Fair is Fowl, and Fowl is Fair

Summary: Artemis probed too far and too deep, and awoke a sleeping dragon. What he didn't realise was how much he needed an awakening of his own. Artemis Fowl/Harry Potter crossover. Warnings for slash. Artemis/Harry.

NOTE: WARNINGS FOR SLASH

To Cen, for being such a trendsetter. Lol.

The ages of the twins and Marilyn have been bumped up from canon.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, nor the Macbeth quote from which the title is taken

Chapter Three

He led Harry down to the first basement, neither of them remarking when a bulky form detached itself from the shadows outside his room and followed them at a discrete distance. By right, they should still be in bed, Artemis marvelling at how well someone like Harry fit around and into his life, but there were still things that had to be dealt with, and dealt with at once. Artemis wasn't looking forward to them.

He led them to a room that was warded with a similar passcode as the dungeons, except that the vocal recognition was keyed into the Gnommish word for 'panopticon'.

It was a room filled with nearly a hundred monitors, nearly all of them tapping into the main security feed at the Fowl Manor. This was his own private security centre, where he dissected the comings and goings of enemy and ally, family and foe, alike. Artemis didn't actively track the feeds, too respective of his family's privacy to do so, but he had built a form recognition programme that included not only potential human hostiles, but non-human ones as well.

After the discovery of magic-wielding humans, he had also begun a programme which read magic pulses. Off to the side was a screen that measured seismic waves five hundred feet down throughout the entire Fowl grounds from a probe constructed through more stolen fairy technology. He was not letting another dwarf get the better of him. Thrice.

But what he had brought Harry down to see was a very particular section of monitors, securely sequestered off behind a partition. Harry turned ashen the moment he realised just what exactly these monitors were looking at.

"When I visited your school," Artemis began slowly, "I left behind more than footprints and memories. It is impossible to hide anything from this combination of magic and fairy technology."

They had nearly twenty visuals, mounted on tiny scuttle-pods not much larger than the common spider, constantly roving throughout the blustery Scottish castle. They picked up audio as well as visual, and after a couple of weeks of experimentation, Artemis had all his bugs record conversations with the key words 'Harry Potter'. As it was, he had heard close to a twenty-eight thousand conversations about the man standing beside him in less than six months, all from a school that numbered fewer than three hundred. Little to none of it was complimentary.

"I didn't need your information," he admitted quietly. "I learnt everything I ever needed or wanted to know about the British wizarding society months ago. But I wanted to hear what you thought. I wanted to hear if you thought they were worth it."

"Ho-how long have you-" Harry stammered.

"Ever since I visited Hogwarts." He paused. "Do you want to-"

"No." Harry's answer was immediate. "I don't want to hear it, I don't want to see it, I don't want to have anything more to do with it!"

Artemis stared at him, surprised at the unhinged outburst. But then he noticed how sickly Harry's face gleamed in the low light, and that his hands were violently trembling. Suddenly he realised that no matter how put-together Harry seemed, no matter how easy-going, laid back, or relaxed he appeared, the truth was that he was still healing. And Artemis was abruptly struck by the epiphany that Harry might need him just as much, if not more, than Artemis needed him.

He took Harry's hand and pulled him out of the room, not looking to see if Butler followed. His feet knew automatically where he was going, having travelled the same route even when he was more asleep than awake. Once inside the privacy of his rooms, he ushered Harry into a seat and pressed a waiting cup of tea into his hands. He had to wrap his own fingers about Harry's to stop the shaking in case Harry spilt tea over his lap and scalded himself.

"Talk to me, Harry," he whispered.

The other man bowed his head, leaving Artemis to stare at the thick crown of black he was endowed with. Harry's hair was nothing like he'd ever seen. The colour was so dark that it appeared to eat up any light that hit it.

Finally he looked up, and there was a lost look on his face that tugged at heartstrings Artemis would have sworn were absent this time yesterday. "What do you want me to say, Artemis?" he rasped. "That I resusc- no, rese- no- urgh, take back!" he exclaimed in frustration at the same time Artemis mutedly supplied, "Rescind."

