The Family Name

The Family Name

By Slytherin Tattoo

Chapter 10

"Dear Butler, please phone my mother and let her know I'll be staying here over Christmas. Tell her I have some unfinished projects to take care of. How would you like to visit me over the holidays? I really want to introduce you to Malfoy. Be as threatening as you like."

Artemis clicked send on his computer and closed up his email. He was just hiding the fairy-powered computer back in his trunk when Crabbe and Goyle came in.

"You two look depressed," he said, locking his trunk.

Crabbe scuffed his foot on the floor. "Draco's really mad at you."

"I'm the one who got punched."

"He feels you humiliated him in front of everybody."

"He should have won the duel then. He challenged me, remember."

Goyle sighed. "I wish you two would get along."

"To tell you the truth, I'm rather unhappy with him right now, as well."

"He can't help it," Crabbe argued. "He's a Malfoy. He was raised that way."

"What way?"

"With his father telling him he had to be better than everyone else."

Artemis sat down on his bed. "Yeah, well, my father told me that the most important thing in life is gold. Aurum Est Potestas."

Goyle frowned. "Is your father really a criminal mastermind?"

"No. My father is a businessman. I am a criminal mastermind."

"Draco says. . ."

Artemis jumped up. "I don't want to hear what Malfoy has to say about my father. He better keep his mouth shut about my father!"

"OK, OK!" Crabbe held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Sorry."

"Yeah, well, you keep Malfoy away from me. Then we'll be less likely to fight."

_________ _________

Draco left Snape's office sulky and irritable; nevertheless, Crabbe and Golye decided to try again. "Can't you stop going after Fowl all the time? Please?"

"I can't believe you're even asking! Especially after what just happened!"

"Well, you did punch him. Twice," Goyle pointed out.

"He deserved it! I had to defend the Malfoy name!"

"Maybe you two could give it a rest with the whole family name business," Crabbe suggested hesitantly but quite seriously. "You don't hear the rest of us going on about our ancestors all the time."

"And don't even start with, 'that's because I have worthier ancestors,'" Goyle jumped in immediately.

Draco frowned. "Why are you both ganging up on me? You're supposed to be on my side!"

"Draco, you've been our friend forever. That's why we sit with you and guard your back. But we're not on either side."

"We're working for a truce between you someday."

Draco shook his head and started pacing in front of the common room fire. "I can't believe this!"

"He's upset right now, too, you know," Crabbe said. "He didn't like you hitting him."

Draco's lip curled. "Naturally. He's not really a very good fighter. But if it makes you feel better, I don't plan on hitting him again." It's too much--a loss of control, Draco thought. Too emotional. I have to keep my head clear. Oh, he is a smart one, that Fowl. And cool as ice.

"Really? Maybe you could lay off about his father, too." Goyle was flushed with his seeming success at persuasion. Draco hardly ever let them talk this long.

Crabbe felt encouraged, too. "Yeah, that upsets him."

"Enough conditions," Draco snapped. "I could care less about Fowl's delicate feelings. Get that straight. I don't like him! Besides, nothing upsets him. He's got no emotions, not really. He's hard-core Slytherin, and it would do you two good to remember it."

They exchanged confused glances. Draco groaned, disgusted. "Just forget it. I'm going to bed."

He headed off to the dorm. Crabbe and Goyle shrugged, sighed, and followed.

_________ __________

Malfoy was glaring at him again. It was beginning to get annoying, but Artemis would never let on. He was going to ignore the arrogant, blonde git. That would irritate him more than anything. He returned his attention to Prof. Flitwick. Beside him, Zabini gave Malfoy one last scowl and did the same.

"He's so stupid," Blaise wrote in the margin of his notes for Artemis to read. "He's still mad cause he wasn't competent enough to win that duel."

"I know," Artemis wrote back. "I'm the one that should be mad. He did hit me, after all."

"Do you reckon he's up to something?"

"Knowing him. . ."

His reply was interrupted by a loud voice, screeching, "Attack! Another attack! No mortal or ghost is safe! Run for your lives! Attaaack!"

They exchanged startled glances. Prof. Flitwick fell off his chair with an eep. The class went silent, then immediately started dreadful speculation. Artemis met Malfoy's gaze.

Then Draco stood up and strode to the door of the classroom. Artemis clapped Zabini on the arm and followed. Blaise scrambled to follow him as Crabbe and Goyle jumped up to follow Malfoy. Then the whole class was on its feet and out into the hall, searching for the disturbance.

