Disclaimer: Don't you get a sense of deja'vu while reading these? Same old, same old.
Rewritten as of September 26, 2004
Chapter Two: Knock-Turn and Diagon
The Leaky Cauldron
Diagon Alley, London
They appeared in what seemed to be the room of a Medieval inn. Two large, comfortable-looking beds with thick patchwork quilts occupied one side of the cozy room, and a cheery fire blazed in the stone fireplace. All four pieces of luggage were perched precariously on a pine-wood table groaning beneath the weight, and a partially ajar door revealed a washbasin and a mirror. Another door was firmly closed with what seemed like a primitive key-hole in it.
Artemis turned to the Professor to question this reasoning, only to find that she was gone. Pursing his lips in an unconsciously McGonagall-like fashion, he slipped the fairy-computer prototype out of his lone suitcase. Ignoring Juliet's security sweep of the room—mostly consisting of a check to see if they had the complimentary shampoo and conditioners—he sat down on the closer of the two beds and unfolded the box. Typing quickly, he uploaded the precious few gigabytes of information downloaded from the LEP web site.
He pursed his lips again, a faint frown wrinkling his pale brow. McGonagall said she was going to bring them to Diagon Alley with very little explanation as to what they were to do when they got there.
Artemis checked a convenient map of Diagon while Juliet continued her inspectation to the mirror, seeking any imperfections that could be hidden cameras. The inn they were most likely in, judging by the handsome view of a very unmagical world outside the crystalline window, was The Leaky Cauldron, which was perched on the gateway to Diagon and the entire Magical world.
It took him nearly an hour to arrange their day, during which Juliet began to unpack. Flags on the diagram had given him short yet detailed answers to divine the purposes of the buildings, which he silently thanked Foaly for. Nothing else could have been expected of the Fairy he knew only through descriptions and reputation.
Gringotts would have to be first. According to the diagram, the gnomes there were capable and even adept at using 'Muggle' computer systems. He did not doubt they would be able to access his account, Swiss or no.
When Juliet saw him pasking up the cube, she could not have been more relieved. Searching for a vial of nailpolish through her clothes got a little boring after a while. "About time," she stated, and tapped her foot impatiently when she reached the door.
In a few minutes he joined her by the door, and without a word walked down the hall, pausing only to lock the entrance with the key he had found buried beneath Juliet's largest bag.
"So where are we going?" she asked eventually, walking next to Artemis down a stairway.
Artemis paused before he answered. "Gringotts, the wizard's bank." He paused again. "The only wizard's bank. And you forgot your cloak."
Juliet scowled at the side of Artemis' head, but accepted the proferred keys and fled back up the pine stairs. She had hoped to 'accidentally' leave the dratted thing behind, and walk amongst wizardry in her favored jeans and pink Hello Kitty t-shirt. Well, Domovoi had to be given some credit. At least it matched her eyes.
Artemis entered a room full of bizarre people, almost all in pointy hats and flowing robes like the one Juliet had left behind. Many had full tankards of golden liquid—wizard beer?—foaming at their finger-tips, varying expressions of curiosity on their faces as he sidled his way around the edge of the room to the door on the other side.
A tall, golden-haired man with a supremely satisfied face walked up to him, flashing a brilliant smile as he sat down languidly in a convenient chair. Artemis declined his invitation to join him, but stood by stiffly as he waited for Juliet.
"New to Hogwarts?" the man asked asked, swilling down the contents of a massive mug. A quarter of it landed on his lilac underrobe.
Artemis nodded cautiously, and made as to move out of the room. The strange man snatched his arms, unwilling to lose his target of unconversationial blathering.
Juliet, who had come back down the stairs at that exact moment, sprinted towards him, knocking over tables and people alike in her rush to save Artemis. Mayhem spread from her like the limbs through the air as she mowed a path through tavern patrons, beer seeping into the already soaking shirts of the men. Artemis' leech appeared not to notice.
When Juliet reached them the man appeared delighted, although the wizard-to-be waved away the dagger, once hidden in her combat boots but now drawn questioningly into her hand. The man was hardly dangerous, unless one were allergic to obnoxious smiles.
"I'm workin' there this year, don't ya know," he drawled on, squeezing Artemis' arm most painfully. "Name's Lockhart. Professor Lockhart." His eyes kept going crossed.
The boy disentangled himself from the man's fingers, quite aware that Juliet was laughing at him beneath her breath, and left before the impertinent man could make some other dull-witted comment. Strange man. Dressed in lilac and talked to Muggle strangers. Still, he had to have been drunk, his glass being a forty-two ounce schooner and it just drained with a final drenching. He began to have his first doubts about the quality of teachers at Hogwarts.Artemis paused uncertainly before the pitted and scarred door. Once he opened it there was no going back. As soon as he saw the wonders of Diagon, his schemes would forever be tainted by magical means, the world less simple.
