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Lunaticus Book Two: Moonstruck	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Remus Views: 5775 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter 5 – Lost and Found

—Harry followed the wolves' howling, answering their cries with his own, his large paws pounding heavily upon the compacted ground of the forest floor as he ran. Out of the gloom appeared a large wolf with grey and tawny fur. Harry felt his heart swell, his tail wagged excitedly as he ran forward, while Moony looked on, tail high as he waited for Harry to reach him.

Harry bumped his muzzle against Moony's, the dominant wolf letting out a low growl closer to a purr. Harry yipped softly at Moony, and Harry pressed up against his side, while Moony's head rested atop Harry's in a stance of dominance and protection. The swell of the full moon hung overhead, illuminating their domain with her blue white light—

Harry woke with a start, and for a moment he was uncertain what had woken him. He rolled over with a groan and saw Strax sitting on his bed, pecking at his upper arm, not hard enough to break the skin, but certainly enough to rouse him.

“What do you want?” Harry grumbled sleepily, and Strax hooted in annoyance, while he held out his leg to show Harry the tightly wound scroll tied there. “Oh, thanks.” Harry untied the scroll with fumbling, half-asleep fingers, then offered Strax an Owl Treat before he hooted once in thanks and flew off.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Harry sat up and pulled on his glasses, then unrolled the letter. The tiny, neat handwriting told Harry at once that it was from Hermione. He knew that she meant well, but the near-daily letters he'd been getting from her since deciding to take a more proactive approach to finding Remus was exhausting in itself. With a small shake of his head, Harry began to read.

Harry,

I've been looking into this Anima Conversio thing, and I haven't found anything that could be considered hard facts, but it's referenced in several different texts on Werewolf lore. “An affliction to the great and powerful who choose to bind themselves to one cursed with Lycanthropy,”, “punishment to he who dares to align himself with the beast,”, “a force of hand of the foulest nature,”, things like that. It seems like whatever it is, it only happens to powerful wizards. And I know you hate it when people call you that, or allude to it, but you can't deny that as the master of the Elder Wand, you are considered to be a powerful wizard, whether you want to admit it or not.

My best guess is that this is a spell or curse of some kind that will force Remus to turn you. Given the things I've found, the contents of that letter, and what was happening before he left, it seems to be the only logical explanation. Based on some of the other things that were happening before Remus left, it also seems to me as though the bond is beginning to break, which doesn't make any sense to me, since every source I could get my hands on said that breaking it was impossible. I don't know what to make of it, maybe if you find Greyback, you can ask him.

I'll be by later today to help you finalize your idiotic plan.

Love,
Hermione

Rolling his eyes at Hermione's less-than-subtle jibe at her opinion of his grand plan, Harry set the letter aside, slipped from the bed, and pulled on Remus's dressing gown. It no longer smelt of him, but wearing it still brought Harry a small comfort all the same. He headed down to the main level and nodded his thanks to Kreacher for breakfast that had been laid out, and he helped himself to some sausages, eggs, and coffee.

Following Kreacher's suggestion, the idea of seeking Greyback out bolstered Harry, and helped to keep moving forward, instead of wallowing in his depression at the loss. Greyback had to know where Remus was; he was an Alpha werewolf, after all.

Harry's new attitude also had a secondary effect of rekindling his appetite, and he was slowly gaining back all the weight that he'd lost during his depressive episode. Hermione had reminded him at least half a dozen times that if he wasn't eating properly he might pass out in the forest during his search, and he couldn't locate Remus or Greyback if he died of starvation first.

A couple of hours later, Hermione tumbled into his sitting room with an armful of books, looking stressed and harassed, but otherwise fine, which seemed to Harry like an amazing feat, considering all she has had to deal with over the last few weeks. Harry felt momentarily guilty about that fact, given that she was the one who had helped the most in putting his life back together, thus putting hers and Ron's firmly on hold.

“Tea?” Harry asked, standing up from the sofa and headed into the dining room, where they'd have more space for the research she'd brought along.

“Sure,” she said, following him in and dumping her research material onto the table. Two cups of tea and a plate of biscuits materialized on the centre of the table, and Harry sat down in the chair that a month and a half ago had been occupied by Remus. The reminder that he was gone still burned in Harry, but using his dressing gown, his chair, his teacup, they were small ways that made Harry feel like he was still connected to him, even when he couldn't see him for himself.

Hermione had barely sat down before she started nagging.

