Harry Potter/Artemis Fowl Crossover. What would happen if Artemis Fowl again went looking for magic, but stumbled across another brand, then managed to pull The Boy Who Lived into the whole mess? Will NOT be any pairings. Sorry shippers, but if JKR or EC haven't written the relationship, it's not going to happen here.
I'm trying to go against all the clichés here. Takes place during the summer after OotP. Also happens to be roughly two months after the LEP perform Arty & Co.'s mind wipe. I know we're at t-minus 25 days and counting for AF4, and I think it's like 100 for HP6. Needless to say, things in this story will soon be rendered obsolete, but I'm writing it anyway, so there. Harry Potter and Co. belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling. Artemis Fowl and Co. belongs to Eoin Colfer. No copyright infringement is intended.
Artemis Fowl was considered a genius among other things. He was also a chess grand master, an expert in all things technology, and one of the most brilliant Physicists the world had ever seen. All of this was even more astounding by the fact that he was only fourteen years old.
Artemis also possesed other qualities that were of a more undesirable nature. He was the only heir of the Fowl family, one of the most widely known families in the criminal world. Most of the family's fortune had been achieved by less than legal means; something that Artemis had largely contributed to during the time his father had been missing. Some might have considered him to be unethical, amoral, and an all around delinquent. Artemis felt it was a well-earned reputation.
However, Artemis Fowl the Second was finding himself in a sort of internal dilemma. While the past couple years had been very productive for the Fowl bank account, mostly due to Artemis's 'business' skills, he found it to be a sort of blur. In fact, many of the details were vague or gone completely.
For instance, there was a fair amount of gold bullion in the family vault in Zurich that had a very unusual symbol stamped into it. Artemis could recall that it had been obtained through a kidnapping and wile he had come out on top, he hadn't gotten as much as he had been aiming for. However, the rest of the situation was a vague recollection. The only other thing he could dredge up was that kidnapping was a distasteful activity, even if it could be quite lucrative.
The same Zurich account had also received a money transfer only a month prior. Artemis knew that he had caused Jon Spiro's incarceration and that he had relieved the man of roughly 2.8 billion dollars, but he was torn over which bothered him more, the fact that the whole incident was a blur, or that he had only kept ten percent of the money.
And then there were his parents. About a year and a half ago, his father had been missing, presumably dead. As a result, his mother had steadily been going insane. Now, his father had been rescued and his mother had made a miraculous recovery. Again, details were hazy, but he couldn't help but feel he was partially responsible for both. In fact, he was constantly plagued by a nightmare in which he was staring down the scope of a rifle aimed at his father. His finger would close in on the trigger, and when the gun fired, he would wake with a start.
Artemis found these recent lapses in memory to be quite disturbing. His mind was very much a part of who he was, and if these holes continued to occur well, he didn't really want to think about that scenario.
He rubbed his eyes and shifted his attention back to his computer monitor. Despite his splotchey memory, there was a nagging notion that had been tickling the back of his brain. At first, he had ignored it due to the sheer absurdness of the idea, however, it wouldn't be ignored and finally he had caved and given in to the subject. Artemis now found himself scrolling through the Google results on the word 'magic'.
Most of the search results were what he would have expected to find. Fan sites for children's books, tutorials on how to perform card tricks, worship sites for Wiccans, none of it really satisfied the nagging voice. While he couldn't explain it, even to himself, he was searching for a different 'kind' of magic.
Something in the summary of a site caught his eye and he clicked on the link. It led to a blog, and he quickly skimmed the entry. Most of it was irrelevant; nonsense about the author's day to day life, but at the end, it read, 'Richard's right I think. Most Muggles find it novel to dance around and pretend magic's real. In the end, they to stupid to realize they need not pretend. It's right under their nose.'
Artemis hadn't been able to pinpoint what, exactly, it was about that statement that had rung so familiar with him, but he soon found himself leaving a comment that if the author wanted to talk magic, he would be willing to pay. It had taken a couple days, but finally, the author responded, sounding skeptical that Artemis was serious. He was finally able to convince her that he was, indeed, serious and they had scheduled a meeting to take place.
