I'm BACK!
Happy Zombie Jesus Day!
(Courtesy of Cyanide and Happiness)
January had passed without much incident.
February was quiet as well.
Professor Sprout had informed the masses that her mandrakes were maturing, and pretty soon they would be ready for the potion to relieve the victims.
Artemis expected the news, or rather, the lack of it. After all, he and his...assistant investigators? Cohorts? Comrades?
Fine, they were his friends...for the sake of this ridiculous fanfiction.
"You know, I'll stop cooperating if you break the fourth wall one time too many."
But back to the point. Artemis expected the news, or rather, the lack of it. After all, he and his...friends...knew now who was supposed to be behind the attacks. And now that those in possession of the diary knew exactly what they were dealing with, they wouldn't carelessly stray into its realm of control, like the youngest Weasley child had.
Until they had more information, however, they could not report the diary just yet. It would lead to too much red tape. Dumbledore, as the headmaster, would be forced to report it to the Ministry, and Artemis wasn't sure that such a dangerous artifact should be turned over to the government to be poked and prodded by a bunch of incompetent morons.
In a bad case, the researchers in the Magical Artifacts department would damage it because they didn't know how to handle it, leaving the next few people in its chain of custody without anything to work with, whatsoever. Even worse, someone too naive could easily be possessed by the diary and end up exactly like the Weasley girl. Or the worst case - which could easily happen, given the level of corruption in the Ministry that Artemis was aware of - the diary could mysteriously "disappear" (into the hands of the powerful old families, again, such as a certain *cough* Lucius Malfoy *cough*) and labeled as a "closed case" to cover up the "accidental carelessness".
So, in this case, the wisest decision would be to allow only their small circle to be privy to the knowledge of the diary's existence until they had extracted all possible proof and information from it. Only after the evidence was great enough to be indisputable, would they turn it over to greater powers. That way, no one could turn a blind eye to the dangerous artifact or cover up its grave importance.
The general population, however, were still completely clueless. Most took the break from the attacks as a point of relief and returned to their daily routines, foolishly deciding that the trouble was over. Some wiser people were still keeping guard (mostly Slytherins), believing that the reprieve was only a calming point before an even bigger, more dangerous wave of attacks. Some people still suspected Artemis, although their numbers were less. Potter and Company had done their best to dispel the nasty rumors, and to their credit, they were quite effective in doing so. The masses seemed more keen on listening to Potter than a bunch of Slytherins.
Unfortunately, the fact that he was somewhat off the hook meant that Hagrid had, once again, become the scapegoat.
It didn't help matters that there had been no more attacks since Hagrid was arrested. Actually, Hagrid had been arrested around the same time as the diary had been found, but Artemis certainly was not such an imbecile that he would broadcast to the world about "baby Voldie's diary," (Blaise had adopted that as the code name for the object, and had taken to calling it as such in public and private).
Lockhart, the conceited peacock, as usual, had begun boasting that it was really his work that had scared the monster of Slytherin off.
Artemis wanted to march up to him and hit him. Several times. On top of his well-conditioned, combed, and curled head. With Riddle's diary. Or, even better, with his thickest textbook (Hogwarts, a History). Or with every single, paper-wasting, four hundred page lie that Lockhart had penned himself.
It would certainly knock the man off his pedestal, and provide some great ironic entertainment as a result. Artemis was sure that at least Professor Snape would appreciate it, if no one else did.
But he didn't, because Artemis Fowl the Second was a perfectly well-mannered and composed individual.
"And, today, my dear children…"
Usually.
"What in the name of Merlin, is that?" Draco choked.
The entire Great Hall had been messily decorated with splashes and paper cutouts in various shades of pink. None of them were a good type of pink.
Artemis hated the color pink. It made him sick to his stomach. He brushed several lacy, Pepto-Bismol (more like Pepto-Dismal) colored hearts off the bench in front of him. They fluttered to the ground in a glittering rain. Over to the side, Blaise was "accidentally" grinding several of the fallen décor into the ground with the heel of his boot, and Draco was absent-mindedly shredding a cupid into confetti.
