The Family Name
By Elbereth in April
Chapter 25
It got worse after that.
Draco sabotaged Artemis's cauldron in Potions. Artemis told Granger that sometimes while Draco was sleeping, he sucked his thumb. Draco threw Artemis's trunk out a tower window, and Artemis hexed his broom so it would only fly in circles. This, of course, isn't even taking into account the taunting insults they would sling back and forth at one another.
"This has got to stop!" Goyle cried suddenly at breakfast about a week later. "You two are driving me crazy!"
"And you're not happy," Eva added. "Either one of you."
"Can't you make a truce again?" Crabbe pleaded.
"Malfoy doesn't seem to have learned yet that he should just leave me alone," Artemis replied calmly.
Draco flushed. "Oh, that's what you want, is it?"
"Yes, actually."
"I'm hardly going to leave you alone after you tie-dye all my robes, or try to sic Dugbogs on me in Care of Magical Creatures. . ."
"Actually, that last wasn't me, it was Zabini."
Draco stood up and walked out of the Great Hall, leaving silence, a dismal Crabbe and Goyle, and Artemis wondering briefly if he was doing the right thing. Briefly.
In a shadowy section of corridor, Draco nearly tripped over Ginny Weasley. She was sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of her, leaning against the wall, gazing up at a huge portrait. It was of a smiling little girl picking daisies in a field of wildflowers.
"Hello, Malfoy," she said as he stumbled to a halt rather than fall over her legs.
"Weasley." He looked over his shoulder in the direction he had come, then back at her. "What are you doing here?"
"I wasn't hungry." She shrugged, then indicated the portrait. "She looks happy, doesn't she? Innocent--carefree. I was like that once."
He smothered a twinge of guilt for the part his father played. "Excuse me, are you confusing me with someone who cares?"
She looked up at him, seemingly unfazed by this comment. "Still fighting with Fowl, are you?"
His neutral, condescending expression changed to a glare. "So what if we are? We're rivals."
"It seems to me, Malfoy, as if you have more enemies than friends."
"Oh yeah? Well, I don't see you surrounded by friends!"
She sighed. "I'm appealing to your Slytherin instincts. Doesn't it make sense to have as many allies as possible?"
"Well, yes, but not just anybody. Malfoys are selective. We only take the best." He'd recovered his sneer.
"Oh? Then how do you explain Crabbe and Goyle?"
"Hey, don't insult them! You don't even know them!"
To his surprise, Ginny looked contrite. "You're right, I'm sorry."
He stared at her in shock.
"Here's another question, then," she continued. "What about Hermione? Clearly, she's an excellent witch, and very smart. Wouldn't she seem like a good ally? And yet, you write her off just because she's Muggle-born."
"You're as bad as Fowl." He scowled.
"Fowl--he's a Slytherin, and rich, and a genius. He killed the Basilisk, and told you how to kill Riddle, but you shun him, too, because he's not a pureblood."
"Shut up! I'm not listening to you!"
"Maybe I should be grateful. If Riddle wasn't a half-blood, you might not have burnt the diary."
He was breathing fast, and his stomach hurt. He felt very, very tired. "I have my father to think of," he mumbled, before he could take the words back.
"Ah, of course." She moved her legs at last, pulling her knees up to her chest, clearing the passageway in front of him. "You know, I bet Fowl would have a few ideas on how to handle that. He seems to be good at strategy."
He couldn't bear to meet her eyes any longer; he'd spent enough time pinned in her gaze. He strode away. She had already turned back to the painting.
Artemis found himself outmaneuvered by Goyle and Crabbe. They had cornered him in the boys' dormitory--literally. They were blocking his path with their combined bulk and he couldn't get around them. He'd tried putting them off with words, but they'd stubbornly ignored everything he said.
"All right!" he conceded finally. "I'm listening!"
"Everybody wants you and Draco to declare a truce. Your group and his group both. It's just the two of you that need convincing," Goyle told him seriously.
"So we intend to convince you," Crabbe said.
