Holly kicked a small trash can by the entrance to the building in frustration. No Artemis. She had followed multiple trails, leading her from place to place, but no sign. It was already January! Once, a couple stops back, she had gotten close enough to see Artemis through a window, but upon entering, he was gone! If Holly didn't know better, she'd say that he had done the impossible and invented a teleporter. However, as even fairies did not have teleportation technology yet, she highly doubted it was true.

Then again, with Artemis, who knew.

Holly glanced around the empty room once more, the computers still warm from being used. Eyes narrowing, she flipped her visor to heat vision. Same as before, the computers were warm, the fireplace was still warm, but no other signs. The room was elegant, but simple. It held all the minimum comforts for one of Artemis' ego, but lacked in the showy aspects. He clearly didn't bring guests here.

"Foaly? No change," Holly said, tapping the side of her helmet.

"That's where you're wrong, Holly. You see, I recently acquired a new piece of fascinating information," Foaly responded.

"What?"

"Artemis is a teacher at a magic school!"

"...what?"

"Apparently, he's a wizard."

"Foaly, please explain," Holly said shortly, her temper beginning to get the better of her.

"Alright, well, Butler called a little while ago, and he explained what he could. He doesn't know the details, but apparently the magic Artemis got from you jump started something in his brain and turned him into a wizard. From there, he found a bunch of other wizards, then decided to initiate his insidious scheme by becoming a teacher in this society."

"Foaly, are you pulling my leg?"

"Of course not! I'm underground."

"D'Arvit, Foaly! Be serious!"

"Alright, alright. No, I'm not messing with you. That is what Butler told me. He also told me that he can bring you relatively close to an entrance to this magical world, but he cannot enter it himself. You're going to meet up with him in London at the corner of Maple St. and Charing Cross Road, and he will show you the approximate area."

"Wait, so Artemis is really a wizard?"

"Well, that's what Butler says."

"Who decided it would be a good idea to give Artemis magic?!"

"You."

"I swear Foaly, one day I will burn all your computers."

"If you did that, you wouldn't be able to fly anymore."

"Without Artemis around to hack your things, you've gotten a really big ego, you know that Foaly?" Holly said back as she powered on her wings and took to the air.

…

"Welcome back, Professor Fowl," Dumbledore said congenially as Artemis walked in through the door. Immaculate as always, his appearance betrayed none of the chaos within, or so Artemis liked to think. Dumbledore looked over the edge of his glasses with concern.

"Did you have a restful break?" He asked. 10 words total. Artemis nodded his head and smiled gently.

"Yes, though I did not see a friend of mine. We had planned to meet up, but I had a few doubts about our appointment." 15 words.

"I understand. Though if we doubt even our friends, it will become a lonely world. Perhaps you could send a letter?" 21 words. 3 times 7. Artemis shuddered and this conversation suddenly seemed a lot less welcoming. A shadow seemed to rise up behind the twinkling form of the Headmaster, dragging all his suspicions to he front once more. This man was a manipulator, and he had carefully arranged for so much to happen at Hogwarts. Well, if he thought Artemis would be a pawn in his game, he was wrong. Artemis was no pawn, he was a player.

"Perhaps. If you would please excuse me, I believe I have a letter to write." 15 words. Artemis turned around, trying to ignore the soft blue eyes following him, twinkling with the blood of a thousand innocents. He shuddered as the demonic shadow failed to leave him alone, despite his rush down the hall to his rooms.

Suddenly, Artemis froze. What was he thinking, go straight to the room chosen for him by Dumbledore? He'd taken all of his things with him when he left, but who was to say that Dumbledore hadn't set up some kind of surveillance in his absence? He turned. He knew from last semester that there were other guest rooms, and one of them was hidden behind a painting of two fighting trolls a little ways from his own. He could walk to his classroom in the mornings, he didn't need to have his room and office connected to it.

Arriving at the portrait of the trolls, he tapped the edge of the frame with his wand, knowing that was how to set a new password.

"Gobbledygook," Artemis said clearly. The two trolls temporarily ceased bashing each other's heads in to look at him as the door opened. Artemis stepped in before it occurred to him that the paintings could report his change of room to the Headmaster. He stepped back out and cast a strong silencing spell on the trolls, who immediately began hassling him with very rude gestures. Artemis ignored it as he stepped back in and closed the painting behind him. Besides, it would probably be much more quiet without having to listen to the trolls' grunts all night as they fought.

Artemis silently enlarged his bags and began to unpack, trying to think of more ways to protect his things and prevent any more incidents. He didn't want students or teaching coming into his room to steal his things. Carefully folding his clothes into color coded piles of five, he gently set them into the drawers of his dresser. Feeling a light painful pinch in his stomach, Artemis frowned. He was hungry, but could he trust anything made by the elves? They were, after all, the servants of Dumbledore, and would probably be willing to put a poison of some kind into Artemis' food if that man asked it.

