I am sorry for my unbelievably long absence. Let's just say shit hit the fan life wise around August of last year and I have been doing nothing on fan fiction. I apologize for keeping what few of my readers remain waiting so long. :(

So, to stave off my inevitable execution for dropping my story, here goes.

Be warned, this chapter contains the revenge of Artemis Fowl.

As usual, italics equal gaelic

The character challenge still stands.

A very fat man in a suit stumbled down the street, the front of his shirt stained brown with sick. A block behind him, a solitary figure in a black coat followed after him. Glancing behind him, the fat man made a sharp turn into his garden.

The fat man fumbled with the lock of his door, squealing in terror as his follower got closer and closer. Finally, the door opened, and the fat man dashed through, just as his pursuer reached the garden gate.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god." The fat man staggered into his living room, wand out. "Accio floo powder!" A jar floated over to him, which he grabbed.

"Incendio!" a fire appeared in the hearth. And on the drapes. As smoke filled the room, the fat man coughed "Malfoy..Manor!" and threw first the powder, then himself into the flames, just as a loud crash heralded the pusuer booting down the door.

For a moment he spun, safe within the floo network. Then something grabbed the back of his collar, and he felt himself dragged from the safe warmth. Crying piteously, the fat man fell onto a hard cement floor.

"Hello Fat Man." three men stood over him, all in black coats.

"Wha?"

"Oh didn't you know?" One grinned.

"Mister Fowl owns the floo network." another cackled.

"We had you the moment you entered the flames." the third sneered.

There was a crack, and the fat man's pursuer apparated into place.

"Got him?" the man asked, his voice hoarse and raspy.

"Oh we got him Cutter." the third speaker laughed. "We got this traitorous little shit right here."

"Good. Get him up." The fat man was hauled to his feet.

"We bring a message from your employer." The man named Cutter continued, pulling a cigarette from his coat pocket. A sack was produced, and from the sack fell the severed head of Raz. The fat man threw up.

"Mr. Fowl thought you should know what happens to traitors."

The fat man fell to his knees, wild eyes flickering between the four men. "Please...it was Malfoy."

"We know." one of the men murmured, moving his coat aside to reveal a long butcher's knife.

"Please...don't kill me! It was Malfoy! It was all his idea I swear!"

"We know." Cutter grunted, handing the knife wielder a thick leather apron.

"I can help you get Malfoy! Don't do this lads...please don't do this..."

"Hold him."

The fat man screamed.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione went to visit Artemis Fowl in the hospital wing after classes ended for the day, Hermione forcing Ron to carry a huge package of class work "so that he can keep up" as Hermione put it. The package was so big that Ron didn't see a blonde girl drift out the door of the hospital wing.

The ensuing crash sent both Ron and Luna Lovegood sprawling, a cloud of papers exploding into the air.

"Ron!" Hermione snapped, rushing over to help Luna to her feet.

"You alright?" Ron asked roughly, turning away from Luna.

"I'm alright." Luna replied dreamily, as if nothing had happened. "Well, goodbye." Luna drifted off, leaving a slightly stunned trio in her wake, surrounded by sheets of parchment.

"What a strange girl." Harry said after a moment.

"Yeah, they call her loony Luna in Ravenclaw." Ron grinned.

"Do they call you Muppet Ron?" Artemis Fowl's cold voice came from within the hospital wing. "Try not to run over my acquaintances in future Mr. Weasley."

"Stuff it git." Ron snapped, stomping towards Artemis's hospital bed, the recovered stack of papers in his arms. "You're lucky I'm here at all."

"Yes, I cannot imagine any greater pleasure than your company Mr. Weasley." Artemis drawled. "Why are you three here?"

"We came to see how you were Artemis." Hermione smiled brightly, sitting down beside Artemis's bed.

"We thought you could use the company." Harry added, sitting beside Hermione. Ron, grimacing at Artemis made a noise that might have been an affirmation.

