Chapter 1

Fester Addams swallowed nervously as he took another look at himself in the full-size, broken, marred mirror he borrowed from his brother's bedroom. Fester didn't own a mirror, except for the small one in the bathroom, above the sink because he never cared about his looks anyway. Until now. His bald head freshly shaven and oiled, his teeth perfectly rotten. He even used a cologne...or at least he hoped it was a cologne, he couldn't really tell.

Today was the day, he decided.

Today he shall tell her.

He, Fester Addams, will ask her - the love of his life, the girl of his nightmares, to dinner...no, first he'll ask her name and then he will ask her to dinner. Yes, that sounded about right. No, no, no - he'll ask her name and then ask her out for a coffee and then maybe...perhaps, if all goes as planned he'll ask her to dinner.

Hold on, though...

What if she says no, or worse yet - what if she says yes?

She's far too beautiful to be interested in you, his mind supplied viciously, she could have any man she wants to, dead or alive, why would she give you a second look?

He thought and re-thought and pondered about every word he was going to say to her for the last two weeks. He had it written down in eleven versions. He was well prepared. Nothing, absolutely nothing could go wrong.

Fester rolled his eyes and groaned miserably.

If only he could be more like Gomez. If only he could be so suave, handsome and charming as his younger brother. Gomez wouldn't hesitate a second, he wouldn't spend agonizing weeks in the library staring furtively at the beautiful girl, trying to gain the courage to talk to her or at least find out her name.

But Fester Addams wasn't his brother, he was extremely shy around women. Every time he tried to talk to a woman his heart - both of his hearts actually - would start beating furiously, his palms would sweat profoundly and his mind would just go blank. His chronic shyness was the very reason he never dated a girl in his life. Yet, this time he knew he had to make an effort, from the first time he saw her in the library...oh he was just dazzled, she was so beautiful, she was perfect and he, Fester Addams, was absolutely in love.

And so today was the day.

Today he was going to...he winced suddenly and his shoulders sagged again. It was hopeless to think he could do it. He knew that what really was going to happen is that he was going to sit in the library for hours, pretending to read a book, staring furtively at the enchanting girl and then leave without her even acknowledging his existence.

He briefly entertained the thought of asking Gomez to come with him and do the talking but he discarded that idea almost immediately. He loved his brother to death and he was sure Gomez wouldn't hesitate to help him but he was also sure as hell that he didn't want Gomez Addams in the nearest vicinity of the girl, because he knew that next to his brother he was invisible. He simply didn't stand a chance against Gomez. He didn't have his charms or his bewitching way with words.

It will never work, he should just forget the whole thing, he thought dejectedly as he made his way down to the kitchen where his mother was, no doubt, already up and about.

Morticia Frump slammed the door angrily and her eyes immediately prickled with a ridiculous urge to cry, but she would be damned if she allowed him to make her cry. She was so damn tired of fighting Jared over every tiny little thing, but with her inheritance denied to her for another two years she had no choice but to depend on him financially and she could barely stand it.

She briefly cursed her mother for putting her in that situation but immediately felt a surge of guilt. She knew her mother wanted the best for her and she couldn't have predicted this utter disaster that befell their family. Still, though, what an utterly ridiculous, archaic practice it was and, as far as their family lawyer said, seemingly uncontested.

"Miss Morticia...pssst."

Despite her annoyance, Morticia's lips curled into a small, affectionate smile at the sound of her name. She took a deep breath and promptly schooled her expression into some kind of neutral look before she turned towards the voice.

"Fanny, I've told you so many times, it's just Morticia," she reminded gently as she watched the short, plump woman approach her from the direction of the kitchen door.

"Yes, Miss, I remember and purposely choose to ignore it," Fanny smiled kindly and handed Morticia a brown paper bag."I made some lunch for you."

Morticia resisted an urge to wince. Even after three years, it was difficult for her to stomach the food that was being served in this house...it was entirely different to her mother's cooking and Morticia's tastebuds refused to cooperate with the new flavours. She once even asked Fanny if she could cook her own meals, to which the housekeeper kindly agreed, but Jared found out and didn't take kindly to that arrangement and the weird - in his opinion - food Morticia was cooking. Never in her life, she thought someone would consider a yak stew weird.

"Oh, Fanny, thank you," she thanked the housekeeper politely and forced a grateful smile to her face." You really shouldn't have troubled on my account."

