Lunaticus Book Three: New Moon Rising | By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Remus Views: 12583 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2 |
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time. |
A/N: Next update will be August 25th. Please enjoy this week's instalment!
Chapter Eighteen – Sneak Attack
They were halfway through breakfast the following morning when it happened.
Ulrich was visibly much calmer than he had been the previous night, thanks in no small part to Harry's attentions before they'd gone to sleep. If any of the Weasleys had noticed the reason for his more easygoing mood, they didn't comment on it.
However, Harry was fairly certain that he saw Molly and Arthur exchange a knowing glance more than once.
Malfoy was sullen, and sat next to Ginny with his arms crossed. Harry had reigned in the temptation to wind him up after he saw the cold way in which Molly and Arthur had greeted him, as though they only just barely tolerated his presence at their table. He couldn't help but feel bad for his former rival, but he didn't dare speak on it, given that Harry was fairly certain that Malfoy would not appreciate his pity.
George, on the other hand, looked rather pleased with himself. Angelina had spent most of the meal elbowing him sharply every time it looked as though he was going to comment on the prank he'd pulled on Malfoy the night before.
Harry was just helping himself to a fourth serving of sausages and eggs when an insistent, feverish knocking sounded from the front door. Harry, Ulrich, and Hermione's heads all snapped up, and their gazes whipped towards the door.
Even without Molly answering it, they could all smell who it was at once.
“What the hell is Tavish doing here?” Harry whispered softly as Molly jumped up and bustled over to the door (“All right, all right! I'm coming!”).
“Hell if I know,” Ulrich replied in the same low tone of voice, “he's no great shakes at tracking, which means whatever it is, it's probably not good.”
“D'you think something happened at the pack?” Hermione asked worriedly, and Harry bit his bottom lip nervously when Ulrich's expression darkened.
“I don't know,” Ulrich answered, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a moment before he stood up, “I need to go and see what this is about.”
“I'm coming with you,” Harry replied at once, and narrowed his eyes a little when Ulrich frowned at him. At the same moment, he felt his heart jump into his throat when the sound of Tavish's voice rent the air—he sounded close to tears.
“Who are you?” Molly asked, her voice wary.
“M-my name is Tavish, I'm from the pack, please, please, I know Ulrich is here, I need to see him.”
“All right, he's in the kitchen, why don't you—young man, slow down!”
Harry's argument to the frown Ulrich was giving him was perched on his tongue when Tavish raced into the kitchen. A number of the Weasleys jumped up in alarm at his sudden appearance, including Harry and Hermione, and they quickly circled the table to join their distraught pack member.
Tavish looked awful. His clothes were frayed and tattered; the sleeves of his T-shirt and the cuffs of his jeans were singed, and there was a thin, slowly healing cut on his cheek that seemed to be blistering around the edges.
Silver, Harry realized suddenly.
“Tavish?” Harry asked weakly, “what happened? Are you all right?”
Tavish acted as though he couldn't see Harry, and focused his attention completely on Ulrich. He ran at him and gripped his upper arms tightly, while Ulrich reached forward to help Tavish stay standing as the sub's eyes brimmed with tears.
“Please, please, Ulrich, you have to come home, something awful's happened.”
“What's going on, Tavish? Where's Alpha?” Ulrich demanded, and Tavish let out a soft, choking sob.
“Taken—the wizard Ministry came—t-they said that he was under arrest for murder, but he didn't do anything! When he resisted they attacked with silver, they—they—they took him away, Ulrich, he wasn't even awake when he took him, he might be dead, I don't know, but, please...please, you have to help him!”
“Tavish, I need you to calm down and think,” Ulrich said, his voice unnervingly calm, though Harry could see that the dominant's eyes were wide with horror at what the sub was telling him. “How did the wizards get through our warding?”
“I—I don't know,” Tavish replied, his voice badly shaking, “they broke it or something. We heard a noise, like thunder, but louder, and then suddenly they were everywhere.”