Artemis sighed. Perhaps things were getting out of hand. His deep and righteous anger had only lasted a few hours after the initial argument. Really, he'd been angrier at his own lack of control than Malfoy's comments. Malfoy's fear of whatever his father had written to him, along with his basic personality--he was an irritating, arrogant git--had pushed the other boy over the edge. But he should be used to Malfoy's personality by now, used to dealing with him. Even if the blonde boy had hit on a-- well, a sensitive subject, he should have been able to prevent himself from reacting as he did. He had said he wasn't going to lose his self-control again. He couldn't keep getting upset when Malfoy lived up to his expected irritatingness. The blonde had just been fishing for reactions, Artemis had known that, and still let himself become emotional. It was deplorable.
But since he'd already vowed that wouldn't happen again, he supposed he could let it go and forgive Malfoy. Returning to the old status-quo relationship would be in his own interests. He liked the other Second Years acting calmly; it kept his own affairs running more smoothly. It gave him more room to act and fewer problems to distract him. He'd proven to Malfoy that he was dangerous when insulted. That was good enough for now.
"I might be willing," Artemis answered finally, "if he is. Let him make the first move." Let him appease me, he thought.
"We want you two to make up," Crabbe told Draco. They'd caught him coming off the Quidditch pitch.
He balanced his newly de-hexed broom over his shoulder. "Enemies never truly 'make up.'"
"Call it another truce, then. Like the one over Christmas hols. Wasn't that nice?"
"Honestly, I don't think he'd go for it," Draco replied.
"He will. We already asked," Crabbe confessed.
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Did you now?"
They nodded.
"What happened to all your pureblooded supremacy, anyway?" he demanded, somewhere between amazed and annoyed.
Goyle shrugged. "I know what our fathers say. . ." He looked down, shuffled his feet, looked back up. "I think they may have a few flaws in their beliefs."
Draco just stared at him for a moment. "You--you do?" When Goyle nodded again, Draco turned to Crabbe. "And you?"
"I--I don't know," Crabbe admitted. "But--well, the thing is, there are Muggle-born, and then there's Artemis Fowl. I don't think the normal rules apply to him."
"Hn." Draco studied them both intently for a long while, then he sighed, and pressed a hand to his forehead. "Well, Father feels Fowl is beneath me. I'm not to associate with him."
"But, Draco," Crabbe pleaded, "what do you think?"
And just that simply, all his rationales and defenses crashed down again. Think for yourself. . .
"I know what I want," he said.
Eva entered the Common Room with Malfoy's owl on her arm. She walked up to Artemis. "There's a message for you."
Artemis untied the parchment warily, eyeing it as if it might explode.
Eva scratched the owl's head. "What's Malfoy want now?"
Artemis cast a spell on the letter to see if it was cursed in any way, then he opened it. Inside the letter was another letter, which he started to read first. It was in a bold, precise hand. "Draco, I have been hearing disturbing things about you. . ." It was the note to Malfoy from his father.
Artemis's eyes widened fractionally and he folded it up quickly. "I'll be in the dorm room."
Eva frowned. "Something's going on and you're not telling anyone. Again."
"Oh, it's just the same old stuff. I'll talk to you later." He headed for the stairs.
"Artemis!"
He looked back. Bole's hands were on her hips. "If there's going to be trouble, you will let us know, understand?"
Artemis half-smiled, amused. "When do I get into trouble?" He vanished down the steps before she could answer.
Artemis sat on a desk chair and read through Lucius's letter. Then he turned to Draco's.
"Fowl, this isn't an apology, because Malfoys don't apologize. Nor is this sympathy, because Malfoys don't care. It isn't like you need pity anyway; clearly your scheming, diabolical mind hasn't been affected by anything I've said or done.
"That fight that started all this--it was just another battle, another round in our rivalry, nothing personal. We provoke each other and go on, just like normal. Except things aren't exactly normal right now. I think it's time to stop messing with each other. I don't even want to be tormenting you. I have other things to worry about right now, as you can see from the other letter.
"Another thing Malfoys don't do is ask for help. They don't talk to Muggle- borns, either. But I've decided to break with a few Malfoy conventions.
