Life is annoying. It gets in the way of updating.

Ah, and the more picky of you will notice that I switched the fandom. It'll be oscillating, just because it does have Harry Potter stuff in it as well (However hard that is to believe.)

No triple-update. I've been terribly irresponsible – I am now a full-fledged fanatic for Lunalelle's Hermione-Voldemort fics A Dangerous Game and Abyss, which are a lot better than they sound. I highly recommend them; hard to beat something that quotes Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, right?

No, the three-quarters of the chapter is not stalling. Techy El Nerd may be slightly happy since I have now shown the reason why Juliet has been increasingly OOC lately.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Tiramisu

Juliet looked at the man on the coach warily, trying to decide what to do next. After looking up the appropriate spell, she had healed the saber wound Mary had inflicted, although it took five tries and a partial sponge bath to get the level-five acid off of him from the failed attempts. At the moment, he snored off a Sleeping Charm that would probably wear off within minutes, by Mary's enunciated insult about her wand-waving abilities.

She looked him over again, as if just to check if he was not just a particularly diminutive human. After the unsealed helmet had been removed—she personally suspected Fairy technology didn't work out here either, which made her grateful to be on even footing—it had been revealed that he had short-cropped brown hair, greenish-brownish eyes that remained open after unconsciousness, and that he drooled while he snored.

She absently leaned over and wiped his face with a moist towel, fiddling with her now combed and braided hair. She was considerably calmer, now that she had sent an owl to Artemis and Mary-Sue had been sent off the Three Broomsticks to make her excuses. She knew she should be checking the perimeter again, but she was increasingly paranoid about her lack of spell-casting ability, and how it would affect her prisoner.

Juliet checked the arms and legs again, just to make sure they were tied. After tentatively checking to make sure there was a layer beneath, she had taken off the sleek LEPrecon jumpsuit and threw it in a corner for later delivery to Artemis. As a result, 'Trouble' Kelp—she was positive she translated that wrong—was completely devoid of any weapons besides rather small fists. Oh, and a barbed tongue. In her limited experience, the smaller the person the wilier the words.

She checked the clock, twirling her braid again. Six in the morning. No reply from Artemis. Mister Trouble was not awake. Mary-Sue was at work—presumably—and wouldn't be easy to dissuade from waitress-mode. Butler was hundreds of miles away. Mummy and Daddy were probably training for a marathon in Arabia. Ko was thoroughly enjoying ruining another recruit's ego.

And she was here, watching the drool trickle down Santa's little helper's chin. She almost missed the days where she would whine at Artemis that he should eat the caviar before it went bad. Almost – then, she wasn't given pay just in case the worst did indeed happen.

So what if she wouldn't be around to enjoy the pay? Up in Heaven, or Paradise or whatever the truth managed to be, she would see dear Dommie spending some five million dollars in compensation on new toys. What could be more delightful than that?

A lot of things, she thought grumpily to herself, now unbraiding her hair. A new roommate would be especially nice. Now that she had been given ample time to think things over—two months is more than enough, even for a teenager—she had decided Mary-Sue was really just a git. Honestly, purple contacts?

She stared at Trouble moodily, rebraiding now in a herringbone pattern Mary had taught her. Mary-Sue was unquestionably vain. That had been fine back in September, since she had been so too. Now, she was different—still a bit vain, but she could see it, like a little infant could see an ant hill. Problem was, she couldn't crawl out of the carriage and squish it. It would cause such a fuss.

Trouble stirred, the thin tendril of drool getting larger as his mouth open. "Ughhhh," he moaned, his eyelashes fluttering like moths with their wings partially hacked off.

Juliet leapt forward, wiping the drool off his chin before it could drop onto Mary's plush lavender duvet. "My name is Juliet Alexandria Butler. You, my little munchkin-man, are in my custody."

She remembered that she wasn't supposed to give away her name, in case he did escape. I need to go back to Ko's… she thought, surprising herself with the longing quality. She never thought she would like hard-core conditioning more than pestering people.

Trouble's eyes closed. She could almost see the thoughts running through his mind: D'Arvit. Caught by a girly. What will Mummy say?