Artemis's warded section of the hospital wing was more crowded than Harry had ever seen the hospital wing. Books sat in great stacks beside his bed, dozens of letters lay in haphazard piles on the bedside counter, and a sleek black laptop sat on Artemis's lap, a headphone trailing from a port to Artemis's ear.

"So..."Harry began after a painful silence, in which the trio fidgeted and Artemis watched them patiently. "We brought you your class work."

"Thank you Mr. Potter." Artemis replied. Silence returned with a vengeance. Eventually, Hermione reached over and pulled the headphones out of the computer. "What are you listening to Artemis?"

Trying and failing to stop her, Artemis leaned back with an exasperated groan as the sound of an electrical guitar filled the room.

And Harry doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene

He's got a daytime job he's doing alright

He can play honky tonk just like anything

Saving it up for Friday night

With the Sultans, with the Sultans of Swing

"Damn." Artemis grunted, his face reddening ever so slightly.

"You listen to the Dire Straits?" Hermione laughed.

"So what if I do?" Artemis snapped defensively. "I appreciate all kinds of music."

And a crowd of young boys they're fooling around in the corner

Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles

The don't give a damn about any trumpet playing band

"I'm sorry." Hermione smirked. "I expected some symphony of some kind."

Artemis hurriedly clicked something on his laptop, and the sound of a hundred violins replaced the smooth rhythm of the guitars.

"Better?"

"Not really." Hermione snickered as Artemis glowered. Harry noticed Ron was shooting daggers at the duo.

"I didn't know you liked music Artemis." Harry smiled.

"I am civilized Mr. Potter, whatever my other faults."

"How long will you be here?" Ron asked.

"A few more days," Artemis replied. "She who must not be named demands it."

"You mean madame Pompfrey?" Hermione corrected.

"Shhh!"Artemis hissed. "Speak of it and it shall appear...Madame Pompfrey!" The hospital matron appeared as if from nowhere, a terrifyingly massive syringe in her hands.

"Good afternoon Mr Fowl." Madame Pompfrey replied. "Time for the dose."

"Oh very well." Artemis muttered, his hand sliding ever so slowly towards his wand.

"Touch that dear boy and I'll dose you twice!" Pompfrey thundered, making Artemis wince.

"Damn."

"I've never met someone who hates treatment more than this boy." Madame Pompfrey continued as she seized Artemis's arm. 'I swear he's tried to jinx me four times already every time I show up with a needle. And the mess he made a few nights ago! Any normal person would be begging for care after losing that much blood!"

"May some horrible monster devour you Madame Pompfrey." Artemis said jovially. Then he hissed as the over large needle was pressed into his arm.

Ron snickered at Artemis's pained expression, then yelped as a feathery something collided with his head.

"This is not the owlery Mr Fowl!" Madame Pompfrey snapped.

"Apologies Matron." Artemis drawled. "Here Bran." the great horned owl hopped over to Artemis, hooting loudly at Ron, who was cursing. Extending one leg, it presented Artemis with a dirty rag of parchment.

Mr Fowl,

Cutter and his men killed Mr. Maltravers last night. The head was delivered to Malfoy Manor as promised. Someone tried to kill Scabior Druitt this morning, we presume in retaliation. Action has been taken. Gringotts informs me that all assets of the Alpha Trade Company and its CEO Mr Malfoy have been seized. The snake is injured, yet sadly not quite dead. I will be returning to Hogwarts to garuantee your security.

Butler

Lucius Malfoy stared at the head of James Maltravers. It wasn't a pretty head. Fowl's men had been none to gentle in it's removal, and the man had clearly struggled.

This wasn't going to plan. The boy should have died and Malfoy should have taken over. But there was no point in crying over spilt milk. He would just have to try again.

Glancing towards his bookcase, Malfoy saw the empty slot that had once held a book belonging to an erstwhile master. It might be time to visit Hogwarts again. The Weasley girl had done very well up to now, and the...thing...might very well be able to finish the job.

He would have to see.