Summary: He can tell you what orphans look like. And murderers. And soldiers. And mothers. But he won't. / the deaths of thirteen order members, and a study in scars.

Notes: Well. The First War, I think, is the most interesting time period in Harry Potter history. The Order, especially. I crafted this after my friend and I discussed the different type of scars a person can have - as it turns out, there are many.

The Roman numerals at the start of each section mark when the character died - from the first death, to the thirteenth. I sincerely hope you enjoy!

"Hearts live by being wounded," - Oscar Wilde.

(Everyone has scars. You just have to look.)

xii.

Sirius Black's scars are considered marks of battle; such as the one winding round his wrist from the only time he tried Muggle cooking. The one clover-shaped scar on his left foot from a curious incident with the Giant Squid during their fifth year. The one running down his hip like water from yet another Order mission.

Claw marks escaping down his arms and chest from nights they don't talk about.

But most of his marks aren't from any battle worth mentioning. Those marks speak of whips and belts and punishments; he may be all bravado and defiance, but he is not proud of those. They only tell him how many people should've loved him, and how many people didn't.

(He has not received his biggest blow yet, the blow that will both kill him and send him to Azkaban and it cannot come too early, old friend.)

Remus has kissed every single scar.

iv.

Dorcas Meadowes' scar is nothing spectacular.

It's very small, and it hides underneath her collar. It crawls over her breast, the exact place where she jokes her heart should be. She does have a heart, of course. And for that she's lucky. Too lucky. That spell should have killed her but, as always -

(When she dies, at the precious hands of Lord Voldemort, all they find conclusively is her hand. She still has the engagement ring on her finger.)

Lucky.

That's what she calls it. Benjy calls it love instead.

ix.

Frank Longbottom has seventeen scars in total.

They vary, of course - there are ridiculous ones, like the heart-shaped one on his left buttocks when he had an unfortunate incident with a rogue valentine in his seventh year, and the ones on his knees from all the times he fell over as a child.

There are brave ones, ones from spells and hexes and curses borne from battle, from fighting on the losing side. Sometimes, at least.

And then there are more serious ones. Like the rope marks around his neck. Like the slashes that scream from his wrists.

Alice wraps her fingers around the marks and never asks.

vii.

Marlene McKinnon is a patchwork of scars and mauled beauty. She loves it.

Every scar tells a story - from when she fell out of her first tree trying to beat her brother to the top, from when she punched Severus Snape on the nose and he responded in kind, from when she fought alongside her friends when it was a life for a life and a scar for a scar.

She has debts, written on her body like signatures.

They aren't ugly scars; not raised, but pale and smooth, moulding to her skin like silk. They are just another way to show that she is her.

(There are other scars - scars from when an ex-boyfriend pushed too hard or scars from when her daddy could still get away with touching her. They are not so gorgeous.)

But she is still beautiful, to the day she dies.

x.

If you count the ones not on his body, James Potter has three scars.

His first is a nasty one that winds from his chest down to the small of his back, and it is the only time he has envied Remus. Because Remus knows scars, knows scars as well as Sirius knows magic and James knows Quidditch.

This wound is puckered and ugly and a constant reminder of the time he almost didn't make it.

Lily kisses around it softly. He knows she's just trying to help.

His second and third are two unmarked graves in Godric's Hollow that do not house bodies, never have done. They were never found, after all. The graves say "the heart is the home of the brave." No more. James can't bear to carve his parents' names in stone. (And his son will hate him for that.)

Some wounds will never heal; only scar.

v - vi.

Fabian and Gideon Prewett do not have any scars.

They never will have.

Instead, they leave scars on all those they leave behind; imprinted, tattooed onto their souls as if the brothers planned it. No one forgets how they fought five Death Eaters, alone, while calling for help, over and over and over and over and over-

Nobody came. They weren't priority. But no one forgets that their fatal wounds were identical, both pairs of eyes laughing with the thrill of the fight and the promise of dying young. Nobody forgets.

That is the scar they leave.

viii.

Alice Longbottom has scars.

They litter her body carelessly, haphazardly, as though out of place. She does not look like an Auror, never has done; she wears low-cut tops to show of the bead of wounds she wears like pearls. Alice has long since given up caring.

