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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
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Chapter 6 – Red Eyes on Orange Horizons

The moment Remus's eyes caught Harry's, Harry watched as all the colour drained from the werewolf's face.

The reaction made Harry feel physically ill. Was Remus disgusted by him? What could have possibly happened that was so bad that it would cause him to act this way? Harry moved as if to go to him, but with Greyback was still holding him up, he could do little more than lurch forward slightly.

Remus's eyes glazed over as though he was close to tears, and
4he took several steps back while Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to call out to his partner, but his voice refused to cooperate. He could feel his throat tightening, and Harry took several slow, steadying breaths—the last thing he wanted was to burst into tears in front of Greyback.

“Potter, let me look at you,” Greyback growled, the voice so stern that Harry did not even think to disobey it. His gaze whipped to meet the werewolf's ice-blue stare, his eyes narrowed, and he grabbed Harry's jaw in a weathered hand to still his movements as he studied Harry closely, his eyes flitting back and forth across his face, taking in every detail. He hissed a curse and turned to his gaze to the assembled crowd. “Ulrich, take Potter to the supply cave, and give him The Drink. Do not leave his side.”

“Wait,” Harry choked out at last and his gaze whipped back to Remus as Ulrich, Greyback's Beta, stepped forward and took Harry by the arm. He dragged him off without a word while Harry tried calling out to Remus again. “Wait, Remus!” Harry pulled against the hold, but it made no difference.

“So,” Greyback growled while the crowd parted quickly to allow the Alpha to get to Remus more easily. Remus yelped when Greyback reached him and lifted him into the air by the throat, “when you swore that you'd done as I told you and turned him, and your mate had chosen a life away from a pack...what you really meant was you ran off with your tail between your legs.” He threw Remus to the ground, and he landed in a heap. Struggling to his feet, he looked up at Greyback miserably.

“Alpha, please...” Remus began, but yelped again as the man answered him with a sharp kick in his gut, causing him to cough and gag.

“You are fucking lucky that you didn't block the bond, or Potter would be in even worse shape than he is now. I told you....”

But whatever Greyback had told Remus Harry did not find out as Ulrich had dragged him well out of earshot. Frowning miserably, Harry finally turned around and followed the larger man's lead to the cave.

Ulrich forced him down onto a log that seemed to double as a seat, and pressed a water skin into his hands.

“Drink that, you'll feel better. Fenrir will be back soon with your...mate.” He looked strangely displeased as he spoke the word, and if Harry didn't know better he almost thought that it was jealousy that he was seeing in the werewolf's eyes. He stepped towards the mouth of the cave, his arms crossed, and Harry watched him for a long moment before he shook his head and returned his attention to the skin in his hands.

Harry uncapped it and upended the skin into his mouth, and nearly choked when it wasn't water that splashed across his tongue, but some kind of sour ale. The taste of it nearly made Harry heave, but he obediently drank it down, and found that instead of the drunkenness he'd expected from all but chugging the vile drink, he found his head clearing, and he felt stronger.

As he set the empty skin on the ground next to him, he heard the low hissing of voices approaching him. Even at a distance there was no mistaking Greyback's strong, confident stride, or Remus's hobbling limp as he followed the Alpha. It was quite clear that Greyback had slapped him around a great deal more after Ulrich had dragged him off, and Harry couldn't decide whether he felt pleased about this or not. There was no denying that Remus deserved it and worse for what he'd done, but at the same time Harry couldn't help but feel his heart lift a little at the sight of him approaching.

They drew closer and Harry could see Remus's face more clearly; he was acutely aware of the pained expression upon his face while he looking on to Greyback as he whispered fervently to the Alpha. Just barely out of earshot Greyback growled and whipped around to grab Remus by the throat. Harry tensed and watched the pair with wide eyes while and the larger werewolf leant in the murmur something in Remus's ear. Whatever he said made Remus blanch, and as Greyback pulled back Harry heard the tail end of Greyback's promised threat to his partner, “...either deal with it, or I will.” He released Remus with a sharp shove and stalked off, his tense, jerking movements gave Harry the impression that he was well beyond furious. He barked at Ulrich to follow him, and the Beta hastened to obey, leaving the couple alone.

Remus did not move for a long time. He stood at the mouth of the cave and stared at Harry as though he was some sort of wild, rabid animal. The expression upon his face hurt almost as much as Remus's departure had, but fat last the older man walked slowly forward, still determinedly avoiding Harry's eye. He sat down heavily next to Harry on the log, though there was still a good foot of space between the pair.

