He could feel Harry in his arms as he slept but somehow the memories clawed at him, pulling him back into blues and purples, dark as bruises as he found himself in a small home, a fire roaring purple-red in the grate. 

James was sitting in front of it, his hazel eyes focused on the flames.

Artemis was sitting across from him, his form stiff as he took in the face of the man who had sired Harry before he began to turn into someone else.  He looked over the form, to the unrounded ears and the black hair.  It was thick and fell in his eyes and yet, if Artemis really looked closely, there were shades of blues and purples and even reds as the firelight hit it.

This man was a mystery to him.  He appeared to both love his wife and his best friend and he could see the war of emotions on James Potter’s face—a Potter who wasn’t a Potter—but instead a fairy and a Black.

Artemis swallowed.  Harry’s new identity became even more fitting.

James was dressed casually in just a pair of trousers and loose open shirt that hung from his broad shoulders, revealing his toned chest to the firelight and to Artemis’s unseen gaze.

“Come to bed,” a haunted voice whispered from the shadows, but James didn’t turn.  “Please, James.  It’s been months.

Still James did not answer, his eyes never leaving the firelight, reflecting back the purple-red and making his eyes appear unearthly.

“Are you going to punish me for the rest of our married life?” Lily demanded as she came up behind the chair.  Her hair was undone and flowing down her back, her shoulders almost bare in the negligee she was wearing.  Artemis could see the swell of her small breasts, the curve of a hip, and glanced away.  She was dressed for seduction, and yet James remained unlooking, staring only at the flames.  “I’m sorry,” she begged, her voice laced with exhaustion and resentment.  “How many times am I going to have to say it?”

“Until I believe you,” James intoned darkly, his eyes never leaving the flames.  “Why did you marry me?  For revenge against your former friend?”

“No,” she begged, coming around and kneeling in front of her husband.  She placed her hand on James’s knee, but he pulled away, her hand falling back to her lap.  “No, James, not that.”

“I’ll divorce you,” James accused.

She sighed as if she’d heard this threat.  “Come to bed, James.”

“Your bed is cold and will remain so,” he said viciously, standing so quickly that she had to lean back so as not to be pushed backward.  Her negligee hitched up, revealing a smooth thigh and her nether curls. 

James’s eyes raked over her, disgust on his face.

“Jamie, I made a mistake.”

“—in the heat of passion.  A rather large one, I’d warrant.”

She grasped his hand, clutching it desperately.  “You’re my husband.  Sev—Severus,” she amended at the harsh look on his face, “was a friend who hurt me.  Don’t hurt me, too.”

“Gods, he was right,” James said angrily as he pulled his hand away.  “Sirius said I’d find nothing but misery.  I should have followed the old ways.  Better to bed a pureblood man than a Muggle-born wench.”

Her green eyes flashed angrily and she pulled down her nightgown self-consciously.  “A man?” Her voice was laced in disgust.  “James, you cannot be serious—it’s unnatural.”

He laughed hollowly, leaning against the mantle and the fire flickered against his haunted face.  “You and your Muggle prejudices.  It doesn’t matter.  You’ll soon be gone.”

“Hardly,” she scoffed, still spread inelegantly across the floor.  Artemis looked down at her in disgust.  He couldn’t imagine such a woman being his twin flame’s mother.  “I’m carrying your child, or would you relegate your son to the life of a bastard?”

James stilled, his eyes still not looking at her, and took a deep breath.  “A son?”

“Yes, you fool, or a daughter.  I’m with child, which is a natural outcome to our relations.”  The insidious accusation remained hidden in her words, but hung between them, the air pregnant with their hurt and loathing.

“By gods, woman, if you’re lying,” James growled, but Lily only laughed.

“Lying?  Why ever should I lie?  I never told you that I loved you, James Potter.  I never claimed anything but the truth and you still married me knowing that—and yet you are surprised.”

“You deceived me—“

“As you did, too, it appears.  Better to bed a pureblood man?  Which pureblood is this, then?”

James flinched, and an exultant look passed over Lily’s face.  “Well, whoever he is, he won’t take you back now.  You’ve forsaken him for a lowly Mudblood, haven’t you, James?  More fool you, I suppose,” she whispered dejectedly, her face crumpling in a sorrow James could not see. 

“Get out,” he commanded, and she flinched.

“Come to bed.”

