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Lunaticus Book Three: New Moon Rising	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Remus Views: 12599 -:- 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 May 19th. After next week I'll be out of school for the summer so I'll have a little more time to dedicate to my writing :)
Chapter Four – Distractions

Though his plan had been simple, in retrospect, Harry felt as though he should have known that walking into Diagon Alley, in disguise, with a dominant werewolf in tow would not be an easy endeavour. The trouble did not come from random passers-by, as Harry had assumed that it might—but from Ulrich himself.

It became clear quite early on that save for Ulrich's visit to Grimmauld Place, it had likely been a while since he'd been out in wizarding public. He crowded Harry badly, all knowledge of personal space apparently forgotten, and his hand remained planted firmly on Harry's shoulder as they wove through the alley. Any time that a pedestrian got too close, Harry could hear a soft, warning growl escape the beta.

“Knock it off,” Harry hissed each time that it happened, while he elbowed Ulric sharply, “we're not in the territory, they mean us no harm, now calm the fuck down.”

Ulrich would quiet down, but he remained tense, and eyed Harry with a look of complete disbelief with every time he claimed that the wizards that surrounded them would not hurt them. He could understand the sentiment well enough, but he was almost as tense as Ulrich in being here, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to be patient with the beta's attitude.

By the time that they'd reached Flourish and Blotts, Harry was already deeply regretting the excursion, if nothing else, because of how exhausting keeping Ulrich in check was.

“Good afternoon, sirs!” Piped the shop assistant the moment Harry and Ulrich stepped inside, “how my I help—” he broke off as he took in the sight of Ulrich, and Harry could already feel him tensing up next to him.

“Oh, for the love of...” Harry grumbled, whipped out his wand and promptly shot a spray of water directly into the dominant's face, easily snapping him out of his defensive stance as he sputtered and cried out in surprise.

“What the hell was that for?” he demanded, water still dripping off his face as he glared at Harry.

“Knock it off with the protective shit, I mean it,” Harry said firmly, “go look at the magazines or something, this won't take long.” He pointed to the racks of magazines near the front doors, and Harry brazenly met the dominant's gaze, in an effort to show Ulrich that he wasn't screwing around.

“Tell Alpha about this and you'll regret it,” Ulrich muttered as his shoulders slumped and he shuffled towards the doors, and mopped his face with the hem of his shirt before he refocused his eyes on Harry as he leant against the wall, his arms crossed. Harry rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the slightly bewildered shop assistant.

“Sorry about that,” Harry said while he drew a folded piece of parchment from his pocket, “I need these books, please.”

Harry handed the list over, and the assistant looked it over quickly. He looked up again, and offered Harry a small smile.

“Not a problem...Mr Potter,” he said, Harry blanched, and the assistant immediately chuckled. “Not to worry, not to worry, I have been selling you your schoolbooks since your first year. Even in disguise, I would know that it was you. I'll see to these books, I'll be back in a moment.”

The assistant bustled off, and Harry stepped over to the till to wait for him to return, which he did in under five minutes, carrying a towering stack of books that went well above his head, though miraculously, he made it over to the till without dropping any of them.

“Right,” he said as he rang up the books, “Gemino editions of The Standard Book of Spells, Grades one through seven, Magical Theory, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and Advanced Transfiguration. Is that correct?”

“Yep, that's everything,” Harry replied, and pulled out his Gringotts key. The assistant nodded when he saw it, and pulled out what looked like some sort of strange magical equivalent of a Rolodex.

Harry pressed his key against the parchment, and held his thumb against it until it glowed faintly, certifying that it was really Harry making the purchase, and he let go of it so that the assistant could use the machine to charge the purchase to Harry's account. He handed back Harry's key along with the receipt, and Harry shrunk they books before he pocketed them.

“Thanks,” Harry said, and the assistant smiled.

“Any time, Mr Potter. Have yourself a good day.”

“You too,” Harry replied as he offered the man a nod of his head, and turned back to Ulrich, who was standing sulkily by the doors. It looked as though he hadn't moved a muscle.

“Is that it? Are we done?” he asked, a note of desperation in his voice, and it took a great effort for Harry to keep from rolling his eyes. He understood Ulrich's uneasiness, to a point, but he felt like this was more than a little over the top.

“Two more stops,” Harry replied and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing when Ulrich let out an audible groan of frustration. “I swear, you're as bad as a boyfriend in a women's changing room...” Harry said, but too late realized how his words could have been interpreted, and he felt his neck grow warm.

