Disclaimer: I don't own any Harry Potter characters. They belong to the genius J.K. Rowling. This entire story was inspired by Coldplay's "Green Eyes." But since I'm no longer allowed to post lyrics, this is a repost of what I have already written. Blah, is wasting my time with trivial things. Now that I've given credit where credit is due, I hope you've lost all incentive to sue me and accuse me of story-theft. If not, well, then you aren't too bright, are you?

AN: This is a rewrite, edited so that my new baby-story won't get deleted. So here it is, once again. Looking back, it is quite short. More of an introduction of sorts, rather than an actual chapter. Sorry about that. (blush) Either way, I truly hope you enjoy it!


Green Eyes

By: Shrk-bait


An Introduction of Sorts


Things are more than they appear to be.

We are always told to look underneath the surface of a person, past the reputations, the superficialities, the masks. At least, that's what we're told.

The inescapable (and terribly disappointing) truth is: we don't.

No one really cares about the blemishes of a face, the etchings of a forehead, the creases at the corner of an eye. No one bothers to examine the inherent beauty of every single flaw.

The beauty of life – of raw, unbridled human activity – is concealed behind a flashy masquerade, a flamboyant gathering of obscured figures in an endless charade.

Who in this world lives mask-free? Show me a man who claims he has nothing to hide and I'll show you a liar. Masks are essential to survival. They are essential to life.

So much so – in fact – that a mask is all there is.

And what a pity it is.


Hogwarts always saw my friends and me as the infamous Marauders – mischievous, dashing, terribly clever – who they simply expected to live lives defined by perfection and flawlessness.

And that was all they saw. No one bothered to see the complications entwined in our existences, the complexities that tore us apart inside.

And ironically bound us together.

No matter what shield of feigned carelessness we placed around ourselves, it would never heal the darkness we'd all experienced. It was always dark and would forever remain that way.

Perhaps somewhere deep down, we were all waiting for a light. Waiting, longingly for eyes to see past the free spiritedness we buried ourselves in.

But no one managed to see through our barriers. Their eyes deceived them. All they saw were the devilishly handsome grins, the twinkle in our eyes, not the darkness festering beneath them.

We were regarded as above them, as the height of cool, as ideally picturesque people living out the ideal life – that was how it had always been.

But we were far from picturesque and our lives were as far from fairy tale as imaginable.

We struggled to fit the portrait of idealism. Hogwarts – the entire wizarding world, really – knew nothing of the weaknesses that clawed away at our lives. We were witty, fun-loving, healthy young boys who would undoubtedly lead the way to a better tomorrow.

But our days, our tomorrows, were weighing heavier. Each moment, the seams threatened to unravel; our mask threatened to crack and expose the darkness of our lives to the world. But we found ways to manage.

Laugh it off. It was just a joke. It always is, isn't it? Don't mind us, we're brilliant but ridiculous. Marauders never take anything seriously. Just laugh it off.

No one saw past the laughs – our parents, our professors, our classmates. Any problems? Of course we could deal with them. After all, we were Marauders.

Marauders. If only people would have realized that the Marauders were just a quartet of silly boys, jaded early on in life. We were all an act, a rowdy group of harlequins, the boldness of our dizzying appearances and irrational feats heavily contrasting the arduous strain of our numerous uncertainties.

But no one would realize that. Since the day we'd met, it was only upon each other that we could depend. No one could possibly understand the circumstances we were faced with.

Truthfully, no one really wanted to.

All anyone ever wanted was the thrill of our company, not the heavy weight of our emotional hurdles. That way suited us fine. Burdens were not, to us, something to share.

But share we did – reluctantly, of course – with the one person whose eyes were truly open.

Green eyes that went by the sobriquet Lily Evans.



AN:
I'm looking forward to posting the next chapter! Scary thought, but AP exams are coming closer and closer. So once they're over, I'll be in a writer's haven. Then I can devote a lot more time to writing, which I simply cannot wait for. So please be kind and review!