Artemis eyed a small pot of dust he'd brought into the room with him. He knew floo was trackable, relatively speaking, because it was a regulated network hosted by the Ministry, much like the internet in the non-magical world. However, it became a matter of analysis. He had three options. He could floo to a store, or even a farm to reduce his chances of poison further; he could go to Hogsmeade, but the other teachers went there all the time and he knew most of the residents were very loyal to Dumbledore; or he could walk off the grounds and apparate. No, wait - there was the fourth option of eating the food from the House Elves, but that was his least favorite option.

Four options. Four options for each meal, for each day. Artemis shuddered; he needed to think of a fifth option to at least balance it out. Having to choose from four possible strategic options each day? That was just asking for everything to go badly. What else could he do? He could...hunt something down. There, that was a fifth option. He could try to hunt something from the Forbidden Forest. Was it a liable option? Not really. But it was a 5th option and a possibility. However, for now, Artemis swung his cloak over his arms and fastened the front closed. He began his walk down the stair and out across the grounds to the edge of the apparition ward.

…

It had been a week since the Christmas break had come to an end. Harry was not having fun whatsoever. The reason? He'd begun taking Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape. Also, Professor Fowl had become less and less of an efficient teacher. Instead, he'd begun acting and teaching more like Professor Quirrell every day, which was making Harry slightly paranoid. It didn't help that Professor Fowl had taken to bringing in his own food and drink to meals, making most of the student body very concerned. After all, when someone who seemed normal starts acting like an abnormal mix of Moody and Quirrell, you tend to take notice. Hermione had begun looking into it more and more, though she wasn't quite sure what they were looking for. The trio, however, had bigger concerns than their strange teacher, the first Friday morning of the new semester. Hermione's Daily Prophet had arrived and carried with it terrible news.

Hermione's yelp of surprise managed to grab Ron and Harry's attention, and she spread the newspaper on the table in front of them and pointed at ten black-and-white photographs that filled the whole of the front page, nine showing wizards' faces and the tenth, a witch's. Some of the people in the photographs were silently jeering; others were tapping their fingers on the frame of their pictures, looking insolent. Each picture was captioned with a name and the crime for which the person had been sent to Azkaban.

'Antonin Dolohov,' read the legend beneath a wizard with a long, pale, twisted face who was sneering up at Harry, 'convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett.'

'Algernon Rookwood,' said the caption beneath a pockmarked man with greasy hair who was leaning against the edge of his picture, looking bored, 'convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic secrets to He Who Must Not Be Named.'

But Harry's eyes were drawn to the picture of the witch. Her face had leapt out at him the moment he had seen the page. She had long, dark hair that looked unkempt and straggly in the picture, though he had seen it sleek, thick and shining. She glared up at him through heavily lidded eyes, an arrogant, disdainful smile playing around her thin mouth. Like Sirius, she retained vestiges of great good looks, but something - perhaps Azkaban - had taken most of her beauty.

'Bellatrix Lestrange, convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom.'

Hermione nudged Harry and pointed at the headline over the pictures, which Harry, concentrating on Bellatrix, had not yet read.

MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN

MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS 'RALLYING POINT'

FOR OLD DEATH EATERS

"Black?" said Harry loudly. "Not - ?"

"Shhh!' whispered Hermione desperately. "Not so loud - just read it!"

'The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban. Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals.

"We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirius Black escaped," said Fudge last night. "Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals, and we beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached."'

"There you are, Harry," said Ron, looking awestruck. "That's why You-Know-Who was happy last night."

"I don't believe this," snarled Harry, "Fudge is blaming the breakout on Sirius?"

"What other options does he have?" said Hermione bitterly. "He can hardly say, 'Sorry, everyone, Dumbledore warned me this might happen: the Azkaban guards have joined Lord Voldemort' - stop whimpering, Ron - 'and now Voldemort's worst supporters have broken out, too.' I mean, he's spent a good six months telling everyone you and Dumbledore are liars, hasn't he?"

Hermione ripped open the newspaper and began to read the report inside while Harry looked around the Great Hall. He could not understand why his fellow students were not looking scared or at least discussing the terrible piece of news on the front page, but then again, very few of them took the newspaper every day like Hermione. There they all were, talking about homework and Quidditch and who knew what other rubbish, when outside these walls ten more Death Eaters had swollen Voldemort's ranks.