“Harry,” she began, picking up one of the teacups and brushed her thumb along the rim while she paused, looking thoughtful, “I just wanted to ask again...are you sure about this plan of yours? I mean, there are so many things that could go wrong...”

“I'm sure,” Harry said firmly as he cut her off, and she let out a huff of frustration.

“But Harry,” she protested, whipping her distraught and frustrated gaze towards him as she slammed down the cup, “how is walking into Greyback's territory alone, with no one to help you anywhere in the realm of a good idea? You could get yourself killed!”

“Hermione,” Harry said, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort and stay calm while he spoke, which wasn't easy. After everything that had happened, he felt like his emotions were completely fried. “I've told you a hundred times, if I bring someone else with me, there's a very good chance that Greyback or one of his pack members will hurt them, or kill them. He trusts me because of my—because of Remus,” he rephrased, his voice dropping to a mumble as the name on his lips made his chest ache.

“You don't know that for certain Harry,” Hermione said, though her tone had softened slightly as she looked on sadly, “you're just guessing.”

“I've been steeped in werewolf culture for over two years Hermione,” Harry said tiredly, his voice edged with annoyance, “when I say it would be dangerous for you to come with me, I'm not just saying it as some self-sacrificing...thing, I mean it. Even if I run into a werewolf that isn't Greyback, they'll know that I'm bound to a werewolf...even if—if the bond is blocked...”

“Actually,” Hermione cut in, her tone softening a little at the reprimand as she spoke, “I'm pretty sure the bond isn't being blocked, not yet, anyway.”

“What makes you so sure?” Harry asked while he stared down into his teacup. “It's miserable here without him. I just—Hermione, I need him back.”

Harry glanced back up, and he was surprised by the saddened expression he saw upon her face. More than a year ago, she was hell-bent on keeping them apart, and now she seemed more sympathetic, and less angry.

“I know he's not blocking the bond because you're conscious,” she said simply. Harry blinked in confusion and opened his mouth, but Hermione elaborated before he had a chance to ask. “In all the stuff I've read about the blocked bonds, the human of the pair pretty much shuts down. Not straightaway, but pretty quickly they just...stop. You're conscious, aware, active.” Her expression softened a little as she looked on to him. “Harry, you just miss him.”

“Then why do I feel like this Hermione?” He asked, his tone thick as he tried to force himself to calm down, though it did little to help. “One minute, I'm focused on finding him, the next I feel like the world is ending—” Harry cut himself off as he took a shaky breath and his vision began to swim.

“Heartbreak is a terrible thing Harry,” Hermione said softly while she offered him a knowing smile. “I know exactly what you're going through, because that's how I felt when Ron left.” She didn't need to explain, Harry knew that she meant during their Horcrux Hunt. The smile she wore was sad, and her eyes sparkled as though she was close to tears. She took several slow breaths before she continued. “I just...I know how it is. One minute you're fine, the next it feels like nothing will ever be right again. Love hurts, but it's also wonderful. I just...however this plays out, I want you to be happy, Harry.”

“I wish I knew what would make me happy,” Harry muttered, “all I can think about right now is finding him. But when I do...” he trailed off, and heaved a sigh.

“When you do?” Hermione prompted.

“Well, I don't know if I want to kiss him or kill him,” Harry replied, and much to his surprise, she laughed out loud.

“I think I recall having a similar reaction when Ron finally came back,” she said, and this time Harry couldn't help himself—he laughed too.

~*~

Another week of planning went by, and Harry was barred from leaving on his expedition by the arrival of the full moon. Despite his burning desire to get moving and find Remus, he knew better than to try to approach Greyback's territory during that time of the month—to call it suicide would be a massive understatement.

Harry waited impatiently for a further three days to pass. When it was at last time to leave, he left instructions with Kreacher to contact Ron and Hermione if he didn't come back within three to four days. While he didn't expect anything bad to happen, considering his luck he thought it was better to be on the safe side.

Harry only vaguely knew where Greyback's territory was; he'd only visited the forest where it was situated a handful of times, and he had never set foot in the territory itself. He and Hermione had spent a great deal of time going over the maps of the area, and made a number of educated guesses as to what was the most likely location for Greyback's territory to be situated. Ron joined them on occasion, but the did not seem to have the same knack for cartography that Hermione did, and instead kept an ear out at the Auror Office for anyone matching Remus's description.

