Origin of Magic

Chapter 2

By: Winters of Despair

Fowl Manor was like a modern-day castle. It had all the security, all the technology and all the beauty and refinement a castle needed to be a castle.

What it also had, Artemis Sr. mourned slightly as he tried to follow his son, was a lot of room to get lost in. He had lost Arty after he saw him turn the first corner. Though he was used to his prosthetic limb, he still couldn't move as fast as he used to be able to. And there were just so many different corridors to go down and empty rooms that could be used he had no idea where his son had disappeared to.

Then there were the two hidden passageways as well, and he wouldn't put it past Artemis to know where those were located.

Instead of turning toward Artemis' room, like a normal father would have done perhaps, he sought out the office Artemis had claimed for his own uses. He was much more likely to find his son there than anywhere else, especially when he got into one of his moods.

They had been getting better as a family, Artemis Sr. thought. He and his wife worked on their relationship every day, and they cared for the twins with a healthy enthusiasm. Their firstborn was never around as much as they would have liked, but Artemis seemed to enjoy the time he spent with his family as well.

It was at times like today however, that Artemis Sr. wondered about his progress with his son. Sometimes Artemis would just shut them out for a period of time, finding excuses to be alone. And though Artemis Sr. would love to be able to know that Artemis did have some form of a recreational relationship with a person (or several), the fact of the matter was his son had never mentioned any of his friends before.

He didn't think the one time he had caught Artemis blushing slightly over something Butler told him a Minerva had said quite counted.

The door to Artemis' study had been left slightly open, and Artemis Sr. was going to push it open the rest of the way when he registered the sound of voices.

The head of the Fowl household had never been one to eavesdrop on his family, but he would later confess to Angeline that he couldn't help himself, not when he caught the words Artemis was speaking.

"Are details becoming too expensive to share over illegal internet connections?"

Artemis Sr. froze at the door, and listened.

Artemis reached his study just in time to see his laptop flash a message on its screen.

Call Pending

Caller: Foaly

Accept – Decline

He seated himself in the comfortable office chair and pressed the Accept button with no small amount of anticipation. Foaly's face appeared on the screen moments after. Some of the technology the centaur created for Section Eight filled the background.

"Foaly," he greeted, "perfect timing."

"For you maybe," the centaur sulked, "this is the third time I've called today. I was ready to give up and just leave a message."

"Surely you know I've only been home for an hour and a half."

"What were you doing for that hour and a half?"

"I was downstairs, with my family. It is afternoon, we were having lunch."

"For an hour and a half? And it's three-thirty where you're at now."

"Beckett ran into some trouble beforehand that needed to be taken care of. It's twelve-thirty where you're at, you're point is?"

"It's proper lunchtime here," Foaly said, emphasizing his point by waving a carrot stick in the screen. "I would have thought you had eaten on the plane trip back."

"Eating on planes never agreed with Mother," Artemis replied. "How is this relevant to your call?"

"Can't a centaur ask a friend a few questions?" Foaly said, looking hurt.

"Foaly," Artemis sighed.

"Alright, alright, jeeze. I am so unappreciated. Anyway, I finally got that meeting together a few days ago, and long story short, you're in."

"Long story short? Are details becoming too expensive to share over illegal internet connections?"

Foaly took a bite out of his carrot before inhaling the rest of it. "Are you kidding? With the amount of money I'm getting paid now? I could keep this link going for the next thirty years, if not longer. Hey, did you know I'm getting a pay raise next Friday?"

"Yes, actually."

"Spoilsport. Holly's on her way to fill you in about the details, and probably give you a good verbal thrashing as well. She's a little upset that you never told her about your magic."

Artemis felt like wincing, but refrained from doing so. He couldn't say for sure that the trashing would be confined to mere words.

"I can talk to you via her helmet, which is cheaper by the way, so in a way you're right. It is somewhat about the money. Section Eight may have the best of everything, but we don't like to spend needlessly. This call is coming out of my own pocket."

Artemis sat up a little straighter, sensing the beginnings of a stimulating challenge. "What did you want to discuss?"

Foaly inhaled another carrot. "How would you like to put that brain of yours to work and help me develop new technology?"

"That depends," Artemis said, pretending disinterest. "I don't work well without the proper motivation."

Foaly reached for his keyboard and tapped a few buttons. A box popped up on Artemis' computer screen. "I can pay you this much," Foaly offered. He felt a sense of accomplishment as he watched a slow grin spread across Artemis' face.

"What kind of technology?" the teenager wanted to know.

Artemis Sr. stepped away from his son's door. He wasn't certain, but it sounded like Artemis was involved with the government. He had never heard of Section Eight before; but from the looks of things it was top secret.

Somehow he wasn't surprised.

