Ms. Black? Are you feeling okay?" Ms. Wilson asked.

"Fine, just fine," she mumbled.

"Oh, good! Seeing as you volunteered, why don't you tell me what the passage means?"

Rachel wondered how many times she'd have to hit her head on a desk until she blacked out.


Rebecca grabbed Rachel's tray along with her own. They had the same lunch account (mostly because the lunch lady got confused as to who was who), and Rachel tiredly punched the buttons. They sat at an empty table, a little ways from their normal table full of friends who were simply bursting with gossip. Rachel didn't gossip herself, but she liked to absorb information and Rebecca liked to gossip, so it usually worked out.

"Are you alright?" Rebecca asked, opening her carton of chocolate milk as Rachel opened her carton. "Fine," she mumbled around the buttery roll.

"Yeah right," Rebecca snorted. "You just try to lose a dozen brain cells every English class. I know Joe was reading slow, but he's a scaredy-cat and I think you traumatized him--again."

"I've never traumatized him before!" Rachel argued.

"Well, I have," Rebecca said with no small amount of pride. "And he can't tell the difference between us, so it might as well have been you."

Rachel sighed. "Seriously, what's wrong?" Rebecca stopped joking, pushing her tray to the side and laying her arm on Rachel's shoulder. "You're not sick or something are you? Come on, let's go to the nurse's office and I'll tell dad to come pick you up."

"I'm not sick," Rachel disagreed, digging her heels into the floor. "I'm fine."

Rebecca retook her seat, but the worried gaze still remained. "Liar."

"We'll talk at home, okay?" Rachel replied. Rebecca wouldn't let it go. "There's nothing medically wrong with me, I swear."

"Mentally? Psychologically? Rach, tell me, is this teenage-angst sort of thing or is it something really, really important you should be telling me?"

"Becca, I'm fine. Mentally, psychologically, physically, and any other -ically thing you can think of. No, I'm not in any sort of teenage-angst, and no, it's not that important. I'm just not in the mood to deal with school today, okay?"

Rebecca might not have been as smart as Rachel was, but she wasn't really all that stupid either. The only reason why Rachel hadn't skipped a grade (or three) was because of Rebecca. She didn't want to leave her behind to the nosy kids who would've been sure to bother her if Rachel did choose to skip a grade. As such, Rebecca was fine in a 7th grade Pre-AP class schedule. Rachel, on the other hand, was always severely under challenged. Rachel had a photographic memory and a habit of taking in what everybody said and pulling out the important bits. Rebecca never really did that, but she listened to the few people she knew wouldn't lie: Rachel.

Rachel usually got headaches every once in awhile from all the annoying things in the curriculum. The kids read too slow, the teachers explained too much, the math was too simple, the facts too repeated. Rebecca tried to help, but there wasn't much she could do apart from massage Rachel's head, which didn't work every time.

Rebecca normally felt entirely useless when it came to Rachel. Most she could do was cheer her up on a crappy day or worry about her whenever she complained, but there wasn't really anything she could do to treat the problems apart from letting Rachel skip a grade. Rebecca was a little selfish in that regard; she didn't want Rachel to go, and hoped that Rachel didn't want to be separated from her either.


The school day was finally over. Both Black twins had never been happier to go home. Rebecca, to finally figure out was wrong with Rachel, and Rachel, to finally figure out the miraculous change in the guest. They both boarded number 83, which was one of the more crowded buses, and sat in the same seat next to each other. Normally, both would have joined the conversations running around them, but Rachel was quiet, and to remain the twin thing (and maybe out of a little worry, but she'd never admit it), Rebecca had to be quiet too. Rachel pulled out their mother's Walkman, and both of them plugged their headphones into the cassette player.

When they were at their stop nearly forty minutes later, they scrambled off the bus with five other kids and raced home.

Rachel couldn't wait to get to know the new mystery called Sirius Black.


I wanted to have this chapter sort of get more in depth with the rest of the Black family because they aren't seen at all (apart from being mentioned by Jacob) in Twilight, and I've always had a thing for wondering what kind of person the minor characters were.