When Artemis stepped into the dingy old shack, he couldn't help but wince at its horrid condition. The dim lighting, always flickering; the creaky chairs that complained when sat on; the hidden mold and rodent nests found in any space available… he would never come here if it weren't for what lay hidden behind the back wall.
The bell rang as Butler opened the door, holding it for Artemis to step inside. Heads turned as the manservant and his young charge entered the dimly-lit room, emitting an aura of importance.
Artemis gazed around in disgust that he made no attempt to disguise. A man with a wrinkling face stood in the corner, seeming to be talking to his drink. A few old women were sitting at a table, sipping glasses of sherry. The bartender had stood up at their entrance, bowing his head slightly in respect. He knew who these people were.
"Tom." Artemis acknowledged the toothless bartender with barely a nod – one had to show some respect, even if it was to others of lesser importance.
Butler nodded, and led Artemis across the creaky floorboards to an old, failing door when a voice sounded from the silence – "A-A-Artemis Fowl, are you?"
Artemis stopped in his tracks. Who was talking to him? "This is my charge, and he has chosen not to speak at the moment," Butler growled, making the choice for him.
"Ah, I ap-p-pologize, s-sir," the voice said with a shaky laugh.
The residents of the room stirred in alarm. Why was jittery Quirrel talking to this boy?
Artemis narrowed his eyes and spoke before the man could speak again. "My dear Professor Quirrel, I hope you can live up to the expectations I have for a teacher at this esteemed school. I will be waiting." He signaled to Butler, and they stepped into the walled courtyard beyond the door, leaving Professor Quirrell hanging there.
Once the door was closed, Artemis sighed. "Butler, why does everyone insist on making pleasantries? It is quite bothersome, especially when I do not wish to talk."
"That's society for you," Butler chuckled, while tapping a brick along a wall (three up, two across). A hole appeared in the center of the wall, and instantly started to spread until Artemis was facing an archway – and the world beyond it.
He squared his shoulders. "Well, old friend, it looks like it's time for me to go shopping."
Butler smiled. "Yes, Master, it looks like it is."
And with that, they stepped through the archway. Artemis had never been exposed to the world of the wizards, but as he gazed around at the colorful shops and advertisements around him, he tried not to look too awed. "Look at what we could do, Butler," he breathed.
"Don't lose yourself, Master Artemis," Butler replied, drawing a few looks with his use of the title.
Artemis snapped back to reality. "Of course. We need to make a visit to the bank first. Set up an account and deposit money." He looked at his bodyguard, squinting in the light. "Let us go. I doubt this exposure to the sun is healthy."
Artemis could not restrain himself from staring at his colorful surroundings. A family of redheads was gazing through a window at Cauldrons – "Cauldrons, All Sizes, Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver, Self-Stirring, Collapsible!" A plump witch stood outside a building, advertising herbal mixtures. A sign flashed proudly, announcing the arrival of the newest broom, the Nimbus 2000. Owls hooted in windows, robes hung on display, books stacked and restacked themselves…
And then they were there. Gringotts, the famous wizarding bank. It towered above the other buildings threateningly, its snow-white exterior glistening. Bronze doors marked the entrance, and a goblin stood attentively next to them. It had a clever expression on its bearded face.
"Observe and remember," Artemis muttered to Butler. He tucked away the image of the short, bearded creature as they passed through the doorway.
They were now met with another set of doors, silver this time. Without breaking pace, Artemis read the message engraved on them:
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, Beware
Of finding more than treasure here.
As Butler pushed the doors open, Artemis took one look at the interior of the bank and decided he would have fun trying to break into the security. A vast marble hall was decorated with a single long counter, behind which around a hundred goblins sat, examining coins and scribbling in ledgers. Numerous doors branched out of the hallway, and people were constantly moving to and fro. Guard goblins stood at attention at every opening, watching the people with wariness.
Artemis and Butler headed for the counter. Artemis squared his shoulders and put on the aura of an important man. He stopped in front of a goblin that was weighing precious stones and waited for him to notice them.
He did, setting down his stones with a clink. "Well?" he croaked, the annoyed expression on his face vanishing as he saw the mountainous bodyguard standing in front of him. "What can I help you with, Mr…?" His voice immediately adopted a tone of respect and fear.
