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Lunaticus Book Three: New Moon Rising	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Remus Views: 12595 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
- 22
- 23
- 24
Chapter Twenty-Three – Confessional
Harry wove through his students, watching as they charmed various stuffed toys to tap-dance across an expanse of about five feet, before their partner took a turn. He would pause occasionally to correct a wand movement or incantation pronunciation, but on the whole, his pupils were making remarkable progress, and it brought a small, proud smile to his face.

As Harry moved, he reflected on the past weeks within the territory, and struggled to keep his expression neutral as he did so.

Things had gone back to normal—no more rogues, no more Ministry grunts, no more traitors in their ranks. Harry visited occasionally with Hermione and Ron as they began to make steady progress in their plans for their wedding, he spent time with Ulrich, and life as they knew it seemed to finally be righting itself.

Or so it seemed.

Harry kept his misery sealed tightly under lock and key, and felt a fresh surge of guilt envelop him every time he thought on why he didn't feel happier with his life.

He missed Remus.

Terribly.

It was like a constant ache in the pit of his stomach that refused to go away, and Harry hated it.

It was quite clear that Remus was not the man he had been when they had been together—both from his short interactions with him during the chaos of Greyback's sudden arrest, and the tidbits of information that had been shared with him from Ginny, who seemed to have befriended him in Harry's absence—what he learnt through these interactions with his ex-girlfriend was that Remus was really and truly trying to make himself better.

“He's told me that he sees his Mind Healer twice a week, and he's been visiting with McGonagall more—I think she's sort of become one of his only friends who is not decades younger than him,” Ginny said in a conversational tone over tea one day, the corners of her mouth twitching into a small, amused smile. “He asks about you a lot, but only little things, asking about how you're doing, and if you're enjoying teaching, those sorts of things. He never asks about Ulrich or anything really personal.”

Harry picked at the petit-four on his plate, and looked around the maisonette that had so recently become Ginny's home. As he took in the grandiose décor that had to be Malfoy's influence, Harry struggled to work out what exactly he was feeling in response to her words.

“He still loves you, you know,” Ginny said, filling the silence. Harry looked up sharply, his eyes widening a little, and Ginny smiled knowingly. “He never says it, he's adamant about not repeating all the bad things he's done, but every time he asks about you...I can see it.”

“I—I can't go down that road again, Ginny,” Harry muttered, his gaze dropping to the small confections, “there's too much risk.”

“I never said that, Harry.”

Thinking back on the conversation did not help to improve his mood, and with a heavy sigh, Harry tried to focus on his students to distract himself from his conflicted mind.

By evening, the miserable train of thought had still not left him. He picked at his food, but he did not feel the least bit hungry. He had pressed himself fast against Ulrich's side, but despite the comforting warmth of the dominant's presence, the sensation did not reach his heart. Giving up on the idea of eating, Harry set aside his bowl and moved to stand up. Predictably, Ulrich grabbed his wrist in a gentle hold.

“Hey, where are you off to?” he asked, and Harry offered him a small smile of reassurance.

“Just a bit antsy, I want to stretch my legs,” Harry explained, “I need a little me time. I'll meet you in the cabin later, yeah?”

“All right, don't go too far.”

“I'll stay close,” Harry reassured him, and leant in for a quick kiss before he offered Ulrich's hand one last squeeze before he stepped away from the dominant and headed for the treeline.

True to his word, Harry stayed close, inside the territory's warding, and wove through the trees, his hands crammed into his pockets and his head bowed forward. The moment he was out of sight of the others he allowed his neutral mask to fall, and he felt his whole body slump forward slightly, like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

Harry stopped when he came upon an old tree with thick, low-hanging boughs, and he hoisted himself into it. Monkey-like, he clambered from branch to branch until he was about twelve feet up, then with his legs dangling off the bough, he pressed his back against the trunk, and sighed heavily as he allowed his melancholic mood to take him over.

I still love him, Harry thought miserably, no matter what I do, I still love him.

His thoughts jumped to Ulrich, and his stomach knotted with guilt again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt him—Ulrich had been so good to him, and anything that pointed towards the possibility that he might break the dominant's heart made Harry feel positively sick.

Harry knew now that he could no longer deny that his feelings for Remus had not changed, and he was still in love with him. At the same time, while he felt affection for Ulrich, it was like comparing apples and oranges. He was certain that he never could feel for Ulrich the way he felt for Remus, despite the fact that he'd made every effort to move forward from Remus, quite simply, he couldn't.

