I own nothing except the interpretation of the characters' views.

I had nothing to do and inspiration has left my mind. This is all that's left. I blame the thin line between genius and insanity. Please R&R!

The wind whipped at his face; the cold passed through his bones. Yet he did not shiver. His composure remained calm and controlled, waiting.

He had waited for this for too long.

It was no secret to him now. He had found his father. Everything made sense-and yet nothing made sense at all. The world was a just a twisted character, throwing fates and mixing them with lust, love and hate. And so was the fate of his father.

To lust power,

To love only secretly,

And to hate virtually everything.

Still, he remained perfectly still, not a movement; not a blink. Waiting.

All to suddenly a figure appeared a metre or so in front of him, seeming just an older version of the boy himself.

Both tall and thin, jet-black hair and matching robes in great contrast to their pale skin, blue eyes glinting coldly, they stood face to face.

The wizard put away his wand, tired already from the apparating, but still amazed at how the boy's manner was the same as his own still is, even though they spent practically no time together.

Before going on one of his outings, he had told his son to meet him here. Everything would be explained; all the things the youngster found out would be justified.

Fowl. He had discovered it had been his mother's maiden name, and continued the noble line after her; after he killed his own father of course.

Tom Riddle indeed. More like Artemis Fowl the first.

And they had said he couldn't harm a soul.

He had become the great Lord Voldermort, all mighty and powerful, respected and feared. He was the only one who had achieved immortality. He was the only wizard to be able to completely control the Dark Arts. Yet, he still loved his son, his heir.

And right here in front of him he stood. A direct descendant of the great Salazar Slytherin, aka Salazar Lucius Serpentine Fowl, the first.

How many history books had been fooled? How many lies had been told? Still, his son, a genius by nature, with the highest IQ in Europe, had discovered his true identity. This only further proved how able he was to someday take over his father's ruling position: Minister of Magic.

"Father," was the only word that broke the silence that had descended since the taller individual had arrived.

The taller man gave a dangerous smile, one that would send shivers down any normal person's spine. Of course, his son wasn't normal by any definition, and the smile was returned. Still running through the family, they both acknowledged.

"Hello, Artemis, my son."