Chapter 2: Nine Years Later
The screaming that filled the room soothed him greatly and he sighed happily, his green eyes closed. he found himself relaxing even further, his shoulders loosening and his hands resting peacefully atop the opposite arm. All of the blood was rushing to his head and it felt wonderful.
"hey, how is it up there?" Wednesday called from below.
Opening his eyes, he looked down at her and smiled wickedly. She stood more than ten feet below his head, her hand clasped around a hacksaw that was dripping blood. She has grown up to be quite a fetching lady, her twin braids growing ever longer and thicker. he remembered when she had dressed up as Pocahontas that one summer at Camp Chippewa. She resembled the famed Indian maiden even more so now, apart from the deathly pale skin of course. In bodily appearance, she looked quite a bit like Gomez, thicker through the shoulders and well built, but still slim. her legs were very long and spider-like, but that was one of those things he loved about her. Their family had always loved arachnids.
Turning his head to look up, he stared at his shoe-clad feet. A thick chain was wrapped around his legs, holding them together tightly as it dangled him from a beam high up at the top of the belfry three stories above him.
"It's so comfortable up here," he replied. "How goes the torture?"
"Dreadfully easy. They're hardly trying," Wednesday snorted.
"That's the problem with beheading dolls. They may bleed, but they never fight back. Well, except for Lady Mayhem, but that's only because Grandmama brought her to life," he said.
"Yes, who knew that poisons could be so invigorating for inanimate objects," Wednesday muttered, fingering her hacksaw.
Suddenly, the sound of a gong ran throughout the house, making the walls shutter and the antique china rattle. Both of them looked towards the door and Wednesday threw away her hacksaw, racing out the door and down the stairs towards dinner. With a sigh, he pulled himself up and began untangling himself from his chairs, slipping easily to the floor with little problem.
As much as I love my family, I could have used more time upside down, he thought as he casually strolled down towards the first floor of the house. It really eases away the stress.
Stepping into the dining room, he took in his assembled family. Gomez - his father - sat at the head of the table and smoking as usual. he was dressed in his favorite velvet smoking jacket, the Addams family crest adorning the lapel. his mother, Morticia, sat across from him, exuding the dark beauty that she had always possessed. her arms were crossed over her chest in their usual position. Wednesday, Uncle Fester, and Pugsley sat together on the far side of the table with Grandmama and an empty chair for him on the near side.
Gracefully, he slid into his chair without a word as Lurch silently entered with their dinner. his green eyes watched the butler as he set a plate in front of each of them. Stuffed Tasmanian devil with hemlock sauce and root of angel's trumpet: Wednesday's favorite, of course. It was too toxic to be otherwise.
"How was your day, darlings?" Morticia asked as they picked up their utensils and began to eat.
"Perfectly dreadful," Wednesday said, cutting easily into her steak with the serrated ten-inch blade of her knife. "I cut off Anne Boleyn's head and tried to kill Pugsley four different times. he kept dodging my battle axe."
"Good job, son! We all know how good Wednesday is with her axes," Gomez cheered, stuffing a small bite of Tasmanian devil into his mouth.
"She kept interrupting me though!" Pugsley whined. "I was sharpening the spikes in the Iron Maiden and wanted to stick Uncle Fester in there for the afternoon."
his older brother has grown quite a bit as well, filling out in height to balance out the girth that he had bore as a child. he was nearly as tall as Lurch now and as round as Uncle Fester, his whole body curved at every angle. Despite his growing age, his face had hardly changed, still pudgy and boyish. Only his hands, as massive as they were, gave away the astonishing strength of the oldest Addams son. his fingers were as thick as a yak sausage and each palm was the size of a fruit bat's wingspan, though they bore none of the thin grace that a bat possessed.
"That is so thoughtful of you, Pugsley. You really have raised these children well, Morticia." Fester said.
Morticia nodded in agreement. "They are so loving, but Pugsley, that is the best time to practice with your sister! You are completely unaware and your mind is occupied. Of course, she would chose then to attack. It will prepare you for the future. Remember that well children, all of you."
"Yes, Mother," the three teenagers replied.
"What about you, darling?" Morticia asked, glancing at him.
"I spent several hours hanging from the rafters, Mother," he mused, smiling a little as he thought about one of his favorite pastimes. "However, I spent this morning out in the swamp. There is a family of Northern Water Snakes that have nested near the bat caves."
"Oh, did they tell you anything interesting?" Grandmama asked. "Snakes always make for such good conversationalists."
"Nothing much. The female said there were strange people at the edge of our property, staring over at the house a few days ago. They haven't been back as a large group, but people from the group come once every few hours," he said.
Morticia and Gomez exchanged a glance, both befuddled.
