Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Feeling extremely annoyed, Artemis turned his head to the source of the noise. In the background, in his sleep-inducing monotone, Professor Binns unsuspectingly droned on about a topic that Artemis could care less about, having learned and analyzed everything back in his first year.
Ah. Draco. Artemis raised an eyebrow as he made eye contact. Draco was holding a piece of paper under the table between his fingers. Obviously, a message, but how secure was it? Currently, Draco was sitting on the other side of the bench in an attempt to distance himself from Artemis as a way to lower suspicion, and passing notes was an easy way to get caught – though perhaps not by a teacher as unobservant as Professor Binns.
Before he could react, however, he found the paper in his palm. Opening it, Artemis saw…a very poorly drawn picture accompanied by hate mail.
Or, rather, a secret message disguised as such. It was written with normal ink and paper, so it would not be detected by magical means, and the encryption was admittedly extremely well done, so human spies would be none the wiser.
When will we find the spies?
Artemis thought about it – as soon as possible was the best answer, but they had to figure out the safest plan for secrecy first. He sent back a polite, but thinly veiled threat letter – a reasonably in-character reaction to provocation from someone of his caliber. Certain letters which spelled out the true message were written a bit more sloppily than others – which could obviously be attributed to hasty writing, so it would not be easy to accuse him of anything. Even the most advanced spells could not automatically translate something that was already in a readable language. When convenient. We need more information first.
Only those who truly knew him and his mild obsessive-compulsive level of neatness (which was absolutely not a bad thing as it did not interfere with his life – he was completely capable of poor penmanship if the time called for it) would realize how out-of-character that was.
Back and forth they went. Dobby says father gets many letters from school owls, so it's probably people, not a spell. Don't know senders, never got to see.
Well, then, another mystery on top of the Black sent a message back. There still might be non-human trackers also. To be safe, we need to use different communication methods. If people only, Confundus Charm. On everyone if needed.
A few seconds later, Draco responded. What about spells?
Artemis thought about it. That will be much more difficult. We'll figure something out. Surreptitiously ask teachers.
The reply: But until we catch the spies I still have to be a jerk. Sorry.
Artemis closed the connection and sighed. He felt slightly bad for the other boy, and was glad that his own father had never been so twisted in his ideals and oppressive in the discipline of his offspring.
Winter rolled around, but the tension still had not ceased – Sirius Black was still at large. Around this time, the Gryffindors approached Artemis again, though alone this time (they still did not know about Draco) and asked him if he wanted to go to Hogsmeade with them. "Someone has to make sure you eat," they joked.
"Shut it," had been his rather indelicate response, but he consented.
The trip had quickly gotten boring. Excusing himself, he left their group for a little while, claiming he needed some fresh air. He wandered over to the Shrieking Shack – a lonely, rickety house sitting on an isolated hill, surrounded by a wrought-iron fence that was in dire need of repair before it succumbed to the heavy rust. Artemis took into careful consideration the flaking paint, rotting boards, missing shingles, and grimy, cracked windows. If it truly was the most haunted house in Britain, he wouldn't be surprised – it certainly had that look to it.
He leaned on a more steady part of the railing and hoped it didn't fall over. He felt a movement next to him – a ghost, perhaps? No, ghosts were not invisible, just translucent. There was actually a slight, shimmering disturbance in the air, like a heat haze, only it was winter. So, the only possible explanation was –
"You don't have to bother to shield. I know that you're there."
He heard a tiny whisper that sounded strangely like "D'Arvit." The fairy did not lower his shield, in case other people walked by, but asked, "How did you know?"
Artemis grinned. "It's strange how being invisible makes one so blind. Did you really think that someone like me would fail to pay attention to details, such as a heat haze in the middle of winter?"
"Good point."
"Who are you talking to, Artemis?" Granger called. She and Weasley were making their way up the slope.
How terribly inconvenient. Artemis did not show his annoyance, however. He simply smiled and said, "Why, my fairy friends of course. Can't you see them?" he gestured in the opposite direction from the haze. They stared at him like he was crazy.
"I don't see anything…" Weasley said. Granger slapped him.
"He's being sarcastic. Fairies migrate, Ronald – they hate the cold," she said. "The only things left around here are ghosts. And those stupid Dementors, too, but that's a different story."
"Well, sorry," Ron grunted.
Artemis grinned. "Don't wait for me. I'm just being Irish."
Granger laughed. "And I thought you didn't have a sense of humor."
