B-R-Y-A-N

Ron and Hermione were heading for transfiguration when they heard the gunshot. Many students, Ron included, thought someone must have apparated just outside the door; but Hermione, who knew what guns sounded like (and that you can't apparate or disapparate inside Hogwarts!), dragged him out onto the grounds. They pushed their way passed the hushed crowd, including just in time to hear the second spell and watch as Bryan swayed and crumpled to the ground.

Hermione gasped, staring horrified at the boy's body, unable to tell if he was alive or dead. Ron barely seemed to see it, though.

"Pettigrew!" he hissed. Hermione immediately looked up and saw the former Marauder looking back at them nervously. Pettigrew started to sweat and shifted uncomfortably. Hermione had to physically restrain Ron from running off and attacking him.

They watched, helpless, as Romulus took hold of Bryan and the Japanese man, flipped open a box, and portkeyed out. By the time they could tear their eyes away from the scene, Pettigrew had transformed and was out of sight. The other students stood stock still in shocked silence.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione choked, suddenly taking in the rest of the scene. "Look at Remus!"

Ron followed her as she ran across the courtyard to him. Before she could do anything to help, though, Remus struggled to his feet and walked past her. Hermione and Ron fell into step behind him as he limped up to the hospital wing, never saying anything. When he reached the infirmary, he knocked loudly on the wall in a distinct pattern.

Madam Pomfrey bustled out immediately and went straight for him, wand out.

"Merlin's beard, Remus!" she exclaimed. "Where is it?" Remus motioned with his left arm at his right shoulder, throat, and abdomen. Pomfrey raised her wand and muttered a very complex-sounding spell at each of the areas he had indicated. When she was done, Remus sighed.

"Thank you, Poppy," he said, his voice incredibly hoarse. When Ron looked curiously at him, Hermione explained with a murmured: "silver." He nodded sympathetically. Madam Pomfrey looked like she was positively bursting with questions, but Remus pushed a vial into her hands and motioned to the sleeping form in the bed nearest them. "Antidote," he croaked.

Pomfrey's eyes widened along with Ron's and Hermione's, but she took the potion to Harry and tipped it slowly into his mouth. Harry gasped, sighed, and fell into a more natural sleep. She stood there, watching his chest rise and fall with more rapidity and regularity than it had in almost a month; she didn't know what had happened, but somehow, she thought to herself, the danger has passed.

By the time Pomfrey had returned to Remus' side, he too was asleep.

Hermione and Ron were torn between staying with Remus and going to Harry, but before they could decide, the double doors burst open again and Snape walked in, levitating an injured muggle. He placed the man on one of the beds and called Madam Pomfrey over to help him. Hermione and Ron decided that, with the look on Snape's face, they would be better off anywhere but in the same room with him and wandered wearily off to their next class.

It was a good thing, too. As soon as they were gone and Snape caught sight of Madam Pomfrey's infuriatingly curious gaze, he snapped.

"He left!" he roared, causing Pomfrey to shush him harshly. He continued in more controlled - but no less angry - voice. "He left! That idiot Gryffindor left! No faith in us, no faith in himself..." he broke off and drew himself into his cloak with a scowl. Pomfrey was reminded forcefully of a large bat. With a last disdainful sniff, Snape stalked out.

All that the old healer could do, after tending to every wound she could find on both the anonymous Muggle and Remus Lupin, was sit down and wonder what in Merlin's name had happened.

Dumbledore arrived late that evening already weary from his meeting with the school governors; while he was quite grateful indeed that Lucius Malfoy was no longer a governor, at least the man had gotten things done quickly. When the headmaster found Severus Snape waiting for him in his office, it did nothing to improve the situation - namely, the headache that was beginning to throb just behind his right eye. He had a feeling this was going to be one of those longer days.

"Hello Severus," he greeted the potions master warmly, "any news on the illness of Mr. Potter or the location of Remus?" They had realized the day before that Remus had gone missing when he gone to the Hospital Wing for healing after the full moon. Snape snorted ironically.

"Those are the only topics on which I have good news, I'm afraid, Albus," he said. "Earlier today, Mr. Lupin and the antidote were both delivered to us by none other than Peter Pettigrew, Romulus Lupin, and some wizard named Anyo."

"Oh, dear," Dumbledore said simply.

"Indeed. The young prodigy, Bryan, took it upon himself to make the deal that allowed us to secure the antidote. He has now, presumably, been transported back to Nevada with no memory of at least the last two months, if not more. As if that weren't bad enough, Lupin brought along a muggle and had him shot in front of almost two dozen first years - causing them all a great deal of trauma no doubt - and just left him there. I brought him to the hospital wing and he will be fine under Pomfrey's care, but that still leaves the problem of what to do with a muggle in Hogwarts." Dumbledore sighed heavily.

