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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 will be October 3^rd!
Chapter Thirty – Look For Me By Moonlight

Without anyone saying a word (and thanks to Ulrich's intervention, no more punches to the face either) Harry began to spend all his nights with Remus, and his days back in the territory.

In some ways, it was perfect. Harry got to spend his evenings with his mate, fall asleep in a cocoon of loving warmth, and the scent of Remus on him kept most of the dominants away when he was with the pack.

In other ways, Harry found it terribly lonely. Since his turning, he'd grown accustomed to being surrounded by people, and even though his time with Remus was something very close to bliss, it was still somewhat isolating.

Harry knew that he needed to talk to Remus about this; discuss it like the adults that they were, but picking the right time to do so was proving a little tricky, given that Harry did not want to make Remus feel guilty and force himself back to the territory—a place he'd told Harry repeatedly did not carry pleasant memories for him—and nor did he want Remus to feel as depressed there as Harry at times felt in their little cabin.

Once more they were stuck in the middle, but for the moment, his loneliness was the farthest thing from his mind—the moon had finally come, and Harry was standing outside, alone, watching the sun's slow progression towards the west as the sky steadily darkened above him.

It was unseasonably warm for September, and in the dim light of late evening, it felt more like a crisp summer night, rather than the beginning of autumn. The moon was due any minute, and the complete lack of anyone else around was making Harry a little anxious. He wanted his pack, and to be without them during a full moon was turning out to be much more nerve-wracking than he had expected.

In the distance, obscured somewhat by the surrounding forest, Harry could see the form of Remus approaching, and Harry felt himself relax as his mate's scent met his nose.

“All the warding is still in place,” he announced when he was close enough. “No one can get in, and we can't get out.”

“Good,” Harry replied with a small smile, “that's—that's good.”

Remus closed the distance between them, and brushed his fingers along the line of Harry's jaw. Harry leant into the touch, but did not shift his gaze from the older man.

“How are you feeling?” Remus asked, and Harry reached for him on instinct rather than rational thought, and he immediately embraced the sub. Harry pressed his cheek to the older man's chest, and heaved a sigh.

“I don't know,” he replied at last, feeling marginally more secure enveloped in Remus's arms, but still a little anxious. “I feel...weird. Lonely but secure, uneasy and content...a mixture of things. I'm glad you're here, but it still feels weird being this close to the moon without a pack around.”

“I know,” Remus murmured, and kissed his temple. “Do you want to call it off? There's still time if you'd rather go back to the pack...”

“No,” Harry replied at once, “we have an agreement. Next moon will be with the pack, we have to split things, that's how relationships are supposed to work...I think.”

“Sorry, Harry, I have this compulsion to spoil you rotten, and I just want to do everything I can to make you happy,” Remus teased, and Harry couldn't help but laugh a little at that.

“That makes two of us,” Harry replied, and got on his toes to kiss him. “Maybe instead of obsessively trying to please the other, we should focus our energy on just enjoying each other's company?”

“Pretty sure we've been doing plenty of that, Harry...” Remus teased, and Harry grinned at him. He definitely wasn't wrong on that count.

Harry felt his skin begin to tingle, and he cast a look towards the darkening sky. He could see the moon beginning to rise, and even before he could see it completely, Harry felt his wolf scrabbling at the edges of his mind, desperate to get out.

“We better get ready,” Remus whispered hoarsely, and Harry nodded before he reluctantly untangled himself from his mate to shed his clothes, Remus taking them from Harry, along with his wand, and stored them inside along with his own.

When Remus returned, Harry immediately bit his lip to stop himself from licking his lips with desire.

This was the first time he'd seen Remus completely naked since their reunion, and the lack of wolfsbane potion in his system had clearly done wonders for the older man's physique.

There was now distinctive muscle definition where before there had been very little at all, and every small movement caused his muscles to tense and flex visibly in his calves and biceps, and the hard line of his abdomen was tense and taut as he braced himself for the change. It was very unlikely he'd ever be as physically strong as Ulrich or Greyback, but compared to how he used to be, the change was significant—and very appealing.

Harry caught his bottom lip between his teeth, and felt a flush rise in his cheeks as Remus's eyes flitted up and down his body in a similar way, as though he was determined to drink in every last detail of the sub's physique.

Harry approached his dominant, and Remus enveloped him in his arms before he caught his lips in a warm kiss.

