Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 5
- 6
- 7
A/N: Starting with this update, I can finally safely go up to weekly updates! Yaaaay! That being said, the next update will be June 9^th :)
Chapter Six – Try

Harry woke the following morning curled up on the cool, dewy grass, but despite the outside chill of the autumn air, he found himself almost stiflingly warm.

A large body was covering his own; Harry's cheek was pressed fast against a broad chest, and he could feel the long locks of the man's hair tickling his shoulder. The skin was tacky from sweat but not unclean, and the wiry chest hairs felt soft under his cheek. A thick arm was wrapped around his waist, and it was a warm, welcome weight against his bare abdomen, where dimly Harry felt mildly perplexed as to why he didn't feel more alarmed by this—he was more or less trapped under a huge, naked, dominant werewolf, but Harry did not feel afraid, or even marginally unnerved, which was a surprise. The scent that enveloped Harry spoke to him of power, but also of safety. Whoever it was that held him meant him no harm—Harry wasn't certain exactly how he was so sure of this, but he knew that it was true regardless.

As Harry lay there being held like an overlarge teddy bear, he thought back to the night before, and tried to remember what had happened, and what may have happened to lead to his current situation. Unfortunately, his memory was a fuzzy mess of scent and sensation, and he couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. Harry furrowed his brow as he tried to work through it, but this he succeeded in making his head hurt, instead of helping him remember.

A soft groan sounded from somewhere above him, and his companion began to stir. A large, callused hand stroked along Harry's abdomen in a gentle caress, and the rumbling growl of approval sounded almost like a purr to Harry. The sound of it made Harry's throat tighten, and his thoughts were thrown immediately back to Remus.

Remus reacted on instinct and held onto him tightly, while a low growl escaped him as he reached down to cup Harry's buttocks in his large hands. Harry squirmed with delight, a small moan escaping him as their kiss became more feverish, their lips parting and tongues tangling together...

Harry's breath hitched and tears sprung to his eyes before he could stop them.

“Harry?” Ulrich's groggy voice sounded from above him, and his arms tightened around the sub. “Are you all right?”

“F-fine,” Harry replied in a hoarse whisper, “I'm sorry, you just...reminded me.”

Ulrich growled again, but it was clearly in distress and the desire to console Harry, and not one of anger or irritation. He pulled Harry a little closer and propped his chin against the top of his head. Harry could hear other pack members around them beginning to stir, and he could smell more dominants close by. He guessed that this particular embrace as as much designed to console him as it was a display of claim, but he couldn't work out how he felt about that.

“Oh,” Ulrich mumbled in an uncharacteristically self-conscious tone of voice, and he squeezed Harry gently, “sorry.”

“It's all right,” Harry said, “I mean...as far as Hermione is concerned, it's normal.” Harry wrinkled his nose at the concept—he really didn't want to think of Remus, and the concept that it was something of an inevitability grated on him.

“What do you remember of last night, Harry?” Ulrich asked suddenly, and Harry relaxed at the subject change, grateful that Ulrich did not seem to want to discuss his reaction or Remus any further. His hand moved to rub Harry's back gently, and he tried to ignore the influx of warring thoughts in his mind, of how at peace and safe Ulrich made him feel, and the internal cry of negation that proclaimed that it was far too soon after Remus to be this close with someone. He struggled to ignore it, and focused instead on trying to answer the question that had been put to him.

“Not much,” Harry replied at last, “just sort of...feelings, not real memories. Pain, fear, distress, then...safety. Not joy exactly, but a sense of peace, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” Ulrich said, and nodded his head a little, “in time, the memories will come to you more easily.” His hand paused in the centre of Harry's back, and the rough palm pressed into his spine as he spoke, “last night...my wolf claimed you as a mate, and you accepted,” he explained, his tone halting and uncertain. At the words, mating bond, Harry felt his heart clench.

“I'm certain it'll come as no surprise to you that I've...desired you for quite a while,” Ulrich continued, his tone uncertain, “without my human conscience to stop me, my wolf sought you out last night, and you accepted my claim of you.” He paused, his hand moving to rest on Harry's hip before he resumed his explanation, “this isn't like the human-werewolf mating bonds you've been...er, exposed to before. It's not intertwined with magic, and it isn't some sort of binding, irreversible...thing. If you don't feel ready, or if you're not interested, I'll back off and we can pretend that this never happened. But it's very likely that I'll seek you out at the next moon, too.”

