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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
- 22
- 23
- 24
A/N: The local library where I usually update is having problems with their wifi so I had to update this on mobile >.< any major formatting fuckups will be fixed at a later date.
Chapter 23 – Downfall
Harry and Caldwell wasted no time with pleasantries, but hastened to follow Ron back to his office. “What's this tip?” Harry ran to catch up with Ron, huffing a little to keep up with the ginger's long legs.
“Auror Watson got the tip, a series of photographs from an abandoned muggle factory in Glasgow. It looks like it might be their headquarters. Auror MacDonald is setting up a portkey, and Auror Smith is rounding up as many people that can be spared. We're finishing this Harry,” Harry and Ron grinned, their old mad, running straight into danger expressions crossing both their faces as they hurried towards the office.
Inside, there was a crowd of at least fifteen people, most of whom were seasoned Aurors. He and Ron were easily the youngest in the room, but age didn't matter as they had proven more than once that they could pull their own weight. Harry did not miss the few dirty looks shot his way however, most of the other Aurors still hadn't forgiven him for ensuring Greyback's release.
“Everyone! Your attention please!” A dark-skinned woman with her hair wrapped in a dark blue headscarf was standing on a chair, waving her arms to call attention to herself.
“My name is Auror Mahamari Sahir, I'm in charge of this op. We will be leaving in five minutes, so please get as close to the portkey as you can,” she motioned to a dented teakettle on the desk next to her, “those of you not touching the portkey, hold tightly onto someone who is. I'm leading this operation, and remember: we're trying to take as many alive as we can, but kill only if you have no other choice. We do not know how many bases of operations Red Moon has, this might not be the only one. We'll need the Red Moon members taken alive if we're to get any information out of them, and we'll get more information out of their mouths than gaping holes in their corpses. All right, everyone ready? In position please!”
Sahir jumped off the chair, and a tight group of eight squeezed in around the kettle. Harry, Ron, and a handful of others gripped tightly to the forearm of others in their group, so as to not be left behind. Harry felt a thrill of nervous excitement run through him as he tightened his grip on the older man next to him.
This is it, Harry thought as they waited for the portkey to activate, I can finally make the world safe for us again. For Remus. His heart swelled at the thought of the older man, and he shook his head a few times in an effort to focus. It would not do to get distracted by his personal life right now. Harry turned his head and caught Ron's eye. He grinned, and Harry nodded his head, returning the gesture just as he felt the all-too familiar sensation of a hook behind his navel, and they sped away in a whirl of colour.

~*~

Their feet slammed into tall grass, and half of the group toppled over as they landed. Harry groaned, pulling himself up and looked around to see where they were.
They were in a wide, grassy field off to the side of a deserted stretch of highway. Across from where they stood were a clutch of old, abandoned muggle factories. Grey buildings with tall, narrow chimneys, and large white numbers painted onto the sides. It was quiet; eerily quiet. The rush of wind through the field was the only sound Harry could pick out, and the dead silence was deeply unsettling.
“Everyone all right?” Sahir's voice snapped Harry from his daze, and he turned to face their appointed leader. A few groans answered her question, but she pressed on even as the other Aurors were pulling themselves to their feet.
“The tip told us that Red Moon are holed up in Number Forty-Two, that building there.” She turned and pointed to another of the nondescript factories, further back from the rest and almost completely hidden from view. “We will do this in teams of five, and close in around the three main exits to the north, south, and west. I'm in charge of team one, Potter, Weasley, Smith, Carter, you're with me,” Harry nodded once, and he approached Sahir with Ron at his side. “Caldwell, you take Palmer, Keyes, McKay, and Wynn. The rest of you with Ford. Standard Shepherd Formation. All clear? Let's go.”
Without waiting to see if her words were clear. The three groups separated, Sahir leading them across the road under a number of Disillusionment Charms and Perception Shift spells, and they headed for the back of the building. Harry knew the other two groups would head in the front and the side, boxing in the wizards they sought.
As they crossed into the forest of grey buildings, Harry felt strangely claustrophobic, as the space between one building at the next was barely wide enough to walk side-by-side with Ron. Harry had half a mind to say something to his friend, anything to break the tense silence, but he knew that that would be an incredibly stupid thing to do, especially when they were trying not to be seen.