He glanced up at the staff table. It was a different story there: Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were deep in conversation, both looking extremely grave. Professor Sprout had the Prophet propped against a bottle of ketchup and was reading the front page with such concentration that she was not noticing the gentle drip of egg yolk falling into her lap from her stationary spoon. Professor Fowl was staring at a barely visible newspaper sitting flat on the table in front of him, so focused on his thoughts that Snape could do a jig in a tutu in front of him and he wouldn't even notice. Meanwhile, at the far end of the table, Professor Umbridge was tucking into a bowl of porridge. For once, her pouchy toad's eyes were not sweeping the Great Hall looking for misbehaving students. She scowled as she gulped down her food and every now and then she shot a malevolent glance up the table to where Dumbledore and McGonagall were talking so intently.

"Oh my -" said Hermione wonderingly, still staring at the newspaper.

"What now?" said Harry quickly; he was feeling jumpy.

"It's . . . horrible," said Hermione, looking shaken. She folded back page ten of the newspaper and handed it to Harry and Ron.

TRAGIC DEMISE OF MINISTRY OF MAGIC WORKER

'St Mungo's Hospital promised a full inquiry last night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderich Bode, 49, was discovered dead in his bed, strangled by a pot plant. Healers called to the scene were unable to revive Mr Bode, who had been injured in a workplace accident some weeks prior to his death.

Healer Miriam Strout, who was in charge of Mr Bodes ward at the time of the incident, has been suspended on full pay and was unavailable for comment yesterday, but a spokeswizard for the hospital said in a statement:

"St Mungo's deeply regrets the death of Mr Bode, whose health was improving steadily prior to this tragic accident.

"We have strict guidelines on the decorations permitted on our wards but it appears that Healer Strout, busy over the Christmas period, overlooked the dangers of the plant on Mr Bode's bedside table. As his speech and mobility improved, Healer Strout encouraged Mr Bode to look after the plant himself, unaware that it was not an innocent Flitterbloom, but a cutting of Devil's Snare which, when touched by the convalescent Mr Bode, throttled him instantly.

"St Mungo's is as vet unable to account for the presence of the plant on the ward and asks any witch or wizard with information to come forward."'

"Bode..." said Ron. "Bode. It rings a bell..."

"We saw him," Hermione whispered. "In St Mungo's, remember? He was in the bed opposite Lockhart's, just lying there, staring at the ceiling. And we saw the Devil's Snare arrive. She - the Healer - said it was a Christmas present."

Harry looked back at the story. A feeling of horror was rising like bile in his throat.

"How come we didn't recognise Devil's Snare? We've seen it before . . . we could've stopped this from happening."

"Who expects Devil's Snare to turn up in a hospital disguised as a pot plant?" said Ron sharply. "It's not our fault, whoever sent it to the bloke is to blame! They must be a real prat, why didn't they check what they were buying?"

"Oh, come on, Ron!" said Hermione shakily. "I don't think anyone could put Devil's Snare in a pot and not realise it tries to kill whoever touches it? This - this was murder...a clever murder, as well...if the plant was sent anonymously, how's anyone ever going to find out who did it?"

Harry was not thinking about Devil's Snare. He was remembering taking the lift down to the ninth level of the Ministry on the day of his hearing and the sallow-faced man who had got in on the Atrium level.

"I met Bode," he said slowly. "I saw him at the Ministry with your dad." Ron's mouth fell open.

"I've heard Dad talk about him at home! He was an Unspeakable. He worked in the Department of Mysteries!"

They looked at each other for a moment, then turned to Hermione, but she was focusing on another page of the newspaper. Ron glanced over her shoulder to see her focusing on a small ad for fairy parts.

"Hermione, what are you looking at?" Harry asked, utterly bewildered. Why in the world would she be reading an ad for Dwarf Fairy parts when there was clearly evidence of a Voldemort-ego-sized conspiracy going on?

"I wonder if..." Hermione started, trailing off as she thought to herself. Suddenly, her face hardened and she pulled the other pages of the newspaper back towards her, closed it, glared for a moment at the pictures of the ten escaped Death Eaters on the front, then leapt to her feet.

"Where are you going?" asked Ron, startled.

"To send a letter," said Hermione, swinging her bag on to her shoulder. "It, well, I don't know whether...but it's worth trying...and I'm the only one who can."

"I hate it when she does that," grumbled Ron, as he and Harry got up from the table and made their own, slower way out of the Great Hall. "Would it kill her to tell us what she's up to for once? It'd take her about ten more seconds - hey, Hagrid!"

Hagrid was standing beside the doors into the Entrance Hall, waiting for a crowd of Ravenclaws to pass. He was still as heavily bruised as he had been on the day he had come back from his mission to the giants and there was a new cut right across the bridge of his nose.

"All righ', you two?" he said, trying to muster a smile but managing only a kind of pained grimace.

"Are you OK, Hagrid?" asked Harry, following him as he lumbered after the Ravenclaws.

"Fine, fine," said Hagrid with a feeble assumption of airiness; he waved a hand and narrowly missed concussing a frightened looking Professor Vector, who was passing. "Jus' busy, yeh know, usual stuff. Lessons ter prepare - couple o' salamanders got scale rot - an' I'm on probation," he mumbled.