"This brings me back to you. You're a genius, so you say--often. I'm admitting--and on paper, too--that I have seen evidence of your intelligence. I'm willing to deal. The question is, are you?"
Artemis folded up the letters again, then stared into the distance, frowning slightly. Well, here was a new twist on things. He'd reconciled himself to stop terrorizing Malfoy, and had been planning on just ignoring him the rest of the school year. But now, he had Malfoy's letter, asking him for help without asking. His first inclination was to refuse. Why should he put himself out to help Malfoy? After all, he didn't even like Malfoy. In fact, he could barely even tolerate Malfoy.
Right? Right, of course.
However, he did have an underlying motive. And maybe it had just been waiting for a chance like this. As soon as he'd traced Riddle's genealogy, and learned Salazar Slytherin was related to Rosebud Root, who was related to Theodore Maximus, he'd known it would come up sometime. Because Maximus was also related to Rowena Ravenclaw and Septimus Maximus Malfoy, and the message in the Chamber of Secrets had read, "Crushed to a fine powder. Next site: Malfoy Manor." That family had been around for a long time.
He hadn't been planning on getting Draco's assistance, but it would be an easier way into the Manor. Especially as he strongly suspected it was extremely well warded in addition to being unplottable.
Very well, if Malfoy wanted to deal, he was willing.
The fact that Artemis felt suddenly and strangely more light hearted over the idea of going back to the way things were could obviously be explained away. He had a brief moment of panic. . . but, no. He checked: basic ruthlessness still intact, lack of ethics in place, lack of respect for anyone less intelligent--ie, everyone, and strong personal ambition. His complete disregard for others must have wavered briefly, but he vowed to get it back in line.
The door opened and Draco walked in. He paused just for a fraction, then strode over and sat down on the neighboring desk. Their gazes met and locked. For a long moment, they just regarded one another.
Then Draco stuck his hands in his pockets, swallowed hard, and said in a rush, jarbled enough it took Artemis a second to realize what he'd said, "I didn't know, you know."
Artemis nodded. "I know."
Another silence while Draco frantically tried to remember what he'd planned to say.
Artemis spoke first. "You're right. It was just another fight. We should be able to move on from that, and re-establish our working relationship."
Draco's eyes went wide. "Yes. So. . . we establish our truce. We're OK?"
"OK as in--before?"
"That's it exactly! Before."
"Yes."
Draco silently rejoiced. "Slytherins always deal," he said with a hint of a smirk.
Artemis nodded. "We are Slytherin."
Draco took a deep breath, then released it. "What about. . . the rest of it?"
"Your problem? We can find a way around that. There are ways to conceal one's actions. Do you know how he watches you? Is it through magic? Spies?"
"I don't know. Probably both."
"I have learned a number of spells one can use specifically to tell if someone is watching you through magic, and to counter-act it. I'll teach them to you. As for spies, well, we simply discover their identities and convince them to work for you, not against you. They can't stop providing information all together, but we can make them say what we want them to say."
Draco nodded slowly. "What do you want in return for all this?"
"A favor for a favor."
"Specifics, Fowl."
Artemis gave him a look that made his nerves kick in and his stomach drop. He knew immediately that he wasn't going to like it.
"I want to visit Malfoy Manor."
It took a moment for this to sink in, then Draco jumped to his feet. "What? You read his letter--are you bloody well out of your bloody mind?"
Artemis wondered what Lucius would do to him that made him so afraid. "We'll go when he's not home, of course."
"What if he's watching and listening right now?"
"He's not. I warded this dorm room my first day here."
"But what do you want at our manor?"
"There's something there that I want to see."
"Fowl, you can't go prying around in my father's business. Genius or not, he'd find you out. He finds out everything. And then he'll kill you."
"He won't find out. Trust me."
"Fowl. . ."
"I took out his boss. Riddle."
"Oh, so now you're saying my father is a Death Eater?"
"Malfoy. I know he is." It was said gently, with supreme conviction.
Draco's breathing sounded very loud in his own ears. He refrained from screaming with difficulty. OK, so everybody suspected, but this. . . Fowl sounded as if he knew. He wasn't surprised somehow, but he wasn't sure what to do now.