Green eyes met blue-hazel in a rehashing of that moment between them a few hours earlier. "Exactly that," Harry agreed tersely, "rescind. Did you really expect me to rescind my decision to stay once I saw that? Did you honestly expect things to change?"

Artemis said nothing, and the other man's lips thinned.

"Fine," he snapped, "at least tell me this. If you had everything you needed to know from those cameras, then why did you even bother to pretend to ask me anything at all?"

"I wanted to hear what you thought," Artemis admitted. "How you felt about the other magicals, if they truly deserved what was coming to them."

Harry's face held no trace of emotion. "And what is coming to them?"

Artemis closed his eyes. "Once it's ready, I swear you'll be the first to know."

"And until then?"

Artemis found himself speechless. What was there left to say?

"I trust you'll let me know what your next step is," Harry said stiffly, before rising to go. The cup of tea slipped from his rigid fingers and shattered on the stone floor. The man paused, as if he was about to magic the mess away, but then he turned and left the room, leaving Artemis cold and alone.

Artemis had changed yet again, Butler once again concluded, as he alternated watching over the two young men his household now consisted of. While he and Potter had been nothing less than cordial to each other, there was a certain chill in their relations that even Angeline could not help but catch on to. Butler thought it was laughable how everyone immediately assumed it was his principal's fault. But then again, he supposed, having watched the pair's relationship as it rose and ebbed like the tide pulled by the moon, it honestly was mostly his principal's fault.

He had never known Artemis to divulge information as sensitive as the Hogwarts cameras as quickly as he had, especially to one as intimately involved with the situation as Potter was. And while logically, that step could have been interpreted as a mistake, Butler had a feeling Artemis had done that in an effort to bridge the gap between him and Potter, not widen it.

But his plan had, for the first time in many, many years, backfired on him. Potter had been badly shaken when confronted by reminders of his world. Butler only hoped his principal understood that the younger man had been pushing any and every thought of the British wizarding world from his mind, and a forced confrontation like the one Artemis had put him through would only trigger a whole lot of pain and anger before the catharsis of acceptance. Then he paused and thought it through carefully. If that was what Artemis had intended for from the start…

It only made sense, especially since his principal was careful with Potter, never quite revealing how much the other man's coldness hurt him. Butler couldn't imagine what it felt like for his young principal, so used to having his way, and having never to learn patience. He had been born with the sort of brilliance that ran circles in loop-de-loops around patience, even complete with the kind of asinine music they played on merry-go-rounds at the carnival. But somehow Potter was forcing him to understand that there were factors outside even his great all-encompassing equations.

He could only hope for both their sakes that Potter realised just what he was putting both himself and young Master Artemis before it was too late for both of them.

"Artemis."

It had been nearly two months. That meant Harry had been at the keep for about eight months in total. The man's silence had hurt, although Artemis was determined not to let the other see it. Harry didn't need that guilt-

"I'm sorry."

Artemis inwardly sighed. So much for that plan. Harry had been dashing them all left right and centre without even being aware of it. Artemis could only hope- and here his heart gave a twinge- that he didn't dash his dreams as well. He didn't know when he'd become this sentimental and morose and hated it, but couldn't bring himself to blame the man in front of him.

"It's no fault of yours, Ha- Mr. Potter," he quietly checked himself.

The man watched him with unreadable green eyes, before he shook his head and offered up a wane smile of his own. "I thought I told you to call me 'Harry', Artemis."

"I wasn't sure if you wanted-"

"If you weren't sure you would have called me 'Mr. Potter' right off the bar," he said tartly, taking a step closer. "You were hoping, Artemis."

He stayed silent and still, not agreeing or disagreeing with Harry's words.

"It isn't overrated, you know."

Artemis looked at him, slightly confused as to what he meant, although he'd never admit it. "I beg your pardon?"

"Hope," Harry replied, reaching out to take his hand. "It isn't overrated. You shouldn't think the results are never worth it, even when they don't seem like they are."

"Oh?"

Harry didn't answer, but his lips were on his, so Artemis didn't quite fault him for that. It seemed like they would have an 'after', after all.