"It's no trouble, Miss," Fanny assured.

Morticia smiled and took a peek into the bag, for the sake of courtesy,

"Is that…?" she frowned.

"A sandwich," Fanny interjected and added slyly."On a moulded, rye bread just as you like it."

Morticia expression softened at her thoughtfulness and she almost forgot about her spat with Jared.

"You're absolutely precious, do you know that?" she complimented."But you really shouldn't have, I would hate you getting into trouble on my account. You know Jared - "

"I have to make sure you eat something," the housekeeper interjected sternly."Look at you, hardly any meat on you left."

Morticia smiled and smoothed her long, raven hair behind her ears.

"I appreciate your concern, Fanny, I really do, "she assured."But Jared -"

"Let me worry about Mr Diamond," the housekeeper winked at her."Now off you go, Tolya is waiting to take you to school."

Morticia nodded in thanks and hurried to the car where Jared's driver was indeed already waiting. This, she knew, was just one Jared's way to make sure his sister-in-law won't put a toe out of line. It was Tolya's duty to make sure Morticia didn't wander around in, what Jared considered to be, 'weird places' with 'even weirder people', so he dropped her to college every day and, undoubtedly, reported straight to Jared.

Thankfully, her brother-in-law vastly overestimated the loyalty of the people working for him. It wasn't entirely his fault, because he treated them well enough and paid them well, so technically he could live in a perception they'd reciprocate in a job well done and unwavering loyalty to their employer and, in most of the cases, he was right - they were good people and Morticia liked most of them.

Yet, no matter how well paid the servants were, household politics - as Morticia learnt - were still household politics and where Jared, as the master of the house, might not be aware of them, Morticia was very well versed in those. All it took, really, was a few strategically placed 'favours' to ensure she had the right people behind her. Fanny, although they liked each other very much and could be called friends, was also one of those 'favours'. And so was Tolya.

"Morning, Miss," he greeted her cheerfully in his thick Russian accent, taking off his driver hat as he helped her into the car.

"Good morning, Anatoly," she smiled, getting into the back seat and waited for him to close the door and get into the driver seat himself. She called him Anatoly to everyone's Tolya, because she noticed he preferred to be called his full name and he certainly appreciated the gesture.

"Beautiful day today, isn't it? Gloomy, just as you like it, yes?" He asked conversationally, gazing at her through the mirror.

"It is indeed," she confirmed, still gracing him with a kind smile."How did your nephew do in his test? Hope it went well?"

"Yes, yes, he did very well, Miss," Tolya grinned at her as he started the engine."Thanks to you, it was very kind of you to help him. He said he wouldn't have done it without you."

"It's so sweet for him to say that," she smiled back."I'm glad he did well."

Indeed. Everything in Diamond's household was politics.

The campus was buzzing with activity and Morticia couldn't resist the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes. She really couldn't comprehend the reason why so many people insisted on being perky this early in the morning and at the same time. Their sunshine disposition and giggles haven't done much to improve her already sour mood after the breakfast argument with her brother-in-law.

Once upon a time, studying Biology and Organic Chemistry wouldn't have crossed her mind and, unsurprisingly her sister was somewhat taken aback once Morticia declared her choice of degree. Ophelia wasn't against her little sister's pursuit of higher education per se, she just couldn't comprehend what use would a young, beautiful girl such as Morticia would have of a science degree. It was neither necessary nor desirable in the market of marriage which, in Ophelia's mind, was always the most sensible thing to do - marriage. A rich, well-connected marriage that is.

Jared's mother, on the other hand, was of an opinion that Morticia should study literature, a nice feminine degree as she described it. A degree that would be ideal for such a young, outspoken person as her. It was always desirable for a young lady to be able to hold an interesting conversation after all. Not too interesting, we don't want to appear overeducated, men don't really like that, no matter what they say in public. After three years of mingling in between Jared and Ophelia's friends and acquaintances, Morticia tended to share that opinion, well, to an extent at least.

She didn't necessarily consider literature to be a feminine degree, nevertheless, Morticia didn't even consider it for one second even though she loved literature and was an avid reader but she wouldn't want to study something that reminded her so vividly and painfully of her father.

When she was very young, she found it extremely annoying, how her father insisted she read the books he chose for her and then asked for her opinions on such and such and grilled her with various points and whys and hows and why nots. Everything had to have its proofs and reasons when all a nine-year-old Morticia preferred to do was to tend to her pets and help her mother in the garden and potions making.

