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Lunaticus Book Two: Moonstruck	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Remus Views: 5775 -:- 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
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter Two – Somnambulist

They arrived home with Harry's mind still stuck on the looks the Weasleys—his family had directed at him throughout the day, save for Ginny, Ron, and (at last) Hermione.

Remus opened the door and ushered Harry inside, and he blindly followed his partner's lead to the sitting room, who forced him down onto the sofa and pressed a hot cup of tea into his hands.

Harry stared down into the cup's contents, but merely saw his face—his miserable face—reflected back at him. Their disapproving looks towards his relationship with Remus had never bothered him so much before. Why now?

A gentle hand on his thigh drew Harry from his morose thoughts, and he looked up at Remus with a frown. He continued to clutch onto the tea he'd been given, but he didn't drink it.

“I know it's hard Harry,” Remus said softly, moving his hand to card through Harry's thick hair, “I have had a lifetime to grow used to rejection of this kind. By association, you are now experiencing it too. I wish I could say something to reassure you, but you mustn't let it get to you. They will come around in their own time, or they will not.”

“That's what Ginny said,” Harry muttered, looking down from Remus and back to his cup. “It's hard though. They're my family, I wish they could...” he trailed off and sighed heavily.

“You want recognition of our relationship, like what Ron and Hermione received at the announcement of their engagement,” Remus said, and Harry nodded silently.

“I just...I hate that every little thing we do together is looked at under a fucking microscope,” Harry said, quickly putting the cup on the coffee table when his hands began to shake. “It's not fair. It's not like...like a normal marriage, we have different rules to play by. Why can't they understand that?”

“Ignorance, unwillingness to learn—our age gap likely plays a part as well,” Remus said patiently. This wasn't the first time they'd had this discussion, and it likely wouldn't be the last. The older man's hand moved from his hair to his cheek, and he gently coaxed Harry's gaze back up to him, and he brushed his lips over Harry's. His eyes slid shut as he returned the kiss, Harry's arms reaching up to wrap around Remus's neck.

“I love you,” Harry murmured, “why can't they see that?” To Harry's question, Remus smiled sadly.

“Most likely because they don't want to.”

Harry had no idea what to say to that, and instead chose to settle into Remus's embrace, and they sat in contemplative silence until Harry wandered up to bed, with Remus following suit not long after.

—Harry halted at the side of a babbling brook, and howled. The responding wolf was close, he could sense it; feel it in his very bones. Harry backed up several paces and leapt over the narrow body of water, landing heavily on the other side before breaking into a run again.

He needn't search long for his companion. A larger wolf than he, one with amber eyes and tawny fur appeared out of the shadows and stepped directly into his path. Harry slowed to a halt and approached the larger creature, bumping his head against the creature's chin affectionately as Harry greeted his dominant mate.

Moony growled his approval, nudging his submissive gently, and Harry willingly tumbled onto his back and exposed his throat and belly to him. Moony's jaws closed briefly over Harry's throat; his bite not even hard enough to bruise before he released him, and allowed Harry to get up before he nudged him hard towards the depths of—

“Harry.”

A voice cut across the dream, and the forest dissolved as Harry was dragged back to the waking world.

“Are you awake?” Remus asked softly. His fingertips were trailing up and down Harry's side, starting at his hip, snaking up and across his ribs to stop just below his armpit, then back down again. Harry stretched, but when his eyes flickered open he was surprised to see that it was still dark outside.

“I am now,” he mumbled groggily, turning his head a little to face his partner. “Everything okay?” Harry reached blindly for his glasses on the night table, and pulled them on. Remus came into focus, and Harry felt his heart jump in his throat at the troubled look he saw upon his face.

“I...” Remus began, and trailed off. Harry swallowed nervously, but did not interrupt as he waited for him to speak. The hand moved to the back of Harry's neck, caressing his nape gently, as though he wanted to commit each curve and line of Harry's body to memory.

“I've just been thinking about things,” Remus said, and Harry tensed a little before he had the good sense to stop himself. It did not take a genius to work out that by things Remus meant the invitation. Despite his outright refusal when he'd first gotten it, all signs pointed towards the fact that it still weighed heavily upon his mind.

