Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "She's my wife Remus! She's not your Lilly Evans, she's my Lilly Potter!" Takes place right after the death of James and Lilly
A/N: Ok, first Remus/Lilly fic, clearly angst, very depressing, and I don't think I quite captured Remus, but seeing as he's young I'm ok with the dramatic and morbid ness of him in it.
The Wound of a Good Man
I wear black, dark and dusty and old because I can't afford new. I look at my reflection in the mirror but see only the wound. I blame myself, cleaning my wound with salt water so it will still feel new. Burning, aching, I want to scream, I want to cry.
My eyes are black in my reflection and it reminds me of the monster that resides inside of me. Sometimes I think that the human part of me is the real evil. I run my fingers down the scars that run over my body like a trail to my past and I hate myself.
I see you sitting there in my past, your hair reminds me of blood and it's obscenely fitting. And I wish you would come back. I wish you were here, but I know your gone, gone forever, just like your backstabbing best friend, but for all the sinning Sirius's done, it was I who really sinned wasn't it? It was I who proved to be the real monster.
Sirius sits in Azkaban and the rest of us are dead, me included although you all get to go on to heaven or wherever and I get to stay here. In hell.
Everyone watches me waste myself, they all watch me forget to take me Wolfsbane, they all watch me grow weaker and weaker, waiting for my own body to kill me. If only they knew what it's like, but they don't. They cheer as I bleed. I deserve taunting don't I?
I trick myself into thinking I'm ok. It's not my fault that I loved her. I still hear his voice echoing in my head though.
"She's my wife Remus! She's not your Lilly Evans, she's my Lilly Potter!" and your eyes were black with fury but you didn't understand. You didn't know that I'd loved her since the beginning; you didn't understand that she was the only one, ever, to make me, for once, not hate myself.
And now you're gone, and I wish, just wish that I could have said I was sorry, that I could have let her go. That I could have been happy for you, you, my best friend.
They've taken my happiness, my pride, whispering "monster" as I pass watching me through narrowed eyes. And I want to believe in luck and I want to have hope, but you've left me and that's what you were to me, my luck, my hope. You with your green eyes, your hair tracing scars along my body as you talked to me in hushed tones:
"How could you say that about yourself? How could you believe that you're ugly? That you're obscene? A monster?" I can still feel as your hands found a place one on each shoulder, "Remus, can't you see I love you?"
"Lilly, don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't do that, ok? I know how imperfect I am, I'm not asking for pity-"
"And I'm not pitying you... Perfect? Remus is that what you really want to be? Is that what you think other people want from you? Remus perfect is a lie, no one likes perfect. Imperfections are beautiful. Your imperfections make you the person that I love, that we all love. You are a good man."
I wanted to kiss you, I wanted so badly to, but I never did, not once, I hugged you, I held you against me and you let me, nurturing me like I was a lost puppy instead of a vicious wolf. But the puppy's lost it's way and I fear I'll never get back to that path, the one that you carved out for me.
I fan the flames coaxing them to grow, wanting them to swallow me, prodding the old coals and adding on all my new transgressions. If that ugly part of me dies, will I be forgiven? If that ugly part of me dies, can I forgive myself? Flames lick my skin and heat pulsates through my body and I remember those last words:
"You are a good man." And I cling to the hope that it's true, that somewhere there is a part of me that's good. And that somewhere someone will see it, and I'll no longer be alone, be it friend, love, or mentor, But as I stare down at the two coffins side by side, sealed and waiting to enter the damp earth, I can hear whispers:
"That's the monster, werewolf."
"Hear he was having an affair with Lilly."
"He's evil, should be in Azkaban too if you ask me."
And the future stands out before me bleak, and I wash my wounds with salt letting the pain sear through me, a remembrance of my offenses, a remembrance of my imperfections. And maybe if it hurts enough, maybe if the fires burn and the salt stings, maybe I can kill that part of me, the monster.
Maybe I can be a good man, if not for me, for them.
Aww, I love Lupin, if you liked this or thought it was dumb, please leave me a message either way, it'll only take a second! And I love to hear the opinions of others.