They found the building they wanted, circled to the back. Sahir approached the door and flicked her long and narrow wand at it, muttering under her breath as she carefully broke the locking charms, while being cautious to layer new spells over top, so as to not alert Red Moon to their presence.
Once the door was unlocked, the group of five flattened themselves against the metal siding of the factory. Sahir whispered a spell, and a fox Patronus scampered away from them. Within five minutes, both a silvery heron and a monitor came towards them, disappearing as quickly as they had come. Harry knew that this was the signal that everyone was in position and ready to go.
Harry exchanged a look with Ron and they both grinned wildly. They turned and Sahir opened the door, motioning for them to follow quietly. Harry took a deep breath to steady himself and drew his wand, his hand clutching the handle so tightly his knuckles had gone white.
The inside of the building was dimly lit and awash in yellow light from the electric fixtures in the ceiling. A pair of guards were crumpled on either side of the door, stunned, bound, their wands tucked into Sahir's belt. Harry fell into step behind her, and ahead of them they could hear a number a noises that didn't seem to fit together—the hysterical, terrified screams of a woman and man, cold, cruel laughter layered over it, and a low murmur of voices that seemed completely unconcerned with the distress of the first two.
Sahir held up a hand and her little group stopped at once. She held a finger to her lips, and motioned her hand to either side of the narrow hallway they had stopped before. Understanding the silent command, the group hid out of sight of the hallway, at the same time that a loud explosion met their ears.
Screams, shouts, and loud bangs echoed through the factory, and the voice of Caldwell cried out from the hall they stood to the side of, just as two people came rushing through towards the back door. “Civilians! Let them through!” Harry lowered his wand and the two people hastened for the door, wide-eyed and limping, blood staining both of their torsos.
At the same moment, another person tore through the hall, though this time it was clearly a Red Moon grunt trying to re-capture their lost prey. He crumpled to the ground quickly and was bound as Harry cast a stunner at the same moment that Ron cast the binding spell.
The group stayed in place, cutting off the escape of the Red Moon members that panicked and tried to get away. Harry could hear the distant shouts and cries of his fellow Aurors duelling the Red Moon people, and he was itching to join them. He stepped from foot to foot impatiently, and Sahir shot him a glare that clearly said don't you dare. Harry resigned himself to staying put and knocking out the Red Moon cowards, and soon they had a nice pile of bound and unconscious bodies piled by the back door.
The sounds beyond their station had dulled to shouts of the Aurors clearly beginning to outnumber the Red Moon people, and at last Sahir motioned for them to follow her. They entered the fray.
They ran full-tilt down the narrow hallway into a large, expansive room alight with curses flying every which way. Harry leaned back just in time to avoid being hit with a bright green jet, and turned to see a large, muscled man dressed in robes a violent shade of red, his face contorted with rage. Harry couldn't help the giddy smirk that crossed his face as he shot off a curse of his own, which was deflected all-too easily. Both parties seemed to realize that they had underestimated their opponent, and the duel began with renewed ferocity.
Harry cast his spells so fast his hand was little more than a blur, his attention focused on the man he fought. He could distantly hear the cries and yells of his companions and their enemies around them, but he did not allow his attention to waver. His shield charm barely deflected a rather nasty slicing curse, and his opponent just barely managed to dodge Harry's answering stunning spell.
It was not for nothing that Harry was generally so well-regarded among the young Aurors, and it did not take long for Harry to find the opening he had been waiting for, and the large man crumpled to his knees as Harry cast a set of ropes to bind him. He did not pause, and turned to another Red Moon member, drawing their fire off Caldwell and over to him.
It seemed to not be enough, and Harry's gaze whipped back to his superior when he heard her cry out. He watched with wide-eyed horror as she went down, her face screwed up with pain as she clutched at her shoulder, deep red flooding the blue of her robes. His distraction cost him dearly, and he cried out in pain as a curse hit him squarely between his shoulders. He was lifted off his feet and flew across the room, falling in a heap and badly skinning his palms on the cement floor.
Harry sat up with a groan, his limbs shaking in shock from the attack, and he turned his gaze to Caldwell, still alive—but only just. Her hand was gripping her shoulder which was bleeding profusely, while she struggled to turn and look at him, the meaning in her eyes clear. Finish this. A lump in his throat, Harry stood and turned, just in time to see another overlarge man in red, grinning toothily at him. This one, however, Harry recognized all too well.