“I said—Get out,” he repeated, his eyes flashing as he turned.  “Tomorrow you will remove yourself to the guest bedroom until my child is born.”

“And then?” Her green eyes, so similar to Harry’s, met James’s angry gaze and held it, egging him to respond to her inquiry.

“Then we’ll see.  Go—Dream of your precious Snivellus.”

“Don’t call him that,” she whispered brokenly.

“I’ll call him whatever I like when his name is on your lips.  I’ll never touch you again, and you better hope you’re right about the child, or you’ll be left on the streets with nothing.”

“So our marriage vows mean nothing to you?”

“What vows?” he hissed angrily.  “They weren’t true in your heart, you can hardly expect me to still remain blinded to your preferences.”

“—As I was to yours,” she defended weakly.

“I loved you.”

“I’m still here.”

They stared at each other, Lily’s breast heaving with every angry breath she took, while James gazed at her impassively.  “Get out,” he demanded coldly again, and as she got up and fled the room, Artemis found the room fading.

The sun flowed through a window, momentarily blinding Artemis, before he could make out the ornate room in whites and pale blues.  A bed dominated it, but it was neatly made, gold and blue curtains partially hiding it from view. 

“A letter from Draco,” Narcissa said, interrupting his thoughts.  He looked quickly toward the side of the room where the voice had come from and saw Narcissa Malfoy sitting at a small breakfast table in dark green robes.  She looked regal and magnificent.

Lucius was sitting next to her, in darker robes that were no less elegant, the silver lining heightening his blue eyes.  “And?” he inquired, setting down his teacup.

They were the picture of poise and respectability, yet as Artemis moved closer he could detect the comfortable atmosphere between them and the gentle affection of their movements as Lucius squeezed Narcissa’s free hand or when she quietly passed him a plate of scones without having to be asked.

Her gray eyes skimmed the page and then a soft smile graced her face.  “He writes of Hyperion and—his fiancé.”

Lucius looked up, his eyebrows arching.  “Fiancé?  Isn’t he Draco’s age?”

“A little younger,” Narcissa responded absently.  “The wizard in question is Artemis Fowl the Second, who is the same young man who has come out of so many dealings with the LEPrecon ahead.”

“I didn’t know he was a wizard,” Lucius responded quietly.  “A Muggle-born?”

“I doubt it,” Narcissa responded.  “Draco mentioned that he has elements of fairy heritage—as does Hyperion.”  Her eyes widened.  “He’s also a prophet of some kind.  He’s a pureblood then.  The fairies never choose anyone who is not pure in magic.”

Lucius paused.  “Hyperion is a changeling?”

“It would appear so.”  She was still reading the letter and quickly turned it over.  “Draco says that Artemis inquired of Viktor if fairy heritage was at all possible among purebloods as he had noticed it in Hyperion—perhaps Artemis is something else then.  Draco thinks there might be some connection between Viktor and either Artemis or Hyperion as there’s some familiarity.”  She looked up.  “Did the Vilaneuves have fay blood?”

“Not that I was aware of.  The Blacks?”

She shook her head.

“A mystery then.  Poor Hyperion wouldn’t know, never having known his parents.”

“Indeed,” Narcissa sighed, leaning back in her chair.  She set the letter down.  “How old is Artemis Fowl rumored to be?”

“That’s the intriguing thing.  I’d heard a rumor of him going missing for two or three years—but he turned up not having aged a single day.”

Artemis smirked.  He had no idea he had a reputation in the wizarding world.

Narcissa lifted a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.  “Intriguing.”

“He should be about twenty, though given that particular circumstance—“  He left the rest unsaid.

His wife shrugged elegantly.  “No greater a difference than Viktor and Draco.  Are you certain, dear, that that particular association is wise?  He is our only child and if this should continue, the line could die out.”

“I’ve given it some consideration,” Lucius admitted slowly, looking at his wife.  “Of course, the decision is up to you—but I wish for our son to be happy.  I would not force him into a political alliance with a witch, if he does not care for his potential bride.  We are still young.  We can try for another heir.”

The unasked question hung between them and Narcissa paused, clearly considering.  “You think—you think the attachment might be that great?”

“I have little doubt,” her husband supplied quietly.  “His letters to me have become more open.  He is happy and, dare I say it, he has become a little less arrogant in his own superiority of others.”