"My father is a dangerous man," Draco said carefully. "You think you can beat him?" Artemis nodded. Draco wished he could believe him.
He ran one hand through his hair. "Look, Fowl, no matter what his crimes may or may not be, he's my father. I can't let you go snooping around in his private stuff. He's my father. Just because I--I don't want him watching me and I--may want to keep talking to certain people doesn't mean I'll let you do anything that might hurt him."
Artemis stored this information away. "Relax. My desire to see Malfoy Manor has nothing to do with your father, actually. I won't be looking at anything but the walls."
"You have an interest in architecture now? Is this like your interest in languages?"
"Very like. Somebody left a secret message in a carving on a wall, I suspect in the dungeon. I want to read it. And you wouldn't understand it, so don't bother looking without me."
"I'm hardly likely to. I don't like our dungeons. Fowl. . . you're sure about this?"
"Yes."
"And you're sure you can take care of my situation?"
"I'll take care of the spies, Malfoy, and I'll manage your father. Don't worry."
Draco couldn't believe he was letting Fowl talk him into this. "OK then. OK."
"Deal?"
"Deal. Swear on our wands, I think."
Artemis half-smiled. "Good idea."
They both took their wands out and held them up in front of them. Swearing on your wand was a binding promise. If you broke your word, your wand would break in two--and there was the chance you could lose your magic permanently. The odds were slim, but neither boy wanted to risk it.
"All right. I swear if you help me out with my father, I'll take you to the Manor."
"I swear that I'll help you with your father, providing you'll take me to Malfoy Manor.
Their wands glowed brightly for a moment. Glittering sparks cascaded around them. Then with a final brilliant flare, the light faded out.
Their eyes had locked once again. "So then, Fowl, what's the plan?"
A/N: Wow, you guys are great! I wouldn't have needed to explain at all? I'm glad you feel everyone is in character. I hope I'm moving the plot along and going places you like. I was going to drag their fighting out longer but I just wanted to get to the making up. I predict Holly's appearance in Ch. 27.
By Elbereth in April
Chapter 25
It got worse after that.
Draco sabotaged Artemis's cauldron in Potions. Artemis told Granger that sometimes while Draco was sleeping, he sucked his thumb. Draco threw Artemis's trunk out a tower window, and Artemis hexed his broom so it would only fly in circles. This, of course, isn't even taking into account the taunting insults they would sling back and forth at one another.
"This has got to stop!" Goyle cried suddenly at breakfast about a week later. "You two are driving me crazy!"
"And you're not happy," Eva added. "Either one of you."
"Can't you make a truce again?" Crabbe pleaded.
"Malfoy doesn't seem to have learned yet that he should just leave me alone," Artemis replied calmly.
Draco flushed. "Oh, that's what you want, is it?"
"Yes, actually."
"I'm hardly going to leave you alone after you tie-dye all my robes, or try to sic Dugbogs on me in Care of Magical Creatures. . ."
"Actually, that last wasn't me, it was Zabini."
Draco stood up and walked out of the Great Hall, leaving silence, a dismal Crabbe and Goyle, and Artemis wondering briefly if he was doing the right thing. Briefly.
In a shadowy section of corridor, Draco nearly tripped over Ginny Weasley. She was sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of her, leaning against the wall, gazing up at a huge portrait. It was of a smiling little girl picking daisies in a field of wildflowers.
"Hello, Malfoy," she said as he stumbled to a halt rather than fall over her legs.
"Weasley." He looked over his shoulder in the direction he had come, then back at her. "What are you doing here?"
"I wasn't hungry." She shrugged, then indicated the portrait. "She looks happy, doesn't she? Innocent--carefree. I was like that once."
He smothered a twinge of guilt for the part his father played. "Excuse me, are you confusing me with someone who cares?"
She looked up at him, seemingly unfazed by this comment. "Still fighting with Fowl, are you?"
His neutral, condescending expression changed to a glare. "So what if we are? We're rivals."
"It seems to me, Malfoy, as if you have more enemies than friends."
