Prologue:
September 15th, 1981
The drinking had started out with the simple toast of "Here's to Moody" and escalated to toasting anyone, and everyone, who had been wronged, died, or hurt in any way during the war with Voldemort. Dumbledore understood the sentiment, and watched as the young men drank themselves into an even deeper pit; doubting he could stop them at this point. The last few months had been hard on all of them. The prophecy, Lily and James going into hiding in order to keep themselves and their son alive, Alice and Frank Longbottom being tortured, the threat of a spy in their midst…It was enough to drive even the strongest men to drink; Remus and Sirius being no exception. Tonight had been the breaking point. Death Eaters hunting down and killing Aurors one by one in the middle of the night was just too much. Dumbledore brought a weary hand to his forehead and rubbed at the furrow of frustration building between his eyes.
The young men had drink and the old men were left with their regret. In the end, both ended up with headaches.
The new office was smaller than the last and the smell of alcohol easily permeated the air around him. This had been the third location the Order of the Phoenix had found in the last four months. Fear of the spy within their own ranks had kept them moving from place to place and Dumbledore was sure that he would not miss the latest headquarters. The office was the only room in the abandoned building he could charm into staying warm. The last owners had been on the end of Voldemort's wrath, and apparently had some blood-tie to the house. With the Willington family buried in the churchyard down the road, the house was cold, seeping loneliness, and dejectedness. He'd never felt such emotions from a house before and wondered if there was something that he could do to help the place heal. It would have to wait until after all this unpleasantness was over and done with for good, but when he did have time, it would be a form of healing for himself as well.
The door opened slightly, shaking him from his thoughts, and Hawk Lupin took a step into the room. He smiled at her tiredly as she nodded in acknowledgement to his greeting. Sending a tired look over at the drunken snicker that greeted her, Hawk shook her head and turned her attention to the fire. She walked over to the hearth and stroked the mantle.
"He'll live," she spoke without looking up from the fire. "Lost the leg, but that was at his own demand."
Dumbledore let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Alastor Moody had taken a bite from Voldemort's snake that should have killed him, had he not shot himself up with anti-venom and every other anti-curse potion he had on hand before they came for him. A leg in comparison to a life was much more agreeable in his mind. If anyone could cope with such an injury, it was Alastor. Dumbledore glanced over at Hawk and wondered if he should worry more over Moody's protégé than Moody himself.
Hawk was the only student to come out of Hogwarts with an invite right into the Auror program by Alastor Moody himself. Less than six months into training, she was assigned to him. Now three years later, Hawk was working solo, but the relationship between the two was closer than most parents to their own children.
"I'm sure he'll be fine, Hawk," Dumbledore assured her and she nodded.
"He always is. But when I get my hands on that snake, there won't be enough of it left to even make a good belt."
It was a promise; there was no doubt of that. There was a drunken chuckle causing Dumbledore to look over at Remus and Sirius. They were still passing the bottle between them, quietly, for the most part. What was this war doing to his children?
"Dumbledore?" a knock came from the door, and Severus Snape popped his head into the room.
"Severus," Dumbledore greeted.
"Slime…" Sirius growled.
"Git…." Remus put in with a small giggle that had them both laughing on the floor.
"Both of you – can it," Hawk ordered, and Snape threw her a small smile.
"To Moody's leg!" Sirius barked and Remus raised the bottle to his lips in salute.
Hawk stiffened and turned to them with anger in her eyes, but both ignored her, and Snape laid a hand on her shoulder.
"They're drunk," he reminded her and she nodded, still not looking happy.
"Severus?" Dumbledore asked, hoping he would get to why he was here.
"Gregory wants to speak with you downstairs. He has some information you asked for," he answered and Dumbledore sighed.
It was never easy running this group of young people, but some nights he wished he were as young as they were just so he wouldn't feel so old. He nodded and got up from his chair by the fire. He looked over his shoulder before leaving the room and silently prayed that this would all be over soon. Snape waited until he left before lifting his hand off Hawk's shoulder, looking down at the dark blood that had stained his palm.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, and she moved away from him a few paces, the answer clear as day in her actions.
"I'll do. Nothing that salve you gave me won't fix," she assured him with a tired smile.
Normally, he would have pressed the matter, but with everything that had gone on that night and Moody's injury still fresh in everyone's mind, he trusted that she knew what she was doing and hoped she had enough salve left. He chided himself for worrying. It would do no good to try and act like her parent when the closest thing she had to one had nearly died tonight.
"To Moody's Nose!" Sirius slurred and Remus chuckled.
"And what are we to do about the pair of them?" Snape asked.
"I'd normally say let them sleep it off here, but with everything going on, it'll be better to get them home where they won't be underfoot," she answered.
"Think you can handle both of them?" he asked, eyeing the drunks, and knowing they were going to be as listless as dead fish.
"I've been doing this since we turned fourteen." She shook her head tiredly. "But if you want to take Remus, I would be appreciative."
Snape was quick to note she had taken his enemy, and put him in charge of her family. She was very intuitive that way.
"Come on, cousin," she coaxed Remus to open his eyes. "Time to get you home."
"Home?" He swayed.
"Yeah, home," she answered with a smile. "You want to take him first?"
"No, I'll help you get Black out of here first," Snape answered.
She glanced back at where Snape was eyeing Sirius with distaste. He sent her a tired look she smirked at before letting him help pull Sirius to his feet.
"L'emme go," he ordered, pushing Snape away weakly.
"He's just trying to help," Hawk pointed out.
"Don' need his kind," Sirius spat and slurred at the same time.
"And you wonder why no one but James and Remus will put up with you." She shook her head and pulled him towards the fire.
"And Peter!" He told her.
"And Peter," she conceded.
"Why do you hate me, Birdie?" Sirius asked, almost sounding lucid. "I don't hate you."
His grey eyes looked sober for a moment, and Hawk considered answering him honestly before her usual answer dripped from her mouth.
"Because you're a pig," she answered and looked over at where Severus was sitting again. "This could take a while. Don't wait up."
"Yeah…Slime ball." Sirius staggered a little causing both of them to sway.
"I'll see you at the meeting in three days," Snape replied, ignoring Black. "Are you sure you don't need help?"
She was shaking under Sirius' weight, and she looked about dead on her feet, but she still managed to shake her head at Snape and walked into the fireplace with a hand full of floo powder.
"This was easier when we were fourteen," she replied and Snape smiled slightly.
And with that, Hawk Lupin disappeared into the night, and Severus Snape left the warm, but far too empty office with Remus Lupin passed out on his shoulder. Then he knew he would be in search of a drink and his own bed without another care in the world. Little did he know how such a simple decision as which drunk to take home would affect the rest of his life.