That cloyingly warm June morning, Harry Apparated from Grimmauld Place to the edge of the wood that he'd escorted Greyback to well over a year earlier. It looked exactly how Harry remembered it; everything thick with lush greenery; towering trees were clustered close together; ferns, flowers, and other flora blanketed the soft ground, and Harry could hear the calls and rustling of the nearby woodland creatures that shared this forest with the werewolves. The early Summer sun peeked through the thick canopies, painting the forest floor with a warm, dappled light.

Though Harry was much improved since his conversation with Kreacher a few weeks earlier, he was still far from the strong and healthy young man he had once been, and he stumbled into a tree the moment he'd landed. Harry breathed deeply, almost a gasp for breath as he tried to reign in his alarm at how exhausted one Apparition trip had made him. Slowly Harry sunk to the ground, his head spinning, and he pressed his head between his knees, groaning as a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him.

It took several minutes for Harry's equilibrium to right itself, but even so when he stood his legs felt horribly unsteady. Harry shook his head several times and took a long drink from the water skin he'd brought along before he began to look around to get his bearings. He felt a faint thrill of panic run through him when he looked around, only to find that every direction looked exactly the same, and there was no discernible marker to indicate which direction Greyback's territory might lie. Harry raked a panicked hand through his hair, and drew his wand while he tried to force himself to calm down. He knew that freaking out now wouldn't help, but the rational and emotional parts of his mind refused to cooperate, and his hands trembled a little as he lay the wand flat upon his palm and murmured, “Point me to Greyback.”

The wand quivered for a moment, then spun forty-five degrees to Harry's left, pointing northwest. Smiling faintly, he pocketed his wand and set off.

The going was nowhere near as easy as Harry had hoped it would be. The the trees in the area were densely packed together, so much so that Harry had begun to feel strangely claustrophobic, and the further he walked, the more the ground shifted from soft, mossy vegetation to nearly impassable, rocky terrain. The boulders ranged in size from the size of Harry's closed fist to something close to that of a hippogriff and Harry was soon soaked with sweat and panting as he worked his way through the forest.

Above him the sun passed slowly over the sky, almost as though it was following Harry's progress, and by noon Harry was feeling dizzy and disoriented, and he was uncertain whether it was a side effect of heatstroke, exhaustion, or something else.

Panting, Harry sat down heavily upon one of the larger boulders and used the hem of his T-shirt to mop the sweat from his face. Harry took another long drink from his skin while he observed his surroundings between breaths, and his eyes caught sight of what looked like a blackberry bush.

Standing up on slightly shaky legs, Harry moved over to it and cast a couple of simple food identification charms that Hermione had taught him and thankfully his initial guess was right, and they were nothing more sinister than ordinary blackberries. Given that he hadn't expected to be walking for so long Harry hadn't had the forethought to pack any food, and by this time he was well beyond starving. He was quick to strip the bush of its fruit and ate several handfuls of the berries before he set off again.

The blackberries offered Harry the necessary pick-me-up that he needed, and the going, while just as treacherous as it had been before, it seemed easier to pick his way through the wilderness with something in his belly. However, as the afternoon slowly began to give way to evening, Harry began to worry. He'd been walking for several hours, and there was no change in the terrain to indicate that he was any closer to finding Greyback's pack within the expansive territory.

Harry tried the Point Me variation a number of times, and though it still seemed to work, the longer the walked, the more confused it seemed to get, sometimes spinning four or five times around in his hand before settling on a direction. Though Harry hadn't sensed any warding, it was quickly becoming clear that there was some kind of spell or charm keeping him out.

As full dark swallowed the forest, Harry decided that it might be best to go home and pick up the search tomorrow. Even with a lit wand he could not see very far in any direction, and it seemed a bit stupid to continue searching when he could hardly see where he was going. He felt a twinge of disappointment, but belatedly Harry thought that he should have known better than to assume it would take only one day to find Greyback's pack.

With a defeated sigh Harry straightened up, focused, and spun on the spot...only to find that he hadn't moved. Harry wobbled and nearly fell when his Apparition did not work, and blinking with confusion, he straightened back up and tried again. Nothing.

“Oh, great,” Harry muttered darkly as he glared around the territory. Clearly, there were some sort of Anti-Apparition wards in place, though how he hadn't sensed them on his way in was a mystery. Part of his Auror training had involved sensory tricks to determine what sorts of wards may be cast over an area, and the fact that he hadn't felt them meant one of two things: either the wards were exceptionally strong, or he was losing his touch, and both possibilities left Harry with an unsettling sense of disquiet resting in the pit of his stomach.

