Memories of the Past

"So, Skyler dear, how old did you say you were?" Mrs. Weasley asked, making small talk around the fire.

"Seventeen, but I'll be eighteen in a couple months."

"So, that means you were...how old during the last war?" Mrs. Weasley continued, trying to pry information from her. Skyler and her father exchanged a look, both knowing what she was doing.

"I was three, almost four, when me and my mom went to Brooklyn," Skyler answered, trying not to sound annoyed.

"So, Sirius, when you had her...you were...what?"

"Molly there's plenty of time for this later," her husband told her, unsuccessful in his attempt to help them evade his wife's interrogation.

"Skyler was born a few months after we left Hogwarts," Sirius told her exasperatedly.

"Oh my," Mrs. Weasley tried to sound shocked, but no one bought it. After a look from her husband she changed the subject, but not by much. "So, dear, where's your mother? Surely she didn't let you come here all by yourself."

Skyler clenched her fists, though no one except her father noticed. "She's gone," she told Mrs. Weasley calmly through gritted teeth.

Mrs. Weasley was about to say something, but Skyler got up first, trying to avoid further conversation on the subject. She bid everyone goodnight and went upstairs and got ready for bed.

As she was standing over the sink in the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror, she flash-backed to the conversation she'd overheard the night before.

"Did you see her? She must be his daughter. All those tattoos, and piercings. Can you imagine the affect this will have on our children? They'll start to think that kind of rebellious behavior is acceptable. And what about poor Harry? How do you think he's going to take this?" Mrs. Weasley was ranting to her husband.

"Oh, Molly. Honestly, Harry is his godson, I'm sure he's thought about that. We've raised our children right, we don't need to worry about them. Besides, she seems like a nice girl. Just give her a chance."

"What was her mother thinking? Letting her child run wild. And why on earth is she OK with letting her daughter travel this far to see a man who doesn't have the slightest clue about how to be a father. No wonder they left. That child needs discipline!"

KNOCK KNOCK.Skyler was awakened out of her flashback.

"Just a sec," she said, opening the door to find her father.

"You OK?" he asked.

"I'm fine, I was just getting ready for bed," she told him calmly.

"I know what you were doing, I'm just not sure I believe the whole 'I'm fine' routine," he said, with a slightly concerned look on his face.

"Well, I am," she lied with ease. Years of practice had taught her that repetition usually knocked away the doubt.

"Liar," he accused.

"Am not," she said defensively, walking into her bedroom.

"Oh come on Sky, you're the one who said you knew when I was lying because you got it from me. You really think I'm not gonna recognize my own technique?" he asked, watching her closely. She took a deep breath.

"I just hate talking about mom, OK? It makes me angry," Skyler admitted.

"Do you really hate your mother that much?" he sighed.

"Don't you?" she snapped.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he retorted, walking over closer to her.

"Come on, you can't tell me you didn't hate it when she walked out on you, taking me with her," Skyler accused, knowing she'd hit a nerve when he winced at the memory.

"Of course I hated it! I hated it, but I didn't hate her," he snapped. Skyler didn't look him in the eye, just walked over and sat on the bed. Sirius sighed and walked over to his daughter, bending down in front of her so that he was eye-level.

"You still love her, don't you?" Skyler muttered, still not looking at him.

"Yes, I do. But Skyler, look at me," he said, turning her face to look at him. "I love you more than anything, and when you guys left it was like a part of me was gone. I hated it, it was hell, but I never hated your mother, not for a second. You shouldn't either."

"Why not?" she retorted. "You hate your mother. Maybe it's a tradition, Blacks hate their mothers." Sirius couldn't help but laugh.

"So, when you have kids, you want them to hate you?" he retorted back.

"Who says I'm even gonna have kids?" she asked, the attitude she'd acquired growing up in the streets of Brooklyn shining through. He cocked his head sideways, giving her a look.

"Come on smart ass, just answer the question," he pushed.

"Fine, I guess not," she sighed exasperatedly, rolling her eyes.

"Oh-kay," he said, drawing the word out for effect. "Think about that next time you say you hate your mother," he added. Skyler rolled her eyes at him again. He smiled. "Now, get some sleep, I'll see you in the morning." He got up, kissing her forehead.

"Night dad."

"Night kiddo, I love you," he told her as he was leaving.

"Love you too."

Skyler laid there, for what seemed like hours, thinking about everything. About what she'd overheard, her conversation with her father, and her mother. She was used to being alone, taking care of herself, and not worrying about anyone but herself. She finally had the family she'd wanted for so long, her father. Despite that fact, though, Skyler couldn't shake the memory of when her mother left her.

"WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME?" Skyler yelled at her mother, desperate for more information about her father.

"Because he's done a lot of bad things, I don't want you ending up like him!" Her mother said loudly, though not quite yelling.

"HE DIDN'T DO IT! They were his best friends, why would he kill them? Why would he kill innocent people?" Skyler wasn't letting it go, and her temper was flaring.

"HOW THE HELL SHOULD I KNOW? Now stop yelling and let this go!"

"NO!"

"You're too damn much like him!"

The next day when Skyler got home from school, she was dreading talking to her mother. She'd gotten into trouble at school again, but the school hadn't reached her yet, no doubt she knew by now though. It would be yet another reason she was getting more and more like her father.

"Mom? Skyler called when she walked into the apartment.

No answer. That's strange, Skyler thought, figuring she'd be getting an earful by now. She walked into her mother's bedroom to find it empty. All the drawers open and empty, closet bare with only a few hangers, but the pictures were still there. She had taken everything of hers, but nothing that would remind her of Skyler or Sirius.

Eight year old Skyler recognized the sight, almost identical to when they had left England, except Skyler had grabbed a few pictures. Her mother had left them all this time. Skyler sank to the floor and cried for about an hour before she composed herself and found a neighbor. That neighbor had called social services, and Skyler started bouncing around from foster home to foster home.

Skyler hated that memory. It was the main reason she hated her mother. When she left England with her mother she wrote a quick messy note, she was only just starting to write full sentences after all, for her father, but her mother didn't know about that. Her mother hadn't left Skyler a note. What hurt the most, though, was that her mother hadn't taken any reminders of Skyler, as if she'd wanted to forget she even had a daughter.

Even after everything, Skyler didn't think she'd had a horrible childhood. Her mother was usually a pretty good mom as long as Skyler didn't mention her father. Even after, when she was in foster care, Skyler didn't hate that so much. She pretty much took care of herself. Sure she broke a lot of rules, even went to juvie a couple times, but Skyler hadn't cared. In fact, she thought it was better than some of her foster homes. She learned martial arts so she wouldn't get beat up or raped again, and it had also helped keep her alive while she was living on the streets when she'd run away, which was often.

Skyler was flooded with memories of the past seventeen years, and ended up crying herself to sleep by about three in the morning.