The Family Name: Year Four
By Elbereth in April
Chapter 4
"Today," Moody announced in class, "I'll be putting the Imperius Curse on each of you, to demonstrate its power. You try and resist it, understand?"
"But—"
"Yes, I've cleared it with Dumbledore," he growled. "You don't want to wait until someone's cast it on you to find out what it feels like. So line up at the front here."
"You won't make us do anything too bad, will you?" Pansy asked meekly.
Moody gave his version a grin. "Of course not."
No one felt reassured. But they lined up as ordered.
He started with Crabbe. "Imperio!"
"Fight it, Vince," Goyle whispered.
But he couldn't. No one could. Crabbe was forced to do jumping jacks. Goyle hopped around the room on one foot, backwards.
'That's not so bad,' Artemis debated. 'How far would Moody go in class? He hates me. How scared of Butler is he? Would that stay his hand? If I walked out, what would he do? This is an important spell to experience, he's right about that. Where else would I get a chance to experiment with it? The only one I'd trust to cast it on me is Butler, and he can't. Madame Hooch, maybe, but she hasn't been given legal clearance to cast it. So, stay or go?'
Marie took off her shoes and put them on her hands. Pansy kissed Goyle. She blushed deeply once she was unthralled. Zabini stood on his head and sang the ABCs.
'Stay or go?' Draco worried, biting at a hangnail on his thumb. 'This man hates me. He'll take advantage of this, surely. What would he make me do?' He glanced over at Fowl. 'Fowl's still here. I wonder what he's thinking?'
Eva did some sort of strange dance—"Walk Like an Egyptian," maybe. Millie played one-sided pattycake and then sucked on her thumb.
"I'll watch your back if you watch mine," Malfoy blurted, just loud enough for Fowl to hear.
Artemis turned to look at him. "I beg your pardon?"
"If he makes you do something awful, I'll cast Finite Incantatum. You do the same for me."
Artemis considered this. "For the honor of Slytherin?"
Draco nodded.
"Deal," Fowl said, and stepped up for his turn.
Moody's expression was carefully neutral as Artemis stared him in the eyes. The man raised his wand. "Imperio!"
It was an incredible feeling. Artemis had already been standing deliberately loosely, indifferently casual, but now he relaxed even further. A rush of warmth ran through him, leaving a vague happy feeling, and erasing thought. Everyone in the room faded away.
He heard Moody's voice, echoing around through his head. "Say I must listen to my teacher, for he knows best," it commanded. "I must listen to my teacher, for he knows best."
But Artemis Fowl had never had a head empty of thought, and he didn't like it. He repressed the happiness easily enough, and ignored the voice—it couldn't know as much as he did anyway—and concentrated on putting his thoughts back into order properly.
"Say it," Moody ordered again.
Draco kept his hand on his wand. So far, though, Moody wasn't doing anything too terrible, although it would be humiliating to say.
"Say I must listen to Professor Moody for he knows best," Moody insisted, louder now, sounding frustrated. The Slytherins all shuffled, or quietly snorted, or regarded their teacher with contempt. As if!
"Say it! Now!" Moody roared.
'What an imbecile,' Artemis mused as his brain returned completely to normal. His eyes cleared, meeting Moody's square-on once again. "I'll say no such thing."
Moody regarded him, disgruntled and a bit wary. He tried to look as if he didn't mind. "Well, look at that, you lot. Fowl fought it and beat it. I hope the rest of you were paying attention. Right, last one, Malfoy, let's go."
Artemis and Malfoy switched places with a significant glance.
"Imperio!"
Draco's eyes glazed a bit. His mind felt empty, distant. Everything was different, but it felt pleasant. Someone was holding a little glass bottle in front of him. It was filled with a brownish liquid resembling tea. "Drink this," a voice ordered, bouncing around the walls of his empty mind.
Draco's hand lifted a few inches, but stopped. That wasn't his father's voice. He didn't have to obey anyone but Lucius.
"Drink this," the voice repeated firmly.
Still, the voice seemed nice enough. His arm raised some more.
Wait, though. Wasn't he supposed to be fighting something? His hand stopped as he tried to figure it out, but thoughts wouldn't come. His arm stayed mid-way risen up.
