The Family Name

The Family Name

By Slytherin Tattoo

Chapter 7

At lunch, Draco Malfoy deliberately sat across from Artemis and stared at him. Unfortunately, Artemis had no problem matching his stare. Neither broke, but neither got much eating done.

"Here," said Eva afterwards as they left the Great Hall. "I smuggled you out a sandwich."

Artemis actually gave her a genuine smile. "Thanks."

"What's Malfoy's problem now?"

"When has he ever needed a reason?"

"Maybe he's just nervous--the Quidditch match against Gryffindor is tomorrow."

Artemis shook his head. "There's more to it than that. But I'm not worried about him."

At dinner, Malfoy got in trouble with McGonagall for harassing some kid named Longbottom. He scowled and stalked out of the Great Hall alone. "I'll see you guys later," Artemis said, and followed him.

Artemis caught up to him in the corridor. It was empty but for them. Draco kept walking. Artemis just walked alongside him.

Draco looked at him out the corner of his eye. "What do you want, Fowl?"

"I was just wondering why you don't pick your battles better."

Draco stopped walking and stared at him. "What?"

"Seriously, Malfoy. You go overboard. You lose focus. Don't get so angry and wrapped up in taunting people. Keep your eye on the target."

"The target is taunting people."

"No, the target is upsetting the person, not getting upset yourself."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't want you to lose your head and mess up my strategy tomorrow in the game."

Draco's eyes suddenly bore through him.

"See, there you go." Artemis smirked. "Losing your temper again."

Draco took a deep breath. "Fine. From now on. . . I'll truly be an enemy to be reckoned with. How's that?"

For one brief moment, Artemis felt uneasy about baiting Malfoy, but then it went away. "Good. Because I would hate to think you were at less than your best."

Draco's eyes narrowed. He was starting to feel confused. Just what was Fowl's intent here, anyway?

Then the hallway began to fill up with other students going past them. Supper was over. They were given a wide berth and a lot of stares and glances.

Then they were surrounded, and Draco went off with Goyle and Crabbe and his girls in one direction, and Artemis walked away with Blaise and his girls in the other. He passed Ginny Weasley and thought to himself that she didn't look like she was doing very well, but Zabini diverted his attention to other things.

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"Dear Butler, tomorrow is our first Quidditch match against Gryffindor. By 'our,' of course, I mean the Slytherin Quidditch team, who I have advised after observation of
both teams and consultation with Madam Hooch. Tension is due to be high, because of the intense competition between Houses."

"Who are you writing?" Zabini asked, sitting down next to Artemis in the library.

Artemis looked up from his parchment. How to explain Butler? No wait, they'd met. "Butler. You met him at the train station, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Mum was eyeing him." Zabini grinned.

"Um, yes."

"What's that book for? Care of Magical Creatures?"

". . . no. . . I'm curious. About what kind of monster can petrify a cat."

"Oh." Zabini leaned back in his chair. "The chamber."

"I had been searching genealogy, trying to find the Heir to Slytherin. But I think that may be the wrong track. I think the creature is the key. What kind of monster could the Heir control? What can petrify someone, or outright kill them? Kill them how? And what do mysterious voices and spiders have to do with it?"

Zabini's face scrunched up in confusion. "Voices and spiders?"

"Never mind."

Zabini reached into his bookbag and pulled out two chocolate frogs. "Here. Have one."

Artemis smiled. "Thanks." He opened his, ate it, then looked at his frog card. "Ah. Dumbledore."

"Not surprised. Lots of those." Zabini took out his Transfiguration homework as Artemis read Dumbledore's card.

"Headmaster of Hogwarts, one of the greatest wizards of modern times, defeated Grindelwald in 1945, worked on alchemy with his partner, Flamel. . ." Artemis's voice trailed off.

"What?" Zabini looked over at him. Artemis's face had a strange expression.

"He worked on alchemy?" His voice sounded a bit odd, too.

"Yeah. . . they never perfected it, obviously. It's been determined to be impossible to turn anything to gold. Considering we can turn teacups into rats, you'd think we'd be able to. . . Artemis?"

Artemis came out of his apparent daze. "Yes. You'd think so, wouldn't you?--I really need to finish this letter." And he bent over his parchment again and began to write.

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Artemis sat in the stands, watching as the two teams walked out onto the Quidditch pitch. He sat in between Eva and Marie, with Zabini next to her, and Crabbe and Goyle on the other side of Eva. They were clapping and whistling for Malfoy. Eva was cheering her brother. Artemis, naturally, kept quiet.

