Disclaimer: Stop thinking this is MY story! If you are reading this, why do you even bother? Just curious.
Author's Notes: I beg of you, don't kill me because of what House I place Artemis in. Yes, it is finally going to happen, but don't kill me. Please. Not that you could, of course, but it isn't very nice to go around trying to slay innocent writers. Oh, and sorry for the length. It was a lot longer on my first draft, which would have been another few pages (Mostly more Butler and Holly riffraff, as well as a bit more of Artemis. You'll see it next chapter.)
Chapter Seven: The Sorting Hat
!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!
He was beaten. The first time in years, since….never. He had never lost, but now he was second best. It rang through his mind like a peal of thunder, half of him refusing to register the fact. He had been beaten.
He shuddered, following McGonagall down the long stone corridors. After breaking the news to him, she had swept out of the Transfiguration classroom, and had beckoned him to follow.
"Now, Mister Fowl, since you decided to take the exams early" He winced noticeably. "You have five days until the rest of the students arrive. You may stay in the Gryffindor Common Room if you so wish, but just stay out of our way. We Professors have much to do to prepare for the coming year." She looked back at him to make sure he was paying attention. "The Library can be wandered in freely, since Madame Pince's quarters are right off the Library Wing itself, and no doubt she'll enjoy a bit of company." McGonagall's eyes got an odd gleam to them, one that Artemis didn't find comforting at all.
"I think I will be by the Library most of the time, Professor." He said, making up his mind. Although it wasn't as private, perhaps he could get some answers about some very important questions.
McGonagall nodded, and swept up in front of a portrait of what appeared to be a very obese lady in a poorly fitting dress.
"Password?" She said, gesturing at them with a plump arm.
"Wattlebird." The Professor said. Then, looking at Artemis again, she said, "You can remember that, correct? Because that's your ticket into here. Without it, you'll be sleeping out in the hallways."
Artemis gave the barest hint of a nod, and stepped through the doorway that the swinging picture made. Hallways had no privacy for criminal activities.
"I'll leave you here until supper time comes. A House Elf shall be along then with your meals, and you may do what you will until then." With that, the Professor turned around, and left the way she came.
"Are you going in or out?" The Fat lady said impatiently. "I won't stand here like this forever, you know."
Artemis hurried in before he could get his fingers snapped off.
Inside was a room of all scarlets and warm yellows, with a roaring fire that only added to the aura of comfort. Huge, comfortable chars were scattered all around the room, just begging to be sat in. Tables, hanging low from what must have been many heavy loads of books and homework over the years, were spread around the fuzzy red carpet. Two staircases leading to separate hallways were on each side of the fireplace.
Which one led to his room? In general, the door to the men's room was on the left. So…
He experimentally tried to go up the one on the left, and the stairs turned into a slide. Of course, that was in the 'Muggle' world.
This time, he went on the one to the right, and was met by similar results.
He backed off slowly from the stairs, trying to puzzle this out. Why wasn't the staircase letting him into either of the dormitories? McGonagall would have told him of anything he had to do…
He straightened his back, and called out, "Holly, I know you're there. Come out where I can see you."
True to his suspicions, the air in front of him shimmered for a few moments, and Holly appeared, wearing the smug smile of victory on her face.
Holly smoothed back a few stray locks of her hair. Apparently, she hadn't gotten her buzz-cut for a while. "One question, Mud-Boy."
Artemis shrugged, bringing his hand closer to his waist. "Fire away."
Holly stepped forward, her hands on her hips in a most akimbo fashion. "How did you know I was here?" she asked, her grin spreading across her face. He didn't have a lot of time.
Artemis shrugged again, an oddly out-of-character move that made Holly frown a bit. "One: You and McGonagall were talking earlier in a most friendly fashion, so you must have known each other before." He looked sharply at the short fairy. "Correct?"
She nodded curtly, and beckoned for him to continue with a casual wave. "So, it was a simple step to assume you would plot something to happen to me in her own dormitories. As soon as the staircases refused to let me up to provide access to my luggage, I knew."
Holly bared her teeth, beckoning to the shadows. "Any other confessions, Mud Boy?" Another fairy, with a most outrageous swagger, walked up to Holly's side.
"Say the word, Holly, and he's out." He said, cocking a very nasty looking gun.
"It's Captain Short to you, Trubs!" Holly seethed. 'Trub's' face reddened slightly.