What am I supposed to do now? Harry wondered, looking around and squinting into the blackness as he raked his fingers through his hair. More or less stuck, his momentary panic eclipsed his rational thought completely, and it took several minutes to shake himself out of it and attempt to focus.

“I guess I have no choice but to go on,” Harry muttered, and cast the Four-Point spell again, using his lit wand to carefully climb a steep, rocky incline to his far left.

In the dark, all of Harry's senses seemed to be heightened, and his skin crawled with nervousness as he strained his eyes and ears for anything that might be considered a threat. He had no idea what else might be in this forest, and for all he knew some other nocturnal beasts might be roaming the wood at this time.

Harry's nervous state made it much more difficult to stay calm; every gust of wind sounded like a voice, every rustle of the leaves looked like a shadowed silhouette. His own breathing sounded very loud in his ears, and he struggled to stay quiet, in the event that an actual threat might be lurking just out of sight.

He had not gotten very far, perhaps a quarter-mile at most when Harry felt the heat of a curse just barely miss his ear and hit a tree ahead of him with a sharp crack like a gunshot. Harry yelped and dove out of the way as the trunk split apart, a great branch toppling down where he'd been standing mere seconds before. Harry whirled around lifted his wand, but at the same moment a jet of red light hit him and he was knocked back into a towering oak, and his wand flew out of his hand while his head banged against the hard wood. Harry blinked a few times in an effort to try and see in the near-total darkness, and by the light of the waning moon he was just able to make out the silhouettes of two people, their body shapes lending to the impression that a man and woman stood before him.

“Don't move!” one of them snarled as they stalked forward. The voice was decidedly masculine, and to the order Harry almost laughed; as if he had any hope in outrunning two werewolves in his state. Harry stayed still, hardly daring to breathe, and squinted as one of their wands illuminated, Harry's eyes stinging from the sudden bright light so close to his face. It took several seconds for his eyes to acclimate to the change in light, and after noting that the male werewolf held his wand in his free hand, the other brandishing his wand mere inches from Harry's nose, he looked up to take in their appearances.

They were dressed so similarly to all the other pack wolves Harry had met at the height of the Red Moon investigation, and it led him to wonder if it was some sort of unofficial uniform. They were both dressed in ragged but sturdy jeans, barefoot, with a jacket thrown on over top—though the woman also wore a thin cotton tank top underneath the dragonhide jacket she had on.

“What do we have here, Gemma?” the man taunted, his playful tone was enough to make Harry's skin crawl as he stepped closer to him, and Harry in turn pressed his back harder into the bark of the tree. Even such a small movement was enough to make his head spin, and Harry began to wonder if his tumble from the Disarming spell had given him a minor concussion.

“A little lamb who's lost his way,” chimed in the woman—Gemma in an unsettling sing-song voice. The man laughed and Harry felt his face burn at the taunt.

“Please,” Harry said, at the wolves advanced, close enough that he could pick out their features—the man was tall, broad and hair buzzed close to his scalp, and the woman was petite but strong, with fierce eyes and curly raspberry-red hair. Both wolves were eyeing him with deep distrust as he spoke, Harry's fear was quite clear to the pair as his voice cracked feebly, “I—I need to see Greyback, I need his help.” The desperation in Harry's tone seemed to give the pair pause, and they stared down at Harry with similar looks of incredulity and suspicion upon their faces.

“And why would our Alpha even pause to consider helping a human?” the woman asked, her voice very close to a jeer, its tone reminding Harry of Bellatrix Lestrange. He swallowed thickly and shook himself to stay in the present and not fall back into his memories of the war as she continued. “He hates your kind; surely you know that.” Dark brown eyes bore into him, as though through a look alone she was trying to work out how honest Harry was being with them without the benefit of Legilimency.

“My name is Harry Potter,” Harry bit back a wince as he saw both pairs of eyes rake his hairline and refocus their mistrustful glares upon him. “I'm bound to a werewolf,” Harry continued shakily, “but he's left me.” Harry broke off as his voice cracked, and he glanced away from the pair for a moment. When he looked back, they had stepped closer, and Harry dug his fingers into the hard-packed soil in an effort to keep his fear in check. “I—I don't know where he is, my owl can't find him, I don't know what I did wrong,” Harry's voice took on a pleading tone no longer caring if these two saw him as weak. Nothing mattered to Harry anymore except finding Remus, and Greyback was the only potential lead he had. “I just need to find him.”