He'd originally thought going into this again with a steady head would be more reassuring, that this time, at least, he knew what he was in for, but Harry was even more tender and caring than the last time. The other man seemed to have remembered every sensitive spot of his, both inside and out, and had used it against him to reduce him into a limp mess. His body just didn't know how to react to Harry except to shut down and shiver in anticipation of his next touch.

A mouth took a warm, wet bite out of his shoulder. "You're so tense," Harry murmured into his skin, even as his fingers expertly kneaded the knots out of his flesh. Then those fingers trailed down his shoulders and over his chest, thumbing his hardened nipples before twisting them till the pleasure bled into the pain.

Artemis could only shake his head, not quite able to manage much more than that. Thankfully, Harry seemed to understand, and crooned to him, rocking his hips deeper and making Artemis's loins shudder with feeling. He went lax beneath the younger man, biting his lip to hold his gasps back as he tried to open up his legs and his self to take even more of the man inside of him. Despite how often Harry ran his hands over his skin, Artemis found, absurdly enough, that he could never quite get used to the feeling. In fact, it seemed to intensify every subsequent time.

Artemis bit his lip even harder, trying to hold back the moan that threatened to escape from his lips, but there was a smirk on Harry's face, that said he knew exactly what the Fowl heir was doing, and nipped him on the collarbone as punishment. He couldn't help the yelp that escaped his lips. Harry smothered his laugh against Artemis's shoulder.

"You shouldn't hide your voice," Harry teased. "It's beautiful."

Artemis bit his tongue and hid his face against the younger man's flesh, grateful for the dim, barely-there light of their bedroom. Harry surged forward again, pushing and pushing and pushing– Artemis moaned wantonly, throwing his head back, and Harry was there to catch his chin and take him in the eye, watching his face as he shuddered and came all over their entwined bodies. They lay there for several moments, recumbing in post-coital bliss, trying to recover their breaths, and, for Artemis, what little of his dignity he had left.

"Will you tell me?" Harry asked, pressing his lips against his cheek, sensually rubbing his five o' clock shadow against Artemis's smooth face. Artemis had to hide a shiver. The younger man honestly was far too good at this, without even trying.

"What you've been planning, I mean. I'm not going to- to sabotage you, or anything, I just- I'd- I'd just like to know, really."

In some corner of his mind, Artemis had hoped Harry would have just forgotten about this altogether, but he supposed Harry wouldn't be Harry if he'd let this go, just like that. He shook his head, groggily, trying to prolong the inevitable for as long as he could. Finally, when he could delay no more, he sighed, and began to speak.

"It's a bomb I engineered, taking the technology from the fairies' DNA canons, as well as their time-stop. It will target only magic-users, and will do no physical harm to them. But once it is detonated, we will be the only two human magic-users left in the United Kingdom. "

There was a pause, and then-

"How do you even have the resources-" Harry cut himself off mid-sentence with a sigh, and a resigned shake of his head. "Never mind. Forget I even asked. I can't believe I forgot I was speaking to the Artemis Fowl, the Second," he said, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

Artemis smiled thinly, but did not reply. He was sure Harry was unaware of even a minute fraction of the true extent of the power his fortune, reputation, intellect, and technology wrought. He said nothing on that matter. He was uncertain if Harry was once again stalling, avoiding the true purpose of their conversation. Artemis also left unsaid the use of the two sleeping pills he had left beneath his pillow. He didn't want Harry going noble on him and fake taking the pill, once he understood how important that single pill was to be. No, Harry was much better off with him making the decisions on his behalf.

He closed his eyes, ready to curl into his lover's arms, and fall into the depths of slumber.

"Hand it over," Harry said, palm extended, blunt fingertips just nudging his chestbone.

Artemis's eyes opened cautiously. "I beg your pardon?"

"The pill," Harry explained. "Hand me the pill, please."

Artemis relaxed minutely. "There is no pill."

"The sleeping pill," the man continued, "which is probably either in the bedside drawer, or under the pillow, although knowing you you'd probably have another set secreted away somewhere secret. I sort of wish we were still wearing clothes, as that would give me an excuse to frisk you quite thoroughly while undoubtedly making it a very enjoyable process for us both, but I'd much prefer it if you just hand me that pill, so we could just have sex again without the agenda."

