Artemis Fowl: The Eye of the Basilisk Chapter 10: by the empty portrait, a harry potter fanfic

Kiharu-sama – The Goyle pairing scares, no? It gets people to vote.

Clutchy – A writer's block is where you find you've planned out a story and everything, but for some reason don't know what to write. I'm terrible at OCs and the last OC I tried turned out as a Mary-Sue. Luckily for you, that description matches Blaise Zabini. One Blaise vote.

Black Aliss – One Holly vote.

MuggleBuddy – One Hermione vote. The Cho and Luna thing is SUPPOSED to be scary. That's what makes people vote properly.

Born-from-the-Shadows – The first Ginny vote.

One Blaise vote…One Holly vote…One Hermione vote…and a Ginny vote. Beta reader voted for a Hermione vote. Two to one to one to one.

The last call for the voting will be up till chapter eleven. Hermione is in the lead, and Blaise, Holly and Ginny are lagging behind by one vote each.

CHAPTER TEN: by the empty portrait

10.17 a.m.

Slytherin Boys' Dormitories

"Good morning, Arty!"

Artemis held up a pale palm to shield himself from the morning sunshine, shutting the C Cube down as Blaise glanced at it.

"You shouldn't have interrupted me, Blaise. I was installing a book scanner."

"How does that work?"

"It works best in the dark."

"Oops, my bad. Sorry." Blaise tossed Artemis his forest-green cloak and drew the hangings of his four-poster bed shut to give him some privacy to change. "So, how does it work?"

"To you, Blaise, it would be Muggle Studies on a highly complicated level."

"OK, then give me your version of 'Book Scanners for Dummies'." Blaise had gotten into the series lately, and her current favourite was 'Making a Baloney Sandwich for Dummies'.

"It can operate in daylight, but works best at night. Place it on a book and it automatically scans the pages of the tome. Easier than hour-long, often fruitless searches in the library. The Scanner is obviously much more efficient than a normal scanner. I would continue on to you about the rendering process but something tells me it would be lost on you."

"Too right."

Artemis stepped out, fully dressed. "I suggest you take Muggle Studies next year, but try to avoid the topic of firearms."

"Why?"

"I don't want to spoil the surprise, now do I?"

"Very funny. By the way, we're late for a meeting with the Federation."

Artemis stopped and stared. "The Federation? Have you gone mad, Blaise? I don't particularly feel like Captain Picard at the moment, and searching for the Heir of Slytherin does not merit such an obscure name!"

"Well," Blaise said, as diplomatically as possible, "you forgot to think of a name last night."

"Do we really need a name? This partnership will only last until we locate the Heir."

"Want to stick with the Federation?"

"…No," admitted Artemis.

"Nobody else wanted it either. By the way, Granger pulled Longbottom in earlier this morning."

"I seem to recall you saying that only strong psychotropic drugs would make you allow Neville into such an organization."

"He's got a good head on his shoulders, but seems to suffer short-term memory loss."

Artemis stopped midway. "Are there no cures for memory loss?"

"There are, but they don't work on Memory Charms," said Blaise in an offhand tone. "We're meeting Theo in the library. Malfoy's going to hang around North Tower and the Dream Team plus Longbottom will be by the lake."

"Yes," Artemis said, his thoughts on what Blaise had said. They don't work on Memory Charms. Come hell or high water, he was going to find out what had warranted such strong Memory Charms that Neville Longbottom suffered from forgetfulness overspill. "So, until we find a regular meeting place, we use that arrangement?"

"Obviously. Good grief, I'm talking like you."

"I trust we're leaving the Room of Requirement as an ace in the hole?"

Blaise smirked. "Great minds think alike."

They ascended the stairs to the Great Hall. It was a long climb, given that the common room was under the lake. Artemis got some waffles and the duo headed up to the library. On the way, they spotted Malfoy, a pained expression on his face. The cause became clear soon. Pansy Parkinson was flirting with him. ("I left my pet butterfly in the Astronomy Tower. Shall we go get it back?" "You don't own a pet butterfly. Trying for a kiss-and-tell with me?")

"Wouldn't a simple 'bugger off' be sufficient?"

"You obviously don't know Pansy very well."

"And I hope not to."