Harry moved to sit up, and for a moment it seemed as though Ulrich was reluctant to let him go, but he relented almost at once, and Harry pulled himself up with a soft groan. He felt weary, as though he hadn't slept, but nowhere near the bone-deep exhaustion that he had seen Remus go through at every moon. What Ulrich had told him didn't come as a shock; he supposed that on some level, he was aware of the claim—and, of course, waking up with him in something of of a lover's embrace was a dead giveaway.

Harry regarded the man that sat next to him. Any passerby on the street would probably see him and feel kind of unnerved—he was so big and strong, he thought, he's built like a warrior, he's the kind of man that looks like he could kill you with his pinkie, but there was also a kindness in those dark eyes of his...

In many ways, Ulrich reminded Harry of Hagrid, for despite his size and fearsome strength, at his core he was almost impossibly kind. However, The prospect of being thrown into a relationship with someone whom he'd only properly known for a month (the few weeks they'd met prior to that notwithstanding) was somewhat daunting. Harry wondered if he was truly ready to try and move on from Remus as he looked up at Ulrich, and took a steadying breath as he struggled to organize his thoughts into some sort of order.

“I don't dislike you, Ulrich,” Harry began while he reached up to rake his fingers through his hair, and he glanced away from the dominant when he caught the wounded puppy look that had begun to settle in his eyes. “I just...I don't want to string you along. I'm still getting over...I just don't want to hurt you by rushing into something.”

“Sometimes seeing someone new helps the healing process, instead of hindering it,” Ulrich pointed out while he reached forward to gently take Harry's hands in his own. It startled him just how little his hands looked in Ulrich's, and he was so caught up in the sight of his hands being held by someone else (someone who wasn't Remus) that it took him a moment to find his voice again.

“That's what Tavish said,” Harry muttered, and Ulrich's mouth twitched into a small smirk. He did not offer up an answer to Harry's comment, but instead leant in and brushed his lips against Harry's cheekbone. The small show of affection caused Harry's face to grow very warm, and the corners of Ulrich's mouth twitched as though he was struggling to keep from smiling.

“Think on it, Harry,” he said softly, “whatever you decide, there's no pressure.”

Without another word, Ulrich stood and strode off. Harry's eyes followed his progression, his gaze dropping almost at once to his pert, muscular arse(among other attributes), and he felt his face flame once more in embarrassment. Keen to get the image of Naked Ulrich of his mind, he scrambled to his feet and hurried to the Sub House for a wash and some clothes.

~*~

At breakfast, Harry caught sight of Hermione and Tavish sitting together and chatting amiably, and both his new and old friend beamed at him. Tavish added a suggestive wink to the look he gave to Harry; he quickly turned away when he felt his face turn red, and hurried over to the men and women that were preparing the food, and accepted a plate of spit-roasted meat and glazed apples from them.

Harry picked his way through the crowd, they all appearing worn out from their activities the night before, but overall in good spirits. He still gave the dominants a wide berth as he headed over to his friends, given that many of them were eyeing Harry as though he were on the breakfast menu.

“Well, it looked like someone had fun last night,” Tavish teased, when Harry reached them, and he blinked in confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean Ulrich following you around like a lost puppy, and making sure none of the other dominants laid a hand—or paw, rather—on you, and...what, you don't remember?”

Harry shook his head. He looked over at Hermione, who looked a little more worn out than he felt, and she smiled softly as he sat down next to her. He remembered vaguely that transformations were supposed to be harder on the dominants than the submissives, but despite her fatigue, she seemed to be her usual cheerful self as she and reached over to squeeze Harry's forearm affectionately. Harry felt his new werewolf instincts once more balk at the touch of a supposedly unknown dominant; it seemed stronger than it had been the day before, and Harry wondered if that had something to do with how he had woken up with Ulrich. Shaking his head minutely to rid himself of the thoughts, he refocused his attention on Hermione as she began to speak.

“Don't feel bad,” she said consolingly, “I don't really remember much either. More like...feelings? Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, that's how it was for me too,” Harry replied as he speared a piece of apple with his fork, and Tavish nodded his head at the pair.

