King of Serpents: Game of Shadows Chapter 10: Back to School Night, a Harry Potter + Artemis Fowl Crossover fanfic

As brought to my attention by a reviewer last chapter about Petunia:

In case it wasn't clear, she doesn't actually think that way about her family. She's not that stupid. She does, however, feel trapped, and responds to that by tricking herself into thinking her life is perfect, because giving in to her husband's and son's whims was easier than doing the right thing - teaching them responsibility.

Seeing as she got married and had a child right after Lily did (to "prove" that she was pretty enough to get a husband right out of school, too), she should have only been in her early twenties at the latest - which is still very young. This might work out for many people, but given Petunia's forceful personality she's probably regretting not doing something with her college education, or at least waiting to find a more liberal-minded man. Because, really, even the most loving and nurturing of people would have a hard time dealing with a close-minded spouse like Vernon Dursley.

September 1st

"The Quidditch World Cup Final sure went off with a bang, didn't it?" Blaise commented lightly.

"I suppose, if you stayed for the party afterwards," Artemis said quietly.

"Good job Ireland," Blaise shrugged. "On another note, Artemis, you look abnormally sober. I could have sworn I saw you tap-dancing with Finnegan."

Artemis rolled his eyes. "Please don't confuse me with one of those peasants."

Theodore was shifting uncomfortably. He looked ready to cry.

"All right, spill it, Theo," Blaise snapped. "You've been like that this entire train ride."

Theodore looked around nervously. "I know who it was…" he whispered.

"Everyone does," Artemis snorted derisively. "But obviously, Fudge doesn't want to believe it."

Both Draco and Theodore seemed slightly sick, but said nothing. "I hate it when you're always right," Blaise grumbled.

"At least we have something to look forward to this year," Draco said, falsely cheerful.

"What?"

"Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year!" Draco and Theodore announced at the same time.

"Really? No way!" Blaise said, jumping up and down in his seat.

"1,000 Galleons to the winner. It's a deadly game, though. This is the first time they've restarted it in hundreds of years – there was one where all of the champions died," Draco said.

"Who's competing?" Artemis asked.

"One from Beauxbatons, one from Durmstrang, and one from Hogwarts," Draco said. "I'm not sure of all the details, though."

"You're right, Draco," Theodore said. "The headmasters of the other two schools will be coming, too."

"While winning sounds quite glorious, I am not sure if entering is worth it," Artemis pointed out. "Risking your life for 1,000 Galleons – we all have much more than that."

"They've taken extra precautions this year, though. Everything's much easier and the security's been ramped up," Theodore added.

"Wait…how do you know so much about this?" Draco asked Theodore. "My father's in the Ministry and even he's keeping his mouth shut!"

Theodore shrugged, as he tossed his medallion from hand to hand. "I guess…I just know. I don't know! I've just been getting really good at predicting things lately. Not like Artemis, he uses facts and stuff to predict things... Something just tells me…like instinct. I know it's right, but I can't really explain it…you know how sometimes, you just have to know stuff?...well, that's how I feel."

The other three boys looked at each other and shrugged, passing it off as another incident like those of the previous years. Artemis was curious, but had more important things at hand – like his clone, which was currently sleeping soundly inside the fifth layer of his laboratory. "Fair enough," said Blaise.

Draco perked up. "Hey, do you know who the competitors for the three schools are going to be, then?"

Theodore shook his head. "It's still not really clear to me. This kind of information just comes to me when it comes to me. I can't really consciously predict stuff yet…not like Artemis."

"The entire thing about Voldemort still has me worried, though," Artemis muttered. "What concerns me is that nothing we can do will stop the course of action already set into place. We definitely need to continue the extra classes with Professor Snape at all costs, even if our new Defense teacher knows what he is doing."

"Hey, look on the bright side – everyone will be so distracted with the Tournament that they won't notice our little project," Blaise said, winking at the three of them. As Artemis pondered this, he realized that it was true. Being an unregistered Animagus would be quite helpful to them now – before, it was just for a bit of entertainment…but doing so had helped Sirius Black escape from Azkaban and kept Peter Pettigrew hidden for twelve years, hadn't it?

"Do you guys want to continue the defense club, too? I mean, last year it didn't work out very much because Lupin was a decent teacher, but well, I just think it would be better to ramp up security, since…you know…"

"If that's the case, then we should extend this club to the rest of the Slytherins," said Draco. "Not the Animagus stuff, but the defense and everything. I know that the Slytherins probably won't get attacked by the Death Eaters, but it might be a good way to keep them from joining later on."

"A secret club. That sounds so cool! We can meet in the Room of Awesome, too, except we'll change it to look like a dueling chamber or something instead of the Animagus stuff. And we should call it the S.H.M. – Society of Handsome Men," Blaise said, preening. His rather flirtatious, arrogant attitude had not changed one bit – in fact, age seemed to have intensified it. At least they all knew that he was joking…Artemis hoped.