Harry stared at him, his eyes clouded as he fought off tears, and he realized that he had absolutely no idea what he wanted to say—or do. Remus's left cheek was swollen, red, and tinged purple, and he had a feeling that under his clothes there were a number of other bruises, if his limp had been anything to go by.

As they sat there in painfully awkward silence, Harry longed to shift closer to Remus, cling to him and beg him to never do that to him again, while another part of him longed to hit him as hard as he possibly could. The silence stretched on, and quite suddenly his anger drained away and was replaced with an all-encompassing sorrow. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and curled his hands into fists; when the hell had he become so weak-minded?

Harry couldn't take the silence anymore, and he mustered up the courage to speak, voicing the question he'd asked himself over and over for the last few weeks.

“Remus?” Harry asked, his voice sounding very small in his ears and much more timid than he'd intended, but he found that he couldn't muster any anger to make it sound more forceful. The werewolf's head snapped up, his eyes wide at Harry's tone. He pushed forward, but despite Harry's best efforts he still sounded pitiful in his own ears. “Why did you leave me?”

Harry looked away quickly when he felt tears pricking his eyes, feeling both anguished and frustrated with himself. He'd never been this weepy before, what on earth was going on with his mental state?

Harry shook his head a little and buried his face in his hands. He was so confused and disoriented; Harry had thought that finding Remus would fix things, but he felt, if possible, even worse. He did not know how much time had passed since he'd spoken, but suddenly he heard Remus's voice pulling him back to the surface of his mind and the sound of it was thick with guilt.

“Oh Harry,” he breathed, and suddenly hands were on him. Harry's eyes flew open to find Remus kneeling before him, the sorrow in his eyes mirroring Harry's own, overlaid with genuine guilt over what he had done. He held gently onto Harry's upper arms as he murmured, “I'm so sorry.”

Harry threw himself at Remus and clung to him as though his life depended on it. He buried his face in the crook of Remus's neck and inhaled deeply, letting his senses bathe in Remus's presence. It had been so long, Harry felt like a parched man in a desert who had suddenly come upon an oasis. Tears stung his eyes again, and his hold on Remus tightened slightly.

Remus's arms wrapped gently around Harry's waist and held him, and Harry could feel Remus mirror his actions as he buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck and he inhaled deeply. His hands tensed on Harry in a possessive hold, and he heard a low growl escape the werewolf. He didn't need to look up to know that another of the pack must have approached them, both the vocalization and the way Remus held him was telling enough.

When the older man seemed marginally calmer, Harry pressed his hands against his shoulders and pushed gently, and reluctantly Remus let him go. Harry held him at arm's length, both of them still kneeling on the ground, but neither seemed to care. Harry needed to focus, he needed to understand this, but he found that his emotions were still running wild, and keeping himself composed was much more difficult than he expected it to be.

“Why did you leave me, Remus?” he asked thickly, repeating the question, “why did you do that to me? Why—” Harry cut himself off with an angry hiss, and lifted his hand up to his eyes. He pressed his thumb and forefinger against his tear ducts and took several slow breaths before he tried to continue. In that time, Remus lurched as though he longed to comfort Harry, but seemed to think better of it at the last moment and hung back while he watched him miserably. It was a moment of painful déja vu for Harry has he recalled those months that Remus tried to help him move past the incident and for a moment Harry felt incredibly nauseous.

“What have you done to me?” Harry hissed, caught between anger and sorrow as he continued to struggle to focus, “I just—I want to hate you Remus, but I can't.”

Harry looked up to the shamefaced older man, and hoped that Remus understood the meaning behind his words. HHarry wasn't being metaphorical in the least; he literally could not summon any hatred for the man after what he'd done. What was going on?

“Oh Harry,” Remus breathed while he lifted a hand to brush Harry's cheek gently. He leant into the touch, and continued to watch Remus miserably. He'd done something, Harry was sure of it, he just couldn't work out what. “This is all my fault, but...I—I can't go home with you.”

At his words, Harry felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

“But—but why? Remus, you were adamant about not coming here, and now you won't leave? That makes no sense! Remus, is Greyback forcing you to stay here, because that's not—”

“—No,” Remus said, “Harry, I—I want to go with you, but I can't. It's too risky. Alpha told me that you were suffering from Anima Conversio but—but I didn't want to believe it.” Harry's breath caught when he saw Remus's eyes glaze over. “Your dreams were the first sign of a partial turning. My...reactions, my claim marks made sense when you confided in me and I just...things would have gotten worse if I'd stayed. Harry, please, if I'd stayed you would have certainly been turned and I couldn't let that happen to you.”

Harry felt suddenly cold, shock and fear overlapping his other emotions as he stared down at Remus with wide eyes. Considering all that had happened lately, it did not come as a complete surprise, but it was still difficult to hear.