Malfoy shot the prerequisite scowl at Artemis before giving a near imperceptible nod. It was barely discernible, but Artemis saw it and beckoned to his ally, who showed signs of wanting to watch her cousin being tortured. Artemis had to admit that it was enjoyable, but there were more important things to deal with. As they left, they heard Malfoy saying something that sounded a lot like 'Bugger off!'

Theo was seated by a window overlooking the lake. His white hair was concealed by a large pile of books on Petrification (but Artemis noticed a copy of 9 Days 'trendy' magazine spread out behind it). Artemis looked a bit closer and found that it was a quiz for 'your perfect love match'. "Hello, Theodore."

Theo jumped six and nine-tenths inches in the air. "Jeez, don't scare me like that," he said, hastily stuffing 9 Days away just as the magazine blared out: "Your perfect match is Minerva McGonagall!"

That stopped everyone and everything dead. Artemis, when he felt his heart start up again, voiced his thoughts, "Your perfect match is Professor McGonagall?"

"Give me that," Blaise said, snatching the magazine. "These answers are totally uncharacteristic of you, Theo."

Artemis looked over her shoulder. "They're probably what our Headmaster would say when faced with a quiz like this."

"Oh," Blaise said, looking relieved.

A snowy owl flew in and perched itself on the window sill. Theo grinned at his allies' expressions. "Meet Masila, my newest pet bird. Toby sent her to me. I have a truly great older brother."

Masila held out her leg. Artemis untied the letter the bird bore and read it quietly to his allies.

I can't get away from Pansy. Meet you at the Astronomy Tower so you can hex her to death. Merlin knows I won't stop you.

- D.M.

Artemis withdrew a quill and wrote back in emerald ink, on a parchment Blaise provided.

You are sorely mistaken if you think I am going to go up there. This is not my acrophobia, as you so eloquently put it. It's perfectly rational to be nervous of falling from a height from which you could break all your bones. Nobody wants that.

But if you do, it could be arranged.

Speaking of Parkinson, she's obviously going to hang around you till you die of old age. Don't waste your time trying to hex her.

Masila took off with the letter, and Artemis went to look up some Ministry records. He then ran the Scanner over the front covers of books on Career Records. It took about half an hour, but the Scanner beeped at last. Artemis connected it to the Cube and ran a search on Longbottom. The search yielded two results.

Alice Longbottom

Frank Longbottom

Artemis clicked the second option. He scrolled down through a list of Frank Longbottom's accomplishments and was getting to the bottom of the page when he saw it. Frank Longbottom's current residence.

Janus Thickey Ward, the Last Bed

Fourth Floor ('Spell Damage')

St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

Artemis frowned. Frank Longbottom had been one floor above him and he hadn't realized this? Did Neville know that his father had been lying above him all this while?

He was interrupted by Masila, who held out a leg to him. Tied to her talons were two letters. The first one, from Malfoy, was the shortest letter Artemis had ever received.

No thanks.

D.M.

The other one, considerably longer, was from the Dream Team's representative in the Gryffindor-Slytherin partnership.

Dear Fowl,

We need a name for the little group of ours. We can't have Zabini continue to call us the Federation. Talking about that, I didn't know she watched Star Trek. I thought she was pureblood?

Anyway, we have a few ideas. I was pretty keen on the name idea, but haven't got anything to suggest.

Harry says the Alliance, but Ron wants to call it ABHISOTHFH. He says it stands for A Band of Highly Idiotic Students On The Hunt For The Heir. Neville suggested the Truthseekers. You know Neville from St. Mungo's, right?

I was thinking something Slayers, but then remembered Buffy. Vampires can't Petrify, so I thought we should stick with one of the above.

H.G.

P.S. Did Zabini tell you earlier? Ginny is in the group too. Ron let her in. He said you wouldn't mind, but I just thought you should know.

Artemis got another parchment from Blaise and scrawled a quick reply.

Dear Miss Granger,

Firstly, I would like to express my infuriation by all this business of a name for our partnership. It was created for the purpose of tracking down, and, if the need arises, destroying the Heir of Slytherin. I, however, am none too pleased at Blaise's obscure and ridiculous nickname for our group. If you really insist on a name, I suggest Neville's idea. Also, if his cousin's taste in names is anything to go by, Malfoy is going to recommend something along the lines of Weasley's suggestion.

