"Where then?"
"Not on this Earth."
Hattie Black is the daughter of Sirius Black. Growing up she never had a set home, her parents weren't together and that meant she had to change between houses all of the time. Even during school holidays when she...
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* * *
That night after an hour of stargazing, Remus and Hattie settled down in the same room as Sirius and Peter at the Burrow. Remus waited until Hattie was asleep and he let out a shaky breath. He knew what it is like to hate himself and to feel like he doesn't belong but he had never felt that way when it came to family.
It disgusted him that everyone had made Hattie feel excluded and unwanted and it disgusted him further that it was the root cause of her depression and suicidal thoughts.
Remus could feel the anger surging through his veins at Sirius in particular. He knew exactly what it felt like, being neglected by family. He had first hand experienced his mother having a favourite child that was not him. But at least it was her own son, eh? Sirius favourited a child who wasn't even his own! A child who has his own parents to do everything with him.
Hattie didn't have her mother and father. Her mother neglected her for work and her boyfriend whilst Sirius neglected her for another child.
It got to the point where Remus felt like crying himself. He is too scared to settle down with anyone and have children because of his lycanthropy. He believes he would never be a good father but to have Hattie tell him that she would want him as a father rather than her actual one did ignite a feeling in Remus that he never thought he would feel. He wasn't ashamed of it either.
Hattie shifted in her self-holding Remus' shirt tighter in her small hands and she exhaled a few snores tumbling out of her lips. Such a subtle movement had sent Remus back over a decade to when Hattie was a toddler and had padded into his room the night after a full moon.
Remus slept peacefully that night, fatigue overpowering him as he recovered from the previous night of transformation. He was a rather deep sleeper when it came to the nights prior to a full moon and the nights succeeding one and he didn't feel three-year-old Hattie creep into his room and stop and stare for a short moment.
"Uncle Moony..." She sighed quietly, "I don't like you getting hurt."
The young girl hauled herself onto the bed and under the covers wrapping her arms around the sleeping man and buried her face into his chest. "Get better soon, Uncle Moony." She whispered and shut her eyes.
The next morning, Remus awoke and was not expecting to find Hattie cuddled into him. A small smile tugged at his lips as she breathed out and le a few tiny snores slip, snuggling closer.
Those were the times Remus wished he could take Hattie back to. The days before she fell into a bottomless pit of numbness. You probably are thinking, he can, just use a time-turner. But things aren't that simple. If he was to meddle with time anything could change and he could potentially make it worse.
It took Remus a while until he eventually fell asleep, holding Hattie close to him so that he didn't lose her.
A door opened down the hall and the person crept out of their room, making their way to Ginny's room, sticking their head around the door only to find Hermione and Ginny asleep, no Hattie. Sighing they checked out of the window and saw no Hattie there either.
They snuck to Remus, Sirius and Peter's room and slowly pushed the door open a crack and felt at ease to see Hattie in with her uncle, sleeping soundly.
Charlie shut the door behind him and returned to his and Bill's room. Of course, he still cared about her but felt there was nothing he could do to help her if she didn't want it. So he just watched everything happen.
* * *
Back at school, things seemed to just get worse and worse for Hattie, unless she was with Dallin. Dallin made everything feel all right and that nothing mattered in the world but them.
The months went by rather quickly and it swiftly got to April. Umbridge had become headmistress and Dumbledore was fired. Everything was in shambles. Hattie was hated even more by those she classed as family because, like many other Slytherins, Hattie was part of Umbridge's inquisitorial squad, because Dallin made her join.
She hated being horrible to Harry and everyone else but Dallin said it would be a good thing to do and Dallin is always right.
Currently it was late in the evening, but still before curfew when Hattie sat in her dormitory. She had the curtains shut around her bed as she let tears slip down her rosy cheeks. A week since she last threw up and a week since she last ate, surviving only on water and milk because pumpkin juice is gross. Her blade was slicing her forearm when she heard Pansy Parkinson and a few other girls talking.
"I know I have my Drakey but I don't understand how Dallin chose that Harriet sissy instead of you Octavia. You are so much better than her! She is a pussy and so childlike even my four-year-old cousin is more mature than her! Plus, her blood-traiting father is down to that! Don't worry Occy, there is only one reason why he is with her! To get in her knickers of course! She's an easy goer!" Cackled Pansy which shocked Hattie into slipping her blade accidentally further across her arm.
Hattie winced as she heard Octavia Huddleston replied, "I know, Harriet Black is a useless, no-good piece fo dirt on the bottom of my shoe! If she killed herself everything would be much better! Her daddy probably hates her for being in the noble house of Slytherin!"
Her breathing got quicker as everything the girls had said clogged her brain, along with pictures of her mother leaving with Todd and Sirius with Harry. Her family disregarding her and Charlie being angry with her added to it all.
They all hate her!
Dallin is using her!
Charlie is angry with her!
She doesn't deserve to live!
She doesn't want to live!
The diary that Charlie gave her caught her eye and she tore it from her bedside table as the other girls left the dormitory. Opening it she grabbed her quill dunked it into ink and wrote one simple word, a tear dripping onto the page and mixing with the ink.