Ultimately, the most difficult part had been coming up with an excuse for him to leave Fowl manor unexpectedly. After assuring his parents that his physics class was taking a trip to a laboratory in London, he had managed to be on his way.
Butler of course accompanied him, and as he navigated the streets of London, Artemis watched him closely. His old friend had been a source of concern recently, as some sort of change seemed to have taken place. As if struck down by the hand of God, Butler had suddenly become weaker and more easily winded. Nothing about his physical appearance seemed to be amiss, but he was finding tasks more laborious and struggled to cover his short breath as he did something as simple as climb a flight of stairs.
Artemis returned his attention back to his PowerBook. The computer screen showed his most recent efforts to dredge up more information concerning magic, but he hadn't been able to find anything that he deemed reliable since he had run across the journal entry. He had a sneaking suspicion that something was being hidden from him. Something would surface that seemed useful, but once he tried to follow the link, it would be gone. This was no fire wall, nothing that could be hacked, just gone entirely. The whole situation frustrated Artemis to no end. He prided himself on his computer skills, but it seemed that there was someone out there managing to stay one step ahead of him.
"Artemis, we're here." Butler informed him, breaking him out of his thoughts. He snapped the laptop shut and reached back to place it on the back seat of the car.
The only information he possessed on the subject was rather elementary. Magical people preferred to call themselves witches and wizards, and referred to non-magical people as Muggles. He frowned at the word. He couldn't help but feel that it sounded like an insult, like the term mud man. His frown suddenly deepened. Where had that come from? He could almost recall a rather short woman spitting the word at him. He tried to grasp tighter on the memory, but it disappeared as quickly as it had surfaced.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Butler asked, looking worried at his charge's expression. It was very unlike the boy to be perplexed with anything, and Butler couldn't help but admit that the whole subject seemed to make him sick to his stomach. He wasn't sure why, but there seemed to be something in the back of his mind that screamed for him to stay as far away from it as possible. However, his loyalty to Fowl over-road it.
"Yes, this woman claims that she can give us access to a hidden location within the city." Artemis actually sighed and Butler gave him a concerned look. "I can't just let this die. Anytime I try to shove it from my conscience, it comes back two fold. It's... unsettling to say the least."
Butler had parked the Bentley on the street in front of a coffee shop and Artemis opened his door, stepping onto the curb. He automatically straightened his tie and smoothed down the front of his jacket. Regardless of the importance of this person, he always preferred to make a good impression.
"Thank you Butler." He said as the man shut the car door behind him. As they went inside, Artemis noticed that there were only two people in the coffee shop, a man standing at the counter and a rather strangely dressed woman sitting at a table in the corner.
The woman was wearing a top hat with a rather large bouquet of flowers resting on the brim, a red sweater vest over a navy blazer, a green polka dotted skirt, and hot pink galoshes. She looked to be about thirty-five and was gnawing on the rim of her Styrofoam coffee cup. The woman met his eyes and he headed over to the table.
"Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes." Personally Artemis hated code words as he viewed himself to be above it, but she had insisted.
"Sit," the woman replied, studying him carefully. He did so and Butler took to standing behind him. "So, you reckon magic's real, do you?"
"I doubt I'd be here if I didn't," Artemis replied in his cool even tone.
"I've got to tell you that it's a dangerous place for a Muggle to be sticking his nose, what with You Know Who back." Her face clouded over and she frowned. "I'll tell you what you want to know, but I can't in good conscious send you off without a warning. He Who Must Not Be Named is out there and it's you Muggles he's after. Suppose you let someone in the magical world know what you are and there's a Death Eater lurking about. Dead before you could even cry for help."
"I don't think you could have made that statement any less vague." She opened her mouth to protest, but Artemis continued. "Regardless, I'm in very capable hands."
She looked up at Butler somewhat skeptically, but didn't comment. "Fine, suit yourself. Let's see the money." Artemis hefted a case onto the table and opened it.
"15,100 in British pounds," he said and watched as she pulled out a scrap of paper and a small quill that seemed to be made out of a pigeon feather. She appeared to be doing some sort of conversion and mumbled something about '500 galleons...'. Finally, she seemed satisfied.