They found a crowd of people in a huddle. They could see the head and shoulders of Nearly Headless Nick, hovering unmoving just above the students' backs, in the middle of the circle. People were milling about and talking until Prof. McGonagall pushed her way through the mob, firing off a bang from her wand, making everyone stop and go quiet.

The quiet didn't last long. A boy in Hufflepuff robes ran up, yelling, "Caught in the act!" and pointing at Harry Potter.

Artemis's eyes went wide as he followed the accusing finger past Potter to see another student lying petrified on the floor. And Nearly Headless Nick appeared to be petrified, as well. How could that happen? What could affect a ghost?

Then Peeves the poltergeist started flitting around, singing, "Oh Potter, you rotter, what have you done, you're killing off students, you think it's good fun," until McGonagall made him stop.

"For a poltergeist, he's very good at rhyme and meter," Draco said off-handedly to Artemis.

Artemis would have been amused if anyone else had said it. As it was, he just looked at Draco as more teachers came and carried Justin Finch-Fletchley off to the Hospital Wing. Artemis wondered if it was only their presence that kept Malfoy from yelling more anti-Mudblood slogans. His eyes narrowed.

Draco shifted in place. "What? It was just an observation."

"You don't care that another student was lying petrified in front of you?"

"He was a Hufflepuff and a Mudblood," Draco replied, softly.

"He was human and your fellow classmate."

"I hate you."

Artemis took a step back. "You really don't have a soul. I didn't believe it until now."

Draco went pale.

"Excuse me," said a boy, who was trying to fan the ghost of Sir Nicholas down the hall and up the stairs. Malfoy moved aside without a word, alerting Artemis to his disturbed state.

"This way, Potter," they heard McGonagall say off to the side.

"Professor," Potter protested, "I swear I didn't. . ."

"This is out of my hands now, Potter," she sighed and led him away. They didn't even seem to notice the two boys left standing there.

Then Artemis took a deep breath and said something he'd never expected to say to anyone, let alone Draco Malfoy. And he had no idea why he was saying it now, only--that last look Draco gave him before his eyes went blank--had he actually hurt him?

"I'm sorry, Malfoy. I didn't mean it."

Draco's eyes got huge.

Artemis gave a strange half-smile. "Don't drop dead from surprise, right? I just--perhaps I was being unfocused and overly emotional."

"I don't hate you," Draco blurted, then his eyes got even wider, and he flushed deeply. Then he spun around and hurried away, almost running.

Artemis stared after him, confused, shocked, flustered, and not feeling at all logical. But he pulled himself together after mere moments and headed for Gryffindor Tower.

He timed it right; three First Year girls were climbing into the portrait hole as he arrived. "Wait!" he called to them. They stopped and turned to stare at him--an older Slytherin male--with trepidation.

"You're friends with Ginny Weasley, right?" he said to them, trying to appear harmless. "I need to talk to her brother, Ron, or to Granger. Could you see if they're in there for me? Please?"

They looked at each other uncertainly. "OK. . ." one mumbled at last.

"Ruth!" another one squealed.

"It won't hurt anything!" She looked at Artemis. "Wait there." Then all three disappeared inside.

He waited. After a long moment, Granger stuck her head out. She looked sick with worry. "You heard?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Everyone ran back here to gossip."

She came out into the hall, and a few seconds later, Weasley appeared and joined them.

"What could petrify a ghost?" Hermione's face was full of misery.

"Did you get me a name yet?"

"Tom Riddle," she answered.

"Slytherin," Weasley supplied with suspicious eyes.

Artemis sighed. "Naturally."

"I did a little research on him already. I looked in old Hogwarts yearbooks. He was a model student. Prefect, Head Boy, popular--despite being a Slytherin. Everyone was sure he'd be somebody after he graduated. Somebody spectacular."

"So what became of him?"

"He disappeared off the face of the earth! I couldn't find any references to him anywhere."

"Riddle. . . is that a pureblood family?"

"I'm not sure."

"Thanks." He watched Granger wring her hands a moment longer, then, "They won't expel him. Not any evidence."

"You think?" Weasley sounded as if he wasn't daring to hope.

"Come on, is Dumbledore going to be taken in? He knows Potter."

They both looked a bit happier. "That's true. . ."

"There you go then." They smiled at him. "I better go."

"All right. See you later, Fowl."

"Yes." He marveled a little as he walked away. They'd actually seemed quite accepting of him there at the end.