Remus wrapped both arms around Harry's middle and pulled him close, while he buried his face in the hollow of Harry's throat and inhaled deeply, and Harry shivered a little under the sensation. He'd grown used to it, but there was still a distinct strangeness in someone finding such comfort in something as simple as scent.

“I'm not going to leave you, Harry,” Remus's whisper was hoarse, but forceful, “I won't leave you.”

“I know you aren't Remus,” Harry said softly, his voice still a little groggy from his abrupt waking. He shifted a little and kissed him gently. Despite his words, Harry was doubtful of his sentiment, though he couldn't completely articulate why. The absolute anguish he saw on Remus's face was enough to tell him that he was still painfully torn by the temptation to accept the invitation, and Harry hated himself for wishing that Remus would just forget about it.

Remus wouldn't leave him, Harry reasoned as the older man clutched tightly to him; Remus couldn't leave him. The bond wouldn't permit him to; he was just being paranoid, it was nothing more.

Harry wished that he could believe it.

~*~

The passing weeks were tense, though neither Harry nor Remus were keen to discuss why. It was clear after their awkward half-conversation the night following Hermione and Ron's announcement that the invitation was still tempting Remus.

Harry was still convinced that something terrible was about to happen, though he could figure out if it was related to his bizarre dreams, or his ever-present fear that Remus was going to leave him. At the same time, Remus seemed to be doing everything in his power to not think about the invitation. Harry had never even been shown what the letter itself had said, and somehow it felt wrong to ask Remus to see it—like an invasion of privacy. Remus had never shown much interest in associating with his own kind more than he had to, but clearly something in the letter had changed his mind.

Harry's weekends were spent with Remus and his friends alternately, and his weekdays back to work. He was doing what he could to help Remus find work, and as a result it had given him little opportunity to sit down and ponder what exactly could have caused Remus's panicked reaction to the letter. Was it a threat? A bribe? Some sort of werewolf ultimatum, 'Join us or else'? As with every other time the thought had fluttered to the surface of his mind, he felt a thrill of panic rush through him.

Harry was determined to not let his own feelings sway Remus's decision one way or the other. More than once, he had been close to breaking down and begging him to reject the invitation outright and just stay, but he couldn't bring himself to be so selfish. It left both men feeling anxious and miserable, and almost every night they tried to mend their problems with sex.

Tonight was no different, and Remus took him to bed in a blind haze of arousal, unaided by the moon as he prepared and took Harry, their mutual grunts of pleasure filling the silence. As Remus began to approach orgasm however, something changed.

Teeth.

Harry's breath hitched as Remus's teeth sunk into the flesh of his shoulder, not quite hard enough to break the skin, but almost. It was not a quick bite, but drawn out as he raked his teeth across the spot, as though determined to ensure that it would bruise. Harry let out a small yelp of pain as Remus's hot seed filled him, and the pain eclipsed the pleasure so much that Harry's erection died without ever finding his own release.

“Harry?” Remus asked, his voice heavy and dazed. “What—” he broke off suddenly and Harry flinched and hissed in pain as his fingers brushed over the raised patch of skin. “Oh, God, did I do that?” The absolute anguish and confusion in his voice told Harry that he was likely not joking around, and seemed genuinely disturbed to have done such a thing. He pulled Harry close, and brushed a kiss to the skin close to, but not upon it.

“I'm so sorry Harry,” Remus whispered in a broken tone of voice, “I didn't—I had no idea I was doing that, I'm so sorry...” His words dissolved into nonsensical mutters, and Harry turned over to face him, and pulled Remus into his arms. He held him quietly, utterly at a loss for how to console his partner. Remus clutched at him until he fell asleep, and Harry shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position that would not aggravate the injury.

What just happened? Harry wondered while he stared through the darkness of their room to the glowing bedroom window. He was used to love bites, but this went well beyond anything Remus had ever done to him before. Something had changed, and Harry felt at a loss for how to figure out exactly what had caused such a strange and painful reaction. He rested his chin against the top of Remus's head, his mind momentarily eased by the scent and presence of his partner, and slowly he fell asleep.

Perhaps, Harry thought as he drifted off, it was just a fluke werewolf thing. I doubt that it'll happen again.

Two weeks later, Harry found himself seated in Café Noisette, nursing a cup of black coffee and picking at a croissant while watched the door intently. Harry had only just begun to relax when a rather harassed-looking Hermione Granger stepped inside, nodded to Harry once and hurried to the counter. She joined him a moment later with some sort of chocolate and whipped cream monstrosity that at one time could have been a coffee, and an obscenely large muffin.

