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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
- 23
- 24
- 25
A/N: GOOD NEWS! For you guys, anyway. Because of my schedule going off-kilter this week, you'll be getting THREE updates. Today, Wednesday, and Friday. Next week we'll be back to Tuesday and Thursday though. So that said, next update will be Wednesday, September 13^th.

Also, I'd like to give a big thank-you to all my wonderful readers. With the last update, I was expecting much more angry meltdowns and less support than what I got. I just want to thank you guys for continuing to support this story, even if it's now headed in a direction you were hoping against.
Chapter Twenty-Four – The Parting of the Ways

Harry was beginning to find it harder and harder to maintain his everything is fine façade around Ulrich, especially when his mind was still in such deep turmoil.

Every day that passed, he went through the motions of his daily tasks—waking up with Ulrich, breakfasting, spending a few hours with his pupils, lunch, spending a few more hours with the pups, dinner, and then bed.

Interspersed with all this were small moments with Ulrich, and though Harry smiled through them, and Ulrich's embraces left him feeling warm and safe, they also left him feeling hollow.

This isn't right, I'll need to tell him soon, Harry thought almost every night as he curled against Ulrich's chest and clenched his eyes shut. The anguish refused to die, and like so many nights before it, he fell asleep in a state close to tears.

All the while, Hermione's words rang in his head like church bells—

“Harry, if you love someone else, do the right thing, and let him go.”

Harry knew that she was right, but at the same time he wished it was as easy as sitting down and telling Ulrich such a thing. When Harry tried to think of how to tell him, he was filled with such a deep sadness every time he envisioned the wounded, insecure look that Ulrich always adopted whenever he became uncertain of Harry's feelings towards him. Harry's guilt was so overwhelming that he wasn't certain he'd ever be able to actually admit to Ulrich what was going on—the idea of hurting him made him feel positively sick to his stomach.

At the same time however, he was overwhelmed with a deep longing for Remus.

Harry loved him, he did not doubt it any longer, and he knew that Remus loved him back—why else would he put himself through so much pain of coming here, and subjecting himself to so much hurt? Harry never fancied Remus to be the masochistic type, and he knew that everything Remus had done had all been for him.

That knowledge filled Harry with equal parts misery and longing. It was impossible for him to completely dismiss all that Remus had done, but he also recognized that Remus was now making amends for his actions, both with Harry and himself.

~*~

Harry woke on the morning of his twenty-fourth birthday comfortably nestled in Ulrich's arms.

These days, it was not uncommon for him of Remus, and he often he woke in a confusing state of misery and joy. Harry had yet to work out a way to explain to the dominant why he was waking up in tears almost every morning—if he'd ever caught him at it. Thankfully, Ulrich was a late sleeper, and he was able to avoid that particular discussion for the time being.

Close to two months had passed since Remus had left, and even with all the time that had passed, Harry still felt as though he'd lost a limb.

I need him back.

The thought passed through Harry's mind for what felt like the hundredth time, and he cursed silently to himself as he shifted his gaze back to Ulrich's sleeping form.

One thick arm was draped across Harry's waist, Ulrich's lips were parted as he slept on, and his dark hair was fanned across his shoulder in a wavy curtain.

He looked so peaceful.

Harry felt a lump settle in his throat and he closed his eyes as his guilt once more settled itself in the pit of his stomach.

At almost the same moment, Harry felt Ulrich shift next to him, and his warm lips brushed the hollow of his throat before they covered his own in a gentle kiss, which Harry readily returned.

“Happy Birthday,” Ulrich murmured against his mouth, and Harry opened his eyes to smile up at the dominant.

“Thanks,” Harry replied with a small smile, and leant up to kiss him again.

“Twenty-four feel any different than twenty-five?”

“That's such an old man thing to say,” Harry remarked, and Ulrich snorted.

“Well, considering that I look good for my age, I'll let your little jibe go...just this once.”

“Only this once?” Harry asked, and he shivered a little as Ulrich's large hand pressed against his chest and trailed slowly down his front, stopping at the dark thatch of hair just above Harry's groin.

“Well, next time I might feel the need to punish you for remarking on my advanced age.”

“Hmm...promises, promises...” Harry teased, and reached up for Ulrich, one hand curling around his shoulder, and the other resting on the side of the dominant's neck as Harry pulled him in for a kiss.

Ulrich obliged him at once, their lips parting and tongues tangling together sloppily, both of them still waking up, and Ulrich let out a small groan of longing as he pulled Harry closer.

