Rating of R.

I do not own the characters, JKR does. I simply borrow them.

As a hired hit man, Sirius Black's newest target is a potential danger to the motives of the Death Eaters. The only information that is available to him is an age, gender, location, and the condition of werewolf. Werewolf narrows it down a fair bit, yet that's not going to help him when the location just happens to be an all werewolf school.

Major Alternate Universe alert and mild slash.

Coffee Stains

"I don't know why you waited until the end of the holiday to celebrate," Remus said, sliding into the round backed booth. "Now it feels like we're celebrating going back to school."

"I'll tell you why. The check didn't come in till yesterday."

"Then we should have been celebrating yesterday."

"At ten o' clock?" John asked with a slight smile as he opened his menu and scanned the first page of selections.

"Any time's a good time to celebrate."

"My bad, excuse me for being exhausted," John sighed as he glanced over the sandwiches and moved to the soups.

"From doing what, I don't know," Remus teased and hid his smile behind his own menu.

"Putting up with you. It's a tiring job."

"Just for that, I get two steaks."

"See, tiring and taxing my wallet."

Remus flipped the menu over to the back and leaned his elbows on the table. John nudged them with the edge of his menu. Reluctantly, Remus moved his arms and hands back down to his lap.

"At least you're not denying that I could eat two steaks."

John looked up at his only child with something akin to mock horror on his face. "Remus, I would never deny such a thing."

"So...Two it is?"

John sighed and closed his menu. "If you're sure."

"I have nothing to doubt."

"How about a nice inexpensive salad?"

"Yes, I'll have one of those, too."

"I meant," John started with a quiet chuckle, shook his head, and gave up. "Oh, never mind," he muttered as the bored looking waitress with the fake smile came over to place their order.

"Why not place me a drink, okay, Remus?" John asked and slid three sickles across the table. "Just a Firewhiskey's fine."

Remus raised an eyebrow as he picked up the small coins and stood up.

"You never drink."

John smiled slightly, reclining back at his ease in the leather booth. "It's a celebration, Remus. A celebration."

"Firewhiskey, please," Remus spoke quietly to the bar tender and swiveled away from the bar top on the spinning stool.

The restaurant was packed with many impatient parties. They were seated and chattering at the bar, tables, and booths. Some where in the middle of enjoying their dinner and others were waiting for their own. The bar was equally as crowded, with a little extra noise. A thick film of smoke hung over the dinners like a threatening curtain.

Remus looked left down the horseshoe shaped bar and saw the people at the bar downing their drinks and looking a little pink. The girls sitting in the laps of men with their short skirts laughed, intoxicated from the alcohol. Down the right side of the bar was much of the same. Except for the one man at the far end of the right side that looked vaguely familiar.

Remus leaned over slightly, elbows on his knees and strained for a better view. The click of glass on wood stopped him. He turned towards the bar again, muttered a quiet thanks in return, slid another sickle across the bar as tip, and reached for the glass. His fingers met a warm hand curled around the glass.

He jerked his hand away in surprise and looked up. His eyes trailed from the fingers laced around the glass, to an arm, shoulder, and at last ending up on the face of the bar tender.

"I'm sorry."

"No worries," the bar tender said smoothly, nudging the drink closer to Remus. He leaned over the counter with a sly grin on his lips. "You legal?"

"Excuse me?" Remus nearly flinched, drink in hand and head snapping up.

"Are you legal?"

Remus opened his mouth with a blush starting to form on his cheeks when a protective arm slid around his waist. Sharp teeth bit down on his lip as his head snapped over his shoulder.

"No. Taken," John said firmly, sliding the Firewhiskey out of Remus' hands and into his own. Remus gazed up at his father in confusion. John nudged him in the lower back with his elbow.

"Hi, John," Remus whispered, leaning into his father, making his posture natural and playing along. "Sorry," he said apologetically, throwing his head over his shoulder to look at the bar tender as they left the bar.

"Are you okay? That man was all over you," John fussed over his son, the protective father portrayal relaxing.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Remus said and grinned sheepishly up at his father. "Do you mind if we make a quick detour first," Remus said to his father, pulling him down the right hand side of the bar.

"Excuse me, sir?" Remus asked, placing a hesitant hand on the shoulder of the black haired man at the end of the bar.

"Don't call me sir," the man responded with a slight slur.

"Sir? Is that...Is that you?" Remus asked, removing his hand and taking a half step back.

The bar stool spun towards the two of them and Remus relaxed.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, pubs," Sirius grinned back with bloodshot eyes, tilting his glass towards the pair of them and then draining half of it. "I always thought that you were too tight for a little drink."

John's arm tightened around his son's waist and he stepped forward.

"No, Dad, it's okay," Remus said quickly, stepping between his father and his teacher. "This is Mr. Black, my—"

"Sirius."

"Teacher."

John looked slowly between his son and the raven haired man who had just kicked back the last of his drink and was calling for another one.

