Title: The Root of Six Six Six
Author: Neko-chan
Fandoms: Artemis Fowl & Harry Potter
Pairing: Artemis/Harry
Rating: T, eventual M
Disclaimer: Not mine. ;_; Not Artemis nor Harry nor movie!Voldemort-in-a-suit nor poncy!Lucius nor ferret!Draco nor competent!Butler nor sassy!Holly. I just have to make due with borrowing… *sighs in a despondent manner*
Summary: The Lower Elements had forgotten, unfortunately, that Time Paradoxes always have some sort of backlash, even if it takes years in the making to come to fruition. Debts will be addressed and paid as the People and Artemis Fowl ready themselves for war against the Necromancers—and are joined by the most unlikeliest of allies: the wizarding world. And the Boy-Who-Lived.
Author's Note: Trying my own hand at an Artemis Fowl and Harry Potter crossover. *headdesks* All blame(?) goes to ExcentrykeMuse (Fairy Dust) and salty-sarah (Fair is Fowl, and Fowl is Fair) for their own crossovers that I read in one sitting and promptly fell in love with. And definite blame goes to Artemis Fowl for being that which I can never resist: the anti-hero. ;)
Only two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former.
- Albert Einstein
0.
Morality.
Artemis Fowl had decided long ago, at the tender age of ten, that "morality" was perhaps one of the most ambiguous of concepts that any one person might attempt to learn in the duration of his or her rather short lifetime. Treaties had been written on the idea of "morality," philosophical papers that debated the idea of pure "good" and "evil"—proposing thoughts in terms of absolutes and coloring the world in shades of black and white.
The child prodigy, however, had found out early on that he best enjoyed making his way through life in the subtle, twilight shade of the between reality: the hypothesis that purposed that there was something that was neither "here" nor "there" and instead resided along the razor's edge of middle-ground.
When one became an internationally renowned crime lord at the prepubescent age of twelve, the middle-ground, the twilight arena where Shadows stretched and lingered: this was the land where the morally vague resided and flourished.
Now, at the age of twenty-one, Artemis had resided so long in the landscape that was colored with crepuscular light that he could easily navigate his way through his now-natural environment, the home that called to his heart in a way that Fowl Manor never could.
That fact should be pitiable. But it was not.
Perhaps this was because, despite the solo pathways that Artemis usually traveled—dual-colored eyes dark with inner thoughts that never passed his pale lips—there were still presences within his life that usually managed to drag him away from ashen-toned notions and, at least temporarily, coax him instead towards a world that was bright and scintillant, luminous and refulgent and burnished, light and resplendent: the world that most others lived in. But that was not the world for him.
And yet…
Yet.
Now was such one of the times that his friends had coaxed him back to the light, interrupting Artemis' scheming in taking over a newly conglomerated oil company—intending to swoop in when the company was celebrating its triumph and instead buying out all of the stocks so that he was then the main shareholder. But that was then and this was…
Now, though—now: Artemis sat cross-legged in the chair that he had been gestured to by Holly, Butler at his shoulder as Minerva gracefully settled into the chair opposite the table from him. Having her here unsettled him, and Artemis carefully stifled the bubbling concern that made his shoulders tighten in reaction. As the Fowl heir glanced away from the young, beautiful girl, Foaly clip-clopped his way into the conference room, and the "Mud Boy" felt a distant sort of surprise at seeing the centaur, what with Foaly so rarely being willing to part from his work.
The young man quirked an elegant black brow, silently turning his head just enough to the side to give Holly an inquiring glance. She hadn't given him any details when she had whisked him, Minerva, and Butler away to Haven, but this truly must have been important.
The fairy fiddled with her fingers in a nervous gesture before wrapping them tight with one another, bringing her hands down to settle on her lap and out of sight. She had matured since Artemis had first seen her: skin darkening to a pretty mahogany, the delicate tips of her ears just barely peeking out from beneath the silken strands of her auburn hair—and her eyes, twinned to Artemis', met the Fowl's straight-on.
"Paradoxes are strange things," Holly began, moving to the heart of the matter as her gaze never left her human friend's. "When they come into being, unforeseen consequences always happen as another result."
Artemis fell silent at that, mulling over Holly's words, weighing them in the way that he tended to do after finally being rid of Orion's personality—the Atlantis Complex, if anything, had made Artemis that much more withdrawn and less inclined to share his thoughts.
Finally, however, the young man spoke. "And I take it that these unforeseen consequences have finally come to light?" he asked, Irish accent lilting through the words.
"They have," an unfamiliar voice said as the last and final participant in the meeting stepped through the door. A long, forest-green cloak swept across the floor, just barely brushing atop the toes of boots that looked to be made from some sort of lizard hide. Artemis glanced over to the newcomer, Butler tensing behind him, and frowned: an Englishman? Surprisingly, Holly winced and looked immediately guilty.
When the newcomer finally stopped at the head of the table, lightly tanned hands pushed the cloak's hood down in a familiar movement, one that was filled with absent annoyance—almost as if the person hated to hide but had learned that it was necessary; that alone piqued Artemis' interest for, if nothing else, he still loved deciphering interesting puzzles. Narrowed verdigris eyes met Artemis' gaze before switching over to Holly, giving both the Fowl heir and the elf a venom-filled look. "You and the People fucked up, and we're the ones reaping what you sowed."
Even more intrigued by the choleric teen, Artemis asked, "Who are you?"
Bright green eyes glanced over at the billionaire once more, and—for the first time—Artemis was able to catch sight of an unusual scar in the shape of a lightning bolt upon the teen's forehead. "My name is Harry Potter. I'm a wizard."
Though his lips never curved upwards, Artemis' eyes shone with his characteristic vampiric smile—thin-lipped and mean, and the Irishman felt a surge of appreciation for an adventure that would once more engage him and his attention in a way that hadn't been accomplished in years. Oh, he could hardly wait.
"Hello, Harry Potter. I'm Artemis Fowl."