“I'd love to continue this,” the dominant murmured, “but I have it on good authority that your students are planning something special for you, and I'd hate for you to miss it...”

Harry groaned and slumped back against the mattress, which elicited a soft chuckle from Ulrich.

“You're a little bit evil, you know that, right?”

Ulrich did not verbally answer, but leant in for another kiss before he stood up and stretched, and Harry watched with a small, amused smile as the dominant sauntered starkers over to where they kept their clothing, grabbed something for the day, and meandered down the hall to the bathroom.

The moment Ulrich had gone, Harry let his smile fall, and he heaved a small sigh.

I'm going to have to tell him soon, this isn't fair to him, Harry thought as he rolled out of bed and grabbed his own set of clothes before he followed Ulrich's lead into the bathroom.

But not today. I don't want to ruin today for him.

~*~

As promised, Harry's pupils had indeed planned something for him—a gladiator-style duelling contest.

Ulrich and Harry sat, watching the duels like a pair of Roman Emperors at the coliseum as Harry's students shot basic offensive and defensive spells at each other. Daanish was on hand to tend to the minor wounds that they caused each other, though luckily there were no injuries more serious than a bloody nose here and there.

It was great fun, if a bit embarrassing to be the centre of attention. Harry also enjoyed the experience of Ulrich waiting on him hand and foot, which, aside from being a little strange, was nice—though it also added to his guilt over everything that he knew was to come.

In addition to his students, Hermione stopped in at the territory with a pile of gifts for him from herself and the Weasleys, and even Tavish and Adina had given him a little something. The gifts were composed predominantly of sweets and alcohol, but he also got a few texts on charmwork and defensive spells from Hermione that would be very useful in teaching his kids.

On the whole, it had been a wonderful day, and as Harry and Hermione snuck off to walk and chat privately, it got even better.

“I've got news,” she said in a low whisper, “and you're the only one who knows, so don't tell anyone yet in case it doesn't...er, work out.”

“Oh?” Harry asked as he cocked an eyebrow at her, “what news?”

Hermione's face went pink, less like she was embarrassed or ashamed, and more like someone who had been holding their breath for far too long. Whatever it was, it was clear that she was bursting to tell him.

“I'm pregnant.”

The two words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush, and immediately her eyes filled with tears, but Harry could tell that they were tears of joy, not sadness.

Harry did not hesitate, and immediately he pulled her into a tight hug, which she returned at once.

“You did it,” Harry said, and squeezed her more tightly, “I knew you would. Congratulations, Hermione.”

She nodded into the crook of his neck, then stepped back from him, still sniffling a little. Harry could not recall the last time he'd seen her so happy, and it warmed his heart to see it. After everything she'd gone through over the last few months, she absolutely deserved this happiness.

“Does Ron know yet?” Harry asked, and she shook her head mutely, which gave him pause. “Er...why not?”

“I don't want to jinx it by telling too many people...” Hermione explained with a small wince, “I know, logically, it won't make a difference either way, but...just in case. Once I get through my first trimester I'll tell him, but until then...”

“You should tell him, Hermione,” Harry said seriously, “he'll be really upset if he finds out that I knew and he didn't. He deserves to know.”

“But what if he gets all excited and I miscarry?” she asked, her voice just barely above a nervous whisper. “The fact that I'm pregnant at all flies in the face of everything we've been told, and it's a really delicate pregnancy, and what if—”

“—Ron will understand how risky this is,” Harry said, cutting her off. “We kept all sorts of mad secrets when we were at Hogwarts, and he'll understand if you don't want to tell people yet, but you need to tell him. It isn't fair.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” Hermione shot back with a small frown, and her gaze flicked over to where Ulrich sat with Greyback. He was chatting softly with the alpha, and was keeping a close eye on Harry and Hermione's progression around the edge of the territory at the same time. “You haven't told him yet, have you?”

“I'm working up to it,” Harry muttered with a small grimace, “I don't want to hurt him, he's been so good to me...”

“With a breakup, no matter what you do, people will be hurt,” Hermione reminded him with a small frown. “You can stay with Ulrich if that is what you really want, but are you really willing to settle? Are you okay with letting go of Remus completely?”

Harry turned away from her and closed his eyes, and once more, tried to work through all the emotions that were surging through his mind.

“I care about Ulrich, and I love Remus,” Harry replied, and grimaced as he spoke. “I feel like I'm being unfaithful to him, having these feelings for Remus, and...fuck, this is hard.”

“Listen to your heart, Harry,” Hermione encouraged. “Don't think about what I have said, or what Remus has said, or anyone else. Look into your heart, and who do you see?”