"Oh yeah? Well, I don't see you surrounded by friends!"
She sighed. "I'm appealing to your Slytherin instincts. Doesn't it make sense to have as many allies as possible?"
"Well, yes, but not just anybody. Malfoys are selective. We only take the best." He'd recovered his sneer.
"Oh? Then how do you explain Crabbe and Goyle?"
"Hey, don't insult them! You don't even know them!"
To his surprise, Ginny looked contrite. "You're right, I'm sorry."
He stared at her in shock.
"Here's another question, then," she continued. "What about Hermione? Clearly, she's an excellent witch, and very smart. Wouldn't she seem like a good ally? And yet, you write her off just because she's Muggle-born."
"You're as bad as Fowl." He scowled.
"Fowl--he's a Slytherin, and rich, and a genius. He killed the Basilisk, and told you how to kill Riddle, but you shun him, too, because he's not a pureblood."
"Shut up! I'm not listening to you!"
"Maybe I should be grateful. If Riddle wasn't a half-blood, you might not have burnt the diary."
He was breathing fast, and his stomach hurt. He felt very, very tired. "I have my father to think of," he mumbled, before he could take the words back.
"Ah, of course." She moved her legs at last, pulling her knees up to her chest, clearing the passageway in front of him. "You know, I bet Fowl would have a few ideas on how to handle that. He seems to be good at strategy."
He couldn't bear to meet her eyes any longer; he'd spent enough time pinned in her gaze. He strode away. She had already turned back to the painting.
Artemis found himself outmaneuvered by Goyle and Crabbe. They had cornered him in the boys' dormitory--literally. They were blocking his path with their combined bulk and he couldn't get around them. He'd tried putting them off with words, but they'd stubbornly ignored everything he said.
"All right!" he conceded finally. "I'm listening!"
"Everybody wants you and Draco to declare a truce. Your group and his group both. It's just the two of you that need convincing," Goyle told him seriously.
"So we intend to convince you," Crabbe said.
Artemis sighed. Perhaps things were getting out of hand. His deep and righteous anger had only lasted a few hours after the initial argument. Really, he'd been angrier at his own lack of control than Malfoy's comments. Malfoy's fear of whatever his father had written to him, along with his basic personality--he was an irritating, arrogant git--had pushed the other boy over the edge. But he should be used to Malfoy's personality by now, used to dealing with him. Even if the blonde boy had hit on a-- well, a sensitive subject, he should have been able to prevent himself from reacting as he did. He had said he wasn't going to lose his self-control again. He couldn't keep getting upset when Malfoy lived up to his expected irritatingness. The blonde had just been fishing for reactions, Artemis had known that, and still let himself become emotional. It was deplorable.
But since he'd already vowed that wouldn't happen again, he supposed he could let it go and forgive Malfoy. Returning to the old status-quo relationship would be in his own interests. He liked the other Second Years acting calmly; it kept his own affairs running more smoothly. It gave him more room to act and fewer problems to distract him. He'd proven to Malfoy that he was dangerous when insulted. That was good enough for now.
"I might be willing," Artemis answered finally, "if he is. Let him make the first move." Let him appease me, he thought.
"We want you two to make up," Crabbe told Draco. They'd caught him coming off the Quidditch pitch.
He balanced his newly de-hexed broom over his shoulder. "Enemies never truly 'make up.'"
"Call it another truce, then. Like the one over Christmas hols. Wasn't that nice?"
"Honestly, I don't think he'd go for it," Draco replied.
"He will. We already asked," Crabbe confessed.
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Did you now?"
They nodded.
"What happened to all your pureblooded supremacy, anyway?" he demanded, somewhere between amazed and annoyed.
Goyle shrugged. "I know what our fathers say. . ." He looked down, shuffled his feet, looked back up. "I think they may have a few flaws in their beliefs."
Draco just stared at him for a moment. "You--you do?" When Goyle nodded again, Draco turned to Crabbe. "And you?"
"I--I don't know," Crabbe admitted. "But--well, the thing is, there are Muggle-born, and then there's Artemis Fowl. I don't think the normal rules apply to him."