Except to say, "I notice the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs are all rooting against us. Everyone seems to hate us, don't they?"

Marie gave him a worried look. She hadn't yet noticed Zabini inching his hand closer to hers in the hopes of holding it.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and the players took to the air.

They watched the match progress. "Hey!" Zabini exclaimed. "Wasn't that Parkinson's Pincer?"

"What?" asked a first year girl sitting in front of them. "A Park's Pincer?"

"Parkinson's Pincer," Eva corrected. "The move our chasers made--did you see? Pucey flew straight at Johnson and Flint and Montague closed in on either side. . . did you see?"

The girl's eyes and mouth formed round O's and she turned around to watch the game some more.

"What sort of move is that?" she squealed a bit later. "They all flew like an arrowhead! What was it?"

"Hawkshead Attacking Formation," Zabini answered shortly.

She bounced a bit in her seat and resumed watching.

Zabini rolled his eyes, gave up on stealth, and grabbed Chevalier's hand. She looked over at him, surprised, then smiled.

"Is it my imagination," Artemis said abruptly, "or is that Bludger always homing in on Potter?"

"Huh?" They all watched for a moment.

"It is," said Crabbe, surprised.

"How come?" Goyle scratched his head.

"Hmm." Artemis stopped watching the game and started scanning the crowd.

"They've called time-out. They must think so, too." Bole peered down, trying to see what was going on at the Gryffindor side.

"Did Flint or somebody jinx it?" Zabini frowned. "How come Hooch hasn't noticed?"

"Jinxing the Bludgers wasn't part of our strategy," Artemis responded dryly. "But. . . that doesn't mean he didn't."

"They're not stopping," Marie realized in amazement as both teams flew into the air again. "They're leaving Potter to deal with it."

"Huh. He's the Golden Hero. Let him."

"It's drizzling harder. . ."

Potter was zig-zagging all over the place, trying to keep away from the Bludger. Draco was watching him, smirking.

"Focus, Malfoy," Artemis muttered.

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Draco Malfoy sat on his broom in the rain, high above the ground. The game so far had been truly amusing, Potter's antics especially--he looked like he was training for the ballet. He moved forward, intending to mock him with this, when he happened to glance over at the stands and his eyes landed on Fowl. He was too far to see him clearly, but his remembered voice suddenly seemed to speak in his head. "Don't get so wrapped up in taunting people. Keep your eye on the target."

Draco stiffened. Why did everything have to remind him of that insufferable, arrogant prat? "Losing your temper again. I don't want you to mess up my strategy in the game."

That arrogant, insufferable. . . "Can't you think for yourself? You don't have a soul. Don't lose focus. . ."

"I will be an enemy to be reckoned with," Draco vowed out loud, through gritted teeth. "Come on then. . . where's the stupid Snitch?"

Merlin, merlin. . . it was two feet away, directly behind him. . .

He was moving. Distantly, he heard the crowd screaming, he sensed Potter behind him--had the Bludger just hit the Gryffindor?--but it was all dim and unreal. Reality was that Snitch, trying to run away from him.

He flew straight for it, missing by inches, diving after it now. Potter was coming up behind him--no! He wouldn't lose now! With a burst of speed from his superior broom, he pulled ahead, and felt his fingers close on roundness and wings.

He had it! He'd caught it! He couldn't believe it, truthfully, but there it was, held tight in his hand, raised above his head now, showing the world victory was his.

He pulled out of his dive in time to watch Potter, who had overextended himself, fall off his broom and hit the ground. He smirked, unable to help it. He looked away, though, flying closer to the Slytherin stands, eyes searching to find Fowl again, determined to see his expression.

But when he found him, his triumph turned to confusion, because Fowl met his eyes and smiled, as if satisfied, nodded as if to say, there--now you're a worthy opponent.

And Draco found himself smiling back, almost shyly, until he remembered himself, spun his broom around, and did a taunting, triumphant fly-by of the Gryffindor seats, before landing to stand with the rest of his team, to watch Lockhart make a mess of Potter's arm. The comic touch to the end of a delightful, almost dizzyingly wonderful game.

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There was a party going on in the Slytherin common room. The other students were toasting the Quidditch team with bottles of pumpkin juice, and all kinds of sweets were being passed around. Draco sat in the middle of the commotion, reveling in the praises being sent his way.