There was no getting out of this one, Artemis realised with a sigh, although if he were truly honest with himself, he didn't quite mind it half as much as he made it seem. He slipped a hand beneath his pillow and produced a single sleeping pill.

"How did you know?" he asked.

Harry plucked it from his palm with triumphant fingers. "Juliet," he said simply.

Artemis's pale face immediately darkened.

"Hush," Harry coaxed, brushing his lips against a cold cheek. "It wasn't really her fault. I, er, persuaded her."

Artemis stabbed Harry through with narrowed eyes. "Did you?"

The other man turned a whiter pall. "You won't tell Butler, will you?"

Artemis was silent for such a long time that Harry had begun shifting uneasily where he stood. "I'm afraid you'll have to do a little persuasion of your own on that matter," he finally said, coolly, causing Harry to react nervously to his tone before processing the words. And then lips on his cut off anything else he might have said, and there was a tongue in his mouth, and laughter on his breath. The hand on his knee slid north, skirting the inside of his thigh before the touch ventured somewhere intimate, making him gasp, and then Harry was pressing into him again, and Artemis moaned, disregarding the sharp pain and squelch of evidence from their previous coupling as he pushed up against Harry eagerly, bucking his hips in a bid to get more, more of him.

It was so easy, so easy to fall, to believe that this moment belonged just to them, and that a nation full of magical bigots didn't exist, that Harry was avoiding classifying his leaving the magical world as abandonment, that Artemis himself was pathologically inclined to perceive himself as superior to anyone and anything…

The younger man was chuckling quietly into his ear, even as his hands danced down to grip his length and roll his balls.

"I love you," he whispered, and Artemis was lost.

To tell the truth, Artemis had expected much more resistance on Harry's end. After all, he had struggled so long and so hard with his conscience, just to give into Artemis's own desires. He had to ask one last time, "Are you truly all right with this?"

His mother, having accidentally overheard their conversation, rocked back in shock and surprise. Artemis didn't blame her. He never reconsidered his decisions. And he never reconsidered them for anyone else.

Harry hadn't known the significance of this, and had smiled, at him, absently rubbing the sharp bones in his wrist. Artemis fought against the temptation to fidget, hating the reminder of how thin his frame still was as compared to the younger man.

"I made my decision then, Artemis," Harry had quietly assured him, "and I'm hardly going to go back on it, especially now." Then he had given him the most tender smile Artemis had ever seen directed at him. Unfortunately, it had also turned his insides into mush. And then Harry had drawn him close for a soft kiss, and all thoughts of his mother had vanished from his head, to be replaced by Harry.

"You wanted to know what happened."

The words drifted like dust motes in the near-empty room. They were standing there, in his room, entirely alone. Butler had left them to themselves, or at least with as complete an illusion of being alone as he could manage. In reality, the bodyguard was still standing guard in the antechamber, well within earshot of them. But all the cameras were off, all the bugs wiped. Artemis wouldn't permit any more witnesses to this moment than there already were.

His hand came up automatically to stroke the vivid skin about his lover's neck. Harry leaned into the touch, and Artemis marvelled at his openness with affection, despite knowing how he himself had been so deprived of it since young. Harry was casually handsome, with a smooth, square jaw, and clean, simple lines taut with hard-earned muscle for a body. He had emerald shards for eyes that peered out beneath mussed black bangs, and he was simply the most beautiful man Artemis had ever known. There were still moments where he couldn't believe that such a man would want him the way Harry did.

The listless thoughts almost made him miss the words Harry uttered next. Almost. Artemis froze when Harry's warm, dulcet tones penetrated his inner ear.

"Someone I once considered my best friend did- along with 80% Hydrochloric Acid. She wanted to know if I was ready to go up against you. Apparently you have quite the reputation in the Muggle world, Mr. Fowl, even if no file on you ever mentioned your kidnapping elves and killing trolls."

If Artemis had had any doubts going into this, they were eliminated now. His thin hands clenched against their furious trembling. He rarely felt any emotion of this magnitude, let alone anger, but it was hardly surprising, that if Harry could incite other feelings in him, that he would not incite this particular feeling on his behalf.

"She was a Muggle?" he asked, pleased with how his voice sounded almost cordial.

