B-R-Y-A-N

He was woken barely an hour later by Professor McGonagall saying that the Headmaster wanted to speak with him. Bryan nodded and followed her as she led him out. An hour's sleep wasn't much, but it would get him through a meeting, even if he had no idea what it was for. McGonagall walked him to the gargoyle and said the password for him (butterbeer), but she didn't accompany him up the stairs. Bryan found himself unaccountably worried and, though he managed to keep his face impassive, his quills flexed spasmodically like human goose-bumps, creating an odd wave-like effect in his sleeves. The large wooden door that led into Dumbledore's office opened just as he arrived at the top of the stairs and he started as he saw, behind the welcoming form of the old headmaster, Malfoy hunched low in a chair.

"Ah, Bryan, good to see you again," Dumbledore said, his warm voice drawing Bryan's attention back. "Mr. Malfoy has asked you to come and speak with us on a matter of some interest. Won't you please come in?" Bryan nodded and stepped past him, his quills going faster than ever. Malfoy noticed this and actually seemed to be stifling a laugh. Dumbledore had taken his seat across the desk from Bryan and Malfoy and was watching them over steepled fingers. "It has come to my attention," he said finally, "that Harry Potter was stabbed this evening. The only words he said before slipping into unconsciousness were 'Malfoy stabbed me'. Needless to say, we immediately fetched young Draco here, who tells us that it wasn't his fault and that you will corroborate his story. Is this true?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Bryan said respectfully before launching into an explanation of that night's events. "You see, I set up a meeting between Harry and Malfoy so that they could work some things out. I was waiting for Harry to return when I heard his mind call out in pain and fear, so I went down to see him and he was bleeding from a wound in his stomach. A knife lay nearby. I took him to the hospital wing and, when he told me that it was Malfoy who had stabbed him, I snuck down to the Slytherin dorms and confronted him. He protested that he didn't even remember meeting Harry and, when I checked his mind, I found that he was telling the truth; he hadn't known anything. There was an order tucked into a small corner of his mind that had told him to stab Harry and then sealed away any memory of it. That place is gone now."

"Do you have any idea who put it there?" Dumbledore asked, his face deeply serious.

"I have theories, sir," Bryan admitted evasively, glancing at Malfoy's bent head. Dumbledore watched him expectantly and he yielded. "I believe it was put there by Malfoy's mother." There was a shocked silence.

"My...my mum?" Malfoy croaked, "But she...she wouldn't!"

"Why do you believe this, Bryan?" Dumbledore asked gently. Bryan struggled to form his thoughts into words.

"The...signature on the...controlling spell was clearly related to Draco and his father has been in Azkaban since June."

"How do you know about that?" Malfoy asked frantically. Bryan rolled his eyes.

"I've been up to my ears in your mind, Malfoy," he pointed out, "I know a lot of what's been going on in your life."

"But...but my mum..." Malfoy protested, "she wouldn't...she just wouldn't! She's always listened to me...she's been on my side! I trusted her!" Bryan, sensing his presence wasn't required anymore, stood up to leave. He stopped at the door.

"I trusted someone Malfoy," he said quietly, "His name was Logan and he kept me from going insane. The first thing he taught me was to never let my guard down, not even with him, because They are always watching for a weakness." The silence was heavy in the air, broken only by the soft click as the door closed behind him. He abandoned himself to the memories he could feel coming on as his feet guided him back to Gryffindor Tower.

He walked into the elevator, watching in ill-disguised wonder as it took him away from the only room he'd ever seen. He felt them move upward and estimated that they were going about twenty feet per second, and after only three seconds they slowed to a stop.

"Move, boy," Romulus said, pushing him roughly forward just as the doors opened. He moved into a small room, completely bare except for two folding chairs and a small table. One of the chairs was occupied by a soft-looking man who was probably around forty by Bryan's estimation. "This is Logan, he'll be your psychiatrist. I'll be back to pick you up in an hour." There was a whirring sound and Bryan didn't even have to turn around to know that Romulus was gone. Bryan stood, military style, until Logan motioned for him to sit. The man leaned close to whisper in Bryan's ear.

"I want you to trust me, Bryan," he said softly, "So I'm going to tell you this right away. They're watching and listening even now. Don't let your guard down, ever; not even with me." Logan pulled back quickly and smiled; though the smile was strained, Bryan could feel the warmth behind it.

Bryan shook himself back to the present when the sight of the portrait in front of him registered. His heart ached. Logan was the one thing he hadn't wanted to leave behind in the Nevada desert. But he knew that if Logan could possibly have seen the freedom he had found, he would be happy for Bryan.

His dreams that night were dark and sad and left him feeling drained the next morning. He trudged down to the common room and found himself in the midst of a crowd of first years hanging around the bulletin board.

