Hello, hello, hello…I am your beloved…how did Jim Carrey say it? I really want to watch Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events but it's not coming out in Singapore for a while.
Mr. Colfer made a mistake with The Seventh Dwarf. If Mulch mistook Artemis for a bounty hunter in Arctic Incident, then he probably didn't know him then. If Seventh Dwarf took place before Arctic Incident, Mulch would have recognized Artemis. So I will take into account the facts from the spin-off LEPRecon, but totally ignore Seventh Dwarf.
chapter six: the beginning of a dark artisan
Artemis was having a difficult time deciding what he hated more: Peeves or Herbology. The Mandrakes were nothing short of annoying brats, kicking and spitting at Artemis whenever possible. Artemis never knew that Mandrakes could vomit, but he learnt it the hard way.
The rest of his friends – correction: allies – weren't having so many problems. Blaise was currently annoying Draco Malfoy as much as possible. It was interesting to see Malfoy's face go from skin-tone to red…to green…and finally brown as he put his head in his hands – which were covered in manure.
According to Sprout, Mandrakes were a powerful restorative that could heal Petrified people, and (according to Artemis) when used in conjunction with unicorn blood, could form a powerful potion that was the liquid equivalent of a Lower Elements Tunnel Blue spider. He would have carried on to about eight hours' worth of knowledge and intellect had he not been interrupted by the bell. He checked his watch, and for once in his life, decided to say thank you to Theo for tripping the bell twenty minutes early.
He left before Professor Sprout caught on, kicking a Mandrake off his shoes as he went.
Charms class was mostly quite boring for Artemis, who spent the lesson mastering a Summoning Charm and the Ilereiar Incantation, which could animate large, originally inanimate objects (this particular charm used to animate a certain flying car and most brooms. Also known as 'a spell to bring motion to the motionless). After experimenting on Neville Longbottom's desk and Professor Flitwick's quills, he was unceremoniously dragged out of the class by Blaise and Theo.
"What do you think you're doing?" Artemis sputtered.
"Teaching you," Blaise replied calmly. "Flying lessons await. Same for the Quidditch pitch. We're going to get your broom, silly."
"What's this?" murmured Theo, stopping in his tracks. Artemis yanked himself free of Theo's grip and stood up, dusting his robes off. He moved around Theo (who was slightly taller than him) to see what was causing the holdup.
In the middle of the offending crowd stood Potter and Malfoy, who appeared to be trying to give each other hell. Between them was a little boy, Creevey, who looked eager as a chipmunk to get a photograph of Potter. Apparently, Creevey idolized Potter and would do a lot for an autograph.
"EVERYONE QUEUE UP!" Malfoy roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"
"Signed photos…?" Blaise said, clearly shocked. "From Potter, the famously reclusive celebrity?"
"What's all this, what's all this? Who's giving out signed photos?"
Artemis, at that moment, simply desired nothing more than to pound Lockhart and his wavy blonde locks deep underground. And then maybe he could request that Foaly use him as a tester for all his new inventions, appropriately torturous…
Lockhart flung his arm around Potter's shoulders. "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry!"
"Oh, boy. This is going to get good," Theo muttered.
"Come on, then, Mr. Creevey. A double portrait, can't say any fairer than that, and we'll both sign it for you."
Artemis was seriously starting to ponder the merits of a Choking Hex. OK, Lockhart wasn't directly offending him, but the blonde was the sort of guy everyone loved to hate.
As Creevey snapped the photo and took it from Lockhart, the bell for afternoon classes rang. Blaise groaned. "Damn. Now the lessons have to wait. Time for bloody Transfiguration again."
The crowd began to disperse, and Potter hurried off in Artemis's direction. He was, sadly, closely followed by Lockhart. Artemis caught a few words as he headed towards the Transfiguration classroom with Blaise and Theo: "let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible – looks a tad bigheaded, Harry, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go…"
"Yeah, yeah," Theo mumbled as Lockhart continued rambling. "I'm going to buy your entire stock of photos, and I'll sacrifice them in a bonfire…"
"OK, put your hand above the broom and say UP!"