“Now Harry, what is this about? You said in your letter that something was going on between you and Remus, but you couldn't talk to him about it?” She looked both worried and annoyed at once, not that Harry could blame her. Her schedule was likely loaded to the breaking point already, but there was only so much he could discuss with Ron about him and Remus before he would start to get uncomfortable when Harry needed to go into detail. Hermione was at least a little more well-versed in the bond from the research she had done on his behalf, and was better equipped to regard Harry's personal life through a clinical, academic eye.

Harry sipped his coffee to delay answering as he tried to work out how to say what he needed to say. In the end, he decided that show and tell might be the best course of action. He cast a quick glance around the near-dead cafe, turned in his seat and bent his arm around his back to pull down the collar of his T-shirt to show her the nape of his neck and shoulders, which he knew displayed a number of teeth marks in varying shades of red and purple. He heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath and he allowed the shirt to snap back into place and he turned back to face her. She was very white, and her eyes were wide with shock and fright. “Oh Harry. Remus did that to you?”

“I don't think he meant to,” Harry murmured with a frown, not wanting to misspeak and give her the wrong idea. “Whenever he did it, right after he reacted as though he had no idea where the marks came from. I just...I don't know what it means.” Harry paused to sip his coffee before he continued, “and there's other, er, stuff too, but I don't know if it's connected or not.”

“What other stuff?” She asked. Hermione's eyes were still very wide, and her voice was barely above a frightened whisper. Harry hesitated for a moment, and looked away from her to cram the croissant into his mouth, taking an overlarge bite as he thought how to answer.

“I've been having these dreams...Almost every night,” Harry said after he swallowed, “It's like...It feels like those dreams I had when Voldemort was in my mind, but they...I dunno, they don't feel evil.” Harry breathed slowly as the familiar panic he'd been privy to so often of late began to bubble to the surface of his mind. What if they were evil? He hadn't needed Occlumency for ages, would he still be able to do it, if he needed to? He shook himself out of the train of thought; now wasn't the time to worry about that, at least not yet.

“What are they about?” Hermione asked, aiming for nonchalant as she sipped her drink, but her wide, frightened eyes ruined the attempt rather spectacularly.

“It's weird. They're about, well, me and Remus. Out in a forest on a full moon...” Harry hesitated for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek nervously, “and we're both werewolves.” Harry looked up at Hermione, but her expression was still unnervingly blank. “I know it could be just that—dreams, but, I dunno. They don't feel like they're just dreams. I just wish I knew what they meant.”

“How long have you been having them?” Hermione asked, and Harry was amazed at the remarkable calm of her voice, though her eyes told a different story; it was clear she was just as alarmed by this as he was.

“For a few months, I can't really remember when they started,” Harry said, dropping his gaze from his friend to stare into his cup. “At first, I just figured it was a normal dream. But when I started having them almost nightly, I started to get a little worried.” Harry swallowed, his hold on the cup tightening slightly. “I'm...I'm afraid to talk to Remus about it. Things have been weird since your announcement, and I'm worried that if I tell him about this he'll panic and do something drastic like take off.” Harry felt a familiar burning behind his eyes, and he quickly busied himself with his cup to hide it.

“It could be connected,” Hermione said thoughtfully, “you of all people would know the difference between a normal dream and a dream that might be prophetic. I'll try to look into it, but, Harry, I really do think you should talk to Remus about this. It's not healthy to let things...y'know, fester.”

“I know,” Harry mumbled as he sighed heavily. He bit back the question he wanted to blurt out, but he knew that Hermione would likely respond with patient reassurance—or impatient frustration—if he asked her again, What if he leaves me? Harry wished he could articulate why the worry was always so close to the surface of his mind of late; he'd never been this paranoid with Ginny or Cho. He couldn't understand why with Remus everything was always so different.

“I'll...I'll try,” he said at last, and Hermione smiled at him warmly.

~*~

Harry stepped inside that evening feeling no more confident about talking with Remus than he had when Hermione had pressed him to. He still couldn't quite explain his reluctance; they were only dreams after all, they were definitely not visions, of that Harry was certain.

At least, I hope they're not, Harry thought as he pulled his cloak off and hung it up.