"Alright, I'll tell you," she said, a hand resting on the case. "There's a magical place only a block from here. I'll give you the address."
Artemis waited for her to continue and when she didn't, he frowned. "That seems like a rather small piece of information for that much money."
"Yes, well as they say, 'size doesn't matter'." She shrugged, "Besides, I find it very unlikely that you have anyone else lined up to give you this information. There's a sort of desperate hunger in your eyes."
Artemis was annoyed by the fact that she could see anything but a cold calm in him. It was true, he did have a desperate desire to discover more about magic. It continued to tickle the back of his mind, hinting that more information was locked away, just out of reach.
"You're giving me an address then?" he asked. "And what will I find there?"
"It's for a place called The Leaky Cauldron."
"Sounds charming," Artemis said in a cold drawl.
"Well, if you're as clever as you seem to think, that's all the information you'll need." She seemed to be growing annoyed with his demeanor. "Here," She scribbled something on a piece of paper and slid it over to him. Artemis's eyes glanced over the paper once, memorizing the address. He then folded it in half and tucked it in the breast pocket of his blazer. "Good," she said, "seems business is settled." Her hand closed around the handle of the case and was about to stand, but seemed to decide against it. "I'm not much for heavy-handed warnings and doom and gloom, really that's more of my sister's department, but with the state of things... I'm warning you again. Magic shouldn't be taken lightly. It's not all about turning mice to snuff boxes. A wizard armed with a wand and a couple well chosen words could kill someone just as easily as your bodyguard and his gun."
"Yes, the world's a dangerous place. I'm a Muggle, not stupid," Artemis said, examining his well manicured nails.
"As far as most are concerned, there isn't a difference," she said with a shrug.
"All of your concerns are noted." He said, putting a note of finality in his voice. "If there isn't anything else, I really must be going." She shook her head and he stood and went to the door, Butler closely following.
Martha Quickspick sighed heavily once they had passed through the doors. She had a bad feeling about the whole deal. Muggle or not, there was something special about that boy and she didn't know if it had been such a smart move to give him access to the wizarding world.
Most wizards would be scandalized at what she had just done, but she felt justified in her reasoning. Martha was a squib and it was her belief that although she had been denied magical ability, she would still get something out of it. This boy's money would do nicely. She stood and decided that she might as well floo into Diagon Alley to make a deposit in Gringots. The sooner she finished her business there, the less likely she would be to run into the boy again.
Draco Malfoy found himself in a worse mood than usual that afternoon. Much of it was due to the fact that it had taken the entire morning to convince his mother to let him do his school shopping by himself. He was, after all, sixteen years old and if he could survive Hogwarts under the reign of terror that was Albus Dumbledore, then he was more than capable of an afternoon in Diagon Alley.
He suspected that his father's absence was starting to make his mother feel very lonely. Contrary to popular belief, his parents did enjoy each other's company and had married out of love as well as to preserve the blood lines. He had been forced to spend an excessive amount of time with her this summer, this trip to Diagon Alley was his first outing alone.
Draco had almost gotten everything he had come for. The last thing he needed was a new set of robes, and he headed for Madam Malkin's. As he stepped through the doors, he groaned inwardly. Standing on the two fitting stools were Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Waiting by the door was Harry Potter.
As was typical with any of Draco's encounters with them, Weasley's face was flushing with anger and Granger put a restraining hand on his shoulder. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" he demanded.
"Well, I thought it should be obvious. Hogwarts does still require students to wear school robes, doesn't it?" Draco was more interested in Potter's reaction, but he merely had his arms casually crossed across his chest and he was pointedly staring outside. He found himself annoyed that Potter was showing a shred of self control. Draco didn't like being treated as if he wasn't worth the attention. He would have to push a little harder. "But actually, Weasley, I should ask you the same thing. I thought your mother usually dyed some sheets and made them into robes."
"If you must know, the Weasley's are doing quite well for themselves," Granger cut in, but Draco wasn't listening to her. Instead, he found himself perplexed that Potter had actually smirked at the 'dyed sheets' comment. However, his stare had lingered to long, because Potter's eyes fixed in on him. Draco didn't receive the emotional outburst he had been expecting.