___________ __________

Draco cursed himself roundly. What had he been thinking? Why did he say that? And then he had fled, like a shamed coward. If his father ever knew. . . hn, if his mother knew, either one would order him beaten for that little spectacle. Disgraceful.

But he knew what he'd been thinking. He flushed again, remembering. He'd been feeling guilty, he'd been thinking that he didn't want Fowl to look at him the way he'd been looking, and all because of some stupid Mudblood and a Gryffindor ghost.

He'd been thinking that he wanted Fowl to respect him, and that it might be nice to be friends as well as rivals. And why in Merlin's name would he think that? What was his problem?

But it was true that he didn't hate Fowl, after all, and he didn't want Fowl to hate him.

He sat cross-legged on his bed, curtains drawn, and concentrated on nothing but breathing in and out, until the voices in his head--Father's and Fowl's--finally could no longer be heard. Suddenly he heard Potter's voice instead. "I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks." Why can't I? "No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy." Think for yourself.

Breathe in and out.

_____________ __________

Artemis sat on his bed, three books open in front of him, and debated which to read first. One was his Astronomy textbook, one was The Theory of Alchemy, and one was A Wizard's Genealogy. After a moment he sighed, took one last regretful look at alchemy, shoved aside all worries about astronomy homework, and picked up the genealogy.

A couple hours later, he gave up in defeat. He would have to do this another way. That meant cross-referencing newspaper archives. He got up and headed for the library.

He thought as he walked. He couldn't ask any of the teachers about Riddle. They'd become suspicious. He was pretty sure by now the Ministry wasn't watching things here too closely, but he didn't want to draw any more attention to himself. He could've asked Madam Hooch, who he still visited with some regularity, but she hadn't been here 50 years ago. So. . .

"Make way for the Heir of Slytherin! Seriously evil wizard coming through!" Two voices proclaimed loudly.

Artemis looked up, startled, to see the Weasley twins frolicking ahead of Harry Potter down the corridor, shouting to everyone they passed. Artemis's eyebrows shot up.

The other Weasley, the Prefect, came stalking over. "This is not a laughing matter," he said, tone dripping disapproval.

Harry stopped, blushing. "I don't tell them to do it, they just do."

"Oh, get out of the way, Percy," ordered the one he thought was Fred, with a grin and wave of his hand. "Harry's in a hurry."

"Yeah, he's off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with his fanged servant," George chortled.

"Oh, don't!" cried Ginny, coming up behind them with Ron.

Ron frowned. "You're upsetting Ginny."

But they just laughed. George pranced on ahead, shouting again, "Make way! Make way!"

"Oh," Ginny wailed, and hurried back the way she'd come, away from them. Ron spun and followed her.

Harry sighed and continued walking. Percy argued with Fred a moment, then gave up. The other watching students just whispered to themselves behind their hands and edged away from Potter as he passed.

"His fanged servant," Artemis mused, frowning.

"What a disgusting display."

Artemis turned his head. "Malfoy. You don't agree with the masses in thinking Potter is Slytherin's Heir?"

"Of course not! His best friends are a Mudblood and a Muggle-lover!"

"This is true."

The Bloody Baron floated past them with a nod. "Baron," Artemis called impulsively.

The ghost turned back around. Draco forced himself not to take a step backward. He didn't like the glowing, silver blood, Slytherin ghost or not. "Fifty years ago, a boy went to Hogwarts by the name of Tom Riddle. He was a Slytherin Prefect, Head Boy. What can you tell me about him?"

"Won an award for special services to the school."

"Pureblood?"

The Bloody Baron eyed them speculatively. "Why do you want to know?"

"Research project," said Malfoy. "That's not a pureblood name."

"He was a half-blood," the Baron answered slowly, "if I remember correctly. Dad was a Muggle, Mother a witch, but he'd been orphaned. Consequently poor, but handsome. Well-liked, by both students and teachers."

"I don't suppose you know the names of his parents?"

The Baron frowned. "I might have then, though it's unlikely. But it's been 50 years."

"Do you know what happened to him after he graduated?"

"No." The Baron was growing bored by the conversation, and started to fade into the wall.

"Name of a girlfriend?" Draco hazarded.

"Yes. Eunice Longbottom."

"By any chance a relative of that moronic Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom?"

The Baron thought. "I do believe it's his grandmother," he replied, then faded away.

"Right then. Gryffindors should be in DADA now, I think." Artemis marched off. Draco followed.