She was wrong, in that respect. His thoughts were more like something from a rap song that even hard-core fans of Eminem would flinch at.

"Do you know what you're doing, Mud Maid?" he asked, almost quietly.

Juliet was surprised; Artemis had said that the brown-haired one—now she remembered that his name was, indeed Trouble, and that he had written extensively about him—swore a lot, and was very cocky. "Er… yeah."

He smiled partially. Was he high or something? Juliet wondered. This wasn't anything like the last time she had imprisoned a Fairy. Holly was slamming her bed into the floor, for God's sake! "Did you know that a war's going to be declared about this?"

She blinked twice. "A war?" she asked stupidly, staring at him. He hadn't moved at all; in fact, he seemed to be unaware of the fact he was trussed up like a Christmas hog.

"Yep. And when Holly comes here, you'll be sorry. I think even your idiot Mud Master'll be mad."

She relaxed. Now she was on steady ground. "There, you're wrong. Last time we mailed each other he told me to hold any and all Fairies hostage until further notice. And you look like a Fairy to me."

He twisted his body so he was sitting up in the bed, making it look extremely easy in the process. Juliet scooted her chair back and gripped her wand. If he lunges, just say Stupefy and point, she reminded herself. "If you are Juliet Butler, then where is Fowl?"

She tensed, knowing the bomb shell was hovering over her head. "At Hogwarts," she replied confidently.

"Funny," he said airily, "because Holly now has him at Faerie's Gambit, waiting for LEPretrieval to take him down for a mind wipe."

"Funny," Juliet said, "because Artemis just sent me his reply."

It was true; a black owl swooped into Mary's room, entering from the violently green hallway, dropped a piece of parchment, and flew back out without waiting for a reply.

She caught the letter deftly, pointing the wand at Trouble just in case he decided to move. Still using only one-hand, she split the wax seal and unfurled it.

"Juliet—

If that idiot-of-a-blonde with the purple contacts is reading this, tell her that the cats are eating the rabbit down the street somewhere.

I have been the victim of another kidnapping, although it was obviously unsuccessful. However, this action had apparently given some politicians the excuse for war. After an… ah, discussion of this with McGonagall and Holly, they are convinced that this will elevate to a global scale and cause massive death counts on all three involved parties. Although this deed shall benefit me, I need you to do the following:

Get rid of Mary-Sue. I do not want her around as a distraction. Then, disguise yourself using your Russian alias we used last year and go to Fowl Manor. Make it look as if you were kidnapped. Take Muggle transportation—the Ministry and the Council will not check this as quickly—and go to Fowl Manor. Personally inform Butler of the situation, but not Madame Fowl—I do not want her involved. She must remain completely untainted.

Leave within the hour, and go to your parents. Do not attempt to contact me. Do not tell Butler where you are going. Do not leave any trace. I know you are not as foolish as you have been acting lately, Juliet. Do not act like an American teenager just because you dress like one. I know you are a Butler inside.

Oh, and Kelp: I understand you live next to the Shrieking Shack. No, there are no ghosts in it. However, I have discovered that there is a passage that leads from Hogwarts to it. Incapacitate Kelp, and, after tying him securely, leave immediately. I shall take care of him presently.

—Artemis Fowl the Second

Do not fail me."

Juliet almost let the letter fall, but she caught herself just in time. She quickly created some Bluebell Flames, and held the now-burning letter out in mid-air so it would not scorch her more than necessary.

Trouble looked at her. Juliet wondered for the umpteenth time if he was on something—he sounded absolutely nothing like the curtly outlined Trouble in Artemis' letter about the original attempt. "Don't kill me," he stated bluntly. His face betrayed no emotion.

Unexpectantly, Juliet found herself channeling her cocky, former self. "Okay." She drew back a slightly carbon-streaked hand, and let the blow fall.

Trouble didn't stand a chance against a Butler, however muddled her mind was at the present. He slumped backward, head clanging sharply on the light lavender wall before sliding down to the considerably softer bed.

She wasted no time. After snatching the edge of Mary's gauzy canopy, she ripped a long piece off of it. She gagged Trouble firmly, after making sure the purely aesthetic material was not as weak as it looked, and tossed him over her shoulder.

