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Lunaticus Book One: Half Moon	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Remus Views: 18455 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
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A/N: I was having trouble finding Harrimus fics that met my persnickety fanfiction criteriae, and I basically just went “screw it, I'll write my own” and this happened. As far as AU goes, Remus&Tonks didn't happen, so no Teddy, and among the dead he's the only one I revived. Age wise this is set 3 years after the war, so Harry is 21(assuming I know how to math).

Because it's not really covered in the plot, for the first year following the war Harry and Ginny did not date, and they only started going out seriously a year later, in case anyone gets confused by the timeline of '3 years after the war, but Ginny&Harry have only dated for 2', so there you go.

Werewolf lore is partially canon to the HP 'verse, but I also threw in some elements that were entirely made up, inspired by Buffy, Supernatural, as well as traditional werewolf lore. For now I'll be updating once a week, as I only have part of the final draft of this story completed. I'll be updating more frequently once I have more finished. Since this is my first fic for this ship, comments and concrit would be greatly appreciated.

Half Moon – Part One of the Lunaticus series

“We humans fear the beast within the wolf because we do not understand the beast within ourselves.”
-Gerald Hausman

Chapter 1 – Claim

The sleepy silence of Grimmauld Place was no longer unsettling and foreboding, but tranquil and comforting. The dark and dank of the house was no more, and in its place stood a house that teetered close to derelict on the outside, but the inside was warm and welcoming, and no longer a haven for Purebloods and Death Eaters.

The shrieking portrait of Sirius's late mother was gone, as was the family tree tapestry, the house elf heads, and every dark artifact the house still held. Warm tones replaced the black on black, and its décor was strongly reminiscent of The Burrow. It was a house of warmth, family, and most importantly, of peace.

In the master bedroom, the peaceful sleep of the couple that occupied it was broken rather suddenly by the ancient house elf bursting into their room with a loud bang. The door burst open loudly, and the brass knob bounced off the wall from the force of his entry, freshly laundered robes and muggle clothing overflowing in his thin arms.

“Up, up, up, Master Harry!” Kreacher cried, dropping the mound at the end of the bed and clicking his fingers once to put everything away in one swift motion, “Kreacher has breakfast ready for yourself and Mistress Ginny when you is ready to receive it!” The elf bustled out of the room just as quickly as he had come, never mind that Harry hadn't even sat up yet. With a groan, he pulled himself up and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand. Next to him Ginny stirred, pawing absently at the ground for her clothes, the duvet just barely clinging to her naked form.

“How many times have I told him to just call me Ginny?” she grumbled, tugging on a tight Holyhead Harpies T-shirt and sinfully short shorts. Harry's eyes fell at once to her barely-concealed bottom and quirked an eyebrow, and she smirked knowingly. Harry swore she wore those clothes just to make him stare. Not that he minded, but it did make his job as a Trainee Auror rather difficult when his thoughts would routinely flit back to his girlfriend in varying states of undress. To her question, he snickered and donned a smirk of his own.

“At least a hundred,” he slipped out of the bed and wandered over to the wardrobe, unconcerned of his naked form, while Ginny's eyes followed his every move. “I'm sure you'll have to tell him at least hundred more times before he gets it.” Ginny crossed her arms, but looked more amused than annoyed by the comment.

“Or you could just order him to call me just Ginny.”

“I could,” Harry laughed, tugging on a T-shirt as he went, “but it's much more fun to watch him get on your nerves.”

“You're a terrible human being, Harry Potter.”

Downstairs following a quick shower, Kreacher piled his and Ginny's plates high with more food than they could reasonably consume in three sittings. At times like these, the elf reminded Harry of a tiny, cantankerous version of Mrs Weasley. After serving them, he handed Harry a copy of the Daily Prophet. “Thanks Kreacher,” he smiled slightly as the elf bowed and disappeared with a crack. Ginny wandered into the dining room not long after, her hair still damp from her morning shower.