"Yes," Harry replied cautiously. "Granger was a Muggleborn. Her parents were dentists when she got her Hogwarts letter."

"I am going to destroy her," he said simply, "after I destroy your relatives."

Harry only sighed, and rested their brows together. "Oh, Artemis," was all he murmured, his fingers lovingly tracing the long line of his exposed throat.

Artemis's impressive oak desk, usually stacked with neat folders and brand new equipment, was entirely clear, except for a single detonator. It's red eye blinked innocently back at them every half-second.

"Once the switch is flicked, there can be no going back. Everything's been timed to give us a leeway of ten minutes each way."

"You've told me that at least ten times already, Artemis," Harry said patiently. "I know the drill, surely as well as Butler, if not you."

Despite the kind tone, Artemis somehow felt that he was being patronised, at the very least, or chastised. "I-" Even after the changes Artemis had felt stirring the long-dead organ in his chest, not that much had changed, and not that soon. It was hard for him to admit this sort of weakness, to someone he still, despite whatever he felt, he intellectually knew he'd known the younger man less than a year.

"Artemis."

The sound of his name made him raise his head, aided by cool fingers on his chin. "Tell me, Artemis. What it is?"

Artemis gripped his wrist tightly. "You- please," he said at last, hating the way the word left his mouth. Fowls prized their dignity above all else (well, maybe except gold), and a Fowl would never beg. But Artemis could not think of anything else to call it.

"Don't be a hero. You don't have to be one, not any longer; not for me, and most certainly not for them. If you love me- please, Harry. Please. That pill-"

It would be unimaginably easy for someone of his intelligence to drug the man before him, but Artemis couldn't bring himself to do it. It was a strange thing, he mused, having morals. No, perhaps not morals. Artemis had always had morals, even if they had fluctuated in that grey period before just meeting Harry. It was having someone, that he had to be accountable towards, that was unnerving.

Lips pressed against his, a warm and familiar weight. Harry tugged him closer, nestling his messy head beneath his well-shaved chin, and lining them up hip-to-hip. Fingers combed through his slicked back hair, doing more harm than good, really, as his dark locks tumbled down his pale, wide brow.

"What are you so frightened of, Artemis? Will you tell me?"

Hesitantly, he led Harry to sit on the bed beside him. Even when they were seated, he couldn't quite bring himself to speak for a while yet.

"I want to control you, but I don't want to at the same time. But if I don't, I'm…afraid, that you won't take the pill. And if you don't– I don't want you to leave." The last was said in a dead whisper.

Harry watched him for a long time, before sighing.

"I'm sorry. I never meant to make you this dependant, on anyone, least of all me. Not to say I'm about to do something that would cripple you in that way, none of the sort, honest," he hurried on to add. "I just know- or I get it, from talking to Butler, to Juliet, to your parents, or the twins- that you like your independence. You treasure it like I treasure my freedom, and I can see it sometimes, how you're awkward at handling my being here. Not to say that you're awkward, of course, or uncertain or insecure; Merlin forbid a Fowl be any one of those." There was a touch of a smile on Artemis's lips as he heard this.

"Huzzah!" Harry cheered quietly. "So there is a little humour left in the old bones." Then he smiled and continued, "I like my freedom. I like it very much. For a time I thought I'd just moved from one jail to another, but you taught me, Artemis, that love is both a prison and a fort."

When Artemis heard those words, he felt the most uncanny tingles spread from his chest right to his toes at the mention of that word.

"I wouldn't give it up for all the magic in the world. And if that's all you're asking- that I stay, that I keep my magic- you have to know that you're asking a lot less than you could get away with. I mean, honestly, I'd give up a lot more for you, just to show you, if you'd like-"

He was cut off by a wet chuckle. Artemis was laughing softly, a little choked, as if trying to release all the pent-up emotion inside of him.

"You absolute idiot," he said, and tossed back the pill, watching as Harry did the same, before reaching out for bottle of water. Once he'd taken a swallow to rinse the pill down, he passed it to Harry, again watching him mimic his actions.