"Up," Artemis repeated, injecting a bit of venom into his voice. The broom, evidently scared, leapt enthusiastically up into Artemis's right hand.
It was a nice, balmy Friday afternoon, very good for flying, according to Blaise. Storybook weather. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and Artemis was taking flying lessons.
Artemis mounted it, not feeling very good about this. If he wanted to fly, he'd use his private jet or fashion a set of electronic wings like Holly Short's – not on a thin stick that looked alarmingly fragile.
"Now mount it."
Theo and Blaise corrected Artemis's grip, much to Artemis's irritation. If flying on a broom took this much trouble, it probably wasn't really worth it. Artemis had never been much good at sports, and this probably wasn't going to be any different.
He gripped the broom tightly and it shot high, high into the air. Artemis experimented with a few moves, feeling like he was going to fall off any moment. He was joined by Blaise and Theo, both riding Cleansweep Eights.
"Here, catch! Rule of this game: get this past Theo, the best keeper ever!" Three guesses who said that.
A bright red ball zoomed toward Artemis, who hovered uncertainly. He knew for a fact that he couldn't throw very far…
Artemis's nose felt broken, but Blaise assured him it wasn't, as it was apparently still straight. Theo had to go and hit me with a Quaffle in the middle of the formulation of my strategy, the now-irate Artemis thought. Now, he had to go search for an idiotic Golden Snitch, variation of the Golden Snidget. Lovely.
"Hey," Theo said, staring at a mass of scarlet moving towards them. "I think we better get off the pitch. Don't want to be caught in the middle of a Slytherin-Gryffindor battle."
"D'you think we're stupid enough to pick a fight with people twice our size?" Blaise snorted.
"Perhaps both of you would be. I, on the other hand, would like to keep my limbs intact," Artemis replied smoothly. "Allow me to refresh your memory, Blaise. The Slytherin team is training..."
"In the afternoon, yes."
"And what time are the Gryffindors training?" Artemis continued, still condescending.
"Afternoon…oh," Blaise said sheepishly. "Right."
Artemis sighed and brought his broom down to the pitch, just before the Slytherin team entered. When Artemis saw the Seeker, hidden as he was behind all the musclemen of the team, he reeled back in slight shock.
"Draco Malfoy?"
"Yes," the blonde sneered. "Now move it, Mudblood. There are more important things than you at the moment."
There was a definite murmur among the Gryffindor Quidditch team. A Slytherin Muggle-born? Perish the thought. Artemis's face reddened ever so slightly.
"Hey," Blaise said sharply. "There's no call to be rude. If I recall correctly, it was you who bought your way onto the Slytherin team."
Malfoy sneered and elbowed his way past Marcus Flint. "Yeah, cousin. And that is a problem because…?"
"Because none of the Gryffindor team members had to buy their way in," Artemis retorted. "And that, apparently, is why Slytherin lost rather badly to Gryffindor last year. I don't doubt you will be the one to bring down the good name of Slytherin house – as far as Hogwarts is concerned, that is."
"Oh, look. A pitch invasion." Nobody paid any attention to Flint as he said this.
Weasley number four and Hermione Granger were striding across the pitch towards them. Artemis, luckily for him, didn't turn to look.
Malfoy gripped his wand and pointed it at Artemis, screaming "Lingots Erbrechen!"
Artemis countered with "Elereous!"
The force field absorbed the spell into it. For one moment, the force field glowed a sick sort of green before the spell, now strengthened considerably (by three times, in fact), bounced back and hit Malfoy in the guts. He promptly keeled over.
Artemis took his shield down and approached his house-mate warily. He was sprawled on the grassy pitch, not moving.
"Is he all right?" Blaise asked anxiously. "I know he's a loser, but he's my cousin, and I'm admittedly a bit scared of his mum."
Suddenly, Malfoy sat up, breathing hard.
"He looks healthy enough to me," Artemis observed.
Famous last words.
The Malfoy heir gripped his chest and started heaving. Artemis backpedaled – and Malfoy gave a gigantic belch that echoed around the Quidditch pitch. That wasn't the worst of it. With the belch came three huge slugs, pouring out of Malfoy's mouth.
