Lover // Remus Lupin

Chapter VIII

What makes a monster? Is it appearance? Morals? Abilities or afflictions? Look at the most infamous monsters within history or, more specifically, literature. Frankenstein is one of the most notorious monsters ever to exist, and people are fearful of him, understandably. But the entire story of Frankenstein was that not of his own creation. His creator, the Doctor, made the monster that is Frankenstein that way. He was not given a choice to be what he was.

What if you had your entire life thrust upon you unwillingly? After all, you cannot always control what events occur and lead up to the creation of a monster. Life is something that happens whether or not you influence it.

But this goes back to the original question, what is a monster? It's the thing under your bed waiting for the moment you stick your foot out from the covers. It's the shadows that dance around you while walking up from the basement. It's the howling you hear in the distance that gets carried through the singing wind. It's the teacher when you're a child that hits you on the hand with a ruler. A monster is not just one thing; it's a variety of different people, beings, entities that follow different storylines.

There is no cookie-cutter definition or explanation for what a monster is. One person's monster is another person's hero and vice versa. One person may think all dogs are monsters, while someone else believes them to be beautiful gifts of the earth. The point is, there is no concrete explanation for what a monster is. It is entirely up to interpretation and one person's own perspective and life.

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The sun was too bright. The shining ball felt like a knife to his pupils as Remus peeled his swollen eyes open. The familiar bed of the medical wing brought an uncomfortable sense of ease to the brunette. His limbs burned and ached as the muscles healed from ripping themselves apart and reforming into a different being. The stale scent of the stone around him was something he wished wasn't as familiar as it was, especially when his nerves subdued because of them. The newly formed bruises and wounds across his being were painful and aching.

He did not doubt in his mind that the newly formed marks were from his closest friends, keeping him from running off and harming more than just those aware of his affliction. He wondered if Cassie managed to get in his way or if she was as bright as she seemed and hid far from his scent. Remus didn't know what he would do if he ever caught a whiff of her nearby. Perhaps he managed to get his paws on Barty, leaving him disfigured and unrecognizable.

Remus chided his anger, shaking off the lingering violent urges that plagued his mind.

"Morning," a sweet voice cooed as she walked towards his bed, a platter with a massive plate of eggs, toast and sausage. A goblet of orange juice sat comfortably on the platter as Cassie took a seat next to him on his bed, "How do you feel?"

"Horrid," Remus groaned, wincing at the scratching from his throat, "Why're you here?"

Cassie pursed her lips and tucked a stray hair behind her ear, avoiding eye contact with the boy, "The boys aren't in a state to be mobile right now," she explained, lifting her eyes across the way, "As you can see."

Remus turned his attention from the massive plate of food in front of him to the two sleeping males behind the youngest Black sister. Both appeared bruised and injured, large scrapes across both of their exposed chests. Remus felt horrid for the pain he caused the two but couldn't help but wonder if perhaps Cassie was here for Sirius instead of him. Selfish, yes, but a logical question if you ask delirious Remus Lupin.

"I found them last night with McGonagall," Cassie hummed, fiddling with the end of her light brown, floral, chevron skirt, "Stayed with Sirius through the night."