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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
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A/N: Next update is this Friday, September 15^th. After that, we're back to our regularly scheduled Tuesday/Thursday update schedule.
Chapter Twenty-Five – Approach

Despite Harry's intent of spending one last night with Ulrich, that quickly evolved into a number of consecutive nights, and Harry could not decide how he felt about this, or what to do about it. At first, it had seemed like a good idea.

“Stay in my cabin,” Ulrich had offered, “if my scent is on you, it will keep the other dominants at bay while you decide what you want to do.”

At the time, it had seemed like an endearing, self-sacrificing offer. Harry agreed, given that he wasn't keen to be viewed as on the market again, and he stayed in Ulrich's cabin. During the day, they had gone back to a casual, if slightly awkward friendship, but at night, Ulrich held him close as though nothing had changed.

It left Harry feeling terribly guilty, and more than a little confused.

“I don't know what to tell you,” Tavish said over lunch a week later, when Ulrich was elsewhere. “He's probably looking for excuses to not let you go. If you wanted to break it off with him, it should be a clean break, Harry, not this...lingering...clinging...thing that you two are doing. It'll just make things harder if you get back with...y'know, him.”

“At first, I thought he was doing me a favour,” Harry muttered between bites of spit-roasted meat as he glared at his knees, “but now...I dunno. I'm not keen on being hounded by single doms again, but I don't know if I should keep this up, either.”

“Ulrich probably isn't doing it to be an arse, he just really cares about you, and doesn't want to let you go,” Tavish replied, “I know if I was replaced by another sub, I'd be pretty devastated...”

Tavish's gaze strayed over to Greyback, and Harry mirrored him. He spotted the alpha in deep conversation with one of the dominants in the regular hunting party. Harry smiled a little as he watched his fellow sub; it was quite clear how much Tavish loved him, even though he never said it out loud. Quickly, Tavish turned away from his mate and back to Harry, and returned to their conversation.

“Have you come to a decision about...?” Tavish trailed off, eyebrows raised in an obvious hint, and he jerked his head none-too-subtly in the direction of the territory's Apparition Point.

“Aside from working out that I miss him and want him back, no,” Harry replied in a tone just above a mumble, and he set down his empty bowl. “I want to go see him, but at the same time...what if he rejects me?”

“Unlikely, considering how much time he put into trying to win you back,” Tavish pointed out, and Harry chuckled softly. “But if you're planning to go find him, maybe wash your clothes first—and move back into the Sub House. You reek of Ulrich, and he might think you're two-timing him or something.”

“Is that really all that likely?” Harry asked as he cocked a brow at his friend, and Tavish snorted loudly.

“Yes,” he deadpanned, “they're so bloody sensitive, common sense doesn't come into play all that much where their mates are concerned.”

“Brilliant,” Harry muttered as he bowed forward to cradle his chin in his hands, while he braced his elbows against the top of his knees. He stared into the fire sullenly, and his stomach gurgled unpleasantly with nervousness.

Harry decided to take Tavish's advice and go to the Sub House for the night.

Harry had slunk away from dinner early and made his way to Ulrich's cabin to gather up his belongings quietly—but this didn't go quite as smoothly as planned.

His arms full of clothes, his toothbrush, and Quidditch Through the Ages, he turned around to head out, and he immediately spotted Ulrich leaning in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“Er, hi,” Harry said awkwardly, and stepped from foot to foot nervously as he gazed at Ulrich, but the dominant's expression didn't change.

“So...this is it?” he asked hollowly as he looked away from Harry. His expression seemed to border between anger and sadness, though Harry genuinely could not tell which was the stronger emotion at that moment.

“Er, yeah,” Harry replied and bit his lip. “I...I think it might be for the best.”

Ulrich heaved a heavy sigh and buried his face in his hands. Harry watched and waited, and after close to a full minute of silence, he spoke again.

“I wish I was more selfish,” Ulrich mumbled, “I wish I didn't care so damn much about your feelings, or your happiness...I wish...but I can't. I can't do it. I can't make you stay with me, knowing you're just settling.”

Harry set down the things he'd been holding, crossed over to Ulrich, and pulled him into a tight hug. He held onto Harry like his life depended on it, and Harry rubbed his back as Ulrich shuddered with unshed tears.

