AN:The idea of OFUs belongs to Miss Cam, who wrote the great Fanfiction University of Middle Earth. I defer entirely to her. I merely came up with this variation.

If you don't know what an OFU is, then you will probably figure it out by the end of this chapter.

I'm going to need admissions from you lot; as of now, admission is OPEN. More details at the end of this chapter.

Chapter 1

'Torchie! The trollz wing has burned down again!'

'Miss E! The Student accommodation has disappeared!'

'Sherly! Have you filled out those forms yet?'

The object of these queries sighed and dropped her head in her hands. 'Get a time stop up over the wing and rebuild it, stat. And repair the firewall- the flames shouldn't be getting through. If the student accommodation has disappeared, I will be very surprised, so I suggest that you go and check you didn't get lost and wander onto the lawn by mistake. I'm sure it's here, and the reason for that, you see, very simply, is because I can see it from my window. It's a building, they tend to stay put. And no, I haven't filled out those forms, because you gave them to me half an hour ago and I've been busy, and do not call me Sherly.' The death glare accompanying this last was enough to make the recipient flee in fear. The other staff members muttered thank-you s and also departed, leaving the Headmistress of The Official Fanfiction University of Artemis Fowl to collapse on her desk and go back to sleep.

The University itself was nearly finished. The teams of building gnomes had departed the previous day, and aside from the incident with the trollz containment area (which was quickly being subsumed beneath the blue dome of a time stop) the buildings stood proudly in the Irish sunlight. The grounds were neat and clean, largely because the Students had not arrived yet. That wasn't until tomorrow, where the proud OFU tradition of Learning Through Pain would begin.

Jeanne finished typing out the last chapter of her story, the Holly And the iVy, and saved it proudly. She peered at the screen, frowning at those red lines squiggling across her page. Word must be broken. Some of them had green lines as well.

Ah, well. She shrugged and opened up the internet, navigating to FanFictionNet. Her story was really popular- it had garnered tons of reviews, although some of them weren't very nice- making all kinds of comments about spelling and grammar. And about some kind of cannon, although Jeanne had no idea what that was meant to mean. But a lot of people liked it, right? Some of them had told her that her character, Ivy, was a Mary Sue. Jeanne didn't know what that was so she'd googled it and found out that it was a perfect character. So they were saying Ivy was perfect? Had to be a good thing. Jeanne grinned in anticipation as she submitted her story. Rave reviews, here I come!

There were no rave reviews. Jeanne refreshed her page impatiently. Still nothing. She refreshed it again. Ah, there we go! Jeanne clicked on the review, which appeared in a separate window. They weren't supposed to do that, were they? She shrugged. Obviously FanFictionNet had done a layout change.

Wow. This review was long. Jeanne frowned at the screen as she began to read.

Dear Miss Jeanne M. Paige,

We have been monitoring your story and have decided to offer you a scholarship to OFUAF, a school especially developed for writers such as yourself. You will attend this school beginning tomorrow, or will be prohibited from writing fanfiction for Artemis Fowl ever again. If you graduate from OFUAF, you will be granted a license to write fanfiction.

Do not worry about packing, or about school fees or travel arrangements; we have arranged everything for you. Please fill out the application form below, and enjoy your evening. I'd make the most of it if I were you.

Yours,

Miss Sherlock Emrys, Headteacher, OFUAF

APPLICATION FORM

Jeanne stopped reading there, frowning at the screen. A scholarship? For writers? Was this some sort of trick? No, it looked official. So she was chosen specially for this school? Obviously, people were finally recognising her literary talent. Although, what kind of school name was OFUAF? And what kind of headteacher was called Sherlock Emrys? That must be a pen name, or something.

Little did Jeanne know, she was- actually- completely right. Sherlock Emrys was indeed the pen name of the Headmistress, and she had been chosen especially because of her writing talent. It was the lack of it that had got her chosen, but she didn't realize that yet. Jeanne shrugged and began to fill out the application form. It couldn't do any harm.

Name/Nickname: Jeanne Paige.

Gender: female

Species: Huh? Well, Jeanne was actually human, but that was boring wasn't it? Who asks that anyway? She put down half fairy half pixie half human instead. Just like Ivy, her character.

Age: 15

BRIEF physical description: Jeanne looked in the mirror, wrinkled her nose, and began to describe herself. Well. She exaggerated slightly, but only a little bit. Tall, with pale whyte skin liek snwo, an jet balck hair leik ravens wings, and bright blue eyes like sapires and relly pretty an beautiful an perfect curbs an Jeanne's cursor stopped. Jeanne frowned and tried to type again. Her computer chimed and a little box appeared.

We said BREIF.

Jeanne scowled at her computer. How could you describe somebody in less than a paragraph? She moved on to the next question.

Powers, if any: Magyk! An I can fly and read minds!

Favourite Character from Artemis Fowl: Arty! Hes, liek, so coll!