Flying lessons today with...

Flying lessons at one-o'clock...

Ravenclaw! Glad we don't...

So, that's what all the fuss was about! They were going to have their first flying lessons today at one-o'clock with the Ravenclaws. The idea made his stomach twitch in the way it used to when he was told he would have to take a test from Romulus (the man scared him!). Ignoring his nerves, Bryan left Gryffindor Tower and went straight to breakfast in the Great Hall.

"Hello Ron, Hermione," he greeted the two politely when he sat down at the Gryffindor table. "I take it Harry's still in the hospital wing?" He knew as soon as he'd mentioned it that something was wrong. When they turned to answer him, their eyes were full of sadness.

"Harry...Harry hasn't woken up yet," Hermione said quietly, as if speaking it too loudly would make it worse. "Madam Pomfrey has healed the wound, but he won't wake up. She says there might have been some sort of poison on the knife Malfoy used." Bryan felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. He dropped the piece of toast he had grabbed halfway to his mouth and bolted out of the Great Hall. When he got to the Hospital Wing, Malfoy was already there, sitting next to Harry with his face resting in one hand.

"Snape thinks it's a combination of a sleeping draught and a deterioration potion," he said dully without turning his head, "he's down in his office running some tests on Harry's blood." Bryan nodded, though he knew Malfoy couldn't see him, and walked forward to put a hand on the other boy's shoulder. Malfoy shrank back from the touch, though, and Bryan let his hand fall back to his side.

"Malfoy," he said hesitantly, "what did it feel like...when I was in your head?"

"It gave me a headache," Malfoy mumbled sullenly and Bryan smiled sadly.

"Not like that," Bryan shook his head, "I mean, could you actually feel that it was me in there? Could you feel me as I moved around?" Malfoy shuddered and nodded, turning slightly green.

"Yes, and I'd appreciate it if you never did it or mentioned it again," he said, his voice quavering a bit with nausea. Bryan winced, he had an unpleasant proposition to suggest.

"I was thinking, maybe if I go into Harry's head while he's asleep, I can tell him to wake up," Bryan said softly. He knew, somehow, that this had to be up to Malfoy.

The Slytherin sat for a long time, watching Harry's slow breathing, before nodding and motioning for Bryan to sit across from him. He sat and, placing his hands on the bed to brace himself, closed his eyes and focused.

He was in a large graveyard. It was dark and mist was surrounding everything. Bryan moved, sure that Harry had to be somewhere around there. He found the Gryffindor at the top of a hill. Tied to a graveyard and surrounded by cloaked figures. Bryan got closer, until he could read the name on the grave: Sirius Black. Bryan focused harder and beat his mind against the dream. The dream-Harry looked up, startled, as the graveyard scene started to shake and swim. Only Bryan and Harry were left solid. Harry seemed to notice this, too, as his attention focused on Bryan.

"Harry, wake up!" Bryan willed his dream-self to shout. Very little sound came out, but he kept trying. "Wake up, Harry! You need to wake up! This isn't real! It's a potion that's making you sleep! You need to wake up!"

"Bryan!" Malfoy's voice tore him back to reality, "Stop it! No more, Bryan!" He looked around and saw that he had fallen off his chair and Harry had very nearly shaken himself off the bed. Though he was still asleep, the look on Harry's face was pure agony. Bryan felt the blood drain from his face.

"No...I...I didn't..." he stammered weakly, backing towards the exit. Malfoy watched him with concern.

"Bryan, are you alright?" he asked hoarsely. At the sound of his voice, Bryan spun around and ran, full speed, out onto the grounds. He flew past bewildered students gathering for Herbology and didn't stop until he felt his lungs beginning to burn, well after he'd made his way around the lake. Panting and gulping for oxygen, he splashed the icy cold water on his face. For a second there, Harry had looked...had seemed to be...

Sweet Merlin, I can't even think it!

...dead. Dead by his hands. Just like...just like the ones back There. He couldn't face that, not again. It was almost half an hour before Bryan managed to hide his memories sufficiently to return to school. He lost five points from Gryffindor for being late to Defense Against the Dark Arts, but nothing else eventful happened. Nothing happened that might take his mind off the images swirling in his memory or the guilt swirling in his gut.

By lunchtime, he couldn't stand it anymore, he just had to do something productive. He snuck down to the potions classroom and Snape's office, using the password he had 'heard' Snape use to get in undetected. The Potions Master was hard at work, stirring a cauldron that was shooting green steam into the room.

"Sir," he said softly. Snape's head whipped around for a moment, then did a double take.

"How did you get in here?" he snapped before turning back to his work.

