The Last of the Blacks

Chapter 35: Hurt

Sirius couldn't sleep.

It was a common problem when someone told him about hs family's darkness for him to stay up all night and think about what he had heard.

The Weasleys went upstairs long before the ball ended. When it did, Cassiopea, Daphne and Kol were whispering to some boy in the shadows before he ran after his mother.

Blaise Zabini, he realized when he saw the mother.

Sirius turned his head to the door when it opened.

"You're awake?" Cassie asked. She was dressed in her pyjamas, her hair-braided in two braids. He took one look at her and nodded. "Can I stay? I had a nightmare."

"Sure."

Sirius made some place in the bed for his daughter and she laid down. She looked up at him with a soft smile. "Your bed is more comfortable than mine."

"Impossible," he whispered in the dark. "Your is softer. I'm sure of it." He smiled at his little girl. "What was the nightmare about?"

She shook her head. "I didn't come for late-night confession. Or at least not from this type."

"What type then?"

"I got drunk when I was 8," she admitted. "I was alone in... Aunt Andromeda's house. Remus was supposed to take care of me, but he had... Work. I guess he was watching over Potter."

Sirius had noticed that Cassie was calling Harry 'Potter' more and more these days. He didn't mind of course, but some other people did.

"Whatever it was, he didn't show up."

"Maybe it was a full moon..."

"No, the full moon was after two weeks. Whatever. Aunt Andromeda decided that I can do very well on my own. And I drank a whole bottle of fire-whiskey. Remus showed up an hour later. He said that I was laughing like an idiot, swearing, talking shit about most of the things I didn't understand back then. I don't remember anything. But it was worth it. For the first time I didn't feel anything. I was free. I was feeling epic according to Remus' words. "

She laughed at herself.

"I said that I was going to say to aunt Andromeda that he let me get drunk. So we kept it a secret."

Sirius listened once again. Once again he listened as his daughter was telling him the truth about her childhood. About the childhood he thought was so happy and beautiful.

But in reality it was nothing like that. It was break downs, going to psychologist, bad dreams and getting drunk.

"Then I drank a few times a week. Every single week. And my aunt never found out. Dora did. She helped me. She said that I was... That I had a problem. And she helped me," she repeated.

"I drank as well when I was a teenager."

"I was 8," she said. "I wasn't supposed to know what alcohol was."

Sirius didn't answer. He wanted to ask if there is anything else. Was there anything he needed to know about his daughter's problems.

But he didn't. He waited.

"I don't think I have ever wanted to drink so badly than today."

"Me too."

"Can I smoke?"

"Sweetheart," he looked at her, "you're an alcoholic. I don't think I should give you anything else than water."

"Dad," she turned to him, her hands shaking. "Do I think I am broken?"