Artemis struggled out of the bushes at midnight, sore, hungry, and exhausted. All he wanted was for Holly to get here, and soon (and possibly for her to bring some food along). The itching tormented him, and several times as he walked toward the lake he turned in circles to make sure no one was around. There was never anyone there when he looked.

Worse, he could feel his magic draining, leaving him feeling empty and helpless. All he could manage was to keep his shield going as he sat down beside the water. His wand would be useless, and so would shielding, soon enough. He was never one for praying - wasn't a religious person at all - but found himself doing so as he waited, occasionally feeling himself flicker into visibility. He hugged himself, pulling his knees to him like he had in the bathroom, and shook.

All at once, his shield failed him entirely, and the fours, which had been suspiciously well-behaved for the rest of the day, crept closer, as if sensing his oncoming breakdown. He tucked his head in between his chest and his knees and tried to ignore them, but it was impossible. He imagined he could feel their electric heat on his skin, and he couldn't stop shuddering.

Perhaps I'll have control now? Orion asked, hopefully. Artemis despised him. I can interrogate Mr. Potter, since you refuse to. I think I'll get more done, all around. And I can spend time with the Princess as well. His voice was wistful.

I refuse to give you any amount of control, Artemis spat. Leave me be.

I really can't.

Artemis wanted to lash out at something, vent his aggressions. Holly wasn't here yet - he never should have trusted her to be, never should have trusted Foaly to give her the message - the itching was now almost painful, and Orion kept lamenting his loneliness inside Artemis' head, not to mention the fours, all around, coming closer.

"Mr. Fowl!" a familiar, sharp voice shouted, but he didn't move, didn't even look up. The voice neared, but he refused to react. It was probably just a hallucination - he knew the fours weren't real, despite the sight edge of pain they were now causing, being so close, and the way they looked so very there, and he knew this wasn't real either - so he ignored it.

"Mr. Fowl," the voice repeated, and it sounded very much like Professor McGonagall, especially this close. The voice was more concerned now, and coming closer. It was very convincing, as far as hallucinations went. There were even footsteps, muffled because of the grass, and the rustle of skirts. Artemis would have been impressed, if he weren't so pointedly not paying attention. "Mr. Fowl, what are you doing out here at this time of night?" Artemis hoped, if the hallucination was real, in fact actually his Head of House, that she wouldn't notice him trembling in the darkness. Despite the full moon, the night was still very black. Maybe it was real, he thought doubtfully, but still refused to look up. Just in case. He couldn't trust his instincts at this point - the itching had led him nowhere, after all. "Mr. Fowl..." she trailed off, now clearly worried.

A hesitant hand settled on his shoulder, startling him, and he jerked away, almost tumbling into the lake in the process. Now he had to look, although he tried very hard to avoid the fours hovering all around, focusing instead on the figure of his Transfiguration professor, staring at him in shock. She met his eyes, and hers widened considerably. She fished out her wand and pointed it at him. It crossed his mind, too late, that he must look terrible. Bloody, leaves and sticks in his hair and on his clothes, his suit possibly torn, not even entirely dry yet, his eyes wild.

You need a shower, Orion offered, so very helpfully. Artemis thought that if he could throttle his alter, he would.

"Come with me, Mr. Fowl," McGonagall ordered, her tone clipped. "We need to talk." Her voice didn't tremble, although her eyes were worried.

Artemis found himself at a loss for words. What could he say? He didn't want to agree, and come along - he needed Holly here, he needed the pills - but he couldn't exactly say no, could he? And he was in no shape to fight her off. He had no magic left anymore, he thought, except maybe for a tiny healing. His wand was about as dangerous now as any stick in the Forbidden Forest. And there was no way he would be able to use physical force to escape if necessary - even if he hadn't been starving, tired, half-crazed, and out of magic, he was hardly strong.

"Mr. Fowl," the professor prompted, flicking her wand at him warningly. "On your feet."

As she spoke, the fours drifted closer, forming a tight circle around him and hissing. He felt the warmth of them as they sparked on his skin, and although he flinched, they were all around, and he almost fell into one behind him. His heart thudded so loudly he could hardly hear.