Artemis allowed himself the luxury of a grin. "You have no working weapon against me, Captain. That was your mistake."
Holly's eyes widened as she realized the grievous miscalculation in her plan. "Get down, get down!" She yelled, shoving Trubs into an overly large recliner.
It was perhaps a minute too late to fix her mistake; Artemis' wand was out and ready to fire any number of annoying spells, as well as several in a significantly higher category then 'annoying'.
"Two: The carpet had the imprints of both of your weights visibly denting the surface." A bolt of blue shot at slightly stunned Trubs, sending him hurtling into yet another poofy chair.
"Three: There was a slight shimmer in the air." Yet another stream of magic zapped Trubs right in the chest, knocking him out cold.
"Now, see here Mud Boy!" Holly said angrily, readying her fist for one of her rather painful punches.
Artemis tsked. "Temper, temper, Holly." He pointed his wand, and a river of azure fire flowed at Holly, sending her stumbling back several paces.
"Four: My invisibility cloak had somehow ended up draped on a chintz beanbag." Twin lightning streaks made Holly and Trouble fly into the air, struggling weakly. With another twist of his wand, he sent them hurtling out the open window and hopefully into the embrace of the Whomping Willow.
"Five: You left the window open!" he heaved, slamming the windows shut with another twist from his wand. Slightly tired from the ordeal, he sank down into a convenient chair.
A tall shadow separated itself from the wall, causing him to smile slightly. "Do step closer, McGonagall."
The silhouette drew closer to him, and the hem of an embroidered green robe swept into view. Finally, auburn hair only dusted with gray came into the light. McGonagall, if anything, looked pleased.
"Well done, Mr. Fowl, but was giving them to the Whomping Willow truly necessary?"
He smoothed his ebony hair, slightly damp with sweat, from his forehead. "I assure you, it is. They were trying to kill me." He smiled coldly. "At your order, no doubt."
To his surprise, McGonagall threw back her head, and laughed. When the chortles subsided, she looked at Artemis again. "Really, do you think I would try and kill my own student? Especially one who had nearly beaten Granger?"
"Emphasis on the word 'try'." He said bitterly.
She shook her head, still amused. "I thought you would have guessed by now, Fowl. I honestly did. You disappoint me. Granger figured it out quick enough, although she has kept it secret for goodness knows how long."
He was at a loss. He thought he had it all figured out… His forehead creased in concentration, and lifted again. For the very first time in his life, he spoke those dreaded words: "I don't know."
She smiled. "Really, Mr. Fowl. I think you do."
Frustrated, he cried out, "Well, I don't!"
Slowly, painstakingly, she lifted up her wand, and pointed it at herself. "Nyphonstro." She whispered. For a moment, blue light flickered around her figure, and then faded back down. Everywhere around her, a dull golden glow shone, reflecting like mirrors in her eyes.
"That's very interesting." Artemis said, annoyed that he still couldn't figure out this problem. Why, why wasn't his brain solving this puzzle? "But what does it have to do with the Fairies?"
She smiled again, a sad smile. "I owe them a life-debt, Artemis. It goes through the bonds of loyalty to the country and your race. If they asked me to kill you now, I would be forced to do it. If they told me to kill myself with this—" She held up her wand to her face. It sparked golden fires, reflecting in her eyes. "I would have to." She looked sharply at Artemis. "Do you understand now?"
His mind raced, going through the pages of The Calling that he had read. "But, the only thing that can create that sort of debt—"
"Is by them saving my life. Yes, Mr. Fowl, they saved me. I was near dead after trying to transform into an Animagus, and I would have undoubtedly joined the ranks of the dead of not for them." She glanced at her body, still glowing a dusky gold. "That is their magic, within me until I die."
He frowned. "The Fairy-magic I saw was blue."
She laughed again, almost bitterly. "That was for elves, you fool."--His scowl deepened--"A sprite's magic, what precious little they have, is gold."
He nodded, finally understanding. "So, you shall not kill me?"
"No. I shall not harm you in any way, and I cannot. Dumbledore's orders somehow overwrite the fairies', so you are free to do what you will. I recommend the library, personally. Madame Pince enjoys visitors."
He was about to interrupt, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand. "The library is down the hallway, then take to rights, go down the staircase two times, four lefts, and then two rights."
He shook his head. "No, no no. I would like to have access to my things, as well as if Holly shall be bothering me again."