"Hn." Draco studied them both intently for a long while, then he sighed, and pressed a hand to his forehead. "Well, Father feels Fowl is beneath me. I'm not to associate with him."
"But, Draco," Crabbe pleaded, "what do you think?"
And just that simply, all his rationales and defenses crashed down again. Think for yourself. . .
"I know what I want," he said.
Eva entered the Common Room with Malfoy's owl on her arm. She walked up to Artemis. "There's a message for you."
Artemis untied the parchment warily, eyeing it as if it might explode.
Eva scratched the owl's head. "What's Malfoy want now?"
Artemis cast a spell on the letter to see if it was cursed in any way, then he opened it. Inside the letter was another letter, which he started to read first. It was in a bold, precise hand. "Draco, I have been hearing disturbing things about you. . ." It was the note to Malfoy from his father.
Artemis's eyes widened fractionally and he folded it up quickly. "I'll be in the dorm room."
Eva frowned. "Something's going on and you're not telling anyone. Again."
"Oh, it's just the same old stuff. I'll talk to you later." He headed for the stairs.
"Artemis!"
He looked back. Bole's hands were on her hips. "If there's going to be trouble, you will let us know, understand?"
Artemis half-smiled, amused. "When do I get into trouble?" He vanished down the steps before she could answer.
Artemis sat on a desk chair and read through Lucius's letter. Then he turned to Draco's.
"Fowl, this isn't an apology, because Malfoys don't apologize. Nor is this sympathy, because Malfoys don't care. It isn't like you need pity anyway; clearly your scheming, diabolical mind hasn't been affected by anything I've said or done.
"That fight that started all this--it was just another battle, another round in our rivalry, nothing personal. We provoke each other and go on, just like normal. Except things aren't exactly normal right now. I think it's time to stop messing with each other. I don't even want to be tormenting you. I have other things to worry about right now, as you can see from the other letter.
"Another thing Malfoys don't do is ask for help. They don't talk to Muggle- borns, either. But I've decided to break with a few Malfoy conventions.
"This brings me back to you. You're a genius, so you say--often. I'm admitting--and on paper, too--that I have seen evidence of your intelligence. I'm willing to deal. The question is, are you?"
Artemis folded up the letters again, then stared into the distance, frowning slightly. Well, here was a new twist on things. He'd reconciled himself to stop terrorizing Malfoy, and had been planning on just ignoring him the rest of the school year. But now, he had Malfoy's letter, asking him for help without asking. His first inclination was to refuse. Why should he put himself out to help Malfoy? After all, he didn't even like Malfoy. In fact, he could barely even tolerate Malfoy.
Right? Right, of course.
However, he did have an underlying motive. And maybe it had just been waiting for a chance like this. As soon as he'd traced Riddle's genealogy, and learned Salazar Slytherin was related to Rosebud Root, who was related to Theodore Maximus, he'd known it would come up sometime. Because Maximus was also related to Rowena Ravenclaw and Septimus Maximus Malfoy, and the message in the Chamber of Secrets had read, "Crushed to a fine powder. Next site: Malfoy Manor." That family had been around for a long time.
He hadn't been planning on getting Draco's assistance, but it would be an easier way into the Manor. Especially as he strongly suspected it was extremely well warded in addition to being unplottable.
Very well, if Malfoy wanted to deal, he was willing.
The fact that Artemis felt suddenly and strangely more light hearted over the idea of going back to the way things were could obviously be explained away. He had a brief moment of panic. . . but, no. He checked: basic ruthlessness still intact, lack of ethics in place, lack of respect for anyone less intelligent--ie, everyone, and strong personal ambition. His complete disregard for others must have wavered briefly, but he vowed to get it back in line.
The door opened and Draco walked in. He paused just for a fraction, then strode over and sat down on the neighboring desk. Their gazes met and locked. For a long moment, they just regarded one another.
Then Draco stuck his hands in his pockets, swallowed hard, and said in a rush, jarbled enough it took Artemis a second to realize what he'd said, "I didn't know, you know."
Artemis nodded. "I know."
Another silence while Draco frantically tried to remember what he'd planned to say.