Frank doesn't understand, because his scars are vibrant and vivid and whisper stories in the middle of the night.

Hers are not battle wounds, but mistakes and experiences and all the days she's lived fighting for what she believes is right. She will not be ashamed of her scars.

And maybe she wears backless dresses to shock, or maybe just to feel better about her own personal lattice work, about the tattoos she didn't choose. It is her artwork, her body. A masterpiece to be displayed as though it were the Mona Lisa.

Her scars are not pretty, but they are captivating, and Alice will never want anything else.

iii.

Benjy Fenwick has precisely one scar.

It is a nothing-scar, from a day he can't remember. It is on the top of the shoulder, and knowing himself, he probably fell off a step or tripped over his own feet. That's what Dorcas tells him, anyway. Some days he doesn't believe her.

But those days are rare, and he is glad he only has one scar.

There are scars such as how many people he has killed; scars like the image of a Death Eater mauled and half-alive imprinted onto his brain. He almost killed Dorcas. So Benjy killed him.

Some scars he doesn't see, but they still keep him up at night, thinking about the time he screamed, "CRUCIO!" so loudly his bones quivered.

When they find him - the Order, of course, always the precious order - he is not half-alive. He looks as if he were never alive, as if he had always been a walking corpse with skin so torn you can count every single one of his broken ribs.

You can still see the scar.

i.

Caradoc Dearborn has too many scars.

His scars, unlike others, come from adventure and mischief and coming too close to werewolves at the full moon.

The first thing anyone notices about Caradoc is the long, elongated scar across his face, making his nose crooked and his mouth slightly tilted in one corner as if held up by string. He also has two scars stretching upwards from his lips, so he is almost always smiling.

Some of the Order members call him the Joker, and not just for his pranks. He doesn't mind. Mary smiles at him as though he's special.

(His disappearing act is the best. Until-)

Therefore, the second thing anyone notices is how brave he is, how noble, how strong - but his scars don't mean he's a Gryffindor. Don't get him wrong, he can tackle a dragon if he sees the chance, but he is no Gryffindor.

Hufflepuffs can be brave too.

xi.

Lily Evans - no, Potter - has numerous scars.

Oh, you can't see them of course. She'd never allow you that. But they are there; one for every freak, one for every Mudblood. She is not ashamed of her scars, just as she is not ashamed of her Muggle parents and red hair and flightiness, as Remus calls it.

But James, being James, doesn't understand scars that aren't there. His are physical, a personal reminder on his body or two empty gravestones in a grave yard.

He can kick and punch and lash out and cry, but Lily can't. These scars are too deep, and they've broken her, in a way. She doesn't feel like she used to.

What she doesn't understand is that everyone has a past - arrogant and orphan, Black and cruel, rodent and useless, werewolf and quiet - and not everyone can admit that. All hurt in different ways. This world is not unblemished. It is not perfect.

But Lily, dearest Lily, is young and flighty and selfish, so of course, her wounds are the only ones worth healing. But she will never tell you that.

ii.

Mary Macdonald only has one scar, twisting round her throat.

It is enough.

xiii.

Remus Lupin can tell you a lot about scars.

He can tell you about scars inflicted by a werewolf, which will never really heal. He can tell you about scars from war, and scars from falling out of trees, and scars from within. He can tell you about all the ways you can ruin a man for life without ever laying a finger on him.

But he won't.

He won't because this world knows enough about scars; it knows enough about loss and pain and memories. It knows about death.

The Order was young. Young, fresh out of Hogwarts and fresh into war and clinging onto what little lives they had left. They were oblivious and childish and reckless, and they were far from indestructible. They were in over their head and selfish. And they all died in the end, every last one of them -

They were young. People seem to forget that.

So, yes, Remus can tell you what scars look like when they used to be fatal, once upon a time, and he can tell you the exact haunted look a man has the first night he kills someone. They are obvious. He can tell you what a scar looks like on a man who died twelve years ago but whose heart is still beating.

Some scars look like loneliness. Those are the trickiest, because those scars grow over time, black tendrils curling over ribcages and poisoning slowly. These scars will kill you.

He can tell you what orphans look like. And murderers. And soldiers. And mothers.

But he won't. The world has enough scars.