The Gryffindors were laughing hard, and Artemis could have sworn he saw Marcus Flint smirking. It seemed they weren't as loyal to Malfoy as he thought. Ah well, in a house full of cunning, generally evil teenagers, loyalty probably wouldn't last very long.
Artemis knew that his 3S (Slytherin Social Status, intelligently invented by Octavius Malfoy around World War II) had just been taken down a few notches, but that didn't lessen his satisfaction as he returned to the castle with Blaise and Theo.
Theo, hooded and cloaked, descended the stairs silently.
You sure have a lot of stealth for some pansy pacifist.
Shut up, Dark,Theo replied tiredly. We've been arguing the whole damn day…
You have no right to call me Dark, not considering what you're doing.
Theo didn't bother to reply. Talking to himself was a sign of insanity...but what did it matter...for, after all, wasn't he insane already? Whatever it was, although Theo would never be alone, Dark Theo wasn't the best of companions.
Theo fingered the scars around his wrists. Killing himself was a nice option compared to spending his life with a mini-Voldemort.
You have no guts. You'll never get anywhere. You're worthless!
Theo vaguely remembered.
A spiked whip.
Scarlet.
Blood.
Gryffindor colours…
"SHUT UP!"
Exactly two seconds later, Theo realized he'd probably woken up half the Hogwarts population with that yell. He shook his head and continued on his way to Hogsmeade.
Everyone said he was insane. Even Dumbledore treated him warily. Nobody did really understand what it was like living with a dark lord in his head…
I'm not a dark lord. I'm you. Technically, I'm your dark side, but just stop your whining and get on to Hogsmeade.
Theo, for once, felt smug. Hey, genius, I'm already there.
Silence was golden, he thought happily, as Dark didn't speak. Theo hurried up to the Hog's Head and shoved the door open.
"Hello, Aberforth."
Dumbledore's brother nodded at him. Aberforth was the disgraced, possibly illiterate younger sibling, with long, dirty hair. "He's in room thirteen," he said gruffly.
"Thanks." Theo proceeded on his way, ascending the grimy stairs. A lot of strange folk hung around this pub. Making deals like the one Theo was going to make.
So, you finally admit that I am useful.
Theo wasn't actually going to say that out loud. Dark Theo was left brain. He was right brain. It would be odd if he were to start carrying on lively conversations with himself in public.
But isn't that what you're doing?
Room thirteen. Theo pushed the door open and let himself in to face the man known as Mundungus Fletcher.
"You have the goods?"
The man wavered. "Yes. All your illegal books and your equally illegal poison."
Demons can sense demons, you know. That's why you're getting this poison.
Technically, you're not a demon, you're me. What, you got an odd feel about the Weaslette's diary, too?asked Theo.
What do you think, genius? Oh, and just so you know... demons aren't necessarily non-human.
Lockhart strolled happily down the halls, on his way to supervise a detention. It would be nice to take those rich, arrogant Slytherins down a few pegs. Heaven knows, they certainly needed it.
Lockhart had always loved his time at Hogwarts, despite his charms being disasters and his potions exploding half the time. The only thing he felt saddened about was that nobody really seemed to appreciate his fame-to-be, especially not those older kids.
James Potter, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape and Sirius Black (Death Eater, wasn't he?) had all hated him to the core. (Although poor Lockhart would never know this, all the other students had hated him as well.) Hah! Now they most definitely regretted it. Miss Evans had the fortune of being his first love, although it had never been requited. A fact she probably regretted. How Lockhart would love to rub it in her face now, the fact that he was famous, and she was nobody.
In any case, he was focusing on giving the Slytherins as hard a time as possible. Clapping his hands together, he strode grandly (or so he thought) around the corner to face four groups of mutinous Slytherins.
"Now, as you know, you are here to serve detention. I decided to spice things up, rather than sticking you the original concept of cleaning. Group A," he indicated the group with Draco Malfoy and Artemis Fowl in it, "will still clean the corridors. Group B will be," Lockhart thought hard before announcing, "helping Professor Snape brew potions for Madam Pomfrey. Group C," he gestured to the group from which a shock of white hair stood out, "um…helping Professor Kettleburn with his creatures." (Everyone shivered – they all knew just how many limbs Kettleburn had left intact.) "Finally, Group D, with Miss Zabini in it, will be given the best task!"