"Master Fowl," Artemis said, snapping his fingers for attention. "I would…"
The goblin's eyes widened slightly. "…Fowl, did you say?"
"Yes, I said Fowl," Artemis snapped, scowling. "Did you not hear me? You would not want to be
fired for inadequate hearing, now would you?"
"Oh n-no, sir!" the goblin practically squeaked. "Come along this way, sir, we have your vault waiting for you, sir…" He looked around. "Gilla! We have a special guest today. Take young Master Fowl down to his vault!"
Another goblin popped up behind Artemis. "Master Fowl, sir! Do you have your key, sir?"
Artemis frowned, at a loss for words. He had a vault? "Are –"
Butler spoke up. "I believe I may." From inside his vest, he drew out a ring of keys attached to a chain. He selected an intricate golden key and held it out.
The goblin identified as Gilla peered at it for a moment, then clapped. "Ah, excellent. Follow me, good sirs." He took off down the long marble hall.
As they followed, Artemis gave Butler a strange look. "Butler… Did you know about any of this?"
Butler grimaced, and, after a long pause, he said hesitantly, "The Fowls have had magic for… as far as the family tree reaches."
The boy stared at his bodyguard, actually stopping in his tracks. "Why did you not tell me?"
"I was under orders," Butler replied. "Your mother, Angeline… A wonderful witch she was, very powerful. But when your father disappeared, she blamed the magic and banned the topic from the house. It was never brought up again, until now."
A heavy weight appeared on Artemis's chest, and the world he was in came crashing into his at a completely different angle. My father was abducted because of magic, he realized. The thought bounced around his head, even as his footsteps echoed around the hall. I've been looking in all the wrong places…
Gilla and Butler stopped, and Artemis nearly crashed into them. He lifted his head, which had fallen onto his chest in thought, and saw a metal door with a warning sign engraved into it: WARNING. Dangerous. Do not proceed.
This was exactly the door through which they were to proceed through. "Do not worry," Gilla said. "This sign is for those who are not meant to be here. Now, behold!" He tapped the door and pushed it open.
Artemis's first impression was that of a mining site. The room was dark and cold, contrasting with the elegant marble and copper that the hall right outside had consisted of. It was empty except for an elevator at the far end, which had a single button: Down.
Butler stepped into the cold room and looked around, then nodded. "It is safe," he said to Artemis. The boy followed his bodyguard into the room and shivered as the cold atmosphere hit him.
"Why, of course it is safe," Gilla grumbled. "Gringotts is the safest place to be!"
With a push of the button, the elevator doors opened creakily. Artemis winced. "Where is your maintenance crew?" he muttered.
"We apologize," Gilla gasped. "You must understand, this elevator – and the Fowl vault – has been out of use for over a decade. It will be cleaned up as soon as possible, I promise."
Artemis nodded, as if to say he would hold the goblin to that promise, and flicked his hand in a shooing motion toward the waiting elevator. Gilla still muttering apologies under his breath, the three entered and the door closed behind them with another creak.
The elevator sped downward at a rapid speed, although it was undetectable to the residents inside the walls. Artemis stood in the corner, deep in thought, eyebrows crinkled.
After a moment, Artemis spoke up. "You said this vault hasn't been used in over a decade, goblin. Who was the last person to use it?"
The goblin thought for a moment. "Why, it just happened to be Artemis Fowl Sr. Speaking of whom…" he peered at Artemis intently. "Why, you are his son, aren't you? How is your father?"
Artemis bit his lip in an unexpected display of emotion. "That is not for you to know. I do not need a goblin who pries into family secrets," he threatened. Honestly, he was getting tired of Gilla's consistent babbling.
"Oh! I apologize, young sir!" he said quickly. Artemis grunted.
The elevator stopped with a ding. "Well, sir, I believe we are here," Gilla said dramatically as the doors opened.
~oOo~
If he hadn't been an esteemed genius and mastermind with a reputation to uphold, Artemis would've thrown up after their cart hit the first turn. Nevertheless, he felt as if the world was spinning and turning and flipping upside down around him. The cart made sharp turns, right, left, right, right, down… As the cart that was escorting the trio stopped, the boy genius stumbled out and leaned over, resting his hands on his knees as he barely managed not to empty his stomach of its contents.