~*~

Harry should have known it wouldn't be that easy to just stroll into Greyback's territory as a human, even if he had a werewolf partner. Harry had just barely finished explaining his situation to the pair when he suddenly found himself bound and gagged, with a blindfold obscuring his vision. A strong hand hoisted him up by his tied wrists and Harry was half-led, half-dragged through the wood.

They seemed to care little about avoiding thorny bushes or sharp, narrow branches, and soon Harry could feel a number of shallow welts and scratches adorning his arms, face, and neck. With each soft hiss of pain Harry voiced, he heard one or both of the werewolves chuckle and give him a sharp yank, spurring him forward without pause.

After what felt like hours to his aching legs—though in reality it could not have been more than forty five minutes or so—Harry felt his feet touch soft, even ground, and at the same moment the man's voice sounded out.

“Alpha!” he called, “we found an intruder along the territory perimeter—human.” The werewolf sneered the last word like a curse, and Harry had to remind himself of how most werewolves had been treated by wizarding society as a whole made his attitude understandable. It still grated on Harry, especially after all he'd done over the last few years in an effort to help them.

The blindfold and gag were removed and Harry blinked several times as his eyes adjust to the soft light that filled the clearing that he found himself in. Harry grunted as he was thrown to the ground carelessly, and looked up at once, swallowing his fear as he saw the large, familiar silhouette of Greyback approaching him, closely followed by a small cluster of his packmates.

The clearing, Harry realized, was enormous. It reminded him more of a small village rather than a break in the trees, with a number of small wooden huts built onto climbing rocky mountain, a wide mouth of a cave at the far end that seemed to be filled with supplies of some sort, and in the centre of the clearing was a large bonfire. There were more werewolves than Harry had ever seen in one place, and not just big, muscular men, but women, children, and teenagers as well, all of different builds, but a good portion of them still seemed to be the werewolf stature Harry had grown accustomed to—namely large and heavily muscled. At the man's cry, Harry saw many of the small children run to different men and women around the clearing, and they hefted them up at once, holding onto them tightly as though they expected Harry to suddenly lunge forward and attack. It made Harry's heart ache a little, as such a reaction only lent to the belief that they probably suffered an attack upon their children at the hands of wizards in the past. The idea made him feel sick, and he shook his head a few times, ignoring how his vision swam when he did so, and forced himself to focus on his present predicament.

“Where did you find him Dana?” Greyback growled, while Harry squirmed in an effort to sit up. The woman—Gemma—placed a foot on his back to pin him down and still his movements.

“Just on the outskirts of the clearing, the charms our newest pack member put in place work, at least. The clearing can only be found by one who already knows where it is.” The man, Dana, nodded to someone over Greyback's shoulder, but Harry couldn't see who it was from his position on the ground.

“Small mercy,” Greyback growled as he stepped forward. “Now tell me boy, what're you...” he stopped short when he'd reached Harry, and recognition crossed his face. He lifted his arm and struck the woman across the face with his elbow, her cheekbone breaking and its sharp crack echoed through the clearing. She yelped in surprise and pain, stumbling back several paces before she fell to the ground.

“Alpha!” She protested, clutching her cheek, “what—” but Greyback cut her off at once, his hands curled into fists as though he'd love nothing more but to strike her again.

“You idiots. You absolute, shit-for-brains, idiots. Do you have any idea who you have trussed up like a turkey?”

“He claims to be Harry Potter,” said in Dana, but there was an edge of nervous uncertainty in his voice that hadn't been there before.

“He is Harry Potter, you moron,” Greyback snarled, “and even if he wasn't, do you not smell the werewolf claim on him? We do not harm our own, and that includes bound humans to our kind.”

Greyback stormed forward and Harry cringed, but Greyback did nothing more than drag Harry to his feet and cut his bonds. Harry swayed on his feet, but Greyback's hold on him kept him from toppling over.

“Potter, explain. You look like death,” Greyback said. His voice was gentler than Harry had ever heard it, and it clashed with Harry's previous impressions of the man, making him a little dizzy with confusion. He pushed his shock aside as best he could; he'd come here with a purpose, and he needed to see it done.

“Greyback,” Harry said, slightly alarmed by the hoarse desperation he heard in his voice, “you need to help me, please.” He looked up at the Alpha wolf with wide, pleading eyes, “Remus, he—” but Harry stopped short as a familiar head of grey and tawny hair caught his notice over the Alpha's hulking shoulder, and Harry felt his jaw drop.

Remus
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Lunaticus Book Two: Moonstruck