Therefore, the Truthseekers is the only remaining option.

Besides that, I have a theory on the Chamber.

Looking at it logically, the monster is a Petrification-inducing serpent. Why? Simple. The symbol of Slytherin is a snake, and Potter is Hogwarts' only known Parselmouth this generation. Does this clear up the question of why he can hear the monster's voice and others can't? Good.

The serpent is clearly being controlled by another, unknown Parselmouth. Blaise did a search of all the Slytherins' possessions and found nothing incriminating. Theo took the liberty of conjuring a large serpent into our common room at different times of the day. Nobody had any reaction other than screams.

The Heir is cunning, and could be making use of the policy 'fight from within'. I suspect a pureblood, as the Heir would have no use for Muggle-borns and half-bloods. The Heir's victim, when found out, would take the blame for the Heir's dirty work. If the victim is anyone other than a Slytherin, he or she is likely to be under an enchantment. Ingeniously planned, no?

Do me a favour, please, and ask Ginevra Weasley if she remembers where she was at the time of the attacks.

- A.F.

Artemis sent Masila off and sighed, hoping that they had not been delivered by Weasley to the heart of the operation. How was he going to put this next letter? He went back to the C Cube and started typing an e-mail.

Dear Butler,

I apologize for not telling you this before, but it was less serious then.

Under no circumstances must you overreact to this letter.

Basically, there is a secret place in the school called the Chamber of Secrets. It contains a rather deadly monster that can Petrify people. (If you really wish to see what happened, stop by the Hogwarts Hospital Wing.) Someone has opened the Chamber and is out to get anyone not of pure wizarding blood – examples: the Boy-Who-Lived, myself and a girl named Hermione Granger. Everyone else in Slytherin is pureblood.

I assembled a little band of allies some time ago, for the purpose of finding out who the Heir of Slytherin is. The rest of the group is inclined to agree with the ridiculous name thought up by a member. I personally don't mind provided it does not interfere with our work.

You must come to Hogwarts immediately. Go to the Headmaster's office and fill him in on the details of why you are there, your duty as a bodyguard, et cetera. Just make a little speech. Never say anything to the teaching faculty about the Truthseekers. Headmaster Dumbledore WILL attempt to probe your mind, so try not to reveal anything.

I will tell you more when I see you. In the meantime, the Headmaster will have a Portkey arranged for you.

Artemis Fowl the Second

10. 13 p.m.

The Gryffindor Girls' Dormitory

Ginny sat on her bed and pulled out her diary. Quill between her teeth, she felt around in her bag for a spare ink bottle. Popping the cork, she dipped the quill tip in it, opened the diary, and began to write.

'Dear Tom, you'll never guess what happened today!'

Like it had every time Ginny had written in here, the words sank in to the page, only to return in Tom's handwriting.

'I can't guess. I'm not very imaginative and will never know until you tell me.'

Ginny smiled at that.

'Well, some friends of mine formed a group to track down the Heir of Slytherin. They let me in on it.'

There was a moment's pause before Tom wrote back again.

'Good luck to them. Merlin knows I had a hard enough time finding the Heir last time.'

'Who was it?' Ginny wrote. 'Can you tell me?'

'It was a Gryffindor. That's really most of the stuff I remember. Third year. I caught him and he was expelled. So, tell me more about this group? Would I know the ancestors of any of them?'

'Well, there's Draco Malfoy, an absolute git. He's a Slytherin.'

'Why don't you give him a chance? Maybe he's not that bad if he's tracking down the Heir,' wrote Tom.

'I guess I can try. And then there's my overprotective brother.'

'Which one?'

'Oh, yeah, I have lots of them," Ginny near-giggled. 'It's Ron, who let me into the group and" – here Ginny sighed dreamily – 'Harry. Can you imagine it?'

'I think I can. I knew a girl from my time that wouldn't stop stalking me because of her crush on me, which she proclaimed thrice a day.'

'That must have been annoying. OK, and then there's Hermione, you know her, Neville, and Theodore Nott, plus Zabini. She's OK for a Slytherin. Oh, and Artemis Fowl.'