McGonagall must have seen something in his eyes as she looked at him again, because she set her jaw, readied her wand, and said, "Stupefy."

It was almost a gift to slip into unconsciousness.


Minerva McGonagall had Dobby transport the stray exchange student to her office, while she used the normal method - that was, walking - to join them.

"Dobby just saw him Miss," the house elf gibbered, for probably the third time, as she walked into the room and closed the door. "Dobby was walking around and saw him, and he was flickering, Miss-"

She didn't know how she was supposed to interpret that, but now wasn't the time to interrogate Dobby. She had to take care of Mr. Fowl, who was currently lying on the floor by Minverva's desk and beginning to stir. Normally, she would have brought him to the headmaster's office. But with Dumbledore gone out with Mr. Potter...well, that would do no good now. She took her mind off of that and instead focused on taking the exchange student's wand and slipping it into her pocket, even as he awakened. "We'll speak later," she told Dobby, and with a bit of a pout, he snapped his fingers and vanished.

"Mr. Fowl," she scolded as the boy's eyes blinked blearily open. She turned her complete attention to him, trying to stay away from the subject of flickering for the moment. "You've been missing from all of your classes today, and couldn't be found in your dormitory. Professor Snape reported seeing you in the bathroom when Mr. Malfoy was injured, and said he sent you off. Where have you been, and what were you doing out on school grounds at this time of night?" She rattled the questions off briskly, her wand at the ready in case the student for some reason proved hostile.

He blinked at her for a moment.

"Well? I know you aren't thick, Mr. Fowl, and if you refuse to answer me we'll have to revert to other methods." The thought of using Veritaserum on a student repulsed her. It might be necessary, however. Mr. Fowl had already been suspicious (at least according to one Harry Potter, although McGonagall didn't entirely disagree), and with staying out late at night thrown into the mix...well. Not to mention Dobby's so-called flickering.

A few more blinks and then, "Hullo." The boy's voice, normally cold and formal, was now absurdly cheerful, although with a healthy shot of confusion. "What...oh, right, yes!" He pointed at her. "You shot that spell at me, didn't you? I suppose I should be offended, but I really must thank you. It's been too long since I've been out." He stretched his fingers experimentally and grinned sunnily, to McGonagall's astonishment. And then he straightened importantly, lifting his chin in a regal manner. "I'm Orion, by the way. The brave knight to Artemis' cowardly dragon." Another stupidly happy grin.

"Whatever do you mean by that?" Minerva snapped, unnerved. Now she pointed her wand at him, although he hardly reacted at all to the threat. "If you refuse to answer me, I'll have to revert to more unpleasant methods."

"Artemis is a nice enough fellow, for the most part," the self-named Orion began thoughtfully, "but he can be very much a coward, and boarish. I, however, am very brave, and very not-boarish. Also friendlier, although I'm not often given the opportunity to speak to people. Despite his lack of skill, Artemis insists on commandeering conversations." The smile faded slightly, accompanied by an exaggerated eye-roll.

"So you've taken over a student's body?" It didn't sound like a recent thing, however, the way he'd been talking. Minerva feared it had been going on for a long while; perhaps it had started at the very beginning of the school year.

Orion blinked. "It's my body, too," he said, in almost a scolding manner. "It's mine just as much as Artemis'. Granted, it was his own first, but now we share it." And then, startingly, he froze, features hardening into concentration. Minerva's grip tightened around her wand, and even as she was preparing to cast a spell, the boy winced, and jolted back to life. "Sorry," he told her, rolling his head on his neck until it cracked. "He's doing an awful lot of banging; more than the last time. But he won't get out just yet! I've still got to see the Princess." Orion's face softened, eyes turning dreamy. It was a shocking expression on the usually sharp, stern young face.

"Who are you talking about?" Minerva questioned, keeping her wand trained on the boy.

He seemed about to answer, but then paused, and replied instead, "I would tell you." This came with a wistful sigh. "She'll be very angry with me, though." His expression became determined. "So I won't."

"There will be consequences."