Harry was so wrapped up in his troubled thoughts that it took him a moment to realize that something was different, though at first he couldn't place exactly what it was. He turned his back on the cloak hanger and wandered through the main level, realizing with a jolt in his stomach that Remus was nowhere to be found.

Oh God, oh God...Harry thought in a panic, skidding to a halt in the kitchen when he caught sight of a piece of parchment on the scrubbed table with his name hastily scrawled across it.

Harry,

Job interview, be back soon.

x

Harry let out a breath as he relaxed, and smiled at the little paper. He folded it up and tucked it into his pocket, deciding that for now at least he would hold off telling Remus about the dreams. He deserved a normal life as much as Harry did, especially after the insanity they'd been through together over the last year and a half.

He made himself a tea, and brought it with him to the back porch, where Harry watched the sun's slow descent towards the west while he sipped on the drink. If Remus was at a job interview, clearly he was serious about staying and not disappearing with Greyback, and Harry felt some of his paranoia leave him while he wondered idly what the job interview might be for.

It was a little past twilight by the time Remus returned, wearing his best robes (albeit a little ashen from the Floo trip) and a broad smile on his face.

“You did it,” Harry said at once with a grin, standing up from his spot on the sofa.

“I did,” Remus replied, practically glowing with happiness.

Harry all but threw himself at the older man in a hard kiss. Remus's arm immediately wrapped around Harry's waist to hold him for a moment longer, before Harry pulled back a little, but stayed in the embrace.

“I'm so proud of you Remus,” Harry said, “tell me, what's the job? Your note didn't say.”

Harry turned and ushered him further inside while Remus dispelled the ash from his robes, and sat across from Harry on the sofa. He lifted his wand, but Harry held up his hand to stop him.

“Hang on, we need something a little more celebratory,” Harry said, and with a flick of his wand he summoned a bottle of wine and two glasses.

As Harry released the cork and set the bottle down to breathe, he heard Remus chuckle with amusement at him.

“Harry this really isn't necessary...” he began, but Harry was quick to cut him off.

“Shut up, yes it is,” Harry said with a grin, “and I'm gonna thrust celebration upon you if I have to.”

“Aren't I the one normally doing the thrusting?” Remus asked mildly, arching a brow, and Harry snorted.

“I walked right into that one, didn't I?”

“A bit, yeah.”

Still grinning a little, Harry poured out the wine and handed Remus a glass.

“Now tell me, what's the job?” Harry prompted, easing back into the sofa while Remus took a sip of the proffered wine, and mirrored Harry's stature, while he reached out to rest a hand on the top of Harry's thigh casually.

“I was offered a position in the new Werewolf Liaisons Department,” Remus said, his eyes straying from Harry to the glass in his hand, and twirled it absently with a thoughtful look on his face. Harry blinked in confusion at the sudden departure from his joy at acquiring the job to a strange, gentle calm.

“You don't seem exactly thrilled about it,” Harry observed as he moved a little closer to him.

“I am,” Remus replied, shifting his gaze from his wine and back to Harry, “it's nice to feel as though you're part of the world again and not...detached from it. I just wonder if the only attribute that they care for is the fact that I am a werewolf.”

Harry did not speak for a moment, but merely looked up at Remus with a sad smile. He reached out and brushed his fingers over Remus's cheek, enjoying the way his sparse stubble tickled his fingers, then leant in for a gentle kiss.

“You're brilliant, Remus,” Harry said, “I'm sure having an...erm, insider's perspective definitely helped, but you're selling yourself short. You're one of the most well-read, intelligent people I know. You earned this just like anyone else.”

Remus abandoned his wine in favour of kissing Harry, and Harry was all too happy to oblige him.

Harry would have liked to continue. The way Remus shifted to bear down on him was thrilling, but his stomach—of all things—sought to interrupt them when it suddenly filled the silence with a rather loud gurgle, and Harry turned very red.

“Hungry are we?” Remus murmured, tickling Harry's damp mouth with his breath.

“I was waiting for you to come home before I ate,” Harry mumbled, looking away as he tried to reign in his blush, but it did little to help.

“Let's eat, then we can celebrate properly,” Remus said with one of his usual placid smiles. He helped Harry to his feet and wrapped an arm around his waist as he escorted Harry to the dining room, flicking his wand to make the wine and glasses follow them out.