“When your wolf mind and your human mind find a balance, you'll start remembering more bits,” Tavish filled in helpfully with a small, reassuring smile, “sometimes if your wolf is particularly powerful, either physically or magically, you remember stuff right away, but that's not really the norm.”

“I think that's the first time ever that Harry hasn't been singled out for being special,” Hermione teased, and Harry snorted.

“You're not wrong on that one,” Harry replied, as Hermione giggled, but Tavish did not join in on the light banter, and instead offered Harry a small half-smile.

“I dunno about that...” Tavish said, and paused as regarded Harry oddly, “your wolf form was tiny.”

“Is that significant?” Hermione asked, and cocked her head to the side curiously, “I mean...Harry's not exactly that big normally...”

“Oi, it's bad enough that Ron calls me a midget,” Harry protested, “don't you start too.”

“That's not what I mean!” Hermione replied with another giggle, “I just mean, like, since you're not all that tall, it would make sense that your wolf form would mirror that...wouldn't it?”

“Not necessarily,” Tavish said thickly around a mouthful of food, the action met with an exchanged look between Harry and Hermione. Based on the expression he saw in her eyes, likely she, too, was thinking of Ron. “You were little and white, a lot of our legends say that a wolf like that is a sign of good fortune, and they bring luck to the pack and any mate that they choose.”

“Which means—let me guess—that the dominants were all over me last night?” Harry asked dully, and Tavish's mouth twitched into a small grin.

“Bryce did try to claim you the second Alpha accepted you as Pack,” Tavish said, “but Ulrich swept in like a knight in shining armour or something and rescued you. It was the most testosterone-fuelled display of dibs I've ever seen.”

“Hm,” Harry intoned as his eyes strayed from his friends and over to Ulrich. He was sitting with Greyback and talking with him softly, their heads bowed together and their expressions deeply serious. Apparently sensing Harry's gaze on him, Ulrich glanced up and caught the submissive's eye, and offered him a small wink.

Flushing deeply, Harry quickly refocused his attention on his friends.

“Well, I'm glad there's someone around to keep you out of trouble when I'm not around,” Hermione teased, while she looked at him significantly, clearly having caught the exchange between him and the beta. Harry rolled his eyes, and tried to ignore Tavish's knowing grin while he responded to Hermione.

“Bit keen to marry me off, aren't you?” he asked while he arched a brow, and Hermione swatted his arm lightly. Though she seemed to have intended it as no more than a light tap, it appeared as though she still did not know her own strength, and the appendage jerked forward slightly from the slap.

“Oh, it's not like that and you know it, Harry,” she replied, “you deserve someone who will worship the ground you walk on, not leave when you need him most. I just think someone like Ulrich would be good for you, that's all.”

“It still feels too soon, though,” Harry mumbled while he stabbed sullenly at another piece of apple. “I just...I thought coming out here would help me get over Remus faster, but everything reminds me of him.”

“Of course it does,” Hermione said, her tone gentle and consoling, “Harry, you shared your life with him. You spent a lot of your time with him—you two did everything together. Of course it will be some time before even breathing won't bring Remus to mind. That's why I think someone new, someone who clearly cares about you might be a good step towards getting over him.”

Harry stuffed a forkful of cooked meat and apple into his mouth to avoid answering, but his friends did not appear annoyed by his lack of answer, for which he was grateful.

Hermione spent most of the day in the territory with Harry and Tavish to recover from the aftereffects of her first full moon as a werewolf. Many of the subs still seemed to be uncomfortable with an apparently unmated dominant in their midst, despite Hermione's continued insistence that she was engaged. The human concept of a pair bond did not seem to be enough for most of them however, and thus Harry and Tavish kept Hermione company well away from the other subs of the pack.

Around midday, Greyback sauntered over to them, and without even so much as a greeting to Harry ot Hermione, he crouched down to grip Tavish's shoulder and murmured something into his ear. He spoke softly enough that even Harry's heightened sense of hearing could not catch it, but the way the older man nipped at Tavish's earlobe, paired with the lewd smirk that crossed the submissive's face made it clear what Greyback was likely saying to him. Tavish did not even bother to bid Harry or Hermione goodbye as he jumped to his feet to hurry off with his alpha.