"Drink!"
His hand shook, but started moving again. His fingers neared the bottle.
Artemis Fowl sat down, let the desk conceal his wand, and whispered, "Oscillum Arma."
Draco's arms started flailing about wildly. He knocked the bottle out of the astonished Moody's hands. It hit the floor and broke. As the liquid puddled on the floor, a dark blue mist steamed up from it.
Furious, Moody lifted the curse and looked around the room at everyone. Artemis's hands were folded on the desk in front of him. His expression was of innocent surprise. Moody snarled, sure that Fowl had done something. But he had no proof, and he didn't want to admit he didn't know what had just happened. Instead, he quickly got rid of the bottle and potion with a cleaning spell, then said gruffly, "Well, you fought it, Malfoy. Now go sit down with the others."
Draco breathed a sigh of relief and headed to his seat. He couldn't help worry and wonder, however, what had been in the bottle. What had Moody been trying to get him to do? And why him? Did the man hate him the most, or was it because he had gone last?
The rest of the class period, they took notes. Once class was dismissed, Draco hesitated, then stopped in front of Fowl's desk. "Thanks."
Artemis nodded, gathering his things. "You know…"
Malfoy sighed. "Yeah, Fowl. One-time thing, we're not allies. Blah blah blah."
"Yes. Well." He stood, bag in hand. Before he could find words to dismiss the blond, Draco was sweeping past him to the doorway.
"Come on, Crabbe, Goyle." They followed him out.
"Fowl," Moody called as Artemis reached the door. He turned around, eyebrows raised. "I'll be watching you," Moody said.
Artemis smiled. "It won't make a difference." He saw Moody's face turn red before he made his own dramatically sweeping exit. Sometimes a Snape-Exit was just called for.
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Butler had finished reviewing the self-defense moves they'd learned last year and had moved on to new things. Crabbe and Goyle were quite excited by the physical fitness regime Butler showed them. Others were less than thrilled, but everyone respected Butler. The two boys were the last to leave, as they'd stayed to talk, so they were witnesses to Hermione bouncing in and up to Butler with her HELP badges. They lingered to watch.
"I'm promoting HELP—the House Elf League of Protection! It's an important cause. We support not just elves, but all magical creatures who are treated unfairly, like werewolves. Two Sickles buys a badge, and the money goes to our leaflet campaign."
"Did she say all that in one breath?" Vince whispered.
"How many members do you have so far?" Butler asked.
"Eight. Artemis is Vice-President, you know…"
Yes, he'd heard his employer's complaints.
"Ron and Harry, of course, and Neville…"
He'd heard that Neville had joined just to shut her up.
"Blaise Zabini, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black."
Lupin and Black? Too funny! She must have written to them. Butler cleared his throat. "Certainly, I'll join." He dug out the two Sickles from his pocket. "Have you tried your Head of House? I think she'd be amenable."
Lately, she'd been nagging all the teachers about lesson plans.
"Good idea."
"And you should hit up Dumbledore, too," Greg said. "If you could get him to join, it'd be something of a—a coup, don't you think?"
Hermione smiled brightly. "Yes, yes. Good. I'll talk to them at dinner. What about you two?"
Crabbe shook his head. "Draco would never let us live it down."
Hermione looked determined. "Then I'll work on him first."
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"Ow!"
"Watch where you're going, Weasley-girl."
"You're the one reading while you're walking, Malfoy." She rubbed her arm where they'd collided.
Draco sighed. "We didn't hit each other that hard."
"What are you reading, anyway?"
"Oh, um…" Draco tried to cover the title with his hand.
"Is that about animagi?"
"Yes," Draco admitted. It was impossible to lie with Tales of Animagi in hand, after all. "I was just wondering what animal I would be if I was one, that's all."
Ginny smiled. "I've wondered that before. It'd be fun to be a bird and fly around. Or a big hunting cat."
Draco cocked his head. "I can see you as a tiger—your hair wouldn't even have to change color."
She thumped his shoulder. "Ha ha. I can see you as a weasel—an albino one."
"Ha ha." He smiled, too.