“One thing that has not changed,” Remus purred against Harry's mouth, “you're still beautiful, Harry.”

Harry buried his face in Remus's chest to hide his embarrassment, and the older man chuckled. He shifted his hold on Harry to cradle his chin, and he forced his gaze back up.

“Don't you believe me?” he asked, and Harry bit his lip again as he glanced away, and Remus released his chin. Automatically, Harry pressed his cheek against the side of Remus's bare chest.

“It's not that,” Harry mumbled bashfully, “I just...I never know how to react when...when people say things like that to me.”

“A simple thank you may be appropriate, assuming you appreciate the compliment.”

“That won't make me self-absorbed?” he asked, and Remus chuckled heartily.

“I don't think you're capable of being self-absorbed, Harry,” Remus replied, and gently coaxed his head up for another kiss, one which Harry was all to happy to return.

“Then...thank you, Remus.”

They kissed again, and Harry shuddered as the moon's rays tickled over their skin. They sank to the ground and Remus held Harry close; they shifted until Harry's back was pressed against Remus's front, and he brushed the back of Harry's neck with warm, encouraging kisses until Harry heard him inhale sharply, and freeze.

He did not need to ask what had sparked the reaction, for Harry could feel it too—the change had come.

Remus let go of Harry, and he fell forward onto shaking limbs. Familiar pain lanced through him and he let out a low groan as his body twisted and reformed itself, his bones crunched and reset, his snout lengthened, and his skin tingled and burned as hair burst from every follicle.

Harry stood at once and shook himself off to let go of the residual feelings of the change, and immediately after, he became aware that he was not in pack territory. However, panic at this turn of events lasted for barely ten seconds, given that strangely, despite the change in locale, it still smelt like home to him.

He looked around with his keen werewolf eyes, and the first thing that he noticed was that he was not alone, but with another wolf.

Large, a mixture of familiar tawny and grey fur, and Harry's heart swelled with excitement at the sight of him—Moony, his mate. The dominant seemed to be having a similar experience as his tail rose high in the air, and his mouth opened in a clear wolfish smile.

They rushed at each other, closing the distance and rubbing up against one another joyfully. It was like parching one's thirst after being lost in a desert, and despite the fact that he was in a different place, without his pack, Harry felt no unease whatsoever. This was his mate, and he felt completely safe and protected in his presence.

Moony nuzzled him one last time, then with a gentle, encouraging nudge, he began to lead the sub over to a den that had been dug beneath an aging willow tree. It was small and enclosed, and any passing predator would likely not even notice that it was there. As they passed into the shade of the ancient tree, Harry's nose picked up the acrid smell of a number of scent markers surrounding it, adding yet another level of protection to the space that simple wizard magic would never be able to match.

Moony sat by the den, and cocked his head to the side in silent request. Harry understood immediately—Moony wanted to hunt for a meal for both of them, but at the same time, he did not wish to leave his mate unprotected.

Harry approached the den; he nudged the dry leaves with the tip of his nose as he inspected the small space. It felt safe to him, moreso with the present scent markers. In this form, none of his silly human pride clouded his mind, and he viewed the den and Moony's silent request only as a warm gesture on behalf of his dominant who wanted to keep him safe, and not some misguided assumption that Harry was incapable of fending for himself.

Without a moment's hesitation, Harry curled up inside the den, and Moony wagged his tail happily. He moved over to his sub and nudged his muzzle affectionately with his own, then darted off into the black of the wood, so silently that he was like a shadow disappearing from view.

Without Moony nearby, Harry was suddenly aware of how silent the forest truly was. Save for the distant rustle of a nighttime mammal of some kind, or the echoing hoot of an owl, there was no noise at all. Harry fidgeted in his den, comforted by the smell of his mate, but unnerved by the solitude nonetheless. He whined softly, but otherwise did not move, though he kept his gaze fixed upon the thick trees Moony had disappeared into as he impatiently waited for his mate to return.

Not twenty minutes later, the silence was suddenly broken by the bleating cry of a dying animal, and Harry thumped his tail against the dead leaves almost unconsciously. He was certain his mate had caught something, a suspicion which was validated not long after when he spotted Moony dragging a small doe from the shadows of the trees.

Harry stood and stretched, then trotted over to where his mate was, and he immediately showed his appreciation for the dominant's kill by tearing into the meal.