'Must be nice for you," Tom wrote. He was probably amused. 'Both your crushes in one group. And you working in close proximity to them.'

'I think Harry's our leader. Neville suggested calling us the Truthseekers.'

'Interesting name.'

'Yeah, but Hermione says that it's actually Artemis who is the leader. I don't really think they have many leads, though. Artemis figured out that it's a serpent that Petrifies people, but nobody can really do much. All the Muggle-borns are getting really paranoid.'

'The monster was a gigantic spider.'

'Really?'

'Yes. It wasn't a snake. And remember, don't tell anyone about me, OK?'

'OK,' Ginny wrote happily. 'I have to sleep. Goodnight, Tom!'

'Goodnight, Ginny.'

Ginny was halfway to turning out the lights when Tom Riddle possessed her.

The fourth attack took place that night.

7.00 a.m.

Hogwarts Hospital Wing

Blaise was in shock. As was Artemis, a rarity for him.

Nobody had seen this coming. The whole school – the teaching faculty and three students, really -- was in an uproar.

Theo had been Petrified. Thankfully, it was only Petrification, as he had had the sense to cast a long-lasting Haze Smokespell around herself when he saw the monster's shadow. But that wasn't any consolation.

It had been a ghost who found the boy lying on the floor in a dead-end second-floor corridor. The Grey Lady had received no thanks for her help, and had marched off in a huff. Malfoy had made a lame attempt at a joke (ghost PMS) that had not been well received considering the circumstances. Only Artemis, Blaise and Malfoy had been notified.

"But he was pureblood, and a Slytherin," came the whispers from all sides. "Why would he have been Petrified?"

Artemis didn't know, but his gut instinct told him that this meant the Heir was expanding his or her scope. Somehow this didn't make him feel any better. And the fact that it was a prominent Truthseeker didn't help either.

He checked his watch. All he was wearing at that moment was the green cloak, with black sweats underneath it. He knew he looked ridiculous, but nobody commented, too anxious were they about this particular case.

"Blaise?" Artemis said quietly, tapping the girl on the shoulder. "I think Theo wanted to tell you something about me earlier?"

Blaise, teeth still gritted fiercely, nodded.

"Watch." Artemis stared hard at the flower beside Theo's bed, which had been sent by Professor Sprout. The flower levitated slowly and floated into Theo's outstretched hand.

Blaise blinked. "Did you do that?"

"Yes." Artemis yawned. He was dead tired.

"Cool," she grinned weakly. "Hey. Maybe you could call it mental magic."

"Don't be ridiculous."

Sadly for Artemis, it was called mental magic for a long time after that.

And that very moment, Ginny Weasley woke up on the second floor, near a deserted toilet, drenched in sweat and Myrtle's tears.

11.59 p.m.

31st December

Slytherin Boys' Dormitories

There were only two occupants of the boys' dormitory that night. Crabbe and Goyle were trying to pick up a few girls at the New Year's party in the common room. Artemis ignored the noise and laughter, and remained on his bed, meditating. Malfoy was leaning back against his own bed, staring at the same page of his Astronomy textbook, a half-eaten slice of apple pie spilling crumbs on the stone floor.

As the loudest cheer of all erupted from downstairs, Malfoy glanced at his watch and then at the boy sitting on the bed by the empty portrait. He sighed. "Hey, Fowl."

Artemis gave no sign that he had heard.

"Happy New Year," Malfoy tried.

"Likewise."

Malfoy stretched and ate his way through the remainder of the apple pie. "No pithy comeback now?"

Silence.

"Good news for you. I've decided to stop calling you Mudblood – at least until the end of the holidays."

"Your timing is absolutely impeccable. Two days of not calling me a Mudblood," came the bland yet wry answer.

Malfoy managed a weak smirk. That was more like it. A quiet Fowl was a scary Fowl, and, dare he say it, rather worrisome. "That says nothing about Granger, though."

No answer.

Malfoy tried to break the silence once more. "Heard you're training to become an Animagus?"

Still no reply.

"I am, too," Malfoy said in as sinister a tone as possible.

"Really. How very shameful. The son of a prominent Ministry politician trying to become an illegal Animagus."

"I have a way to discern your animal form," Malfoy pressed.