“You're a good man, Ulrich,” Harry said softly, “one of the kindest, bravest, most honest...you'd be just as miserable if I stayed with you, knowing that I can't—that I—we can't do that to each other, it's not fair.”

“I know, really I do,” Ulrich replied as he straightened up, and Harry felt his stomach flip-flop with alarm when he saw how red Ulrich's eyes were. “It's been a long time since I've felt like this, and I wish I didn't have to let you go.”

Harry offered him a small, sad sort of smile as he reached up to cradle the dominant's cheek. He immediately leant into the touch, and Harry got on his toes to kiss him lightly.

“You'll find that special someone,” Harry said, “I know that you will. You're a wonderful man, I've never met anyone quite like you, we just...well, you know.” Ulrich nodded a little, but despite the fact that he seemed to understand what Harry was saying, his arms tensed around him, and he did not let him go.

“I thought I found that person in you.”

Harry worried his bottom lip as he gazed up at the dominant, unsure what to say in response to that. He didn't want to come off as insensitive, but he'd rather thought Ulrich was handling their separation better than this—clearly, he had been mistaken.

As delicately as he could, Harry wormed his way out of Ulrich's embrace, and took his hands. The move didn't make Ulrich look any more upset, but it didn't exactly cheer him, either.

“Ulrich, I care for you, I always will. You're...in a way, my saviour. I was a wreck when I got here, and being with you...it helped to put me back together again. But...” he paused, and his gaze dropped to his feet. “I—I can't be with someone I can't love. It's not fair to either of us. I don't want to hurt you any more than I already have, you don't deserve it.”

Ulrich bowed his head, and didn't answer as he dropped his hands to his sides and stepped out of the way of the door. Harry moved back and gathered up his things, then paused before Ulrich, and offered him one last soft, sweet kiss.

“Well...goodbye,” Harry said softly, and smiled weakly when Ulrich offered him a small nod before he slipped out the door for the very last time.

When Harry finally made it to the Sub House, it felt as though he had been hit with about a hundred Jelly Legs Jinxes. He flopped down onto his bed with a small groan, and Tavish looked up from his novel.

“How'd it go?”

Harry grunted.

“That bad, eh?”

“I think pulling out my own toenails with pliers would've been more fun...” Harry mumbled as he stared up at the ceiling of the House.

“Well, it had to be done, or you two would've been miserable.”

“I know,” Harry replied as he sat up with a small groan and gazed over at his friend. “I just hate that I hurt him. He didn't deserve it.”

“No, he didn't,” Tavish agreed, “and if you had drawn it out any longer, I'd toy with the idea of telling him myself, but it's out there now, and now you're free to go after your one true love.”

“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds pretty stupid,” Harry replied, and Tavish threw a pillow at him.

“Go to bed, you prat, and then go running after the love of your life tomorrow.”

Harry had listened to Tavish's advice, but as he lay on the bed, he tossed and turned while he stared up at the ceiling miserably. He'd grown so used to falling asleep entangled in a warm body that going to sleep alone was proving to be more than a little difficult. He hugged his pillow to his chest, and immediately his thoughts turned to Remus.

Unlike with Ulrich, where thoughts of the man had been warm and fuzzy—comfortable, like a security blanket—with Remus it was always much more intense and all-encompassing. The thought of Remus made Harry burn with need, it made him feel like his whole body had been set on fire, and yet at the same time, he felt a perfect sense of peace and safety.

Ironic, considering their recent history.

Outside, Harry heard a distant roll of thunder, and one of Jade's quadruplets on the other side of the space began to fuss. Within thirty seconds, Harry heard their mother murmuring softly and cooing in an effort to soothe them, but the other three did not react as the thunder came closer, and with it, the loud rush of heavy rain hit the roof of the House.

Harry sighed softly, and shut his eyes. Slowly he was lulled to sleep by the sound of the rain, his pillow still clutched tightly against his chest as his dreams turned to a certain werewolf in an old, tatty, brown cardigan.

In sleep, Harry smiled.

~*~

After their discussion the night before, Ulrich seemed to take Harry's moving back into the Sub House in stride, but Harry did not miss the looks of longing he cast Harry's way every time they were within sight of each other. It made Harry feel horribly guilty, but he didn't dare approach Ulrich to discuss it. He didn't want to rekindle their relationship out of guilt, especially when he was still stuck on how to approach Remus without feeling like he was barging in on the man's life in any way.