He decided he would leave his son alone for now, because whatever he was discussing, Artemis Sr. probably shouldn't know about it. And if Holly came over— whoever she was— maybe Artemis would tell him what was going on.

He again thought about Artemis' glowing hand and the conversation he had just overheard. One of the first things he would ask about was this magic business.

He wanted Artemis to stop hiding things from him; but he wouldn't get any information if he tried to force the matter. Artemis Sr. would be patient.

But he wouldn't wait too long. He would never make that mistake again.

Holly shielded as her Dragonfly wings lifted her from the surface of the earth. She shot up into the sky, not as fast as a proverbial rocket, but fast enough to set off warning sensors in her helmet. The sensors told her that procedure dictated takeoffs were supposed to be gradual and controlled.

Naturally, she ignored them.

Holly was an incredibly miffed fairy. When Foaly shared with her that Artemis still had the magic he stole, the magic he had supposedly 'lost' after their journey to Hybras, she had stared at him a while before turning around and walking straight out of the room.

It hadn't been fair to her centaur friend. She had left him fretting about what kind of crazy thing she was going out to do. Fortunately she had enough sense to find a quiet room and calm down some before she rushed to the surface to knock some sense into Artemis' head.

Okay, so the Mud Boy had lied again. That was nothing new, so why was she so upset?

But, Holly reflected, weren't they supposed to be friends? Didn't friends trust each other with secrets, no matter how crazy and outlandish they were? It wasn't as though she didn't already know he had magic. Heck, if he hadn't stolen some to begin with then they might not even be here to argue about it now.

How was it, she wondered, that it was getting harder and harder for her to stay truly mad at him?

Yet she needed to know. So she returned to Foaly and demanded to get proper clearance for an above-ground operation. Foaly had seemed extremely relieved and proceeded to fill her in on the rest of the details.

She lazily looped a few times through the air. It was a fun, but tricky maneuver that set her sensors off again. Foaly's agitated face appeared in her vision.

"Holly," he said in a pained voice, "do you mind stopping whatever it is you're doing? Every time your sensors go off, mine are alerted too; and I'm trying to concentrate at the moment."

"It's not my fault we didn't have time to calibrate these wings to understand my flight patterns," she said unsympathetically. "What are you concentrating on?"

"You know how I mentioned everyone at the meeting didn't seem averse to hiring Artemis?"

"Yeah?"

"Well some members of Belle's division aren't exactly thrilled about it."

"Huh, now why am I not surprised?"

"Maybe because they still view Artemis as an amoral, fairy-kidnapping, gold-stealing, trouble-making Mud Boy? Either way," he sighed in an attempt to release some of his tension, "I've got people popping in my office every five minutes. Most of them seem to think I'm deaf or something, because they keep shouting their complaints in my ear." He rubbed said appendage. "Now I'm a fairly tolerant centaur, but it's really starting to wear on my humor."

"Shouldn't they be complaining to Belle?"

Foaly grinned wryly. "If Belle decides she doesn't want to hear something, she doesn't hear it. That sprite has astounding selective hearing; and she's quite taken with the idea of having Artemis work for her."

She contemplated that thought for a moment. "What about Moss?"

"What about him?" Foaly shrugged. "He'll follow Belle wherever she goes. It's quite obvious he's fond of her, even if Belle's the only one who hasn't noticed yet."

"He hasn't exactly done anything about it," she pointed out.

"True, but Belle is just about as oblivious to love as a troll."

"Huh," Holly commented. At least Artemis would have a few friendly faces in his division. She never once doubted that he would want to take them up on their offer.

When another fairy stormed into Foaly's office she cut their connection, wincing at how loud the pixie's voice was.

When Holly arrived, Artemis was carefully sketching something out on a planning desk. If she had cared to look, she might have noticed that it was the beginnings of a technological design. Instead she used her open invitation to deftly maneuver through the open window and smack Artemis over the head.

His hand jerked and he scowled at the out of place line on his paper before turning to the haze that was Holly. "Hello to you too."

Holly switched her shield off and opened her visor so they could properly see each other. She crossed her arms. "Artemis I can't believe you. You kept your magic all this time and you never bothered to tell me?"

"It was necessary," Artemis responded. "I highly doubt Commander Sool would have allowed me to walk around as freely as I do now without trying to remove it somehow."

"I can keep secrets you know," her tone was offended. "Following orders of authority figures has never exactly been my top priority. Did you really think I would turn you over to Sool?"

"Of course not, but it's easier to keep secrets when you don't know about them," he said in a very matter-of-fact way.

"What about now, then?" she demanded. "You know I work for Section Eight now. Or even before, after I quit the LEP? What kept you from telling me then?"

Artemis was silent.

"Aren't we friends?" Holly's eyes glimmered with hurt. "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course," he said quickly. "I just…" he trailed off, feeling thrown off balance by her sudden display of emotion.

"Just what?"