“But...how?” Harry asked at last, while the pair slowly got up at last and moved back to the log, their hands tightly intertwined. “Moony never bit or scratched me, so how could this be happening?” Remus sighed heavily, and Harry assumed that since he bolted, this had been weighing heavily on Remus's mind, given how sorrowful he looked following Harry's question. He carded his fingers through Harry's hair, and Harry's eyes fluttered shut as he leant into the touch.

“It's complicated Harry,” he began, the hand stopping to rest at the back of his neck, and he stroked the skin there lightly. “It does not happen very often with werewolf-human bonds, sort of a one-in-a-million kind of thing.”

“God knows the rare and unexplained never happen when I'm involved,” Harry muttered, and Remus smiled weakly.

“When a human with a powerful magical core mates with a werewolf in a bond like this, the presence of the werewolf magic will cause the human's magic to respond with equal dominance in the only way it knows how—by taking some of the werewolf into itself,” Remus said, his voice thick with emotion, and nowhere near the old Professor tone of voice Harry had grown so accustomed to hearing when Remus would explain a concept to him. That alone told Harry just how terrified Remus was of this Conversio thing. The hand at Harry's neck trailed down his back and refastened itself at his hip and held tightly onto Harry, as though afraid he might suddenly disappear. “But if you are turned, you will not be a dominant werewolf, you will be a submissive one, and that could end very badly for you.”

“Badly how?” Harry wasn't certain he wanted to know, but at the same time, he knew that he needed to know.

“Turning you...it would dissolve our bond and you may feel differently about...about me if you are turned. You may not want to continue our...relationship.” It took Harry a great deal of effort to keep from sputtering with disbelief at the words and the look he saw on Remus's face in that moment.

“Remus,” Harry said gently, “given the choice, is there any reason I would want to continue our relationship now?”

The words caught his attention, and his gaze snapped over to meet Harry's, his eyes wide with shock and hurt.

“W-What?”

“Instead of staying and helping me, you left me Remus,” Harry said, all attempts at keeping his voice steady were lost as he stared up at him. All he wanted to do was kiss the man and hold him close, but at the same time...he didn't. “I love you. Right now, I wish I didn't, but I do believe that I will always love you, whether I want to or not. Bond or not, werewolf or not, I love you. And I'm fairly certain that that won't change whether I'm human or...something else.” Harry's voice could not help but tremble a little at the end. Did he really want to be a werewolf, or was this another thing he would be forced to do whether he wanted it or not? He held more tightly to Remus as the thoughts plagued his mind.

“I don't know if I'd want that or not,” Harry continued in a rush, hoping that Remus would understand what he meant, “I mean, to me, the dreams were just that...dreams. I had no idea what they meant, and I've wanted to tell you for ages but...I was afraid of how you'd react.”

“I'm sorry, Harry,” Remus said again, looking even more guilty following Harry's pronouncement. “Your dreams and my reactions clicked together when you told me about them...I do not want to curse you with this.” Harry stared at him with confusion, but he elaborated quickly, “the way I'd bite you—mark you. It was the wolf essentially staking claim on you, as though to say that you were mine to turn.” Harry tensed, and he shifted closer to press his cheek into Remus's shoulder. Remus tightened his hold on Harry in turn, one hand moving to rub his back, the other holding him close.

“Do I have any real choice in this Remus?” Harry asked softly. He felt so utterly lost and afraid, and his head spun as his panic began to set in. The idea that his choice in this—like so many other things in his life—might be taken from him scared him more than the idea itself of being turned. Harry breathed slowly in an effort to calm down, but it only succeeded in amplifying his fear. A rough hand against his cheek snapped him back to reality, and Remus pulled him in for a rough kiss. Despite the circumstances, Harry could not deny that it made his heart soar to feel Remus kiss him again.

“You do, Harry,” Remus said firmly, “the wolf in me can recognize that you are not ready or willing to be turned. Above all, pair bonds that turn the other are based in consent and trust, not in an unwilling infection,” Remus said firmly, but Harry frowned, not entirely sure he believed that. It seemed to fly in the face of everything he knew about werewolf culture.

“What about Greyback? Something tells me he doesn't exactly agree with that sentiment,” Harry replied, and Remus's hand stilled on his cheek; he looked away with a frown.

“He wants me to turn you,” Remus murmured, his voice so low Harry almost didn't catch it. “The dreams will continue until I do—and they aren't like normal dreams, they will become physically taxing if it goes on for too long—and he believes that you will be a very strong werewolf. If I stall on it too long, he's threatening to turn you himself.” At the words, Harry felt a shiver rush through him, and he held more tightly onto Remus.