Yet, somehow, despite her initial reluctance, her father's love for literature ingrained itself in her so voraciously and completely that books became an inherent part of her life even now. Even three years after his death, she often caught herself thinking, while reading, how she would discuss this or that with her father and what would he think or say and then she remembered that she won't ask him, that she couldn't ask him because her father was no longer here to discuss anything with her and her heart would fill with such a misery she could barely stand it.

Granted, Biology and Organic Chemistry might be an odd choice, even for her, but it was interesting and demanding, it practically demanded of her long hours of study and allowed her opportunity to be out of the house and she cherished that because she despised its pristine, almost sanitary cleanliness with passion. Besides, what she really longed to study was to her unavailable so this was better than nothing and as close to the real thing as she could get at the moment.

It was certainly better than marriage which, incidentally, was the very reason of the latest argument between Morticia and Jared, the fact that Morticia turned down yet another prospective suitor who was, after all, so very rich and, in Jared's mind, would be 'just ideal for her'. What was it with men, anyway, that the more blatantly Morticia rejected them the more interested they were in pursuing her? Also how, in the world, was it possible that she was too young for her inheritance but not too young to get married?

"Who vexed thou, my fair lady?" the deep, amused voice resonated behind her and she smiled, despite the sour mood.

She stopped and waited for Michael to catch up with her.

"Who do you think?" she asked, raising one of her shapely eyebrows at him.

"Same old same old?" he rightly guessed and they continued to walk together to the classes.

Michael was an anomaly in her life. He was a person she normally wouldn't think she could be friends with, they had seemingly nothing in common. When she first saw him in a calculus class last year her immediate thought was that he looked like a person whose favourite hobby was crushing beer cans against his forehead. It turned out she was right...at least partially.

She can't, for the life of her, remember now how they even got to talk to each other but at some point they did and their friendship formed with surprising ease. It turned out he was out of place here as much as she was.

"Are we still on for tonight's fitting?" Michael asked eagerly, putting his large arm around her shoulders.

Morticia winced and turned to her companion with an apologetic look.

"That's today?"

Michael stared at her in disbelief.

"Don't tell me you forgot, Tiiiiish, you know how important tonight is, I have less than a month to complete that portfolio and no one else will fit into those dresses…" he faltered, noticing the way her eyes shone with an unbridled amusement."It's not funny."

"It was a little bit," she grinned.

"You almost gave me a heart attack," he stressed, putting his hand over his chest for the emphasis."By the way, may I copy chemistry homework from you?"

"Again?"

"Hey, you know I don't give a rat's ass about this whole thing, I'm just here because my mother insists I follow the family tradition."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes in a mock exasperation before digging into her black, leather bag.

"Here," she handed him her notebook."Don't forget to make some mistakes otherwise she'll never believe you've done it on your own."

"You're precious," he complimented blowing her a myriad of air kisses."You know, I may be the lousiest student in the history but I'll always make sure, you're going to be the most glamourous-looking witch the wizarding world has ever seen."

"And we'll live in Paris in our glamorous ever after?"

"You got it, me - the famous designer, the fashion Czar of gothic designs and you, my precious muse," he mused passionately.

"And then, you'll finally tell your mother you're gay?" she teased and almost laughed when he snorted in amusement.

"Are you crazy?" he asked in disbelief."She would get a heart attack and kill me."

"I find it hilarious that a nineteen-year-old, six feet four-man is afraid of a five foot 'tall' lady," she grinned at him.

"Tish, how many times do I need to explain to you that African mamas are like nothing you have ever seen before," he insisted."They're vicious and they beat you up with their pom pom rubber slippers like there's no tomorrow."

"You're afraid of a pom pom rubber slipper?" she laughed.

"Damn right I am," he grinned.

They were almost at the entrance when they heard Morticia's name being called and they turned towards the voice.

"Dean Cleary wants to see you," Elena said breathlessly jogging towards them.

Morticia frowned in confusion at her words and looked at, equally confused looking, Michael.

"Why?" she asked finally.

"Barbie complained you've been making death threats," Elena grinned at her. "Again."

Fester descended the kitchen stairs only to be narrowly missed by a flying object. He rolled his eyes and shook his head in a good-natured exasperation - undoubtedly, his mother lost something again.

