The Family Name--The Arctic Incident

By Elbereth in April

A/N: So that we don't confuse Artemis Sr. and Artemis the Second, sometimes I will refer to Mr. Fowl as Timmy, which is Angeline's pet name for her husband.

Chapter 8: He's Alive!

They floo'd from the fireplace of a tavern. More than a few people gave the group strange looks. Two dirty boys, a man as big as a troll, an injured, unconscious body--they weren't exactly inconspicuous.

"Durmstrang Infirmary!"

They came out in a room that was predominantly white, and extraordinarily clean. A row of beds stood along the far wall. Butler laid Mr. Fowl down on one.

Draco looked around for some sort of office. He found a likely-looking door in the corner and was just getting ready to knock when it opened. A tall, thin man with dark brown hair and a mustache closed the door behind him and looked them over. "I'm Alexander Kochevikov, mediwizard. Please state your business."

"We have an injured man."

"We do not treat outside patients. Sorry. Try the St. Petronella Clinic." He moved as if to open his door again.

Draco's chin lifted in his most superior manner. "I am Draco Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy's son."

The man immediately tried to smile deferentially, even though it came out a bit formal and stiff. "My my, Lucius Malfoy's Heir! It's been too long since he was here last. . . we've hardly seen him since your mother's unfortunate decision to send you to Hogwarts. . . such a shame. . ."

"This is Artemis Fowl the Second. I'm sure you've heard of him. His father is injured. I am sure you would be able to help."

"Of course, well, for you we can make an exception. My job is to heal. . ." Another awkward smile, then he walked over to the bed and examined Artemis Senior. He frowned at the man's appearance. "What has happened to him?"

"Shipwreck and. . . poor living conditions for a long period afterward," Artemis replied.

"I will see what I can do."

They sat down nearby and watched Kochevikov work on his patient. About five minutes later another man entered the infirmary. He was also tall and thin, with a goatee and an oily voice. "I am Headmaster Karkaroff." He began shaking everyone's hand. "Pleased to meet you. The paintings told me you were here. I understand you came seeking healing."

"Yes. Fowl's father was injured. He requires treatment."

"He will get it, of course. Allow me to show you around. Perhaps you'll decide to switch schools, eh?"

Artemis looked over at his father, then at Malfoy, who nodded reassuringly. "You can trust them that much, anyway. We'll have awhile before Kochevikov finishes, we might as well."

"Fine then. Why don't you show us the library?"

"You're so pathetic, Fowl."

"You whine too much, Malfoy."

"It's all right," Butler told the Headmaster, "they're always like this."

Karkaroff led them down the halls. "Notice the flying buttresses..."

"Indeed."

A ghost flew past them with a huge Scimitar on its back.

"What's that ghost doing with that weapon? Surely he didn't use it in class."

"Don't any of your Hogwarts ghosts have weaponry?"

"Surely not--you're Hogwarts students?" The ghost asked, stopping and floating back. "Why, I don't think there have been any of those here since I last used this blade--at one of the last Tri-Wizard Tournaments!"

"What's the Tri-Wizard Tournament?"

"Ah, those were the days," the ghost sighed happily. "The tournament was a competition held between the three premiere wizarding schools: Durmstrang, Hogwarts, and Beaubatons. Each school had one student who would represent them in three assigned tasks. Each was judged according to their performance. The schools would take turns hosting the tournament. Unfortunately, it is no longer held. It was ruled too dangerous many years ago--the contestants kept dying."

"That would put a damper on things." Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Is that how you died?"

"No--I choked on some stroganoff. But I did get to use this scimitar there! I fought a minotaur. Beat him, too. It was a highlight of my life." He wiped a ghostly tear from his eye.

"Yes, thank you, moving on," Karkaroff insisted.

A few minutes later, Karkaroff showed them into the library, which was approximately the same size as Hogwarts, but had far more books relating to the Dark Arts, just as Artemis had hoped.

"We'll just settle in and wait then," Artemis told Karkaroff. "We'll read something to keep ourselves occupied."

"But. . ."

"No need to wait around for us, I'm sure you have many important things to do. You are the Headmaster, after all."

Draco smirked at the way Fowl trampled right through all of the man's objections until he felt he had no choice but to leave. He couldn't admit he wasn't really all that important, now could he?

After the man had gone, Artemis began to read his way through as much of the library as he could. Butler was given permission to use Artemis's fairy-powered laptop, and Draco abandoned the book he had idly selected to look over Butler's shoulder.

