I am bringing out all sorts of references from several sources. I am not claiming anything as my own that I did not in fact invent. Please do not get angry or offended if I am borrowing something that is yours, I will return it when the fic is done.

~

"Is it really that hard for you to behave yourself?" Folding his return message Remus handed it to Mescaline who stood and tucked it into the small pouch on his back.

Mescaline smiled his thin smile and grabbed a last beernut before shifting back to his true form. "If I weren't worth the trouble, I wouldn't be myself," the white Raven's sarcastic reply was emphasized by an overly obvious wink. "Just for your information, Casanova, she wouldn't say anything but she is hoping that you'll come by and see her soon. " He cackled a laugh and shot out the open door into the night.

The female joined them almost as though she had been waiting for the seat to become available (she had.) Her jacket was open and as it fell away, her outfit was visible for the first time to the three men. Garom boots gloves and collar topped it off, but they had seen those. They now saw that she also wore a pair of black jeans that hung low on her painfully bony hips and a black shirt that was only slightly loose and exposed her pale stomach.

"You have lost weight," Starch commented dryly.

She did not acknowledge him, instead she faced Remus, "He wants to try the serum on you next Friday. you'll need to stay off the inhibitor and Wolf's bane potion."

"I'll do it," Remus answered quickly. He had been thinking about this for a long time, nearly two years in fact, most of the second guessing and uncertain fears had been exhausted. 'Since being bitten I've looked for a cure. For the past two years I've felt it coming, can I really be one week from being free?' Well one last worried thought was ok, he supposed.

She got up to let the male have a seat. It just happened, without thought or prompting or anything. It happened so smoothly that no one really noticed, and that was a mistake.

The male was carrying his jacket draped over one arm. His low jeans showed off his hipbones but his shirt was not quite as brief as the female's. It was only when he raised his hands above his head, to put the jacket back on, that they got a glimpse of his protruding ribs.

"Mescaline?" he asked as he sat, "Did he steal anything from any of you. He's got a thing for shiny stuff."

"It took Black a bit to recognise what it was that had drunk his whisky when he looked away," the female was almost smiling.

"You've lost weight too," Starch tonelessly.

"When one throws up more often than they eat, that tends to happen," the male responded. Then he changed the subject, a very old move that Starch knew all too well. He addressed Lupin and Black, "Enough Ogden's Black, either of you had any Talisker?"

Gina quickly returned with their drinks, "Two Black Ice," she was very careful not to get too close to the Garoms as she set down their drinks. She then made up for it by rubbing against Remus and Sirius, "Two Taliskers, and one double malt plasma O positive," she was shy with Starch, as she had been with LaCroix.

Conversation started between Starch Lupin and Black and none of them noticed what else was going on for quite some time. The male had nicked Lupin's Pocket Quill and was absentmindedly scribbling on napkins from the stack that Gina had accidentally left behind.

"It's almost six," the female said from where she stood, leaning on the back of the male's chair. "We should go soon."

"Six o'clock?" Sirius darted a look at his Wizard watch, "It's only one."

She shook her head, "Here it is almost one, there it is almost six, you're drunk."

"Am not," Sirius tried to look affronted. He ended up looking as drunk as he in fact was. "What's he doing," Black asked, pointing to the mess that had been created as, one after another, every napkin in the large stack was marked then thrown on the floor.

Only the male and female did not seem to pay any attention. The female had wandered away to lean against a pillar and was watching the people. Starch got to his feet and was joined by Remus as he leaned over the male's shoulder to see what he was doing.

He wasn't looking at the paper or the people who were watching him, he knew they were there the same way he knew he was writing, but he was really paying attention to the female and the way she was watching the rest of the room. With his right hand he moved the quill over the scrap of paper with his left he slid the used sheet off of the (by now very short) stack of papers and let it fall off the edge of the table.

Starch retrieved several of the napkins and moved closer to a shaded lamp to read what had been written. Remus watched the male for the duration of three more napkins, then picked up a few. He flipped the first on its side then upside down, it still made no sense, "What does it say?" he asked the quiet Vampire.

Unwilling to be left out, Sirius tripped slightly as he got up, and again as he bent to scoop up a fist full of the thin white pages. "Oh, English," he cried happily dropping the others. He squinted, "It's too dark," he said and dropped it to the floor.

Pushing his chair back (and scattering the small mound of napkins) the male rose and handed Remus' quill back to him, "Done?" he asked the female.

"Medium rare," she smiled lightly. They moved toward the door, the female called back, "Lupin, Black we're going."

"What do you mean?" Sirius squinted behind his shades.

"She is still pink in the middle," the male spoke as the female unobtrusively picked up Starch's bag, "enough energy left to get you back but she is almost done." The Garoms promptly headed out to the street.