Potter regarded him coolly and with the barest of a smirk asked, "How's your father?"
"Better than your Godfather, I'd suspect," Draco replied.
"I wouldn't be so sure," Harry said, again looking out the window. "Doesn't seem like Azkaban could be all that enjoyable."
Draco's face darkened into a scowl and he considered lunging at Potter. That thought was interrupted, however, when Madam Malkin came in.
"Alright dears, I can mark up the rest of your robes from these." She helped Ron and Hermione out of the pinned up robes and handed them a scrap of parchment. Harry had abandoned his post at the window and produced a bag of coins. It seemed he had already had his fitting. After they had paid, the three of them made their way out the door, each pointedly not looking in Draco's direction. He suspected that it cost Weasley every ounce of self control, as Ron's fists were clenched tightly making his knuckles turn white.
Once the door had swung shut, Madam Malkin shifted her attention to him. "Mr. Malfoy, here for your school robes as well?" Draco noticed a sort of coldness in her voice that hadn't been present prior to his father's incarceration.
'Yes,' Draco thought, 'so much I have Harry Potter to thank for.'
Artemis Fowl was puzzled and he didn't care for the sensation. The slip of paper the woman had given him read 317 ½ Marks Street. At the moment, he and Butler were standing between 317 Marks Street and 318 Marks Street. There wasn't an alley way between the two, just a smooth brick transition from the book shop to the record store.
Artemis didn't take out the slip of paper to re-examine the address. He knew there wasn't a problem with his memory, only with the directions. He stood there for a good five minutes, Butler remaining behind him. Artemis started to examine the area where 317 ½ should exist, wondering what he could possibly be missing.
It was then that an oddly dressed man came up the walk towards him. Artemis's attention momentarily flicked towards him. As the man approached, he frowned at Artemis and stopped a few paces away from him. Something about the man's clothing reminded him of the woman back in the café and on a hunch, he asked, "Are you headed for The Leaky Cauldron?"
The man gave him a bewildered look, "Course I am. Watcha doing out here staring at it? You'll make the Muggles think something's up."
Artemis decided to go with the truth. "I'm trying to decide how it works."
To his surprise, relief actually spread over the man's face and he chuckled slightly. "So you're on of them kids, Trying to figure how science fits into it all. If you ask me, it's not worth it. Aint nothing Muggle science can do that magic can't, and then magic can do so much more. Won't catch them teaching science at Hogwarts would you?" The man laughed and patted Artemis on the shoulder. Artemis frowned and Butler stepped in closer, but the man had already removed his hand.
"Anyway, you really should come inside. Like I said, don't want to make the Muggles suspicious. Before you know it, Ministry officials called in and obliviators up and down the street." The man was now making his way towards the brick wall. Artemis followed somewhat uncertainly. He was, after all, a firm believer in the laws of physics.
But the closer they drew to the wall something about it seemed to change. The brick was becoming transparent and the book shop and record store were scooting away from each other. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of a rather rundown pub.
Artemis wasn't easily impressed, but at the moment, he was fighting to keep his jaw from gaping open. Even Butler (who Artemis firmly believed had seen just about everything), looked stunned. Luckily for them, the wizard hadn't noticed their expressions and was already heading in to The Leaky Cauldron. Artemis recovered quickly and beckoned for Butler to follow him into the pub.
The interior of The Leaky Cauldron was rather dim and dingy. A wrinkled old man was behind the bar and there were a handful of people sitting at tables near a fireplace large enough for people to stand in.
The bartender looked up at them as they entered and frowned slightly at Artemis and Butler. He smiled however, at the man they had gone in with. "Francis, didn't expect to see you in today."
"Seems Marcy went and grew herself a second head. If you ask me, she mixed up her potion ingredients. I had to take her to St. Mungos, so I'm down here while she gets it all sorted out."
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that." Artemis, however, had noticed that the bartender was reaching for a bottle on the back of the bar. "Can I get you the usual?"