“Is everyone else all right?” Ulrich asked, and when Tavish didn't immediately answer, the dominant grabbed hold of his shoulders and shook him sharply. “Tavish!” the sub yelped and refocused his teary gaze on Ulrich. “Is everyone else all right? Is anyone hurt?”
“A-Adina got hurt when they came for Alpha,” Tavish replied with a wince, “but she's all right, it's not too serious. B-But Bryce took control since you weren't there. I—I didn't know what to do, I—I don't know whether it's better if you go to the Ministry or—or come back to the territory...you know what Bryce is like.” Tavish's voice had dropped to a whisper, and Harry shivered involuntarily. They all knew what Tavish meant without him having to say it; Bryce in charge would be nothing short of a disaster for the pack's unmated submissives.
“I can go on ahead to the Ministry and see what I can find out about these charges against him,” Ron said suddenly, drawing the attention of the four werewolves over to him. In the heat of the moment, Harry had rather forgotten that the others were even there. “If they're trumped up accusations in any way, I'll bring it straight to Kingsley. But...if it's been leaked to the public that he had been released back when Red Moon was still a danger, pressure from the wizarding public might make it harder to secure a release, even if he was falsely accused.”
“Thank you,” Tavish said softly, and sniffed a little as he rubbed at his eyes roughly. “You're Ron, right? Hermione and Harry have mentioned you.”
Ron's ears went very red and he nodded with a meek smile while he crammed a last sausage into his mouth, and stepped over to the kitchen's fireplace.
“I know it's hard, but try to resist storming the Ministry just yet,” he said thickly, “it might do more harm than good.”
“I'm coming with you,” Harry said, and moved to join Ron, but staggered to a halt when Ulrich grabbed his upper arm to stop him. Harry whirled around and shot Ulrich a glare. “Ulrich, I have to!”
“You're not part of them anymore, Harry,” Ulrich shot back firmly, “and I am telling you unequivocally, as your Alpha, to come back to the territory, now.”
“I was part of the Aurors, I know how the system works,” Harry protested, completely ignoring the command, “I can help, now let me go!” He yanked on his arm, but instead of letting him go, Ulrich tightened his hold, and Harry whimpered in pain. He tugged Harry forward, and even with his heels pressed firmly against the stone floor, that did not deter the dominant as he dragged Harry back to him.
“I'm not screwing around,” Ulrich growled, “I'm not losing anyone else to the wizard Ministry. You will come back, now, and we're going to regroup. Your friend will go to the Ministry on our behalf, and we are going to take a step back and wait before we go barrelling in. I don't care about anything but getting Alpha back, and I'm not about to risk his freedom for your pigheadedness. We're going.”
“Remus would have let me go,” Harry said coldly, and his eyes narrowed into a glare.
The entire kitchen fell into dead silence, and Ulrich looked as though he'd been slapped.
In truth, Harry had no idea if Remus would have 'allowed' him to go, but in his desperation to help, he couldn't think of anything else to say that would convince Ulrich that he could help, and not hinder Greyback's release.
Ulrich's grip on Harry tensed, and he turned suddenly to Hermione. “Will you come with us?” he asked, “I know generally you only spend your moons with us, but we could use all the help we can get right now, and you're more level-headed than most of the other dominants in our pack.”
“Of course,” Hermione said shakily, and exchanged a look with Ron. He nodded once, and disappeared into the Floo, then she refocused her attention back on the other dominant. “What can I do?”
“Keep an eye on this idiot,” Ulrich said in a similar cold tone to the one Harry had used earlier, and shoved him at Hermione. Hermione squeaked in surprise when Harry stumbled into her, but immediately she closed her hands around Harry's forearms to stop him from taking off. “Let's go.”