“Don't be so flippant,” Ulrich replied sternly, apparently missing the double meaning of his words. “Red Moon may be gone, but there are many wizards out there who do not like our kind. Complacency is a fatal mistake, remember that.”

Harry wasn't certain it was as bad as Ulrich made it out to be, but offered up no more comments as he led the way to the Wizarding Supplies shop for quills, ink, and parchment, then with Ulrich behind him still tense and grumbling. Harry led him to a small, dusty shop that he knew well. He smiled at the single wand in the display window, remembering vividly the first time Hagrid had brought him here, and pushed the door open.

“Welcome to Ollivanders, makers of fine wands since 382 BC,” said a light, airy voice that definitely didn't belong to Ollivander. “Hello, Harry.”

“What's the point in having a disguise if everyone can tell that it's you?” Ulrich asked incredulously, and Harry snorted.

“I could look like the Queen of Shiva and Luna would still know that it's me,” Harry replied as he smiled at the blonde girl, and she beamed at him.

“It's your expression, Harry, I can always tell when it's you,” she replied in the same airy tone, “like I know that you're a werewolf now, and that man there is a little bit in love with you.”

Both Harry and Ulrich went red at that.

Of course, Harry had known for some time that Ulrich was interested in him—he had never been exactly subtle in his interest—but it was far too soon after Remus for Harry to even entertain jumping into a relationship with someone else. Harry coughed once to clear his throat, and instead of responding to her statement, he pressed on.

“Er, you see, the thing is, I've been sort of thrown into a teaching position with the, er, pack, and we need wands for the kids, but I'm pretty sure Greyback won't be comfortable with me inviting a witch or wizard to the territory—too much bad blood and all that. Do you have any suggestions, or maybe I should ask Ollivander?”

“Mr Ollivander is home today, it's just me in the shop. Poor thing, he's not well,” she said sadly, then leant in, “he's got Flittery Fiz-Bister Fairies in his hair, it's addling his mind something awful.”

“He's got what?” Ulrich whispered, and Harry did his best not to laugh.

“I'll explain later,” Harry replied, then turned his attention back to Luna. “So, any ideas?”

“Actually, I do. It's something Mr Ollivander was working on before he got ill. You see, sometimes children for some reason or another are unable to come to the shop to choose a wand themselves, and Mr Ollivander wanted to be able to make house calls to those people, but obviously he couldn't bring his whole inventory with him.” She paused, ducked under the desk, and pulled out two ordinary-looking leather suitcases. “He calls them the vanishing cases. Like those vanishing cabinets that caused so much trouble during my fifth year.”

“How do they work?” Harry asked, cocking his head a bit to the side as he looked at them. By her description he had a fairly good idea, but he wanted to be certain.

“Watch.” Luna opened the cases, both of which were lined with purple velvet, and picked up a quill. She placed it in one of the cases and snapped it shut, then a moment later it materialized again in the still-open case.

“Brilliant,” Harry breathed, and grinned at her, while she was still smiling dreamily at him. “I'd like to try it with the kids, if that's all right.”

“Oh of course, Harry!” she said brightly, “I'll need it back after, Mr Ollivander wouldn't be pleased if I lost one of his cases, but of course you can borrow it!”

“Thanks, Luna,” Harry said while he beamed at her, “you're a lifesaver.”

It took another forty-five minutes to organize a time to try it out, and the best way to communicate back and forth while they were using the cases. After Harry paid a fee for the cost of thirty-seven wands, he took one of the cases and Ollivander's special measuring tape, and bid Luna goodbye.

“I'll talk to you next week then,” Harry said as he turned towards the door, “and thanks.”

“Of course Harry,” she replied with a smile, “I'm always happy to help a friend.”

Harry beamed at her, and with a still-agitated Ulrich at his side, they stepped out of the shop, and much to the dominant's delight, they headed home.

~*~

In the week that followed, Harry found himself deeply grateful for the distraction of organizing the lessons for the werewolf pups. Those scant few moments when his mind was unoccupied, it would instantly stray back to Remus, and with that, Harry realized one singular, horrible thing.

Harry missed him.

Deeply.

On the nights when sleep did not readily come to him, he remembered everything of that first year—their first kiss, Remus's patience with him after the incident when they had no choice but to be together, the first time they had sex, Remus's tender care when he was healing from their kidnapping—everything.

How had it gone so wrong? Harry wondered miserably, and he would bury his head beneath his pillow to keep him housemates from hearing his soft, shuddering sobs.

Harry spent his waking hours of that week corresponding with Luna through the case, and they had finally made ready all that they needed to get the pups their wands.

That bright Friday afternoon, Harry found himself in the centre of the territory with the case set down in front of him, and a line of kids anxiously waiting to try out some of Ollivander's wands.