Remus took hold of Sirius' arm and pulled him along, "Why do you get drunk every time we come here?" he complained. "You are supposed to be keeping a low profile until you get your acquittal. Not getting picked up on a drunk and disorderly."

Starch caught up with them as they were nearly to the door. "Here," he shoved a napkin into Remus' hand," Give this to Dumbledore and tell him that he should be proud. He doesn't even know he knows."

Back in the cool night air (even if it was choked with the smells and sounds of a large Muggle city) Remus sighed. The Garoms were walking slowly and Remus had no real trouble dragging Sirius along. Sirius was a complacent drunk, 'Thank Merlin for small favours!' he thought.

"He won't let them get me."

Lupin was thrown by Sirius' random statement then he connected it to the question he had asked a few minutes ago. "The male? What makes you think he would protect you from an army of American Aurors?"

"Because I'm his," Sirius slurred the words a little. "Didn't you notice it at the bar? He stayed within eye contact of us the whole night except when he went to throw up. Then the female took over, she's right. You have no understanding of social order in mixed company." He laughed at his own pun, then went quiet again.

"And you do?" Remus was a little miffed, 'He's just drunk. But so am I, a little at least.' "You've been in prison for twelve years. What do you know about being around mixed company?"

The four of them were now in an abandoned lot between a condemned building and a should-have-been-condemned apartment. "I'll take him," the male indicated Black.

"Okie with me," she replied.

The male grabbed hold of Sirius' jacket and hauled him several steps away. The female got a good hold on Remus' shoulder and whispered an apology a moment before the world melted away. A cloud of shining glitter blocked their vision. As it settled the corridor that led to Lupin and Black's rooms came into focus.

Lupin turned, "How did you-" but the male and female were already heading back to the Snape's rooms. He made sure that Sirius got back to his own bed then pulling the crumpled note from a cargo pocket he headed for the Headmaster's private quarters.

~

Albus had assured him that he wasn't intruding, and Minerva had offered to go. They had been having an early morning coffee, and quiet chat but seeing Remus' condition (he hadn't taken the time to retransfigure his robes and though his increased healing factor made it harder to get drunk, he wasn't totally sober.

"Is this something that you would prefer to keep private?" Albus asked, a little reluctant to have Minerva leave so soon. "We could speak in my Official Office," his eyes twinkled at the reference to the formal office that he had inherited from the former Headmaster. He rarely used it but it did have the most thorough confidentiality charm coverage of any room in the school.

"Maybe that would be better," Remus waited for Albus to rise, the followed him into the office. "I don't really understand what he meant so I'm not sure if I'm over reacting here, but," he handed the crumpled napkin to the Headmaster. He described what had happened then relayed the message that Starch had given him.

"Thank you for your help, Remus," Albus did not have to work very hard to force a kind smile and make some sort of comment about something that calmed Remus' worried expression. He had been playing the kindly old fool for many years and falling back on that role was as natural as breathing. Once Remus was gone, he sat heavily on his favourite settee and rested his head in his hands.

Seeing his distress, Minerva sat beside him and placed a light arm over his shoulders, "Albus? Is it some thing you can tell me about?"

"No." He gathered himself enough to make an honest effort at a smile, "Minerva, would you please make my excuses to the faculty, I don't think I'll have time to join you all for breakfast."

She caught the way he had phrased his request, putting separation between himself and the rest of the faulty, "Of course Albus," she rose gave him one last squeeze on the shoulder and moved toward the door.

"One thing Minerva?" he glanced at the napkin in his hand, "Would you please send Severus up?"

She gave a wan, but encouraging smile, and softly closed the door.