Many fellow members of Slytherin House were also doing the same thing. Many of the older girls, who were already in a committed relationship and had no interest in Lockhart's antics, as well as several more who had lost their faith in him after realizing his inability to teach properly, were helping "redecorate" their table. Slytherins and pink did not go well together.
"I don't know about you, but I think, just maybe, I know who's behind this," Blaise whispered. "Just maybe."
At that moment in time, the object of their disdain flounced to the front of the hall.
"Good morning, my dear students! Today is a very special day, as you can see – Valentine's Day!" he announced, to the dismay of the majority.
"Can you imagine anything more disgusting?" Blaise asked.
"Yes, actually. What if our wardrobes have been replaced as well?" Draco retorted. Blaise blanched.
"Don't even remind me."
"I'd like to see him set foot in the dungeons, that coward," Artemis hissed. "If he even attempts to put his nasty fingers on my personal belongings, he will get a lot more than he bargained for."
"– To celebrate this wonderful holiday," Lockhart continued, unaware of the slowly increasing dissent among the general population, "I have several of my lovely cupids delivering Valentines today!"
Out of nowhere, several gnomes (that had probably been paid to dress up in such atrocious costumes – diapers, fake wings, and plastic bows – how awful it must be for them!) with sacks full of love-letters, cards, and miscellaneous postage leapt out and began scurrying around, finding their first victims of the day.
"I imagine that some people will be very pleased today!" Lockhart said cheerfully, unaware of the ruckus he was quickly inciting. "Don't overdo it on the Love Potions and Entrancing Enchantments, eh?" he said roguishly to Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick, who were sitting on either side of him (rumor was that the teachers actually drew straws secretly to decide who would have to suffer by sitting next to Lockhart).
Poor Flitwick buried his head in his tiny hands, face beet red. The Potions Master, on the other hand, looked as if he would force-feed poison to anyone who even dared ask him for a Love Potion.
"Let's get out of here, before we are targeted, too," Blaise muttered.
"Strategical retreat," Artemis agreed, and the Slytherin boys slunk out of the Great Hall.
They were safe – for now.
"Where should we go? This entire day is going to be a joke. The teachers are all too busy hiding from those poor gnomes to be teaching properly," Blaise said.
"Should we visit Theodore? I know he won't respond or anything, but it's better than nothing," Draco said.
"Why not? We may be safe from Lockhart's 'faithful servants' that way. Madam Pomfrey would throw a fit if they disrupted her patients," Artemis said.
"I wish Theo was here to see all this," Blaise muttered. He stared outside of the door of the hospital wing, and several gnomes were chasing some unwilling boys down the corridor, to Madam Pomfrey's great vexation.
"I'd like to see Lockhart get one of those mortifying Valentines," Draco muttered.
"Are you kidding? He'd probably enjoy them," Blaise sniffed.
"Unless they're from us," Artemis said. Bad idea. Blaise's eyes widened, and the evil smile came back. Artemis understood now how others felt when he used his vampire smile on them.
"You know…that's not a bad idea…"
"We should send him a Valentine," Draco joined in.
"A very, very nice one."
"A gift from a mysterious admirer."
"Delivered…by Peeves!"
Artemis sighed. What had he gotten himself into?
"Professor Snape, may we borrow some pickled frog livers?" Blaise asked innocently.
"And Flobberworms –" added Draco.
"And live scarab beetles – " Blaise supplied.
"And basically as many of your nastiest potions ingredients possible," Draco finished.
Their alternating dialogue would have made Fred and George proud.
Professor Snape glared at them. Not even he had escaped the wrath of Lockhart's singing Valentines (mainly from a few braver and slightly more stupid students who were trying to wheedle out some higher grades from him, plus one from Lockhart himself). The morbidly pink slips of paper had all been turned to ash by now.
"Why?"
"Oh, no reason." Blaise smiled.
