Set Lily's sixth year. A one-shot between her and Remus Lupin. Rated for safety; I don't know if it's *really* a T. Anything recognisable is Rowling's. Reviews are greatly appreciated!
To See Past It
The Marauders. The four Marauders. Lily couldn't think of a group of people who caused her more aggravation and irritation. Well, in all honesty, she didn't have much against Pettigrew, who seemed to mainly keep to himself and acquiesce to the others. Black was alright, albeit almost comically arrogant. Most of the contempt she felt toward the group was sparked by its ringleader.
James Potter, the egotistical toe rag Lily had loathed with every fibre of her being for the five and a half years she'd had the unfathomable misfortune of knowing him. She despised every last one of his habits and mannerisms: his unabated attempts to woo her, the way he ran his fingers through his unruly black hair, (she doubted the man would recognise a comb if he entered the Great Hall to find one eating his breakfast) the smug smirk that she was beginning to believe was fixed on his face via Permanent Sticking Charm.
In fact, the only Marauder she felt close to at all was Remus Lupin, her fellow prefect. They had grown closer since she had revealed her knowledge of his secret last year. He was the most stoic and thoughtful of the Marauders, and to her, the most fascinating. The aura of mystery that surrounded him left Lily captivated.
"Lily?" a curious and faintly concerned voice asked, interrupting her swirling thoughts and dispersing them like wisps of smoke.
She turned to face the owner of the inquisitive voice and found herself eye to eye with Remus Lupin. His wand was held aloft and lit like a flashlight. The light from his glowing wand and the torches lining the corridors danced across his face, illuminating his exhausted features. He looked too worn out for his mere sixteen years of life.
"Hi, Remus."
"Quiet night," he mused softly as the duo paced the darkened hallways back and forth. Back and forth, pretending to patrol.
"You're looking unnaturally pale," Lily observed.
"Maybe it's the lighting."
"When's the transformation?" she asked, rolling her emerald eyes in disbelief. He still couldn't accept that she knew. Half his life was consumed by his desperation to hide what he was.
"Two days," he finally sighed, eyes downcast and voice tainted with shame.
"Moony, why do you hate yourself so much?" The words tumbled out before she could stop them, and she mentally kicked herself for sounding so childish.
"Well, because I'm a monster," he replied simply, as though his lycanthropy was some sort of joke.
'Flippant arsehole,' Lily thought to herself. "Only one day out of the month," she reminded him. "Could be worse."
"I'm extremely dangerous, Lily! Everyone hates my kind, I put my closest friends in harm's way all the time-"
"You have to stop despising yourself! You hate yourself like I hate James and it's ridiculous!' she yelled, voice rising with heated anger.
"Damn it, Evans!" Remus shouted. Lily's eyes widened when she saw a flash of fury dance across his golden brown irises. He groaned in frustration, pulling fistfuls of his sandy brown hair. "Can't you see-"
"Of course I see, Remus!" she exclaimed. "Don't you get it? It's not that I see it; it's that I see past it!"
The werewolf's anguished movements stilled. His voice dropped to a dangerous low. "What do you mean?"
She let out a cry of exasperation and sat down on the cold floor, leaning against the wall. "I mean that I understand your condition but I don't hate you because of it," she explained. "You bloody idiot," she added under her breath.
"I heard that," he said sternly, though his lips curved up into a smile. He sat next to her, laying his wand down between them, the tip still lit.
"Remus?" she whispered.
He turned to face her, his head still leaning back on the wall. For a long moment, neither one made a single sound. Lily scrutinised him carefully. His pallid skin sported countless gashes and scars. Long, greyish coloured marks marred his arms, neck, and face, evidence of painful wounds. Lily outstretched a hand to his face, her fingers tracing a short scar on his cheek. He jolted at the disturbance, eyes widening with surprise.
"What-"
"I don't know, Remus," Lily admitted honestly, fingers running over a long, thin scar across his face.
"I…I, um…I don't…"
"They're just scars, Moony," Lily began in an uncharacteristically serene tone. "And your lycanthropy is just a condition. And the people in your life that matter can see past that, and know you for who you really are."
Silence descended upon the two of them. Lily could practically see Remus's self-loathing decrease.
"Thank you, Lily," he murmured.
He craned his head upward to look out of one of the small windows in the hallway. The nearly-full moon shone brilliantly in the pitch black night, dimming the shimmer of the stars sprinkled around it. Somehow, his hatred of the white orb had diminished slightly.
As Lily's fingers danced over a faded laceration on his neck, his dread and fear of the night two days from now quickly disappeared.