"I've never been under the Imperious Curse myself, thank goodness," Remus Lupin said quietly.  "So I honestly can't know what it's like."

Brogan Marchent smiled faintly from across the table, his eyes willingly meeting Remus'.  "Like sleepwalking.  No, that's not a good description.  You know when you're half-asleep, you can still sense happenings in the awake world, just barely.  It's peaceful, really.  You want to go back to sleep so much and have that peace that you will do whatever they want you to do."

"Except you're being forced into it."

Brogan chuckled dryly and nodded.  "Yep, that's it.  By the sound of you, Lupin, I think you actually want to be placed under the Curse."

Three days had passed since Remus had witnessed the strange midnight meeting.  As soon as he had transformed back into a human, he had returned to the Order's Headquarters, ready to report.  Except. . . except he had said little;  only that Brown was indeed worthy of suspicion.  He couldn't explain his silence even to himself.  Perhaps that built-in need for secrecy from being a werewolf and his years as a Marauder was returning full-swing.  Or perhaps he was spending too much time with Harry.  Perhaps a mixture of both was to blame.  Whatever the reason, he wanted to say nothing else until he had proven his theory.  And so he had returned to Dragon's Tooth that morning, ready to dig the mines of information the village had to held.  His first source:  the once-Imperioused Brogan Marchent.  They sat in the pub, like two perfectly normal men having a drink, talking.

Remus laughed, sipping his drink.  "I think I'll pass a chance to be Imperioused.  But back to what you were saying, about being forced to do something.  I can't help but think that a victim could also be made to do something he wouldn't necessarily mind doing of his own free will."

"Duh."

"I used to be a teacher;  I'm used to be painfully obvious.  Anyway, that's why the Curse was such a problem during the first war.  No one was sure of the levels of willingness."

"Not when lying can be so simple," Brogan said.  He smiled mischievously.  "For all you know, I could have been lying."

"I happen to trust you," Remus replied.  "You even said you tried to fight the Curse.  So it can be fought?"

"Only by the strong," Brogan answered sadly.

"But I've another question for you.  You do know what the Dementors are?"

Brogan gave an involuntary shudder, smile fading.  "Doesn't everyone?  The ex-guards of Azkaban."

"You haven't seen any around Dragon's Tooth, have you?"

Brogan's face paled.  "Should I have?  No, never.  I've never even heard of any."

Remus took in the information.  So the attack couldn't have been three days ago.  His theory was going fine.  "Well, that's good.  No one likes Dementors.  Especially what they do their victims."

"Lupin, don't even talk about it."

"The Dementor's Kiss.  Sucking out a human soul through those gaping holes they call mouths.  Leaving an empty corpse with a  beating heart and breathing lungs and nothing else."

"That's disgust… ."  Brogan's eyes widened, and he stared at Remus in amazement.  Then he laughed.  "A perfectly good body, despite the lack of a personality."

"A puppet."  Remus could scarcely believe himself.  His theory had just been spoken aloud.  "Pretend you are some evil minion of Lord Voldemort.  You want armies under your command.  But not everyone is willing to join.  And those you do get might fight their ways free, eventually.  But you also have the Dementors on your side."

Brogan slammed his mug down on the tabletop, slashing whiskey everywhere.  "That's the most twisted thing I have ever heard of.  So who are you suggesting is our Dementor-victim puppet?"

Remus smiled and finished off his drink with one gulp.  "I don't trust you that much, Mr. Marchent.  It was a pleasure running this by on you, though."  He made ready to remove the silencing charm, but Brogan spoke up again.

"Dormand," he said eagerly.  "We already know whose side he's on.  Or Winston Morsely or Valentine Munk—I still don't trust them.

Remus casually glanced to the side.  Valentine herself sat at a table on the other side of the pub, writing with her characteristic fury on a piece of parchment.  Brogan hadn't seen her.  Thank goodness the silencing charm was still on.  "I can't answer anything," he said calmly.  "Maybe another time."

Brogan sighed and extended his hand for Remus to shake.  "I can understand that.  This place is crazy."

Remus shook Brogan's hand.  "Wait. I do have one more question.  When you were under the Curse, what were you told to do?"

Brogan thought for a long time, various expressions flowing across this face and remaining for mere seconds.  "I honestly don't remember.  I guess it was just to… attack.  But I couldn't tell you if it was to attack Percy and Penelope or just anyone."

Hopefully anyone, Remus thought.  Any specific victims would mean they were known.  "Thank-you again."

"If it is Dormand you're thinking of, I'll probably wind up killing him anyway, sometime soon."

Remus couldn't tell if Brogan were serious or kidding.  "I'm removing the spell now.  We were discussing women."

"Ooh.  Good topic."

Remus chuckled, removed the spell, and paid for his drink.  He passed Valentine on his way out.  She was writing faster than he thought humanly possible, her pale face flushed with excitement.  Evidently inspiration had struck her.  He spent a moment watching her with mild curiosity, then left. 

The light of the setting sun was strangely  harsh after the dim pub.  He blinked, wishing he owned a pair of Muggle sunglasses.  Or at least knew a charm with the same affect.

"Mr. Lupin!"

He managed to gain enough control over his eyes to see Penelope Clearwater hurrying towards him—and Percy Weasley right behind her. 

"Hello, Penelope," he said warmly.  He met Percy's eyes.  "Percy."

"Where have you been?" Penelope asked.  "We've been looking for you.  We've something to tell you."

"I. . . left."  He glanced around.  The street was empty.  "I just got back today."

"You didn't speak to my parents, did you?" Percy asked, his eyes still on Remus'.

"No. I promised you I wouldn't."

Percy visible relaxed.

"Now. You've something to tell me?"

"Percy said you found Dormand's body," Penelope said softly.  "He was like he had been kissed by a Dementor.  He's. …"

"He's up and kicking," Remus finished.  "I know. I saw him too.  Has he…. Has he done anything?"

"Besides hide in that closet of an office and give silly orders?"  Percy shook his head.  "No."

"Remember that bottle I took from his office?"

He frowned.  "Yes."

"It's Polyjuice potion."

"Polyjuice potion?"  Understanding filled Penelope's face.  "Oh!  Percy, you didn't say anything about that!"

"How was I supposed to know?" he replied, cowering back.  "And what does that have to do with a Dementor?"

"Has Dormand ever seemed… not himself?" Remus asked.

"I barely  know him," Percy hissed.  "How am I supposed to know who he is?"

"His features.  Has he ever seemed like someone else?"

The lack of reply was answer enough.

Penelope grabbed Percy's hand, a gesture that surprised Remus.  "You didn't say anything about that."

"I didn't think of it like that.  I didn't even know what to think.  It was like a shift in his face.  I thought it was the light."

Percy was hiding a big clue. "Did he look like someone else?" Remus pressed.  "Did you recognize him?"

Percy tore his eyes from Remus' gaze, not speaking.

"Percy," Peneope begged.  "Did you recognize anything?"

Percy's eyes were suddenly back on Remus.  "I don't know what you're getting at.  I'm not in the Order!  Just because I work for someone doesn't mean I have to be utterly responsible for them."  He sighed and looked to Penelope.  "I'll see you tomorrow, Penny."

"Percy!" she shrieked as he walked off.

"What's he hiding?" Remus asked. 

Penelope stared in the direction Percy had gone.  "That Crouch incident.  He's still sensitive about it.  I'm sorry, Lupin.  I'll see if I can't get more out of him."

"And why did he call you Penny?"

The worry on her face slackened as she smiled.