Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 9
- 10
- 11
Chapter 10 – Back to Life

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Harry stood in front of the fireplace in their sitting room, dressed in his blue Auror robes. He was staring up at Remus, his eyes wide with worry as he repeated the question for what was likely the twelfth time that morning. It had only been a week since that first kiss after all, and Harry didn't share Remus's certainty that the bond would have been placated that quickly.

The werewolf's arms were wrapped securely around Harry's waist, his hands linked at the small of his back. Harry cast another brief glance to the fire, crackling innocently in the grate, then returned his gaze to Remus.

“I mean, I don't have to go back yet,” Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, half a dozen worst-case scenarios playing through his mind as though on a film reel. “I mean, are you sure the bond is as settled as you think it is? What if something happens and you need to come see me and something happens to you? And without me here you'll be alone with just Kreacher for company all d—” Remus cut off Harry's ramblings with a kiss, his large hands moving to cup Harry's cheeks. Harry's eyes fluttered shut, and he threw his arms around Remus's neck, pulling him close.

“Harry,” he breathed his name, Remus's callused thumbs lightly brushing over Harry's cheekbones. “I'm not a dog, I will be fine on my own for a few hours. The bond is as settled as it can be right now, and I do not see it causing any problems if you return to work. I know you miss it, it can't be exactly fun for you to be locked up here all the time.”

Harry smiled weakly, but didn't disagree; he enjoyed spending time with Remus, but the extended time they had to spend indoors had definitely started getting to him. Remus kissed Harry again, more gently this time, and Harry struggled to stifle the groan of longing as he eased into the kiss.

“If you start feeling antsy, just send me a note with Strax and I'll come straight home, okay?” Remus chuckled softly, and pecked one last kiss on the corner of Harry's mouth.

“It's a promise. Now, get going.” Remus pulled back from their embrace and nudged Harry towards the fire. He looked back and offered Remus one last small smile, then disappeared in a swirl of green flame.

~*~

It felt very strange to be back at the Ministry.

The memories of what had happened the last time he'd been here flooded into his mind, and he felt distinctly uneasy. As he stumbled out of the Floo and made a beeline for the lift, but he was still acutely aware of the stares and hissing whispers that followed him. The whispers was nothing new for him, though it was difficult to ignore the way certain people skirted around him, as though he carried some sort of catching disease.

Lost in his whirlwind of worried thoughts, it came as a surprise when he suddenly found himself standing before his office door. Harry shook his head a few times in an attempt to clear his mind, and stepped inside.

“Potter!” Auror Caldwell's wizened face broke into a genuine smile, and she strode forward to clap Harry hard on the shoulder. Her short and bristly silver hair was slightly longer than the last time he'd seen her, but her bright blue eyes still shone with the same energy of a much younger woman.

“Good to have you back my lad. Come on, I have something to show you.” She gripped his shoulder and steered him further into the office.

Harry looked around as he walked; it still looked he same as it had the last time he'd been at work. The walls were adorned with photographs of known Red Moon members, and a number of buildings that were suspected to be their various headquarters. Caldwell stopped him in front of part of the walls where a number of new gruesome photographs had been pinned up. Harry grimaced as he stared at one in particular—a corpse of what at one time may have been a man. It had been flayed; the limbs seemed strangely extended and bent at awkward angles in a pool of blood.

Harry stared at it for a moment, focusing on the limbs and almost inhuman quality to them, the way they bent out at odd angles...and he gasped sharply suddenly in understanding.

“Yes, we came to the same conclusion—skinned alive, at the full moon.” Harry shivered, and his thoughts went at once to Remus alone at Grimmauld Place. For one wild moment, he had a strong desire to rush home and make sure he was okay.

Harry looked away from the photographs for a moment, took a deep breath in an effort to calm down. He refocused his gaze on the gory images, pushing away his personal feelings and observing them as objectively as he could.

“D'you think it's related? I mean, it doesn't exactly match the M.O.,” Harry studied it, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat the longer he looked.

“Ah, well that's where you might be mistaken. Have a look,” she gripped his shoulder again and steered him away from the photographs and over to her desk, which was covered with a stack of dusty old books. Caldwell picked up the top volume, a thick leather-bound volume, and she flicked to a page two-thirds of the way in, and pushed it into his hands. Harry looked down, and he felt his jaw drop open.