"I do, I do. Unfortunately, many of the poor souls in the world find it too elevated for their liking." It was not exactly a lie – Artemis had been extremely surprised when no one understood his various pseudonyms. Seriously – "Dr. F. Roy Dean Schlippe" publishing a book on psychology – that could not have been any more obvious. And yet, even the supposedly greatest minds in the world read that without paying one second thought to the author.
Ron seemed overwhelmed at the onslaught of advanced vocabulary. Hermione stared incredulously at his bemused expression.
"I'm sorry – he's a bit thick today," she told Artemis, sighing.
"Just today?" Artemis asked, trying to suppress an amused grin.
"Are you calling me dumb?" Weasley whined, finally catching on.
Hermione slapped him again. "Ron, if you're even wondering about that it means you're right."
"Huh?" Weasley asked, completely confused, again. "Wait a second –"
Artemis sniggered. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Artemis interrupted her, knowing fully well what she was about to say. In any event, there were more pressing matters at hand – he had not forgotten the elf floating next to him.
"There's no need to apologize a second time, Hermione. But I think that both of you have better things to do than stand here and argue with me." At least, that did the trick, for the two immediately spun around and marched back to the main street.
Once Weasley and Granger were a safe distance away, Artemis turned back to the still fluttering Trouble Kelp. "I apologize for the delay. Now, was there something you wanted?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact."
"I would ask you to resettle into the visible spectrum, but I'm afraid that it would present several difficulties should more people come."
"Quite beating around the bush, Mud Boy, and answer the question."
"Listen, if it's about last summer, I dearly apologize. I was young, greedy, and selfish. At least I returned your precious blueprints – and now, with both of my parents monitoring me, I should not be bothering you again."
"Maybe. But someone is bothering the People again. And you're the only possible suspect."
Artemis thought. If a fairy couldn't be a suspect, and they had to track him down, as the only human smart enough to know…
"I presume, then, that a human has been trading with the People?"
"Right you are. Pretty impressive deduction skills you got there – or it would be if both of us didn't know that you were behind it. There are a few people belowground who want a short word with you. Right now."
"I suppose that based on the actions from my previous year, I won't get any consideration?"
"You got that right."
"Aren't you afraid that people will notice me missing?"
"That's why it will be nice and short, Mud Boy. And we've got a team of nice and charged fairies full of mesmer and mind wipes in case you never come back."
Trouble Kelp didn't look like he was joking.
Artemis awoke in a small, cramped room. Of all of the interrogation rooms they could choose from in the world…they had to choose this one. They certainly weren't building for comfort. Then again, this was built for fairy-sized captives, not humans.
Root was there, chewing away at a cigar and red in the face. "Right, Fowl. Now spill."
"You wouldn't believe me even if I do say that I'm innocent," Artemis said. It was true. He had no idea what the fairies were angry about…certainly, he had repaid what was due during last summer's little game. How were they going to find out –
"And that's why we have proof," another figure emerged, carrying electrodes and a glass suction cup. It was Foaly, and Artemis did not think he was going to like...whatever the technical genius centaur had in store for him. "Relax, Mud Boy, and this might not hurt…too much." Before Artemis could react, the suction cups had already been rammed over his eyes. The People wouldn't be too cruel or inefficient to torture for information that they can easily gather by other methods. There must be some sort of sedative in the rubber seal.
The last thing he heard before he blacked out for the second time was "The sedative's in the rubber seal…they never see it coming."
You wish, Foaly.
Trouble Kelp had been quite glad that the events from last summer had not exactly put a damper on his career. He was too valuable to the LEP anyway – one crazy Mud Boy was no reason to slap him down.
When Chix Verbil and Grub Kelp had found a bunch of B'wa Kell goblins using softnose lasers equipped with Mud Man batteries, they had nearly gotten themselves killed trying to stop the attack and report it. Trouble may have found his brother annoying, but, as he had always been reminded, he had promised Mummy, and, well…In any event, if Fowl had something to do with his brother's near-death, he would pay.
So, of course he would volunteer to bring that kid down for questioning. Which he did.
"What is it that the thing does, exactly?" Trouble Kelp asked, poking at the machine. Foaly slapped his hand away.
"It's a Retimager. Everything that someone sees has a permanent etching on the retina. Millions of little needles are contained in the cup to try to find a match for our image. That's the beauty of this baby – even if he got mind-wiped, we'll know if he's lying. For every point that is a match, we get a hit. About 200 hits is normal. Anything above that and he's seen a goblin before," the centaur explained. "Aren't I a genius?"
"I don't know…" Root goaded, with a wink at him. "That Koboi girl is pretty smart too."
That provoked a lengthy argument about how Foaly thought the LEP was in great danger, using too many products from the same company.