And Remus has gotten over you, don't forget that, Harry's mind supplied for him, as he once more his thoughts jumped back to their last conversation.

...I will do all that I can to stay out of your way...

“Fuck...” Harry hissed as he felt his throat tighten, and he lifted his gaze to the darkening sky. The midsummer moon, so close to full hung above him in silent promise, and Harry hoped that at least part of his hectic, surging emotions was the oncoming moon, and not his heart calling out to Remus.

Harry returned to the cabin an hour later, exhausted, but calm, and he find Ulrich already in bed, propped up and waiting for him. Harry performed his bedtime rituals sluggishly, then as he approached Ulrich, he immediately lifted his arm to welcome Harry, and he immediately burrowed into the offered embrace.

“Feel any better?” Ulrich murmured while his hand ran up and down Harry's spine gently, “you looked downright miserable earlier.”

“I'm okay,” Harry replied vaguely as he rested his head against Ulrich's bicep like some sort of living pillow, “just thinking about...stuff.”

“Hm,” Ulrich intoned, his voice neutral as he leant in to kiss Harry lightly. Harry welcomed it, and his dominant drew him close.

The couple did no more than snog, both so worn out by both the impending moon and the chaos of the last weeks that they both fell asleep rather quickly. Harry was burrowed deeply into Ulrich's embrace, while Ulrich, unwavering, held securely to him.

~*~

By the full moon, Harry felt as though he had mastered the art of smiling past his inner turmoil, but he should have known that Hermione would see right through him.

“What's the matter, Harry?” she asked as they made their customary walk around the edges of the territory to catch up, “good Lord, I feel like I'd find more cheer in a graveyard.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Harry replied, and rolled his eyes. “I've just been...I dunno, thinking about things.”

“Would these things involve a certain older man that you haven't seen for roughly four weeks?” Hermione asked innocently, and Harry felt his cheeks flush a deep scarlet.

“Am I that obvious?” he asked, his voice little more than a mumble, and she laughed softly.

“Just a little, but I know you, Harry,” Hermione replied with a small, warm smile, “it's pretty obvious what's going on in that head of yours.”

“I feel like one of those brainwashed women who go running back to their abuser or something...like I haven't learnt my lesson?” Harry asked miserably, “haven't I suffered enough? I don't want these feelings...” Harry trailed off and raked a hand through his hair as he stared down at his shuffling feet, “and—and—God, what about Ulrich? I care about him, I don't want to hurt him.”

“Harry, slow down,” Hermione said gently. She reached out and laid a hand on his arm, sloing him to a stop. “First off—and I know in the beginning I was not exactly the biggest supporter after, well, you know, but the situation was never as simple as simple as Remus abused you. You had very powerful Primal Magic weaving through both of your heads, and it messed you both up very, very badly. It came out in Remus as jealousy with the incident, then in a misguided self-sacrificing stunt when your partial turning happened. I'm not saying this as a way to excuse Remus's behaviour; but you can't sweep it under the rug and blame it entirely on the bond or Remus, it was a lot of things.”

“What does it matter, anyway?” Harry mumbled, “even after the bond broke, he was still...he still did bad things. He came here, he tried to lay claim to me in his wolf form, he fought with Ulrich...Don't make excuses for him; that was all Remus and you know it.”

“I'm not trying to make excuses for him,” Hermione replied patiently, “there is no excusing what he's done—even Remus agrees on that front. But he is now trying to work through everything in a healthy manner—he is socializing, he has his Mind Healer who he can talk to, he sees Ginny quite often, and I've visited with him a few times, too.”

“Why is he doing all that now?”

“Because he's trying to better himself; not for you, but for him. He's accepted that you no longer want him, and he's trying to move forward from that. He still loves you, I think he always will, but he doesn't want to hurt you anymore, and so he is doing his best to stay away from you, and not make your life any more complicated.”

Harry had no idea what to say to that; part of his mind still felt as though Remus might be doing all this in an effort to get him back, while another, stronger part felt positively horrified at the implication of Remus leaving him behind.

Not yet, Harry thought, I'm not ready to let go of him yet.

The intrusive thought caught Harry off-guard, and as he shook his head in an effort to clear it, Hermione spoke again.

“I'm not saying all this to try and tell you what to do,” Hermione said, and offered him a small, reassuring smile. “It's not my place to tell you what to do or who to be with. All I mean is that he's...better.”