Harry closed his eyes again, and tried to listen to what Hermione was telling him to do.

Look into my heart...

Harry saw a picnic on the beach; he smelled parchment, ink, and sandalwood; he saw a man who could be satiated by a comfortable home-cooked meal and a good book, and little more.

A man who loved to learn, took every opportunity to educate himself and others, and came alive when given the opportunity to teach something to someone.

Harry delved deeper.

He saw a man who had fought hard for his life, who had fought against himself, and against the world. A man who lost everything, and somehow still managed to find the strength to go on; a man who always tried to do the right thing, no matter the cost to himself.

“...oh.”

Remus.

As it had been from the beginning, it had always been Remus.

“It's okay, Harry,” Hermione said softly as she reached for his hand and offered it a small squeeze. “It'll work out one way or another, you'll see.”

Harry smiled weakly, but somehow, he doubted it.

~*~

Harry and Hermione returned to the main hustle and bustle of the territory, and Ulrich greeted Harry enthusiastically with a warm embrace and a kiss. Harry forced himself to smile through the loving touches and kisses, and tried to ignore Hermione's disapproving frown.

Not now, he told himself firmly, soon, but not yet.

Harry's birthday wasn't over yet, and after dinner (which, thankfully, did not involve some special feast in his honour, for which he would be eternally grateful) Ulrich dragged him back to their cabin for a little alone time.

And that was when the trouble started.

Ulrich seemed quite keen to give him a birthday shag he wouldn't soon forget, and was quick to manoeuvre Harry over to the bed, where between warm kisses, he stripped Harry of all his garments. When the dominant did not move to remove his own clothes, Harry arched a brow at him, but Ulrich spoke before Harry was able to get a word out.

“Tonight is about you, Harry,” Ulrich purred as he leant in for a gentle kiss, “it's your birthday, after all.”

“Yeah, but—”

“—no buts,” Ulrich interrupted, and kissed him again. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”

“Fine,” Harry replied with a chuckle, and flopped down against the mattress as Ulrich produced a bottle of scented oil that made the entire cabin smell like wildflowers.

Ulrich guided Harry onto his front, and perched lightly on the sub's bare arse as he drizzled the oil onto Harry's back, and began to rub it in. Instead of relaxing him however, the thoughtful, intimate touch made Harry's stomach somersault with guilt.

“God, Harry, you're so tense,” Ulrich remarked as his large, weather-worn hands moved down Harry's back, and he shivered a little. “I should've done this for you ages ago...”

“Sorry...” Harry mumbled as he buried his face in the mattress, and Ulrich chuckled softly.

“Don't be sorry...” he replied, trailing off as his hands slid from Harry's lower back to cup his arse, and Harry moaned softly as Ulrich offered it a firm squeeze.

Harry pressed back into Ulrich's large hands, and he craned his neck to watch as the dominant paused to shed his own clothing. It took less than a minute for him to do so, then he traded the scented oil for the lubricant, and a single finger brushed at Harry's entrance and wiggled itself into his arse, but instead of the pleasant feeling Harry had expected, it twinged painfully. Harry clenched his eyes shut and tried to force himself to relax, an act which Ulrich seemed to buy, as he added a second finger, then after taking a moment to scissor them, replaced them with his cock.

In lieu of the pleasure that was supposed to come from such an act, Harry was thrown when a very different sensation came with the feeling of the dominant breaching his hole.

It hurt.

Harry's breath escaped him in a sharp gasp before he could stop it, and Ulrich froze.

“Harry?” he asked uncertainly.

“H-hurts...” he choked out as he clenched his eyes shut, and Ulrich immediately pulled out, and Harry heard the low murmur of a cleaning spell. Harry sat up and buried his face shamefully in his hands. Immediately, he felt a comforting arm wrap around him, and he felt tears prick the corners of his eyes.

“I'm sorry,” Harry mumbled miserably, “fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to muck this up for you...”

“Harry,” Ulrich murmured, and shifted to reached for Harry's hands, and he gently pulled them away of from his face. “Hey, it's okay, it happens.”

Harry shook his head, but found his voice to be caught in his throat.

Was this the moment?

Harry hadn't quite planned it like this. He didn't want to ruin this for Ulrich, but but despite the current state of...affairs, it seemed inevitable. He finally had to come clean.

“Ulrich,” Harry whispered, his voice suddenly rather hoarse, “I...I...”

The words wouldn't come.

He couldn't say it—he simply couldn't bring himself to hurt someone who had done absolutely nothing wrong.

