A Piece of Mind

Chapter [16]

Draco didn't know what to make of Artemis Fowl. According to the list of rules hammered into his head since age five, Artemis wasn't supposed to exist; A muggleborn in Slytherin? Sure, there were a few half-bloods in Draco's house who weaselled their way in, staying quiet and out of the way for the most part. But a muggleborn? And not only that but a fifth-year transfer student?

The most irritating thing about him was that the Irish wizard seemed equally annoyed by Draco. Not scared or riled up or mad - but sighing at every encounter as if Draco was an... unfortunate hurdle, in his otherwise amicable day.

Draco had tried a number of different things; he had tried to make peace with the boy when they first met but was humiliated and denied. He had tried putting him in his place but was brushed off and his magic squashed like a frail bug. He had tried using magic to isolate and silence him but was overpowered without a second thought.

Draco tried to breathe normally, taking in the view from the abandoned astronomy tower. The sun setting over the mountains calmed him, even if for just a moment. Here he could see the beauty of something so much more important than him, something that had been around long before he existed, and marvel at it. No one watching, no expectations, no sick social games to mess up his life.

He rubbed a hand through his hair, feeling the cool breeze whip through it in a pleasingly rebellious way. Usually his hair was carefully gelled back in the same style it has been since Draco had hair. But no one was here to tell him off or see him unwind a little.

Leaning back against a stone pillar, Draco pulled out his wand and summoned a little fire to dance in his hands. He watched the dancing fire start to glow as the sun tucked itself behind the mountains and the chill soaked into his skin. The fire kept his attention and warmed him up. He lost track of time sitting up there, so much so that he startled at a thunking sound from below him.

He leaned cautiously over the wall and saw an owl pecking at a window. Dumbledore's window. It opened and a familiar, wrinkled old hand reached out to bring the owl inside. Draco heard voices from the window and in a moment of dying curiosity and slight insanity, he clambered clumsily over the stone railing and held onto some overgrown vines for support. Carefully climbing down next to the open window, the voices became clearer.

"... sure I don't know what you mean, Mr. Fowl," Dumbldore's voice floated softly through the cracked window. Fowl? What was he doing in the headmaster's office?

"Oh but you do, professor. And I don't know how else to say it: I do not wish to harm you or your people. I am not a spy, nor do I know much about the other side of this supposed war you're fighting. But I do know I want to help. If he succeeds, my family is at risk. My life is at risk. Everything I have fought for since my father's death is at stake. Surely you can understand my request."

Draco quieted his breaths as he readjusted his grip on the thick vines. He was surprised. Of anyone Dumbledore could be talking to at this hour, Artemis Fowl was maybe the last person to come to mind; he seemed to dislike the headmaster almost as much as Draco.

They must have been talking about the resistance to the Dark Lord. It was strange that Artemis sounded genuinely concerned about it. He seemed capable of hiding his family and himself if he truly was worried about their safety. It was not surprising in the slightest that Dumbledore was leading this resistance. Wait, did he say his father had died?

"...yes. But I thought it polite to ask for your permission first. If I have the opportunity to save the muggle world from a global genocide, then I will do everything in my power to help in any capacity that I can. And I have a great capacity to help indeed." Global genocide? What was he talking about?