Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine, it's J. K.'s. Now get over the disclaimer and read the story, will you?

I'm not scarred because I am a werewolf. I am scarred because I made it so.

I know, it's sick. I do this against my best judgement. I know that someone will eventually find out, and that I'll be in much more trouble than what I am in now. But it feels so good! It's like I breathe through every scar. Everytime I do this, it's like… It's like a gulp of fresh air! The rush, the exhilaration makes me feel alive. And then, I forget I'm a monster and I stop being dead inside.

I don't remember when it all started. God, it seems so long ago! But I couldn't help it. I wanted to die, but I couldn't pull it off. I just scarred myself a bit, and the stress was gone. My pain was there no more. I was fine.

And, God knows how long afterwards, I was so down, I felt so sick of myself, I tried again. I did so, unsuccessfully. And then, I found out that scarring me was the release I needed.

I hid it well. After all, wearing long robes and being so shy, no one ever actually stopped twice to look at me. At least, not until the day Sirius found out.

I was fighting with my undershirt. Sure, Sirius Black thought that shrinking it was funny, but I still had to put it on. Just 'cause he didn't wear one didn't mean that I would feel comfortable with my shirt glued to me in the absence of this vital piece of clothing. I was thinking about yelling at him when someone said 'Alohamora' and the door flew open.

I turned around and tried to cover myself. What an idiot: I had a mirror behind me!

Sirius' angry look changed to concern. We looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity, saying nothing. My face was hot, so I knew I was blushing furiously. He had blanched.

Slowly, he walked inside the bathroom and shut the door behind himself. I knew what was coming. I was going to have to leave the school, not for being a werewolf, but for being a stupid one. I was going to be sent to St. Mungo's Psychiatric Ward for self-injury. Good grief! Nice going, Remus!

"Sirius – I – I" – I never stammered. This was just getting better, wasn't it?

He walked past me and sat on the toilet, looking at me with wide eyes.

"Remus – I'm sorry – I didn't mean to barge in like that…"

I nodded. Geez, now my mind was on overload, trying to think of something, anything, that could get me out of this. I was thinking about suggesting he could blackmail me into doing his homework AND his laundry (which was a terrible thing to agree to, mind you, as he changed at least five times a day to keep up his 'amazing attractiveness') when he interrupted me.

"That's why you're so introverted, isn't it?"

I nodded, with no idea of what I was agreeing to.

"Is that why you also ask yourself for so much? Studying so hard and all?" – Yet again, I nodded. It seemed like I wouldn't have to do his homework and laundry after all.

"Sirius, I'll do anything you want. Just, please, don't tell on me. Please…" – Yeah, that didn't mean I wouldn't beg.

"I wouldn't. I know what it's like."

Okay, my turn to look dumbfounded.

"This? – You? – What?"

"My parents."

Oh, so he thought I was abused. My parents would never do that to me, but if that could take me out of this mess... So I stuck to the simplest answer.

"Oh."

"Yeah… They don't hit me, though." – His voice went cold. – "They don't want to ruin the carpets. They prefer applying the Cruciatus."

I nodded. That was a very close call. We agreed to keep it between us, and it was never mentioned again.

Or, at least, not until they found out I was a werewolf. Of course, they assumed it had to do with the transformation. Once they decided to become animagi, it was the best thing I could use to stop them. After all, if their attempts didn't work, I would kill them, or worse, I would bite them.

"You're going to be scarred for life! Sirius, James, your looks will be damaged forever!"

They were shallow, so it should work, right?

"What about me?"

"Peter, your looks were imperfect to begin with." – James smirked.

"Someday, you'll get a big check of payback for comments like that…" – Peter fumed.

Sirius laughed it off.

"Even if I'm disfigured, I'll still be beautiful, so don't worry, Remmie…"

"Don't call me that."

"Remmie, Remmie, Remmie, Remmie, Remmie – OW!"

"I told you not to call me that."

"That doesn't mean you get to smack me around… If you know what I mean."

I rolled my eyes at his amusement. I hated that kind of joke and he'd do anything to get on my nerves.

In the end, they became illegal animagi, and started following me around every full moon. To say the least, it was creepy. I guess they came with me because the danger of it all seemed fun to them. If they had only known how that was killing me – It made me fear I was nothing but a beast before their eyes.

And then Sirius played a prank on Severus Snape of all people. And that's when I knew that I was just something they could use for revenge. I wasn't their friend, I was just a monster. They only accepted me if they could use me to their advantage, be that to copy my homework, or to get out of trouble, or to murder someone. I was nothing.

I forgave Sirius, of course, but I couldn't shake the thoughts out of my head.

Now, Peter is somewhere in the kitchen, pestering the house elves for some snacks. Sirius is probably out there, trying to woo some girl to go with him to Hogsmade tomorrow. James, on the other hand, is probably getting yelled at by a very angry Lily Evans for asking her, yet again, to go out with him. I don't know how the first twenty-seven times she said no today don't get through his skull. I mean, is he really that thick?

So I'm left alone in the bathroom, with my trusty stainless steel knife as companion. You can guess what I'll do, right? Well, hush. I don't need them to know that I'm not scarred because I am a werewolf: I'm scarred because I made it so.