The said group leaned forward curiously.
"Answering my fan mail!"
There was a collective groan from that group, and for some odd reason Fowl and Malfoy looked greatly relieved.
"Now," Lockhart beamed. "If you'll all just hand me your wands, and do remember to tie a slip of parchment with your respective names on it to the wand!"
He tried to conjure some parchments, but failed miserably. Fowl sighed and raised his wand. "Accio Parchments!"
Lockhart would suffer the effects of the parchment cuts for a long while after that. Rubbing his neck irritably, Lockhart set the Slytherins to their tasks. Making sure to leave instructions with Group D and Potter for answering the mail, he began supervising the first group. Naturally, did Lockhart trust a bunch of stuck-up brats who all thought they were better than him to clean a school properly? No. Of course he didn't.
A few students stood out in Lockhart's dim mind for many reasons. Firstly, Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived. Evidently, the arrogant little boy thought that he was better than Gilderoy Lockhart just because he defeated You-Know-Who! Did he get an Order of Merlin? Did he get a spot on the Dark Force Defense League? Did he have as many books written about (or by, for that matter) him? No. The answers were all no. Potter was just a fame-hungry, attention-seeking little boy who needed to be taken down a peg or two. Maybe even three.
Secondly was Artemis Fowl the Second, apparently a millionaire in the Muggle world. Money wasn't everything. Celebrity was as celebrity did, and Fowl clearly needed to understand that. He had to learn that, just because he had the highest I.Q. in Europe, he wasn't better than Lockhart himself, who was clearly thrice the wizard Fowl could ever hope to become. Also, how dare that boy imply Lockhart couldn't read! Of course he could. The odd thing about it was how Fowl had known that Lockhart did indeed wear pink thongs. They were a bit faded, but still nice and pink.
Thirdly was Draco Malfoy. Lockhart, after reading his troublemaking test paper, decided Malfoy and Fowl were more alike than they could know. Only an observant like Lockhart could see this.
Anyway, who even cared about all that? Lockhart thought happily. Time for the boys to learn who was truly second-best around there! (The boys, of course. Not Lockhart! Perish the thought.)
"Right, my good fellows! Let's start cleaning!"
Artemis was in a foul mood by the time cleaning ended, and it showed. He shot Lockhart a smouldering glare as he passed. If looks could kill, Lockhart would have died so many times that he'd probably be sort of an extra-concentrated ghost.
Blaise hurried to meet up with him and Theo, who was sporting a sprained ankle.
"Hey, Artemis! Theo!"
"What now?" Artemis muttered angrily. He just wanted to sleep. Three bloody hours of cleaning had taken its toll.
"Potter was serving detention with us."
"And this is relevant because?" Artemis said curtly.
Blaise frowned at him. "Look, we all want to kill Lockhart, but that's no reason to take it out on me."
"Sorry," Artemis said with more sincerity than he'd originally intended. He reminded himself never to do that again, or at least not without a healthy amount of sarcasm. Lockhart had dropped not-too-subtle hints about Artemis being second best to him. As if! Artemis knew that Lockhart couldn't even perform a simple exterminating charm on a rat.
"OK. So, Potter says he heard a voice."
"Didn't we all? Lockhart's nasal voice echoes in our ears every day till we want to push him off the Astronomy Tower. What, pray tell, is new?" said Artemis dryly.
"But this time it was a voice only he could hear. I didn't hear anything."
"Really? Potter's delusional now, then. Hallucinations after spending unwonted amounts of time with his Muggle cousin, whom I looked up and happens to be obscenely fat and spoilt?"
"Possible. But I talked to him. He says it said 'rip, tear, kill'."
Artemis frowned. "Odd. Blaise, did it say anything else?"
"Uh, nope. Just rip, tear and kill."
"Nobody else was there?"
"Lockhart was in the corridor outside his office. So were you. You should know."
"Yeah, and Kettleburn's office is above Lockhart's, nothing can sneak in from there," Theo added. "Filch was on cleaning duty downstairs as well and he hates interruptions, so nobody could have spoken from down there."
