Disclaimer: This is not mine, and it shall never be unless Colfer and Rowling get stupid and give up their copyright. But hey! you never know.
This and the next chapter—last chapter for a long time—are going to be catching up on all the other characters. Just thought I'd give you fair warning.
Oh, and I'm still open for revision suggestions.
And a reminder; if you have comments on this story, corrections, etc, they shall all be answered personally via e-mail. I hope that's an encouragement, since I'm getting precious few constructive criticisms or critiques. Please do not hesitate in giving them out! This story isn't going to get better unless you help!
Chapter Sixteen: Miscellania
Juliet's House
Hogsmeade
Is this what growing up is? Juliet wondered, eyeing her hot pink luggage piled by her room's door with growing distaste. Learning that everything you ever liked is just plain stupid?
Mary-Sue besides her looked at her in concern. "You mean you'd rather have green in the house then pink? And I can have my mauve living room?"
Juliet nodded tiredly, wondering what she was going to do about all her pink clothes and things. Although some of her things were a respectable green or blue, the majority of her things were pink. Hot pink, magenta, fuchsia, cherry pink, carnation, pale rose, coral, strawberry…
She shuddered openly, and Mary-Sue gave her a loose one-handed embrace. "What's wrong? Boy giving you trouble?"
Juliet withdrew from Mary-Sue and plopped down on her—fortunately—green bed. "No," she said wearily, letting herself sink onto her back, "it's nothing."
Mary-Sue, naïve as she was, knew a lie when she heard one. "What is it?" she asked again, sitting down on the bed besides Juliet.
Juliet remained silent, closing her eyes against the ceiling—painted a light carnation pink.
"Is it that Artemis fellow you were talking so much about?" Mary-Sue asked, crossing her arms. "Since if it is…" She strangled the air in front of her, making a show of throttling it with freshly moisturized hands tipped with glittering purple nails.
"No…" Juliet trailed off, opening her eyes again to gaze listlessly at the swirls of coral above her. "It's just that—that—"
"That what?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. Just leave."
Mary-Sue sounded shocked. Juliet had never acted like this before. "Juliet..."
"Just go!" she cried, opening her eyes to glare at Mary-Sue. "I need to be alone!"
"Yes, missus." Mary-Sue responded, picking herself up from the bed and tucking her lustrous gold curls behind her ear. "Just tell me if you need anything."
"I will." Juliet said softly as the door shut behind her roommate. "I just have to figure out my life."
Juliet wouldn't leave her suite for another four days. Poor Mary-Sue ended up having to cook for herself, which did not bode well with her stomach.
Faerie's Gambit
Forbidden Forest
Holly sighed, brushing back what hair had grown since leaving Haven. It had been another difficult day working towards the eventual capture of Artemis Fowl. Very little had been accomplished, except for the discovery of Juliet in Hogsmeade. Although this presented interesting possibilities, she would have to wait for Trouble to arrive before she could formulate any plans.
Where is that little swear-toad? Holly wondered, reaching for the berry-bucket on the shelf. He was supposed to get here hours ago.
It was a fair insult; Trouble Kelp had been told to rendezvous with her at dusk at Faerie's Gambit, where they would contact Foaly and Root to give a report on their actions and to receive new orders. He had agreed to search Hogwarts for Artemis' quarters today so Holly would rest her arm a bit and investigate Hogsmeade.
She had grudgingly agreed to take the easier of the two jobs; after Artemis had, ah, given them to the Whomping Willow, Holly's arm and the majority of her ribs had been broken. She had fixed as many of them as she could, but she had run out of magic before completely healing. Trouble had suffered little injury at the fronds of the Willow, and had managed to bring the very weak Holly back to Faerie's Gambit before the spiders came out at dusk. She had not been able to find a nearby oak tree at the bend in a river so she could be running hot again, and thus was not feeling too good. Pity she had already used her spare acorn for the trip.
Holly groaned as she tried to move her bound right arm, feeling her half-healed bones grind against one another despite the splint. Was this what Mud-men had to deal with every time they got hurt? She shouldn't be too quick to judge them in how much pain they could take.