Eventually, Crabbe pushed his way through the crowd and asked Draco quietly, "Have you seen Fowl? He's missing."

"Who cares?" Draco retorted.

"But why would he miss out on the party?"

"Cause he's an idiot!" He shooed Crabbe away, who left, pouting. But now Draco was wondering. Why would he miss out? His strategies had let the Chasers lead by 90 points or so before the Snitch was caught. Just a little while longer, and they would have won even if Potter had caught the Snitch. Fowl could be here right now, gloating. So where was he?

After 15 more minutes, he couldn't stand it any longer, and made a quick search of the dungeons. Fowl was nowhere. He argued with himself a good 35 minutes more before he snuck out to go looking. And it was at least 20 minutes after that before he wandered across him completely by luck, heading towards the Hospital Wing.

They stopped, eyeing one another. "Malfoy."

"Fowl. What are you up to, anyway?"

"Something's going to happen tonight. Couldn't you sense it? The tension in the crowd. Everyone's thinking about other things now. This is a chance."

Draco stepped closer. "You're talking about the Chamber again."

"Yes."

"So what are you doing, you git--offering yourself as bait?"

Artemis smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm looking for spiders."

Draco blinked. "You're insane, true?"

"I'm tempted to explain, Malfoy, but I don't trust you."

Draco sneered. "You just don't know anything."

"Bye, Malfoy." Artemis passed by him and continued on his way, but Draco followed him. "Go away now."

"No, I don't think I will. I have every right to illegally walk the halls after dark, same as you. It'll be detention if we're caught, you know."

Artemis shrugged. "So we're careful."

Draco grinned. "You said we!"

"I can't come up with a way to get rid of you without hexing you, which I'd prefer not to do."

"Like you could! I'd stop you."

Artemis looked sideways at Draco. "That was a good catch today, by the way."

"Um. Thanks." There it was again, that strange shyness. Malfoys were confident and arrogant at all times! What was his problem? So what if he never would have even noticed the bloody thing if he hadn't had Fowl's words bloody echoing through his head. . .

Artemis threw out his arm, abruptly stopping. Draco ran into it, almost tripped, but stopped. "What. . ." he started to hiss, but Artemis fiercely cut him off.

"Voices!" he whispered.

Draco fell silent.

"Careful," a man's voice said softly, somewhere ahead of them. They shrank back into the shadows as footsteps approached. Two teachers, magically levitating a--person. A person lying straight and unmoving. They continued on, heading toward the infirmary.

"We're too late," Artemis realized. "Someone's already been petrified--or worse."

Draco drew in a breath, but said nothing.

Artemis tapped him on the arm. "Come on," he ordered, and followed the professors. Draco hesitated, then came.

At the door to the infirmary, the two boys huddled, peering in the window, ears listening at the crack in the door. Madam Pomfrey came rushing over to where Dumbledore had levitated the body.

"Another attack," they heard Dumbledore tell her. "Minerva found him on the stairs."

"Petrified?"

"Yes," McGonagall answered. "But if Albus hadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate, who knows what might have. . ." she trailed off.

Dumbledore reached down and pried a camera from the hands of the form on the bed.

"It's that dork Creevy," Draco whispered to Artemis.

"Did he get a picture of the attacker?"

Dumbledore opened the camera. Steam came hissing out.

"Melted. . . what does that mean?"

"It means," Dumbledore responded, "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."

McGonagall looked sick. "But, Albus. . . surely. . . who?"

"The question is not who," said Dumbledore, "but how."

"They're leaving," whispered Artemis, and the two boys rushed to hide.

Once they'd gone, Artemis found Draco looking at him with suspicion. "So--what have you really been up to, all alone? That opportunity you mentioned--did you take it yourself?"

Artemis rubbed at his temples. "No, of course not."

"Well. . . you don't seem like the killing type."

"The professors have no clue what's going on either, apparently. Who opened the Chamber last time? Where is the Chamber anyway, and how do you open it?"

"How many people have been expelled from Hogwarts? Is there a list somewhere? Then we could just match up the date."

Artemis's eyes went wide and he stared at Draco. "I can't believe you thought of that before I did."

Draco smirked. "It's the superior Malfoy intellect."

"Shut up. All right, I'm going back to the dungeons now. First thing tomorrow, I'll look in the library."

"Yeah, well, I'm going with you. I don't trust you to tell me what you find out."

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