"You have another email from Miss Granger," Butler reported.

"Email?"

"Electronic mail. Letters sent over the internet."

"Oooh, you get letters from Granger, Fowl? Are they love letters? Admittedly, Granger doesn't seem the type for gushy poetry, but she may do it just to confuse you. . ."

"I'm ignoring you, Malfoy."

"Not very well, obviously."

Butler chuckled.

"Let me write her!"

"You can not send hate-mail to Granger. Especially not from my account."

"Fine, I'll get my own account and send hate-mail to you. What's an account and could my father find out if I had one?"

"I wouldn't think so, unless he saw you using a computer. Your account is like. . . a combination of a personal owl and your home address."

"I could set you up with an account," Butler offered.

"Go ahead if it'll keep him quiet," Artemis said.

"You weren't consulted," Malfoy sneered. "Go on, show me, Butler."

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Eventually, a portrait of Paracelsus informed them that Kochevikov had finished and they returned to the Infirmary. "He is healed except for the missing leg," the medi-wizard told them. "You can get him a magical replacement easily enough, but I have none here. I haven't woken him up yet. I thought you might prefer to wait until you have reached your destination. A simple Enervate will do it."

"Thank you."

"Not a problem. Perhaps Lucius would like to come visit us again sometime."

"I'll tell him you asked after him," Draco replied, suddenly wondering what repercussions this visit could have and what exactly he was going to tell his father.

Butler picked up Mr. Fowl. "Where will we be flooing to?"

"The only places I know in Dublin are the hotel we were staying in and the pub at the Shades--um, that's the Irish equivalent of Knockturn Alley, if you didn't know. You need to get your manor hooked up to the floo network, Fowl."

"Apparently so."

"We need to go somewhere close to where we can acquire Muggle transportation," the bodyguard said.

"Might I suggest Aethelfrith's Apothecary? It is owned by a fine Potionmaker and his establishment is located on the Muggle-Wizarding boundary. He also sells Muggle medicines, you see."

They looked at each other. "All right. Let's go there."

"Tell Prof. Kakaroff we appreciated his hospitality."

Kochevikov nodded goodbye and watched them depart through the fireplace.

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Aethelfrith the potions-seller was rather surprised by their appearance in his apothecary, but shrugged it off. He even let them wait in his backroom for the car Artemis called for, after Draco bought a large number of ingredients from him.

While they waited, they questioned the man about magical prosthetic legs, and were given the name of a person who specialized in that area. The car and chauffer arrived promptly to drive them back to Fowl Manor.

"Try and locate Mother and Juliet on vacation as soon as we get home," Artemis instructed Butler as they rode along. "I don't want to go hunting through every spa in Europe looking for them."

"Yes, Artemis."

"And make sure my accounts are well hidden. No need for Father to know exactly what I've been up to for the past two years."

Butler smiled. "Yes, Artemis."

Draco leaned over, grinning widely. "Exactly what all have you been up to?"

Artemis shoved him away. "None of your business, Malfoy. When were you planning on going home, anyway?"

"I'm meeting your father, Fowl. Don't think about kicking me out til then."

"Is that really necessary?"

"I think I've earned it."

Artemis swallowed. "Oh. Well. Yes, fine."

Butler grinned at Draco. "You actually shut him up."

"Butler!"

"Oh, sorry, Artemis. I am, of course, on my employer's side at all times."

"Right," Draco smirked.

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Draco was sensitive enough to let Fowl wake his father up privately. No matter how curious he was to see it. In the car, Fowl and Butler had worked out a much edited version of events to tell Mr. Fowl, so he knew that much. The rest would be too personal.

Which of course was why Draco wanted to see it.

He contented himself with snagging Fowl's laptop from their luggage to play with while he waited in the guestroom. After all, it wasn't often the other boy was too preoccupied to notice something like that--he had to take his opportunities when they came.

He congratulated himself on remembering how to search the Internet--a lot of things had happened since Holly's explanation. He typed in "Malfoy" just to see if anything would come up, then changed his mind and searched for "Artemis Fowl" instead.

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Meanwhile, in the Fowl master bedroom. . .

"Enervate."

Artemis felt his pulse racing as his father's eyelids fluttered open. He hid the wand in his pocket quickly. He'd get to all that eventually.

Timmy looked at his son, then over at Butler, standing by the door, then back to his son. He frowned in confusion. The last thing he remembered was bidding his family goodbye before a business trip. What was going on?