Taggert.
“The werewolf's famous whore is all mine!” Taggert snarled as he tore toward Harry. The barb at Remus made Harry see red, and he shot a curse at the leering man. Taggert was stronger than the others he'd faced thus far, his eyes were blazing with hatred, as though Harry's mere presence was of personal insult to him. He deflected Harry's curse with ease, and shot a bone-shattering curse at Harry. This time Harry was not as lucky, and the violet light hit its target.
Harry cried out in pain as the curse hit his left shin and he fell to one knee. Despite the near-unbearable pain, Harry refused to take his eyes off his opponent. In his peripheral vision he could see that most of his comrades had stopped fighting, and had encircled Harry and Taggert. Had they won? Was Taggert the last? He didn't dare allow his mind to wander too far, and watched as Taggert approached, grinning in a way that told Harry that he thought he'd won. Harry narrowed his eyes at the man, and before he had a chance to speak, Harry shot off one well-aimed disarming spell. The man was knocked back in his surprise as his wand spun through the air, which Ron leapt up and caught.
“Incarcerous!” Harry cried, and the man roared angrily as tight ropes encircled him. Taggert wobbled for a moment, then fell heavily to his knees.

Silence fell. Harry finally looked around him, and saw his colleagues and partners standing around him in a semicircle a little worse for wear, covered in cuts, bruises, and dust, with some of them leaning on one another to stay standing. Harry felt his throat close when he saw that Caldwell was not one of them.
Red Moon had fallen. Its members lay dead, unconscious, or bound around them. Harry turned his gaze back to Taggert, and began to pull himself to his feet, which was rather difficult, given that his left shin was utterly useless. Ron rushed over to help him, and Harry kept his wand trained on the so-called fearless leader while he leant on his friend to stay standing.
“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Harry said with the ghost of a smile on his lips. He wanted to jump and whoop, but now wasn't the time. Not all of them had made it out of this battle unscathed, and Harry would not feel safe until this poor excuse for a man was locked away.
“This isn't the end,” Taggert growled, ignoring Harry's baited words, “Red Moon will rise again and rid our world of the Lycanthropic plague once and for all!”
“Looks like the end from where I'm standing,” Harry observed, but instead of the words despairing the captured head, or angering him further, he laughed.
“The werewolf slut thinks he's won, that's adorable,” Taggert purred, while Harry narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. What was he up to? Taggert's lack of despair at being caught was deeply unsettling.

“Underestimating us will be your downfall,” Taggert growled, then cried out, “Traiectus tempus atmosphera pari!”
The very air around them seemed to bend, and several of Harry's colleagues cried out in surprise when a white flash like a sudden bolt of lightning engulfed the room for barely a split second. Taggert disappeared, leaving behind only a pile of scorched rope.
“What the hell was that?” Harry turned wide-eyed to Sahir, who had been standing a few feet from him, her face and robes smudged with dust and grime, but she appeared otherwise unharmed.
“Emergency atmospheric shift,” she replied with an angry hiss, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed. “It's an extreme form of Apparition. Instead of forcing your entire being as a whole from one place to another, you're deconstructed to your base elements, and reformed instantly somewhere else. It's incredibly dangerous, and banned by the Ministry because of how badly wrong it can go. I had no idea Taggert had mastered it, otherwise I would have been more thorough with my Anti-Apparition wards around this place. Now's not the time to discuss it though, we need to get some of you to St Mungo's, and we need to have Magical Law Enforcement come to collect the scum.” Harry was rather grateful that she wasn't planning on an in-depth discussion, given that with his adrenaline slipping away from him, his leg was really starting to hurt.
Sahir turned from them and began to fire off a few more talking fox Patronuses, while Harry felt Ron give his shoulders a gentle squeeze.
“We made it, we did it,” Ron said with a smile. Harry's gaze strayed to where Caldwell still lay.
“Not all of us.”
~*~

Harry was never keen on how sterile hospitals always smelled.