I bet Artemis never broke a bone in his life. She thought grumpily to herself, pouring herself a cup of tea from the leaf-pot Trouble had fashioned. He always has Butler to take the bullets for him. Plus he never gets thrown from tenth-story windows. He is the thrower.
Smiling to herself at the thought of Artemis getting hurt for once, Holly curled up in the woven grass blanket and slept with firelight flickering across her angular face. Trouble would wake her once he arrived.
GryffindorTower
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Had Holly known what trouble Trouble had gotten himself into, she certainly wouldn't have called him a swear-toad. She would have called him something considerably worse.
At the moment Trouble was entertaining the notion of disregarding his orders not to reveal themselves to the students of Hogwarts and punch the sniveling owner of the toad croaking in his face. It had, after all, decided that the best place to hide from its master was also in Trouble's hiding place.
He was tucked under a set of drawers in the Gryffindor common room, curled as close to the wall as his elfin frame allowed. Fortunately for the pale-faced boy, it was dark enough that Trouble appeared only as a shadow, but at any moment one of the chubby hands could, instead of brushing the toad, touch him and break his cover.
In many ways, an open confrontation would be preferable to this. Trouble had been itching to wrap his hands around Artemis' scrawny neck every since that debilitating throw out the window, and for all he knew the boy calling out for his toad Trevor could be the object of his hand's desire.
Or not. Trouble thought dejectedly, hearing the tremble to the boy's voice. He's too stupid to be Fowl. He had, after all, at one point cried out for the toad to not bite him. Trouble was fairly certain Artemis knew enough of his biology to know that toads don't bite.
The toad leapt to the side when the boy's clammy hand shot in again, narrowly missing Trouble's unhelmeted head in the cramped space. Trouble began regretting his smart idea of spying on the students even more then ever as his heart jumped. Having a heart attack before Root would be a cruel fate indeed.
"Trevor, just come out!" the boy called, his hand darting under the drawers. His fingers touched Trevor, and tightened around its legs for a moment. The toad, giving an indignant ribbit, lurched forward and freed himself of the hand.
"Need help, Neville?" a voice asked from by the boy, somewhat laughingly.
The boy got off his knees and stood up so only the hem of his black robes and untied shoes could be seen. "Ha—Harry! Ron! I thought you'd be in the common room!"
Another voice laughed, and two pairs of feet walked in front of the dresser. Trouble gulped at the thought of facing three Wizards, there being limits to how gung-ho he was. "Hermione kept pestering us about practicing for Transfiguration more, so we came up here."
The first voice continued. "She said something about looking for her book too, didn't she?"
The pale boy—Neville?—stepped closer to the drawers. "Trevor's beneath this. I can't get him out, and he's been down there all day!" His voice quavered slightly.
"Have you tried moving the dresser?" the second voice asked.
He started getting on his knees, but was stopped when the first voice interrupted. "Have you tried luring him out with food?"
There was a rustling of cloth as the two new boys stepped on either side of the dresser. Neville must have nodded "Well, then we should move it. Neville, you grab Trevor after we lift it up."
Trouble groaned to himself, and curled up in a ball so he could jump up better. There was nothing he could do.
With twin groans the dresser lifted nearly two feet in the air, and Neville lunged down to grab the toad.
Trouble caught a glimpse of widening eyes, and cursed again before lunging out to tackle the boy. He shouldn't have wasted all his magic on his own little scratches and bruises from the Willow.
"Harr—" Neville started, but was silenced as Trouble knocked him out with a swift punch to the forehead. Leaping up, Trouble spun around to face the two boys.
The dresser fell with a clang as the two boys stared at him, but, fortunately for Trouble, one leg of it landed on the red-head's foot.
Falling into a series of foul curses, the red-head threw himself back onto one of the beds lining the dormitory, followed swiftly by the black-haired boy as Trouble shoved him towards the yowling red-head. Trouble, thinking quickly, ripped one of the curtains from another bed and threw the heavy red velvet onto the struggling figures. So far so good.