"Uh oh, here comes Hermione."
Draco's eyebrows raised. "I thought you two were friends."
"Yes, but—she'll ask me to join HELP again."
Draco smirked.
"What are you grinning about? She'll ask you, too."
By then Hermione was rapidly bearing down on them. "I'm not staying for a chat," Draco said. He shoved his book in his bag and started to walk away.
Ginny grabbed his arm. "I'm not suffering alone," she hissed, with some glee.
"Oi!"
Too late. They'd been cornered.
"Hi! Studying?" she greeted them.
"Yes, I've got lots to do, so goodbye, Granger," Draco tried valiantly.
Hermione blocked his path. "I wanted to talk to you about HELP."
Ginny nudged him in the ribs with her elbow.
"I'm not linking the Malfoy name with this new age rubbish. And no slipping off, Weasley-girl!"
Hermione turned big eyes on Ginny. "You'll join, won't you?"
Ginny groaned and gave in to the inevitable. "Fine. But I don't have two Sickles on me, you'll have to wait til we're back in the dorms."
"Fine, that's fine," Hermione gushed happily. "Now, Malfoy, don't talk like that. This is a worthwhile fight for justice."
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "They like being servants, Granger. Get over it. You're becoming a laughing-stock."
"They said the same kind of thing about—about abolitionists and suffragettes! But progress, change for the better, only happens through those willing to go against the majority and do what is necessary for their cause, no matter what!"
"Abolistinists and suff—who?"
"Professor McGonagall joined at supper! I was going to ask Professor Dumbledore, too, but he wasn't there."
"They fought against slavery and for women's votes," Ginny explained. "We learned about them in Muggle Studies."
"Stick with asking Muggles to join, Granger, you'll get a lot farther," Draco said. "Now I have to go. I don't know how many books I'll have to look through to find it—it's a lot harder than I'd thought it would be," his voice trailed off as he thought. What was the one thing Granger was really good for? Research! Before he'd gotten distracted by the animagus book, he'd been looking for something else entirely.
"What are you going on about, Malfoy?"
Draco ignored Weasley, focusing on Granger. "Help me find every brown potion that smokes blue when it's dropped on the ground and I'll join," Draco told her.
"Deal!"
"Why don't you just ask Snape?"
Draco looked uncomfortable. "I don't want to involve him in this." The professor would want the reason for the question, and would confront Moody over it, maybe even Dumbledore. It would get back to his father. Draco didn't want that.
"Why do you want to know?" Ginny's eyes were narrowed.
"It's just a project I'm working on. No big deal."
Her eyes narrowed further. "Liar."
"It doesn't matter, so long as he joins," Hermione said cheerfully. "Come on, let's get a table, put our bags down, and then we'll look for books."
"OK."
"You don't mind if I share your table, right?" Ginny asked as she followed them. It was clear she would sit with them even if he said no, so he just shrugged.
"Whatever, Weasley-girl."
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That night, Artemis again looked for an adequate, secret place to turn into an alchemical lab. He decided the dungeons wouldn't do. "But I've discovered the next place to look for a clue, for the messages we've been tracking," Artemis told Butler. "Once the foreign students come next week, the chaos should be sufficient to sneak out one day."
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October 30th everyone put on their best robes, did their hair just so, and waited for the arrival of the other magic students. The professors lined them up on the lawn, where they fidgeted and whispered.
"Do you suppose there'll be some cute boys?" Eva whispered to Marie.
Marie grinned at her slyly. "I dare say."
"Just what we need, more competition," Zabini groaned softly to Artemis.
Draco, overhearing, whispered, "Aren't you man enough to handle it, Zabini?"
Blaise scowled, but before he could respond, Dumbledore called out, "The delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"
Everyone looked around eagerly.
"What is that? A flying house?"
"No, it's a carriage—look at the winged horses!"
"It's the size of a house…"
It was, indeed, with a dozen horses as big as elephants. It approached rapidly, and landed with a large crash of hooves on the ground.
From it emerged a woman—an extremely large woman, as big as Hagrid. Dumbledore started clapping, so the students did, too. The woman approached and Dumbledore kissed her hand. "My dear Madame Maxime," he greeted her.
