Dear Sylvia, I hope you like this. I'm sorry it isn't Marauder bromance, but that wasn't working right...Ily dear xx
(Thank you Jasmine, Being A Wallflower, for Beta-ing!)
Tied Together With A Smile
You look at yourself in the mirror. At first, there is a shimmery, transparent picture of a young man with light brown hair that was prematurely flecked with grey. His brown eyes looked much older and sadder than any thirty-four year old man's eyes should look. You take note of the scars that line his face and suddenly the image changes. In the place of a man there now lies a monster.
The monster seems more real, not like the image of the man. This shimmering reflection shows the real you, for you know you are a monster, despite what your friends say. You smile, and the monster in the mirror bares it's fangs. You stare at the frightening image and it stares back, unblinking, menacingly.
The image stares at you, the monster stares at you. You know this is cliché, but you lift your hand and watch as the monster lifts its paw. You move your fingers, and it curls its deadly claws.
You come to the conclusion that you are the monster. It must be so, for why would the mirror lie? Sirius often tried to tell you in school that being a werewolf is nothing to be ashamed of, that it is not your fault that you turn into a savage beast once a month.
The Marauders, your family, your brothers in all but blood, they saw 'the wolf' and they saw 'Remus.' They weren't like you, you know that 'the wolf' and 'Remus' are one and the same. Interchangeable. No different. Mirror images. The same. Identical.
You're a monster, and you know it. Why should you have friends who care so much about you? Why should they have to risk their lives by becoming animagi for you? Once a month you endanger people, running around with a stag, a dog and a rat. You know you endanger their lives, and you know you aren't worth it.
Your breath hitches as the image seems to brighten and sharpen and become more real with every self deprecating (that is what James would call it - he sees the world through rose-tinted glasses, you prefer to call it the truth) thought.
You can feel the tears prick behind your eyes and you know you are about to cry. No one knows just how much you hate yourself, no one can see the struggle that you maintain on a daily basis to keep your head held high and not just break down.
Your lycanthropy was exposed.
Freak.
Monster.
Werewolf.
Scarface.
Stay away from me.
Man eater.
Half breed.
Repulsive.
You don't deserve to live.
Freak. Monster. Scarface. Stay away from me. Man eater. Half breed. Repulsive. You don't deserve to live.
The tears stream down your face as you recall all the angry words so full of hate that were screamed at you after you were exposed.
The worst part is, that you know they are true, you are a freak and you are a monster and you couldhave been a child killer and a man eater. You can't ignore the changes on the children's faces. Once upon a time you were their favourite teacher, they respected you, loved you even. Now you are a monster, an animal that should be put down. A man who doesn't deserve to walk the ground that they walk on.
Some pity you, some hate you, some are so disgusted by you that they can't even look at you anymore.
You know you deserve it. What were you thinking, getting a job at Hogwarts? What made you think that the only good thing in your miserable, impoverished life would actually work out?
You know you are bitter, and you know you are insecure but you just can't help it.
All you want is to be accepted. All you want is to go back to the days where James wasn't dead and Sirius wasn't an accused mass murderer and Peter wasn't a traitor. You want to go back to the days where people cared about you, where you had your three best friends who kept you company on the full moons, who kept your spirits up and called you an idiot for thinking they would hate you if they knew what you were.
But now, you're tied together with a smile. You're hanging on by a thread. You're standing on an ocean cliff, just ready to jump into the roaring waves and vanish.
Once upon a time, you were the golden boy of Hogwarts. You were smart, you had friends, people liked you.
Back then, you looked in the mirror and you saw a boy.
Now all you see is a monster.
You keep your heart guarded, you refuse to let people in. You slowly forget what it is like to have friends, for now you live in fear that if people knew what you really were they'd leave you. (They all do, in the end.)
You are a monster.
It is your past, it's your present, and it's your future.
That is what you tell yourself, it is why you can't get a job, why you are so alone, it is the reason for all your problems.
You are a monster.
The time passes, things change. Sirius dies, you meet Nymphadora, you have Teddy, Peter dies.
But you are still a monster.
Nymphadora becomes your friend, then your partner, then your wife, then the mother of your son. But most of all, she is the one constant in your life that helps you fill the void left behind by James. That void expanded when you found out Peter was a traitor. It eventually threatened to take over your whole heart when Sirius died.
But she was there, to fill it. She took over their role of telling you that you aren't a monster, and that she loves you and she needs you. She always makes a note to tell you that every single day.
Slowly the void becomes smaller, your confidence grows, and when you look in the mirror you start to see an ageing man, with a proud smile on his ruggedly handsome features. There is now more grey than brown in your hair, you have a few more scars, a few more lines. But you don't have fangs, nor fur, and the mirror-you has fingers, not claws.
When you look in the mirror, you no longer see the wolf.
You start to see you. You begin to see 'Remus.'
When the battle of Hogwarts comes around, you take Nymphadora's hand, you tell her you love her and your final though before that green light comes is,
I am Remus Lupin, I am the last Marauder standing, and I am not a monster.