Curiously, Moony took a step back as Harry ate, and this small action drew the sub's attention at once. He lifted his head to turn to his mate, and Moony responded with a simple, encouraging nudge against Harry's hindquarters, pressing him to eat. Urged on by his hunger, Harry returned to the doe, and it was only after he had finished did Moony touch the carcass.

Full and content, Harry stretched out on his side as he watched Moony eat. The dominant snapped up everything that Harry had missed, completely stripping the carcass clean before he lay down next to his sub. Moony snuggled up so close that he seemed to mould to the shape of Harry's body, and the sub was almost swallowed up by the dominant's thick, warm fur. Harry sat up as Moony curled up around him, and he arched up to lick the blood from the dominant's muzzle, an action that Moony mirrored once Harry had finished grooming him.

Warm, full, and content, Harry curled up into a small white ball, and Moony wrapped himself around his sub protectively once more. Harry let out a soft, relaxed sigh, and his ear twitched when Moony licked the edge of it. They rested, and when Harry no longer felt almost uncomfortably full he stood up and stretched. Moony cocked his head to the side as he regarded him, while Harry bowed forward, tail high and wagging. His body language was perfectly clear as he gazed at his mate—play with me.

It only seemed to just begin to dawn on Moony what Harry wanted when the sub turned and took off into the forest.

Harry heard Moony scramble to his feet to gave chase, and he felt a thrill of excitement rush through him as he darted between thick trees and under felled logs, choosing paths that Moony would struggle to follow in a straight line, given their significant differences in size.

He curved along the barricade of the warding, and when he could no longer smell Moony, he let out several high, teasing yips, before he darted off again. He heard Moony howl—his mate calling out for him. Harry ignored it, and slipped farther into the depths of the wood.

Harry paused by a babbling brook for a drink, and in that instant he realized that his mate had never once lost track of him. He looked up after his drink to get his bearings before hurrying off again, only to yelp in surprise when he saw Moony leaping over the brook, and straight at him.

Moony bowled Harry over easily, and stood over his sub, his chest heaving as he panted hard. Harry lay on his back, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he tried to catch his breath. Moony nuzzled him affectionately, and Harry arched up to return the gesture.

Harry rolled onto his side, still more than a little tired from the run, and Moony urged him to his feet. Harry whined in protest, and flopped down on the ground dramatically, but Moony was not having it. He nudged Harry to his feet again, and gently shepherded him away from the brook and to a more secluded copse of trees, where Harry stretched out again.

Moony lay down partially on top of him, and the position was both one of claim and protection. As they lay there, Moony tended to his sub diligently; he nuzzled him and licked his ears affectionately, until his complete relaxation from the gentle touches, paired with his exhaustion from the run finally lulled Harry to sleep.

~*~

Harry woke the next morning feeling terribly groggy, but also distinctly aware of a soft, tickling sensation against his chest. He blinked slowly, bemusedly, and glanced down to see Remus's fingertips trailing across his chest lightly. Harry's gaze shifted up to Remus's face, and the older man smiled down at him warmly, albeit tiredly.

“Morning,” he said, and leant in for a kiss. Harry sat up a little to return it, and lifted a hand to stroke Remus's cheek affectionately.

“Morning,” Harry replied as he grinned up at him. “What time is it?”

“No idea,” Remus answered, and leant in to kiss Harry again. Harry laughed, amused by Remus's complete disinterest in anything but snogging, like some sort of overgrown teenager. Harry was quite happy to indulge him, but there was also a distinctive downside to laying outside starkers in September, which made itself known when Harry shivered suddenly from cold.

“Remus,” Harry whispered hoarsely, “as much as I'm enjoying this, I'd kind of like to go and get some clothes on...”

“Cold?” Remus asked, and immediately moved to rub his palm across one of Harry's exposed arms.

“A bit,” Harry replied as he pressed himself against Remus's hand in an effort to warm up.

“All right,” he said, his voice hinting at his disappointment that he had to stop his morning cuddle with his mate, “let's go home and get you warmed up.”

Harry sat up, and he saw Remus move as though to scoop him up. Before Harry could protest however, he watched in quiet amazement as Remus froze, stood, and offered Harry his hand.

Struck dumb with shock that Remus actually resisted the urge to pick him up—something Remus had known for ages that Harry disliked, it took him a moment to work through his surprise enough to respond to the hand extended to him.