"Blaise, if we do that, none of the girls will join," Theodore pointed out. The boy had suddenly become more serious and focused on the idea of their training club – obviously, he had not taken the fact that Voldemort had returned, and that his father had joined up with the Death Eaters again, very well. "I think that Defense Association – D.A. – would be good."

"If anyone gets suspicious, tell them that it stands for Don't Ask," Blaise joked.

"Or Dark Arts," Artemis muttered.

"Well, if it were Dark Arts, my father definitely wouldn't disapprove," Draco muttered.

"What about S.R.?" Theodore suggested, writing everything down in his notebook. "Slytherin Resistance."

None of them had any objection to that. "Sounds good," said Blaise.

"Fine, then. S.R. for the Slytherin Resistance. And if anyone asks, we can say that it stands for Slytherins Rule. We can pass it off as an expanded social club in front of the teachers, and a different sort of club in front of…"

"Oh, yeah, my mum would TOTALLY be supportive of a MANNERS club!" Blaise said loudly.

Artemis stared at him. "Was that really necessary? You already know I've spelled this compartment."

Blaise laughed. "Killjoy."

Artemis rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Imbecile."

"We can't let just anybody in, though. They might rat us out. It should be a closed group, on an invitation basis only. Who do you think is trustworthy enough that we can ask?" Theodore asked, moving them along. "I have Tracey Davis and Eva Bole on my list. Pansy Parkinson I'm not too sure of."

"We should put her in," said Blaise. "She's not the nicest girl, but hopefully we can keep her from joining up with the Dark Lord, or at least telling on the rest of us if she ever catches on and feels left out. Besides, I wouldn't want to subject anybody to a fate like having a permanent snake and skull tattoo on your wrist. I mean, yuck. They should have gone with something nicer, at least. Like a flame pattern."

"Only you would worry about what the tattoo looks like, Blaise," Draco sneered.

"Well, I'm not too keen about having to Apparate to the Dark Lord every time my arm burns, too, but yeah, it's not the classiest way to go, is it?" Blaise defended himself. "Skeletons and dementor costumes were so twenty years ago."

They all snorted.

"What?" Blaise asked.

"Nothing," Draco smirked.

Theodore sighed. "Guysss..."

"Daphne Greengrass and her sister Astoria," Draco answered him. "Malcolm Baddock, Graham Pritchard and a few of the younger kids. Terrence Higgs, who was actually a decent Quidditch player who went by the rules before I replaced him. Adrian Pucey isn't that bad, either. There's probably tons of good people that we don't know, but stay out of the limelight because of the more negative 'evil Slytherins' stereotype."

"Merlin was a Slytherin, so we can't be that bad," Blaise countered. "How about Amy Wilkes? Her father was a Death Eater from the first war, but he got killed, so her family's been on the straight and narrow, living with her mother and grandparents ever since."

"Bridget, Peter, Rachel, Roy, Harper…" Draco added, ticking off his fingers. Theodore dutifully wrote all of their names down in the communication notebook.

Blaise scratched his head as he considered the next group of students. "There's Montague, Derrick, Bole, Urquhart, Vaisey, Warrington…They're a bit pureblood supremacist, but they're pretty moderate when it comes to the Dark Arts. I think that all they need is a nudge in the right direction. I think that, even if we can't make them let go of their beliefs, we can at least convince them that Voldemort isn't a guy they want to spend the rest of their lives following."

"But those last few are kind of old," Draco said. "You think a year will be enough to change them? Or will they betray us and say that we're working against him? If we're the leaders of this group, you can be sure that our parents will suffer, Theodore."

"We may have to question all of them first about their intentions," Artemis pointed out. "I refuse to let anyone into our secrets and learn our skills who are not completely trustworthy."

"We should have a sign-up sheet," Theodore said, "and hex it. That way, even if they did try to tattle, they couldn't. A heavy Compulsion Charm and a Tongue-Tying Curse and an Oath of Silence should do it."

They stared at him, surprised. "I can't believe you're the one telling us about hexing a sign-up sheet," Blaise said. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Absolutely. If there's one way to hurt Voldemort it's to stop his potential servants," Theodore said vehemently. "I keep thinking…if my father hadn't…"

"It's okay, Theodore," Blaise interrupted, patting him on the shoulder. "We know."

Theodore stiffened at the contact and proudly sat up straight, brushing off the other boy's gesture of comfort (much to everyone's surprise). "Do you think we should make more of the books for members, so we can keep in contact? And Professor Snape should know, too. I heard that he's on Dumbledore's side in this war; he should be perfectly glad to teach us a thing or two against Voldemort."