In the end, Harry decided to approach Remus as simply as possible, and he drafted a short letter. The small square of parchment carried only four words:

Can I see you?

For some strange reason, signing his name felt out of place to Harry, and he sent off the letter with the territory's owl, his heart in his throat.

Harry was uncertain what to expect; half of him assumed that the owl would be turned away, while the rest of him prayed that Remus would actually be willing to talk.

The owl returned a few days later with a different letter clutched in his beak.

You never need permission to see me, Harry.

I am at my old safe house, the one you visited when the bond initially happened. Come any evening you like.

Remus

Harry's heart swelled in his chest, and he beamed at the letter. Quickly, he quilled a response.

Today?

Harry sent the owl back, and by early afternoon it returned, but flew off quickly, as though keen for a rest from so many frequent journeys.

I will be home at dusk. I look forward to seeing you.

Remus

The short letter was written hastily; the parchment was blotted with droplets of black ink and a fingermark near the bottom of the page. The handwriting was less neat than usual, as though Remus's hand had been shaking as he wrote it.

The formality of the tone made Harry more than a little nervous, however. He spoke similarly to how he had when Harry had been his student, and Harry was more unnerved by that than he was willing to admit. He could all but feel the chilling distance between them now, where once there had only been warmth.

Harry prayed that he wasn't too late.

~*~

The day took far longer to pass by than Harry would have liked, and he made sure to pull Greyback aside and inform him of his intent to leave the territory for the evening. He grunted a response, but did not bother with a proper answer, though Harry suspected that that was due to his split with Ulrich. The two were, after all, very close, and Harry assumed that he must have felt some level of anger at Harry for breaking it off with the beta.

“Fine,” he had grunted, “I'll inform the sentries so they don't accidentally kill you if you come back some time after dark.”

The response wasn't exactly reassuring, but at least he wasn't being barred from leaving, for which Harry was grateful. He mumbled a quick thank-you, then made his way over to Tavish to inform him of his plans, who shared his cautious optimism over his impending meeting with Remus.

“It's a good sign, isn't it?” Tavish asked uncertainly, “I mean, it means he hasn't moved on, right?”

“I suppose,” Harry replied as he gazed down at the responses from Remus that he had held on to all day. “I just don't like how formal this one sounds,” he lifted the second note and waved it in front of his companion significantly. “Why does he make it sound like some sort of business transaction or something?”

“It's probably a precaution,” Tavish answered with a small shrug, “he probably, like you, doesn't know what to expect, so he's bracing himself if you say you don't want him back or something. That'd be my guess.”

“Maybe...” Harry trailed off as he lifted a hand to rake it through his hair, but he was unable to take his eyes off the notes. “I just hate this waiting, it's making me so stressed. I want to see him now.”

“Okay, now you sound like a five-year-old waiting for pudding,” Tavish replied with a small laugh, “but, Mummy, I don't want to eat my vegetables! I want biscuits!”

“I do not sound like that!” Harry protested, his voice jumping up a few octaves in his anger.

“Oh yes, you do,” Tavish shot back with another laugh at Harry's reaction.

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“Okay, when I'm marvelling at the immaturity? Be scared.”

A third voice interrupted their halfhearted bickering, and they turned to see Gina standing before them, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she gazed at them, her face a little pink as though she was trying to keep from laughing.

“Hey, Gina,” Harry said with a small smile. “Something on your mind?”

“Er, yeah, actually,” she replied, and relaxed a little when Harry did not appear irritated that she had interrupted their discussion. “Me and the others were talking, and we wanted to start a Duelling Club. One of the older kids said you were in one in school, so I said I'd ask you if you could help us start one.”

Immediately, Harry was mentally transported back to his second year.

“Scared, Potter?”

“You wish.”

“My only experience with that particular Duelling Club was a bit of a disaster, to tell the truth,” Harry replied with a small laugh, “How many of you were talking about it?”

“About half,” she replied, her tone now wavering between hope and disappointment while she gazed up at Harry with wide, pleading eyes, “so maybe about fifteen or twenty?”

“All right, well, I'll think about it, yeah?”