"Very well, thank you Severus. It trust Remus is still in the Hospital Wing?" Snape nodded. "I will go speak with him. We cannot act on a situation until we know more about it." Snape nodded and left. After he was gone, Dumbledore took a moment to collect his thoughts and take a quick headache remedy before heading out himself. As he walked calmly down the hall to the double doors of the infirmary, he found himself cut off by Madam Pomfrey.

"Headmaster," she said quickly before he could open his mouth, "I understand your need to speak with my patients, but they are in dire need of rest. No matter how pressing the subject may be, I will allow you no more than fifteen minutes with the muggle and ten with Remus. Harry is not yet awake and I will not allow you to wake him; the antidote must be allowed to take effect naturally." Not waiting for a response, Madam Pomfrey turned around and pushed the doors open silently.

Dumbledore sighed; Pomfrey was possibly the only person he knew who could order him around and so thoroughly. Reminded him of his mum, actually, which was a disturbing enough thought that he immediately distracted himself with a lemon sherbet.

The muggle was laying calmly, hands flat at his side, staring at the ceiling and muttering to himself. All in all, he was taking his first exposure to magic very well, Dumbledore thought. He walked up and the man looked at him.

"Hello, my name is Albus Dumbledore and I am headmaster of this school," he greeted, smiling warmly. The muggle cocked his head at him.

"My name is Logan and I was a psychoanalyst for IRTOC, though I doubt I hold that post any longer."

"Your name is just Logan?" Dumbledore asked curiously. The muggle nodded miserably.

"It was Logan Williams, but they took my name when they took everything else from me." For a moment, Logan had a faraway look in his eyes, then he snapped back to reality. "What, exactly, is this school? Why did it look like rubble when we were further away?" Dumbledore was slightly taken aback. From the way Bryan had spoken of him, Logan was the kindest man at IRTOC; from that description he had expected a different reaction to the recent events.

"Are you not more worried for Bryan's safety?" he asked curiously. Logan looked at him with kind condescension.

"With all do respect, Mr. Dumbledore," he said, bitter amusement tainting his voice, "Bryan will not come to any harm he has not come to before. Romulus may be a powerful man, but he has people to answer to as well, and they wouldn't be pleased to find their pet project dead.

"As far as his mental well being goes - Bryan's sole defect is a fierce personal loyalty. The only people he need be loyal to are his superiors; instead he clings to whomever shows him kindness, protecting them fiercely. From what I understand of the situation, Bryan gave up his 'freedom' for them," he motioned toward Harry and Remus, "that will be enough to hold him through. It...sits well with him to do the right thing."

"And you," Dumbledore said with a raised eyebrow and a twinkle in his eyes, "where do your loyalties lie?"

"They don't," Logan said with a small snort. "My only loyalties are to myself." Dumbledore fixed him with a piercing stare. "Alright, I'll admit I care for Bryan. But I would not risk my life on some impossible quest to save him; he wouldn't want me to. And I don't suggest you do it either. Heroes only get killed." Dumbledore only smiled at him.

"No one has any intention of going on any impossible rescue missions, I assure you," he said, the twinkle in his eyes. "Now, as for your questions, those will take some time and Madam Pomfrey is currently glaring at me because I have taken entirely too much of your valuable rest time, so I hope you will be willing to wait. I promise you I will provide you with answers." Logan nodded and turned away, but he listened as Dumbledore went to talk to the other man, the one the fat man with the silver hand had roughed up. After all, no one survived long in IRTOC without learning how to learn things.

"Remus, how are you, my dear boy?" Dumbledore said fondly. There was a rustling sound as the man - Remus - changed position. "Dear me. What caused this?" Logan risked a glance at the pair. Dumbledore was looking at Remus' hand.

"Antidote vial," Remus said in an impossibly scratchy voice. "Made of silver." The significance of that was lost on Logan, but Dumbledore nodded sadly.

"Remus, I know you're not feeling well," the old man said, "but I need you to tell me exactly what happened."

"Not much to tell," Remus croaked. "Peter caught me on moon. Tortured me for little bit. Found Bryan. Gave...ultimatum. Me and Harry or freedom. He chose us. Gryffindors were there for last bit, ask them for details." Talking seemed to hurt the man, though, for the life of him, Logan couldn't see why. Sure the man had been pretty beat up before, but that Pomfrey woman had tended to him and now he looked right as rain.

Maybe he has some internal injury, Logan reasoned. He turned back to the conversing men.