Many Dark curses involve the taking of a life to incant it, the most infamous being the Nex Globus. This dark curse has been seen used sporadically through history by Dark Wizards bent on the eradication of the muggle population; most notably in Rwanda, Germany, The Ottoman Empire...

Harry couldn't read any more, and looked back up to Caldwell, his eyes wide with horror.

“Nex Globus? The genocide curse?” Harry felt a little nauseous as he snapped the book shut, unable to look at the horrific illustrations that followed the text he'd read.

“The murders, the flaying...it does seem to fit,” Caldwell replied grimly, crossing her arms across her chest.

“They're at seven double murders,” she continued after a tense moment of silence. Harry placed the book back gingerly on the table, and refocused his attention on his supervisor. “This one makes fifteen deaths total. According to our sources, they need twelve in order to create their Nexbolus, the energy bomb that will do the real damage.”

“In other words, we're running out of time,” Harry grimaced and leant against the side of the desk. He crossed his arms and tried to keep his mind focused on the problem, instead of his mounting worry for Remus. To his words Caldwell laughed, but it was a bitter sound.

“That would be putting it mildly, Mr Potter.”

Harry spent his morning poring over reports, old texts, and sending memos back and forth between the other Aurors on the case, comparing notes and findings with the others as he went. By early afternoon, Harry felt positively knackered. He was in mid-step heading for the office door to check something in the Ministry Archives when a familiar ginger poked his head in. “Harry!” Ron proclaimed in enthusiastic greeting, and Harry's face split into a smile. “Lunch. Wanna come with us to the Leaky Cauldron?” Harry opened his mouth to ask who he meant by us when the door opened further to show Hermione standing there, smiling warmly at him.

“Yeah, that'd be great,” he grabbed his cloak and hurried out into the hall without even a backward glance to Caldwell, though he was certain he could hear her laugh as he dashed out the door.

Before Harry had completely crossed the door's threshold, Hermione threw herself at him in a tight hug. Harry choked a little, the hug effectively cutting off the flow of air to his lungs, while he patted her shoulder awkwardly until she finally let go. Her eyes were a little glassy as she stepped back, and she wore a wide smile to match Ron's.

“Oh Harry, it's so good to see you! We've missed you, how are things? How did the full—” Harry silenced her with a look, when more than one person slowed their stride a little too near to them for his liking.

“Let's talk somewhere else, all right?” Hermione flushed with embarrassment, and the trio hurried down to the Atrium and through the Floo without a word to one another.

After they had tumbled through the pub's fireplace and they had been settled into a private room, steak and kidney pie and flagons of butterbeer between them, Hermione tried again.

“So, how has it been going?” She smiled faintly when Harry flushed a deep crimson. “I mean, you definitely look better than you did the last time I saw you...”

“It's going well,” Harry said slowly, cramming a rather large forkful of pie into his mouth as he thought of how to word the response. Ron was leaning back in his chair, his portion already long gone, and he was nursing his drink much more slowly than was probably necessary.

“I mean, it's...different, but good different.” Harry smiled to himself and glanced towards the fire grate, his thoughts straying back to the man in question, and almost flushed (but thankfully didn't) as his heart fluttered in his chest. Harry lifted his tankard to his mouth, and Ron decided that that moment was the best time to be as crude as possible.

“So, has he slipped you the big greaser yet?” Ron grinned while Harry choked, half the butterbeer foam flying up his nose, while Hermione cried out in disgust and hit the guffawing ginger on the shoulder.

“Ron! That's private!” Harry was grateful for Hermione's indignation on his behalf, as he was too busy coughing and blowing his nose to form a clear response. Ron seemed unconcerned by Hermione's indignation, still positively howling with laugher.

“Well, have you?” He asked again when Harry had finally recovered, though he was still rather red.

“Ask me again, and I will send you detailed howlers about what me and Ginny got up to when you weren't around.” Harry smirked when Ron went as red as his hair. Harry knew Ginny well enough that she wouldn't be too upset if he actually followed through with his threat. Ron seemed to think that was a low blow and glared at Harry.