“Instead he believes that both he and Viktor are superior to everyone, save perhaps Hyperion.  I think he’s developing an affection for his cousin.”

“It is to be expected.  He is an only child at present and has had no cousins until Hyperion.”

She nodded, the couple lapsing into silence, Narcissa still considering.  “And Viktor?  Do you think he—?”

Lucius smirked and got up from the table.  Moving to a wardrobe, he opened a small drawer near the bottom and withdrew an oak box that was elegant and yet ornate, gilded in silver with a large “M” denoting the Malfoy family.

Artemis peered closer as Lucius sat back at the table, looking over the wizard’s shoulder as he carefully unlocked it with a flick of his hand, the clear click of a mechanism hinting that magic had been used for the purpose. 

Carefully, Lucius removed the top letter and handed it to Narcissa.  “Viktor Krum sent this shortly after the Yule Ball.  There was no reason to answer it until there is a more formal intention of a proposal, but. . .”  His deep voice trailed off suggestively.

The Malfoys’ eyes met briefly before Naricssa took the parchment and unfolded it.  A moment later and her eyes widened.  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she breathed, folding up the parchment again.

“I wished for Krum’s courtship to have as little interference as possible, and as you can see, although he declares his intentions, he has not yet asked for permission.  Something can still go wrong.  Also, at that point we had only invited Hyperion to England.”

“I see.”  She lowered her eyes briefly to the tablecloth and fiddled with her hair.  “Another heir, then.  Draco, I think, will like having a little brother or sister.”  Narcissa nodded, as if assuring herself.  “Perhaps this one will be in Ravenclaw like your mother.”

He laughed charmingly with her, the two of them casting glances at one another.  “It is decided.  Hopefully by Christmas we can tell Draco the news—and Hyperion, if he spends it with us.”

“Another Black,” Narcissa sighed.  “I still can’t believe it and I’ve had months to accustom myself to the thought.”

Lucius took her hand in his own and kissed her knuckles softly.  “I know how much your family means to you.”

“Yes,” she agreed.  “I had despaired at what it had become.  Regulus dead, Andromeda and Sirius blood traitors, Bellatrix in Azkaban.  Well, we have at least one more generation before the name dies out.”

“Hyperion’s a changeling,” Lucius comforted her.  “If either he or Artemis have access to fairies, which we know they do, then it is a possibility that they are twin flames.”

Narcissa’s breath caught.  “Do you think?”

“It is just a theory.  Time will tell, but I wouldn’t give up hope for the greatness of the Blacks to continue for several generations to come.”

Artemis smirked.  He fully intended for there to be future generations, of both the Fowls and the Blacks, if Harry wished it.

The curtains bled a deeper blue and the Malfoys’ skin bruised purple and then, once again, everything was gone.

Still, Artemis did not find sleep.  Instead he was once again in another room, colors bleeding into one another, almost as if Artemis wasn’t quite supposed to be witnessing this memory.

“It’s unwise,” Minerva the witch was saying as she sat in front of Albus’s desk.  “What if Mr. Potter does not return?  You’ll be putting a child at the bottom of the lake, Albus, with no one to rescue him!”

“The merpeople have been informed,” he responded tiredly.  “They will bring him up after an hour and, after all, Mr. Weasley was his closest friend for years.”

“They haven’t spoken since Mr. Potter’s name came out of the Goblet of Fire,” Minerva argued back calmly.  “I doubt Mr. Weasley, despite his—virtues, would be the thing that Mr. Potter would miss most.”

“Do not underestimate the power of love, Minerva,” Albus said with a twinkle in his eyes.  “Love can do great things.”

She pursed her lips at him, clearly disbelieving his words.  “It is dangerous, Albus.  You know that there’s been—demon activity.  The fairies are stirring and it’s enough of a risk as it is to place three children in the Black Lake overnight—but to risk another when we both know Mr. Potter is never coming back—“

“He will come back,” Albus insisted.  “He must!  It is a legally binding contract.”

“If what Mr. Potter insists is true and he did not enter his name, then it is not binding and you know it, Albus.”

A knock sounded at the door and Albus looked relieved.  “Ah, they’re here,” he said before calling out an “Enter!”

The door swung open and a small man with white hair came through, leading four children.  Artemis instantly recognized Draco Malfoy’s white-blond hair and saw a red head who must have been the Weasley under discussion, probably Ronald.  There was also a witch with long black hair and a small girl who couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. 