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times like a fish out of water, while Ulrich merely looked on with a small, sad smile.

“It's all right, Harry,” he said gently as he reached out for Harry's hands, “I know.”

Harry stared.

“Wh-what?”

“I know. You're still in love with Remus, and you've spent the last few weeks trying to figure out how to tell me, right?”

Ulrich spoke with a smile, as though Harry had said nothing more upsetting than he'd lost Ulrich's favourite pair of socks or something. Harry couldn't work out why Ulrich was being so calm about this, especially when all this had started, he had been very possessive of his sub.

“How did you figure it out?” Harry asked softly, while he kept his gaze fixed shamefully on his lap.

“It was pretty easy, actually,” he replied, and laughed weakly. Slowly, Harry lifted his miserable gaze to face the dominant, and he found Ulrich to be smiling at him sadly. “You and Remus...you two come alive when you're around each other. Even when you're fighting, there's a passion there that never goes away. I knew from pretty early on that I never stood a chance. You never seemed unhappy with me, but you were always merely...content.” Ulrich broke off his narrative when his voice got distinctively croaky, and Harry's hands tensed in his.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Ulrich,” Harry said weakly, “I care about you, I'm so sorry, I just...I...”

“You can't love me,” Ulrich finished for him, and Harry nodded as both men seemed to break in the same instant. Harry lurched forward, just as Ulrich moved to gather him into his arms, and they held onto each other tightly, almost desperately.

“I'm sorry...I'm so, so sorry, Ulrich...” Harry whispered against his neck, and Ulrich tightened his hold on him.

“Shh, shh, I know...it's all right...”

“It's not all right,” Harry replied as his voice cracked, “I'm so...I just...I hate that I've hurt you, I'm sor—”

His apology was cut off by a feverish kiss, one which Harry returned as he clutched desperately to Ulrich and whispered apology after apology between kisses, while Ulrich attempted to console him. Harry knew without the shadow of a doubt that he could not love Ulrich, but it didn't stop their impending separation from being incredibly painful.

Letting him go, or rather, Ulrich knowing instinctively that he was going to be let go, hurt more than Harry could have foreseen.

When Harry had calmed down a little, he pulled back to look up at Ulrich, his head cocked to the side as he studied him sadly.

“Why?” he asked at last, and Ulrich blinked at the question.

“Why what?”

“Why even pursue me if you knew that it was doomed to fail?” Harry asked, his voice still a little hoarse and croaky from the swell of emotion that seemed to be lodged in his throat. “What's the point of setting yourself up for heartbreak like that?”

“Initially, I had no idea if that would be the case,” Ulrich explained while both men eased down on the bed and lay side by side as they talked. “You were angry, hurt, a mess from what had happened between you and Remus. I was very angry at him for hurting you, but it was hard, because I also understood—to an extent, at least—why he did it. He was misguided, but not evil for what he had done. But, I have been interested in you since that first time I saw you, escorting Alpha back to us. And from that first moment, I knew that I wanted you.”

“I remember,” Harry cut in, “you called me a Phelan.”

“The little wolf,” Ulrich confirmed with a small nod, and Harry smiled.

“I've loved you for a long time, and at that first moon, I claimed you. Without our human consciences in the way, there wasn't anything to stop us,” the dominant continued, his gaze averted from Harry with a faraway look in his eyes. “But as time went on...I realized that it wouldn't last. You loved Remus, and you wanted him—even when you said that you didn't. I just knew that he would always be the one who owns your heart. When I realized that, I decided that I would hold on to you for as long as you would let me, and let you go when the time was right.”

Harry wasn't certain when he'd started crying, but as Ulrich finished speaking, he was distinctly aware of tear tracks staining his cheeks. He lurched forward and kissed Ulrich hard, and the dominant's arms tensed around him. Harry reached up to wipe away Ulrich's own tears as they kissed, and both men trembled with anguish.

“You're too good,” Harry murmured weakly, “you...I never deserved you.”

“Maybe I just have low standards,” Ulrich teased in the same tone of voice, and Harry responded with a faint smile. The dominant leant in and kissed Harry again, and in the kiss, Harry could feel only one emotion—Goodbye.

“Stay in here tonight, please,” Ulrich whispered, his arms still tense around Harry, “just...let me have this one last night.”

Harry kissed him again, and that seemed to be all the answer that Ulrich needed.

Slowly, they settled in for the night; entangled in a lover's embrace for the very last time.
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Lunaticus Book Three: New Moon Rising