On the other hand, the patrons Juliet had disrupted were sending evil looks their way, some of the shadier ones edging their way towards them. Wands that had seen better days—and more even fights—were firmly clenched in a dozen hands.
He opened the door hurridly.
Before him was a brick wall. A plain, ordinary brick wall. There was even a trash heap to one side and a cat squatting over it, yowling its black head off.
"What a letdown," Juliet said humorlessly. She had been almost as eager as Artemis to see Diagon.
Artemis ignored her, although he silently agreed with the statement. What was the secret of the bricks? This had to be the real entrance: He had forgotten the brick passageway, the final test, in his excitement.
The answer came to him swiftly, and he tapped an elegant finger to a pattern. When he was done he stepped back, a slightly smug smile on his face.
Nothing happened.
"Well?" Juliet asked, tapping her foot again. Artemis gave her an annoyed glance and tapped out the pattern again.
The bricks began to move this time, almost grudgingly. They spun on their mortar foundations as if held together with pudding, shifting postion as they parted in the center. An arched doorway began to appear, and swiftly solidified.
The black cat gave a final, ear-splitting yowl before darting through the brick doorway.
"How did you know that would work?" Juliet demanded, walking through the portal.
Artemis' smile resembled Morgan Le Fay's when she stole Excalibur. "The wear-pattern on the bricks, combined with the pattern of holes on The Leaky Cauldron's sign. I suspect the reason why I had to do it a second time was because I did not have a wand."
Whatever breath Juliet had drawn for a reponse was stolen by the sight before them.
Diagon was full of things that he had only read in fantastical books as a child. Stalls lined the narrow street, some extensions of the spindly street-side shops and others completely independent. Happily bartering people were crowded along olde-world shops, arguing vigorously with the plots' proprietors for the universal Better Deal. Signs blurred through age shook gently with the vibrations from footsteps, and above them the sky was a narrow slit, the buildings made even more slender by the fact they leaned forward nearly five feet on either side. So busy looking about them, they didn't even noticed as they were picked up by the river-like crowd and were deposited at a street corner.
However, it was hard to be lost for long in a magical world. After several minutes of browsing through some of the vendors' merchandise—and weighing in the thousands of plots spinning in his head—Artemis led Juliet towards the huge marble building at the opposite street corner.
"Gringotts," Artemis murmured to himself as he reached the bottom of the open-air stairs, recalling the map. "Aurum est Potestas."
Several people, obviously with nothing better to do, stopped and stared at the young boy looking at the structure with something between intense concentration and a smile of cunning obvious on his pale features. Before they could be hooked in by whatever excuse for a police force they had here, Artemis began trudging up the steps.
On the door, an inscription spread over the arched frame read:
"Enter, stranger, but take heed,
Of awaits the Sin of Greed.
For those who take but do not earn,
Must pay dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors,
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, Beware
Of finding more then treasure there."
"Don't even think about it," Juliet warned, giving him a slight push through the entryway into a massive white-marble room. "I don't want a bad reputation here. Some people would actually liketo have a social life, and be able to get a date." She winked slyly at a passing young man, who continued on looking vaguely confused.
Artemis's vampiric smile faded at that magical word, 'date'. Sometimes he could barely believe that the stalwart Butler was even related to her.
They quickly made their way through the somewhat thinner crowds to a desk with a wrinkled thing. A gnome, perhaps, of the Wizard variety? He turned his thoughts towards the Gringotts entry in his LEP files. Intelligent, impeccable, and highly moral, thus prone to turn down bribes; very unlike the Lower Element's version. Not good odds to start planning a bank robbery with.
The thing, which resembled a shriveled prune in a tuxedo, glared at him when they reached his desk. "Well?" it asked impatiently, squinting at them through antiquated bifocals. "Where is your key?" "I'd like to make a deposit in Muggle currency; pounds," he replied coolly, standing on a niche in the desk to get himself up at eye level. Juliet sniggered. "Five-hundred thousand pounds."
When the gnome didn't even blink at the amount, he was surprised. So they weren't impressed by money. Of course, they could be barely anything else, being the keepers of most of the world's precious Galleons.
"Name?" it asked, seeming rushed like an exceptionally crabby secretary.
"Artemis Fowl the Second."
"Cash, or wired from an account?" it asked, still in the same hurried tones. Foaly was right about the electronics, at the very least.
Doubts somewhat erased from his mind, he asked casually, "So when can I have it?"
The gnome saw the speculative gleam in his eye. He said, in all seriousness a walking raisin could, "Now. And we'll get you if you try and trick us. We have your name, and we have our ways." It grinned in a way that made Juliet shudder. Butt-ugly and crooked brown teeth to match.
"Now?" Juliet asked, coming out from behind Artemis to lean on the gleaming white counter. "In gold Galleons?" She popped a bubble from her gum, causing Artemis to give her an annoyed glance. Butler would have been vastly preferable.
