Merlin, what if they hate me. What if they judge me. What if their eyes go all cold, what if they don't call me Reem anymore. What if they think of me as some kind of monster. What if they can't separate the boy from the beast.
I have to tell them sometime. I have to. They're starting to notice the scars, and they're starting to want the stories that come with them. But I don't HAVE stories. I don't remember giving them to myself. Oh Merlin, what if they don't want to be my friends anymore.
James, he's so perfect. He's got the best parents, loads of money; he can get good grades without even thinking about it. He's an amazing chaser; he's only a third year, Merlin's Beard. The boy's never struggled with anything in his life. He's never had anyone he's needed to accept. What if he doesn't know how to accept.
Sirius, his mother is a bitch, but what if he doesn't get it either. He comes from privilege, and he knows I'm poor, but how will he deal with my…condition? Even if he doesn't agree with his family's opinions, even if he swears he'll fight in this war when he gets out of school, what if those are just words? What if he can't back it up?
Peter, little Peter, he's so small and timid. There's no way he'd be able to deal with one of his best friends being the monstrosity I am. He won't. He can't. If I told him, he'd just stammer and stutter and scamper away to find James and hide behind him. He'd want protection from me. He'd think I'm dangerous.
I'm harmless. I'm not Greyback, the horror that turned me. I was seven years old, and he decided I would make a good snack. I wish he had killed me. Merlin, I wish he had killed me. And I know that's a horrible thing to say and I know my mother would've died of a broken heart and I know my father would've never forgiven himself, but being this thing is a fate worse than death. Waking up with new cuts every month, not being in control of your own body, your own mind, and just waking up and having to deal with the consequences, knowing you'll never be married, because no one could love a part time beast and even if they did I would never hurt them that badly. Knowing that even if your best friends tell you everything, knowing that even if you're their confidante and you know their deepest darkest secrets, they can never know yours. Because who could love someone that much?
What if they love me that much?
That would mean the world. It would mean having true friends. It would mean having lifelong friends. It would mean that literally no matter what these people would be there for me. And I would love to keep that possibility alive. Because if I don't tell them, I can always imagine that they would have accepted me. I can keep the small amount of faith in people I still have. But if I tell them and they don't accept me, it shatters it.
I should tell them. Morally, it's the right thing to do. Morally, I'm obligated. They're my best friends. Jamesie, Sirius, even Peter. They're the best friends I've ever had. They don't think of me as delicate or different. They just see me as Remus, and they love Remus. But will they love the wolf?
Merlin, I hope so. I'll tell them. I'll tell them. It's the only way.
My voice shakes as I call them over, and I begin to sweat. They can tell something is wrong, something is gravely wrong. Has my "sick mother" taken a turn for the worse? I can almost hear them think. Have they gotten caught again? Is there an essay due tomorrow they forgot about? Such silly little cares, such small worries. What have I gotten myself into? I have to lie.
Lying is wrong. But so is being me.
I spit it out as fast as I can, as quietly as I can. "GuysI'mawerewolf" I whisper. Sirius is quizzical. "Say again, mate? I didn't catch that…" But James did. James' eyes grow wider, the gears start turning in his head. His fight or flight must've kicked in by now, Merlin; I knew this was a bad idea. "I'm. A. Werewolf." I annunciate a little clearer, then Sirius's eyes grow wider too. Peter whimpers quietly. The pause can't be thirty seconds. They say nothing, nothing, nothing still. They must have something to say!
"Really?" James breaks the silence. "Really." I reply. I'm barely breathing. They still haven't chosen. Merlin, this was a bad idea.
"Merlin, Reem, why didn't you tell us?" Sirius adds. The shock seems to have worn off, his pupils are down to their normal size and his breathing seems to be normal.
"How can we help?" James adds. He's calmer now, too.
"Can we help?" Peter squeaks. He bites his lips when the words leave them, unsure if he should've spoken. Gently, James pulls me into a hug. Sirius joins, then, tentatively, Peter. I can't help it, I start to cry.
"What're you crying for, mate?" Sirius asks, laughing a little.
"You…you guys don't hate me." I sputter out.
"So you've got a furry little problem. You thought we'd care?" James smiles reassuringly. Peter makes some small sounds of encouragement.
They love me.