“I—I don't know what I want with this,” Harry breathed, looking up at Remus with wide, frightened eyes. “But if I have to be turned...I'd rather it be you.” At his words, Remus looked almost mournful, and he pulled Harry in for another kiss.

Unlike their earlier kiss, this one was slow and drawn out. Harry fisted Remus's hair and parted his lips, and at once their tongues twisted together, tasting each other for the first time in months. Harry moaned softly, his body flush with desire for the man that held him. It had been so long—too long since he'd felt this way.

“Harry...” Remus breathed as he slowly pulled away from him and stared at Harry with a mournful expression. “I...you need to go. You need to get out of here,” his voice broke a little and Harry felt himself go cold at the words. “Please, please believe me when I say that I want you to stay, but I need to stop this from happening, and you're not safe here. Not safe from me, or from...anyone else.”

Harry knew that by anyone else Remus likely meant Greyback, but Harry couldn't care less if he ran the risk of running into Voldemort out here, he wasn't about to leave now.

“No chance,” Harry said at once, his voice harder and more firm than it had been throughout their talk. “Remus I just found you again, why the hell would I leave?”

“Harry, please don't make me drag out out of here,” Remus said, his gaze hard with warning.

“Like you could,” Harry replied in challenge, “if you drag me out of here I'll just come back. And I'll come back again and again. I won't lose you again Remus, understand? I won't, not again. We can work this out together,” Harry's forceful tone softened, but his hold on Remus tightened slightly. “You don't have to be alone.”

Remus answered Harry with one word.

One word, and his wand.

“Obliviate.”

~*~

The first thing that Harry was aware of was pain. His head was throbbing, and his body felt heavy, as though he'd been abruptly woken up from a very deep sleep. The second thing he was aware of was that he was in his own bed, with no recollection of how he'd gotten there. He groaned, and he could hear the soft muffle of voices close by. Though he was aware that they were speaking clearly, he could not for the life of him figure out what they were saying. As the fog in his mind dissipated, the words began to make more sense.

“Ron, Ron! Get in here! Harry's waking up!” Hermione's words cut through him, and he felt momentary confusion. Where was Remus? What had happened? Harry's brow knitted together as he struggled to remember, but the memories refused to stay in place, and there was darkness were once he was certain there had been a memory.

“Harry!” The door banged open, and Harry slowly opened his eyes. The hazy outline of the ginger was visible in the doorway, illuminated by strangely blinding sunlight that poured in his bedroom window. “Mate, are you all right?” Harry ignored the question and pawed blindly at his night stand, then felt his glasses pressed into his hand by Hermione. He mumbled his thanks as he pulled them on, and his two best friends came into sharp focus as he sat up.

“What happened?” He mumbled, looking from one to the other, while he tried to focus on what had happened, but his mind was still strangely blank. “Where's Remus? I—I went to find him, and...” Harry shook his head, and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes in an effort to focus, but it didn't help. “I can't remember,” he looked back up at his two friends. “Why can't I remember? Where's Remus?” Harry felt his voice crack, and while he was vaguely aware that he was repeating himself, he didn't really care. Why wasn't Remus with him, and why were Ron and Hermione there instead? Harry groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“We came by to check on you, and you weren't here. We were working on a Locater Spell to find you, when we heard someone Apparate on the front step,” Hermione was talking so quietly it was almost a whisper, but in the dead silence of the house, Harry caught every word. “Whoever it was Disapparated almost at once, but left you behind, unconscious. We brought you inside...you've been out for almost twelve hours.”

Harry reached over and grabbed Remus's pillow, pulled it into his lap, where he hugged it tightly to his chest.

“Remus...” Harry whispered softly, his voice broken. He knew it had been Remus that had brought him back here...but, from where? Harry groaned and buried his face in the pillow. It still smelt faintly of him, but after so long away, the scent of his partner was almost completely gone.

“Harry, can you tell us what happened?” Hermione's soft voice cut through his muddled, anxious thoughts, and he looked up to her, blinking with confusion. For a moment, even though he knew it was Hermione, she also felt like a stranger.

“I don't know...I went to try and find Remus...and I woke up here. I remember that we talked—” Harry cut himself off with a grimace. He wasn't certain that he was ready to explain what his strange dreams actually meant, and bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from elaborating further on that particular topic, “—but I can't remember anything else. I can't even remember where we were.” Harry groaned again, and hugged the pillow more tightly.