"He is on our side, so to speak," Artemis said, "but we should not push him too hard, since he will be extremely busy this year. I suppose we will have to find a secret meeting place, and plan the lessons ourselves. As for the books, I suppose they shall be a great help."

"All right," Theodore said, making notes to himself in the private section of the magical notebook. "This year, we should cover Patronuses, basic defense, dueling, and healing…"

"Wandless and nonverbal magic, too," Draco said. "If they get good enough, that is. It's an important skill, in case some Death Eater Disarms you – then you could still have a way to defend yourself." He stared straight at Artemis, in the eyes. That was deliberate – Artemis went through his mind, and found that Draco had been thinking, Should we teach them Legilimency and Occlumency, too?

Artemis responded, I doubt that many are advanced enough yet to master the art. But we shall see. At any rate, we should teach them all to clear their minds and avoid direct eye contact. Draco nodded and winked.

"All right. I'll put a star next to wandless and nonverbal magic," Theodore said. Whistling softly, he began composing an outline for the year. The other three stared at him in bemused surprise; his seriousness about the subject had all taken them off guard, even Artemis. Perhaps Theodore really belonged in Slytherin, after all.

This put them all in a better mood for the rest of the train ride as they heatedly discussed their plans for the year.

An Undisclosed Location

"You know what to do, don't you, Bartemius?" Voldemort whispered.

The man before his feet nodded vigorously. "Yes, my Lord! I understand fully."

"Good. Then take the potion. It should last an entire year, and no magical enchantments – not even that blasted eye – should be able to see through it."

"You are sure, my Lord?"

"Do you doubt me?"

"No, of course not! I – I was just wondering what it was, since it isn't Polyjuice – "

"That is for me to know and you to find out."

Bowing low, Barty Crouch quickly exited the room.

The pixie materialized into vision. "You know, if you didn't know the answer, you should have just said so."

He hexed her.

Hogwarts

The ride was soon over, and they boarded the carriages for yet another ride up to the castle, to begin another year, of Sortings, of rivalries, and this time, Voldemort.

…And we must unite inside her or

We'll crumble from within

I have told you, I have warned you...

Let the Sorting now begin.

As usual, applause broke out, though this time it was more muted and dull. Quite obviously, everyone had heard the grave tone of the Sorting Hat's warning. Artemis knew that they were all casting surreptitious glances at the Slytherin table – after all, their House had the worst reputation, and Slytherin himself was the one who had caused the split in the first place. It would be up to him and his friends this year to bridge the gap and reunite the Houses once more. Just because Slytherin was a paranoid fool who made a mistake in extending his prejudice over to the education of children did not mean that they had to carry on the tradition for centuries afterward.

Nonetheless, if any of the teachers had any idea, none of them showed it. Dumbledore remained silent and allowed Professor McGonagall to proceed as always. At the end of the Sorting, "Baddock, Malcolm" , "Pritchard, Graham" , and several other younger brothers and sisters of the Slytherin brood had been sorted into their House. Professor McGonagall closed her scroll, and handed the floor over to the Headmaster.

"I have only two words to say to you: Tuck in."

After they had finished their meal, Professor Dumbledore stood and made a few of the usual announcements. "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not be taking place this year."

Since Draco and Theodore had informed them of the proceedings, all four of them already knew why, but as for the rest of the students, there were large murmurs of protest.

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

Before Professor Dumbledore could finish, however, the doors to the Great Hall banged open, and there stood a rather wizened old man hobbling along on a staff – he was missing a leg and in its place was a peg, like the stereotypical pirate. He had a disheveled appearance to him and looked around suspiciously, as though he was a war veteran who had been hit in the head one too many times. Every inch of skin on his face was heavily scarred.

"I don't believe it – it's Mad-Eye Moody!" Blaise hissed.

"Mad-Eye Moody" looked mad and moody, indeed. One of his eyes was as large and round as a vulture's eye. Artemis was distinctly reminded of the old man from Edgar Allen Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart" (he was only four when he first read it, and it had been a dark and stormy night so he had never truly gotten over it). His normal eye stared ahead of him gloomily, but the vulture eye was swiveling around in its socket, taking in the entire Great Hall.

"May I introduce you to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody?"

There was a deafening silence. Only Hagrid and Dumbledore actually put their hands together – everyone else was too stunned by his unusual appearance. Professor Snape was regarding him warily, like he might bite at any moment. Moody ignored the cold reception, however, and simply sat down like nothing was wrong and took a swig from his hip flask.

"You're kidding me," Draco breathed. "That man is crazy! Why – "

But Professor Dumbledore interrupted him. "As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" Fred Weasley yelled loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. After a little side conversation, he began describing the Tournament. The rest of the Great Hall seemed to be extremely excited over the prospect of prize money and eternal glory (which was a total lie, because even Artemis didn't know the names of any past Triwizard Tournament winners). What was more concerning was the fact that this was yet another international event that Voldemort – and Opal – could potentially use to their advantage.