Butler and Gilla got out more slowly, as if they had been on a normal drive down the road. The manservant was grinning as he clapped his charge on the back. "I hope you're all right, Master Artemis," he said, amusement lacing his voice. Artemis stood up and glared at him.
They were deep underground, rocks and – were those gemstones? – yes, precious gemstones embedded into the walls. They shone beckoningly, red and blue, gold and green, as if to inform Artemis of what was lying ahead.
To be honest, Artemis was less than surprised. If his father, Artemis Fowl Sr., and his father, and generations beyond that, had used and designed this vault, it was only expected that they would make it this grand. As they walked to the single door of solid silver that lay at the end of the hall, he appraised the minerals that made up the walls. Rubies, emeralds, garnet…
But the real treasure lay beyond the door. "Key, please," Gilla said, holding out his hand.
Butler reached into his pocket once more and drew out his golden key, placing it in the palm of the goblin's outstretched hand. Gilla inserted it into a tiny hole, barely noticeable, and pressed his fingers to the door.
With a click, the vault's safety mechanisms were disabled, and the silver door stared to slowly slide open.
Now that he was so close, Artemis was almost shaking with anticipation. What gold and treasures had the previous Fowls hidden from him? He tried not to show his eagerness as slowly, the contents of the Fowl vault were revealed.
And there were heaps of it. The mounds of coins were only the start of it ("Bronze Knuts, Silver Sickles, Gold Galleons," went Gilla's commentary) – the amount of precious stones would've been overwhelming to any average man. But Artemis was no average man, and the expression on his face was that of controlled satisfaction, although inside, he was screaming with joy.
Gilla gazed at the treasures adoringly. "Yes, Master Fowl. You may withdraw as much as you would like for now. You can always come back later."
Artemis nodded. "Butler, take some of the coins and a little bit of each." His expression was carefully controlled as Butler began to load a bag with samples of riches.
Butler had finished and was about to close the door when Artemis noticed a small box in the corner. Its size was small and made it look insignificant, but seemed to be made out of pure, 24-karat gold. Barking out the order, "wait," he reached in and slowly brought it up.
It was a small cube, but heavy, and it seemed to contain something on the inside. On the top was a Latin inscription – "Aurum est Potestas," Artemis breathed in wonder. He tucked the box into his pocket and nodded. "Let's go."
Once they were done, Gilla ensured that the vault was locked and the three proceeded back to the cart. Artemis groaned as they got back in; judging by the man's smile, Butler seemed to be rather enjoying himself.
~oOo~
They were back in the crowd of Diagon Alley's streets, Artemis's treasures now a mere weight in Butler's bag. It was at times like this that Artemis really appreciated Butler, for if it weren't for him, people wouldn't give Artemis such a wide berth to walk.
Artemis checked his list. "Butler, let's visit Madam Malkin's first, and get my robes."
Butler shrugged, then nodded. "Malkin's… this way." He led the way through the crowd, weaving through the people. Artemis stuck close behind, and soon they were inside.
It was much quieter in the shop, Artemis realized with a sigh of relief. But that was before Madame Malkin popped up from behind her counter. "Hogwarts, dear?"
She was a squat, smiling witch, dressed in mauve. When she saw Butler standing behind Artemis, her eyes bulged a little more, and Artemis noted that if she opened her eyes any wider her eyeballs would fall out.
"Why – hello, dear… Well now. Welcome to Madam Malkin's, and… er, well, are you here for Hogwarts?" She couldn't manage to tear her eyes off of Butler.
Artemis snapped his fingers again. "Yes. I am here to collect my robes. Do you take custom requests?"
"Ah, well, of course we do, but the price…"
"Is inconsequential."
Madam Malkin shot a glance at Butler, then the boy. "Does your guardian approve?"
Artemis frowned, annoyed. "I am my own guardian." He paused, and, hearing no comments, continued. "Good. A silk robe would be fine, with gold trim and hem. The sleeves…" He continued to list what he wanted, then smiled in satisfaction. "Yes, that should be good. How long will this take?"
Madam Malkin was madly scribbling down Artemis's requests. "I need to get a measurement, first. Come along, now…" She led Artemis to the back of the store, where another pale blonde boy was being fitted by a second witch. "Stand here," she said, indicating a footstool next to the boy. With a command of, "Stay here, I'll be right back," she scrambled off.
The blonde boy looked at Artemis. "You going to Hogwarts, too?" He had a slow, drawling voice.
