The idea for this fic just whacked me over the head the other day, and I'm just following where it leads me. This chapter is more a prologue than anything.
Disclaimer: The characters in the HP-verse all belong to JKR, and I claim no ownership of them. This is just for fun.
This is my first ever HP fic and I'm kind of excited for it. Reviews would be lovely if you enjoy it, which I hope you will :)
Chapter summary: Remus mulls over some thoughts that only being a teenager can make you think.
It was strange how lonely you could feel while surrounded by people, Remus thinks.
From time to time, when he is sitting with his friends, whether they're devising a new plan to torture Severus Snape (Remus tries hard not to take any active involvement in these; unfortunately his protests of "but I'm a prefect!" only cause Sirius to laugh at him, and increase his coaxing) or merely sitting, groggy in a way that only teenage boys can be, passing bacon and toast to one another at breakfast, Remus is suddenly overcome with an irrational feeling of isolation.
He's not like them. Well, obviously, the werewolf thing. Sometimes in his more selfish moments he is frustrated that he can't make them understand. They'd let him talk about it until he is blue in the face, but what is the point if they can't understand the feeling of your mind slipping over to that of an animal, or rather a beast, with no grace of instinct whatsoever? Only rage. Rage and hunger. What is the point if they can't understand the feeling of your bones elongating and twisting under your skin? The feeling? The pain, he corrects. The inescapable pain, and the knowledge that it would happen every single month. Even when the pain wasn't there, he was afraid of it, because he knew it would come back.
Admittedly they did know what it was like to wake up naked in the Shrieking Shack the next morning, covered in interesting bruises and occasionally bitemarks and clawmarks, creating a scene that Remus would rather explain away as being a hormone-fuelled orgy than what it actually was -- one werewolf, not in control of himself or his hunger, and his three friends, who learned how to transform into animals to give him comfort, to protect people from him during the full moon because they knew that the real Remus, the boy, their friend, would never be able to forgive himself if he hurt anyone innocent. His three friends who have often taken the brunt of his purely animalistic, instinctive rage, the attacks of his teeth and claws, to distract him, for the safety of those innocent people around him, for his own safety.
With all this in mind, Remus doesn't know how he could ever feel alone -- he has three friends who risk their lives on a monthly basis keeping him out of trouble. When they found out what he was, they could have fled, as many others had before them and yet more would after them, but instead, they dedicated hours upon hours to learning the complex spell that would transfigure them, probably putting in more time on it than they had on revision for their entire school careers. He would never be able to tell them how grateful he was for that, but it was like an unspoken thing between them; he didn't have to.
But setting all that aside, for the weeks of the month where Remus Lupin is just Remus Lupin, he still isn't like them. He is Remus Lupin (and more's the pity, he often thinks to himself).
He's not like James, James who is all tousled hair ("windswept," James would insist, as he explained how he woke up with it that way naturally, and it looked like he'd just stepped off a broom which was dead heroic, although he wasn't fooling anyone by pretending that he didn't spend thirty minutes on it in the morning, and ten times that checking it, smoothing it back, mussing it up, throughout the day) and a natural leader and with an ego the size of France (but he somehow gets that to work for him, instead of just coming off looking like a prat, and after years of friendship Remus still hasn't figured out his secret). James, who is captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and one of the best Chasers the team has had for years. James and his heart of gold; behind the arrogant facade and his general aura of invincibility, he is a complete and utter insecure mess in front of girls and this is an awkward mixture of endearing and embarrassing to watch.
He's certainly not like Sirius, who is all white teeth and wicked grin and trysts in dark, empty classrooms (he takes a sadistic delight in toying with young girls' emotions that Remus thinks should be outlawed, but which the girls seem to love, inexplicably). Sirius is on the Quidditch team too, as a Beater, and that matches his personality -- blunt, forceful, no-nonsense. Remus has voiced the opinion that Sirius has all the maturity of a six-year-old on many occasions; Sirius never helped his case by looking as if it were a compliment. Sirius is loud, completely devoid of tact, and endlessly infuriating... but also endlessly fun to be around, and fiercely loyal.
He's not even like Peter, who is one of the most unstoppably optimistic people Remus has ever met. Sirius makes fun of him a great deal of the time and, on the rare occasions that Peter catches on, he laughs too. Perhaps it's just easy familiarity with the group that allows him the knowledge that Sirius is just messing about; his words can be tipped with acid at times but he only does it because he's bored, and they're always, on close inspection, devoid of any real malice. Peter is braver than people give him credit for, Remus has noted, and his uncrushable enthusiasm and genuine, clear delight at being part of the group easily cemented his place in it.
Remus is musty old books and slightly threadbare jumpers. Remus is chocolate and awkwardness; Remus is not tall, he is gangly. Remus is placid calm and comfort (and, alright, someone has to be the comforting one, but when he thinks about it he just envisions himself as a gigantic old teddy, missing an eye and with one ear half chewed off). Remus is the peacekeeper, the prefect, at times, in spite of everything, he considers himself to be the only sane one. But he does not consider himself to be particularly brave, or optimistic, or really, when he's being completely honest with himself, all that fun to be around.
It's not that he's not accepted, or anything. The four of them see each other as something more than best friends and closer to brothers, thanks in part to the secret they share concerning Remus' "time of the month" (as Sirius insists on calling it every single time). They spend all their free time together and have yet to get sick of each other. No, it's definitely not that any of them dislike him, or vice versa.
It's just... feeling like he doesn't fit in from time to time, like everyone else is so much more accomplished than he is; like everyone else is on a completely different planet sometimes.
Is it really a werewolf thing? Remus ponders. Or is it just... a teenage boy sort of thing?