Dumbledore finally concluded the announcement with, "The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Unlike the other Houses, all of which were surely blabbering excitedly about the event, Slytherin was mostly quiet. Except for a few discussions among the older years in which they questioned if it would be worth it to enter at least one name (for the sake of keeping their House's reputation as the talented and cunning), most of them were more concerned about who was dumb or desperate enough to go for it. The Weasley Twins, for one.

"I don't think that many Slytherins will try to enter," Artemis mused.

"Yeah, what's the point? We've already got money. It seems rather stupid to risk this beautiful face," Blaise joked merrily. "I bet a lot of Gryffindors will try out, though. Fame and eternal glory and all that."

"What do you think of Moody?" Draco asked, changing the subject. "He gives me the creeps…there's something wrong with him. I can just feel it."

"Well, you're not the only one. He seems pretty mad to me," Blaise agreed.

Draco was looking a bit pale. "I have a nagging feeling that he won't like me much," he whispered. "Or any of the Slytherins, for that matter."

They stared at the ground. Theodore was the first to move from that position. Conjuring a set of invitations, he spelled each of them to display a name, cast a Compulsion Charm and an invisible security spell over the stack, and sent them all out to be hidden in various trunks around the Slytherin dormitories.

Artemis, meanwhile, prepared for another round with the diary. At least, because sleep was associated with the physical body and not the consciousness, he would never be tired, not when one part of him was getting eight hours and the other sixteen. It was a nice implementation of a multiple-body system – he could literally work twenty-four hours a day while still getting enough rest, and without the double-aging brought on by time-turners.

With one atomically identical Sim-Body at home, and his real body at Hogwarts, he could instantaneously travel between school and home, all by just going to sleep. Better yet, since his wand was tied to his magic and his consciousness thanks to the Trace-purging ritual he (and the other bodies) had undergone, his wand somehow managed to travel with him each time his mind woke up in a new Sim-Body.

He was not a workaholic, thank you very much.

All right...maybe just a little.

"Good night," said Theodore.

"And joy be to you all," Blaise snickered.

"Oh, pick on the Irish kid, why don't you," Artemis groaned, and pulled the covers over his head.

From the notebooks of I. Emmawor Locke

7. Sim-Bodies™

I will now give you, my dear reader, a little break from natural, classified phenomena, and instead draw your attention to a more interesting and completely artificial invention of mine – the Simulated Body™, or Sim-Body™ for short.

It is impossible to artificially create life – if one uses "life" in the sense of a working and complex consciousness – from scratch. A fully realized mental complex can only be properly developed over generations of natural reproduction, with each parent contributing a little bit of their own mental energy towards their offspring. (Please note that this mental energy is not the same as intelligence; it only describes the ability to think in complex terms.) Too much at once can overload the neural circuits and result in brain damage, which basically undermines the purpose of gathering mental energy in the first place.

However, I have found through trial and error that it is possible to create a "living" – if one uses "life" in the sense of a beating heart and other basic physical functions, in the same way that hospitals consider someone in a vegetative coma "alive" – body. As the body is simply made up of matter, it should, theoretically, be as easy as conjuring or transfiguring any other object. Naturally, reality is a bit more complex, but surprisingly, not that much more. As long as one has a sufficient knowledge of anatomy (basic science textbooks available on request for a mere additional fee) creating a Sim-Body™ is quite simple. Tedious, but simple.

Now, to create a consciousness for this body is much different. While the body cannot possess a consciousness of its own – not without deteriorating rapidly (most of them tend to age and die within weeks; the more intelligent capability, the shorter the life span) – it is possible to make it emulate a consciousness by externally applying thought, much like a puppeteer can control a marionette.

Alternatively, one can also transfer consciousnesses between bodies, if they are linked properly. For the best results, one should use a true clone, which shares the same DNA as the user. However, bodies linked only by magic also provide satisfactory results. In this manner, one can be in multiple places at once, though not all bodies shall be functional at the same time. That is, when one body is functional, all other bodies linked to it must be asleep, because the human consciousness naturally remains unique and whole at all times.

At this point I am unsure how the link might react in the case of death. The first option is for the consciousness to automatically transfer from one dead body to one still functional one. The second option is that the consciousness departs immediately, and all links between the bodies and consciousness are broken. The bodies may remain alive, but unknowing, similar to Inferi or dementor victims, until another person can come along and resume their consciousness, or otherwise destroy them. These are only theories; I cannot say for sure because I have never died and do not plan to do so anytime soon.

As for the unnatural case in which a consciousness is split…