~*~

After Remus had changed his clothes and sat down with Harry to eat, both he and Harry made no secret about what they'd rather be doing at that moment. Harry extended his leg to hook his foot around Remus's ankle, picking at, rather than eating the stew in front of him. Remus's eyes seemed to glow with his lust as he looked up at Harry with a soft, amused chuckle, but did nothing more than watch Harry like prey. He forced his gaze from Remus to the wide, shallow bowl in front of him, and forced himself to eat.

Over individual bowls of sorbet, Harry caught sight of a mischievous glint in Remus's eye, and he abandoned the partially-eaten treat to stand and grin at his partner.

“We had the wine already, I think now we should celebrate properly...awk!”

Before Harry knew what was happening, Remus circled the table and scooped him up bridal-style before he could stop him, and in a panic Harry quickly wrapped his arms around Remus's neck.

“Remus, put me down!” Harry yelled, while with a wicked grin that Harry was certain Remus had learned from his godfather, he ignored Harry's protests and instead carried him upstairs.

Harry clung tightly to his partner, very much not liking the way he bounced and jostled in his arms, but afraid to squirm too much and cause Remus to drop him. Once they reached their room, Remus dropped Harry gracelessly onto the bed. Harry sat up with a glare, though the corner of his mouth was twitching a little as he tried to stifle a smile.

“When are you gonna get it through your thick skull that I don't like it when you carry me like that?” he demanded.

Remus ignored the question, and instead crawled onto the bed, boxing Harry in with his arms while he kissed him deeply.

“As I recall, that's the first time I ever carried you like that...” Remus replied in a low murmur as he grinned, while Harry swatted his chest lightly.

“You know what I mean. It freaks me out; I like my brains in my head, not splattered across the entryway.”

“I wouldn't drop you, you know,” Remus said in the same bland tone for what was likely the hundredth time. He moved one of his hands from the bedspread to slip under Harry's shirt and peeled it away from his abdomen slowly, while he continued to grin at Harry's clear annoyance.

“Famous last words,” Harry muttered as he lifted his arms over his head to aid Remus in ridding himself of the obstructive garment. “If you do it again I swear I'll hex you.” Harry reached out and began to thumb open the buttons on Remus's thin, chocolate brown shirt as he spoke, and the older man merely smiled in response.

“Would you, though?” Remus asked as he cocked a brow. He rotated his shoulders as he shrugged out of the shirt, and his lips descended upon the hollow of Harry's throat and he dragged his tongue down to his sternum and across to his clavicle, eliciting a soft gasp from the younger man.

“If you knock it off and stop carrying me places, you won't have to find out,” Harry mumbled, and tilted his head back as Remus's mouth turned its attentions to his right nipple. “And I know some pretty effective ones from working with the Aurors...”

“I'm sure you do, but I used an Unforgivable Curse on my lover because he wouldn't stop carrying me to bed probably wouldn't hold up in a Wizengamot trial,” Remus quipped, pausing his ministrations on Harry momentarily to voice the comment. Harry snorted, but the vocalization shifted quickly to a moan as Remus's talented hands trailed down his front and towards the buttons at the top of his jeans.

“Who said anything about Unforgivables?” Harry asked, his voice taking on a rather breathy quality as he arched his hips into Remus's hands. “There's was this one curse this woman was using on her husband to keep him in line, where she cursed his bits off and kept them in a jam jar until he did what she wanted...oh.” Harry's breath hitched as the heel of Remus's hand pressed into his clothed half-hard cock, effectively turning his brain to jelly.

“Somehow I doubt you'd be able to hold out long enough to follow through with that threat.”

“Speak for yourself,” Harry said with a snort, and grinned up at his partner. “A virile young man and a werewolf together...It's amazing we manage to leave the bedroom long enough to carry on with our normal lives.” Harry hissed sharply, his head tilting back into the duvet as Remus's hand slipped past the elastic of his pants and closed around Harry's half-hard cock.

Harry fell back bonelessly onto the bed, his arms splayed at his sides in a lazy spread-eagle position, his breath coming out in shallow gasps as his eyes slid shut. He heard the low rumble of a chuckle from Remus somewhere above him, while he worked Harry's jeans and pants off one-handed, the other still securely coiled around his cock. He let Harry go abruptly, and Harry jerked his hips feebly with a pleading whimper, but the vocalization was met only with an amused chuckle.