Trouble looked around quickly, looking for a way out. The dormitory was too high in the air to jump from a window, and the walls too steep to safely climb. The only option was the door from whence he came.
Trouble dived for the ajar door, crashing through the students milling around for the source of the noise and half-ran, half-tripped his way down the stairs. The door of his entry, half-hidden beneath the stairs, was only a few steps away…
"Peskipiksi Pesternomi!" a shrill voice cried, and Trouble found himself frozen, unable to move as someone came from behind and caught him as he fell. He fought in vain against the clutches of the spell, trying to keep himself from being dragged away.
Trouble found himself looking down at the plush red carpet, unable to see where he was going. Turning towards his other senses, Trouble could hear the pounding of feet as people ran up—stairs?—and innumerable questions from somewhere to the right and above.
The flooring abruptly changed from red carpeting to hardwood floor as the Mud-Man continued to drag him, his rigid body dragging on the floor. Distantly he heard a door slide shut, and the sound of heavy breathing from the Mud-Man dragging him. Struggling to move his eyes, Trouble could see by his peripheral vision the steady moving feet, and above that stockinged legs. Not a Mud-Man, but a Mud-Maid.
Trouble tried to move his fingers again through the haze of tumbling thoughts, and was rewarded with a faint twitch from his thumb. Keep at it, keep at it…
The dragging stopped abruptly, and Trouble saw two hands—girl hands—grab him by the shoulder and prop him against the nearby wall.
He was in the same passageway he used to get into the Gryffindor Tower, a seemingly endless spiral upwards and downwards with the occasional door branching into more passageways and, eventually, the upper-level prefect's rooms.
Not that Trouble would know any of this. He was too busy trying to free up his limbs.
The girl before him brushed back her bushy brown hair from her face and tapped her glowing wand to the door before her. "Alohamora."
Had Trouble been in control of his facial muscles he would have gasped. Even the narrow sliver he could see through the door showed portraits—hundreds upon hundreds of portraits.
The girl turned to him and, grasping him by the shoulders again, dragged him through the doorway, breathing heavily.
The door shut behind them, and the girl leaned him up against a painting of a lavish study. "Promise not to run away?"
Trouble, not being able to shake his head, made no response.
The girl shook her head, muttering to herself about a book or something, and tapped her glowing wand to his chest.
Warmth blossomed from the wand-tip, freeing muscles as it spread through his limbs. Shuddering slightly from the slimy feel of Mud-Man magic, Trouble eyed the girl before him.
The girl looked at him right back, speculation creasing her brow. "What do you want of us?"
Trouble narrowed his eyes, bending his knees to spring. "What's it to you?"
"My life." She responded in turn, raising her wand threateningly and backing up when she saw the set line to his jaw.
Trouble's eyes, if possible, narrowed even further. Holly had mentioned something about having a spy in Hogwarts. Could this Mud-Maid be trusted?
Seeing he wasn't about to talk, the girl continued. "I'm Hermione Granger. I'm not going to tell anyone about you, if that's what you're worried about."
"Do—" He hesitated, weighing the possibilities. She had a wand. He didn't.
"Do I know McGonagall?" she finished, and smiled at his befuddled expression. "She's my teacher. I know about her being an Animagus and all, and that there's a trace magic in her. It wasn't from anything standard, and it was like a pixies'. Since you look similar to one—" She gestured towards his pointed ears and angular face, "—I figured you came back for her or something."
Trouble took a gamble. One that he would later regret. "Do you know Artemis Fowl?"
Hermione's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Tell me everything."
I KNOW THIS WAS CONFUSING. Just to get it straight with you guys. Questions about that entire last section shall be addressed next chapter, so please don't bug me about it in the review. Yes, it is something that shall make sense. Please trust me on this.
I hope the first bit explained why I made Juliet so OOC earlier. She's growing up quite a bit, since I noticed that between the first book and the third she was more mature.
Please, PLEASE don't bug me about the portrait room/Trouble's trust/Hermione's actions/why the Pixie spell worked until next chapter! I swear upon all I hold dear that it'll make sense next Tuesday, when I post the next chapter. Please!
Namárië,
Nallasariel the Weeper