"Sir, do you know anything yet?" Bryan asked, ignoring the professor's question. He was getting tired of answering awkward questions.

"And if I did, why exactly would I tell you, Boy?" Snape snapped. Again, Bryan ignored him.

"Sir, if...if countermeasures aren't taken," he paused, swallowing, "will Harry die?"

"Perceptive Gryffindor, aren't you?" Snape sneered, though some of the anger had left his voice. "Yes, it's a variation of the Dreamless Sleep potion called Somnio Abolesco and if he isn't given the antidote his heart will stop beating within a month."

"If I could, sir, I would like to help in any way possible." Snape turned to face him and regarded him solemnly for a moment.

"There's nothing you can do, Bryan," he said, his voice not quite gentle, but closer to it. "Go back to your dorms." Bryan nodded and left without another word.

A week went by, then another, and nothing improved. Victor and Bryan were both still hated by the Slytherins and suspected by nearly everyone else; and Harry was still slipping deeper and deeper into the doomed sleep. Hermione and Ron visited him every chance they got, even Mark and Malfoy went sometimes. Bryan never joined them. He couldn't bear to see him just lying there, pale and barely breathing; looking dead.

Classes weren't getting any easier, either. Although his grades in Herbology, Potions, History, and Astronomy were incredible; he only had half credit in Transfiguration, Defense, Charms; all the practical classes. Even his flying was below the usual first year standard. It got so bad that McGonagall got worried and pulled him aside after class one day.

"Bryan, I have noticed that you seem to be struggling with things in class, is this true?" she asked, not unkindly.

"Yes, ma'am," Bryan said, nodding miserably. "I don't know why, either. Harry, before he...before this..."

"Before, yes," McGonagall prompted.

"He showed me how to do the shield charm and I could do it just fine," he said, his voice not as toneless as normal. "But when I'm in class, it's just harder. I don't know why."

"Headmaster Dumbledore believes, and I agree," said McGonagall, "that this may have something to do with your Legilimency."

"But I close that off during classes," Bryan protested.

"Yes, but you do that using Occlumency," McGonagall pressed. "Both of these are very advanced spells and require quite a bit of magic. In having to perform them both at the same time, you are depleting your own resources. With this in mind, I have got you a private tutor. If you can pass off the necessary spell with him, you won't need to do them in class. Do you agree?" Bryan nodded. "Good. Come to my classroom after dinner for your first session. Henceforth, your sessions will be every weekday from six until seven and Saturdays from three until five. Now, run along or you'll be late."

Bryan nodded and hurried off to Herbology feeling a bit better, but only a bit. It was as if the smallest weight had been lifted from his shoulders, leaving the others to press down all that much harder. He wondered who his tutor would be, figuring that, whoever he was, he couldn't be any worse than his 'tutors' back There.

He managed to pull himself (barely) through a round of Herbology and one of Charms. In the former he excelled as usual in taking notes, answering questions, and following directions; in the latter, he kept himself busy by doing his best at the sticking charm they were doing. He made his quill stick to his parchment, but was quite sure that was more due to static electricity than his own magical success. He rushed through dinner, but that was nothing new; they all rushed through meals. The others wanted to go visit Harry in any free time left, and he just wanted to get away. As soon as he felt satisfied that he'd eaten enough, he wordlessly excused himself and walked out of the Great Hall.

"Wonder what that was about?" Hermione asked once he was gone.

"Maybe Malfoy knows," Ron sneered quietly.

"Ron," said Hermione in a warning tone. They had been down that road before, and it always ended up in a shouting match with Hermione playing unwilling devil's advocate for both Bryan and Malfoy. After the third day of this, she had told him off quite loudly for being so argumentative. Now all it took was a warning tone and he avoided the topic completely.

Bryan walked purposefully to the Transfiguration classroom, his steps direct and forward; clear body language for 'I'm busy, don't distract me'. No one was ignorant enough to ignore these signals and Bryan arrived at McGonagall's door very quickly. He knocked three times and waited.

"Ah, Bryan, I'm glad you're here," the professor said, opening the door. "I'll just leave you two alone now." She bustle out of the room and down the hall. Not even Bryan's quick mind could come up with a plausible reason for her behavior before a familiar voice called from inside.

"Please come in, Bryan," he said, his voice gentle, but commanding. Bryan swallowed with nerves and shame as he came face to face with Remus Lupin. Though there were no physical signs of the beating he had taken, the incident stood out firmly in Bryan's mind. As Bryan seemed to have no inclination to speak, Remus got the conversation started. "Minerva has asked me to be a private tutor for you, but before we can work effectively together, we need to resolve the issues that stand between us."

That certainly was not what Bryan had expected. Remus actually wanted to help him with his feelings? Maybe it was more for Remus' good than his own. That thought was comfortable to Bryan and he clung to it. Still, he was anxious and felt very guilty; it was difficult to form words.