"How peculiar. We will have to ask them in the next time they arrive," Morticia said sweetly.
"I don't know about that, Morticia," Fester warned. "They could be dangerous!"
The kindly matriarch turned her blue gaze to her husband and smiled sweetly at him, tipping in her head in that few signature way. Setting down her knife and fork, she crossed her arms over her chest again, resting her hands gently atop each bicep.
"Dear Uncle Fester, they are probably just enjoying the splendor of this old house. You don't see many like this anyone," Gomez cackled from the other end of the table. "Besides, Cara Mía is such a wonderful hostess. I believe that they would be thrilled."
Shrugging, Fester relented and turned back to his dinner before beginning to grill Pugsley on his work with the Iron Maiden. Wednesday ate in silence while their parents made loving faces at each other across the table. he glanced over at Grandmama Frump, who was giggling lightly under her breath. An open tome lay in her lap, revealing a painting of the drawing and quartering of Mettius Fufetius, king of Alba Longa (1). his mouth was open in a scream as the chariots pulled him apart. he smiled a little at the gruesome nature of the painting before turning back to his dinner, his gentle grip on the knife slicing through the meat easily.
he awoke the following morning to the sound of banging. Usually, this would not have awoken him as living the Addams family mansion produced all sorts of strange noises at all hours of the day and night. This sound, however, was especially strange. As he opened his eyes to the darkness, he could tell right away where it was coming from. Someone was knocking at the front door.
Reaching up, he pushed on the lid that sat snugly a few inches above his head and slid it away. Opening the coffin, he sat up and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he shrugged his shoulders a few times to work out the kinks. he heard a succession of pops and stood, stepping out of his coffin in an easy grace. his bare feet were silent as he padded over to the dresser and pulled out his outfit for the day. he couldn't very well meet their company if he wasn't properly dressed. No one knocked on the door or rang the doorbell of the Addams family unless they meant to stay for a while.
his bedroom was the smallest in the mansion and that was how he liked it. When he had first come to the Addams family, Morticia had allowed him to pick out his own bedroom. Without a moment of hestation, he had picked this very room. he had lived in a cupboard before and a room of grand size was more than terrifying to him at the time. his bedroom was just large enough for a writing desk, an armoire, and his coffin as well as well as his collection of weapons, ranging from flails and axes to swords that were longer than he was tall.
When he had finished dressing, he slipped into the hallway and headed for the bathroom he shared with his older brother. Thankfully for him, Pugsley rarely used it for more than a few minutes a day, leaving the use of the room to him for most of the time, which he did not mind at all.
Steeping into the bathroom, he closed the door behind him and set about his business. Selecting his favorite porcupine brush, he began to brush out his thick, dark hair, flipping each lock over his shoulder when he was sufficiently satisfied with its sleek nature. Next, he took to his teeth, brushing vigorously, but gracefully to clean every corner of his mouth. The Addamses may love dark and dank places, but that didn't mean their dental hygiene suffered. Lastly came his makeup, just some simple black eyeliner that made the green irises stand out as vibrant jewels. Morticia always said to show off your best qualities and he was prepared to do so always.
Meanwhile, Gomez and Morticia Addams were both captivated by their guests. The couple were already awake and in the living room when the knock on the door had come, Morticia in her favorite chair knitting a sweater for a distant cousin of Gomez's and her husband smoking a cigar. Lurch had answered the door in his stoic manner, surprised to see the strange people standing in the doorway, not that it showed on the giant man's face.
The moment their guests were led into the living room, Morticia and Gomez knew that something was going to change drastically. Their guests consisted of a stern-looking woman, three men that looked to be about Morticia's age, and an elderly man with a white beard. They gazed around them at the strange décor, frowning heavily. Each of them were dressed in strange robes that reached the floor and hung loose around their arms. Morticia smiled a little when she noticed the man standing at the back of the ground, his face sullen as he grumbled something incoherent under his breath. his robes were all black and rather brooding. he certainly had a sense of style that she could agree with.
"That will be all, Lurch," Gomez said as he approached the oldest man, holding out his hand. "Gomez Addams."
"How do you do?" the elderly man replied. "My name is Albus Dumbledore and we have come here in search of someone who is very important to us all."
The dark man in the back rolled his eyes.
"Oh dear, someone has disappeared? How awful," Morticia replied. "We are willing to help in any way we can."
"That would be really appreciated. We are looking for a teenager. he would be about seventeen years old now. he disappeared when he was very young," the elderly man said, smiling brightly.
"Our children may know him then," Gomez said as he pulled a new cigar from his mouth, the smoking rising as soon as he stuck it in his mouth.
"Children!" Morticia called up the stairs.