"Sir, are you—"

"Don't call me sir, Remus," Sirius sighed, taking his drink from the bar tender and flipping him a coin in exchange. "We're not in school and even so, I really do insist. It's Sirius."

Remus eased out from under John's arm and sat down in the vacated seat to his defense professor's left. John stood behind him with a hand on his shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" Remus asked, eying the glass and wondering just how many drinks his teacher had already consumed.

"Don't worry 'bout it, kid. I'm not gonna be here much longer, anyway, so no worries. I'm leaving." Sirius sat long enough to finish off his last drink before collecting himself and standing up on unsteady legs. He nearly stumbled over the legs of the bar stool and leaned heavily against the wall.

Remus glanced from Sirius to his father with solemn eyes. John looked between the two of them for a moment before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

"I don't think that would be a good idea."

It took Sirius a moment to realize that John was speaking to him. When it registered, he turned with some difficulty to face him.

"What?"

"Did you drive here?"

"My bike," Sirius answered, standing up straighter with a hint of pride.

"Well, I'll make some arrangements to keep it here over night. Do you have anywhere to Apparate to?"

"Greece."

"Greece," John repeated dully, thinking he was hearing just another drunk's rambling.

Sirius nodded his head and abruptly stopped when his vision began to swim.

"That's what I said. Greece."

"Right, anywhere local?"

Sirius looked, dazed, at the ceiling. "No."

Remus looked back and forth between the two of them again.

"You're welcome back at my place until morning, then. You shouldn't be out here wandering in this state," John said at last after figuring that Remus would never forgive him if they left the man by himself.

"Not a state," Sirius hiccuped.

"Why don't you get those steaks to go, Rem?" John slid a galleon into his son's hand, more as a courtesy tip rather than a service one.

Remus retreated with one last glance over his shoulder. John sighed and led a drunken Sirius back to his bar stool.

"You sure have had quite a bit," John muttered as he left Sirius to ask for the manager to make arrangements about the motorcycle.

Remus came back to the bar and quietly waited back by the wall behind Sirius. He felt embarrassed to see one of his teachers so out of it. It was like something he had witnessed that he wasn't supposed to see.

"You act like I can't see you back there," Sirius spoke into the emptiness of his glass.

For a second in time, Remus imagined that he had sounded completely sober and sad.

"Are you—" Remus started just as his father returned, swinging his coat on as he walked.

"Ready to go? Everything is all taken of. You can stay at my place for the night, and we'll get you to...Home in the morning."

Sirius sized up John for a moment, his addled brain trying to figure out if he was being sarcastic or not. All it did was confuse him, so he stopped trying to reason with himself and got up to follow Remus and John. He had a hard time walking and after only a few steps, John was helping him on one side while Remus was on the other.

"Here's a blanket and a pillow. I'm really sorry about the couch, I wish we had a bed for you," Remus said, making up the impromptu bed on the couch and turning to a slightly less intoxicated Sirius.

The cold shower and hot mug of coffee had helped to chase the clouds away from his eyes. Remus only wished that they had had some hangover cure potion to completely relieve him.

"Do you want another blanket? It might get cold."

Sirius didn't say anything and walked past him to collapse on the couch. Ever since Sirius had sobered up some, he had remained silent. It seemed as if whatever had caused him to drink so much in the first place was now weighing heavily on his mind once more.

Sirius rolled over to face the back of the couch and crawled under the blanket.

"Good night, sir," Remus said quietly as he left through the arch way that opened up into a short hallway. Remus knew that something was terribly wrong when he was not corrected.

"Do you think he's hungry?" Remus whispered in bed an hour later. John rolled over and yawned.

"What?'

"Do you think he's hungry?"

"I don't know, Rem. It looked to me as if he was doing too much drinking to be concerned about eating," John mumbled, already half asleep again.

"He's really upset."

John sighed and turned his head to face his son completely.

"I know, Remus, but there's not much we can do. He's got somewhere to sleep for tonight. He's safe, isn't that enough?"

"He could be hungry though."

"Alright. Okay, if it'll make you feel any better, go give him something. But he's probably already asleep."

"I still want to try," Remus said, slipping out of bed.

"If it means I can sleep."

"Sorry."

John was already lost to a world of dreamscapes before Remus was out the door.

I really hope he likes chicken soup, Remus thought as he crept quietly down the hall towards the living room. Right before he reached it, he stopped, the hairs on the back of his neck rising.

He could hear muffled sobs coming from the room where his defense professor was supposedly asleep. Remus could not bring himself to move. A rather loud, mournful sound motivated him to creep even quieter still back into the kitchen where he had just come from.

Remus set the steaming bowl on the counter top and put a hot cloth over it to keep it hot and fresh least Sirius became hungry and wander into the kitchen.

"Was he hungry?" John muttered with his eyes closed in feign sleep as Remus climbed back into bed.

"I thought you were asleep."

"Was he?"

Remus hesitated. He pulled the covers up to his chin.

"No."