Fowl Manor:

Artemis rose early for breakfast as usual despite his fatigue and walked down to the kitchen. The smell of eggs frying met him on the stairs, and he saw that his parents were already eating. He was about to join them when Butler attracted his attention.

"Artemis?" he called from the lobby, "Can you please come here?"

He walked over to the bodyguard, wondering about the odd tone in his voice. When he came around the corner, he saw the brief look of concern in Butler's eyes. It was starting to annoy him, really. While a sufficient cover story had been given to his parents, Artemis had told Butler everything. He did not dwell on Lestrange or what she did to him, but the unwanted memories haunted him at night. And however well he hid his weariness during the day, Butler could always see the effects of sleep punctured by nightmares.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait until after breakfast," he said testily.

"No," replied Butler in a strained voice, "I don't think it can." He pointed out the window.

A large, red-eyed eagle owl was sitting on the railing next to the steps. It glared at them through the window and let out a screech quite unlike its namesake. Both of them stared at it for several seconds before it flew over and started to strike the window with its beak. Artemis snapped to attention and flipped the latch to receive the large raptor.

"Why is there an owl here?" Butler asked calmly, showing how out of sync this was with his view of the world.

"I think," Artemis began, watching as the owl presented one wickedly clawed talon, "someone is trying to contact me." There was a roll of parchment tied neatly around the bird's leg. He delicately untied it, but before he could read what it said, another owl flew in and landed on the windowsill. It was a barn owl, and it had another, slightly thicker roll of parchment around its leg.

"You mean, from them?" Them meant the wizards; at least until they could come up with a better codename.

Artemis was now reading over the first message. "Exactly. It took some convincing, but the Headmaster agreed to keep me informed. At least informed of the relevant things."

Mental alarm bells began ringing. "And what would constitute something as being 'relevant'?" Butler asked suspiciously.

Artemis waved the question off as he started reading the second message. He didn't speak, just skimmed his eyes over the neat writing. Without looking up, he moved towards the stairs, breakfast forgotten. "Please excuse my absence to my parents," he said as an afterthought, and disappeared downstairs.

Butler was left wondering what could have distracted his charge so completely while the owls waited patiently by the window, and occasionally pecked at his fingers for food.

Hogwarts:

Harry emerged from the History of Magic classroom still sneezing. As part of his punishment he had to dust all the historical artifacts both on display and in storage. It had taken hours, and, if the stiffness in his back was any judge, he wouldn't ever be able to stand up straight again. Thankfully, this was his last day of detention, and he would be free to get into mischief once more.

Having missed most of dinner, he thought he would just sneak down to the kitchens to grab something. He met up with Ron coming out of the Great Hall.

"Slimy git," he muttered darkly.

"Who?" Harry asked, startled.

"Who else? Malfoy." Ron nodded towards a side corridor, where Malfoy and his cronies were receding quickly from view. "He had something to do with it. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it! How else would she know where to look for him?"

Ron's rant, while cryptic to anyone else, made perfect sense to Harry. When they all had time to catch their breath and think, it became obvious who would have helped Lestrange. It would have been easy enough to follow Neville, and then give his location to her. The only trouble was that there wasn't any way to prove it.

As usual.

It was several minutes before Ron could move on to another topic. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said, reaching into his robes, "Hedwig dropped this off for you at supper." He handed Harry a piece of parchment. "It's from Snuffles."

Harry opened it to find the expected concerns about his safety, scoldings for putting his friends in danger, and the poorly-hidden amazement at what he'd done. The postscript, however, was far more interesting.

By the way, I've receive word from the others at No. 12 that some unusual funds have been coming into the Order's account. Back in the old days, it wasn't that strange to find people making donations, anonymously of course, but they were always small amounts, the little people could spare without drawing attention to themselves. This is larger than any of those. We've tried to trace them, but the goblins are being even more tight-lipped about it than usual.

Harry stopped walking as a strange idea crept into the back of his mind. It was so out-of-place that it was instantly pounced on by common sense and done away with. Large donations…No, it was too far-fetched, not even worth mentioning to the others.

They met Hermione coming out of the kitchens. "Hi, guys. I was just talking with the house-elves. Most of them still think that getting paid is some sort of sin."

Ron turned away to cover a snicker while Harry presented to note from Sirius to her. "Read the bit at the bottom," he said.

Hermione took the message in quickly, then leaned back and murmured, "That's curious…"

"What?" asked Ron, now that he had recovered himself.

"I got this a little while ago," she replied, digging in her robes. "I've never received something like this. You think they have something to do with each other?" She held out a neatly folded square of paper, not parchment, but the kind Muggles would use. Harry unfolded it and saw a short sentence that had been printed out from a machine.

It read, Arrangements have been made.

"Why would you think they had something to do with each other?" Ron asked.

Hermione instantly started to blush. "Well, I was just writing letters home, you know, as I do, and I thought, 'well, I have his address here anyway, and you can hire owls to go the distance, so why not,' and I asked him to write back, so maybe he's not much of a writer." She trailed off, mumbling.

Ron stared at her. "You wrote to Artemis Fowl?"

"Yes, I did," she said a trace defiantly.

"Can I see that note again?" broke in Harry, trying to divert a row.

He read the four words over, trying to decipher any meaning from them. If it was from him…what was he trying to say? Harry recalled one of the last conversations they had together. Dumbledore has allowed me to keep my memories; they could yet be beneficial.

Harry looked back to Sirius's note. Unusual funds.

Artemis's note: Arrangements have been made.

As the idea crystallized in Harry's mind, he spontaneously threw back his head and laughed. He wondered how the goblins were able to convert euros to Galleons.

Arrangements have been made.

Farewell, my loyal readers! I'm off to ride majestically into the sunset in a blaze of delusions and peanut butter. I have become both humbled and enamored with your glorious reviews, and I wish to live up to your expectations of me by continuing to write in the same manner you have come to anticipate.

Enough with the fluff, let's get some dedications here! To name each reviewer from each chapter would take far too long, so I would like to send a thank-you to all of them right now. THANK YOU!!

Also thank you to the many readers who chose not to leave a review (you know who you are, I've seen the numbers).

To drop a few names, watch JadeAshes, whom I have given permission to be able to write a sequel from Butler and the fairies points of view. Thanks for feeling this was worthy of a sequel!

And to Dim Aldebaran, for nominating me for the 2007 Orion Awards, set up to celebrate the best in Artemis Fowl fanfiction. (also, may I add, I have just learned that my other Fowl fic, The Future of Fowl, was shortlisted for Best Complete Chapter and Best/Most Memorable Line. Neither of them won, of course. Maybe next time. Make sure to vote!)

45 points to KASLiNN for noticing the nod to The Lost Colony, Pomfrey talking about 'residual magic.' And to the reviewers who saw that the last paragraph was the reverse of the first one.