A loud explosion rocked the house in greeting. Their guests cringed and reached into their pockets for something, but Dumbledore quickly stopped them. Footsteps echoed through the house as Wednesday and Pugsley tore downstairs, the dark haired girl following at a slower and more dignified pace than her brother. They walked over to stand next to their parents, Wednesday fixing her cold stare on the older man although her gaze flicked over to one of the younger men behind him.
he was very thin and quite gaunt. his dark hair was wavy and slightly curled, although heavily covered in grease. heavy bags ringed his eyes as though he hadn't slept in a long time. his dark eyes had been so full of hope until she and Pugsley had appeared, dying as quickly as the children came into view.
"Mr. Dumbledore, these are our two oldest children: Pugsley and Wednesday," Gomez said, grinning widely.
"hello, my boy and Miss Wednesday. I-"
"-he's strange, Mother. Too much color," Wednesday interrupted, sneering at his brightly colored robe.
"Wednesday, manners please. Now, where is your younger brother?" Morticia asked.
Pugsley and Wednesday both gaze up at the ceiling to indicate that he was still upstairs. Morticia nodded in understanding and turned back to their guests.
"Will you sit down and we can discuss this business further?" she offered.
"That would be lovely, Mrs. Addams," Dumbledore replied cheerfully as he took a seat on the couch.
The others of his group -apart from the dark man- took a seat around him as Morticia took residence in her whicker chair, Gomez and her children standing on either side of him. On the table beside her, Thing opened the door of his box and hopped out, racing across the table to hop down onto the floor. Wednesday was surprised to realize that none of the guests were shocked to see a Thing. That peeked her interest.
"Ah, our guests," Grandmama announced as she exited the kitchen with a tray of steaming hemlock tea. Setting it down the coffee table, she looked them each over in turn and added, "You're wpquite the interesting bunch aren't you?"
"What are they here for?" Fester asked as he strolled into the room, shuffling slightly from side to side as he walked. he had several sticks of dynamite in his hand.
"Ah, Uncle Fester! Mr. Dumbledore, this is my wife's brother, Fester, and my mother-in-law, Grandmama Frump," Gomez said, motioning to his family members.
"I hope you like hemlock tea," Grandmama cackled. "I made it especially strong, just for the occasion. We haven't had many visitors lately."
As she accepted a cup for her grandmother, Wednesday stared at their visitors with narrowed eyes. She didn't like the emotions they were giving off. Many emotions were largely foreign to her as an Addams, but she still had the ability to sense them we'll. the dark man was clearly annoyed and did not want to be there. the stern woman, despite her outer appearance, seemed concerned while the old man was pensive and calm. the two other men smelled of panic and deepseeded worry. Whomever they were looking for meant a lot to them.
"So, you are looking for someone," Morticia said after she had taken her first sip of tea.
"Yes and we need to find him as soon as possible," one of the younger man said frantically.
"Rest easy Sirius, we'll find him soon," Dumbledore soothed him.
"Especially with our help," Gomez said, "We Addamses are very good at finding lost things."
"Just like that time I lost that fire bomb in the caves below the house. I'm like a hound dog," Fester chuckled.
"Well, the young man we're looking for is of the utmost importance to us. he must be found at all costs," Dumbledore warned. "his name is Harry Potter and he is the son of some very good friends of ours who died years ago. he was supposed to be living with his mother's sister and her family, but he disappeared several years ago. We have managed to track him here, to your house, although it clearly took us a while to do it."
"You've tracked him to our house?" Morticia asked, tenting her fingers in her lap. "That is most surprising. It is just my family and I that lives here."
Snorting, the dark man snarled, "We should just give up, headmaster. he's clearly not here anymore."
The old man turned to him and shook his head. "Not yet, Severus. Calm yourself."
"The brat is obviously long gone. We should move on and focus on actually doing something to mitigate the Dark Lord, not chasing around some brat-"
"-Don't call-"
"-Sirius, be quiet!" the stern woman snapped from her seat. "We don't need arguing right now."
The ragged man sulked in his seat, snarling something under his breath. his hands were clenched in his lap as the other younger man, a brunette, rubbed his back comfortingly. he seemed to ooze despair and anger, making Wednesday cheer inside.
"We have had many guests over the years, but not many young children," Gomez said, "Or at least those outside of the family."
"Could you at least keep a look out for him?" the brunette man asked quietly. "he'll have dark hair, green eyes, and probably glasses. I wish we had a picture, but given the circumstances-"
"Say no more, my good man. We understand. It is a terrible situation, trying to find a missing child. We should be thankful that ours never went wandering off like that," Gomez sighed dramatically.
"he didn't wander off!" Sirius snarled.
"he might as well have," the dark man, Severus, muttered behind him.
"If you say something bad about him one more time, Sni-"
"Ah, so loud. Is all of this yelling necessary?"