"Actually no," Francis said, apologetically holding up a hand. "Need to pick up a few things. Used the last of the floo powder taking Marcy to Mungos."
"I understand," the bartender said, putting the glass back down. "Well perhaps if you get done early." Artemis was wondering why on earth Francis had entered a pub only to say he had business elsewhere.
"Are you headed for Diagon Alley?" Artemis realized Francis was talking to them.
"Ah, yes we are." Artemis was glad that they would be getting the chance to see another magical place. He had been wondering if the woman had just given him some shabby pub.
"Suppose you might as well come in with me. I guess you're not allowed to do magic on holiday." He looked to Butler, who up until that point had merely been acting as a presence behind Artemis, but when Artemis didn't give any sort of explanation, Francis shrugged. "Well, to Diagon Alley then."
Francis led them deeper into the pub and out a side door into a small court yard. Artemis was beginning to wonder if the man had lost his mind because there was barely enough room in this courtyard for the three of them to stand. He, however, reminded himself that the front of The Leaky Cauldron had appeared to be nothing but a brick wall. Sure enough, after Francis rapped a brick with a length of wood, an archway opened up and beyond was a vast, bustling street lined with shops.
Artemis was surprised that the fact that there was a secret wizard marketplace in the heart of London wasn't all that shocking to him. 'It's really like the city Haven,' he found himself thinking, but before he could recall anything else about New Haven, it slipped away, like a fragment of a dream.
"Artemis, something strange is going on." Butler's deep voice interrupted his thoughts. He had an expression of concern on his face that looked about how Artemis felt. It occurred to him that perhaps Butler was also dealing with elusive fragments of unknown memories. It made sense, considering Butler had escorted him everywhere for as long as Artemis could remember.
"This isn't exactly something most people would call normal," Artemis quipped.
"That's not what I mean." He had figured as much, but he let Butler continue. "This makes me remember bits of something that I can't remember happening. Every time I try to give it more thought, it dissolves."
Artemis sighed heavily. "I understand. Something here is familiar, even though I've never been here before. We need to figure out what that is." Butler nodded absentmindedly, but he still looked troubled. "I have hope," Artemis said, trying to reassure his friend. "The deeper I dig, the more seems to float to the surface."
Harry Potter wasn't particularly listening to what Justin Finch-Fletchley was saying to him. They both stood on wooden stools in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Ron and Hermione were standing by the door, waiting for their fittings.
Harry kept nodding every few minutes, giving Justin the illusion that he way paying attention. Ron was staring, slack-jawed, at Finch-Fletchley. The Hufflepuff hadn't stopped talking for the past ten minutes, and Hermione started to giggle as Harry's eyes glazed over. She struggled to cover it with a hacking cough and Harry frowned trying to pay attention to what Justin was saying.
"Right then, you two are finished," Madam Malkin said, interrupting Justin. "I'll go and tally up your orders."
"Actually, I'm waiting for Ron and Hermione," Harry said, and Madam Malkin went off to take care of Justin's payment. After putting his account in order, Finch-Fletchley was almost through the door when he paused. Obviously with something on his mind.
"Harry, I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry about your Godfather."
"Erm, thanks," Harry said, trying to keep his face from clouding over. However, once Justin had gone, he had a harder time containing himself. "I'm so glad people believed in me once the truth was practically waved in their face."
"Well, in his defense, he believed you about Voldermort. After all, he was in the D.A." Hermione was right of course, but he was in a bad mood and didn't feel like being consoled.
"Well, it is good that they cleared Sirius's name, isn't it?" Ron asked. He looked apprehensive, as if afraid he would blow up and Harry felt a stab of regret. "After all, it's the least they could do."
The subject was still sore for Harry so thankfully Madam Malkin's arrival with two more robes excused him from discussing the subject further. He took to staring out the window. It was a habit that he had recently fallen into even though he knew it was terribly transparent as a cover for mulling over recent events. He almost grinned at the unintended pun. It was cut short by someone he spotted outside.
"Malfoy's coming," Harry said, sounding as if he had swallowed something revolting.