"Ah. Theo – are there pipes, or a network, or a variation of connections that could connect those three areas together?"
"Pipes, yes. Drains. But there isn't anything else."
"Well, at least we know that whatever Potter heard spoke from the pipes." Something suddenly struck Artemis. He'd read about the Chamber of Secrets…could it be…? "Where do the pipes lead?"
"What? Oh. I think they just lead to someplace inside the lake," Blaise replied uncertainly.
Artemis took stock of the situation. "Very well. Since we appear to be making no headway, I suggest we sleep on it and ponder this tomorrow."
"Sounds good to me," Blaise yawned.
Theo paused midway down the stairs. A mysterious diary that only Dark Theo could sense. A creature from the Chamber of Secrets that spoke through pipes and was, according to legend, out to murder Muggle-borns. The diary and the chamber…could they possibly be connected…?
The tanned punk yawned. The millionaire was right. He should sleep on it. But he had something else to do first. Something that involved Malfoy's Invisibility Cloak, illegal Dark Arts books, a tent and some bricks.
Artemis was severely displeased when Theo shook him awake at dawn two days after the detention. He (Artemis), not knowing it was Theo at the time, fired a volley of hexes at him. Now, it was early evening (after Lockhart's dislike for Artemis had hit an all-time high) and (Dark) Theo was still complaining about the Bat-Bogey Hex. Of course, Dark Theo never hurt his friends, but that didn't stop his mouth from working, a.k.a. bugging the hell out of Artemis.
"You didn't have to hit me with it so hard!"
"So hard? Honestly, Theodore, the Bat-Bogey Hex barely lasted you a few hours."
"The maximum is two days, you know. I could've spent it in the Hospital Wing!"
"Well, as you appear to be quite chipper about it, you are obviously not in the Hospital Wing, so, simply put, shut up and go back to your normal, vague self."
"Huh?" Theo replied, confused. "Why? What did I do?" Without further ado, he extracted a Blood Pop and started sucking on it. Blaise wrinkled her nose.
"Oh, that is so disgusting."
"What did you want to tell me this morning, anyway?" interrupted Artemis.
"Well, before someone hit me with Bat-Bogey Hex and –"
"Get on with it. We have no time left for your self-pity."
"OK, cool it. Right, I bought a tent."
"A tent."
"Yes. Follow me. Arty, create a diversion."
"Don't call me Arty, and do be more specific. Whose attention am I supposed to divert from our sordid activities?"
"Hagrid, the gamekeeper – you think up the rest. You are, after all, the genius among us."
Artemis thought for a brief moment and sighed. He never liked taking orders, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Very well."
Less than ten minutes later, Artemis joined the Dynamic Duo at the foot of a stone wall.
"Hey, Fowl, spill. What did you do?"
"Simple. I all too conveniently ran into Lockhart and requested that he give Hagrid some advice on getting kelpies out of a well. Surely it's not that heinous if I happen to mention that Lockhart should inform him about his amazing exploits? Our dear professor was alarmingly excited about this."
"Whew," Blaise chortled. "That's going to take a while."
"So, Theodore, enlighten us. We know that Hagrid is the only one who could possibly see us – everyone else, after all, is at dinner – so what is the diversion for?"
Theo told them. Artemis choked and Blaise's jaw dropped.
"ARE YOU TRYING TO GET US KILLED?"
"Are you trying to get us discovered?" Theo hissed to his temperamental female friend. "Revulus Illus!"
Various handholds, formed by missing stone bricks, appeared in the wall. Artemis could see that the handholds formed a vertical path that led to the roof.
"Yes, Blaise," Artemis murmured. "I do think that he's trying to get us killed. If we fall from that height, I doubt that even Arresto Momentum can save us."
"Don't worry! It's perfectly safe!"
"Drug dealers say that, too," Artemis retorted, but followed Theo in climbing up. Blaise stood, uncertain, at the foot of the wall, but trailed them after a while.
After numerous incidents in which Artemis nearly slipped and fell off, they finally reached the roof. Theo moved along the roof, feeling for something. "Got it!" he declared. "Password: pig snout!"