"You're on probation?" said Ron very loudly, so that many of the passing students looked around curiously. "Sorry - I mean - you're on probation?" he whispered.

"Yeah," said Hagrid. "S'no more'n I expected, ter tell yen the truth. Yeh migh' not've picked up on it, bu' that inspection didn' go too well, yeh know...anyway," he sighed deeply. "Bes' go an' rub a bit more chilli powder on them salamanders or their tails'll be hangin' off 'em next. See yeh, Harry, Ron."

"Hagrid, before you go, do you know anything about Dwarf Fairies?" Harry asked, mind thinking about Hermione's strange focus.

"Eh? Wha'cha need ter know 'bout them for?"

"Just something we came across in our Potion's textbook," Ron explained, picking up on what Harry was trying to do.

"Well, Dwarf Fairies are 'xtremely rare creatures. Really fas', an' really good at hidin' from folks that want ter use 'em. The Goblins are real good at catchin' dead 'uns, but live 'uns are another story." Harry and Ron glanced at each other, not really sure what they were looking for in the first place.

"Er, thanks Hagrid," Harry said. Hagrid nodded and trudged away, out of the front doors and down the stone steps into the damp grounds. Harry watched him go, wondering how much more bad news he could stand.

…

A magic school. A freaking magic school. Luna had been telling the truth the entire time. Holly flew carefully, following the tracks away from the busiest train station in the world. She grumbled a little about having to go back to where she had been, but at least she knew now what she was doing. She flew miles and miles across the green of Scotland, staying low so that when her wings finally began sputtering, she was able to land safely. Walking back a few yards, she tested her wings and found them able to work. So, she set them carefully on the ground behind a tree and activated the GPS beacon so she could find them again later and so Foaly could have a general location of the school.

From there, she grit her teeth and walked on foot the rest of the way. From the tracks to the station, through the quiet town, and up the hill to the castle. It had taken her much longer than it should have, but she was finally there, looking at the giant castle once more. And, once more, she had lost connection with Foaly despite his insistence that the helmet would work with the little upgrade he had given it. Holly huffed as she walked around the perimeter of the school, trying to find an open door. Her eyes widened as she saw a girl with huge bushy hair walking down towards the cabin a little ways away from the school. Holly flickered out of the human visible spectrum, vibrating as she followed the girl. With any luck, this would be her ticket in.

The girl entered the cabin and closed the door behind her, but Holly was able to go up to the door and press one ear against it.

"Hello Hagrid,"

"'Ello Hermione! Wha'cha doin' 'ere?"

"I heard about your probation from Ron and Harry. I'm so sorry Hagrid, that woman is such a horrible mean old rotten toad!"

"Hermione, a lady shouldn' talk like that."

"But it's true!"

"It don' change the fact that it 'appened, an' I don' want you or 'Arry or Ron tryin' ta change it. You'll jus' get in trouble."

"We know, Hagrid. But still!"

"But nuthin'." There was silence for a moment before the girl spoke again.

"Hagrid, what do you know about Dwarf Fairies?"

"Eh? Firs' Ron an' 'Arry, now you?"

"Ron and Harry asked too?"

"Yeah. Tol' them tha' Dwarf Fairies are really rare."

"Hagrid, is it true that the Gringotts Goblins are the best at obtaining Dwarf Fairy parts?" Holly felt herself cringe for whatever species these 'Dwarf Fairies' were, probably a group she knew by another name. She silently hoped they were pixies.

"Yeah -"

"Why?"

"Well, uh, probably 'cause the Goblins know where ta find the buggers."

"Hagrid, is there any way for a human to get Dwarf Fairy healing abilities?" Holly felt her breath hitch.

"Now why in the worl' would ya ask me that?"

"It's just, I think I saw Professor Fowl healing himself with blue sparks, the same way that a book said Dwarf Fairies could heal themselves." Holly's eyes widened. She'd finally hit a lucky break!

"Well, uh, no, I don' thin' there's a way for a person ta get Dwar' Fairy powers. Professor Fowl is a genius though, he pro'ly figured out a way ta mimic them."

"I see. Alright Hagrid, thank you for the tea, I have to be getting back to homework."

"It was good seein' ya Hermione, say 'ello to Ron and 'Arry for me, would ya?"

"I will, goodbye Hagrid!" Holly scampered away from the door and vibrated out of sight just as it opened to reveal the girl with the bushy hair once again. She tightened her scarf around her neck before she closed the cabin door and started walking back towards the castle. Holly bit her lip, thinking, before deciding that it was worth any risks.

"Wait!" Holly called out. The girl, Hermione, turned around to look at her with wide eyes.

...

I thought it would be fun to get a bit more of Harry, Ron, and Hermione in. Review please!