His eyes flitted up and down her form at once. How could he not look? They'd been dating exclusively for nearly two years, and her budding Quidditch career had made her fill out in all sorts of delightful ways. It also helped that she would pick clothing that showed her body off much more than her mother approved of, giving Harry plenty of opportunity to ogle. She caught him looking and smirked devilishly, sitting down at his side and starting on her breakfast while he unfolded the paper.

“D'you have Quidditch practice today?” Harry asked, breaking the near silence, save for the soft clink of their cutlery and the rustle of the newspaper.

“Yeah, but I should finish early. It's one of the last ones before the season starts. Why?”

“Ron and Hermione wanted to go out tonight after work. I dunno if it's a dinner or a pub crawl, Ron wasn't specific. Wanna come along?”

“Sure, I should be done in plenty of time. Not sure about you though, all those extra calls.” Harry groaned at the comment, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He refocused his attention on her and pushed the paper aside.

“Don't jinx it, Ginny. I was hoping by now people would've learned to be a little more accepting of other—people, but obviously I'm too much of an optimist.” He stabbed sullenly at a fried egg, the yolk bursting and bleeding yellow all over his toast.

“People have always been like that with werewolves, Harry,” she said gently, resting a hand on his arm and squeezing it once before returning to her food. “It'll take time, but they'll get there. In the meantime, the werewolf population has Superhero Potter on their side to protect them from the mad fringe groups,” she grinned, and Harry snorted.

“Please never call me that again. I'm not even a proper Auror yet.” He sopped up the yellowed toast and stuffed it in his mouth, chasing it down with some pumpkin juice. “And I'm sure the werewolves wouldn't be thrilled if they heard you phrase it like that. It's not like they're helpless.”

“No,” Ginny nodded in agreement, “but there's only so much they can do, you know. And your openness about your friendship with werewolves definitely helps you seem more genuine than some of the other more qualified Aurors.” Ginny's voice sneered at the word. Harry couldn't blame her, as there had been more than a few Aurors who had pointedly ignored complaints of harassment or outright violence due to their own prejudices. Because of that, he and Ron had followed up on most of the complaints made to their office by the werewolf community over the past several weeks.

He grimaced a little at her mention of werewolf friendships—he hadn't seen Remus Lupin since the war, even following all the new positive legislation. Harry had tried sending him a few letters, but it was as though the man had dropped off the face of the earth. Harry was fairly certain his letters had reached him, but he had never received a reply.

Following the reformation of the Ministry, pro-werewolf legislation had been one of Kingsley's top priorities. Given that so many people—many of them children—had been turned during Voldemort's reign of terror, it only made sense for them to have more protection and liberties, and of course marginalizing an entire species for the actions of a few was just wrong.

Harry was thrilled with the changes, though not everyone was as accepting as he and his friends were. More than a few anti-werewolf groups had surfaced, and werewolf murders had skyrocketed. Harry did his best, but it was like trying to fix a broken dam with spellotape. Many werewolf packs had spoken out in favour of his actions, but some others still were reluctant to trust any wizard, even Harry Potter. Harry didn't care, his saving people thing was finally being put to good use, and he would put himself between the werewolves and every other wizard on the planet if he had to.

“We'll see. I'm hoping it won't be too crazy today.” He spoke thickly around a mouthful of egg, while she pointedly ate much more politely than she normally would have done. Harry ignored the hint.

“So planning on nearly getting killed only three times today instead of five?” She grinned, while he snorted and rolled his eyes.

“You're hilarious.”

~*~

Despite being roused at an ungodly hour by Kreacher, Harry still barely managed to get in on time. He skidded to a halt just outside his office and strode in, straightening his blue-grey robes as he went. His supervisor, Auror Caldwell, looked up as he entered and nodded once as he took a seat across from her.

“Potter, morning.” She pushed a terrifying stack of folders towards him. “Take these, start filling out the missing information on these cases, and make note of any mistakes in the original filing.” She hardly looked up as she spoke, her eyes focused on the task before her. Harry bit back a groan.

“No field work today?” Harry asked hopefully as he lifted the stack and carried it to his own desk.