Harry heard a distinct rustle above him, and he opened his eyes to see Remus wiggling out of his tan corduroys, his erection jutting out prominently from his body. The sight of it drew Harry's gaze, and he felt his mouth pull into a grin. Remus smirked in a very non-Remus sort of way, and crawled up to join Harry on the bed. He reached out to relieve Harry of his glasses and set them aside, then braced his hands on either side of Harry's head as he leaned in for a demanding kiss.

Moaning feebly, Harry arched his back a little and draped his arms around Remus's shoulders lazily while he parted his lips, and at once Remus's tongue sought out his. They tangled together into a messy, open-mouthed kiss, while Remus balanced on one hand, the other trailing down Harry's chest and towards his groin.

Remus stopped just short of the dark thatch of hairs that preceded Harry's weeping cock, and he groaned in protest. Remus broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against Harry's, his fingers idly threading through the dark body hair while he regarded his partner.

“Would you protest to skipping the theatrics tonight?” Remus asked, his tone husky, and Harry smirked.

“When have I ever complained about going to bed with you?” He asked, and Remus smiled as he rested a hand on Harry's hip at his words, gently coaxing him onto his stomach. Harry complied easily, pillowing his head upon his arms as he lifted his arse into the air invitingly. Harry smiled at the soft sound of Remus's amused chuckle above him, and shivered a moment later when he felt cool, slick fingers trace the cleft of his arse. Even after so many months together, Harry was still amazed how at one time this very act had instilled nothing short of terror in him, and now he could hardly get enough of it. Harry chewed on his bottom lip, and buried his face in his upper arm as the two fingers slid into him, and he groaned softly.

Remus took his time preparing Harry, moving his fingers in and out of him with smooth, steady strokes, while scissoring them with every alternate thrust. Each motion brought another moan from Harry, his fingers twisting in the fabric of the duvet as he breathed shallowly and sweat dotted his forehead. At long last, Remus removed his fingers from Harry and lined himself up with his hole, and slid in smoothly.

Harry groaned and pressed back into his partner as they moulded together, Remus's front at Harry's back. His eyes were screwed shut as Remus moved to press his forehead into Harry's shoulder blade, and a soft groan escaped him as he froze his movements to give Harry a moment to acclimate to his size. His mouth so close to Harry's nape and shoulder blades made him tense momentarily, expecting another strange bite, but Remus did not seem to be aware of the physical reaction.

Slowly Remus began to move, hot breaths ghosting against the flesh of Harry's back while Harry responded in kind; sharp gasps escaping him with every thrust, while he moved in time with his partner. Remus curled forward and sank his teeth into back of Harry's shoulder as he'd done so many times in the recent past. Harry reared his head back in pain; and while the bite once more did not break the skin, it was still as alarming as it had been the first time it happened. Remus's teeth raked across his flesh, from its spot and down across Harry's shoulder blade, leaving angry red welts in their wake. Pained tears stung the corners of his eyes as he drew in a shuddering breath, but Remus seemed to be too lost in the haze of sensation to notice it.

The speed of Remus's thrusts picked up, and Harry's hand moved instinctively to his own cock. He jerked himself in time with Remus's erratic movements, until with a chorus of blissful groans escaped the pair and they came, one after the other.

Breathing deeply, Remus slumped lightly against Harry's back, stopping just short of his full weight collapsing on top of him. He wrapped an arm loosely around Harry's waist as he rolled onto his side, dragging Harry with him. Harry settled into the embrace, and he felt his stomach knot as he heard Remus hiss a soft curse, clearly catching sight of the new injury. Harry flinched when his fingers brushed over it, and the arm around him tensed slightly.

“I'm so sorry Harry,” he whispered sadly, his voice thick with fatigue, “I don't know why I keep doing this to you...So sorry...” Despite Remus's regret at his actions, sleep was quick to take him, and Harry curled himself more securely into his lover's arms, his now-familiar feeling of impending doom washing over him like a tidal wave.

Despite his desperate wishes that he was worrying over nothing, Harry was certain that whatever this was, it was only the beginning. He rolled over and burrowed himself into Remus's arms, and prayed that he was wrong.
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Lunaticus Book Two: Moonstruck