He lifted his chin once more, but this time in a defiant way. "I don't care." He almost appeared to be pouting.

Minerva didn't want to, really. He still looked like a student, even if he wasn't at all. She kept at the front of her mind the idea that the real owner of the body was, according to its current occupent, fighting to get dominance, and used the rush of anger that gave her to say, "Confundus." She didn't want to render Orion unconscious again, in case it would bring back Artemis. She wanted to rescue the boy, of course (despite the fact that she didn't much like him), but she needed to question his oppressor. At least, by using the truth serum, she would be sure to get a truthful answer for the most important questions.

The boy (or rather, the one possessing him) blinked, swaying, and McGonagall took this opportunity to take him by the arm and hoist him off the floor, from which he hadn't moved once besides sitting up. "Come along, Mr. Orion," she said briskly, leading him from her office. He followed without resistance, his expression puzzled.

It took a little bit, and another casting of the spell, to make it down to Professor Slughorn's dungeon room. By the time they arrived, Orion was coming out of his stupor, and beginning to shake his head in an attempt to focus once more. Minerva knocked sharply on the potion professor's door, and was rewarded when it swung open just a moment later.

"Minerva!" Horace boomed, filling the doorway to his classroom. Orion had roused further, but not enough to avoid being confused by the walrus of a man in front of him. "And Mr. Fowl! Welcome, welcome, welcome! How can I help you?" He glanced at the way McGonagall's hand was wrapped around her student's bony wrist. "Has there been some trouble?"

"You could say that," Minerva replied dryly. "May we come in, Horace? We'd like use of your facilities."

The man looked nervous, but said, "Yes, of course, of course. Come inside." He moved aside to allow them entry, waddling over to his desk at the front of the room. "Is there anything in particular you need?"

McGonagall thinned her lips unhappily. "Veritaserum."

Horace blinked, glancing between student and teacher. Orion blinked back at him, eyes still foggy with the effects of the spell. "What's happened?" The man began to look pale, although he attempted a joking air. "Gotten into a bit of a pickle, Mr. Fowl?"

Orion squinted, apparently trying to make sense of this. "Knights don't get into pickles," he replied several tense seconds later, slowly, raising his head slightly again in an attempt to look superior.

"Knights," Horace repeated.

"I'm afraid we're not dealing with Artemis, Horace," Minerva said. "You'll understand, soon, hopefully, as will I. Veritaserum, please?"

The large man seemed to be trying to respond, but instead just closed his mouth and nodded. "Right, right, yes..." he trailed off as he disappeared into his office.

While he busied himself with his search, Minerva took Orion along with her as she found a chair. He sat in it readily enough, suddenly swaying in a way that couldn't have been from the spell before he collapsed into it. He looked much paler, now, the color of paper, and clutched the edges of the chair.

"Is there a problem?" McGonagall questioned, watching him carefully.

Orion's wide-eyed expression turned determined. "I'm perfectly fine," he answered, borderline haughty. "Never you..." his voice faded, but he was saved from questions on the subject when Horace came hobbling in again, cradling a vial of liquid in one hand. He offered this to Minerva, who took it reluctantly.

"Call Severus, would you?" she appealed. "We might need his assistance."

Horace's face twisted unhappily, but he sighed and agreed. "Very well." He disappeared into his office once more.

"Do you plan to poison me?" Orion demanded of McGonagall as soon as the man had left. "I am not as weak as you seem to think. I am very much a knight. I even have a noble steed, although he will not allow me to ride upon his back." There was something far-off in his eyes, distant and out of reality. It twisted Minerva's stomach, with both uncertainty and pity. Whoever he was, Orion didn't live in the same world that everyone else did. If he'd spent so much time inside Artemis' mind, as he claimed, it would be possible to lose touch with reality, but Minerva didn't think anyone could wander this far off the path, at least in a year. Perhaps in a few, but certainly it wouldn't happen in just one, would it?

"He's coming," Horace announced as he entered the room again. "Probably be here in a few minutes."