Artemis spoke first. "You're right. It was just another fight. We should be able to move on from that, and re-establish our working relationship."
Draco's eyes went wide. "Yes. So. . . we establish our truce. We're OK?"
"OK as in--before?"
"That's it exactly! Before."
"Yes."
Draco silently rejoiced. "Slytherins always deal," he said with a hint of a smirk.
Artemis nodded. "We are Slytherin."
Draco took a deep breath, then released it. "What about. . . the rest of it?"
"Your problem? We can find a way around that. There are ways to conceal one's actions. Do you know how he watches you? Is it through magic? Spies?"
"I don't know. Probably both."
"I have learned a number of spells one can use specifically to tell if someone is watching you through magic, and to counter-act it. I'll teach them to you. As for spies, well, we simply discover their identities and convince them to work for you, not against you. They can't stop providing information all together, but we can make them say what we want them to say."
Draco nodded slowly. "What do you want in return for all this?"
"A favor for a favor."
"Specifics, Fowl."
Artemis gave him a look that made his nerves kick in and his stomach drop. He knew immediately that he wasn't going to like it.
"I want to visit Malfoy Manor."
It took a moment for this to sink in, then Draco jumped to his feet. "What? You read his letter--are you bloody well out of your bloody mind?"
Artemis wondered what Lucius would do to him that made him so afraid. "We'll go when he's not home, of course."
"What if he's watching and listening right now?"
"He's not. I warded this dorm room my first day here."
"But what do you want at our manor?"
"There's something there that I want to see."
"Fowl, you can't go prying around in my father's business. Genius or not, he'd find you out. He finds out everything. And then he'll kill you."
"He won't find out. Trust me."
"Fowl. . ."
"I took out his boss. Riddle."
"Oh, so now you're saying my father is a Death Eater?"
"Malfoy. I know he is." It was said gently, with supreme conviction.
Draco's breathing sounded very loud in his own ears. He refrained from screaming with difficulty. OK, so everybody suspected, but this. . . Fowl sounded as if he knew. He wasn't surprised somehow, but he wasn't sure what to do now.
"My father is a dangerous man," Draco said carefully. "You think you can beat him?" Artemis nodded. Draco wished he could believe him.
He ran one hand through his hair. "Look, Fowl, no matter what his crimes may or may not be, he's my father. I can't let you go snooping around in his private stuff. He's my father. Just because I--I don't want him watching me and I--may want to keep talking to certain people doesn't mean I'll let you do anything that might hurt him."
Artemis stored this information away. "Relax. My desire to see Malfoy Manor has nothing to do with your father, actually. I won't be looking at anything but the walls."
"You have an interest in architecture now? Is this like your interest in languages?"
"Very like. Somebody left a secret message in a carving on a wall, I suspect in the dungeon. I want to read it. And you wouldn't understand it, so don't bother looking without me."
"I'm hardly likely to. I don't like our dungeons. Fowl. . . you're sure about this?"
"Yes."
"And you're sure you can take care of my situation?"
"I'll take care of the spies, Malfoy, and I'll manage your father. Don't worry."
Draco couldn't believe he was letting Fowl talk him into this. "OK then. OK."
"Deal?"
"Deal. Swear on our wands, I think."
Artemis half-smiled. "Good idea."
They both took their wands out and held them up in front of them. Swearing on your wand was a binding promise. If you broke your word, your wand would break in two--and there was the chance you could lose your magic permanently. The odds were slim, but neither boy wanted to risk it.
"All right. I swear if you help me out with my father, I'll take you to the Manor."
"I swear that I'll help you with your father, providing you'll take me to Malfoy Manor.
Their wands glowed brightly for a moment. Glittering sparks cascaded around them. Then with a final brilliant flare, the light faded out.
Their eyes had locked once again. "So then, Fowl, what's the plan?"
A/N: Wow, you guys are great! I wouldn't have needed to explain at all? I'm glad you feel everyone is in character. I hope I'm moving the plot along and going places you like. I was going to drag their fighting out longer but I just wanted to get to the making up. I predict Holly's appearance in Ch. 27.