Remus helped him up, and with their fingers lazily tangled together, they wove through the trees and back towards the cabin. Given that the warding was still in place, Harry wasn't concerned that they might run into anyone else in this part of the forest. As they walked, Harry could not help but feel a sense of awe towards his mate. All around them, every direction looked to be the same to Harry, but Remus moved with purpose, as though he'd taken this path a dozen times before. Harry was happy to follow his lead, and leant against his side as they made the trek back to the cabin. Remus chuckled and untangled his fingers from Harry's to wrap an arm around his waist, which Harry mirrored, and they walked arm-in-arm all the way back to the cabin.

Inside, they took turns showering, got dressed, and Harry followed Remus to the kitchen to watch him prepare breakfast. Harry did try to offer his assistance, but Remus would only laugh, and pause what he was doing long enough to offer the sub a kiss, before he turned back to the cooker. Harry smiled indulgently, and leant back against the kitchen table to watch him work in silence. It was so familiar, so comforting, and it brought Harry right back to the days before all the trouble had started. It was a wonderful feeling.

Once everything was ready, Harry helped Remus transport the platters of food over to the table with his wand, then sat adjacent to his mate as they each filled their plates and teacups.

“Do you need to rush out if here today?” Remus asked conversationally as he hooked his ankle around Harry's under the table. Harry could hear the note of hope in his voice, and he bit his bottom lip to stop himself from grinning too broadly at his partner.

“Day after the full moon is always a day of rest, so I can stay here pretty much all day,” Harry replied, then nibbled at his bottom lip as he regarded Remus. “that is, if you want me here.”

“I always want you here, Harry,” Remus replied at once, and Harry felt his face grow warm as Remus chuckled and leant across the table to offer him another light kiss.

“You're kind of a cornball, are you aware of that?” Harry teased, and Remus answered simply by offering him a disarming smile.

Both Harry and Remus were a little worn out by the moon from the night before, in particular from their impromptu run, and they spent the day happily doing nothing at all.

They took leisurely walks in the woods near to the cottage; they rested by the fire with cups of tea; and they grazed on an endless stream of fancy tidbits Remus had made in advance, and 'just so happened' to have lying around.

It had been a perfect day, and as evening closed in, Harry found himself stretched out comfortably on Remus's sofa, with his head was perched against the older man's thigh, and Remus's nimble fingers were buried in his hair, stroking the unruly locks idly while he read. Harry was dozing, and the soft crackle of the fire in the grate added to the warm, cozy atmosphere as the dark swallowed the forest outside, and rain began to dot the window and drum against the roof with a relaxing tap-tap-tap.

“What are you reading?” Harry asked suddenly, balanced somewhere between sleep and waking. Remus glanced down, apparently unaware that Harry had been awake, and smiled at him once before he turned his attention back to the thin novel in his hands.

“Call of the Wild,” Remus replied, and Harry just barely managed to bite back a laugh. Of course.

“Is it any good?” Harry asked, and he saw Remus's mouth twitch into a small, nostalgic smile.

“I used to read it a lot as a child. It was always a favourite of mine. My mother was determined I not grow up in just muggle or wizarding culture—she always made sure that there was a balance.”

“I never read it,” Harry said, though he grimaced as he spoke, given that it was probably obvious that he wasn't really a big reader—unless one counted the few hundred times he'd read Flying With the Cannons.

“Well,” Remus began, and Harry watched him flip back to the first page. “Are you comfortable?”

“What?”

“Was that a particularly difficult question, Harry?” Remus teased, and Harry laughed.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Why?”

“I think it's a story you'll enjoy, so, I'll ask you again—are you comfortable?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Harry repeated with another short laugh and nod, finally understanding what Remus was getting at. In truth, he wasn't particularly interested in some old muggle novel, but after he saw the way Remus's eyes lit up at the prospect of sharing something that he enjoyed with his partner, there was no way that Harry could have refused.

“Good, then we'll begin,” Remus replied, and cleared his throat once before he began to read.

“Buck did not read the newspapers, or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not alone for himself, but for every tidewater dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego. Because men, groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal, and because steamship and transportation companies were booming the find, thousands of men were rushing into the Northland...”
A/N: Call of the Wild excerpt by Jack London, Aerie Books Ltd 1986 massmarket edition.
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Lunaticus Book Three: New Moon Rising