Artemis nodded. "It happens that I am. I am Artemis Fowl, the Second." He held out his hand.
The blonde boy shook it. "I've heard of the Fowls. Father said they were one of the richest families in the wizarding communities, except maybe Fudge himself. I'm Malfoy, by the way. Draco Malfoy."
"I see." Apparently his family was a well-known prestigious family, even with the magical people. "I take it you have magical upbringings?"
"Of course! I don't think they should let in the other kind, do you?" He made a sound of disgust. "They don't know our ways. Father says they just taint the school. He doesn't like them, you see." Draco paused as the witch adjusted the collar on his robe. "My father's next door buying my books, and my mother's looking at wands. After this, I think I'm going to go buy a broom. I don't get why they don't let first years have one. I'm going to bully Father into letting me smuggle it in – say, do you play Quidditch?"
Artemis, who had stopped listening a while ago, realized Draco was waiting for him to talk. "Pardon?"
"I said, do you play Quidditch?"
Artemis shook his head. "I do not involve myself in rough activities such as Quidditch. My brain can be put to better use."
Malfoy blinked. "Oh, the lady is here – looks like your turn to get measured. I'm getting an expensive robe. Father says it's one-of-a-kind. How about you?" He had a haughty expression on his face.
Artemis gave him a level gaze. "I have ordered custom robes. I predict they will only cost a few hundred Galleons each – if even." Madam Malkin, who was back with a fitting-robe, chuckled at Draco's awed expression as she started pinning and taking measurements.
"You're done, my dear," declared Draco's witch.
"Right," he said, hopping off the stool. "Well, I'll see you at school. I hope you get into Slytherin – it's the best." He departed with one last adoring glance.
Artemis sighed once more as Draco left. He watched through the glass as the boy was joined by two blonde people Artemis supposed were his parents. Draco and his father shared a few words, and suddenly a frown appeared on the man's face. He cuffed the boy on his shoulder with his staff, and Draco hung his head. And then the man looked up – and met Artemis's observant gaze. After a long moment in which gray met blue and Madam Malkin continued to pin Artemis's robe, Draco's father broke off with a cool nod that seemed to say, I'm watching. Artemis returned the nod, adding his own trademark smile that put even the cold Malfoy at unease. With a dramatic sweep of his robes, he escorted his son and wife into the crowd – and they were gone.
Butler, who had noticed the exchange, made a mental note to watch those three. As Artemis, who was to return in an hour for his robes, joined him, he said under his breath, "That man was suspicious. I'll keep an eye on him."
Artemis smiled at him. "My old friend, observant as ever. Very well," he said, making for the door, "let us proceed. We shall stop by the bookstore next."
Flourish and Botts was a place of any bookworm's dreams. It was stacked to the roof with books – literally. Artemis bought his school books with barely a glance at them, and spent possible an hour browsing the advanced section. He finally made his purchase - The Art of Spellcasting – Advanced Edition; The History of the Wand; Wandless Spells, Hidden Curses, and Other Tricks; and The Secret Behind It All being only a fraction of the books.
His supplies were bought at a place called Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment. It was a place of intrigue to the boy, being filled with gadgets and magical technology. Along with his cauldron, scales, and telescope, which all happened to be solid gold, he also bought a globe of the Earth as the wizards saw it.
Their next stop was Eeylops Owl Emporium and Magical Menagerie. After long, thoughtful consideration, the animal-despising Artemis emerged from the shop with a pure white owl, which he named Divitias, the Latin word for wealth. You never knew when a winged messenger may come in handy.
And at last, it was time for his wand. Artemis felt a small thrill shoot through him as he stepped into Ollivanders. The store had the feel of an old library, dimly lit and slightly dusty. But instead of books on the shelves, there were boxes, hundreds and thousands of them. There were stacks upon stacks – from behind one of which an old man walked out, with a surprising spring in his step. "Ah, Mr. Fowl, I see, come to get his wand, accompanied by, yes, Mr. Butler…" He nodded to himself as he approached the duo.
Butler eyed him warily. "Would you kindly explain, Mr. Ollivander, how you happen to know us?"