The thing stared back at her as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. For the gnome, it was. "Would you rather have it in a year on a silver platter with a bit of caviar and Darjeeling tea?"
"I prefer Earl Grey, actually," Artemis cut in smoothly before Juliet could make another exasperatingly obvious remark.
The gnome scowled, and disappeared into a doorway behind him for a few moments. When he reappeared, it was carrying two velvet-black bags, each fuller, if possible, then any of Juliet's suitcases.
Seeing how heavy it would be made him blanch. He needed Juliet to carry his purchases, not his money.
"Can you deposit all but a tenth of it in my name?" he asked, part of his mind imagining all the beautiful gold that must be in that sack. Aurum est Potestes.
"Do I look like your maid?" was its sarcastic response.
"It is your paycheck and your job to do so," Artemis replied coldly.
"Not to mention your certain lack of height," Juliet piped up.
The gnome scowled again at the vampiric heir, and vanished behind the pillars. His return brought an elegant velvet bag that clinked melodically of gold Galleons, and a small silver key. "Keep it safe" was its last words, called after them as Juliet half-danced out of the Bank. Even Artemis had a bit more spring to his step.
Shopping spree.
Hours later, as the last of the shoppers faded into busy inns of varied repute, Juliet staggered into their room with bags and packages hiding all but her brand new 'Elf Shoes' (Guaranteed to last a lifetime! Feet-warmer, air conditioning, arch support and de-odorizing, all in one!). Artemis followed with a thoughtful expression on his face, his long fingers fingering the lone bag, tasseled and black, that hung loosely on his waist. Newly bought robes, some of black and others that apparently matched his eyes (According to the hypocritically fashionable Juliet), were already hung up by his bed by the time he reached the threshold.
Juliet was scurrying about like a frenzied hummingbird on steroids, darting into the innumerable bags, retrieving odd items, and putting it in its own place, whether on the mantelpieces or by the stone wash-basin. Some small part of his mind briefly wondered what would happen if he offered her some caffeine. He decided he didn't want to know, if only because he would be the one paying the medical bill resulting.
Within a few minutes almost all the merchandise had been placed somewhere, including her brand-new deed to a house in Hogsmeade placed lovingly on the mantelpiece. She was close to being worth her hundred-grand paycheck, but not quite. Too social for his tastes.
He had his chosen list of supplies, and his rather criminal reason
All that he now required was a wand.
Plopping down into one downy bed, Artemis quickly faded into the realms of sleep, and recollections of the hectic day.
They were in a store swathed in shadow. Heavy, moth-infested drapes covered the door, making the already gloomy room seem dismal indeed. Knick-knacks long since covered over by a veritable glacier of dust occupied every free shelf space, and antiques in thinning glass cases sat, long-forgotten, in half-lit corners. Artemis and Juliet had already rummaged through most of the stores, looking for their goal. Juliet had just found it in the proprietor's personal office, and Artemis was trying in vain to make him separate from it.
"Ten Galleons," the black-clothed man rasped, "Take it or leave it." He reached out to caress the considerable money he had already swindled from him, long pale fingers stretching out like a spider stroking its prey. He had parted with an Invisibility Cloak and an authentic Egyptian Book of the Dead dearly, and this last treasure seemed doomed to remain his.
"Seven Galleons, and I shall not tell the Ministry about those eggs sitting on the fire." The man, whoever he was, was breeding dragons for the magical version of a black market. A black market that Artemis had plans for.
The stranger thought about it for a moment, and made an executive decision. Spitting into an outstretched hand, he said, "Deal."
They shook, and Artemis drew away from the handshake long before it was in the bounds of politeness to do so. Spit was disgusting, true, but he also did not know what sort of bond it would make in the magical world.
Coins and the slender volume exchanged hands, and the duo began to walk out of the shop into the relative comfort of Knock-Turn Alley.
Raving loony, Artemis thought as he drew out the green and silver book and opened to the first page. Reading whilst walking was a skill he had developed quickly, being as short on time as he was.
"The Calling
By Salazar Slytherin
This be'eth a book of the magick art of calling mythical beasts and Faeries to oneself, and to obtain their powers in thy form. Beware of holly and silver as you learneth these mystick powers, for these substances will twist thy spells and magicks into other formes that defy thy will. They be strange and fey, a magick that is neither easy nor simple for Man to learn."
Holly and silver… Green and silver. The colors on the cover of the book. The colors of Slytherin.
The fairy-computer prototype? Do you honestly think that Arty made it in the few emotionally charged weeks in-between tAI and tEC? Since any criminal genius would have a similar scheme running through his head when faced with the prospect of such technology, I decided that he was building a prototype before tAI. Which means (probably) right after the original AF.
There is a line being drawn between AF and HP magic. You have been forwarned.
Namárië,
Nallasariel the Weeper