Black, Meet Black

The author's comments: This story is a Harry Potter/Twilight fan-fiction. I thought it would be cool to bring the two series together. Standing in the center of Grimmuald Place, was a shaggy black dog sitting curiously still. He seemed to be staring at the place between the houses marked 11 & 13. Suddenly the houses started moving apart and a new house grew in between them. The black dog immediately bounded up the steps leading to the front door. Once inside, the black dog transformed into none other then Sirius Black. “Kreacher!” called Sirius. After hurried footsteps, an elf like creature entered the room. “Yes master Black?” squeaked the elf. “Go up to the attic and bring me the picture of my family tree.” “Right away master.” And with a low bow, he left the room. Ever since that morning when Sirius was looking through the old records at the Ministry, he’d been wondering if what he saw could somehow be related to him. As he walked into the drawing room, the little elf turned the corner carrying a huge frame above his head. “Ah!” said Sirius, “Now we shall see.” Blowing the dust off of the frame, Sirius immediately saw what he was looking for. “Yes! I knew I’d read that name somewhere before.” “Jacob Black, My niece’s son.” “It said on the report that he is one of a pack of werewolves that doesn’t become a werewolf until he becomes older, never even has to be bitten.” A week later, Sirius located Jacob and decided to pay him a visit. He was very curious to meet this boy. Sirius thought all of his family was dead before now. He concentrated very hard on where he had to go, and with a loud “crack” he vanished. He reappeared in front of a large house located near La Push Beach. He started toward the house and stopped in his tracks when he saw that there was a boy coming out of the house pushing a man in a wheelchair. Sirius watched as the boy pushed the man over to a waiting car and helped him inside. Once the car had driven away, the boy sprinted into an old shed behind the house. “That must be him.” thought Sirius. Once again he started off, this time to the shed. It seemed to take him a surprisingly long time to reach the door when he finally reached out his hand and knocked. There were strange sounds coming from behind the door. It sounded like someone was moving things around. “Coming!” called Jacob. The door swung open suddenly, and Sirius came face to chest with Jacob Black for the first time. “May I help you?” Jacob asked in a rough tone. It startled Sirius to see how tall Jacob was, “He looks about three feet taller then me!” he thought. After Sirius got over the shock, he cleared his throat and said: “Yes, let me introduce myself, my name is Sirius Black and I am your Great Uncle.” “I came here out of curiosity….” Suddenly Jacob made a face, as if he smelled something foul. “This man has a strange scent, almost like a………” A sudden thought occurred to Jacob, “This man isn’t human, He’s one of them! A bloodsucker!” “You see, I’ve never met anyone like you before--“ continued Sirius. “You can’t fool me! I know what you are!” Jacob Bellowed. “Excuse me?” “You’re a bloodsucker! You smell just like them!” “You must be mistake----“ but Sirius never got to finish his sentence, for Jacob had changed into a giant red wolf and lunged at his uncle's throat.

SARA JACOBELLI: Saturday Nights at the Tropicana

We’d ride uphill past the tavern in Poppy’s ancient Cadillac. I pictured a tuxedo-clad Ricky Ricardo crooning love songs to Lucy, twirling on the dance floor, backed up by a big band. I’d wave to the hollow-eyed scratching junkies slouched against the wall. They’d wave back, baffled by the attention. Sara Jacobelli lives in New … Continue reading SARA JACOBELLI: Saturday Nights at the Tropicana →


I float beneath the ceiling. On the red carpet, my body glows: satin, silk, jewelry worth ten times my parents’ house. My body hugs cast members, producers. Gets felt up. I miss home. The afterparty. I ride a thick line of cocaine back into my body. Feeling whole… doesn’t last. Maura Yzmore is a Midwest-based … Continue reading MAURA YZMORE: Ephemera →


Her father noticed she was still playing with the pile of tea bags. “Shall we put them away now, darling?” “Leave them. They’re my friends.” She had discovered beings that exactly resembled her true form, albeit of limited intelligence. Her next report would certainly create a stir on the mothership. David Mark Williams lives in … Continue reading DAVID MARK WILLIAMS: Tea Bags →


18: The pelican on my shoulder reminds me to slow things down, live calmly. 25: The snake slithering up my arm symbolizes willful and unapologetic action. 33: The rose on my wrist shows me that beauty can stem from new beginnings. “Dad, what do your tattoos mean?” “Nothing,” I say. Jonah Ardiel lives and writes … Continue reading JONAH ARDIEL: Tattoo →

AUTUMN LALA: Bloody Blanchett

Something wasn’t right. Detective Tift examined his suspect. Newlywed Scott Blanchett scratched the dried blood flaking his wrists, sobbing all the while. This case was clear-cut. They had enough evidence. “Why don’t you just admit it?” Tift asked. A pause. A sniffle. “I can’t admit to what I can’t remember.” Autumn Lala lives in Ohio, … Continue reading AUTUMN LALA: Bloody Blanchett →