"Yeah, well…just scan the damn thing or however you work it and we'll see if he's lying or not."
Foaly scanned several pictures of a goblin onto the machine for a match. The hit result was 186 – negative. Softnose lasers – 164. Still negative. Foaly tried some other images, too. 158 – 146 – the numbers just got lower and lower. Foaly sighed and removed the suction cup.
"Unless he's scrubbed his retinas or something…he's innocent. Fowl's actually telling the truth. He's never traded with Goblins or the B'wa Kell."
Root grumbled and put his hand on his chin. "Wake him up."
"What?" Trouble nearly jumped out of his seat.
"I said, wake him up! I don't know about you, but Fowl could be useful in this case."
Trouble bristled. Normally, he didn't stand up to his superiors, unlike Holly Short, but the Mud Boy was an exception. "I don't like that idea. Give him any reason to hold it over us and he'll definitely do it, Commander. He's going to be a bigger problem than the goblins if we ask him for help!"
"Well, we're running out of options here. Maybe one of those wizard friends of his knows something about it. He can help track them down," Root sighed.
Trouble groaned. They were cornered and he knew it.
Fowl woke up, straightened his tie, and looked smug. "Now, may I be of service? I assume you still want something from me or I would be regaining consciousness in my own bed with no memory of this occasion. I assume that there are humans trading with the People, obviously, and you want help to track them down because you know that I am not guilty. Am I right?"
"Don't get too cocky, Mud Boy," Root snarled, "but you're right. A goblin gang called the B'wa Kell have graduated from petty crime to an all-out war on the police thanks to batteries traded from humans."
"I suppose that Captain Kelp assumed that it was me," he stated serenely. "Since I have been eliminated from the list of suspects, you have then moved on to the rest of the wizarding population, and want me to find out who the real human contact is, and, more importantly, if he knows about the existence of fairies."
"You're as smart as they say, Mud Boy," Root grunted.
"But…" The Mud Boy was humming with a thoughtful expression. Immediately Trouble knew what was coming. He just knew it. The Mud Boy does nothing without getting something in return. He could see Fowl's mind racing.
"But what?"
"But…I require something in return."
"I knew it!" Trouble raged. "Let me guess – technology? Or – "
Artemis gave the elfin Captain a glare. "It is nothing of the sort, Captain Kelp. One of my friends is being spied on. Help me find out who is tracking him, because they obviously are watching me as well."
Trouble looked at Commander Root. What was he going to do about this? On one hand, Fowl seemed sincere enough. On the other hand, it could just be some other scheme. Finally, the Commander grunted and extended his hand. "Deal."
They shook – another historical moment for fairies and humans, and a horrible moment for Trouble.
"By the way…I think that it would be a good idea if you take me back to the surface now – you can always contact Butler, though. Someone's bound to notice me missing. I'll keep in touch with my laptop, of course."
"How does that thing even work? My sensors picked up the sheer amount of excess energy radiating from that school of yours," Foaly said. "The circuits would have blown by now, unless –"
"– Unless someone converted them to run on magical energy instead," Fowl said smugly.
Koboi Laboratories
"Imagine their faces when they actually find out who's behind this…respected inventor, engineer, businesswoman, genius, and scientist…Opal Koboi."
"Did you mention genius?"
"It was in there somewhere."
"Pretty soon, they'll see the fruits of our labors."
"I can't wait. Root will definitely pay for this. Not that they will."
"I'm afraid they might. Some LEP officers watching the traffic managed to catch a few smugglers."
"They're only batteries. It's not as if they'll care."
"Unfortunately, they will. Those goblins were also carrying softnose lasers."
"Those IDIOTS! I TOLD them not to!"
"It's all right…we already have plenty of batteries anyway. By the time they finally realize it…it'll be too late. Don't fret, dear Cudgeon."
A/N: While writing the scene where Artemis was talking to Trouble Kelp, I imagined that it would be like England from Axis Powers Hetalia talking to his "invisible fairy friends." ^^ Of course, Artemis isn't as silly, and the fairies are definitely not there to make him feel better…but still! It's an entirely new way of looking at our evil child genius.
By the way, thanks for all the suggestions about the Patronuses and Animagi. The polls are still open so keep listing ideas if you like. Unfortunately, I can't make Artemis' Patronus Butler because…well, that idea's already taken. I've read The Family Name, which anyone would know is probably the mother of all HP/AF crossover fanfics (that was what inspired me to write this in the first place, as well as the fact that TFN was not updating), and I feel that I would be doing Elbereth in April a bit of a disservice by taking that idea.