Everyone in the room turned to look at him as he came down the steps, his black leather boots surprisingly quiet on the wooden steps. Mouths dropped open as he stepped over to his parents. his long nails, sharped like blades to a fine point, shone softly in the light of the room. he stood at what he considered to be a respectable five foot eight, although it was small compared to his hulk of a brother. his hair had grown out to the middle of his back and had become more tamable with the extra length. While still thick, it was sleek and smooth, not anywhere close to the rat's nest it had been when he was a child. he had tied it back into a single braid except for the two long strands that hung down either side of his face, cascading easily down to his chest. With his pale skin, he resembled a ghost or a corpse apart from the heavy lining of black pencil that followed the lower curve of his clear, green eyes.
he was dressed in a pair of black linen trousers that hung loose around his thin legs and long, covering the tops of his boots. A tight shirt clung to his upper body, the long sleeves covering his arms all the way to the middle of his palms, where his thumbs stuck out through a single hole on the inside seam. The shirt's high collar wrapped around his neck all the way to his jaw and the bottom hem stopped at mid-thigh, gripping the young man's slight hips and legs tightly.
Standing beside his older sister, he ran his thin fingers through his loose strands of hair and turned his gaze to their guests. They were all staring at him with wide, shocked eyes, even the dark man that had been so vocal before.
"There you are, darling. Did you sleep well?" Morticia asked sweetly.
"Of course, Mother. There is nothing better than a close casket for a restful sleep," he replied.
Suddenly, he was engulfed in a tight hug and he stiffed, anger swelling up. his green eyes glowed as he pushed the clinging form off of him, gathering his magic into his arms. With a forceful thrust, he threw the form away from him, slamming the surprised man into the wall on the far side of the room.
Free of the gripping arms, he straightened his back and forced down his anger. Running his fingers through his hair once again to straighten out any unseen kinks, he turned to look at the man who lay on the floor several feet away, groaning softly. Giving their guests his best closed mouth smile, he tipped his head slightly to the right and down, imitating his mother's favorite look. They all held thin sticks in their hands, having jumped up out of their seats and into a defensive position.
"Please forgive me for my actions. I am not used to being touched in so… intimate a manner," he purred.
"But Harry," Sirius cried as he sat up from where he had thrown him, "Don't you remember us?"
"Sirius," the brunette snapped, "How would he remember us? he was only a year old when we last saw him."
he glanced down at his mother, frowning heavily. Shrugging his shoulders, he finished fixing his hair and crossed his arms over his chest, copying Morticia as was his habit.
"My name isn't Harry," he said.
"Don't joke with us, boy," Severus snarled. "You know who you are."
"Why yes I do, but I am not Harry," he replied.
Severus snorted at his response and muttered, "Look at him, headmaster. he's playing with us, the little brat."
"Severus, please," Dumbledore murmured. "Be reasonable."
"No! That child has forced us to chase after him for the last ten years and when he find him, he starts pretending that he doesn't know who he is. I am tired of dealing with this, headmaster!" Severus cried.
"If you have any complaints about my decorum, Sir, I would prefer if you addressed your grievances towards me," he said. "I am not nor have I ever been this Harry of which you speak. I am not an Addams by blood, but they gave me a name when I did not have one before and I would prefer that you use it before giving me one of your own."
he met Severus's dark glare evenly, his mouth curling up at the corners into a sly smile. Mischief lit his eyes aflame as he planned all of the horrible incidents that could befall this man. he had insulted his intelligence and his integrity without an ounce of remorse or doubt. he would just have to show this Severus who he was: an Addams.
"Now, if you please, would you mind addressing me from hereon by my true name. Harry, while not my name, is such a plainly peculiar thing to name a child. I am henebon Ranseur Addams, if you please." (2)
According to Roman mythology, Mettius Fufetius was the king of Alba Longa several years after the destruction of the original line of kings (from Aeneas and Ascanius to Romulus and Remus –the original, of course). he warred against the Romans (founded by Romulus) and betrayed the king of Rome, Tullius Hostilius. For his crimes, Hostilius had him drawn and quartered (torn apart by chariots). In case you haven't figured it out yet, I am a history major and I love me some history.
(2) I thought I should explain the origin of "Harry's" new name. henebon is the poison Claudius used to kill his brother the King of Denmark, Hamlet the I, at the beginning of the play. While it isn't a real poison (as there isn't anything named henebon) there are several theories as to the origin of the name and what the poison's true name could be, including hemlock, a favorite food of the Addams family. A ranseur is a medieval weapon, a spear that has a similar appearance to that of a trident. It was used to trap and incapacitate enemy weapons on the battlefield as well as unseating mounted soldiers. Therefore, is both a poison and a weapon. I felt it was fitting for an Addams.