“Well...okay then,” Harry said, blinking bemusedly as he watched the pair disappear in the cluster of cabins at the opposite end of the territory.

“It's not uncommon for an alpha werewolf to claim multiple mates,” Hermione replied reasonably, answering the question that Harry never asked.

“How d'you know about Adina?” Harry asked suddenly, blinking in confusion as he racked his brain and tried to recall whether or not she had been present when he'd first heard about Adina sneaking off with Greyback.

“I could smell it,” she replied as she wrinkled her nose, “it's a bit weird, they're so...so...unapologetic with their sex practises out here.”

“I don't hear much of that,” Harry said, his stomach twisting with unease as he spoke, “I mean, with the subs, it's mostly women, so...”

“Women can sleep around, too,” Hermione cut in icily, “we're no different from men in that regard.”

“O-okay?” Harry asked, blinking at her with confusion, uncertain what he'd said that had upset her.

“I'm sorry,” she said almost at once with a soft sigh, and she raked her fingers through her hair, “I'm just a bit overwhelmed with everything, and I wish Ron was here.”

At the mention of Ron, Harry realized suddenly with a funny sort of jolt that he hadn't seen his best mate in over a month.

“How's he dealing with all this, anyway?” Harry asked, and Hermione bowed her head a little. It was almost a full minute before she spoke again.

“I think he's taking it harder than he's letting on,” Hermione replied softly, a hand resting against her abdomen as she spoke, as a pained expression suddenly crossed her face. Harry's stomach turned over uneasily at the action, it sparking as a sudden memory in his mind.

“...only female subs can get pregnant, however; female dominants are barren...”

If Hermione's body language was any indication, Harry guessed that she had discovered what Greyback had told him exactly one month earlier.

“I mean,” she continued, her voice uncharacteristically soft and small, “I think he's trying to do the brave face thing for me, but...”

“Hermione?” Harry prompted gently, “you okay?”

Hermione looked back up, and Harry saw that her eyes were flooded with tears. Harry bit the inside of his cheek, uncertain whether to spare her the pain of saying it by letting her know that he already knew, or let her get there in her own time. Before he could make a decision, Hermione began to speak again.

“A-After you left I did some research, and after I found out that I was a dominant werewolf, I read that they can't—” she broke off with a small sob, and quickly she reached up to wipe her eyes on the wrist cuff of her jumper as she continued in the same soft tone, “we can't have children. Ever since Ron and I got together, I thought about not just, y'know, us, but about having a couple of kids with him, my own little family...” a tear made it past her efforts to stem the flow, and streaked her cheek.

“Hermione...” Harry found himself uncertain what he could say to console her, just as she threw herself at him in a bone-crushing hug. Harry held her and rubbed her back while she cried, but he couldn't help the twist of guilt that settled in the pit of his stomach—this was his fault. If she hadn't gotten between him and Greyback, none of this would be happening to her.

“You could always adopt,” he said awkwardly as he continued to rub her back, “or—surrogacy, I know it's awful, Hermione, but you're not, y'know, less of a person because you can't...do that.”

“Oh, I know all of that, Harry,” she said with a weak laugh as she sat back up, her eyes still very red, “I just...I really wanted it. Ron and I are looking for a Healer and Potioneer that would be willing to try to find a fertility potion that would work for me, but so far...” she trailed off and shook her head.

“You'll work it out, one way or another,” Harry said encouragingly, and pulled her into another hug. “You're the cleverest witch—cleverest werewolf our age,” he amended, and she laughed again, the sound a little stronger this time, “I know you'll come up with something.”

“I love you, Harry,” she said, and he squeezed her gently.

“I love you too, Hermione.”

~*~

Tavish returned two hours later, his hair mussed, a dark purple mark on the hollow of his throat, and his gait was distinctly bow-legged. Greyback, on the other hand, appeared wholly unaffected by his time with the sub, though Harry thought that he seemed to be in a better mood than he had been earlier.

“Ah,” Tavish sighed luxuriously as he rejoined Harry and Hermione, “nothing like a powerful dominant plowing into your arse with his ten-inch battering ram until you completely lose your voice from your screams of ecstasy to make you—”

“—you can shut up any time you like,” Harry interrupted crossly, but Tavish merely offered his companion a lascivious grin.

“You're such a prude, Harry,” Tavish replied simply, “I'm talking here about the beautiful, natural act of two bodies coming together, or, you know, cumming together—”

“I'm not a prude,” Harry cut across him quickly in an effort to shut him up, “I would just rather not know those intimate details about our resident alpha, thank you very much.”

“Like I said—prude,” Tavish replied smoothly; Harry rolled his eyes as he changed the subject, and Tavish shrugged a little as he followed Harry's lead, instead of teasing him further, for which Harry was deeply grateful.

The rest of the day passed peacefully enough for the trio, both Harry and Tavish having been let off their usual Pack duties in order to recuperate from the moon. At dinner, once more Harry, Hermione, and Tavish found themselves off to one side, away from the other subs, most of whom still regarded Hermione with a note of unease, but if Hermione herself was at all upset by this treatment, she didn't let on.

“I have a question,” Hermione said while she picked at her stew and regarded the pair of male subs across from her, she sounding very much like the old Hermione that Harry had always known and loved. He smiled a little as he watched her address Tavish, and Tavish, in turn, lifted his gaze to meet hers.

“Yeah?” Tavish asked, his voice a little muffled from the spoon protruding out of his mouth.

“If you're with...well, you know,” she nodded towards Greyback, “how come you live with Harry in the Sub House? I thought it was only for unmated subs.”

“It's a safety precaution, same with Adina,” Tavish replied after he pulled out the spoon from between his lips, and dunked it into his empty bowl. “If we're ever under siege by rogues, or wizards, or something, the first thing that they're likely to do is go after is the alpha's mate or mates to bring him to heel. If we maintain the image that we're unmated subs, we won't be targeted as easily by the likes of them. Other dominants might see us as fair game because of that, but...no one's stupid enough to try taking Alpha's subs from him.”

Tavish grinned as he finished his statement, his expression softening a little as his eyes flitted to Greyback, who was sitting with Ulrich on his left, and Adina on his right. Harry couldn't quite call the expression that he saw on the young man's face love, but it seemed quite close. What was clear was how much Tavish prided himself in being one of the objects of the alpha's affections, though privately, Harry couldn't quite wrap his head around the concept of someone willingly sharing their partner with someone else. As he refocused his attention on his companions, he felt his face flame with embarrassment as he felt Ulrich's eyes on him. Caught between embarrassment and a strange kind of pride at being regarded in such a way, he kept his eyes on his friends in an effort to keep from overthinking his situation with the beta, for which he had yet to come to a decision on.

“That makes sense,” Hermione said reasonably while she punctuated her words with a spoonful of food, “but what about spies in the pack? Like, if someone here told the rogues or whomever who Alpha's mates were, wouldn't that cause problems anyway?”

“It could,” Tavish agreed, “but we're living in times of peace, now that the so-called Dark Lord and Red Moon are no more, we're not as worried about something like that happening. Plus, the territory's warding is very strong. It would take someone with a ridiculous amount of power to actually break through our borders.”

Harry listened to the pair chatter in thoughtful silence, not wholly paying attention to the conversation as he ate. So soon after his and Hermione's first moon, she now seemed quite keen to learn everything that she could about pack life, which didn't surprise Harry in the least, though he was mildly unnerved how quickly she seemed to have grown accustomed to referring to Greyback as Alpha. Her attitude was a far cry from how she had been in school; there, she had been determined to impose her will on others when it came to different belief systems she may not have wholly agreed with, but here she seemed quite keen to be respectful of the customs and practises of the pack.

Harry wondered vaguely if that was because pack life included her, and she wasn't separated from it by species like she had been with her spew efforts.

His eyes strayed once more from his two friends to the clusters of werewolves that dotted the territory. Most of them had congregated near the bonfire, while others had broken off in small clusters to talk quietly amongst themselves. Greyback and Adina had already disappeared, their empty bowls left behind on the log bench to be picked up by the pack's cooks. Ulrich was sitting alone, his eyes scanning the crowd very much like an on-duty lifeguard, and as his gaze flicked towards Harry, their eyes met and Harry felt as though he had become a proverbial deer in headlights. He froze under the dominant's gaze, Ulrich winked at him, and Harry felt colour once more rise in his cheeks as he quickly looked away and tried to focus on Tavish and Hermione's conversation. With Ulrich's eyes routinely shifting over to him however, Harry found it incredibly difficult to concentrate.