She moved towards the door, preparing to leave for the second time that day. "The stairs were stopped by Holly and Trouble. I cannot promise safety from anyone in Hogwarts, however, not even from myself." She accompanied this with a ghastly smile rivaling his. He'd better practice that too; can't have anymore second places. With another dramatic swirl from her green and black robes, she left through the gaping portrait-hole.
He turned towards the stairs, picking up his Invisibility Cloak as he went. Then, he started up the left-hand stairs. It let him up without a protest. He knew it was that one.
!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!
The journey to the library, The Calling in hand, was uneventful. The same should have been said in getting through the doors.
"For the last time, my name is Artemis Fowl, I am quite sure that I am not early to this school year, and that I am most certainly not a ghost." He said, exasperated. This had been going on for nearly an hour, and Madame Pince still wouldn't let him through.
Madame Pince looked well enough. Her hair was piled up in a no-sass bun of silver, and her brown eyes were sharper then McGonagall's tongue. She wore an impeccable robe of black, with an inner one of sea-gray. Old as she was, she missed nothing. He would have a hard time with criminal activities with the likes of her and McGonagall around.
She prodded Artemis for the hundredth time, checking to see if he was indeed solid. "Well." She said grudgingly. "I guess you can enter."
A victorious grin passed over his features. All those books, just sitting there, waiting to be read….
"But NO going into the Restricted Section without permission from a teacher, unless you want to feel what it's like to have a forty-pound tome smacking you in the noggin."
The smile did not disappear. There was always a loophole in the rules, always a way of getting around the obvious. You just had to be clever enough to see it.
She peered at him again, still suspicious. "If I catch one book out of place…."
He went through the door at a hurried pace, not wanting to be the victim of yet another lecture.
The Fowl library was once considered one of the best in the world. After all, what was a criminal empire without the knowledge to back it up? Now, it had all been auctioned off at obscenely high prices and replaced with a digital one. It spanned everything from Aardvark tongues to the value of a Zulu shield on the black market. But, it would be very hard pressed to beat the one before him now.
Books, double-stacked on shelves that soared up to the pinnacle of the thirty-foot ceiling, were everywhere. Thanks to Madame Pince's undoubtedly articulate cleaning method, the only dust was on the books in the distant Restricted Section, probably more for looks then anything.
Sighing happily, he plopped down in one of the overly plump Victorian chairs (After checking to make sure it was genuine, of course), and opened The Calling:
"Those of Magick Blood haveth much natural inborne power, whether exploited or not. Most of them have no knowledge of muche of this power, or no knowledge of its full extente. Indeed, I myself haveth takenth the blood of a willing Faerie, and thus madeth myself greater in power…"
!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!
Juliet stared, distraught, at the interior of the house. It was peeling nasty gray paint chips all over the floor, and the carpet had long since been stained to a gray-brown coated with a thick layer of dust. Tattered curtains the color of cloudy skies were ripped into almost nonexistence, the process only being quickened by Juliet's frolicking cats.
Mary Sue, at her side, turned a deathly white. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she executed a perfect (Albeit much practiced) faint, landing elegantly on top of her suitcase. Her pet rabbit, rather appropriately named 'Fluffy', whimpered when Juliet's twin cats saw that its protectress had swooned.
Juliet wagged her finger at the leader of the two cats, a girl. "Now now, Artemis, be nice to the bunny." She turned to its twin, who had been trying to sneak around her to get at the trembling rabbit. "You too, Apollo."
Mary got up after several moments, heaving dramatically. "Well, that gave me a bit of a shock." She said, brushing her hair back behind her ears. It looked as if it had just been brushed to perfection.
Juliet rolled her eyes. "I bet it did."
Mary looked around, probably for the first real time. Her hands akimbo, she said, "We'll have to fix this room up. How about purple? A nice, gentle lavender. You know, to match my eyes?"
Juliet frowned a bit. "What about green, to match mine?"
Mary clenched her fists. "I am the more beautiful, so it goes by what I say, and that's purple!"
Juliet looked at her fists in alarm. "That's not how you punch!" she exclaimed, looking at Mary with shock. "Like this." She clenched her own fists, whitening the knuckles.
Mary cocked an eyebrow. "And what does that have to do with the new paint job for this room?"
"Nothing at all. But you can't expect to get into fights and actually win if you punch like a girlie." Juliet retorted, correcting Mary's fist.