Harry felt mildly daunted by the line of hopefuls in front of him, and motioned for the first to come forward, a blonde girl with her curly hair pulled back in pigtails.

“Hi Harry,” the girl said nervously, “I'm Gina, I'm twelve. Am I really going to get a wand today...really?” Her bright blue eyes shone excitedly, and Harry chuckled at her enthusiasm.

“'Course. Now, hold still, I need to take your measurements for Miss Lovegood, all right?” Harry asked, and she nodded. It felt a little odd referring to Luna as Miss Lovegood, but he tried to ignore the feeling while he flicked his wand and the special measuring tape began its work, measuring the lengths of her arms, the distance between her fingers, her height, around her head, and practically everywhere else.

Gina giggled as she watched its progression, then just as abruptly it stopped, and crumpled in a heap on the ground. A sheet of parchment detailing the measurements materialized before them, and Harry snatched it out of the air to add her name and age. “Are you left or right handed, Gina?” Harry asked belatedly, and she looked down at her hands, as though she was uncertain.

“I...don't know.”

“Well, which hand do you write with?” Harry asked patiently, and she shrugged. Oh, shit. Harry thought, then asked weakly, “can you write?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“Okay,” Harry said with a heavy sigh as he raked his hand through his hair, then handed over his own wand to the girl, “try holding it in each hand, and tell me which is more comfortable for you.”

Gina accepted the wand and held it in her left hand, then her right, then back to her left. She did this several times, then finally held up his wand in her right hand.

“This one,” she said, and Harry offered her a small smile.

“You're right-handed, then,” he said, and made a note on the parchment. He then opened the case, placed the note in, and snapped it shut. “May I have my wand back, Gina?” he asked, and flushing a little, she handed it back to Harry.

As Gina handed back his wand, the case glowed a soft blue, and Harry opened it back up to find a stout wand and a note.

Hawthorn and dragon heartstring, 5¾ inches. Good for charmwork.

“Here you go, Gina,” Harry said with an encouraging smile as he lifted the wand out and held the handle towards her, “hawthorn and dragon heartstring. Give it a wave.”

A little uncertainly, she accepted the wand from Harry and gave it a small wave. When nothing happened, Harry saw her face fall a little.

“Not to worry, Gina,” Harry said as he took it back and noted that the wand hadn't worked, before snapping it back into the case, “the wand chooses the wizard...er, witch, in this case. I tried dozens of wands before I found one that suited me.”

“Really?” She asked, her voice soft and uncertain, and Harry nodded with a grin.

Another wand appeared in the case with yet another note.

Larch and unicorn hair, 7½ inches, nice and bendy.

Harry drew it out, repeated the note to Gina, and offered her the wand's handle.

It took six more wands before Gina found her match, and she squealed with delight as a shower of green sparks shot out of the 8½-inch holly and dragon heartstring wand.

“Congratulations, Gina,” Harry said with a grin. “Now, don't fiddle with it too much, you don't want to hurt yourself. Promise me you'll wait until we start our lessons before you try anything on your own?”

“I promise,” she said, her tone a little breathless as she lurched forward and hugged Harry tightly. “Thank you, Harry.”

She let him go and darted off before Harry could properly respond, and the next pup stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear.

It took the better part of four hours to make it about halfway through the line of kids before Luna sent a note ahead saying that they needed to stop. The kids that were left let out agonized moans, and even with Harry's promise that they'd pick it up tomorrow didn't seem to placate them very much.

As they all headed off for the evening, Harry slumped back against the log he'd been sitting on with a heavy sigh.

“Great job, professor,” a voice above him said, and Harry looked up to see Ulrich standing there. “The pups are thrilled.”

“I think I got more than I bargained for,” Harry muttered as he straightened up a little. “How come so many of the kids can't read or write?”

“Most of the pups here are born werewolves, not turned ones,” Ulrich explained as he sat next to him, “there's not much call for it when you live out here. Some of the subs have tried to teach them, but until now most of them hadn't really been interested in learning the skill.”

“Well, I'm going to have my hands full, to say the least,” Harry replied, and picked up a small pebble off the ground, which he promptly chucked into the bonfire.

“Better to keep busy when you're...” Ulrich stopped himself short, given that the moment Harry figured out what he was going to say his face fell, his thoughts returning to Remus in a split-second. It felt very much like a hand was squeezing his heart, and Harry felt his throat grow tight. “Fuck, Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—”

“—no, it's all right,” Harry interrupted, but winced at the croaky quality to his voice. “It hurts, but it's all right. I just wish I could get over him. I thought when the bond broke everything would go back to normal, but—” Harry's voice wavered and died as his eyes flooded with tears. “Fuck,” he said with a soft, forced laugh, and tilted his head up in an effort to keep the tears from falling.

