It used to be that Remus hated himself; afterall he had many of he considered good reasons to do so. He had hated the way he looked: pale and luminescent, covered in scars that would never heal. He had hated the way his clothes slipped from his to y’all frame, and the way he could never gain any muscle.
He had hated what he was, too. He had hated that he turned into a wolf every full moon, hated that he was a dark creature. He hated that he felt love that no man should, that he longed for others like him, other men.
Remus Lupin used to hate himself.
But he also used to be a scared kid, frightened by the potential of the future. He used to fear ostracism, being forced into becomes an outcast simply for how he was born, as well as what was done to him.
He had hated the world as well.
He had hated the wizarding society he lived in; the way people like him were blamed for what others had done. He hades the prejudice that reflected back onto him everyday. He wanted to be free of it all
Remus despised the law that held him back, that requires his kind to register upon reaching adulthood. He hated the knowledge that one day he would be forced into the spotlight and prospects that should rightfully be his would be closed simply because he had once been bitten by a beast.
There were a lot of things Remus hated, that disappointed him, but there was something that brought him joy as well.
Family, Remus would learn, is something chosen, something that elicit a kind of feral joy. The first boy to teach him this is Peter Pettigrew. He met Peter on the train that first year, and the boy had ignored the obvious questions about his scars and hand-me-down robes in order to ask him of he wanted a chocolate frog.
Remus had never had a friend before.
The others took more time, the desire to pull off pranks wasn’t one inherent within Remus at the time, or if it was it was buried deep, and he was to young and foolish to consider looking deeper.
But then he found James, sweet James Potter standing guard outside of their dorm barring anyone entrance and refusing to explain why. He did not yet understand of course, that came later, cam with pushing past James and seeing Sirius’s tear stained face.
Loyalty, Remus had thought, even to a prat, was a commendable trait.
Sirius has been the last for Remus to find joy in. He had merely tolerated the boy at first, for the sake of James and Peter, but he found his constant desire to stir things up between the houses to be a bit much at times.
Then his first solo prank had gone wrong, McGonagall had narrowed it down to the four of them, and Sirius had winked and taken the blame.