Harry screwed the cap back on and placed the bottle off to one side. "Just yours," he teased, before pressing their lips together. But Artemis drew back the moment he felt fingers pull the detonator from his fist. There was an odd smile decorating the wizard's face as he held up the detonator, its lone red eye still blinking innocuously back at them.

"Here's to the fifth of November, revolutions, and all that rot," Harry said, and flipped the switch.

As they stared at each other for the longest time, nothing happened. But Artemis was counting the seconds down in his head.

Even if he had allocated an extra ten minutes for the sleeping pill to take effect, it should knock them out in less than five, and keep them out for the next twelve hours at least. The bombs would go off twenty minutes after that; one each for London, Glasgow, Cardiff, Belfast, and Dublin; it had not gone unnoticed by him that the students attending Hogwarts had spoken with a medley of accents comprising of all four countries that formed the United Kingdom, and the Republic of Ireland. Artemis had left no stone unturned in this venture. And if he just happened to have forgotten to mention this little detail to Harry…he had all the time in the world to convince the younger man otherwise.

A smile stretched his lips at the thought.

Artemis pulled him into the bed alongside him. "It's going to be a good day, tomorrow," he promised the younger man. Harry said nothing, merely rested against his chest with a sigh.

Darkness overtook them soon after, leaving them to each other's arms.

"A Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley reside in No. 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. The man, Vernon, works at a drill company Grunnings, while Petunia is a housewife, and Dudley attends a private school called Smeltings. This is apparently his fourth time retaking his last year. There is also a Marge Dursley who lives in Magnolia Drive. She breeds bulldogs that are known for their aggressive behaviour," Butler told his principal as he awoke, just slightly ahead of Potter, trusting that Artemis would be able to process the words even in his half-asleep state.

The bulldogs, in particular, would explain why Potter had shown to be rather adverse to canines when having met the wolfhounds the Fowl family kept on hand for hunting.

Butler needn't have worried about Artemis's state of alertness. A sliver of blue and hazel appeared beneath sweeping black lashes, even as he raised his hand for a familiar electric blue spark to leap from finger to finger. "And the Grangers?" Artemis asked, smiling grimly.

"Drs. Arthur and Margaret Granger. They own a private dentist practice in London proper, and have two daughters: one Hermione Jean Granger, who has no records past primary school, and an Emma Leanne Granger, who is currently in her last year at Oxbridge."

He watched as Artemis leaned over and murmured something unheard into Potter's ear, to which the man responded with an incoherent growl, a pillow blasting across the room, and his rolling over to pin the slimmer man onto the bed. Butler had to hide his amusement at the slightly nonplussed look on his principal's face.

"It is Hermione Jean that we want, then," Artemis muttered, trying to slip out from under Potter's body, but apparently too exhausted to find the strength to do so. Butler didn't offer his assistance, and merely watched as his principal gave up with a groan and slumped back against his pillows. "Although if I feel any worse than I already do this morning, I might just take it out on the rest of the family while I'm at it."

It was perhaps for the best that Potter had gone back to sleep, and that sentiment went unheard.

"Your parents were worried when the two of you missed both dinner and supper," he continued, addressing both of his errant charges, despite the fact that one of them was snoring softly into his principal's shoulder.

Artemis glanced back up at him, mismatched eyes still slightly foggy with the remnants of sleep. With a muffled sigh, he wiped the crust away from his dark lashes. "I trust you dealt with them adequately?"

"Yes," he replied stoically. "I informed them that the two of you were reenacting the finale scene of Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet'. Your mother was quite impressed, and was most enthusiastic about seeing it performed in full."

He had the vindictive pleasure of seeing his usually untouchable principal turn a pale green. It wasn't every day one had a leg up against the Artemis Fowl the Second. He watched as Artemis's thin lips thinned even further, although with resignation, not anger, and understanding that he deserved this jab.

"I also trust you didn't harm the twins too badly, nor will you be harming Harry?"

Butler allowed himself a single, tiny smirk, one that he noted didn't reassure Artemis in the least. His principal merely sighed with said resignation, although there was a ghost of a smile tracing his lips as well. Harry mumbled something in his sleep, and thoughtlessly pressed his lips into Artemis's mussed locks, the arm about his waist tightening just slightly.

It was a good day.

Butler gets the last word in (o: