Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Lunaticus Book One: Half Moon	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Remus Views: 18458 -:- 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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter 9 – First Date

In the week leading up to their 'first date', Harry found himself looking forward to it much more than he thought he would. The concept of closeness with Remus was still rather strange to Harry, and the prospect of a date with the man filled him with a mélange of guilt and genuine excitement.

Harry often found himself still thinking of Ginny, but the more time he spent with Remus, the more his affections for her faded, and strengthened for the older man. When he was with Remus, something as simple as an embrace would often leave him struggling to stifle smile of contentment. His efforts were not missed by Remus, who always carried a knowing glint in his eye in these moments.

Coupled with his excitement for the coming weekend was a feeling of mounting fear. With his work focused solely on the Red Moon case, he wondered often if it was a good idea to risk going out, even for something as innocent as a date. Considering how Remus had spent his adolescence, despite his quiet demeanour, it wasn't overly surprising to Harry that he still maintained an 'I laugh in the face of danger' attitude, and thus seemed to have no concerns about going out for their 'date'. Harry however, had his mind permanently fixed in an Alastor Moody frame of mind, and his watchwords of constant vigilance played over and over in his head like a recorded message.

The days passed slowly, and Harry found himself daydreaming often about what this 'date' might entail. It was a strange concept for him that he did not need to worry about the planning, Remus insisting on taking care of everything. It left Harry with something of a bruised ego, though he knew that the older man meant no offence by it.

Harry reminded himself often that it was Remus's instincts at work and not a deliberate attempt to belittle him in any way, but it did little to ease the sting. He had grown so used to being 'the man' in the relationship—that is to say, the dominant partner—that switching off and just allowing Remus to assume that role was still rather difficult for Harry. The concept of just going along with the older man's plans felt rather strange to him, and more than once he had to bite his tongue to keep his bitter remarks to himself. Part of it was genuine irritation at the expectation that he had to just go along with whatever Remus had planned. However, Harry knew that a larger part of it was stress and worry at the possibility that they were being unnecessarily reckless in going out when Red Moon were still at large.

In an effort to lighten the mood and ease his own mess of thoughts, he had begun to ask the older man at random where they were going. These attempts were met with Remus's familiar easy smile, and a kiss to his temple with the murmured words, “you'll see.”

The light, affectionate kisses left Harry wishing that the man would just kiss him properly. He had tried to muster up the nerve to do it himself, but he had yet to manage it.

In between Harry's halfhearted attempts at wheedling the details of their date out of Remus, Hermione had gotten back to him regarding his concerns about the bond.

Harry,

You need to remember (how many times have I told you?) that most couples who entered into these kinds of bonds were already romantically involved beforehand. That means most of what I can tell you is at best, an educated guess.

Have you discussed this with Remus? He might know more than I would, though, like I said, as far as I know it generally doesn't affect the potential. I'll look into it; I have a few sources in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures that might be able to help. In the meantime, try not to overthink it too much.

I'll let you know if I find anything.

Love,
Hermione

“You look almost meditative, Harry. Everything all right?” Harry's head snapped up, and his eyes found Remus at once. The man was resting his hip against the entryway to the sitting room, and his arms were crossed across his chest. He looked so completely at ease as Harry watched him, and he was momentarily amazed at the contrast between the current Remus, and the Remus that had broken in a handful of weeks earlier. The werewolf pushed off from the frame and stepped forward, while Harry folded the letter and casually slipped it into his jeans pocket.

Remus sat down next to Harry on the sofa, close enough that their thighs brushed together, and he draped an arm over Harry's shoulders. He leaned into the touch with a contented sigh, coiling his arm around the older man's middle, while he rested his head against Remus's shoulder. “Just thinking about things...this bond,” Remus's arm tensed around him and he added quickly, “not how I used to, just...I dunno, thinking about it.”

Harry tried to sort through his thoughts, both of his own feelings and desires and how quickly they seemed to be manifesting, and what he was ready to discuss with Remus. He was still afraid of jumbling up his words, causing Remus to misunderstand him as a result. Harry stared into the crackling fire as he thought it over.

The hand resting lightly against his shoulder seemed to sense his worry, and began to absently massage the muscle it found there. Harry's mouth quirked into a small half-smile, his muscles relaxing under the gentle touch.

“I just...” Harry felt himself grow a little warm, “sorry, I dunno how to say it.”

“Take your time,” Remus's reply was a little huskier than Harry would have liked in that moment. His hand moved down Harry's arm, tracing the muscles of his bicep and tricep in a casual, absent-minded sort of way. Harry shivered slightly under the contact, though he did not try to stop him. It felt nice, and he allowed himself to enjoy the light touches, instead of overthinking it.

“Just...how I feel about you,” Harry felt his face grow warm again, and the fingertips brushing against his upper arm stilled.

“I just feel like things are moving too fast. These sorts of things are supposed to take time, aren't they?” Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, resisting the urge to compare what he felt for Remus after such a short period of time had taken him nearly a year with Ginny. Something told him that the mention of his ex would not go over well, given that the bond had yet to completely settle.

Remus was quiet for a long time, his fingertips returning to their gentle, absentminded caresses of Harry's upper arm and shoulder. He stared into the fire, frowning slightly as he thought. Harry shifter closer into the embrace, doing his best to make Remus feel comforted, despite his hesitant question.

“There are few couples like us Harry,” he said at last, giving Harry a gentle squeeze. The mention of them being a couple sent a strange thrill through him as Remus continued. “Most were not thrown together so suddenly. Because of that there's no way of knowing for sure how the bond between us will develop.”

“That's what—that's what I read,” Harry felt his face flush for the umpteenth time, but Remus didn't comment on it. Hermione's name had perched precariously on the tip of his tongue for a moment before he thought better of mentioning her.

“There are records of couples coming closer after a claim has been made,” Remus touches became more bold, his hand moving from Harry's shoulder and down his spine. The appendage hovered over the expanse of skin between the bottom of Harry's T-shirt and the waistband of his jeans for a moment before it slipped under the thin cotton. His hand trailed up and down Harry's spine lazily, the skin-on-skin contact making Harry shiver, but he had no desire to ask the man to stop; it felt so good. Harry shifted a little to get more comfortable as Remus continued.

“Perhaps what you are feeling is the bond at work, or it is your own mind changing of its own volition...I'm not sure,” Remus pressed a kiss to Harry's temple, while the hand under his T-shirt moved to his hip and squeezed him gently. Harry's eyes fluttered shut, his mind going blissfully blank. He allowed himself to enjoy the sensation of warmth and safety that filled him, pushing back the part of his mind that still insisted that he shouldn't enjoy it.

“I don't know if it's the bond or not,” Harry began, his words slow and slightly slurred, the hoarse quality of his voice surprising him a little.“But if it had to happen, I'm glad that it was with you.”

Harry could practically hear the man's smile as he held him close.

~*~

The next few days passed in a haze for Harry, the only break in the monotony being his continued halfhearted attempts to get Remus to divulge what their 'date' would entail. Harry wasn't surprised when his attempts got him nowhere, but he felt too content, too happy to care all that much.

At first, it had struck him as odd, as thinking of himself and happiness in the same train of thought wasn't something that happened very often. Even with Ginny, when things had been bliss, it was always a strange concept to find himself happy, or even content. He'd spent so much time having the cause of his joy taken away so quickly it that it was always a shock to him when he finally was given time to savour the feeling.

Now, it felt as though he'd finally found something for keeps. Harry liked the idea of it, knowing that this bond-thing secured something good in his life for however long he had left to live. It unnerved and amazed him in equal measure, as in the recent past such a thought utterly terrified him, and he struggled to work out which feelings were his own, and which were the result of bond at work. As time passed however, Harry was finding that more often than not, he didn't care one way or the other.

Saturday dawned with a light misting rain dotting the bedroom window, and Harry woke feeling comfortably warm, caged in by Remus's arms. Harry shifted a little to stifle a yawn, and the slight movements were enough to rouse his partner. His warm breath tickled the side of Harry's throat, and Remus pressed a soft kiss to the column of flesh a moment later. “Morning,” he murmured, the low rumble of his voice, still thick with sleep seemed to reverberate through Harry's chest.

“Morning,” Harry had buried his face in one of the pillows, and as a result the response came out rather muffled. Remus chuckled and rested a hand on the side of his waist, giving him a small shake.

“Come on Harry,” he said softly, leaning in close enough that his breath ghosted across the back of Harry's bare shoulder. The ghost of contact made him shiver. Of all the intimate moments they'd shared thus far, Remus seemed to have figured out that these light touches, were what Harry liked best. To the attempt to get him up, Harry let out a pitiful whine, and held on more tightly to the pillow he'd buried his face in.

“It's not as much fun listening to Kreacher insult me when you're not there to glare at him, you know.” Harry snorted into the pillow, and turned his sleepy gaze to the older man, smirking a little at his blurry form.

“Somehow I doubt that, but fine, I'm up.” Harry sat up with a small groan, and accepted his glasses from Remus with a nod of thanks. The room came into focus, but Harry found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Remus, who had slid out of the bed and was stretching his arms high over his head. The sight of him made Harry feel uncomfortably warm.

Harry never had much call to notice how handsome Remus still was for a man in his early forties before, but now he couldn't tear his eyes away. Harry watched the man putter around the room as he collected his clothes for the day, and with one last warm smile in Harry's direction, he disappeared down the hall.

He hoped his flush of desire did not show on his face.

Harry dragged himself from bed when he heard the muffled rush of the shower coming on, and sifted through his clothes while he waited for his turn. The sight of Remus that morning had filled him with a longing that had been growing more pronounced with each passing day. Harry plucked a pair of fitted jeans off a hanger and draped them over his arm then picked out a violently orange Chudley Cannons T-shirt Ron had given him for one of his birthdays.

He sat down on the end of the bed and listened to the rush of the shower from down the hall. Despite Hermione and Remus's words, his mind was still struggling to just give in and accept that he had fallen for Remus, albeit much faster than he had expected to.

Of course, he mused, I never actually thought I'd fall for Remus to begin with. The realization made Harry smile a little as he remembered how petrified he'd been at being left alone with the man when the whole thing had first started. Now, the fear he'd once felt at the prospect of being alone with Remus had dimmed to a healthy level of nervousness—given that for all intents and purposes he was a virgin when it came to intimacy with men.

Harry knew that he wanted to, but there was a big difference between wanting to and actually doing it. He hoped that he'd be able to get over the last of his reservations in time and go further with Remus. More than getting over it for his own sake—Harry was so tired of being scared all the time—He was finding that he had a growing desire to make Remus happy...to please him.

Distantly, Harry heard the sound of the shower shutting off, and a moment later Remus's soft footsteps descending to the main level. Harry stood and headed out to take his turn, a small smile playing across his lips as an idea began to take hold in his mind.

~*~

Early afternoon found Harry standing in front of his open wardrobe, wearing nothing but his pants and the bedroom door shut. He rested his chin against the fingertips of his right hand while he sifted through his muggle garments. Remus had promised that they would stick to muggle areas, so robes were out. Harry was struggling with the temptation to overthink his desire to look good for Remus, and that little voice at the back of his mind that was trying to make him feel guilty about it.

Deciding that he didn't care what his misguided conscience said, he focused on the small selection of clothes in front of him. He didn't have anything that would be considered posh by any definition of the word, and instead his fingers played across his less frayed and tatty garments, pausing to consider it for a moment before moving on. The clothes he'd worn that morning were in a heap just shy of the hamper, after Harry decided that for their first date, he wanted to at least try and look good.

At last, Harry had picked out a pair of black jeans that were almost—but not quite—too small. The garment hugged him in all the right places, and he couldn't help but grin a little at his reflection in the wardrobe's mirror—a blessedly muggle mirror. He never had the patience to deal with the snarky comments wizarding mirrors often shot at him.

Harry completed the outfit with a thin V-neck jumper in a shade of deep green. It was slightly more stylish than the Weasley jumpers he owned, and it paired well with the colour of his jeans. As a last touch, he snapped his wand and its holster to his forearm and pulled the angora wool over it—just in case.

“Holy wow,” Harry's face grew a little warm at the sentiment as he descended the stairs, Remus straightening up from where he'd been leaning against the wall near to the front door while he'd waited for him. Harry slipped his hand into Remus's when he reached him.

“Would you guess that I didn't know what to wear?” Remus pulled his hand from Harry's at his words, and instead coiled his arms around the younger man's waist, pulling him close.

“Well, you look wonderful.” Harry blushed a deep crimson, “Ready to go?” In the close embrace, Harry felt that pull again—the one where he had a deep desire to just throw himself at the older man and kiss him. Not yet, Harry chided himself, soon, but not yet.

“Yeah,” he said at last, “let's go.”

Harry still did not know what Remus's plans were, and at long last he seemed ready to let him in on where they were going by way of Side-Along Apparition. After the constrictive journey, Harry found his senses overwhelmed by the sounds and smell of the sea. The misty rain of the morning had passed and weak sunshine was peeking through the thin cloud cover, and the sandy beach was deserted. Harry wasn't surprised that it was devoid of people, with November giving way to December, it wasn't exactly beach weather.

Harry shivered a little and pulled his jacket more securely around himself. He followed Remus down from the street where they'd appeared and to the beach, while his hand fingered the handle of his wand. He kept an eye out for potential threats, but did as subtly as he could, unwilling to worry Remus with his paranoia.

“Cold?” Harry stopped and looked back to Remus to see that he had paused, his brow knitted with concern.

“Bit. I hope your plans didn't involve surfing, because I think you'll be a sorely disappointed.” Remus barked a laugh and wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, pulling him against his side. “Come on, it's not much farther.”

Fleetingly, Harry wondered if what muggles viewed as cliché date spots were the same in the wizarding world. It took him a great deal of effort to keep from laughing at the thought, and with a small smile playing across his lips, he allowed himself to be led down the beach. Remus guided Harry along a rocky outcropping an the far end, which led to a small cove sheltered by slate rock, making it next to impossible for unwanted eyes to peer in at them. Upon seeing how secluded it was, Harry felt some of his worry slip away.

Remus pulled his arm from around Harry and drew his wand, casting a number of Warming Charms before he conjured a checkered blanket and a large wicker basket. Harry grinned again, feeling as though his teeth might rot at the sight; it was so sweet. The charms lifted the temperature to something close to a comfortable spring day, and he was able to shed his jacket and wear just his jumper without feeling the slightest chill.

“Does it meet with your approval?” Harry looked up from draping his jacket over his arm to see that Remus was smiling, but there was a faint trace of nervousness in the expression. Harry nodded at once.

“Yeah, it's great,” Harry chuckled a little and stepped closer to the blanket that had been laid out, more to keep himself from losing his footing on the slippery rocks than anything else. “I don't know what I was expecting, but this...it's nice.” Harry met Remus's gaze, and finally the older man seemed to relax, and worry in his expression fading as his mouth split into a smile.

They spent the better part of the afternoon grazing on brie, fresh bread, grapes, and overpriced red wine. They chatted the afternoon away with Remus, their conversation punctuated with mouthfuls of food and drink. They talked about everything and nothing; from speculations on the creative ways Kreacher might attempt to murder Remus, (“I still think he's too dignified to do something as common as feeding you ground glass. A generous dose of doxy venom however...”) to updates on the Red Moon case (“It's getting scary Remus, promise me you'll be careful until we shut them down.”).

They were stretched out on the blanket with the basket between them, and they had fallen into an easy silence. Harry was watching Remus, while Remus had his eyes on the slow roll of the waves breaking on the shore. The calm he saw in the werewolf's expression was a relief, especially after all the man had gone through recently. As Harry watched him, a thought struck him rather suddenly.

“You know,” Harry said, his tone hesitant as he shifted his gaze to his half-full wineglass, its contents swirling as he thought over how to best phrase his question. “You know pretty much everything about me, but I don't know very much about you. I mean, beyond what people have told me.” Remus turned to him, watching Harry thoughtfully before picking up his own glass and taking a small sip, his eyes never leaving him. The intensity of the gaze made Harry flush.

“What would you like to know?”

“I dunno,” Harry shrugged, reaching out to pluck a grape off its vine, though he picked at the thin skin rather than eat it, “what's your family like? What's your favourite colour? Favourite season? Food? I just feel like I know about the big stuff about you, but not like, the little stuff.” Harry shrugged a little, looking away from the older man. “I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to,” he added hastily, chancing a look at him, but Remus was smiling faintly, a faraway look on his face.

“My father was a muggle, and my mother was a witch. She was more...warm, I suppose, to me than my father, in particular after I was bitten. That is not to say he was an unkind man—far from it, but he had never been one for grand shows of emotion.” Remus's expression darkened briefly before he continued.

“I had a lonely childhood, in particular after the bite. My parents were afraid of the repercussions of exposing other children to me. What if I scratched or bit one of them? They wouldn't turn, certainly, if I was in human form, but my parents were cautious, too cautious, I think. It wasn't an unhappy childhood in the strictest sense, but in retrospect, it was a safe one.” Remus took a small sip of wine, pausing his narrative as he cast a brief, thoughtful glance to the scenery around them.

“I was well-loved by my parents,” he said, “and they always made sure that I knew it, especially after many of our wizarding relatives cut ties with us. They were afraid of me, the old prejudices were much like the muggles and their reactions to people with HIV—as though they're likely to catch it, so to speak, by being in the same room as me.” Remus's words grew bitter, and Harry reached out a hesitant hand to cover his.

For a moment Remus appeared surprised, but smiled faintly and accepted the contact, turning his hand to thread his fingers with Harry's. “Of course, then Albus Dumbledore became Headmaster of Hogwarts, and I was able to go to Hogwarts, and that's were I met Sirius and—your father.” The pair both went red at that—it had never escaped their notice of their significant age gap, but with Remus telling Harry details of his life, it made it more difficult to ignore that fact. Harry could not deny that it was a strange concept that his current partner, for lack of a better word, had been best friends with his his father.

Remus pushed forward through the awkward silence.

“Of course, you know the rest.” He smiled faintly as comfortable quiet descended, and he continued.

“My favourite colour is red, I like autumn, and I'm rather fond of haggis.” He barked a laugh when Harry wrinkled his nose at the latter admission, and eased back on the blanket a little more. “Now that you have heard my abridged life story, perhaps you would indulge me and tell me something of your childhood with your blood relatives? I know it wasn't exactly a pleasant time for you.” Harry snorted.

“Understatement of the century.” Harry shifted his gaze to the rush of the waves over the slick rocks while Remus chuckled a little at his words.

Remus had divulged parts of his life that were obviously painful to discuss, and it would be unfair to refuse to return the favour, but Harry had no idea where to start. He bit his lip as he thought it over; it would not do to have Remus get angry on his behalf and go murder the Dursleys. Harry was certain that the bond would not react well to Azkaban.

After a moment's thought, he spoke in a flat tone, not looking at Remus, afraid he'd lose his nerve if he saw for himself the reaction to his words.

“I dunno how much Dumbledore or anyone told you about what it was like before I started at Hogwarts,” Harry looked up, and the blank look on the older man's face spoke for itself. Harry laughed bitterly, not surprised that Dumbledore felt no need to tell anyone the details of his delightful childhood.

“I lived in the cupboard under the stairs until I was eleven, when I was moved to my cousin's second bedroom. My uncle Vernon wasn't shy about giving me a good smack or two when I did accidental magic, but he never did anything life-threatening, and never on a regular basis.” Harry paused, focusing hard on the scenery while he thought, flashes of his past flickering through his mind as he spoke, each memory more painful than the last.

“The most serious that I can remember was when he accidentally dislocated my elbow. I think that was the only time he looked like he actually regretted hurting me.” Harry smiled bitterly, remembering how he and Petunia had practically had kittens over his injury and rushed him to the hospital, actually leaving Dudley with Mrs Figg, which made for a surprising change. Their excuse was that the neighbours would talk if they saw him permanently injured in such a way, but the whole incident had always made Harry wonder.

“They weren't keen on spending money on me unless they absolutely had to,” Harry continued after a moment's pause, “so my birthday and Christmas presents were pretty pitiful, if I got anything at all. I missed meals a lot when I was punished, mostly when I did magic without meaning to, but I learned early on how to sneak food without them noticing it had gone.”

Harry shrugged, and looked back to Remus, who looked genuinely horrified. “It could've been worse, a lot worse. I mean, the Dursleys weren't people I'd ever want to see again, but I think when we left Privet Drive that last time...Dudley was almost decent to me. Makes me hate him a little less than his parents.”

Harry blinked in surprise when Remus abruptly stood and moved to sit behind Harry. He dragged him in between his legs, his chest pressing into Harry's back and his arms wrapping around Harry's middle in a tight embrace. He perched his head on Harry's shoulder before he spoke.

“Being grateful that it wasn't worse is no excuse for allowing anyone to abuse you,” his grip tightened a little, a possessive edge to it that Harry recognized at once. In this context, Harry found it comforting.

“I knew you and your relatives didn't get on, but I had no idea it was that bad. I'm sorry, Harry.” Harry smiled weakly, and rested a hand on Remus's forearm, squeezing it reassuringly.

“You didn't know, no apology needed. Anyway, it's over now and I try not to think about them much.” He shrugged and leaned back against Remus, a familiar thrill of desire and joy lancing through him like an electric shock. Remus buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck and inhaled slowly, the act strange and definitely one of those werewolf things he'd been subject to over the last month. Harry couldn't decide whether he liked or disliked the sensation, as it was not wholly unpleasant.

“I suppose when it comes to our childhood experiences, we're fairly evenly matched.” Harry chuckled at Remus's words, and closed his eyes for a moment. The sound of the surf, the briny smell of the sea air, the warm arms that embraced him, it seemed so strangely perfect, despite their maudlin topic of their conversation. Harry wished he could freeze the moment, just to enjoy it for a little longer.

“It does seem that way,” he said at last, “except for the haggis thing. Eugh.” Harry mock-shuddered, and Remus's throaty laugh reverberated through his chest.

The afternoon had gone so well, Harry almost wanted to pinch himself, if nothing else to make sure that he wasn't dreaming. He could not remember the last time he'd felt so content, so happy. They alternated between chatting, eating, and wandering along the coast hand in hand, Remus's warm, easy smile mirrored by Harry's. When the sun began to sink on the horizon, Harry was surprised at how reluctant he was to leave.

“All right Harry?” Remus's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up and smiled, squeezing the hand that he held.

“I'm great. You?” Remus chuckled but didn't answer, and instead he gave Harry's hand a small squeeze in return before he tugged him slightly in the direction of the secluded spot they'd left a little earlier.

“Come on, let's go home.” Harry nodded and followed his lead, Remus packing away the basket and blanket with a casual flick of his wand, and vanishing it with another wave. He flicked his wand again to dissipate the warming charms, and after casting a cursory glance over their surroundings, the pair Disapparated.

Under Remus's guidance, they reappeared smoothly on the top step of Grimmauld Place. Harry shook his head once to rid himself of the claustrophobic feeling that always followed Apparition, and looked up with a slightly fiendish grin at his partner. Remus did not comment on the look, though he did cock a questioning brow.

“Well Mr Lupin,” Harry began, giving the hand he still held a small squeeze, “thank you for a lovely day. I believe,” Harry paused, and caught the side of his lower lip between his teeth for a moment, and locked gazes with the older man while a thrill of nervousness lanced through him. He tried again.

“I believe at the end of a particularly good a date it's customary to ask for a kiss?” Harry felt as though his emotions had been switched into overdrive, nervousness, excitement, and desire racing through him at top speed following the request, and he felt his face go rather red.

Remus's eyes widened in surprise, and in the pink of the sunset his eyes took on a hue of molten gold. Slowly the shock faded and a beaming smile replaced it, and he reached out to cradle Harry's cheek in his free hand. Harry leaned into the touch with a smile, trying to show the older man that despite his nervousness, he was sincere.

“Yes,” Remus breathed, as though he was hardly able to believe his ears. He slipped his other hand from Harry's hand and wrapped his arm around Harry's waist, pulling him close.

“I do believe it is quite a common practice.”

Remus's breath ghosted over Harry's parted lips. He lifted his arms to wrap them around the older man's neck. His eyes fluttered shut and they closed the distance between them. Harry could feel his heart beating out a quick rhythm, though for once in recent memory out of anticipation, not fear.

At long last their lips met, and Harry finally understood why this bond felt so right

A/N:
1.) Yes, I'm obsessed with sending my ships on picnics. It's cliche, but I don't care.(This marks the third picnic in any fic I've posted in recent history)
2.) I didn't have Internet access when I wrote this chapter, so I made up Remus's backstory on the fly. If there's any glaring inaccuracies you guys think I need to fix, please let me know.
3.) I rewrote that last scene at least 6 times. I'm pretty happy with how it came out, so I hope you guys like it! :)

See you guys on Thursday!
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Lunaticus Book One: Half Moon