"I take it Harry has been given the antidote already?" Dumbledore asked. Remus nodded. "I would have preferred to run some tests on it first, make sure it is not more poison, but I fear our time is too short for that anyway. I will speak with Miss Granger and Mister Weasley and send them up here to stay by his side until he wakes. You just get some rest." Dumbledore smiled kindly and left.

Logan decided that it might be a very good idea indeed to get some sleep. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would wake up and it would all be a dream. This thought made him smile as he drifted off.

He slowly, oh so slowly, woke up. It felt like he was having to claw his way to the top of a very large bowl of molasses. Gradually, he began to be aware of his body again - the elastic of the pajama pants, the weight of the blankets against his hands and feet, the softness of the pillow against his hair, finally his own pulse pounding in his head. Aching eyelids opened slowly, blinking against the light; just a lantern, but blindingly bright to him.

"Harry?" a soft female voice called. Was that his name? Yes; Harry Potter. He looked where the voice was coming from and a vaguely human blur met his eyes. Squinting didn't help, but he did it anyway; until he found the cool metal of his glasses settle on his face again. Now he could clearly see the face. He recognized it.

"Hermione?" he said, his voice more of a hoarse whisper than a real voice. He only noticed then just how dry his mouth was. It seemed Hermione had been expecting this as she handed him a glass of water; and only waited long enough for him to swallow before hugging him fiercely.

"Whoa, Hermione, calm down!" Ron said from his other side. Hermione, embarrassed, allowed Harry to breathe again.

"What's up?" he asked, his brow furrowed with confusion. "Why are you so exited? It was just a knife wound, not all that different from a Quidditch injury, really." They exchanged a look.

"Harry, you've been asleep for almost a month," Hermione said gently. Harry's eyebrows shot up into his fringe.

"What do you mean?" he asked almost frantically. "What happened? The last thing I remember is Malfoy stabbing me and running off, then Bryan bringing me up here to the hospital wing." Hermione nodded.

"Dumbledore says that Malfoy was under a spell, possibly Imperius, that made him stab you," she explained patiently, "and there was a poison on the knife called Somnio Abolesco that slows you down until you die, usually within a month. We've been frantic trying to find the antidote, but nothing was working." Her voice cracked a little on the last sentence and she looked away.

"I'm still confused," said Harry, patting Hermione's arm and looking to Ron. "How am I awake if you couldn't find the antidote?" Ron bit his lip nervously.

"Well, you see mate," he swallowed, "Bryan sort of traded for it. His freedom for yours and Remus' lives." Harry felt all the blood drain from his face. He took a deep, shaky breath and tried to calm himself.

"It's all right, Harry. We'll get him back." The small voice startled them and Hermione whirled around to see who had spoken.

"Professor Lupin!" she exclaimed. "You're supposed to be resting."

"I know, Hermione," Remus said gently, "I just needed to walk around for a bit." He turned back to Harry. "You don't need to worry one bit about Bryan. I'm sure he can take care of himself until we can get him out, and you need to worry about yourself plenty as it is."

"What do you mean?" said Harry. "I'm awake now; the danger's passed, hasn't it?"

"The danger has passed, yes," Remus nodded slightly, "but you've been out of action for almost a month, Harry."

"Yeah, mate," Ron said, punching him playfully in the arm, "you need to get some muscle back on you in time for Quidditch."

"I think Professor Lupin was talking about his studies, Ron," said Hermione, pursing her lips disapprovingly.

"Both, actually. At this time in your education, you need to make sure you stay on top of things; and in this time of your life, you need to make sure you keep your body healthy and strong so that you develop correctly."

"Remus, how are we possibly going to get Bryan back?" Harry asked sadly. "We don't know anything about where he came from."

"That's not entirely true," Remus said. He motioned toward a man standing behind him.

"Hello," the man said cheerfully, his accent thickly American, "I'm Logan. I worked with Bryan for many years at IRTOC. I'd be happy to tell you about the place."

"You worked there?" said Harry incredulously. "And we're supposed to trust you?"

"Bryan trusted him." Harry's head whipped around so fast that it hurt. Malfoy was standing behind Hermione, his head down. The boy continued. "He told me that a man named Logan was the first person he'd ever trusted, even if he couldn't tell him anything. If Bryan trusted him, that's good enough for me."

Harry looked at him until Malfoy's icy blue eyes met his own, then he nodded slightly and turned away. The others looked on in wonder; it was clear something had passed between the two, but one could only guess at what it was. Harry and Malfoy, though, both understood that an apology had been offered and received. Even if they didn't know why, everyone felt the release of tension and noticed Malfoy's suddenly more confident posture.