"Pig snout?" Artemis and Blaise echoed incredulously.
"That was the Gryffindor password last year."
"That explains it," said Blaise dryly.
The remark was lost on Artemis as a small, Cub-Scout-sized tent appeared in midair, perched on the roof, one side supported by magic. Theo beckoned to them and squeezed his way into the tent. Blaise caught Artemis's eye, sighed and went in. Artemis, after a lot of wiggling (he was fairly tall for his age now) finally entered.
The tent had at least two storeys, and three rooms on each floor. The (although they didn't know it) newly-dubbed Slytherin Trio stepped into the hall, which was barely decorated. The only thing in it was a staircase, which obviously led to the second floor.
Artemis entered the next room, a miniature pub. It had a kitchenette, a fireplace and unless Artemis was mistaken, a giant coffee machine. The kitchenette was manned by a house-elf, who waved to Artemis and bowed. Artemis didn't entirely approve of the concept of house-elves (having met Holly), but nodded back. Ordering some takeaway Earl Grey, with milk, Artemis tailed Theo through the other door, a glass one.
It appeared lead to a modern sort of library. There were countless bookshelves styled what Juliet Butler would call 'funky' (which Artemis hated), and with a few cozy armchairs and lamps. As far as Artemis could tell, they were stocked with books delving into the Dark Arts.
The last room was a bathroom, not as large as the ones in Fowl Manor, but acceptable. The rooms on the second floor were, as Artemis discovered after exploration, bedrooms.
They met in the library after looking around. "Well?" Artemis demanded. "This is obviously not your average two-man tent. What's this?"
Theo shifted uncomfortably. "Well…"
Artemis fixed him with an eagle eye, but turned when he noticed Blaise's expression. "What is it?"
Blaise was seething. "I knew it. I knew it, Theodore! You stole it!"
Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Stole it?"
"Well, yes. You know how Malfoy and I used to be friends? I went over to his house to play one day --"
"Mansion, you mean --"
"Yeah, and it was his birthday, see, so he got a tent for his birthday and gave me the secondhand one."
"A generous Malfoy? As if," Artemis remarked.
Blaise wasn't entirely convinced of the tent's safety. "And why did you even bring us up here in the first place? Why not use the Room of Requirement? How do you know there's no curse on it to prevent anyone other than Malfoy coming in?"
"The what?" Artemis asked, partially irritated at not knowing something but interested in finding out.
"I'll fill you in on it later."
"Well, some seventh years found out what the Room's used for. I walked in one day and found two Hufflepuffs snogging."
"That certainly explains it," Blaise said dryly.
Theo swept one arm around the tent dramatically. "And here we have an entire tent full of Dark Arts books."
This sounded very interesting to Artemis Fowl. This newfound interest was going to have dreadful consequences one day. But that's another story.
Yue-neko: Thanks (looks happy). So that's the first vote for a Dark Draco. Nice username, by the way. Neko is cat right?
Clutchy: Thank you, and unless I'm mistaken, Kinokuniya HAS the most manga. One Light Draco vote.
MuggleBuddy: You don't have to like Draco. He will still be an evil git.
Kiharu-sama: OK, another vote for Light Draco. Thanks for reading!
Black Aliss: Yes, he steals the diary. But the mirror image of him is also called Artemis Fowl II and not on Polyjuice. I'll leave you to guess what happens. Light Draco? OK…
AlexineBlue-to-whom-I-chatted-with-earlier: One Light Draco vote.
Let's see…
Dark Draco: Yue-neko. One vote.
Light Draco: Clutchy, Kiharu-sama, Black Aliss, AlexineBlue.
Four to one, Draco will go to the Light side…and proceed to annoy the hell out of Arty. (Evil grin.)
To all others who want/wanted to review: Thank you very much… (not being sarcastic).
R&R would be nice. Rest and Relaxation from typing, and Readers and Reviewers galore. Wouldn't that be great?
Oh, and the little review button. Doesn't it look so push-able?
MERRY CHRISTMAS! OK, it was over a while ago, but hey, who cares?
--you now know my name (username)