"Thank you, Horace," Minerva said, stepping back from the boy in the chair. "Incarcerous." Ropes sprang out of thin air and bound Orion to the chair, where he struggled for a moment, legs kicking before they, too, were tied.

"Wasn't going to run away," he pouted, slouching. His hair fell into his eyes, unusually dishevelled. The black of it contrasted sharply with the snow-white of his skin. He almost looked like a ghost, complete with the zombie-like bags under his eyes that spoke of a long while without sleep.

"We couldn't take a chance," Horace jumped in. "You understand." He seemed to ignore the annoyed look Minerva shot him, but she knew he'd caught it. She didn't appreciate him butting in, although she felt childish for thinking it.

Sooner than expected, Severus swept inside, cloak swishing out behind him. Orion looked up at him curiously, and when he saw the boy tied to the chair, Snape's eyes hardened.

"Trouble?" he drawled in his typical nasally voice.

"I'm afraid so," McGonagall sighed. "I was planning to use Veritaserum," she flashed the other professor the vial she'd obtained, "but I thought perhaps your services would also be necessary."

"And what exactly is the problem?"

McGonagall nodded to the boy tied to the chair. "You'll find out soon enough." She approached Orion, who looked up at her through his hair, eyes wide and innocent, but with an edge of determination in them, and uncorked the vial of Veritaserum. "Open," she commanded, unsurprised when the boy clenched his jaw and shook his head stubbornly. "Mr. Orion," she scolded, but still he fought against her, squeezing his eyes shut and struggling. Seeing no other option, she once again said, "Confundus," and watched as the boy's eyes fogged again. "Open," she repeated, pulling at his mouth, and this time he complied, blinking sluggishly. She tipped the vial until three drops of the liquid were pooled on his tongue, and then retreated. "Swallow." He obeyed readily enough, although his face was the picture of uncertainty. And then it slowly cleared, and McGonagall said, "Rennervate," to rouse him.

The confusion faded quickly, and the boy straightened a little in his chair. Snape and Horace stood on either side of Minerva as she stepped back. The three teachers made a wall in front of the imprisoned boy, who was half-smiling obliviously at them.

"You are not Artemis Fowl, correct?" Minerva asked, ignoring the side-looks given to her by her co-workers.

"No," Orion said cheerfully. McGonagall saw out of the corner of her eye Snape's scowl deepen, and Horace pale further, by a few shades.

"What's your name?" she went on. "Full name."

"Orion Fowl." The same surname as Artemis, surprisingly. She wondered if he'd adopted it because he was posessing the boy, but he clearly believed it to be his own, so perhaps not.

"Are you related to Artemis?"

He actually giggled, resulting in a sneer from Severus. "As related as you can get to someone."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Severus jeered.

"Never mind that," Minerva interrupted, shooting Snape a look. He glared right back at her, but relented. Orion seemed about to answer the question anyway, but Minerva spoke before he could get anything out. "It's not important right now. What were you doing outside tonight? You said you were waiting for someone, correct?"

"Yes!" And now his face brightened, and his eyes shone. "We were supposed to meet the Princess! We waited all day, and all night." Here he turned mournful. "She still hasn't come."

Minerva took a step forward and met his eyes. "Who is she?"

"Captain Holly Short," Orion rattled off, sorrow turning to pride. "Of the LEP. Endlessly brave, selfless, and noble! The fair lady needs no looking after, although it would be my greatest preasure to do so for her." He looked so expectant and happy, McGonagall was momentarily overwhelmed with guilt. Veritaserum had always seemed unethical to her, and she'd never intended to use it on a student. She supposed Orion didn't count, but he looked like a much happier version of Artemis, and she couldn't get that thought out of her head. She wondered if this would be the start of her using the truth potion more frequently to get answers out of her students; a slippery slope to fall down indeed. She disguised a shudder by straightening her robe as she pulled away.

Severus continued to sneer at the boy, obviously amused. Horace too looked entertained, although he had the grace to blush when McGonagall locked eyes with him.

"Are you and she the same?" she questioned Orion, whose expression dropped into a sad one again.