"That's quite an unexpected compliment, coming from Bryan," Logan said dryly. "Though it does explain why Romulus and Anyo thought to bring me along as a - what did Bryan call it? Ah yes - as a bargaining chip."

"It doesn't seem like he valued you that much if he let you get shot," Ron said bluntly. Hermione hit him across the shoulder, but Logan laughed.

"Bryan is far more intelligent than you give him credit for, Mr. Weasley," he said cheerfully. "He would have known long before anyone else that Anyo's gun was not pointed at my heart, but at my liver. Not instant death, but certainly a fatal wound; in the muggle world anyway. It seems Anyo did not anticipate that anyone would come to my aid. He never was that bright; even got caught once."

"'Got caught'?" Harry's face scrunched up again. "Caught doing what?"

"Kidnapping prodigies," Logan said. His calm face belied the morbidity of his words. "You see, there are two types of security personnel in IRTOC: Expendable Guards (EG's), and Escorts. Escorts guard the X-levels, they run all external studies and information gathering, and they also go out and 'recruit' new scientists. In order to make sure they get the best of the generation, and that they are educated in the ways of IRTOC, these new scientists are taken as child prodigies.

"Anyo used to work as an Escort until he was caught and charged with seven counts of child kidnapping. IRTOC had to bail him out and he hasn't seen the light of day since. Been working as the retro-arms instructor for the EG's as I understand it, though he was allowed down to X-level to train Bryan." It was doubtful that any of them understood everything that Logan had said right away, and while they were digesting it, Madam Pomfrey walked in.

"My goodness!" she exclaimed fiercely. "What is going on here? Remus, Logan, both of you back to bed! I told you that Mr. Potter must wake up on his - oh! You're awake then! I shall go inform the headmaster right away and get a house-elf to bring you some food, Mr. Potter. You two," she said, turning back to Remus and Logan, "back to bed. Now!"

They obeyed and managed to look ashamed enough as they walked and - in the case of Remus - limped back to their respective beds that Madam Pomfrey was satisfied and walked out again. In just moments the two were asleep.

Soon after, a small figure walked in carrying a small tray of steaming soup and warm butterbeer. It seemed like very little food to Harry.

"Dobby wishes Bimmy to tell Harry Potter that he is glad Harry Potter is awake and is hoping Harry Potter is liking his dinner!" the house-elf squeaked, setting the tray down on the table next to Harry's bed.

"Thank you, Bimmy," Harry said, trying his best to hoist himself into a sitting position; he didn't have the strength, though, and Malfoy wordlessly grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted him up, causing Harry to make a rather undignified sound of uncomfortable protest, but he went on speaking to the elf. "Tell Dobby thank you for me."

"Oh, Bimmy will tell Dobby, Harry Potter, sir!" Bimmy bowed and left so fast he seemed to disappear.

Harry, trying to ignore the embarrassed flush he could feel rising in his own cheeks at his inability to do things for himself, grabbed the try firmly and lifted it onto his lap. He was pleased to achieve even such a minor success, even if that pleasure brought more blood to his face.

As he ate, Harry decided it was a good thing there wasn't more food, as he didn't seem to have the best appetite. In fact, by the time he had gotten to the dregs of the soup and finished off the butterbeer he found himself quite full. Hermione and Ron had left midway through his meal, pleading their own hunger. Harry dismissed them with a wave and a smile, he didn't mind. It did, however, make him uncomfortable to be left practically alone with Malfoy.

The Slytherin sat with him in uncomfortable silence for a while, which didn't exactly help.

"So, they say you were under a spell," Harry said finally, deciding upon the direct approach, "do you want to talk about it?" Malfoy made a disheartened, almost shrug-like motion and dropped his head a little further.

"Bryan thought it was cast by my mother," he said softly. "When I first decided that Lucius was wrong, I went to her. Since then we've become really close; I always felt like I could go to her when things went wrong. And now this."

"The ultimate betrayal," Harry finished solemnly. Malfoy nodded. After a pause, Harry laughed ruefully. "What a pair we are. Me: screwed over by fate into losing my family; you: screwed over by your family into abandoning your fate. You never got the chance to tell me why you did it; why you turned away."

"Ah yes," Malfoy looked up and smiled a crooked half-smile, "'A son who is the

theme of honour's tongue/Amongst a grove the very straightest plant/Who is sweet

Fortune's minion and her pride--/Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him/ See riot and

dishonor stain the brow/Of my young Harry.' Henry IV; Shakespeare you know. I find it very apt." With a last brief real smile, Malfoy stood and walked out.