“You wouldn't.”

“Yeah? Try me.” The pair stared each other down, Ron still watching him uncertainly, while Harry smirked. The silence finally broke when the pair dissolved into slightly strained laughter, and Harry only went back for another drink when Ron's mouth was otherwise occupied with his own tankard.

“Remus is pretty private,” Harry said when the atmosphere had calmed down once more. He shrugged his shoulders, looking at the pair somewhat apologetically. “I don't want him to think I'm discussing our personal life with other people, even if it's you two. He's still feeling pretty guilty about the whole thing. He doesn't say it, but I can tell.” Harry felt rather giddy as the phrase our personal life slipped out, and once more he hoped his pleasure did not explicitly show on his face.

“I find that hard to believe,” Hermione said honestly, her mouth twitching into a small frown. “I mean, he was sort of...all over you when I last saw him.”

“That was the bond, not him,” Harry's defensive tone caused Hermione to flinch a little, but it barely registered with Harry while he pushed forward. “I mean, he's not like that normally. Like, we're close and stuff, but in public he's pretty reserved.”

“In public? Harry d'you think that's a good idea, what with Red Moon still at large?” Ron's eyes went a little round with worry, and Harry felt his heart lighten. Having this concerned version of Ron instead of the belligerent, jealous version he'd been subject to on occasion was heartening, and it was a genuine relief to see.

“We've only gone out a couple of times to muggle areas. We're usually alone, so the threat is minimal. I was worried about that too, but Remus has been good about sticking to places where we could easily see a threat coming if it happened.” Harry shrugged, and took another bite of his food, then made an effort to divert the conversation away from him. “Now tell me about you two. I bet you've been having loads of fun without me.”

Slowly, they fell back into familiar conversation. They talked and joked, alternating between serious topics and casual ones, and it was like they had never been apart. Hermione and Ron took turns filling Harry in on what he'd missed during his time away.

“George and Lee came up with a new line of prank merchandise for people with pets,” Ron said, his mouth quivering between a smile and a frown. “He sent a package to McGonagall asking her to test out their Super Catnip for them and she sent him another one of those George Weasley stop sending me cat toys letters back in a biting envelope. You should see his hands—he's covered in papercuts.”

“You'd think George would've gotten the message after trying to send her a ball of yarn last Christmas,” Harry snickered, and Ron laughed.

“He's just a glutton for punishment,” Ron looked away for a moment, and the trio fell silent. The loss of Fred was still as painful as it had been three years earlier, and mention of the joke shop invariably reminded them all of the Weasley brother that had been lost in that final battle. Ron took a deep breath and shook his head, as though trying to shoo away a fly. “We better be getting back Harry, it's almost two.”

There was a veil of gloom hanging over them as they took the Floo back to the Ministry that afternoon. Ron's elegaic mood followed them all the way back to their respective offices, and Harry felt it would be insensitive to try and shake him out of it. Hermione had been as closed-mouth as he had been, and they exchanged a look of worry before she gave them each a quick hug, lingering a little longer with Ron, then hurried off to her own floor.

The rest of his day passed in a tense blur as his attention refocused entirely on the case, and he left that evening feeling as though his brain had been removed and replaced with cotton. The idea that Red Moon might be trying to wipe out the werewolves in Britain in such a brutal way was horrifying, and Harry wondered if they'd actually be able to stop it.

It wasn't as though Harry hadn't faced insurmountable odds before, but it felt different than it had when he was being hunted by Voldemort. It wasn't just him that was in danger this time—it was an entire species, an entire society. It felt like they were looking for a needle in a stack of needles, trying to figure out where they would strike next.

Harry's mind overwhelmed with dark thoughts as he stepped into the Floo and headed for home. He wondered how Remus had fared without him over the course of the day, and his musings were answered almost at once.

Before he had even stepped down from the hearth, as his ash-covered form was enveloped by the werewolf in a hug that felt more like he'd been tackled, the strength of it causing Harry to stagger back slightly. Remus buried his face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply, then captured Harry's mouth in a demanding, dominant kiss.

Harry shuddered under the contact, and felt as though he had been hit with a particularly powerful Jelly Legs Jinx. He grabbed blindly at his partner, uncertain whether he wanted to stave him off or encourage him. His lungs began to protest however and he broke away, his breath coming out in short gasps. “Give me a moment Remus,” Harry panted, his mind still spinning from the Floo trip. Remus stepped a scant half-step back, but still held onto him, his breathing nearly as laboured as Harry's was.

When Harry had found his footing, he closed the distance between them and pulled Remus in for another kiss. Remus groaned softly, and they broke apart with sluggish, reluctant movements. The look in Remus's eyes spoke of his clear desire, and the expression left Harry feeling strangely overwhelmed.

In an effort to push past the intense moment, he forced his mouth to twist into a small, amused smile. “I guess that answers my question of whether...” Harry trailed off, distracted by the room they stood in. He blinked a few times, then realized that all the furniture had been rearranged, and one of the full bookcases from the library had been dragged into a corner that had previously been bare. He looked out into the hall and beyond into the next room, only to see that it was the same in there—everything had been moved around, though it was rather attractively done, Harry had to admit.

Snickering, Harry turned back to Remus. “I guess it's assume safe to you had a boring day?” Remus's mouth quirked into an amused smirk.

“Not exactly. I sensed some distress coming from you through the bond this morning, and I did not think it would be wise to burst into your office and ravage you—” Harry snorted and went red in equal measure, though Remus ignored it and continued, “—and rearranging your furniture seemed a safe way to keep my mind busy until the sensation passed.”

“Well,” Harry couldn't stifle another small laugh that escaped him as he took in the room's new arrangement. Remus's hand fell to the small of his back while he looked over the changes that had been made.

“It's different, but good different. It's your home too, you know. You can arrange it however the hell you want. I'm sure your eye for décor is better than mine, at any rate.” Harry paused, and wondered how much of the case he could safely divulge, without getting in trouble with Caldwell. “There was another murder in this case I've been on. The details were rather...upsetting.” The images floated back into his mind's eye, and he shivered, Remus's hand on his back at once beginning to move in slow, comforting circles.

Keen to put the case out of his mind, he stepped further into the sitting room, brushing off the ash as he pulled off his cloak and tossed it over the arm of the sofa. He sat down heavily and Remus joined him at once, flicking his wand lazily and two steaming mismatched mugs zoomed towards them, Remus pressing the green mug into Harry's hands, while he took the blue one.

“I didn't know you could, erm, feel me through the bond that way,” Harry said at last, his eyes still on his partner while his hands cradled the warm mug.

“Generally I can't, but when emotions are running high I may be able to sense it. Since I'm the, er, dominant partner,” he offered Harry an apologetic look at his choice of phrasing but Harry motioned for him to continue. “It's instinct for me to protect you, that's why I'm able to sense you, but you won't be able to sense my emotions the same way.”

“So much for an equal partnership, then.” Harry smiled weakly, uncertain how he felt about that, and at last looked down to the mug he'd been given. “This isn't tea...” he stared down at the contents of his mug, blinking bemusedly. Remus chuckled a little, and threw an arm around Harry's shoulders. At once, he eased into the embrace.

“It's Chocolat Chaud. Fancy French hot chocolate. I thought you might need it, after the...morning.”

“Good call,” Harry grinned a little, and blew on the drink cradled in his hands. He took a small sip, mindful of Remus's eyes on him while the werewolf waited for his reaction. Almost at once, Harry moaned.

“Oh my God, that's good,” he took a larger sip, and licked the excess off the corner of his upper lip.

Remus chuckled and he eased back into the sofa's cushions. Harry followed his movements, a relaxed smile playing across his lips. They sat and drank in comfortable silence, Harry enjoying the feel of Remus next to him, a warmth filling him that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

The reaction startled Harry for a moment, and he hid his face behind the mug as he thought it over. When this had all started, Harry had feared that being the submissive partner would emasculate him in some way, or throw him into the role of the woman of the relationship. Harry was rather pleased that none of his worries had come to pass, and he felt just as masculine with Remus as he had with Ginny.

Thinking of his ex now, Harry was amazed at how little it stung. Harry supposed having Remus near had helped him get over her faster, though it still unnerved him just how fast things had progressed.

Harry slipped from Remus's gentle embrace and stood, setting down the partially drunk beverage on the table. He stretched, his spine popping in a few places before he began to circle the sofa and head for the stairs. Catching Remus's near-distressed expression, Harry smiled reassuringly at him, “breathe, Remus. I'm just going to get changed.” The older man smiled sheepishly and nodded, while Harry headed upstairs.

After changing from his Auror robes into his favourite pair of tatty jeans and one of his many Weasley jumpers, he descended the stairs to find Remus gone. Harry wandered barefoot towards the kitchen, and smiled as his suspicion turned out to be correct as Kreacher stalked past him huffily.

“Nasty werewolf makes a big mess of Kreacher's nice kitchen...Probably slipping poor Master Harry Amortentia, for shame...Oh, if Mistress Ginny could see what the nasty werewolf has done to Kreacher's poor Master...” Harry snickered as he watched the elf disappear down the hall, muttering furiously under his breath as he went.

“If you suddenly find rat poison in your morning porridge, don't blame me.” Harry announced as he wandered into the kitchen and leant against the small scrubbed table that hardly saw any use. Remus was at the cooker with his wand out and chuckled, though he did not answer straightaway.

“Don't give him ideas Harry,” he said at last, and Harry could hear the smile in his voice.

“I'm sure his methods to murder you are much more creative than whatever I could come up with,” Harry grinned and stepped over to see what Remus was doing. He could see carrots, celery, onions, and a bloody cutting board where he'd chopped some raw meat.

“What're we having?” He asked at last, shifting back to the table to stay out of the way.

“Stew,” Remus smiled as he said it, never turning his eyes from his task as he conducted knives, vegetables, and herbs with his wand, and soon the kitchen was filled with the savoury aroma of herbs and cooking meat. Harry's mouth began to water, and he was struck suddenly by how hungry he actually was.

Harry watched the man work for the better part of an hour, and when it looked as though it was nearly ready he decided to make himself useful. He pulled down the necessary dishes and cutlery and carried it to the dining room. He had only just finished laying everything out when Remus appeared in the doorway with the stew in a large serving bowl, a loaf of bread, and a large pat of butter, along with a bottle of mead. All of it was floating in front of him, and he conducted it over to the table with even, precise flicks of his wand.

Harry sat down, Remus him then himself, something about the gesture feeling strangely intimate, though he couldn't figure out why. He settled down into the seat across from Harry and they tucked in, and he found himself again positively gobsmacked by the quality of the meal that Remus had prepared.

“You say stew, but this tastes more like something I'd find in one of those grossly overpriced restaurants in Diagon Alley.” The comment earned Harry a bark-like laugh, and he took a sip of drink before he answered.

“Thank you Harry,” he replied, a soft chortle accompanying the words. Slowly, a comfortable quiet fell between them as they ate. The silence was punctuated by casual conversation, both of them steering from the more serious topics that had come up throughout the day.

Harry was again struck by that shock—that surprise as they sat there and ate. He never thought he could be anywhere near the realm of comfortable with Remus like this, nor with the bond that now overshadowed virtually every aspect of his life. Harry doubted he would ever have willingly chosen to enact the bond, but not for the first time in recent history, he found himself grateful that it had happened. He no longer felt trapped by the bond or by Remus, and more often than not, Harry felt like what he had with Remus was a gift.

After they'd finished eating, Remus banished the dishes and leftover food to the kitchen and he conjured a tea tray. He carried out to the sitting room, while Harry stood and followed, unable to wipe the small smile off his face as he went.

Each evening following dinner, they would bring a tea tray to the sitting room, and they'd share a cuppa while they relaxed. There were never any demands tied their time together, and beyond feeling safe and comfortable with Remus, Harry felt wanted, not needed. Not necessary, not pivotal to some grand plan—his presence there was simply welcomed. It made Harry feel less like the would-be boy hero so much of the wizarding world had painted him as, and more like a human being.