She was mildly surprised at the weight. Trouble weighed less than any single one of her suitcases.

Inspiration struck her at that thought. She raced into her own room, dragged an almost coffin-shaped piece of luggage out and dropped Trouble in, wincing as his head snapped against the metal edging. No one would take a second glance at the suitcase, even if it was a violent shade of hot pink. They would at a diminutive man in a white insulating suit with pointy ears and a very crimson leg.

Without pause, she pulled out another suitcase and began throwing things in it—her boxing gloves, most sensible clothes, jade hair-ties—

She stopped at that, fingering the gently glowing jade pieces pensively. After Mary-Sue had seen her sudden fervor to replace everything with green, she had dipped into Juliet's paint fund and bought her Wizard-style hair ties. Unlike Muggle ones, which Juliet found perfectly fine, these glowed slightly, giving them more life, and never knotted up the hair at all. In fact, hair with them in it never snarled. She wore it to bed, although she continued to brush her hair out of sheer habit.

Holding these simple reminders of an unpretentious life, she leaned over the suitcase and began to sob.

In the window, an iridescent sapphire bird stopped singing to the whispering morning wind, and flew on to a less conspicuous host.

Artemis crossed his arms, thoroughly enjoying the exchange. "So your… Council has never been actually questioned?"

Holly glared at him again, as if just one more time might actually get him to be quiet. Predictably, it didn't. "No, but that's because they have never made a mistake."

"Extremely unlikely, my dear Holly. No one is perfect."

"Even you," Holly growled back, firmly looking at the complex Arithmancy equations without bothering to try and understand them. She pretended to ignore the dear; last time he had said that she had offered him a free flying lesson on the Hogwarts Grounds, and she didn't want to get into any more trouble than she already was by following up on her word. Shameful, she knew, but she didn't think Artemis would note this.

They were waiting for McGonagall to return with Dumbledore. By the length of time they had been left alone in the room, it would be a while. Not that any more would matter—they had discussed the now-official war until the students has been sent down to their dorms.

Artemis allowed himself a small, infuriating smile. "Especially me."

"Modesty, Mud Boy? My my my, are you growing a soft spot?"

"No. I simply know my own limitations." His eyes traced the equations Holly seemed set on memorizing. "Ah, the set Vecter came up with ten years ago. Do you know what they do?"

"Take a wild guess, Mud Boy." The voice was edged with anger, with the threat of actually following up with the previous promise.

Artemis looked squarely at Holly. "My guess is that you're avoiding issues."

Holly turned to him, face aghast. "Excuse me? I'm avoiding issues? You're the one causing wars!"

"As I recall, you were the one who kidnapped me."

Her fists curled around the edges her seat, and the rest of her muscles tensed with withheld anger. She had been working on discipline, as well as plotting in general. Neither came to much avail. "You were the one who asked for it."

"Really? I do not recall asking for you."

"You started it!" she whispered fiercely. She let go of the seat's edges, and faced Artemis across the aisle. Artemis vaguely pictured a kitten hissing at a lion. "You kidnapped me, and you started it!"

"Did I?" Artemis asked, lacing his fingers together on his lap. "It is true that I started that, and ended it, but what about this? I did nothing; you struck first, which is against your laws."

Holly suddenly wished for McGonagall to come back, even if she would come with a confirmation on the war. "You started it," she insisted stubbornly.

This annoyed Artemis slightly, although he did not show it. If anything, he considered people that could not see past their own pride below him. Holly was rapidly beginning to be slip down into that status. "You started it, mademoiselle," he said softly, "and that Council of yours made you."

Holly stuck her nose into the air, and turned so she was facing the equations again. "Bologna," she said, but there was no conviction behind the statement.

She had let Artemis get beneath her skin again. And, salting that deep wound, was the fact that he was right, rubbed it in but didn't act upon it.

"I hate you," she muttered under her breath.

Artemis only smiled, and turned back to study the equations. Par one, and only five rounds to go.

Holly's a bit off in this chapter. Desolée.

One-hundred points to the favorite house of whomever can find the five things that lovely little bird represents. Mes aimées au lycée could only find three each.

Namárië,

Nallasariel the Weeper