“Not that I'm aware of. Get started on those, if you finish early I'll let you off for the remainder of the day—with pay.” Smirking slightly at the incentive, he plopped down and got to work.

It was dull work that reminded Harry vividly of more than a few detentions he'd endured while at Hogwarts. After a while, the reports all began to look the same, and he could no longer pick one out of the din. Fixing spelling mistakes, making notes where there had been a procedural error, sorting out the active cases from the cold cases in the jumbled mess. At noon, Auror Caldwell shoved a strong coffee into his hands and Harry mumbled his thanks. The drink perked him up enough to continue with his work and keep him from falling asleep, but unfortunately made it no more exciting.

The day dragged by, much more than it had in weeks. Harry had grown rather used to running all over, chasing down dark wizards and breaking curses that would've made Bill Weasley proud. Desk duty was painfully boring, and even after calling Kreacher with half a dozen bacon sandwiches, he still felt as though his brain had been replaced with cotton. It took a great deal of effort to act like something resembling an adult and not cheer when the end of the workday arrived.

Harry slouched to the lift, and jabbed the button for the Atrium. He shook his head a few times to clear it, and by the time he'd reached the crowded floor he felt more or less awake again. He ignored the looks he got as he walked, now more than just because he was Harry-Savior-Of-The-Wizarding-World-Potter. He had made no secret about his political leanings regarding Kingsley's recent werewolf legislation, and it had made him no short list of enemies. Harry's hand rested casually on the handle of his wand as he walked, his eyes flitting over the crowd in case he suddenly needed to defend himself. Though these were technically times of peace, he'd rather be paranoid than dead. Constant vigilance, as Mad-Eye always said. Harry stopped by the recently rebuilt fountain and leaned against the leg of the stone wizard, the spot where he had agreed to meet Ron and Hermione.

He gazed over the crowd of witches and wizards making their way to the Floo and Apparition Spots, this time looking for a lollygagging ginger or frizzy brown hair. Instead what he spotted was someone he hadn't expected to. “Remus!” He called, the older man had been walking past him without so much as an upward glance, and stopped short at the call of his name. Harry hurried over, and he did not fail to notice the way the man's entire body relaxed when he saw who it was.

“Harry,” he smiled, the placid tone of voice and calm smile the same as it had always been. He reached out and clasped Harry's hand in his briefly, before releasing it. “It's been a long time, how are you?”

“I'm fine, been busy.” He cocked a brow, and Remus nodded his head once, catching the hint.

“Yes, I've seen your name in the Prophet fairly often over the last six months. It's nice to see them reporting facts, for a change.”

“More like miraculous,” Remus laughed. Harry smiled and shrugged, turning to look over the crowd again as he spoke. “I'm doing what I can, I don't want to interfere in the politics, I just want to keep people safe.” He smiled weakly, and Remus nodded, acknowledging the sentiment. It was tricky territory, and Harry had always been cautious of overstepping his bounds when it came to the werewolf community. “Er, I tried to send you some letters after—after everything, but you never replied.” Though Harry had aimed for a relaxed tone, a guilty look still crossed Remus's features.

“I've been underground, so to speak. Don't take it personally—I haven't been in contact with anyone; but I've been well. It's been peaceful, in its own way.” Remus's neutral tone did not betray whether or not he felt guilty about being so cut off from the world. Harry understood, meaning Remus, like so many others of his kind, had gone into hiding. Harry couldn't blame him, though Harry still hated that he had to at all. It was a dangerous time to be a werewolf, and in some ways it probably felt as though the war had never ended.

“That's good to hear, Remus. You deserve some peace after everything—” his words were cut off as he heard his friends' approach.

“Harry, there you are!” Harry turned and saw Hermione, Ron, and Ginny heading toward him. Hermione's gaze flicked to Remus, and her face broke out into a smile. “Professor Lupin, what a surprise! It's been a long time.”

“Please Hermione, I'm hardly your professor anymore,” she bowed her head as a flush crept up her cheeks, while Harry and Ron exchanged an amused grin. “But yes, it's good to see that you're all doing well.”

