Artemis hasn’t changed, she thought, peering through the glass.

His eyes still held that cold, arrogant intensity she remembered, even unfocused as they looked through her out onto the manor grounds.  A few inches of height seemed to be his only concession to the years since the mind-wipe.

“Subject has made no conclusive movement,” she reported. 

“Roger,” returned Foaly. “Resume radio silence until scheduled check-in.”

She disconnected her communications, then jumped as Artemis’s gaze abruptly focused on her.

“Hello, Holly,” he smirked, swinging the window wide.  “Do come in.”

No, she thought wryly, Artemis hasn’t changed at all.