He swallowed.  He could not believe that the Headmaster was going to place them underwater.  It was inhumane.

“Come in, come in,” Albus was saying before offering four chairs to the young people.  “Now, as you all know. . .”

The colors faded, and Artemis found himself once again sleeping with Harry in his arms.  He held him closer, glad that Harry was not going to find himself rescuing someone from the lake the next morning.  Harry would be safe, and Artemis would never let him go.

“Where’s Draco?” Harry asked the morning of the second task, sitting down across from Krum with a small smile.  He turned toward Artemis who was just now seating himself. 

“I am not knowing,” Krum admitted churlishly, clearly nervous.  “It is not like him to be late.”

“Do you think Potter will show up?” a girl to their left was asking excitedly.  “He’ll be a Squib if he doesn’t.”

Krum rolled his eyes and turned back to his breakfast.  “Idiots,” he muttered under his breath.

Harry settled down to his meal, but every ten minutes would look up to try and find a hint of a scowl on his lips.

“Vot troubles you?  Perhaps he overslept,” Krum tried to reason, though his face betrayed his anxiety. 

“I know what the task is,” Harry began softly.

Krum looked up at him sharply and Harry blushed. 

“You think—“

He nodded.

“Damn,” Krum hissed, setting his silverware down loudly on his plate.  “They are fools to be endangering our luffed vones.”

Artemis hesitated.  “There are four at the bottom of the lake,” he admitted.  “They were placed there last night, I think.”

Harry turned to him with wide eyes, searching his gaze.  “Four?”

“A small girl with blond hair,” (Krum shrugged at the description, not recognizing it) “a witch about your age, I’d guess, with black hair—“

“Chang,” Krum answered.  “She vas the date off Diggory.”

“Draco, and then I think Ron Weasley.”

Harry looked at him incredulously.  “Ronald Weasley?” he whispered.  “Who chose him?”

Artemis inclined his head toward the staff table, where Albus was sitting in the center, his eyes gazing out on the students as if looking for someone—searching for Harry and yet passing over him with each gaze at the Slytherin table.

“He’s gone mad,” Harry whispered, clutching his hand under the table.  “Utterly mad.”

The morning passed with tension easy to discern in Harry’s body.  Harry had suggested they walk toward the lake, but as soon as the words left his mouth, decided against the idea, instead choosing to wander the castle with Artemis beside him.  They barely spoke to one another, their hands just intertwined as Harry paused in front of paintings and suits of armor, taking a close look at them, perhaps half-remembering them from his life before. 

Lunch was once again silent, although the Gryffindor table was boisterous.  Artemis could see Ginny and Hermione whispering with each other, probably wondering how Harry Potter would grandly reappear or if he would show his face at all. 

Several students and teachers kept glancing toward the door, but no one unexpected entered, and Harry was already safely seated among the Slytherins.

“Vill you tell the Malfoys?” Krum asked them as he got up to leave before everyone else.  Delacour, the Beauxbatons champion, was waiting at the door.  “About Draco?”

Harry only nodded quietly, not speaking, his jaw a hard line.

Both Artemis and Harry watched Krum’s retreating back.

“Where will they meet us?” Harry asked quietly.  “Draco was supposed to introduce us.”

“They’ll find us, I assume.  We are obviously the only people our age not wearing the school uniforms.”

Harry quirked his lips in a half-smile, warming Artemis’s heart. 

They were both still wearing expensive Muggle clothes and had gotten several looks from the other Slytherins.  Harry had quietly explained one evening that they were mainly purebloods, and Artemis just laughed, reminding Harry that he was one as well before tweaking his hair affectionately.

“They’ll hate me,” Harry whispered as everyone began to get up to go outside.  He, however, remained firmly seated at the table.  “Look at me.  How can they not hate me?  My own guardians hated me.”  He was turned away from the large oak doors and so didn’t see the Malfoys who were now entering.

Artemis smiled gently at him, brushing a thumb along Harry’s cheekbone.  “Those people,” Artemis said quietly, but not so much that the Malfoys couldn’t hear, “were Muggles who hated magic.  They were afraid of you and so they hated you,” he reasoned, remembering what Harry had told him about the Dursleys.  “The Malfoys are already magical and therefore will not have the same reaction.”