“Great,” Gina said while she beamed at him, “thanks, Harry.”

Without another word she darted back over to her friends. As Gina relayed what Harry had said to them, they all seemed thrilled—despite the fact that Harry hadn't actually said yes yet.

“Never a dull moment, eh, Harry?” Tavish said, and Harry laughed.

“You're telling me.”

Harry passed the rest of the day peacefully enough, though half his time was spent shooing away his persistent students, all of whom were 'casually' bringing up their Duelling Club idea to him at every opportunity.

He wasn't firmly against it—for the kids with dominant blood, it certainly would be an asset to the pack when they were older, but Harry was already so swamped with keeping on top of their regular lessons, he had no idea how he'd fit in a Duelling Club in on top of all that.

If nothing else, his pesky students had helped to keep him busy, and time went by much more quickly. Soon, he was getting ready to go and meet with Remus.

“Nervous?” Tavish asked as he walked with Harry to the edge of the territory, while Harry fumbled with the cuffs of his jumper. He glanced up to his friend and almost laughed—he was certain that it was painfully obvious just how nervous he was.

“A bit, yeah,” Harry replied, and Tavish smirked a little.

“Keep your bollocks metre handy,” Tavish said simply, but firmly. “If he starts responding to you in a bad way, get out of there. Don't get sucked in a again.”

“I hope that won't be the case,” Harry muttered as they slowed to a stop at the Apparition Point, “as stupid as it might sound, I really think he's changed.” He paused, and turned to Tavish again. “Do I sound mental for saying that?”

To his question, Tavish did not immediately respond. He cradled his chin with his thumb and forefinger, and stared off into space for a few moments before he finally answered.

“I think...I think you two have a complicated relationship that got mucked up by a bad mix of werewolf and wizard magic,” Tavish said, “I don't think he's a bad person, he just...went about things the wrong way.”

“That's what everyone's been saying,” Harry replied while he eyed the Apparition Point uncertainly. Could he really do this? “I'm so confused. I don't know what's right and what's wrong anymore.”

“Maybe it's not right or wrong,” Tavish said simply, “it just...is. One thing I do think is that you love Remus, and he loves you. It's pretty obvious how much you two care for each other, it's just that you're both pants at that whole communication thing.”

Harry barked a laugh and Tavish grinned, then pulled him in for a tight hug.

“Good luck, Harry,” he said, and Harry smiled as he hugged his friend back. He didn't verbally respond, but it seemed as though Tavish understood the sentiment anyway as Harry untangled himself from the other sub.

Tavish stepped back, smiling, and Harry felt his friend's eyes on him as he Disapparated with a sharp crack.

~*~

Harry reappeared outside a section of dense forest, about twenty feet from a quaint little wooden cottage that he recognized immediately. The solitary window next to the door was glowing with warm firelight, and a thin stream of smoke was trailing from the chimney.

Even if Harry hadn't recognized the cottage, Harry knew that he was in the right place. The whole area seemed to carry Remus's scent, and Harry felt as though his skin was humming from being so close to him.

At the same time, Harry could smell a positively mouth-watering aroma coming from the little cottage, which told Harry that Remus was inside preparing dinner. The scent carried Harry back to better times, happier times, and above all, it gave him hope that this wasn't a fruitless endeavour, after all.

Harry licked his lips out of nervous habit, and after he took a small breath to brace himself for whatever was to come, he stepped towards the little cottage.

When he was within five feet of the simple wooden door, it swung open before he was even close enough to knock.

Harry's breath caught.

Remus stood there, eyes a little wide, and the look that presided there mirrored his own feelings exactly—a cross of nervousness and a hopeful expression in that amber gaze he'd come to love so dearly. Remus's matching feelings lifted Harry's spirits, and he felt more confident that this might work, after all.

“Er, hi,” Harry said with a small smile, and Remus all but beamed at him.

“Come in, Harry,” he said, a faint tremor in his own voice, and he stepped aside to admit him.

Harry closed the distance between himself and the threshold, and stepped inside. He was close enough to Remus that he could feel the dominant's body heat, and it took a great deal of effort to keep still and not jump on the older man immediately.