"I don't know what to say," he managed to choke out. "I could tell you I'm sorry, but that doesn't seem like much restitution in the face of what I did."

"Bryan, I want to make this very clear," Remus said firmly; Bryan braced himself, "you did nothing wrong." So, Bryan thought, now he's going to play the denial game. But Remus wasn't finished. "You acted exactly as you had been trained to while under a spell you had never faced before. In the end, when it truly counted, you fought it off. Though, if it makes you feel any better, you wouldn't have killed me. The only thing that can kill werewolves is silver." Bryan thought on this for a moment.

"That does explain some things," he said thoughtfully.

"Oh, like what?" Remus asked.

"Well, I've always wondered why Romulus always had something solid silver about him. It would always change, but it was always there."

"Ah, Romulus," Remus smiled sadly, "another issue to be discussed. I feel that I am the one needing to apologize for him, Bryan. You see, Romulus is my brother." Bryan nodded, he'd guessed as much. "When I was bitten, he started to get jealous, said that my parents were spending too much time and energy on a hopeless case. When I got accepted to Hogwarts, he was going into his seventh year. In order to prevent any discomfort for either of us, he was sent to a school in America. We never heard from him again." A deep sadness had come over the man, and Bryan watched, helpless, as he seemed to withdraw from the world for a moment. Quickly, though, he shook himself out of it and smiled warmly and sincerely at him. Bryan felt his mouth twitch into a smile as well.

They worked hard and fast. Bryan found that he was actually rather good at magic, so long as he wasn't performing Legilimency and Occlumency at the same time. By the end of the first session, he had checked off the levitation spell, the jelly-legs jinx, and he could transform a matchstick into a needle (and one that wouldn't light on fire, too). Bryan was very grateful to McGonagall as he strolled back to Gryffindor Tower, in one blow she had removed two of the difficulties facing him.

Leaving only one, gigantic, depressing difficulty. His face fell. With a sigh, he resigned himself to his worries and marched back up to his dorm to, possibly, get some sleep. He was halfway up the stairs when the pain came, sharp and sudden, stinging in his right shoulder. Shaking off the urge to curl up into a ball right there and then, Bryan heaved himself up to the sixth year boys' dormitories.

"Ron!" he called urgently, pounding on the door with his working hand, "Ron! I need your help!" The door swung open just as Bryan was going in for another hard knock (A/N: No pun intended), making him lose his balance and fall at the feet of the boy who had opened it.

"Oy!" the boy exclaimed, kneeling down next to him, "You're Bryan, right? You okay? Sorry Ron isn't here."

"Doesn't matter, you can do it just as well," said Bryan through clenched teeth. "I need you to hex me."

"WHAT?" the boy shouted.

"Hex me!" Bryan repeated loudly. "Body-bind or stunning spell...something to insure that I don't leave while you go get Dumbledore!"

"I don't understand," the boy said.

"I'm being called," Bryan said as evenly as he could. "My owners are trying to get me back and I don't want to go! I can't go!"

"I...I..." the boy stammered.

"It's alright, Seamus. Do as he says and go get Dumbledore, I'll stay with him," Ron's voice was a welcome addition. Seamus nodded, got up, and ran. Ron took his place next to Bryan. The boy hardly noticed, he was so caught up in the pain by now. "It's okay now, Bryan, I'm here. I won't let you go."

"Ron, you don't understand!" Bryan almost shouted. "You can't keep me here with brute strength, I'm too physically powerful for that. It has to be a spell!" Ron hesitated, then stood up and pointed his wand at Bryan.

"Alright," he said shakily, "Petrificus Totalus!" Bryan felt his limbs snap together, all muscular control gone. The pain increased twofold and he found himself fighting back tears, but at least he no longer had to fight the call; he couldn't have answered it now if he'd wanted to. He heard running footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Ron?" he heard Dumbledore ask. "Ron, what's going on?"

"Bryan said his owners were calling him, told Seamus to go get you, and asked me to hex him so that he wouldn't be able to get away," Ron said, almost apologetically. "He seemed so desperate, sir; I petrified him."

All of this Bryan seemed to hear from far away. The pain seemed to be blocking nearly everything else from his mind. It was a new sensation. He had felt pain before, but never like this.

"I understand, thank you Ron, Seamus," the headmaster said, "now please return to your dormitories. I will take it from here. Mobili Corpus."

Bryan was suspended in midair for just a moment. The addition of this second spell doubled the pain anew and he screamed with all of his (considerable) lungpower. Immediately the spell was lifted and he found himself lying - still stiff as a board - in Dumbledore's arms. Then he blacked out.