Harry offered her a noncommittal grunt as he nodded his head, but didn't comment. Hermione seemed to understand this, and they finished their walk in silence.

~*~

Despite his maudlin mood, Harry passed the remainder of the day peacefully enough, and at sunset he went with Ulrich to their own corner of the territory for the change without a word.

The pair stripped off and left their clothes in a place where they were least likely to be shredded by excitable pups, and Ulrich sat back down on the dewy grass. Harry rested down between the dominant's long legs, and immediately arched up to kiss him. Ulrich wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and drew him closer, and he shivered as he felt the light of the moon wash over them, bringing his flesh to life.

“It's coming,” Harry breathed, and Ulrich groaned a little.

“I feel it, too,” Ulrich replied as he let Harry go, and not a moment too soon as Harry felt the change take hold.

Harry shuddered through the change, his moan of pain shifting to a howl, and as it approached completion Harry collapsed. He lay in the damp grass, panting hard as he recovered from the shock brought on by his transformation, while a familiar shadow loomed above him, and he lifted his gaze to see his mate standing over him, his dark grey fur a sharp contrast to his white, and Ulrich bowed forward to lick gently at his ears while around them the other werewolves began to stand up and stretch, the dominants mingling with with submissives, while Alpha circled the territory, ensuring that everyone was all right.

Harry stood up and shook himself, while his mate pressed against his side, and bumped Harry's muzzle with his own affectionately. Harry returned the gesture automatically, but even as he did so, he got the sense that something was wrong...off.

He whined, and stepped from foot to foot uncertainly, while Ulrich continued to try and console him. Harry accepted the affectionate touches, but they did little to quell the ache in his gut that told him that something was wrong.

The sensation continued, and it was to the point that Ulrich chose to stay behind when the hunting party went out, and Hermione went in his stead. Harry paced, he circled the territory, and he dogged his mate's steps like a duckling and its mother, but no matter what Ulrich did, the unease and feeling of sheer wrongness refused to leave him.

Harry lay down by the fire with a heavy sigh, and he started slightly when Ulrich's much larger body encircled his, and he rested his head on top of Harry's with a soft huff.

Harry burrowed into Ulrich's warmth, and felt a wave of calm wash over him as he lay there. The sensation almost—but not quite—reached his heart. For the moment, he was content to ignore that particular sensation, and he was able to momentarily find some kind of peace from this strange misery as he lay there.

They both could hear and smell the hunting party return, but when Harry was disinclined to move, Ulrich stayed behind, tending to his mate without a word of complaint, despite the fact that Harry could feel Ulrich's stomach rumble in protest.

With some difficulty, Harry wiggled out from under Ulrich, and urged his mate to do the same, and slowly began to bump his head against the dominant's hindquarters, urging him towards the meal. Ulrich appeared reluctant, but Harry continued to insistently nudge him in the direction of the carcasses, encircled by the pack while they waited for their alpha and his mates to finish eating.

They arrived at the edge of the group just as Alpha, Tavish, and Adina stepped back, and Harry urged Ulrich over to the meal. He wiggled in next to the dominant and managed a few bites, while Ulrich devoured the meat very quickly, so fast in fact that it was something of a marvel that he didn't bring it all back up from overwhelming his stomach from the speed in which he was eating.

Harry stepped back and sat down, still wholly uninterested in eating, and he patiently waited for Ulrich to finish. While he waited, the familiar form of Hermione loped towards him, and nudged his muzzle with hers, while she let out a concerned whine.

In the same instant, Ulrich whirled around and snapped at her, and Hermione snapped back on reflex, rather than actual anger. Harry scooted back from the two dominants, and not a moment too soon as Alpha forced himself between Hermione and Ulrich, defusing the fight before it could get out of hand. Hermione lurched forward again, but a low growl from their alpha was enough to make her back off, and with her head bowed, she scuttled away from the pair bond.

Ulrich, apparently still a little edgy, herded Harry away from the others, and settled down with him far from the other pack members. He lay down, while Harry let out a low whine, and licked some of the blood from Ulrich's muzzle, to which he let out a soft huff, and nuzzled Harry gently.

Harry curled into his side, and Ulrich rested his head on top of his sub in a clear show of claim. He did not protest it, but instead shifted closer to his mate, and ever so slowly, they fell asleep.

~*~

When Harry woke the following morning, he felt completely drained and a bit queasy, almost like he was hungover. His head was pounding and his body felt heavy, and when he at last opened his eyes, still curled in Ulrich's embrace, he looked up to see that the dominant had been watching him while he slept.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, and Harry let out a small groan.