Mary, somewhat riled, snapped, "First of all, I am a girl. Second of all, I don't get into fights. Thirdly, if I do get into a fight, I barely last until some handsome masked man miraculously enters just when the evil-doer knocks my sword out of my hand, he slays my antagonist, falls madly in love with me, and whisks me off to his fair kingdom where we get married and live happily ever after."
Juliet shook her head. "Well, lets assume there will be no 'masked man'. If you want to win a fight, here's what you do…."
And so it was that Mary Sue learned karate, Butler-style.
!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!
Foaly was not pleased. Not only had he lost contact with Holly and Trouble, but he ran out of carrot cake.
He stared at the empty platter forlornly. There! A few crumbs! Faster then Mulch's hand, he picked up the platter, and shook the few remaining bits of the 'missing' cake into his gaping mouth. Carrot cake…..
Within seconds, it was all gone. Crumbs and all. Even something that tasted suspiciously like a goober…
"Foaly? Foaly! D'arvit Foaly, can you read me?" Static erupted from one of his many consoles, tinny and desperate sounding.
He nearly knocked the carrot-cake platter over in his hurry to reach his chair. "Yes, I read you. Over."
More static, a bit clearer, sounded through Ops at a decibel level that rivaled a jet plane taking off. "D'ARVIT FOALY, WHERE DID YOU HIDE MY FUNGUS CIGARS!" Wait, that was Root.
You see, he had decided to 'borrow' Root's fungus cigars, to see if he could find an excuse to ban Root from them. Not only were they extremely smelly and the computers seemed to dislike them, he just wanted to alleviate the boredom. And anyways, what was the fun of being an annoyance if the number-one person on the list was dead from cancer?
So, of course, he had hid it in the most unlikely of places: Root's desk.
Most of the extensive tests that were done had ruled a negative on harmful side-effects. But he wasn't done with them yet. And it would be highly amusing to watch Julius turn the whole place over looking for them.
"Foaly, D'arvit, I NEED YOU!" The static-y voice cried. The monitor flashed to life; it was Holly, in some unidentified location.
He grinned from ear to pointy ear. "Holly! What a pleasant surprise! How was Artemis, pray tell?
Holly, her image fuzzy enough already, seemed to turn red with anger. She'd be rivaling Beetroot next. "D'ARVIT FOALY, I DON"T HAVE TIME FOR THIS! I DID NOT SPEND AN HOUR TRYIN TO ESCAPE FROM A D'ARVIT WILLOW THAT WAS TRYING TO MAKE ME INTO A CARROT CAKE TO LISTEN TO THIS!"
"Carrot cake?" he asked. She had his attention now.
"FOALY, YOU INSUFFERABLE CENTAUR! I JUST GOT THE SPARKS BEAT OUT OF ME BY FOWL! MINERVA DOUBLE-CROSSED US, AND DUMBLEDORE KNOWS WE'RE HERE! ARTEMIS HAS DISCOVERED THE CALL—" Her call was cut off abruptly, by what, he could not say. It wasn't like Captain Holly Short to cut off in mid-insult. He should know, after all. And it took a lot to keep her from speaking her mind….
"FOALY! I KNOW YOU TOOK THEM!" Root shouted, a livid purple outside his window. Didn't he know that there was more important then his addiction to those vile cigars? He closed it with a deft click on the keyboard, and put on the sound dampeners. He had too much to think about.
He frowned. If she was at Hogwarts, how did the call get to him? How had Minerva, tied to them by a life-debt, betrayed them? What was Dumbledore planning? How did Artemis get a hold of The Calling, the only other Book out there?
More importantly, how was he going to get more carrot cake with Root outside his door?
He needed some carrot cake bad.
!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!
The days passed swiftly for Artemis Fowl the second, too swiftly for him. Although he couldn't wait for the school year to start, he still had many questions, questions that, if left unanswered, would probably come back and be his ultimate undoing.
He had read a lot, probably more then most read in their entire lifetimes. Hundreds of books had fallen before the glow of the candles, gobbled up and stored within his ever-increasing mind. Spells and hexes galore, so he'd never have to worry about some ruffian in the hallway. Detailed schematics of the school, many of which probably should have been in the Restricted Section. Information of his past.
What little there was, was quite vague. Snippets, and small hints of some even grander past, for the most part. Mentions of Lord Hugo de Fóle's criminal exploits, mostly in the realm of Fairy Folk exploitation. Like great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, like great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson. Hints at ancient powers unearthed for the sake of gold, of feuds tracing back to the early ages of Fowl-dom. So that was why everyone was staring at him. It was the reputation that the Fowl name had built up over the years, not the fact that he had only robbed everyone from the Fairies to the President of the United States.