Least Favourite character: Hooly. Shes such a troll an shes so mean to arty!

What stories have you written for Artemis Fowl? The holly an Yhe IvY

Do you know what a Mary Sue is? Uhh isn't it like a perfect person an stuff?

How many of the Artemis Fowl books have you read? I read, like, Atlantis Compelx but it was boring so I only got halfway through

Thank you for completing this form. I hope you will survive your time at OFUAF, because it's a bloody pain to fill out the paperwork when one of the students dies.

-Miss Emrys

Jeanne frowned. She didn't exactly understand the last paragraph but she typed the answer to the last question anyway and watched the form disappear from her screen- how had it done that? She hadn't touched anything!

Jeanne shrugged and went to bed, soon forgetting about the weird message.

Miss Emrys strode through the halls away from her office. She had successfully finished her work for the day and all that was left was to process the student application forms. That was one of the worst parts of this job- trying to comprehend the misspelled, poorly written forms was truly depressing.

'Torchie, are you done?' Her co-head, Miss Maleficant, fell into step beside her with a questioning face.

'Nearly. Just the applications to process now, and you know what fun that is.'

'Absolutely. Have any of them tried to make themselves hybrids this time?'

'I saw a few. I think some of them are actually one and a half people. We'll have to add Basic Maths to the curriculum.'

'I'll add it onto the schedule- we can incorporate it with Technology And Science 101.'

'Thank you.'

The two Heads reached the door leading to the Staff Section. Miss Emrys leaned forwards and peered into a retina scanner, which analysed her eye and bleeped green. She carefully entered a sequence of numbers into a keypad, then spoke into a mike, 'Iniquity.' She made sure to enunciate all the syllables this time. The computer whirred a moment, then a larger light flashed red and the door swung open.

'The security here is certainly excellent,' Miss Maleficant commented.

'Yes, well, I felt that Foaly's paranoia might as well be put to good use,' Miss Emrys said with satisfaction. 'And we'll have the trollz on guard too, so they should find it awfully difficult to sneak in.'

'Just as well, really- not that it'll stop them.'

'Oh, it never does. That's why we have the medic warlocks on hand.' They savoured the thought of all those badfic writers finally receiving punishment for their crimes against the English language with glee.

'Okay, then. Student applications,' Miss Maleficant said with a sigh.

'Look on the bright side. We can creatively misinterpret the misspellings.'

'That's always fun,' Miss Maleficant agreed with an evil grin.

Jeanne snuggled deeper into her blankets as a shaft of light fell across her bed, attempting to awaken her. She frowned, opened her eyes and blinked. Her room didn't let light across her bed. Actually, this wasn't her room. Where was she?

The room she found herself in was rather small. It contained two sets of bunkbeds, one of which Jeanne was sprawled across, and four desks against the third wall. The door, set into the opposite wall, looked locked. It had bars across it. Jeanne groaned and sat up, whacking her head against the bottom of the bunk above.

The other set of bunkbeds was empty. Jeanne crawled out of bed and looked at the one above, which was also empty. Jeanne was the only person in the room.

'What the hell is going on?' Jeanne said slowly.

On the wall by the door, a square of white light flickered and appeared. Jeanne frowned at it. There didn't appear to be a projector on the ceiling.

Welcome to OFUAF, said the screen.

'Whaaaaa?' was Jeanne's response. She tried to think back to the night before. Hadn't there been something about a university? A form she'd filled in? But why was she here?

You're here because you signed that form, the screen said. The words were scrolling across it in plain black letters.

Jeanne backed away. 'Can you… hear me?'

Well of course I can hear you.

What? What? What? Jeanne's brain broke down as this new strain was placed on it. She stared gormlessly at the screen as it began to write a new sentence.

No, we can't hear you. We just know how your minds work, the screen read. It seemed to be somehow giving off an aura of smugness.

You are currently in your dorm with your new dormmates. If you're on your own, either the other students haven't arrived yet or you're really unpopular. I wouldn't try leaving if I were you; either you'll get lost or the trollz will get you.

'They can't leave, idiot, the door's locked,' Miss Emrys hissed at Miss Maleficant, who scowled and resumed typing.

You can't leave anyway; we've locked your doors. It's for your own safety.

The words hung menacingly on the screen. Jeanne sat down on her bunk, scared slightly. She still had no idea what was going on or where she was but she figured the whatever trollz were she didn't want to meet them.

AN: So, if you want to fill out that form there, your character will definitely appear in this story at some point. However, he or she will be made into a bad author- so don't think of it as in anyway a reflection of you.

Oh yes, and I own Miss Emrys- who, as you can tell, is at least based on me- and also Miss Maleficant, who I just made up.

And if you are a writer named Jeanne who wrote something called The Holly and the Ivy (with variable misspellings) I didn't know you existed and I'm sorry.