It didn't matter if it was a magical hospital or a muggle one, they always smelled the same. At least the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts had always been devoid of that particular odour. Unfortunately, there was no way for Harry to justifiably ask at nearly age twenty-two to go back to his old school to recuperate.
As a result, Harry found himself occupying one of the hospital beds at St Mungo's, with his leg elevated in some sort of sling. His calf and foot had swollen and changed to a delightful shade of purple by the time he'd been seen, and he had been in quite a lot of pain—even for him.
On his side table rested an empty smoking goblet, and the potion he'd taken was working to rearrange the bones in his shin back into the right order. It was only after this potion had done its job that he would be allowed to destroy his œsophagus with a healthy dose of Skele-Gro.
Harry was sharing the room he currently occupied with three of his fellow Aurors, none of them seriously injured, but badly hurt enough to warrant an overnight stay at the hospital. Ron had been more or less unhurt, and he had promised to let Remus and Hermione know what had happened. His roommates were all asleep, dosed up with Dreamless Sleep and a number of healing draughts, and Harry found the silence and his lack of mobility painfully boring.

A soft knock on the door snapped Harry from his daze and he looked up, his mouth splitting into a wide grin. Remus stood there uncertainly, with Ron's flaming hair just visible behind him. The sight of his partner filled him with a swell of joy, especially considering what he'd just done for him—the world was safe again for Remus—Taggert's unfortunate escape notwithstanding.
“Hey,” Harry said as he tried to sit up further, but it did nothing but aggravate his leg, and he fell back onto his pillows with a grimace. At his show of pain Remus hurried in, conjured a chair and sat down at Harry's side, smiling weakly. Harry couldn't tell if it was worry or joy he was seeing on his partner's face, but he liked to think that it was probably a combination of the two.
Harry reached out just as Remus did the same, and their fingers laced together. Harry felt almost as though some great weight had been lifted from him with that simple gesture, and as Remus carded his fingers through Harry's hair with his free hand, Harry's eyes fluttered shut at the contact. Remus pressed a kiss to Harry's temple, while Harry squeezed the older man's hand reassuringly.
“I'm okay,” Harry said softly as he opened his eyes, looking up into the worried gaze of his partner. “I'll be out of here tomorrow, good as new.”
“Er—” both Harry and Remus's gazes snapped up, having entirely forgotten Ron's presence for a moment. He looked rather embarrassed at witnessing a show of affection between them, the evidence for that in how his flush had crept past his ears, and was colouring his cheeks. Harry smiled weakly, too worn out to be properly embarrassed.
“I'll be outside, if you need anything,” Ron said quickly, and Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing at his friend's continued embarrassment.
“Yeah, thanks Ron,” Harry grinned, and watched as his best mate went—if possible—even redder. He hurried out of the ward without another word.
The moment the door snapped shut, Harry refocused his gaze of Remus. His smile relaxed from an exaggerated grin of amusement to one of peaceful calm, the older man's free hand still stroking his hair in a repetitive, soothing touch.
“If you keep doing that,” Harry said, his voice barely above a mumble, “I'm gonna fall asleep.” Harry's eyes fluttered shut to illustrate his point and Remus chuckled softly in response. Harry heard the chair squeak against the floor minutely as Remus shifted to press a light kiss to his lips. Harry reached up with his free hand and gripped the back of Remus's neck, holding him there for a moment longer than the chaste kiss his partner had probably planned.
“Keep kissing me like that and I won't be able to give you any of the rest you need,” Remus murmured the words softly, as though concerned that his roommates might hear him, and Harry snickered. He released his neck reluctantly and slumped back onto the pillows, but held fast to Remus's hand. “Why don't you tell me about your big battle,” his free hand returned to running through Harry's hair, and Harry closed his eyes with a contented sigh.
With his eyes still shut, he told Remus what had happened, from the random anonymous tip to their trip to Glasgow and the onslaught of Red Moon. Harry felt initially that there wasn't much to tell, but before he knew it he had been speaking for a solid quarter of an hour, his words becoming steadily more slurred as the hand in his hair relaxed him into a sleepy state.
“It sounds like you had quite the adventure,” Remus mused as Harry finished, and he nodded his head.
“We still don't know who even sent the tip, and we still need to find Taggert,” Harry mumbled, turning his head to the side to stifle a wide yawn. He opened his bleary eyes to his partner, who looked pleasantly amused. “It was a big mistake to underestimate him; he's really dangerous.”