“And yourself? What have you been doing Remus?” Hermione had clearly tried to make her tone light, but at once it was as though a dark cloud had passed over the group. Silence followed her words, and Remus's smile had become rather fixed. Hermione seemed to realize the tactlessness of her words at the last moment, and opened her mouth in a panic. “Oh, Remus, I'm sorry I didn't—”

“—It's quite all right,” the calm tone of his voice now sounded rather forced. “I am well, all things considered. Thank you.” Hermione frowned, looking as though she wanted to apologize again, while to Harry it seemed that the man was looking for an exit from their increasingly tense conversation.

“Er—well we best get going Remus,” Harry said in an attempt to smooth over the awkwardness of the moment, but in that same instance, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

A nondescript man, brown hair, brown eyes, average height, patchy beard. The type of person one may pass on the street and not give a second glance to. His wand had been raised, his eyes flashed dangerously, and Harry recognized the thin red crescent that adorned the front of his robes. He didn't think, and on instinct alone he threw himself in front of Remus and drew his wand.

Distantly he could hear screaming, as well as Hermione's voice crying shrilly, “Harry, no!” but he was in his element, and his focus was entirely on the man barrelling towards them.

“Avada—” The man began, his eyes blazing with hatred.

“Incarcerous!” Thin ropes sprang from Harry's wand at once, binding the man from head to foot. He released a strangled yelp of shock, and fell heavily to the ground. Harry hurried forward and turned him onto his back with the tip of his shoe. Harry glared down at the man, who glared right back. “Another Red Moon grunt? I hope you like Azkaban, drawing a wand on a Ministry official and attempting to use an Unforgivable? You won't be seeing daylight for a very long time.”

Two fully qualified Aurors hurried forward and took away the man, both of them eyeing Harry very strangely. It reminded him to the looks his classmates had given him following the disaster at the Duelling Club in his second year. It made him uneasy, though he tried to brush it off as he turned back to his friends. None of them were smiling. Harry's gaze shifted to Remus, expecting to see gratitude, relief, anything but what he saw on the man's face.

Remus's eyes were glazed over, red-rimmed, and bloodshot. He stared at Harry with a strange look, an anger almost beyond rage, but it was paired with a look of longing. Startled, Harry took a step back, but the slight movement seemed to jar Remus from his daze, and he took off towards the nearest Floo and disappeared without a backward glance.

“What was that about?” He turned to Hermione, and she looked frightened. Ron and Ginny shared looks of unease and fear, though Harry couldn't place why. Why did some no-name grunt make them look like somebody had died? “What? Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Come on Harry, quickly,” Hermione hissed as she grabbed his arm, and when he did not immediately move, Ginny grabbed his other arm and they steered Harry towards the Floo. Harry was distinctly aware that the Atrium had gone dead silent, and nearly everyone that had remained were staring at him with wide eyes. What's going on? Harry wondered, but he had little time to contemplate it before Hermione threw a handful of glittering powder into the grate and cried out, “The Leaky Cauldron!” The pair shoved him forward, and the Ministry Atrium disappeared in a whirl of green flames.

~*~

Harry barely cleared the fire grate in the pub before he was pinned to the stone by Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. They untangled themselves from one another and stood, brushing off their robes, and Harry spun to face the others, who were still wearing matching expressions of fright. “Okay, wanna tell me what the hell is going on?”

“C'mon mate, you're gonna want to sit down,” Ron steered him to the back of the pub, and forcefully pushed him down onto one of the chairs. Hermione and Ginny followed, she taking one of his hands and squeezed it gently. Hermione signed at Tom, and a round of Firewhisky appeared on their table with a soft pop. Harry knocked back the drink at once, and a second later a nearly-full bottle appeared between them on the tabletop.

“Okay, enough. Why the hell is everyone freaking out about me defending Remus?” Ginny's hand squeezed his tighter, while Ron and Hermione exchanged another fearful look.

“Harry...how much do you remember from when Snape taught us about werewolves in third year?” Hermione's voice was small and timid, and she exchanged a significant look with Ron, though Harry was still at sea.