“You said your parents would like me,” Harry argued petulantly, his full insecurities coming to light, “and then your mother invited Minerva to stay hoping that she’d give them grandchildren.”

“Father does like you—and you will give Mother grandchildren, she just doesn’t realize it yet.  What’s really bothering you, Hyperion?  You know all of this.”

Harry’s eyes flashed at the sound of his legal name, and he deflated.  “Weasley,” he finally admitted after a long moment.

“Yes, well, he is a fool, and I told you when you were eleven he was delusional.”

A small smile played on Harry’s lips.  “You did.  Remember when I kissed you the first time and that professor woke up?”

“He tried to give me detention for the corruption of a minor.”

“And you weren’t even a student.  You know, the entire year he kept on asking me who you were and threatening to take more and more points from you when he finally discovered your identity.”

“Well, as you didn’t know my name, I am fairly certain that I am safe from his wrath.”

“Most likely,” Harry agreed, entwining their fingers.  “I love you, Artemis,” he whispered, glancing up through his eyelashes with his incredibly green eyes.  “Sometimes I can’t believe you’re not just a dream like I’d convinced myself you were.”

“It was my dream,” Artemis murmured, leaning his forehead against Harry’s.  “It’s understandable.  Now—turn around.”

Harry pulled away and looked into Artemis’s mismatched eyes in confusion.  “Why?”

“Why don’t you see?”

“Just because you have the highest IQ in Europe does not mean you can tease me unconditionally,” Harry quipped with a fond smile. 

“It’s not going to go away,” Artemis reasoned.

Harry’s expression turned pensive before understanding dawned on his features.  “How long?”

“Long enough, and don’t you want to see Krum rescue your cousin?”

He didn’t respond but instead, after taking a deep breath, turned to see Lucius and Narcissa standing a few feet away, patiently waiting for the conversation to finish. 

Harry quickly stood up, his hands briefly smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in his clothing.  Artemis quickly stood up behind him and pressed his hand into the small of Harry’s back in assurance.

“Hyperion,” Narcissa greeted, coming forward and tentatively kissing Harry’s smooth forehead.  “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”  She smiled kindly at him, clearly taking in his inhuman features.  “You are handsomer than Regulus,” she declared and then gestured toward her husband.  “My husband, Lucius Malfoy.”

Lucius stepped forward and offered his gloved hand which, after a moment, Harry accepted.  “It is a pleasure to meet a Black,” he stated.  “Welcome to our family, Hyperion.”

“Thank you,” Harry breathed as his hand was released, quickly seeking comfort again beside Artemis.  “My fiancé, Artemis Fowl the Second,” he introduced quietly and Artemis bowed his head in acknowledgment.  This was not his moment, but Harry’s.

Narcissa and Lucius returned the gesture.  “Where’s Draco?” she finally asked and Harry flinched.

“The Headmaster placed him in the lake as part of the task,” Artemis supplied, his voice low.  “We think it happened sometime last night.”

Narcissa paled. 

“Did they gain Draco’s consent?” Lucius drawled, looking between the two boys.  “Please tell me that man actually gained consent.”

Harry looked at Artemis questioningly.

“My vision ended before that could occur,” he finally admitted.

Harry’s green eyes snapped to his.  “I told you that you didn’t have to take it,” he said quietly.  When Artemis didn’t answer, he became more agitated.  “You saw my uncle rape my father—you don’t need to keep drinking the fairy dust.”

Artemis was startled.  “How did you—?”

“You stopped suddenly when telling me of your vision—I gathered from what you’d said earlier about Uncle Sirius’s affair with James Potter and the—violence of it.  How else would Regulus suddenly get those wounds?  It was clearly connected,” he reasoned.

Narcissa and Lucius exchanged a meaningful glance that Artemis caught out of the corner of his eye.

“Please, Artemis.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe,” he murmured.  “If I hadn’t done it, we never would have met and you never would have been warned.”

Harry deflated and turned back to the Malfoys. 

“Shall we go down to the lake?” Narcissa quietly asked and Harry nodded.  “So, Hyperion, where do you live?” she asked as the four made their way out of the now empty hall.

“Outside of Dublin,” he responded.  “I grew up in Ireland.”

“And you never attended Hogwarts?” she asked in surprise.

Artemis smiled to himself as Harry relaxed into the gentle questioning.

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