“Don't worry yourself about that now,” Remus reached out and removed Harry's glasses. He allowed it, watching the blur of his partner setting his glasses aside on his night table. “Rest, and when you're back on your feet you can worry about Taggert,” Harry nodded, and squeezed Remus's hand lightly.
“Stay with me?” Harry asked, and Remus's large hand tightened over his own.
“Always.”

~*~

Harry yelped, toppling back as he and Remus landed on the top step of Grimmauld Place. Remus's arm shot out at once to catch him, and Harry felt his face go a little red in embarrassment at his own clumsiness.
“Come on,” Remus said with an amused grin, “let's get you inside.”
Still slightly red-faced, Harry allowed himself to be escorted inside, his gait still a little more stiff than he was used to.
“I don't see why I have to be off work for the rest of the week,” Harry grumbled, pulling off his cloak and hanging it up as they crossed the threshold.
“You didn't just break your leg Harry,” Remus said patiently, as though he hadn't pointed this fact out to him for what was likely the hundredth time, “the bone was shattered. You need to rest, not go running off after more dark wizards the second you're discharged from hospital.” Remus pushed him down onto the sofa and elevated his leg, and Harry struggled to keep from rolling his eyes. Remus glowered at Harry, as though daring him to complain.
“I'll rest,” Harry conceded at last, “on the condition that you stop mothering me. I'm fine,” Harry said, reaching up to grab Remus's wrist as the older man turned towards the kitchen. “I'd appreciate you keeping me company, though,” he said while he gave the limb a gentle tug. Remus smiled a little as he allowed himself to be pulled down next to Harry.
Harry shifted a little to get comfortable, and moved to rest his head on Remus's shoulder. The older man's hand lifted immediately to toy with the flyaway tufts at the nape of Harry's neck. Harry shivered a little, the light touches tickling his skin, while he draped an arm casually across Remus's midsection.
“We need to talk about this weekend,” Harry said, staring at Remus's cardigan while he tugged at the loose threads absently. Remus closed his hand over Harry's to stop him picking at it.
“What's this weekend?” He asked, while Harry looked up to see if he'd actually forgotten, or if he was playing. From his confused expression, it seemed to be the former.
“My birthday. Ron invited us over so that Molly can overfeed me to the exploding point, remember?” Harry watched the cogs click into place in Remus's head, telling him that the man suddenly recalled what Harry had told him more than a week earlier.
“Ah yes, twenty-two. That reminds me, I need to get you a birthday gift,” Remus said, chuckling when Harry felt himself go red.
“You don't have to get me anything...” Harry began, but his words were cut short by a feather-light kiss.
“Nonsense. It's not every day that a young man turns twenty-two, and you deserve some good fun, especially after all you've been through these last ten months,” Remus practically purred the words, a hand stroking the back of Harry's neck while he spoke softly. Harry struggled to swallow a moan of longing. He knew for a fact that Remus would be too worried about his leg to try engaging Harry in any sort of strenuous activity.
“Just...don't go out of your way Remus, I really don't need anything, okay?” Harry looked back down to the warm hand that covered his own, and he felt a fluttering in his chest. A number of terribly cheesy sentiments fluttered to the forefront of his mind, chief among them all I need is you, but he couldn't bring himself to say it.
“I'm bringing it up,” Harry continued while he strove to quash his embarrassment at his silly, romantic thoughts, “because, well, I know the bond is settled and everything,” Harry faltered for a moment, his tone a little apprehensive, “but you still get a little...grabby, at times.” Harry kept his eyes down to avoid the confused and mildly hurt look that was boring into the side of his head. “I just don't want to throw it in Ginny's face. I mean, she has a new boyfriend now, but I still don't want to rub her nose in it, you know?” Harry grimaced at the implication, and Remus's hands on him tensed a little.
“I understand, and don't think it will be a problem,” he said at last. Harry could hear the slight sadness in his tone, and he squirmed guiltily. Remus shifted, grabbing Harry's chin gently to his head up a little, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. As they broke apart Remus murmured softly, “I will endeavour to keep my hands off you."
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Lunaticus Book One: Half Moon