Now her pupils were coming out of the carriage. They numbered roughly a dozen boys and girls, all in their late teens, wearing robes of fine silk, looking up at Hogwarts apprehensively.
"They look nervous," Pansy said.
"Wouldn't you be?" Millicent replied.
The party retired to the castle to warm up. The Hogwarts contingent continued to wait for Durmstrang. Hagrid was delegated to take care of the horses.
"I'm cold," Marie complained. Blaise put his arm around her.
Then they heard a strange rumbling sound from the lake. A whirlpool appeared there, swirling—and from it rose a skeletal ship. It glided across the water to anchor by the bank. They watched the silhouettes of people disembark and walk toward them. They wore bulky fur coats.
A tall, white-haired man with a goatee led the teenagers. "Dumbledore!" he called. "How are you?"
"Blooming, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore called back.
"Dear old Hogwarts," Karkaroff said. He smiled, but his eyes were cold and shrewd. "Viktor, come into the warmth," he beckoned one of his students. "He has a slight cold," the man explained.
The boy came forward. He had a prominent curved nose and thick black eyebrows.
"That's Viktor Krum!" Eva gasped. "I didn't know he went to Durmstrang! Oh, my brother is going to be so excited!"
Most of the boys were looking rather starstruck, in fact—and a large number of girls, as well.
"He is one of the best Seekers in the world," Crabbe said a bit dreamily. "Do you think we could get an autograph?"
Draco noticed many students frantically searching their pockets for quills with the same idea. "Give him some time to settle in first," he said. "You don't want to be part of the common mob."
The Hogwarts students followed the Durmstrang group into the castle to the Great Hall. The Beauxbatons teens had sat at the Ravenclaw table. They looked glum and chilled, clutching scarves and shawls around themselves. The Durmstrang students gathered around the door, wondering where to sit. After a moment, they headed for the Slytherin table.
"They're coming here!" Goyle exclaimed excitedly.
"Make room," Marie ordered. "Give them space to sit."
With a great deal of satisfaction, they did so. Krum reached the table and sat down directly in front of Malfoy. The others settled around him.
"So. Welcome and all that," Draco said.
Krum nodded. "Thanks," said the boy sitting next to him. "Impressive place, this. Like the ceiling."
"Are those plates real gold?" asked a girl across from Artemis, tilting it back and forth and looking at her reflection in it.
Draco nodded nonchalantly.
"I'm Nadya," the girl said, setting the plate down. She took careful note of them for the first time. "Vat year are you all?"
"Fourth."
"Ah. You seemed a bit young. No offense."
Zabini smirked at Malfoy. Draco just raised an eyebrow at the girl. "Talk to Fowl then. He's at least smarter than you, if not older."
"Are you insulting her?" the boy growled.
Malfoy waved a hand. "Far from it. Fowl's simply a genius."
The scowling boy looked around. "Vich one of you is Fowl?"
Artemis sighed. "I am Artemis Fowl the Second. You are?"
"Dimitar Radeva."
"Oh, don't cause a fuss, Dimi," Nadya said, laying a hand on his arm.
"I saw you at the World Cup," Eva addressed Krum. "That was a lovely Wronski Feint."
"Thank you."
"It must be great fun, being a famous Quidditch player," Zabini sighed somewhat enviously.
"I don't vorry about the fame. I just vant to play Quidditch."
Just then all the Beaubatons students stood. Looking around, Draco realized the professors had just entered. When Madame Maxime sat at the staff table, her pupils sat, too.
Dumbledore spoke as the Hall quieted. "Good evening," he began, greeting their guests and welcoming them. "The Tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. Now eat, make yourselves at home!"
The plates filled. The Durmstrang delegation removed their fur coats. They had blood red robes on underneath.
"Never thought we'd have red at the Slytherin table," Blaise laughed.
"Vhy?" asked Nadya, helping herself to some sort of stew.
"That's Gryffindor colors," Millie explained. "They're our rival House."
"Still, it's nice to have a bit of color once in awhile, instead of always black," Pansy said.