Artemis mouthed If anything happens, we know nothing.
Professor Snape smiled and nodded in understanding. "I don't see why not."
The look on Lockhart's face as his fingers began blistering while his hideous robes were staining was priceless.
He never found out who the perpetrator was. He wasn't smart enough. Even if he had his suspicions, none of the other teachers bothered to help. Snape, of course, acted coldly, as though he didn't care, McGonagall told him to quit whining, and Dumbledore, who wasn't even there, simply smiled with a twinkle in his eye.
"Hey, you!"
Artemis ducked his head down and began walking faster and faster.
"Get back here!" A grubby little dwarf in uniform – Lockhart's uniform – had grasped onto his robe.
"Let go," Artemis snarled.
"You've got mail!" Oh, no.
"So I've presumed. Let go of me."
"It's a singing one – from a secret admirer." The dwarf was now kicking him in the shin and attempting to hold him back.
"I – don't – care." Artemis pointed his wand in the dwarf's face. The purpose was achieved; it froze.
"Listen, kid, just doing my job –"
"Listen, I know you hate this job, and I hate it as well, so please stop kicking me and we shall pretend this encounter never happened," he snapped. The dwarf still stood there. "Now leave, before I hex you, and as you can clearly judge from my face, you can probably tell that I will use the worst curse I can think of without any pause from my conscience, and believe me, I know many. It's Valentine's Day, and I think that the holiday spirit will be more lenient on troublemakers." Artemis grinned his vampire grin.
The dwarf, quite intelligently, could see the cold truth in his very displeased customer's eyes. Gulping, it threw the paper at Artemis and ran away before any more harm could come to it.
Artemis watched it go. He was not particularly fond of Valentine's Day in any way, and even less so because of Lockhart. These useless sheets of paper were not declarations of love; they were silly children's crushes that would probably change within a week. He was about to crumple the poem and throw it away, when he decided that he might as well read it, out of curiosity, just to see how absolutely awful it really was. Really! It wasn't as if he was flattered that someone was thinking about him or anything! Honestly!
(From the author: Our main character's completely horrified reaction as a result of this action has prompted me to graciously exclude the verse at his indirect request.)
"You should have showed me how to do that before that thing got to me," Harry said. Artemis cocked an eyebrow.
"He got one of the singing Valentines from a secret admirer, too," Hermione explained apologetically. "It wasn't exactly well-written or welcomed."
Back in the dungeons, two weeks later
"Hey, check this out," Blaise whispered at another one of their meetings. "I found this in the library – Secrets of the Animagi. Wouldn't it be cool, romping around as unregistered transformed wizards?" He grinned gleefully.
"It takes years to work, though," Draco pointed out.
"Well, if we start now, we might get it by fourth or fifth year," Artemis said. "Right now, though, we should finish up the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets, get Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid back, and just close the case while we wait for Theodore to wake up." For once, things seemed like they could go back to normal.
Until you learn the whole truth about yourself, anyway…
Even though that voice hadn't fully gone away. Once again, Artemis shut it into the box. At times like this, he couldn't allow stress or lassitude to cause him to let his guard down concerning his subconscious.
"What do you want to be, if you were one?" Blaise asked.
"A dragon," Draco answered immediately.
"Hah, that's expected."
"Well, it's better than – oh, I don't know – a ferret or something," the other responded indignantly.
"You don't get to choose, though – it's something to fit your personality," Artemis said.
"Then Blaise would be a monkey!" Draco jeered.
"Shut up! I'm way cooler than you –"
Artemis tuned out their bickering. The question was, what would he be?
A/N: The Animagus stuff probably won't come into play until around fourth year or so but you can continually pop in suggestions about what form you think will fit their personalities the best. And please, no magical creatures. That's way too predictable and Mary-Sue/Gary-Stu. And no really unusual animals from a different era, either, because that really wouldn't be useful. I mean, a T-Rex romping around Hogwarts can't exactly contribute to the plotline, even though it's funny.