“Awful,” Harry replied in a mumble, “I feel like I downed a whole bottle of firewhisky or something.”

“You were a right misery last night, you barely ate, and all you wanted to do was sleep,” Ulrich said as he reached out to stroke Harry's hair lightly. “Do you remember any of it?”

“Not much,” Harry replied with a grimace, “just...I think you and Hermione fought?”

“I think had a misunderstanding might be a better way of putting it,” Ulrich said, “she was worried for you, and I was overprotective. You can imagine how that played out.”

Harry nodded as he snorted a little, and his eyes fluttered shut again as Ulrich pressed a small kiss to his temple.

“Stay here,” he said, “I'll get us some food and clothing.”

Too tired to move, Harry nodded and slumped back down on the grass. He watched Ulrich go, and again he felt that tug at his heart.

Life was just getting so good, why do I have to feel like this?

Harry blinked hard, and had only just managed to calm himself down by the time Ulrich returned, he sparsely dressed in a pair of sturdy dark jeans and nothing else, while he offered similar garb to Harry(though with a jumper included), as well as a steaming bowl of porridge topped with fruit.

He accepted both items, and tugged on the jeans and thin jumper. Harry then picked up the bowl of offered food, while Ulrich sat at his back, and Harry leant comfortably into the wall of warm muscle.

“What about you?” Harry asked suddenly as he began to eat, and the hearty food helped to clear his head as they sat there, though his internal anguish did not fade at all.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, aren't you hungry?”

“I can wait,” Ulrich replied while he wrapped his arms around Harry's middle and offered him a small squeeze. “You hardly touched the hunts last night, and I'd like to see you eat.”

Harry smiled weakly, but did not respond as he settled back into Ulrich's embrace and ate quietly. As he sat there in the warm hold of someone who cared about him deeply, he felt his stomach twist with guilt.

Regardless what Harry did, he could not share Ulrich's feelings.

I want to love him, but I can't, Harry thought sadly, not when I'm still in love with...

Harry jammed a large spoonful of porridge into his mouth in an effort to stop the thought from finishing itself.

He still loved Remus.

Perhaps, he always would.

Harry wished fervently as he sat there that he could work out what the right course of action was, but no answers came to him, and he ate in silence.

~*~

Later that day, Harry sidled up to Hermione as casually as he could, and asked her to go on a walk with him around the territory. As he did so, he struggled to ignore the sensation of Ulrich's eyes following him as she nodded and he led her away from the others.

“Hermione,” Harry said weakly the moment they were out of earshot, “I—I—” he broke off, uncertain how to phrase his latest problem. Hermione did not speak, but watched him and waited patiently for him to continue. “I'm still in love with Remus. I want him, I—I need him,” he said at last, and looked over at her miserably. She did not appear at all surprised by his confession. “But...I don't know if that's enough. What if...God, what if we get back together and something happens again?”

“You can't predict the future any better than Trelawney could,” Hermione said gently, and Harry laughed weakly. “I don't want to say that nothing will happen and you'll get your Happily Ever After, because life is unpredictable, and you attract trouble like no one else. But Remus still loves you, and like I told you yesterday, a lot of his problems were exacerbated by the bond messing with his head. He had good intentions, he just...handled it very, very badly.”

“Understatement,” Harry replied with a small snort, and Hermione smiled at him sadly.

“Anyway, I think you should maybe think it over, maybe talk to Remus about it, but...” she paused, and her gaze shifted over to the main area of the territory. Harry followed her gaze to find it settled on Ulrich. He was smiling and chatting with Greyback; Harry felt his heart constrict at the sight of him, just as Hermione voiced the words that Harry didn't want to hear.

“Harry, if you love someone else, do the right thing, and let him go.”
A/N: And so we have arrived at the so-called turning point. I'm assuming a few of you will be very unhappy with the direction the fic is now taking(and have either thrown your phones across the room or angrily closed your browser tab at this point), but I tried to approach this as delicately as I could, as gradually as I could, to make time for the redemption arc to flow naturally, and not seem rushed. Generally I try to not justify my plot decisions to my readers (which to be honest I seem to be very bad at). In this case, I hope you guys won't be too pissed, though I am expecting angry comments, it's sort of a given with this fic, people are so passionate about it, which is both humbling and slightly terrifying at the same time. :P So those of you who are rage-quitting here, I understand, and I don't hold it against you.
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Lunaticus Book Three: New Moon Rising