Azalea Evans °Marauders Era°

Year 4 Addition

●This was not included in the original work, just something I wanted to add!●

Azalea looked in the mirror, tears streaking down her fast. Her ugly scars reflected back at her, the three long marks a reminder of her past. She winced at she lifted her shirt, the scars running up and down her chest. The tears ran faster as she cried, her eyes wide. How could anyone like her when she was so ugly?

She cried more thinking about the creature that had done this to her. The terror she felt. Her heart raced as she thought about it, her head pounding at the memory. She could feel the pain tearing through her, the fear running through her body. She could remember herself screaming, could remember the torturous sounds that came out of her mouth. She didn't know she could make sounds like that.

It was moments like this that she fell to her visions. She fell to her knees when she felt one rip through her, the agonizing pain warning her of what was to come. She cried hard, shaking her head violently. 'No' she thought, trying to fight it. But they always won. She never had a chance. Not really.

"Lily," she found herself screaming, "Lily!" She watched herself running down a hall, one that looked eerily similar to Sirius'.

"Azalea," she cried out, coming around the corner. Azalea wailed in relief. She slammed into her sister, hugging her tightly.

"That was so dangerous, Lily Potter! What in the world were you thinking?"

"I'm fine, Azalea. You need to worry about the twins. Not me."

"No," Azalea interrupted, "No. Get me out of here. I can't be here. I can't. I can't know this!"

She found herself slamming back into her body, falling forwards unexpectedly. She gasped as she did so, her hands slamming into the ground. She sunk her head to the floor, unable to breath. She tried to calm herself down, tried to relax. It was so hard, though. So hard.

She sat on the floor crying for a long time. She could barely keep up. By the time she was calmed down, she knew she needed to talk to someone. But she couldn't talk to Sirius. Or Lily. She needed to talk to someone who could understand, someone who wouldn't just blow her off and say 'you are beautiful'. She didn't need that. She needed honesty. She needed someone to say 'of course they are looking at your scars'.

If wasn't hard to find Remus. He was alone in a corner of the library, his nose in a book. Azalea didn't care what it was about, or if he had time to talk. She needed him. She sat down quietly, placing her hand on his arm. He slowly dropped the book, concern filling his features.

"Azalea? Are you okay?"

"How do you do it," she whispered, "I know I constantly tell you that you aren't a monster. That you are my friend. That you can't control what you do, but...I can't believe myself. I can't believe my own words. Remus, sometimes, I just...I hate myself. I'm so ugly. So broken. I don't understand what Sirius sees in me..."

"Oh, that. Well...I have to be extremely honest, Azalea. I hate myself, too. Constantly. I hate my scars. I hate my actions. So, I try to compensate. I try to be a good person, you know? I do what I can to make everyone happy, to make things right. But in the back of my head I think they could be my victims. I don't know what awful things I might do. I've killed people before, Azalea. I hate to admit that, but I have. And I probably wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you four. As I've gotten older, its gotten worse. Harder to deal with. You guys help me so much with your encouragement and help. But I still hate myself, too. It's taken years to be able to understand myself and why I feel this way. And I'm sure I have a long way to go. It takes time, Azalea."

"I don't have time," she cried, slamming her hands on her table, "Everything is against me, Remus. I see myself happy, having a partner, a family. And it's all coming so soon. So how do I do it? How does it work? Obviously, within five years, I've gotten past this. But you've been like this for so long and you still aren't past it. How will I ever?"

"You don't. Azalea, you still get to have those happy things. You still get to have a good life. But it doesn't take away what you are. What you become. What you do. It will never go away."

"I want it to. So badly, Remus. Look at me! I'm hideous! And every time I turn, I seem to get a new one! I hate it, Remus! I hate it!"

"I know," he whispered, "But you aren't ugly, Azalea. Yes, you have scars. They aren't always a bad thing. I try to think of them like stories. I can remember how I got each one. I try to blow if off as me being brave to others, but I know what they really mean. And I hold onto that. They are battle scars, nothing to be ashamed of. I tell myself that everyday. It doesn't always work. But I try."

"I look at them and remember that night. I remember my screams, the pain, the terror. Remus, I don't even know what sounds came out of me. It was fear like I had never felt before. Pain like I had never felt. Similar to a crucio curse. I just...I don't know if I can look at them like that." She cried at the end, letting her hair cover her face. She was embarrassed about this, but she knew Remus understood.

"I killed a cat," she admitted finally, "Someone's pet. I feel terrible. I can't imagine the guilt you feel..."

"It's horrendous," he agreed, "But you need to try and separate yourself from the actions. It isn't you. Try to accept that."

"You need to listen to your own advice," she chuckled darkly.

"I know." They sat in brief silence, collecting thoughts.

"Thank you," she breathed. She wiped her eyes and stood up, quickly leaving. She stood tall, holding her head up. She was done crying for now. She had a best friend to find.