Silence. Fidgeting on Malfoy's part. Then, "What?"

Malfoy smirked. "It's in Malfoy Manor. Recent invention straight out of the Department of Mysteries. Father bought it."

"When are you ever going to stop referring to your father in your every other sentence?"

"At least it's better for some people who never mention their father."

Quiet.

"Or don't you have a father?"

"I have a father, Malfoy. I was not named Artemis Fowl the Second for nothing."

"Oh? What about your mum?"

"And what about yours?"

"You first."

"I'm quite familiar with this childish game, thanks."

"Tell me about your father. If you weren't illegitimate, at least. Or a bast…"

Artemis's eyes flew open.

Malfoy never got to finish that sentence.

Malfoy toppled all the way down the stairs, battered and bruised all over, nearly tripping up the two visitors who were ascending the stairs. The elder of them frowned and knocked the door to the Slytherin boys' dorms. When no reply came, he opened it.

"Mr. Fowl?"

Artemis turned. "Headmaster."

"Your – er, butler is here. He's waiting outside the door. He claimed that you wanted to speak with him?"

"Ah, yes. Thanks for telling me." Artemis swept past Dumbledore and out the doors. His bodyguard was staring down an ant on the wall opposite.

"Good morning, Butler."

The manservant's head swivelled around. "Oh. I didn't expect to see you here, sir. Visiting a friend?"

"Ally," Artemis corrected, rubbing his eyes. He was no early bird. "According to Malfoy."

"You mentioned something about 'telling me more when you saw me'?"

"Ah, yes. It's a rather private place. If you would be so kind as to follow me?" Artemis turned on his heel and, after a long climb, headed for the statue of Nymeria the Nymph. "Asharium."

The hole in the floor appeared once again. Butler eyed the opening warily. "Are you sure this is safe, Artemis?"

"It's perfectly safe, and it's actually rather convenient for me to be here."

They followed the dimly-lit passage until they got to the Lair. Butler blinked. "This is quite a place you have here."

Artemis smiled ruefully. "Yes." He settled himself on the divan. Butler took a seat opposite his employer.

"Well, I did inform you about the Chamber of Secrets. Honestly, there's not that much to tell. In any case, everyone in the school received a death threat earlier in the year. Enemies of the Heir Beware. Some claim it was written in blood, but it was red paint. I checked. The message is still there; everyone has left it untouched.

"We all wanted to locate the Heir. Nobody was getting any nearer to solving this little mystery on their own, so I decided to form an alliance between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Before now, the two have been virtually unmixable. Oil and water. The members of this organization, including myself, call themselves the Truthseekers. They are Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Ronald Weasley, an idiot, Ginevra, Ronald's sister and Hermione Granger, someone who recently set her sights on beating my grades."

"Who else is there?"

"Draco Malfoy, a stuck up, uncultured prat who is under the misguided impression that he is better than me. His hobbies include insulting me and fending off his one-girl fan club. Theodore Nott, a bipolar boy. He's a thief and younger brother to a new Auror – Tobias Nott, a Dark wizard catcher. Blaise Zabini. A pureblood witch who detests Draco Malfoy, her cousin."

Artemis paused for breath and continued, "The Heir of Slytherin has apparently caught wind of this group. I don't know how; Malfoy, despite his evil façade, wouldn't Petrify his cousin. Theodore and Blaise are trustworthy, and the Dream Team – Potter, Weasley and Granger – are extremely righteous and foolhardy people."

Butler nodded. "And you suspect the younger Weasley?"

"The youngest," Artemis corrected. "She normally doesn't do anything. I wouldn't call her harmless, but she wouldn't do something like Petrify her own House ghost. She's under some sort of influence. I don't know how, she just is."

"Is she petite, with long red hair and pale skin?"

"Yes. Did you see her?"

"Yes. She looked rather scared, to tell you the truth."

Artemis smirked. "Half the people who see you are scared of you. It's normal." He went over to the bookshelves and selected the Founders' Diaries. Taking his eagle feather quill and dipping it in ink, he wrote a greeting.

'Good morning.'

'What's so good about mornings?' Salazar wrote grumpily.

'Don't go back to sleep. I have someone I want you to meet.'

'Want me to wake the others?'

'No. Shut up and don't bother Helga. Remember what happened the last time?'