"Not at all," he sighed. "I'm nothing more than a thought, I fear; she is as real as the trees, or the sun, or the stars. I am only an illusion, a product of guilt, magic, and fear. Sometimes I think I'm as real as anything. But sometimes I wonder if I won't just disappear one day." He didn't seem to think very deeply about things, and in fact didn't appear to even be very intelligent, but now he looked shaken, hollow, and terrified.

"What are you, then?" Minerva asked. And maybe, with the way his eyes were glinting, it was cruel, but she needed to know.

"I'm Artemis' alternate personality," he declared, stiffening his spine and straining against the ropes in a vain attempt to appear larger. The glint was still evident, hinting at tears, but they didn't escape and the boy met her eyes evenly.

"What do you mean by that?" Horace blurted, folding and unfolding his hands repeatedly in his lap.

Orion opened his mouth to respond, but then froze, and after a moment bared his teeth. Horace paled considerably, as if he thought the boy would break through his bindings, while Severus drew his wand.

"Don't try to fight the effects of the potion," Minerva ordered Orion, while thinking about what he'd said earlier - alternate personality. That was a disorder, wasn't it? So he wasn't possessing Artemis then, simply taking control-

Orion shook his head. "I promise you I'm not," he protested petulently through his teeth. "Artemis is-" he cut off, and then, suddenly, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he almost unbalenced the chair as his body turned limp.

Severus raised his wand and kept it pointed at the boy as he approached him. "He's not going to harm you," Minerva protested, guilt churning her gut. She shouldn't have given him the truth serum - if he and Artemis shared a body, then they were both her students, weren't they? She shuddered at the thought. Even if he...or they...were working for the Dark Lord...and she hadn't even gotten to that question yet. Horace looked like he might make a move to comfort her, but instead did nothing, staring with wide eyes as Snape examined the unconscious boy. Or boys, was it?

"Unresponsive," Snape confirmed after a few moments of strained silence. "It sounded like Mr. Fowl - the original, that is - was putting up a fight, however that would be possible." The typical sneer took up residence on his face once more.

"We should untie him." McGonagall moved to do so, but was stopped when Severus held up an arm to bar her way.

"We still don't know if he works for the Dark Lord," the greasy-haired man intoned. "This Holly Short of his could be in league with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

It was an unsettling thought, and didn't keep Minerva from wanting to release her pupil, but she had to admit that it was a possibility. She thinned her lips angrily, and stepped away.

"Perhaps one of us should go out and attempt to meet her," Slughorn offered, unusually timid. Minerva cursed his cowardice, displaying her displeasure with a frown, which the man ignored. "Take her in and question her, too."

Snape nodded in agreement, and although she hated to think it, Minerva thought it might not be a bad idea.

"Why don't you go, Horace?" she suggested. The potions professor paled further than he had yet, and wrung his hands.

"Well, well, I - I don't think I'm really-"

"I'm sure you can handle it," Minerva interrupted frostily. He stopped his protests with a frown.

"Indeed," Severus put in. His black eyes were disdainful as they met Horace's. "If you can handle it, of course. Otherwise, I'll be happy to go."

Horace met this challenge with a frustrated sigh. "Oh...fine. I'll take care of it." He pulled his wand out and waddled out of the room, brow furrowed. The door slammed shut behind him.


I don't have the next chapter totally written, because I forgot to bring my copy of HP6 to my dad's and I sort of need that to wrap things up for Chapter 13. But don't worry. I'll have it all finished, and Chapter 14 as well, by next Saturday. I think Saturdays will probably be my update days, seeing as that's when I usually get these chapters up.

I also offer my condolences to the MCR fandom, if there are any readers in that. I don't mean to upset you by mentioning it - but I'm truly sorry about everything, and it really is awful. I send all my love.

On a brighter note, things are really coming along with this story, despite my as-of-posting lack of book, and I'm so thankful for all of you, and your support, as usual. You guys really brighten my days with your reviews. So leave them, please!

And I hope you enjoyed Orion in this chapter. I feel like I got him at least pretty close to being in-character. Same with the other characters. If you guys have any suggestions or opinions about that, you know what to do.

See you on Saturday, then!