Now, however, his future was mere inches away. He was waiting in the classic Juliet manner: tapping his foot impatiently. McGonagall, who had been obviously avoiding him for all these days, was waiting besides him on the landing of the opening stairs, outside. The First Years, who could have been described as 'bright eyed and bushy-tailed', if not for the fact that they were not squirrels (Although they chattered like them), were half-running to keep up with the giant-man he had seen at Diagon Alley as he paced up the steps with huge strides. After several long moments, they had reached them, and she opened the door for them to enter Hogwarts. He joined the general mob, much to his distaste, and waited for McGonagall to explain matters at Hogwarts.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you shall be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, during your stay here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time within your House common room.
"The four Houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you." Long as the speech was, she did not seem at all winded, on the contrary. She was as cool as ever. With a dramatic swirl from her cape—How did she get it to do that?—she left to far greater company.
The students, most of them only a tad shorter then he was, started murmuring in a most Juliet-like fashion. He paid no attention; rather, he spent his time making his hair was neat. Bad impressions were the bane of any criminal mastermind. That, and lollipops.
An eternity of whispering passed before the doors opened again. The Professor swept in front of them again, her hazel eyes shooting sparks. "You may enter now." She pointed to the cold stone interior, and enter they did. For a moment, a shadow seemed to fall across his back, brushing lightly against neck. As quickly and mysteriously as it had come, it left. He shook his head. Now was not the time to be getting jitters. Those were for induhviduals, as he called them, and blondes. For those in both categories, they should probably be quarantined.
Within a few moments of entering the corridor, they were out again. Artemis suppressed the instinct to rub his eyes against the light. Candles, at least several hundred, were floating in mid air, illuminating a massive hall that rivaled Fowl Manor in sheer size. Four tables stretched nearly the full length of the room, lined with chatting students. At the head of the hall, another table, smaller, but somewhat elevated, stood. Teachers, some very short, some very crabby, and one most probably dead, were seated, with varying expressions of favor or distaste.
They walked down the gap between two of the House tables, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. The ceaseless chatter quieted a bit when they reached the end of the hall, but most certainly did not stop.
McGonagall stood in front of them, on the teacher's platform by a stool, holding the battered Sorting Hat. Reading from a lengthy scroll, she read, "Allan, Jessica."
A girl to his right, shaking like a leaf in a gale, slowly walked up to the chair, and sat on it. McGonagall lowered the hat onto her, and…
"RAVENCLAW!" the hat roared. The Ravenclaw table, bedecked in bronze and blue, burst out in cheers. Jessica, looking extremely relieved, trotted up to that table with a broad grin on her face.
"Fowl, Artemis."
The room, once thought impossible to quiet down, did quiet down to whispers. With a small, vampiric grin on his face, Artemis stepped up to the stool, and sat down. The hat slowly lowered onto his head.
Ah, yes, Artemis Fowl. It whispered. I haven't had one of you for a very long time. But which House? Plenty of brains, that's apparent. Perhaps Ravenclaw? Guts, you have courage, that's for sure, hmmm. What's this? No morality?
He nodded mutely. He was a criminal, after all.
Hmmm, not terribly kindhearted, not Hufflepuff. Let's see…
"RAVENCLAW!" It roared.
Artemis, if possible, turned whiter. Ravenclaw? He thought--He thought he would get Slytherin! What about the Green and Silver?
Ravenclaw's where you belong, Fowl. Like it or not. You'll see.
The hat was lifted off his head, and he numbly walked down to the bellowing Ravenclaw table. Ravenclaw?.............
~~~~~~~~!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
MUAHAHAHA! I bet you weren't expecting THAT! I'll quote my favorite quote again, just to make sure you understand…. "Couldn't resist, mate."~~ 'Captain' Jack Sparrow, 'Pirates of the Caribbean'. Savvy?
Of other important revelations made this chapter: I know they don't make much sense. That's because those aspects of the story are sort of like mini-mysterys and mini-plots. I am weaving a web, and it's up to YOU to untangle yourself. McGonagall's relationship to the Fairies is, well, odd. It is better explained later (A few chapters later, maybe even near the end.)
Alas, Foaly is REALLY OOC {Out of Character}. Sorry. Refer to the above quote.
Namarië,
*`~Nallasariel the Weeper