It was another hour before Hermione proclaimed that she needed to get home, now that the moon was over and she felt that enough of her strength had returned that she could safely Apparate.

“You need to come visit with me and Ron soon,” Hermione said earnestly as Harry escorted her to the edge of the territory, and she pulled him into a tight hug. “I don't want our friendship to fall apart because of all this.”

“Me either,” Harry replied as he tightened his hold on her, “no matter what, I don't want to lose you or Ron.”

“Oh Harry, you won't,” Hermione said with a weak, teary voice, “family doesn't end in blood, you know that. We'll always be there for you—to get you out of one mess or another.”

Harry laughed weakly, and they finally broke their hug to grin at each other.

“Send me an owl, and I'll see about visiting you guys soon,” Harry said, and she lurched forward to hug him again, then reluctantly let go so that she could Disapparate, but not before offering him one last valedictory smile, and she disappeared with a sharp crack.

Harry stared at the empty space for a long moment as he reflected on everything that had happened to him over the last month. It had gone by so quickly that in many ways it felt more like a handful of days at most rather than a full month, and Harry found himself somewhat dizzy at just how easy it had been to fall into a routine here—once he'd grown accustomed to everything, that is.

The thing that shocked him the most however, was the fact that over the last sixteen hours, he hadn't thought about Remus once.

The realization did not have the effect that Harry had hoped for, as the moment the thought crossed his mind, Remus's warm, smiling face materialized in his mind's eye. Hissing a curse, frustrated at himself for how easily the older man had reasserted himself in Harry's thoughts, Harry spun on his heel and stormed back towards the Sub House.

~*~

The following day, Harry was grateful that he had his lessons to keep his mind off things. Teaching a bunch of impatient teens and preteens how to read and write demanded his full attention to keep them on task, especially when they were all dying to start learning actual spells. Only Harry's warning that they would learn nothing until they had gotten this down seemed to keep them from skiving off their work, which was a small mercy—that and the fact that they did not have access to any Skiving Snackboxes, for which Harry was deeply grateful.

His own attention span was put to the test as well that day by the presence of Ulrich, who seemed keen to shadow him, but from a somewhat respectful distance. However, no matter how far away the man was, Harry picked up his scent with little difficulty, and he couldn't decide whether he was annoyed or pleased by the dominant's presence—if nothing else, it it least encouraged Bryce to keep his hands to himself.

Around midday, while Harry was wrestling his way through a stack of worksheets that he needed to correct, a soft grey owl fluttered into the territory and landed on Harry's shoulder.

A little perplexed, given that the owl was clearly not Pig with a letter from Hermione, he untied the scroll and the owl waited patiently while he unrolled it, and his eyebrows shot up in mild surprise as he recognized the neat, flowing handwriting upon the narrow piece of parchment.

Harry,

I was wondering if you wanted to get together soon to catch up, and I want to see how you're doing. I dunno if you're ready to visit in a place like Diagon Alley or the Burrow, so maybe we could have a walk through the forest near your pack?

Let me know,
Ginny

I guess as long as I don't let Ginny into the territory and we stick to places that the Rogues haven't been hanging around, it'll be no problem... Harry thought, and quickly sent the owl back with a note on which days would be best for him before he turned back to the stack of parchment, and resumed correcting it.

“Well, that looks like fun,” a sudden voice above him mused, and Harry glanced up to see Ulrich towering over him. Normally, such an action from a dominant would have made Harry extremely nervous, but for some strange reason with Ulrich, he never felt any of his usual anxiety. Harry could not decide whether or not this was a good thing, especially considering his recent advances on Harry. He still had yet to make a decision on that front, but Ulrich, to his credit, had not pressed him for an answer—beyond hanging around him a little more than usual, anyway.

The beta dropped down to sit next to Harry, close enough that he could feel the dominant's body heat. He looked over Harry's shoulder at the sheet of parchment in his hand, which bore line after line of the alphabet, followed by lines of simple words all written out in a shaky, inexperienced scrawl.

“Tons,” Harry replied with a soft groan, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, but unfortunately that also happened to be the hand that held his quill, and he cursed as a smear of black painted his cheek.