Ollivander smiled at him, apparently not feeling threatened at all. "Oh, I recognize every one of my customers… I remember everyone, too… I remember when your father got his wand – oak and pixie hair, yes, eleven inches." He shuffled over to his desk and drew out a measuring tape. "Which is your wand hand?" he asked, measuring him in seemingly random places; arm to arm, head to toes, hip to shoulder, around his head…
Assuming this meant his writing hand, Artemis said, "I'm ambidextrous, but I prefer my left." He held it up accordingly, although his thoughts were still occupied by Ollivander's comments on his father. Why must everyone bring him up?
Talking to himself, Ollivander nodded and shuffled over to his desk; he took out a paper and started taking notes. The young boy noticed the tape was measuring him on its own now. After a while of this, the tape rolled itself back into a ball and fell to the ground. Ollivander, kicking the tape out of his way, pulled a box out of its place on the shelf and opened it, presenting the contents to Artemis. "Holly and unicorn-tail, thirteen inches. Try it."
The boy nodded and lifted the wooden stick, not knowing what to do.
"Give it a flick."
Artemis did so, and the nearest vase shattered into tiny pieces. He winced.
Mr. Ollivander took another one and gave it to him. "Oak, with dragon heartstrings. Eleven and a half inches."
This one, too, failed to yield positive results. Ollivander nodded and went into the back of the store to look for a better one. As he searched, he said, "Every wand chooses the wizard, Fowl, not the other way around. You never know what you're going to get. The wand has to be perfectly suited to the user, and you will never get good results with another's." He stopped, running his finger along a row of boxes. He pulled one out. "Ah, here it is. Eleven inches. Yew." On his way back to Artemis, he pulled out a few more, muttering to himself.
As the pile of rejected wands on Ollivander's table grew, Artemis became more and more dispirited, although the old man himself seemed to never grow tired. This wasn't going to work. No, of course not. I t was all a trick. He barely noticed when the wand that he was holding started to glow slightly and grow warm, for his mind had wandered off to his manor in Ireland. Was Juliet taking good care of it? Had the cameras been properly adjusted, the hinges properly greased?
Ollivander snapped him out of his stupor. "Mr. Fowl, you now have your own wand: Ebony and phoenix feather, twelve and a half inches. Very flexible."
Artemis blinked. "What?" he looked down. Oh, right, my wand. All right."
He paid for the wand absentmindedly and stepped outside, lack of emotion settling back on his face. "It looks like we are done, Butler. Shall we proceed back to our lodgings for now?"
Suddenly someone collided with him. Books spilled onto the floor. The someone was a girl about his age, bushy-haired and tall. She stumbled a few paces away, recovering quickly but not quickly enough to avoid Butler's firm grasp on her shoulder. "Watch where you step, miss, or I'm going to have to punish you for harming Master Artemis," he growled threateningly.
The girl's eyes opened wide. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered. "I just…"
"I don't view you as a threat. But watch your step, or you will view me as one." The girl thought about saying she already considered him threatening – but decided against it.
Artemis performed a brief check on his suit. Everything seemed okay. "Well. Now that we have – encountered, we might as well introduce ourselves. I am Artemis Fowl, the Second."
Recovering her composure now that Butler had removed his hand, the girl said a little nervously, "I'm Hermione Granger. Are you going to Hogwarts too?" She had heard of the Fowls in Ireland, and was definitely not eager to become his classmate.
"Well yes, I am." He turned away, looking bored.
Hermione had also heard of his intellect. "Have you been studying? Our books are very interesting. I've learned more than I ever could in Muggle school, and that's just from reading. I wonder what we could learn to do at Hogwarts!"
Artemis sneered. This girl was too naïve and enthusiastic. Sure, she was smart, but she needed to learn to use her brain right. "Yes, I do wonder," he said softly, his eyes suddenly losing focus. And he did wonder. To what ends could he go with that magic? He would be virtually unstoppable, once he had learned how to control it. He would be feared and respected in the… Muggle world.
Hermione caught that glint in his eye and backed off a little. She hoped they wouldn't be in the same House. No, he would definitely be a Slytherin. He was a scary boy. She didn't know eleven-year-olds could look so… hungry. Not hungry, as in, dessert hungry, but hungry, as in, money and power. His parents must not have been very good ones, she thought.
Artemis knew what the girl was thinking. He had seen it in many others who met him: fear. She hated him and feared him. But so what? Once he got the hang of this magic, she would be no matter to him.