Ulrich did not even bother saying goodbye to the others, and merely hurried out the door with Tavish at his side. Hermione hastened to follow after muttering a few apologies to the other Weasleys, and went after the beta, dragging a swearing and protesting Harry along with her as she went.
~*~
The moment they got back to the territory, Harry wrenched himself away from Hermione, and turned furiously towards Ulrich. He opened his mouth to argue, but the unspoken protest was met with a withering glare. Ulrich's lip curled back to show his teeth, and Harry hesitated.
“Watch him,” Ulrich grunted to Hermione and Tavish, and spun on his heel and hurried towards the main area of the territory.
“Harry—” Hermione began, but Harry ignored her as he stormed off towards the edge of the wood, his arms crossed and his expression set in an infuriated scowl. “Harry, please...” Hermione tried again, her tone pleading, but Harry was far too angry to worry about upsetting her further with his foul mood.
“Has everyone forgotten that I'm not fucking helpless?” Harry demanded as he whirled on her, and she flinched as though he'd struck her. “Just because I'm a sub, suddenly I'm some sort of...of...invalid. Poor little Harry, can't do what he was good at, he has to be a good little sub and cower in the territory like some sort of...” he clenched his teeth and let out a snarl, and turned to kick at the closest tree, but it did not make him feel him feel any better, and succeeded only in making his foot hurt.
“He's just scared, they all are,” Hermione said consolingly, “please, Harry, don't make this about you—it's not. It's about getting Alpha back, and if you go barrelling in and say or do the wrong thing, it might make things worse, not better.”
“I'm not making this about me!” Harry protested hotly, “I just—I can help, but Ulrich is treating me like a child and not letting me do that!”
Out of nowhere, a sudden searing pain lanced through the side of his face, and Harry staggered back, his hand raising to cup his cheek.
It took Harry a moment to realize that he had been slapped, but not simply slapped, but swiped at with a werewolf's claws, and three deep gouges had been dug into his skin. Harry stared; Tavish was glaring at him, his expression more infuriated than Harry could recall ever seeing it before.
“You don't care about Alpha at all,” Tavish snarled angrily, “you're turning this into some stupid excuse to prove yourself.” His voice shaking so badly from his fury that he could barely articulate the words clearly, and the dangerous tone was more than enough to shock Harry into silence. “My and Adina's mate has been taken away, and all you care about is showing off how you're not like other subs. Well, you know what, Harry? I don't care. I don't give a flying fuck if you're the Chosen One, or The Boy Who Lived, or Father fucking Christmas. I will not let you risk my mate's freedom so that you can show off. If you try anything stupid, like sneaking off, I swear, I will kill you.”
Without another word Tavish stormed off, and Harry watched him hurry over to Adina and fold himself into her arms. Even at a distance, he could see a deep gash in the female sub's forearm, and the pair of them were trembling and crying while they tried to console each other.
With his hand still cupped over his bleeding cheek, Harry stomped wordlessly over to the cabins.
“Harry, where are you going?” Hermione asked, her tone still carrying that pleading lilt.
“The Sub House,” Harry grumbled, his eyes focused resolutely forward, and not on his friend who was dogging his steps, “I need to be alone.”
Hermione tried to talk to him, to engage him in conversation, but in his near-blinding rage, Harry didn't catch much of it. She skidded to a halt at the doors of the house, but Harry ignored her hurt and worried look as he slammed the door in her face, and stomped over to his old bed.
Now that he was alone, Harry felt some of his rage begin to evaporate, only to be replaced with a maudlin sort of feeling. He fell heavily onto the bed and stared up at the blank wooden ceiling of the house, while a jumble of contradictory thoughts swept through his mind.
It's not fair, I can help! I'm not useless!
I should be thinking about Tavish and Adina, it's their mate who was taken...
Greyback didn't even do anything! What was Sahir thinking, arresting him?!
Harry wasn't certain when he had fallen asleep, but he woke sometime later to a cold nose pressing against his cheek, and the sound of a soft, lupine whine breaking the silence. He cracked one of his sleep-crusted eyes open to take in the sight of the dusky grey wolf at his bedside, and found himself wholly unsurprised that Ulrich had the ability to transform at will.
“You're not supposed to be in here,” Harry chastised in a raspy tone of voice, “aren't you supposed to be off playing alpha or something?”
Ulrich whined, and laved his tongue over the scabbed scratch on Harry's cheek. He winced when the wolf saliva made the hours-old injury sting sharply, but for the moment, didn't move.
There was a loud crunching of bone and an audible grunt, and suddenly Ulrich was sitting on the edge of his bed, naked, and he was regarding Harry with a sad, remorseful look in his eyes. He reached for his mate and tangled his fingers in Harry's hair. Harry accepted the contact with a soft, sad sigh.
“I'm sorry, Ulrich,” Harry muttered softly, “I've been a total arse.”
“I'm sorry too,” Ulrich replied, “I know you're not helpless—hell, we all know that. But it's a difficult situation, and I don't think you quite realize just how the wizard Ministry really sees us. I just...right now, I don't want to take any unnecessary risks.”
Harry reached up for Ulrich's hand and pulled it away from his hair while he closed both of his hands over the dominant's larger one as he sat up. Ulrich barely moved, his head still bowed, and his wave of dark hair fell into his eyes, though he made no attempt to brush it away. He appeared genuinely sorry for giving Harry the brushoff.
“Don't be sorry,” Harry mumbled as he dropped his eyes to the hand in his, “I deserved it. I was a total arse.”
Ulrich chuckled but didn't disagree, and reached out with his free hand to stroke Harry's uninjured cheek.
“We got an answer from your friend, by the way,” he said, and Harry's gaze jerked up, his eyes wide and questioning. His heart seemed to freeze in his chest when he saw the mournful look on Ulrich's face, and held his breath as Ulrich pulled him close and began to stroke his hair with his free hand, then relayed to Harry what Ron had told him. “He's being imprisoned on two counts of murder—the man and child those rogues killed. It didn't help that he wasn't wearing his Portkey thing when they arrested him, so they're holding that against him too, since technically he broke one of the conditions of his release by removing it. Your friend is trying to push for a trial, but given that he's an Auror and not in Magical Law Enforcement, he says there's only so much he can do.”
“But he's innocent—of those murders, at least,” Harry replied while he tried to focus, but the gentle touches were lulling him back to sleep, and his words came out rather slurred. “If Ron can secure a trial, we can prove that—we've got memory evidence.”
“Wizards barely tolerate our kind, and Alpha is infamous to them,” Ulrich replied, his tone even, but Harry could still hear a note of anger in his voice. “It will be nothing short of a miracle if they don't throw him back in Azkaban over some loophole or something.”
“I want to help,” Harry said firmly, though it sounded rather weak to his own ears, given that he felt positively exhausted by all the excitement—in particular, his fight with Tavish. “Please, I can help.”
“We'll discuss it in the morning,” Ulrich said soothingly, and reached for Harry again. “Come home with me? I'll patch you up, too.”
Home.
Strangely, Harry found himself genuinely conflicted about whether or not he wanted to go with Ulrich for the night. He was still more than a little irritated at his brushoff earlier, but he was not so dense that he did not understand why—he was scared.
They all were.
At the same time, the prospect of home filled Harry with a warm longing. With the pack's morale so badly shattered, Harry had a feeling that Ulrich needed the comfort of his mate nearby much more than Harry did at the moment.
“Yeah, all right,” Harry said at last, and Ulrich broke into a small smile as he shifted back into his wolf form, and trotted along at Harry's side as they exited the House and wove through the cabins to Ulrich's cabin—their cabin.
The moment Harry and the bear-sized wolf got inside, Ulrich shifted back to his human form and threw on a pair of jeans, but as usual, he didn't bother with a shirt.
Ulrich drew Harry close, and as Harry scented his mate, he could feel Ulrich doing the same, both of them taking comfort in the closeness of the other.
“Harry...” Ulrich whispered his name, it escaping him as a small sigh. And Harry shivered a little when he felt Ulrich's prickly stubble tickle his throat as the dominant moved in to kiss it. Harry smiled a little at the light contact, which shifted to a yelp as Ulrich scooped him up bridal style. In an instant, Harry's mind was overwhelmed with memory, and the real world seemed to dissolve around him.
With strength that did not befit his stature, Remus lifted Harry easily, and Harry yelped in surprise as he clung more tightly to his partner. His legs instinctively locking around Remus's waist, his eyes wide with surprise and fright.
“Remus, put me down!” Harry's hold tightened, but Remus acted as though Harry weighed no more than a sack of flour.
“Relax Harry, I promise I won't drop you,” he grinned mischievously and began to move, which resulted in Harry clinging even more tightly to him.
“Seriously, Remus, this isn't funny, I'm heavy. Put me—” his protests were cut off by a rather passionate kiss, which Remus maintained down the hall, up the stairs, and all the way to their bedroom, where he finally let Harry down. Harry immediately sat on the end of the bed, a hand clutched over his heart while he glared at the older man.
“Never ever do that again,” Harry said while he took several breaths to steady himself, and Remus laughed softly.
“Harry,” a voice said, though to Harry's ears it sounded very far away, as though it was coming from someone who was standing at the opposite end of a very long tunnel.
“Harry,” the voice said again, “Harry, please, can you hear me?” it sounded closer this time, and deeply familiar, though Harry still could not place it.
Rough, work-worn fingers brushed Harry's cheeks, and with a shuddering gasp, the world came rushing back.
Harry blinked several times as he tried to work through his confusion. His eyelashes and cheeks felt damp, and he was lying on Ulrich's bed, though he could not recall how he had gotten there. Ulrich was hovering over him, his eyes wide with worry.
“Ulrich?” Harry asked weakly, and he saw the dominant immediately relax, “what—what happened?”
“Harry, thank the Gods,” he whispered, and bowed forward to kiss him lightly, a gesture which Harry immediately returned. “I don't know. I picked you up to carry you to bed, and you just...you went limp. At first I thought you had fainted, but your eyes were wide open, and you were staring at nothing, and you were crying. Hell, had it not been for the fact that your heart was beating, I would have thought you were dead.”
“I'm sorry,” Harry mumbled as he sat up, “I don't like being picked up, and it—it brought back memories.” Harry shivered, and his sight warped as his eyes flooded with tears again. Hissing a soft curse, he rubbed roughly at them, and prayed that Ulrich hadn't noticed.
“Bad memories?” Ulrich asked, and Harry shook his head a little.
“Not exactly, it was a good memory at one time, but now...I don't know.” Harry heaved a sigh, and raked a hand roughly through his hair. “I'm sorry, I know you were just probably trying to be suave or something, and my utterly-fucked up brain ruined it—”
Harry's apology was cut off rather suddenly when a pair of warm hands cupped his cheeks, and Ulrich pulled him in for a gentle kiss. Harry arched up and threw his arms over Ulrich's shoulders to immediately kiss him back.
“It's not your fault,” Ulrich whispered against Harry's mouth, “I'm sorry that I sparked a memory for you, but I'll know for the future to not...do that.” Ulrich pulled back a little and stroked Harry's hair, and with a gentle sigh, Harry leant into the contact.
“Come on,” Harry said softly, “let's just sleep...it's been a stressful day.”
Ulrich lay down with Harry and drew him close. He felt the soft tingle of a healing charm spiderweb over his cheek, healing the scratches that Tavish had left. Ulrich's lips replaced the tip of his wand as he kissed Harry's cheek, and Harry shifted closer into the dominant's warmth as he relaxed, and slowly fell asleep.
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