"Father," Artemis greeted, his voice coming out far less steady than he would have liked.

Timmy blinked. Wait--this couldn't be his son. He was too old.

"You've been unwell."

"Have I?" He took stock of himself. He did appear to be rather weary, and--he drew in a sharp breath. Part of his leg was gone. He swallowed hard.

"Your ship sank on its way to Russia--two years ago. You've been missing since. You were presumed dead, in fact. But, well. . . I kept searching. We finally found you."

Timmy's eyes were wide. 'This can't be true!' he thought, but apparently it was.

"You're back home now. Mother's in France, as it happens, but she'll be returning as soon as she can. I know it's a shock." He bit his lip, most unlike himself, and looked over at Butler for reassurance.

"Something of a shock, yes," his father answered dazedly. "Where have I been for two years? Why can't I remember?"

Butler stepped forward. "You were abducted by the Russian Mafiya and only recently regained consciousness. We. . . contracted a small group to free you, then you underwent medical treatment. Now here you are. One of the healers said some memory loss was likely."

'Well-phrased,' Artemis thought. He wasn't feeling at his complete best, himself.

There was a long silence as Timmy processed all this. "I see," he said at last. "So. . . two years. You've grown, Artemis."

Artemis stood a bit straighter. "Yes, Father."

"How. . . how have things been?"

"I think you will find that the family bank accounts are healthy, and I trust you will approve of the stock portfolio. It has yielded an 18 return in the past financial year. 18 is quite exemplary in the current market. I haven't failed you."

Timmy blinked. Finances? The boy was giving him finances? Is that what he thought was important? 'Is that what--is that what I taught him?'

"How do you feel, sir?" Butler interrupted.

"Fine, actually. Just a little tired. But if I've been asleep for so long, I think I'd like to get out of bed." He forced a smile.

The manservant helped him sit up. "Put him in that chair, Butler," Artemis ordered.

As that was being done, Artemis spoke again. "Now, Father, there is one other thing you should know. Do you believe in magic?"

Timmy's face went carefully blank. "Why do you ask?"

"I recently learned that I'm a wizard."

Timmy studied his face. If he remembered correctly--granted, he hadn't been around nearly enough--his son didn't joke. "You're serious."

Artemis pulled out his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa," he cast on the chair, which rose a few inches off the ground. "Agilus Actus." He looked at his father. "Tell it to go."

Timmy's eyes were narrowed. "Go."

The chair started to slowly move forward. "Stop!" It stopped.

"Better than crutches, right? We didn't have time to get a more. . . mundane wheelchair ordered. But this. . ."

"Hardly seems explainable," Timmy interrupted. "I'll be seeing a lot of people. I believe a more--mundane, as you put it--method of transportation will be necessary."

"Well, yes, but. . ."

"How did you make this discovery, anyway?"

Artemis's hand was sweaty on his wand. His father had always been a bit gruff and focused on making money, but the way he was behaving now was a bit. . . un-nerving. Was he going to be shunned for not being--normal? "I got a letter saying I'd been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They keep tabs on magical people. I attended there last year."

"Did you? Your mother approved?"

"She was quite excited. I've learned a lot, too. I'm--I'm working on alchemy."

"You enjoy it, then? You like being a wizard?"

"Yes, Father."

"I see. Well then, it all seems settled. But for now, I'm starving."

"I'll arrange for sandwiches," Butler put in.

'Was that it?' Artemis wondered. Apparently, his father just had to get used to the idea. Artemis felt relief rush through him like a tidal wave. He smiled.

Butler continued, heading for the door, "I'll go tell Draco we'll be having lunch."

Timmy looked at him. "Draco?"

"Oh," Artemis answered, "he's my. . . associate," he concluded at the same time Butler said, "Friend."

Artemis ignored this. "He's visiting from England. He's in my year at school."

"He's a wizard, too." Artemis nodded. "I don't remember ever meeting any of your friends before."

"Well. . . no. I've never brought anyone home." Artemis shifted a bit uncomfortably. Not to mention, he'd never had anyone to bring.

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A/N: One more short chapter, then next week look for the sequel, The Family Name--Third Year.

The name for the bad part of town, The Shades, is from Terry Pratchett's books--you must read them. The flying buttresses reference is from Disney's Beauty and the Beast. I took the Russian name Kochevikov out of a trilogy by C. J. Cherryh. It starts with Rusalka. Read those, too! The spell on the chair basically tells it to be self-propelling.