Hermione actually sighed audibly and Ron was quickly turning red in the face. "That git's going to get what's coming to him this year," he fumed. "Mark my words, he's got no High Inquisitor to hide behind and his father's finally been exposed for what he really is."
The door to the shop opened with a tingle of a bell and Draco Malfoy stepped inside. It didn't take him long to notice his fellow patrons. Harry watched as Malfoy grimaced at Ron and Hermione, knowing it would only be a matter of time before he noticed that Harry was standing behind him. As if on cue, he turned and frowned at him.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ron demanded. Harry knew the situation was going to escalate. How could it not?
Professor Dumbledore had been teaching him occlumency over the past two months. With it, he had been stressing that Harry learned to recognize times he was being provoked, but more importantly, how to ignore it. Dumbledore had conveniently been called away with Order business for three of the lessons, leaving Snape to fill in. Hermione was convinced that it was really because Snape could provoke and test Harry's self control much more thoroughly than Dumbledore could. Harry was inclined to agree.
Harry began to look out the window again. It was important that he didn't rise to any bait that Malfoy may decide to dangle. He tried his best to ignore that he was even in the room. Out of sight, out of mind. However, Malfoy's cold, drawling voice refused to be ignored.
"Well, I thought it should be obvious. Hogwarts does still require students to wear school robes doesn't it?" Harry's fists clenched, but he kept his arms crossed and eyes glued to the window. In all actuality, Malfoy was being rather mild. "But actually, Weasley, I should ask you the same thing. I thought your mother usually dyed some sheets and made them into robes."
The comment reminded Harry of the summer before he had started at Hogwarts. His Aunt Petunia had been planning something very similar for his Muggle school uniform. The relief on escaping it caused a smirk to twitch across his lips. Harry caught Draco looking at him and a general loathing bubbled into his mind. He tried to remember what Dumbledore had been drilling into him all summer. Harry started out the window again, his eyes glazed and unfocused. However, he couldn't resist goading Malfoy. "How's your father?"
"Better than your Godfather, I'd suspect." Draco shot back.
At the mention of Sirius, the pit of Harry's stomach dropped out and anger rose in his chest. He fought with himself not to turn around and get into a fight with Malfoy. Somehow, he managed to keep his response detached and cool. "I wouldn't be so sure. Doesn't seem like Azkaban could be all that enjoyable." Although his arms were still crossed at his chest, he was clenching and unclenching his fists, wanting to wring Malfoy's neck. All he could think about was his activities in the Inquisitorial Squad.
The tension broke when Madam Malkin entered again. "Alright dears, I can mark up the rest of your robes from these." Harry moved forward to pay. They were going to have them sent to Fred and George's shop so they wouldn't have to carry all their parcels around with them. On the way out, Harry kept his eyes forward, being careful not to even glance in Malfoy's direction.
When the three of them were outside in the sunlight, Ron started ranting about Malfoy and Hermione tried to shush him, noticing that several people were staring. Two of these people caught Harry's eye. They seemed to be a little out of place. The boy was about fourteen and he had a massive man standing behind him. The man was probably at least seven feet tall and looked like he could easily crush anyone who crossed him.
Both were dressed as Muggles, but not with the sort of ineptness of most wizards trying to blend in with Muggles. Their clothing looked incredibly expensive to Harry, and the boy seemed to exude high status, not all that unlike Malfoy. Harry didn't recognize either of them and he found this a little odd. The boy certainly wasn't from Hogwarts, and it wasn't all that common for foreign wizards to come to Diagon Alley. The often preferred to go to their local counterpart.
"Ruddy underage wizard act," Ron was mumbling. "When we get back to Hogwarts, Malfoy's not going to know what hit him."
"Hey, look over there." Harry nudged Ron in the side and he looked in the direction Harry was gesturing to. He gave Harry a blank look.
"Yeah, so?"
"What are you two staring at?" Hermione asked. The boy was staring back at them with narrowed eyes.
"Come on, we can talk about it in Fred and George's shop." Harry said, starting to walk away. Hermione and Ron followed him up the street and Harry cast one last look over his shoulder, only to be unnerved that they were still staring at him. He grimaced and hoped that it was all a product of an overactive imagination.