'Ink squirted out of the book from all her writing so fast and furiously. Into your face, right?'

Artemis then realized his mistake.

'WAKE UP, HELGA!'

'SALAZAR OPHICUS SLYTHERIN!'

Ink squirted out of the book from all Helga's writing so fast and furiously – right into Artemis's face.

"ARGH!"

As Artemis fell back, he threw the book in some random direction. He did a Scouring Charm on his face, and was instantly cleaned by a lot of pink, soapy bubbles. Wiping his eyes, he saw Butler staring at the book.

"What the…?"

"Precisely," muttered a very annoyed protagonist.

"You wanted to tell me about something?"

"Ah, yes. Here's the deal. Everyone in Hogwarts received a death threat from an individual called the Heir of Slytherin. Some time later, they were Petrified and nearly murdered. The monster, which is a serpent, is slithering about the school attempting to cleanse the school of Mudblood filth," Artemis gripped the edge of the divan, "as the more prejudiced Slytherins like to put it."

"Like Malfoy?"

"He'll live. Probably."

"I've never known you to explode like that."

"I've done worse. It doesn't matter. Anyhow," Artemis continued, "as a Slytherin, we assumed ourselves to be safe from the monster's reach. This was not so. Theo was found Petrified, and his family is one of the oldest purebloods. Nobody's safe in the school any more, and some even set up a betting pool on who will be the next victim. Accio Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them." Butler ducked as the large tome sailed over his head. "I've read all the way through Section A. If you want to chat to Salazar Slytherin himself, write in the diary you're holding."

Artemis started on B, his eyelids drooping as he sped-read through the first four pages. Suddenly, on the fifth page, he sat up sharply, eyes over-bright. "I have it. The creature's a Basilisk."

Artemis showed the page to Butler. "It kills people by looking them in the eye…and it's no wonder Potter can hear it, because he talks to snakes. It travels through the pipes and is controlled by the Heir. It all fits perfectly." It was so simple. He wondered how come he hadn't found it before. Long-term exposure to all those mindless twits in Hogwarts, he supposed.

"But why hasn't anyone died?"

"Because no one did look it in the eye."

Artemis fell asleep in the middle of his words, collapsing on the divan.

The weeks progressed up to the morning of February 14th, a Sunday. Aside from the Basilisk hint, Artemis had found no leads. Artemis hoisted his black bag over his shoulder. He would be thirteen on the eighteenth, and was in a fairly good mood that day. The good mood was promptly destroyed when he and Butler walked through the double doors of the Great Hall and were sprayed with luridly pink heart-shaped confetti.

"Lockhart," Artemis muttered angrily in Gnommish to his bodyguard. "Damn him."

Butler was shocked. In all his years, Master Artemis had never used profanity. Never with a capital N.

The duo picked their way across the confetti-strewn floor, Artemis noting the flower-covered wall. Very strange flowers, they were. Each of them shouted repeatedly, "HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, HOGWARTS" in Lockhart's most enthusiastic tones. The pale blue of the ceiling infuriated Artemis even more, for a reason he couldn't explain. All the tables had been draped with pink tablecloths, lined with a lacy white material.

Blaise looked sickened and silent, and was turning the walls to black with her wand. The other Slytherins were gagging and making fun of the Defence professor. Artemis took out his wand and helped Blaise with the black. When he noticed that the efforts had been speeded up considerably, he spotted the other Slytherins helping out, Malfoy included. Glancing up at the High Table, he spotted McGonagall and Snape aiding their respective Houses.

"Good of you," Artemis muttered to Crabbe.

Crabbe shrugged. "OK. Bright blue we can take, but pink is stretching the limits."

"So it can speak after all," Artemis thought.

"STOP! STOP!" Lockhart shouted. "The walls! No!"

"Take your seats, please," called Dumbledore, smiling mischievously.

The Slytherins did so grumpily. Artemis was formulating a plan in his mind. It differed considerably from his crimes. Suffice to say it involved Butler, a few throwing knives and Lockhart.

"He looks like…" Blaise whispered, pointing at Snape.

"Like he just drank a bottle of Skele-Gro, complete with the bottle itself?" Artemis supplied.

"Happy Valentine's Day!"