Harry felt the bed dip and a hand brush across his forehead. He flinched from the contact; it wasn't Remus touching him, and somewhere in the back of his mind that seemed wrong, somehow. “Harry,” Hermione's delicate tone cut through the silence, “I—I think Remus used a Memory Charm on you. I don't know why, but I'll try to find out, all right?” Harry nodded silently as he lay back down and curled his body around the pillow in an effort to spoon it. Hermione's weight lifted from the bed, but he did not look towards her while she whispered something to Ron and left.

In the silence, Harry tried to work through Hermione's words. Remus had used a Memory Charm on him—someone Harry trusted implicitly had stolen some of his memories. Harry hugged the pillow more tightly. The details were few and far between, but it was enough that Harry could guess he didn't want Harry to find him again. He felt his eyes brim with tears. Did Remus really hate him that much?

“Mate,” Ron's apprehensive voice cut through the silence, “you should probably eat something, you've been out for a while...” he trailed off uncertainly and fell silent.

“'M not hungry,” Harry mumbled, not even turning to look at his longtime friend.

“Harry—”

“Please Ron, just...I want to be alone.”

Silence followed his words, and finally Ron left, the door snapping shut behind him. Only when Harry heard the ginger's footsteps fade down the hall did he allow his resolve to crumble and he wept.

Never in his life had he felt so hollow, so broken. Why would Remus do this to him?

Harry took a shuddering breath, and clutched to the pillow more tightly. His tears that stained the pillow seemed to mute the scent of his lost partner, and the disconnect Harry felt made him feel cold. It was an unsettling, unnatural chill that was physical as well as mental, and for a brief moment Harry wondered if somehow a Dementor had gotten into the house. His breath escaped him as a wheeze, and Harry tried to calm himself down as he struggled to work out why Remus would toss him aside so carelessly.

What could I have done that was so bad that he'd feel the need to wipe his location from my mind? Harry squeezed his eyes shut; I want things to just go back to how they were—we were happy, weren't we? God, I miss him so much...it's like someone punched a hole through my chest.

A sudden hand brushed through his wet hair—when had his hair gotten wet? He couldn't remember taking a bath—startled Harry from of his thoughts, and a high, unnatural whine escaped him as he lurched away from the touch. The light contact made his skin crawl and made him shudder from the sheer wrongness of it; it wasn't Remus, he could sense that it wasn't.

“No...” Harry whimpered as he curled up again, but when the hand came at him again he jerked away. Panic flared in him, a familiar, blinding panic that radiated through his every pore, and he vomited directly onto the bedspread.

Harry lay in his puddle of sick, feeling no urge to clean it up, but another's magic skittered across his flesh and the mess vanished. He shivered at the feel of the unfamiliar magic, and whoever it was spoke to him, though he couldn't make out the words, like they had suddenly begun to speak a foreign language. However, there was one word buried in the nonsense that he understood perfectly.

“# ##### Remus ## ######## ##### ####,” the voice said, “# ##### ## # ### ## ######## ## ##, ####### # ##### ####### Remus ##### #### ## #### ## #####...”

Remus.

Harry's eyes snapped open and he sat up sharply. A young woman stood there, she looked mildly alarmed, while the tall young man at her side seemed caught between anger and confusion. But they had spoken of Remus; these strangers seemed to know his mate.

“Remus?” He asked weakly, his voice croaking, and the young woman took a small step back. No, don't leave, Harry thought in a panic. These people—whoever they were—knew his mate, or knew of him at least; they might be able to help him. “Where...where is he? Please, where's Remus?”

The young woman approached him again and stroked his hair kindly, and spoke, but again it was a jumble of gibberish, and made no sense to him. The touch still felt unnatural, and Harry lay down again. He still felt very cold, and shivered as he clung to the pillow; the scent of his lost mate no longer calmed him, but instead reminded him of his abandonment.

“Remus...” Harry whimpered, and closed his eyes. He heard the low thrum of the unfamiliar voices, and slowly they faded away as the pair left him alone. Tears streaked Harry's cheeks again, while he struggled to force himself into a state of calm; he needed something—anything that would distract him from this agonizing pain.

It took but a moment for Harry to decide in his confused, terrified state, and his mind fled to the far reaches of his subconscious.

It buried itself in memories and dreams, and his body went very still.

Peace, at last.
A/N: I just want to note that I'm not angsting just for the sake of angsting, I am going somewhere with this. Until then, I'm sorry and please don't kill me.
In the meantime, if you need Remus/Harry without an insane amount of angst, please check out my new series The Twelve Days of Smutmas which includes a Remus/Harry story that is adorable fluff and smut goodness (Chapter 4, Father Figures).
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Lunaticus Book Two: Moonstruck