Chuckling, Ulrich leant in, and like a mother and young child, he licked his thumb and wiped off the ink. Harry grimaced and laughed a little as he wiggled out of the hold, but once more, Harry found himself surprised at how decidedly not unpleasant the touch had been.

“Can I help?” Ulrich asked once he settled back into his original position, and Harry eyed him curiously.

“Aren't you supposed to be monitoring the perimeter of the territory or something like that?” Harry asked with an arched brow, and Ulrich snorted a little as he shook his head.

“I'm not a sentry, Harry. Besides, I'm off duty right now. So I'll ask again: need any help?”

Harry continued to eye him with confusion, but Ulrich's warm, open expression did not waver.

“Sure,” Harry replied at last as he scooped up half of the scrolls and dumped them in the dominant's lap, then held out one of his spare quills. “Go nuts.”

Ulrich grinned and reached out to take the self-inking quill, deliberately brushing Harry's fingers with his own as he accepted it, and Harry felt his neck grow uncomfortably warm at the touch.

“I don't know what I was thinking,” Harry said conversationally a few minutes later as he finished marking the tenth scroll and set it aside, “being a professor is a lot of work, I don't know what possessed me to accept Grey—er, I mean, Alpha's assignment...”

“Probably self-preservation, considering Alpha does not offer you a task in the pack, he assigns it to you,” Ulrich replied in a simple, matter-of-fact tone. “If you had declined it, Alpha likely would have smacked you around a little for your insolence.”

“Do werewolves always have to use their fists instead of their words to solve their problems?” Harry grumbled, not looking up from his work.

“Not all werewolves do, but Alpha has to be more strict than others,” Ulrich replied in the same tone. “If he bends for you, he has to bend for everyone, and it gets chaotic. In the end it's best for the pack, so I wouldn't bitch too much about it—you don't know him like I do.” Ulrich's voice had taken on a cold edge, and Harry winced, catching on that he'd inadvertently offended him.

“Sorry,” Harry said quickly while he cast the dominant an apologetic glance.

Ulrich nodded stiffly, but did not answer, and the pair fell into an awkward silence as they returned to the task at hand. Between the two of them, it took very little time to finish off the corrections, and with a lazy flick of his wand, Harry banished the scrolls, and he watched them zoom smoothly across the territory and towards the Sub House with a small smile on his face.

Almost immediately a large, warm hand covered one of Harry's, and he jumped a little in surprise as his gaze whipped over to his companion. At his reaction, Ulrich's hopeful expression fell a little, and he began to retract his hand.

At the last moment, Harry impulsively reached for it, and once more he found himself marvelling at how small it looked intertwined with the dominant's hand. His action seemed to have stunned Ulrich into silence, and he simply stared at Harry in wide-eyed shock for a long moment, before a hopeful glint had begun to spark in his expression.

“Erm,” Harry began, and glanced up quickly at Ulrich's warm, hopeful smile before he looked back down to their intertwined hands while he tried to gather his thoughts. “I've been thinking about your offer, or suggestion, or however you want to phrase it...well, pretty much nonstop.”

“Nonstop?” Ulrich queried, and Harry felt his neck grow warm, but didn't look up.

“Er...yeah,” Harry replied awkwardly, “I mean...part of me still feels kind of not ready. After everything, it's still kind of...I still feel sort of stuck, but...well...I like you,” Harry paused and glanced back up at Ulrich. His eyes had widened a little in surprise, his eyebrows had shot up, and his chocolate brown eyes seemed to glimmer as he waited for Harry to finish speaking. Harry swallowed the last of his reservations as he said, “if it's okay with you, I mean, if you understand that I'm not entirely sure if I'm ready, but I—I want to try. I just...I don't want to hurt you.”

Ulrich's look of uncertainty dissolved as his mouth split into a wide, brilliant smile that seemed to light up his whole face. He shifted to close the distance between them at once, and he ignored Harry's soft gasp of surprise as he reached up with his free hand to rest it against the back of Harry's neck, and he brushed his lips over the sub's in the ghost of a kiss.

“Yes, Harry,” Ulrich murmured softly while he continued to smile at him with warm, unabashed adoration, “I would like that very much.”
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Lunaticus Book Three: New Moon Rising