Harry settled into the crook of Remus's arm and accepted the cup he'd been handed, while he folded his knees and tucked his feet under his buttocks. Remus's hand moved from his shoulder to toy with the hairs at the nape of his neck, and Harry felt that familiar tingle of delight rush through him. He felt himself flush a little, his bodily reaction to the gentle touch not on equal footing with what Harry felt that he was ready for physically. It left him feeling a little dizzy with confusion, and fleetingly Harry wondered if Remus was able to sense what the light touch was doing to him, though at the same time Harry rather hoped that he couldn't.

Harry sent his empty teacup to the coffee table with a lazy flick of his wand a few minutes later, and it settled down neatly next to Remus's. At once, Harry felt warm lips press into the hollow of his throat, and his eyelids fluttered at the contact. Remus's right hand moved to cradle the opposite side of Harry's neck while he pressed feather-light kisses along the column of flesh, trailing his way up and along his jaw with infuriatingly slow movements before finally capturing the young man's mouth with his own.

Harry reached up to awkwardly brush his fingers across the stubbled cheek, while Remus turned a little, guiding Harry down onto his back. The older man braced his arms on either side of Harry's head to avoid crushing him, and ever so slowly Harry parted his lips, and Remus took the opportunity to dart his tongue into the young man's mouth. Harry's breath hitched a little, the werewolf tasting him while simultaneously encouraging Harry to do the same, which he did at first with a halting uncertainty, then with greater enthusiasm as he grew more confident.

Remus tugged at Harry's lower lip gently with his teeth, nowhere near hard enough to even bruise the flesh. He gazed down at Harry through half-lidded eyes, and lifted one hand to trace the contours of Harry's cheek with the rough pad of his thumb.

“All right?” Remus asked, his voice low and husky, the tone sending another thrill of desire through Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry's response was barely above a whisper, and he wrapped his arms more securely around Remus's neck and pulled him down for another long, open mouthed kiss. His mind felt as though it had been shrouded in a thick fog, and he struggled to ignore the faint twist of nervousness that rested in the pit of his stomach.

Emboldened by Harry's response, Remus's wayward hands trailed slowly down his front, and he pressed the heel of his hand into the front of his jeans. Harry broke the kiss with a sharp gasp, his panic momentarily eclipsing his lust; it was too soon, and Harry did not feel anywhere near ready to take the next step.

“Remus, stop,” his voice escaped him as a choked, fearful whisper, and at once Remus let Harry go and sat up. Harry felt his blush return, though this time it was one of shame, and not embarrassment or desire.

“I-I'm sorry,” he mumbled, pulling himself up alongside the older man, but he wasn't able to meet his eyes. “I want to, I do. But...not yet. I'm just—I...I'm sorry.” he frowned, staring into the embers of the dying fire in the grate. “I'm sorry for getting you worked up,” he opened his mouth to say more, but after his third apology, Remus silenced him with a gentle kiss, his hand cradling the back of Harry's neck gently.

“No apology needed, Harry,” Remus murmured, releasing him at once. “If you're not ready, you're not ready. I can wait, you don't need to feel embarrassed.” He paused, and the familiar placid smile crossed his features, while he reached out to gently squeeze Harry's shoulder. He hung his head, feeling so stupid for allowing things to escalate to the point that they had. Seeming to sense what Harry had been feeling, Remus spoke again.

“Don't feel ashamed. You're allowed to stop things if they get to be too much for you.” Harry smiled weakly, though Remus's reassurances did little to put his mind at ease.

“Thanks Remus,” he mumbled, still looking away from the older man in an attempt to hide how embarrassed he felt. Harry felt Remus shift on the sofa and press a kiss into his hair, before he stood and walked slowly up to the second landing.

Not long after, Harry heard the telltale sound of the shower coming to life.

A/N: Chocolat Chaud literally translates to 'hot chocolate' but there is a Parisian version of hot chocolate which is way more rich than your standard cocoa powder, sugar, and hot water/hot milk combination. It's made with actual chocolate pieces (usually 60-70% dark) and literally tastes like you're drinking a chocolate bar. It's so. damn. good. (This factoid is according to Vegan Chocolate by Fran Costigan)
- 9
- 10
- 11
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Lunaticus Book One: Half Moon