"I – I'm sorry, okay?" Frond, was he stuttering? "I didn't know it would make you so upset."

Holly visibly calmed down, knowing how difficult apologies were for Artemis. "Magic is a precious gift," she informed him, "and an incredibly volatile one. It's dangerous to learn by yourself. I was worried," she admitted, ignoring the slight blush that crept up on her cheeks at her statement. Heaven forbid Artemis' ego should grow any more because of her.

Artemis floundered a little. "Oh, um, thank you." Um? Now his grammar had thrown itself out the window. Great.

They both refused to meet each other's eyes, preferring to stare at opposite walls while the tension grew between them.

Foaly punctured it by reestablishing a connection to Holly's helmet. "Well, now that that's out of the way," he said cheerfully.

"Right," Holly said as both she and Artemis relaxed.

"A rather unique situation has come up because of your request," Foaly continued. "As you probably already know," he playfully glared at Artemis even though he knew he couldn't see him, "Section Eight does more than specialize in demonology. We have a special division for magical humans as well." He paused for dramatic effect. "Artemis, what would you say to becoming an official employee of Section Eight?"

Artemis pretended to think. "And actually get paid for saving the world every once-in-a-while? Not a bad idea, but I can't spend all my time underground Foaly. My parents would get suspicious. It's already difficult enough convincing them to forget about those years I went missing." He abruptly stopped talking, but Holly had already caught on.

"You mesmerized your own parents?" she asked in a scandalized tone.

"What else was I supposed to do? I can't tell them about you."

She looked torn: indignant on behalf of Artemis' actions, but understanding on behalf of the People. "But, they're your parents…"

"I'm afraid Artemis is right Holly," Foaly said sensibly. "No one can know about us if we can help it."

Still conflicted, she decided to say nothing.

"That shouldn't be too much of a problem," Foaly said to Artemis. "You'll be the official liaison to the human's magical society – if we ever decide to make contact with them of course – so you'll still spend most of your time above-ground. Of course you'll have to meet your supervisor, Belle, and the people you'll work with, even if some of them hate you."

"There's no such thing as a perfect job," Artemis muttered under his breath.

"Indeed not," said Foaly, delightfully lording over the fact that his microphones were good enough to pick up Artemis' quiet words, "But if that ain't life for you, I couldn't tell you what to expect."

"Very well, I shall think of something to tell my parents. I'll need to if I plan on going away to a magical boarding school for most of the year."

"Artemis doesn't have to hide the fact that he's going to a human magic school, does he?" Holly asked Foaly. "I'm sure he can think up some excuse for why he wasn't enrolled in the usual fashion, but maybe he doesn't have to keep his parents entirely out of the loop."

Foaly looked thoughtful. "That's a good point. Artemis shouldn't have to keep his human magic business from his family."

"I'll think about it," Artemis said.

"You shouldn't lie to them," Holly pointed out.

Artemis remembered the conversation they had just had a few minutes ago. Maybe Holly was right. He couldn't just disappear again without an explanation. It would cause his parents more heartache than they deserved. "I'll think about it," he repeated, really meaning it this time.

Dumbledore frowned at the pile of paperwork stacked on his desk. He had just come back from a meeting with the minister. Cornelius Fudge was rather cowardly and incompetent, but he did do parts of his job well.

They had their usual start of summer discussion; and (as usual) they talked about next years' defense professor.

Fudge had been enraged about the fake Professor Moody, going so far as to blame Dumbledore for the whole thing. Shouldn't the headmaster keep a better eye on who he hired? He was Albus Dumbledore for Merlin's sake. No low-life Death Eater should even be able to contemplate breaking into Hogwarts.

Dumbledore got the funny feeling that wouldn't be the only thing he got blamed for this summer.

He was having more trouble than usual filling the seat of defense professor. He would have approached Remus again, but he knew the man would refuse. He was needed in the Order to rally the werewolves anyway.

Not for the first time he wondered if he shouldn't look into the curse that had plagued the position for years. Originally he had let it lie, knowing that it added to the mystique of the school. Some wizards responded better to a challenge, and he had always managed to rope in a curious soul to teach every year. It had certainly been an adventure at least.

This year Fudge had threatened ministry action. Since Dumbledore seemed incompetent at choosing his own staff, he would appoint a ministry-approved official to teach the class. Dumbledore shuddered to think how 'ministry-approved' curriculum would hamper his students' educational development. Fudge had become suspicious of him as late, getting ideas from the Daily Prophet that Albus wanted his seat as minister.

Preposterous. Why would he want all of that responsibility?

Dumbledore hoped for a quiet year. He hoped for a good defense teacher and well-behaved students. Of course, he knew the latter was difficult to come by, but had he known what kind of trouble one new student would bring to his school the following year, he might have been sitting at his desk, contemplating retirement.