The Durmstrangs on the edges of their group had turned to talk with the older Hogwarts students sitting on either side of the Fourth Years. The ones in the middle—Nadya, Radeva, Krum, an as yet unidentified boy built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle, and a girl with a ponytail—either didn't mind or were making the best of it. Or, like the large boy, just concentrated on eating.
"So, Artemis Fowl the Second," Radeva sneered, "say something genius-y."
Artemis looked at him steadily. "The fact that you're from Durmstrang indicates you're a pureblood, but the coarse quality of your robes shows you're from a poorer family. The callous on your left index finger shows you write a lot and you're left handed. The pudding-bowl haircut indicates a lack of interest in fashion. The slight squint means you need glasses, but as you're not wearing any, you feel…"
"OK, fine, enough," Radeva grumbled, looking both taken aback and put out.
The girl with the ponytail giggled. "I'm Anka. Don't mind Radeva, he's always this way. Who do you think your Champion will be?"
Draco shrugged. "Hard to say."
"What does the genius think?"
"That I'm not giving the competition any hints," Artemis smiled.
Anka laughed again. "You are smart."
The unnamed boy spoke up. "Harry Potter goes here, yes?"
The Slytherins went quiet. "He's at that table," Artemis pointed, the only one not feeling indignant or thinking 'Potter again!' "Let's see… about a third of the way down, facing us. See the glasses and the messy dark hair?"
"See, Harry Potter is not ashamed to admit he needs glasses," Nadya chided Radeva, who just grunted.
"Why's everybody staring at that French girl?" Eva suddenly demanded.
They all looked. A beautiful girl with silvery-blonde hair that hung almost to her waist was walking from the Gryffindor table to the Ravenclaw one, carrying some sort of dish. All the boys she passed stopped to stare.
Draco's eyes narrowed. "I think she's part Veela."
"Really?"
Marie elbowed Blaise, who tore his eyes away from the blonde. He cleared his throat. "She's nothing on you," he said obediently. Marie smiled at him.
Millie stared expectantly at Vince. "Well?"
"What?"
Draco rescued his friend by nodding at the Head Table. "Look who's here. Bagman and Crouch." While everyone was distracted, he hissed at Crabbe, "Your line was, 'You're prettier than any Veela, Mills.'"
Vince looked over at his girlfriend, abashed.
"Oooh, dessert," Goyle exclaimed cheerfully.
When dessert was finished, Dumbledore stood up again. "The moment has come," he announced. He directed Filch to bring in a large jewel-encrusted chest. "There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, which will test the champions in many different ways… their magical prowess—their daring—their deduction—and their ability to cope with danger. The one with the highest marks at the end will win the TriWizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."
Dumbledore opened the chest and removed a large wooden cup. It was filled to the brim with dancing blue-white flames. He set the cup down. "Anybody wishing to submit themselves as a champion must write their name and school on a slip of paper and drop it into the goblet within the next 24 hours. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged worthy to represent the schools. Once a champion is selected, they must follow through to the end. Placing your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. You can't change your mind or heart.
"I will place the goblet in the entrance hall where it will be accessible. An Age Line will be drawn around it. Nobody under the age of 17 will be able to cross this line. Now it is time for bed. Good night!"
"An Age Line," Zabini mused.
Karkaroff came up to their table then. "Very well, back to the ship to sleep. Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine?"
Krum shook his head.
The large boy suggested hopefully, "Professor, I vould like some vine."
"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," Karkaroff snapped. "I see you dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy…"
He led his students away. As they reached the door, so did the Fab Trio. Karkaroff stopped abruptly and stared at Potter. His students did, too. Draco rolled his eyes. He saw Moody clump up behind them. "Yeah, that's Harry Potter," the former auror growled.
Karkaroff spun around and his face went white with fear and fury. "You!"
"Yeah, me," Moody returned grimly. "And you're blocking the door."
Karkaroff swept away, waving his group with him. Moody watched him leave with an expression of intense dislike. But really, what was so unusual about that?
Butler sidled up next to Fowl. Artemis nodded. "Watch him, too."
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A/N: Sorry this has so much from the chapters but I thought it was necessary. It's probably been awhile since you read the books, so this way you can remember what's happening.