Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this Fan Fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the characters in this Fan Fiction are from: Young Wizards Series, Artemis Fowl Series, and Harry Potter Series.

New York City, USA

A blustery wind swept through the towering skyscrapers, whipping a girl's rich, black hair around her face. Nita's stubborn chin was jutted out, and her steely gray eyes stared, unblinking, into empty space. Or rather, she stared into what any regular person would think was empty space. In actuality, Nita was awaiting her partner, Kit, who was returning from a solo mission.

Nita, sensing the eminent return of her partner, stepped forward. The air in front of her shimmered slightly, and Kit appeared out of thin air. Stepping out of the evergreen thicket in which the world-gate was hidden, Kit flashed Nita the smile that had recently began to make her heart do flip-flops.

"How was it?" Nita asked. There was no need to emphasize on what it was.

"Fine I guess." Kit replied, tossing a lock of wavy brown hair out of his eyes. "The krebes are almost finished with the New Cities. It's really amazing how fast those little guys work. It has only been one month since we left, and the city is almost as prosperous as before. I don't think the Krebes will ever be able to make good shish, though." Turning, the tall, attractive boy began to talk mind to mind. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Nita replied, her mental voice as icy as her physical. "As fine as I can be, knowing that the Powers That Be sent my partner off on a mission without me!"

"Oh, Nita, I'm sure they have a good reason!" Kit whispered, his physical voice cracking with emotion "They just haven't told you what it is yet."

Fowl Manor, Ireland

The clack of computer keys was so loud that it almost drowned out the classical music playing in the background. A pale, vampiric boy of about sixteen let his hands run rampant over the keyboard. Text moved across the screen, moving so quickly it seemed a blur. Artemis Fowl settled his gaze on a small, nearly invisible link. Even for his trained genius, the link had been extremely difficult to find. The difficulty had been compounded, of course, by the fact that Artemis did not know what he was looking for.

Two years before, he had begun having dreams. These dreams were not of the irrational sort he had usually, because there seemed to be a pattern in them. Coupled with the over-night aging of his manservant Butler, Artemis had concluded quite quickly that the dreams were trying to tell him something.

Once he had begun searching for answers, random words began to pop into his mind. BeWaKell, Haven, and D'arveit were not words he had heard before, and yet they seemed all too much a part of his sub-conscious. There was nothing he could connect these words to. No books he had read, no criminal undertakings had them as passwords, there was absolutely no way Artemis could trace the origins of these words. Except, of course, for the dreams.

Once a link between his dreams and the words had been established, Artemis searched even more fervently for answers. School was set aside, and, amazingly, Artemis delayed all planned criminal activities. All of Artemis's time was dedicated to finding out what these strange dreams meant.

Now, after all the searching, Artemis could find out what he had forgotten. A sense of mounting excitement choked him. All it would take was a simple click of the mouse to revel the truth. But deep inside, Artemis was not sure whether or not he wanted to know. Shaking off this uncharacteristic doubt, Artemis left clicked.

An Internet site popped up.

You have forgotten, but now you will remember. The Fairie Folk are real, and their secrets are yours.

The screen blinked, and another stream of text flooded the screen. The system was running a systems check, but it was unnecessary. Artemis's ruby lips curled into a smirk. They thought they could out-smart him, but they were wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

London, England

Herminie Granger's wavy brown hair was pulled into a sleek bun. A shimmery, silver dress hung perfectly on her willowy frame, and her usual prim-and-proper expression was twisted into a grimace. It was quite clear that she was not enjoying this party in the least.

"Herminie, really! It isn't that bad! In fact, it's bloody awesome!" squeaked Ron, one of Herminie's best friends. His uncontrollable red hair was rumpled, and his navy suit jacket was wrinkled.

"Maybe not for you." Replied Herminie affably "Ron will you ever learn the spell that unwrinkles your clothes?" Waving a cedar stick, Herminie muttered a little incantation. Blue sparks seemed to float out of the tip of the wand, covered Ron's outfit, and straightened his bedraggled clothes.

"Herminie! We're going t be seventh years soon. You need to learn to enjoy these things." Ron glanced at the obviously flustered girl and added "Or at least look like you do!" He gave her a quick smile and turned to go back on to the dance floor.

Herminie glanced around the dance floor, desperately searching for a friendly face. She had never before been to a mixer, and she did not understand how the boys could adapt so quickly. Seeing Harry gazing into the eyes of a gyrating sixth-year, Herminie frowned. "Oh! That's right! They're to busy talking to girls to realize they're not having a good time!"

Herminie's frown deepened. If she did not possess the self-control that she did, Herminie would run up to that girl and slap her. Herminie knew girls only flirted with Harry because he was famous. Unfortunately, Harry was to naïve to understand that. It was a pity really. He was to busy paying attention to girls who only liked him for his fame to notice the one girl who liked him for him.

Sighing, Herminie settled into a plush loveseat. Crossing her arms, she stared unimpressed at the lavish decorations. All the time that had been wasted decorating the Great Hall for this dance could have been put to better use. Really, what do the boys see in it?