Carefully Albus unfolded the paper and read the lines again,

~~~I drank myself into oblivion last night,

Woke up still trapped within this shell of bone and flesh,

Nothing couldn't consume my pain,

Yet I continue to continue.

Why…~~~

'Does he really think I'm proud of this? What does that- he's not even a full Vampire, think I was trying to do?! Alastor and I could not have let them be eliminated, after that what choice did we have?'

One tap on the door drew Albus from his angry thoughts, "Come in Severus," Albus called.

The door opened just enough for the thin figure to slip by. "What do you require," the words were spoken earnestly and that sincerity was reflected in the deep blue eyes.

"You used the suppressant?"

He took a seat close to the Headmaster, but not too close to the fire, and closed his eyes, "You think I would come here, at your request, at this time of day, and not take the suppressant?"

"Has Neville spoken with you since the last time?" Albus veered from the topic again. He saw the male's jaw clench and waited for him to speak.

"He has come to speak about it three times, in the evening fortunately. No he doesn't know everything, but I felt that he should know that I altered the Heroin base of the potion to the point where it has no addictive or hallucinogenic properties left."

"And that satisfied him?"

The male sighed, "Is there a point to this? You've never shown any kind of interest in my dealings with the students since the first day, and even then, all you did was make me promise not to kill anyone without necessity."

Albus realized he had been absentmindedly handling the napkin and made an effort to smooth it out, 'He is using too many personal pronouns, are things moving faster than even Alastor thought?' "How long ago did you take the injection?"

"You just sent for me," he squinted a questioning look to the Headmaster, "I only use it when I need to, you know I would never hurt him."

Albus held forth the, now worn, and wrinkled napkin, "Remus said that you wrote this," the male carefully took it without touching the hand that held it. "He said that you wrote it in at least four different languages, I'm assuming that you didn't use only the languages that Remus happens to know."

He shrugged and tried to hand the poem back, "I did have quite a lot to drink last night but I have not gone away yet. I had only time enough to change into work clothes before McGonagall was at me to see you." When Albus did not take the paper back he set it on the endtable to his left. "Maybe he wrote it, if I can influence him he should be able to more than influence me." He watched Dumbledore for a few moments then tentatively tried another subject, "Mister Longbottom is failing Potions already, he has not turned in one assignment that included even an abstractly interpretationally right answer."

"Really Severus," Albus chuckled, mostly because he needed to release the tension within himself before it was absorbed by the Other. "We are not even a full month into the new term. He has always had more trouble with Potions than any other subject, and if I may say so you are in a position to help him I think."

The dusky blue of his eyes gained a faint shimmer as his pupils became slightly oblong, "He is passing Potions Theory without trouble. There is no way that a person can, through random stupidity, accidentally blow-up every cauldron they work with." The black ovals became more pronouncedly unHuman as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Every single time except with the potions that, if induced into an explosion, would cause harm to others." one brow rose skeptically, "He is shamming."

"Puts me in mind of another shamming student I had many years ago," Albus mused, "A certain reclusive black hared Slytherin if I remember correctly."

"That may have been my fault," the male conceded with a slight smirk, "But then you can hardly say it was my fault, he chose this not me."

"Breakfast is nearly over," Albus said, with a glance at the Wizard's clock on his wall, "You should probably let him eat. And Severus," he called the retreating sham back, "Be very careful from now on, he will not stay his hand from anything to hurt us."

"I know Master, but if he does strike against the Order, he won't live long enough to do you or the child harm. You two, at least, I can kill for."

Alone again, Albus remembered more than Severus' days as a student, and something much more resent, '"You must kill him…" you asked it of me not so long ago, have you really gained enough of a hold that you could do it yourself now? Would you survive?'

~

Late Tuesday night after all papers had been graded and detentions had been inflicted, Alastor Moody sat in comfortable silence on the black side of a very old chessboard.

"Check. And how was your day," the female did not look away from the board as she asked.

Alastor gave a slightly maniacal half grin, "Afraid I'll move the pieces on ye Severa?"

"No," she gave him her sweetest (and fakest) smile, "But I have played against you at least twice a week for as long as I can remember, and I don't trust the pieces you use."

"Filch and I are getting along better than I had hoped," he couldn't help but chuckle when that brought her eyes up for a quick flash. "The man may hate every living thing on this Earth except that tatty old cat, but he knows more about the tactical layout of this place than anyone. If I didn't trust him a tenth as well as I do…" He finally nudged his King over two so it could castle, and left the statement half done.

"Where is his allegiance," she murmured with a nod to the white bishop who had been patiently waiting to take Alastor's remaining knight.

Still grinning Alastor shook his head, "How do you ambush like that, so easily? Oddly enough Filch's allegiance is owed to Severus. I've never seen anyone hold a debtor as tightly as he does, except maybe you."

"Ah, but I'm not that much of a strategist." She pounced on another piece he had left unguarded, "I'm an opportunist with limited vision. He can see and plan half a game in advance."

"But?" he knew she had stopped with a thought still waiting to be voiced.

"But he has trouble executing those plans." She tilted her head as Alastor's rook slid down to put her in check. Her queen promptly took his rather offensive rook, and on the next move put him in checkmate.

"He needs a partner," Alastor spoke contemplatively, but watched her reaction closely, "someone he can watch over as they act on his orders."

The pieces took care of them selves as she rose to leave, "Yes, I believe you're right. He would make a better guardian and commander than he would a blindly trusting point-man. Actually that sounds a bit like what I do," she coughed a laugh and headed to the dungeons.

Alastor turned from the cleared chessboard and stared into the fire, "Terribly coincidental, that," he whispered to the dancing flames and empty room. "The two of you, being balanced to cover each other's gaps." 'You were right Albus,' he thought, 'she is using the first person singular far more than she should be able to.' Thinking back on the charms that had been used he frowned, 'No, those charms aren't wearing down. It must be the failing graft. Damn.'