“That I was supposed to turn to page three-hundred and ninety-four, I dunno. Why? What's all this about?”

“Because...because...Harry, it's the half-moon tonight.” Hermione spoke to Harry as though she was telling him he had some terminal illness.

“So? What has that got to do with anything? It's not like it's the full moon.”

“Harry, the half-moon is the only time a werewolf can mate,” the words tumbled out of Hermione in a rush, as though they would carry less impact the faster she spoke them. “And that is done by their potential laying claim on them...usually by defending them from another potential...well, suitor.”

“Wait, what?” Harry shook his head. Was she saying what Harry thought she was saying? “That man wasn't...I was just trying to keep Remus from getting killed!”

“Exactly. On the half-moon.” Ron looked near-horrified at Harry's nonchalance. “Harry, why d'you think most of the Aurors were on desk duty today? Because any form of defending a werewolf from physical or emotional harm will be seen as a claim to mate. The magic will bond the werewolf to its potential human immediately, and there's no way to break it. You may as well have just proposed to Remus.”

“What?” Harry felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. He looked from one face to the next, hoping that this was some elaborate joke, but their grave expressions didn't change. “But...but...”

“Harry, this is bad. Very bad,” Harry turned to his girlfriend while Hermione spoke, and while Ginny looked frightened, she didn't look angry. “This isn't something that can be controlled or broken. The only way for the bond to break is if one of you, well...dies.” Ginny's hand squeezed his tightly.

“But Remus is...well, Remus. He wouldn't—” Harry's panic-stricken words died in his throat when he looked back and saw Hermione shaking her head.

“He won't have a choice, and he won't be able to control it—at least, not for long.” Hermione paused, chewing the inside of her lip. “I don't know all the details, I'll have to research it further. All I know is that the wolf inside him will pretty much force him to seek you out. When that happens, I don't know what you can expect. He could be violent, possessive...he might even try to hurt Ginny.” Harry's gaze whipped back to her, and his grip on Ginny's hand tightened. He couldn't picture mild-mannered Remus Lupin going after an innocent in any capacity. The idea that this bond-thing might force him to hurt someone made him dizzy with panic.

“Hermione, what am I gonna do? I—I can't, I mean...I don't want, well...you know.”

“I know, Harry. You were just doing what you always do...getting yourself into trouble.” Her mouth quirked into the shadow of a smile. Harry knocked back another shot of whisky while Hermione's tone shifted from grave to serious and businesslike. “Go home. Don't leave the house. Put up extra wards and block your Floo connection. Put up a new Fidelius Charm, because technically Remus is still part-Secret Keeper of Grimmauld Place.” She paused, chewing on her lip as she thought, then added, “I'll do some research, see if there's any accounts of one of these bonds being broken.”

“I'll go see Caldwell for you mate, she probably heard everything already, but just to be on the safe side.” Harry nodded his thanks, his mind still blank with shock.

“What about Ginny?” Harry turned to her, his mouth twitching into a worried frown. Again the images of Remus hurting her came to mind, and he felt himself tense. This was just too bizarre. “Will she be safe at The Burrow?” At once, Ginny scoffed and wrenched her hand from his.

“Oh please. As if I'm going to leave you all alone right now.” She glared at him, “and don't you get all noble on me, Harry Potter. I'll be just as safe with you under the wards at Grimmauld Place as I would be at home.” Ron opened his mouth to protest, but she shot him a glare and his mouth snapped shut at once. Watching her, Harry wondered if it was worth arguing. Before he could answer however, Hermione cut in.

“It's probably a good idea that she come with you, Harry,” she said reasonably, though the two girls exchanged a knowing look. After a moment of tense silence, Hermione added, “Don't let him leave the house, Ginny,” the redhead grinned devilishly.

“Not to worry Hermione, I can think of plenty of things we can do without leaving the house, much less the bedr—” Ron choked on his drink while Harry roared with laughter.
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Lunaticus Book One: Half Moon