The cottage, meanwhile, was a little different than Harry remembered. There was a stale and stuffy odour on the air, and despite Remus's obvious efforts to tidy the place up, in his time away from it, it had clearly gone to seed, and it was still dusty and cobwebby. It was also much more bare than Harry remembered it—all of Remus's belongings, from his books to his framed photographs and knickknacks were all missing, and the lack of personalization in the small space made it feel as drab and depressing as Grimmauld Place used to be.

On Remus's tiny scrubbed table in the open-concept kitchen were two place settings with steaming bowls of stew and a loaf of crusty bread. Despite the circumstances, the sight made Harry smile, and he had the distinct feeling as though, after months away, he had finally come home.

“Erm, thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” Harry said awkwardly as he refocused his attention on Remus, who continued to smile at Harry warmly.

“My home is always open to you, Harry, I'm sure you know that,” Remus replied as he shut the door behind him, and led him towards the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” Harry answered, though as he said it, his stomach twisted nervously as Remus circled him and side-by-side they headed to the table. It felt so strangely familiar and completely alien all at once, and Harry did not fail to notice how Remus was careful to keep his distance from him, which hurt more than Harry liked to admit.

Harry and Remus both sat at the table, and the older man avoided Harry's eye as he set about slicing the bread. Harry felt mildly sick as he looked on; he could not recall the last time he'd seen the older man so nervous.

“So, you said in your letter that you wanted to see me?” Remus prompted, though it escaped him like a question as he passed the bread board to Harry, and he accepted a couple slices. “What about?”

Harry pressed his lips together, uncertain whether he was more amused or annoyed by the question—he'd thought it was fairly obvious why he was there.

“Well, er, I...” Harry trailed off when he felt his face grow warm with embarrassment. Remus raised his eyebrows at him, but did not interject, and merely gazed at Harry with a neutral expression of curiosity. The gentle, placid reaction bothered Harry a little, and he found that he had no idea how to say what he wanted to say.

“Erm, after...after you left, and after everything with Alpha's trial...I...er, I broke it off with Ulrich.”

Remus's eyes widened in shock, though Harry noted that there was also a lack of surprise there, too. Harry supposed that since he'd spent so much time in the Sub House lately, the scent of the other dominant on him would not be as strong.

“Things not work out?” Remus asked mildly, and began to butter his bread, though even at a distance Harry could see that his hands were shaking slightly.

“Something like that,” Harry muttered with a humourless smile, “er...sort of hard to keep a relationship going when...when you're in love with someone else.”

Remus's butter knife hit the tabletop with a loud clatter, his eyes widened a little as Harry looked at him significantly. Harry could hear that Remus had stopped breathing, and his shock seemed to be coming off of him in waves.

“Harry?” he prompted weakly, as though whatever he had been expecting when Harry dropped by, this wasn't it.

“I can't get you off my mind, Remus,” Harry said, and sat on his hands as he spoke. He was tempted to just throw caution into the wind and just jump into Remus's arms, but something told him that that might not be the best course of action, if the older man's nervous, deer-in-headlights expression was anything to go by. “Ever since you left...I can't think about anything else, or anyone else. It's just...you.”

Harry pulled out his hands from under him, and he reached across the table for Remus. When he did so, Remus did something that Harry did not expect.

He pulled away.

“Oh, Harry,” Remus said softly, his voice laced with anguish, “no. We can't go down that road again.”

Harry froze, certain that he'd misheard him.

“Wh-what?”

“Please don't mistake me,” Remus said in a rush, “I care for you—I do love you, more than anything. I believe that I always will, but when I am with you...I don't want to risk hurting you again. There is too much at stake—to much risk. It might be better for us to remain friends, and nothing more.”

“If you don't want to hurt me, what do you think you're doing now, then?” Harry asked, his voice cracking, and Remus winced as though he'd been struck. “Remus, please, I need you.”

The sight of Remus warped as the older man shook his head, his gaze fixed firmly upon his knees. Harry blinked, and his tears streaked his cheeks. Still, Remus kept his eyes down.

“I'm sorry, Harry, but I am too damaged to risk a relationship with anyone—in particular someone I care so deeply about,” Remus said gently, his voice laced with anguish as he spoke, and when he finally looked back up, he looked as distraught as Harry felt. “You deserve someone who can love you and be what you need...not this broken shell. Go back to Ulrich, Harry.”
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Lunaticus Book Three: New Moon Rising