Chapter 3: Going Home
Artemis ate very little of the feast, more because he preferred more high end meals than because he was in pain.
Once he was feeling better, he forced himself to start thinking about all possible causes for this mysterious pain. There was no doubt in his mind that it was caused by the new body, but was it preventable? Would it go away? Was it going to kill him, again?
Thinking about dying did not make him feel any better. He had gone to enormous lengths to save himself, and he didn't particularly want to die again.
Once the feast was over, the food vanished into nothingness. Artemis was a slight bit impressed.
The headmistress stood again.
"Now that you have all eaten enough, I would like to speak more in depth about the events of last May."
The room was silent.
"First, I would like to introduce a new member of our staff, taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Professor Artemis Fowl."
The other teachers around him motioned for him to stand, so he did. "Thank you, headmistress. It's my privilege." He sat back down.
When the headmistress spoke again, her face was grim. "Last May, the world was very different. There were many more people in it that should still be here. Last year, many of you went through things you should not have had to go through, and you survived. I do not believe there is a single person in this room who was untouched by the events of last year, whether you were here or not."
Except me, Artemis thought. I was dead at the time.
"Voldemort was the reason for all this suffering."
Many of the students, and teachers, flinched visibly at the name.
She continued. "I don't want you to be afraid of the name anymore. Last May, he was a threat, but now he is nothing. He was destroyed, because of the brave efforts of the students of Hogwarts. The Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore's Army."
A few of the students cheered at this, especially one older boy at the table with red and gold decorations. Gryffindor, Artemis remembered.
"And because of the efforts of a boy, named Harry Potter, who is rather like all of you."
More cheering, from all tables.
"For those of you who don't know Mr. Potter personally, I should tell you, he was awful at turning in his homework."
Laughter.
"He failed more than one exam. He missed plenty of class." She smiled. "Harry Potter is exactly like all of you. You all have the potential to do something great. This year, that is what I want you to remember. Voldemort, in the end, was not vanquished by highly trained aurors, or even an adult. He was defeated by a boy like you, who just wanted to protect his home."
Every person in the room was applauding, so Artemis joined in. Still, he felt like an outsider to this. He wondered why it was that that mattered to him.
…
Hermione found that she was struggling not to cry after Professor McGonagall's speech. Ginny was smiling, but it didn't seem real.
"Ginny." Hermione said. "You're head girl this year, you have to find the first years."
"What?" She jumped up. "Oh, bloody hell, you're right. First years!"
"I'll help." Hermione said.
After gathering all the first years, they showed them to the common room. Hermione had never been so glad to be there.
"It's exactly the way it was." Hermione said. "It feels like it should be all gloomy this year."
"It's perfect." Ginny said. "I'm exhausted."
"Sleep sounds nice." Hermione agreed.
They both walked up into the girl's dorm, and Hermione fell onto her bed, and right asleep.
…
When Artemis found his way to his own lodgings, which were uncomfortably small compared to what he was used to, he immediately started going through his bag.
He pulled out his fairy communicator, hoping it would still work.
It did. It seemed Hogwarts only disliked what they called 'muggle' technology.
Holly answered almost immediately. "What, Artemis?"
"This school is as fascinating as I imagined, Holly. Think of the things I could learn."
"Because that's a great idea." She scowled. "Last time you discovered a species of magical creatures, you kidnapped me."
He frowned. "I thought you were over that."
"I am. That's not the point. The point is that you can't help but exploit anything new you come across."
"That's not me anymore, Holly, and you know it. I died because that isn't true."
"I have work." She scowled again. "Do you have anything useful to say?"
When he didn't immediately answer, she hung up.
For some reason, he wished she hadn't.
…
When Hermione woke up, it was the middle of the night, and Ginny was shaking her.
"Get up."
"What is it?" She groaned.
"Ron's in the fireplace in the common room."
"Like how we used to talk to Sirius?"
Ginny hadn't been there, but she'd been told.
"Exactly."
Hermione followed Ginny down into the common room.
"Isn't it a bit late, Ron?" She asked.
"I suppose. But any earlier, and Mum still would've been up."
"How's Harry?" She asked.
He sighed. "Same as usual. He won't get out of bed. Not even when George and I offered to play Quidditch."
"I suppose we shouldn't expect anything else." Ginny sighed. "He had an awful year."
"So did we!" Ron snapped. "We weren't laying around all summer."
"Oh, leave him be, Ron." Hermione said. "I was almost happy to talk to you."
"Sorry." He blushed. "How was the feast?"
"Hard." Ginny answered. "Harder than I expected."
Suddenly, there was a crash behind Ron. "Oh, Mum's up. Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow." Ginny promised. "Go to bed."
He disappeared.
"You knew he would call. Why didn't you tell me?" Hermione asked.
"Because that was hard too." She said. "I want to go home."
"We are home." Hermione said, instinctively.
"Are we anymore?"