“It's normal,” Ulrich replied gently, “when someone you care about betrays you, it's hard. Even if they think doing something is in the person's best interest, making decisions like that...well, you end up with messes like this.” The dominant hesitated for a half-second, then reached down and gave Harry's wrist a gentle squeeze. “If you want to talk or vent, I'm here. I want...I want to be your friend.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied weakly. “Everyone out here...you're like a big family. Everyone takes care of everyone else.” Harry's eyes strayed over to where Bryce was returning from a hunt with a handful of other dominants, each of them carrying a deer over their shoulders as though the carcasses weighed practically nothing. “Well, almost everyone,” he amended.

“Don't let Bryce get to you,” Ulrich said firmly, drawing Harry's attention back to him. “He had an old-fashioned view of the world, and thinks that it's his birthright to take a sub to his bed, instead of treating him like a real person. Very few dominants actually agree with him.”

“Well, that's something, at least,” Harry replied, uncertain why he suddenly felt so uneasy. Talking with Ulrich was comfortable, and he felt just as at ease with him as he did with all the other submissives he had met so far. Considering all the other dominants (except perhaps Greyback) made him incredibly nervous, that was really saying something.

“I need to see to my duties, Harry,” Ulrich said, and reached out again to offer Harry's shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “If you need anything, don't hesitate to come talk to me, all right?”

“Yeah, all right,” Harry replied, forcing a small smile. Ulrich returned it, then stood and walked off. Harry followed his progression across the territory for a moment, but was jarred from it by a low, lewd whistle. Three seconds later, Tavish dropped down next to him on the log.

“Lucky you,” he jested, “having the Beta of our fair pack all to yourself. I mean...damn.”

“I don't have anyone,” Harry replied with a soft snort, “he's just being nice.”

“Yeah, and next you'll tell me that Alpha invited Adina to his cabin last night to play checkers,” Tavish quipped with a snort. “He's got it bad for you, mate. Why don't you go for it?”

“It's too soon, I'm still in mourning,” Harry protested weakly, looking away from his friend to the bonfire with a small frown, “everything reminds me of...him. I thought if I was out here I'd be able to forget him quicker, but he...he's still all I think about. The second I'm not preoccupied with something, I remember him.”

“And what better way to distract yourself than with a warm body next to yours at night?” Tavish asked, and Harry snorted. “I mean it, Harry,” he said, his voice dropping the jocular tone, “wallowing like this isn't healthy, and Remus isn't worth it, not after all the shit he put you through. You deserve someone who will dote on you—who won't hurt you.”

Harry grunted, but didn't offer up a proper response.

~*~

With Luna's help, Harry managed to finish handing out wands to the rest of the kids the following afternoon. Unfortunately for them, he was unable to dive straight into teaching them magic, given that first he had to teach them to read and write, which was painfully dull for both Harry and his pupils.

The upside to it was that despite how tedious the work was, it kept his mind occupied, and he was able to almost forget about Remus and his own inner turmoil.

The fact that he hadn't followed Harry to the territory—or even tried to contact him—certainly helped, but Harry couldn't help but feel a little hurt at that at the same time, which was both confusing and frustrating at the same time. Not for the first time, he vehemently wished that he could just snap his fingers and get over him.

“These things take time, Harry,” Tavish said consolingly, after Harry had finished venting his frustration to his friend. They were sequestered away in the Sub House with the other subs to ride out the vicious thunderstorm that raged outside, but given that most of the females had clustered around Jade, all of them tittering excitedly about how her pregnancy was coming along, Harry and Tavish had been left in peace to talk amongst themselves. “You can't just...make it go poof,” he continued with a small wince, “you have to work through the pain.”

“I wish I could,” Harry muttered miserably, and picked at a loose splinter on his bedpost. “I'm just...I don't want to lo—to think about him anymore.”

Tavish smiled at him sadly, as though he could see right through Harry's quick emendation. He flushed scarlet, but thankfully, he seemed to understand that Harry wasn't overly keen to discuss it.

“Well,” Tavish said, “if it helps, I know of something that'll distract you...”

“Oh yeah? And what's that?” Harry asked with a note of sarcasm in his voice. If he brings up Ulrich again I'll thump him, he thought while he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his friend, and he cracked a small, humourless half-smile.

“Your first moon is next week.”
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Lunaticus Book Three: New Moon Rising