Eudora Addams might have been a powerful and highly respected witch but, dear Lucifer, was she the most disorganised witch in modern history. Not a day passed without his mother digging through mountains and mountains of her notes to find whatever she needed, often only to misplace it again ten minutes later.

"I'm sure it must be here somewhere," he heard her mutter angrily to herself, her head half-buried in a cardboard box filled with an array paper notes.

"Good morning, mama," he greeted as he made his way to the table to pour himself some bitter coffee.

"What's that?" came Eudora's muffled voice from inside the box.

"I said good morning," he repeated a little louder and couldn't help but smile as his mother lifted her head from inside the box.

"Oh, good morning dear," she greeted."Up so early?"

"It's eight o'clock in the morning," he pointed out and went over to the stove to get his breakfast. "Mmmmm, lizard pancakes…"

"Help yourself, dear, I have to find my diary."

"Your diary?"

Eudora grunted in affirmative surveying the mess in the kitchen.

"I could swear I saw it somewhere."

"I think I saw it on the desk in the library," he mentioned off-handedly, half-way through platting his breakfast.

Eudora groaned and hit her forehead with the palm of her hand in an exasperated manner.

"Of course, it's in the library," she grunted to herself."I gave it to Gomez to keep it with his, so I wouldn't lose it and I completely forgot about it!" she complained eliciting an amused snort from her son. She narrowed her eyes and turned to him, looking at him suspiciously as he sat down at the wooden table, munching on his breakfast.

"What?" he asked finally when his mother stared at his for a while.

"Something's different," Eudora said confidently."Are you wearing cologne?"

"So?" he asked nonchalantly but could already feel an embarrassment creeping up his cheeks.

"Freshly shaven, oiled head…," Eudora pointed out slowly, coming closer to the table."Son, are you meeting a girl?" she asked and tried very hard not to smirk when Fester's face turned a very bright shade of red.

"No," he denied immediately out of habit."It's just...this new thing I'm trying...Gomez always said it was a good scent for me and anyway...it's not about a girl, I'm just going to the library to work on my thesis."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really."

"We have a vast library at home."

"We don't have this particular book I need."

"Indeed?" she asked raising her eyebrow sceptically."Which one?"

"The one…" he replied scrambling for a title in his head."You know...the one I need...but...we don't have it."

"Oooooh, that one," his mother smiled knowingly, nodding thoughtfully."Does this particular book have a name?"

"She does...I mean it does but I don't know it yet," he mumbled."I intend to find out...today, in the library...where that book...is."

Eudora nodded and gazed at her oldest son silently for few second until it seemed like he wanted to just crawl out of the kitchen.

"Well, good luck with that, dear."

In the nine years of his time at the Department of Natural Sciences, Dean Cleary thought he really had seen it all when it came to teenage girls / young women and their overblown drama. People came and went, times seemingly changed and yet there was always a point, at least once a month, when he had to deal with some petty, catty behaviour even though technically this was a supposedly an adult environment. He came to the conclusion that age is hardly a measure of adulthood nowadays.

In his opinion, Jennifer Stevenson should have never left the high school premises for whereas her grades were certainly impressive, her behaviour didn't go beyond an eleven-grade school student.

"In all honesty, Dean Cleary, I'm not even sure why am I here," Morticia started in her soft, calm voice."I fear that Jessi here might have misunderstood the meaning behind my words, as she often does, for I certainly do not remember alluding to her impending death at any point."

When she was so inclined, Morticia Frump certainly took cattiness to a whole nother level.

"You were discussing the perfect way to deal with annoying people and you said murder is always an option and then you mentioned how your own great-grandmother scared her husband to death - literally," the blond-haired girl next to Morticia argued before turning to Dean Cleary." She was looking at me all the time. She was talking about me," she insisted."And it's Jenny, not Jessi and you bloody well know it."

"Mind your language please, Miss Stevenson," Dean Cleary reminded her.

"Oh, it was just an innocent story," Morticia countered patiently."Surely, you will agree with me, Mr Dean, that I cannot be held responsible for the fact that Janice here considers herself to be annoying and takes everything personally."

"It's Jenny!"

"Of course it is," Morticia agreed with a polite smile."Well, if it's necessary, in order to avoid future misunderstandings I promise to choose my words more carefully when Jocelyn is around," Morticia promised, smiling charmingly at Dean Cleary.

"That sounds perfectly reasonable," Dean Cleary returned the smile."It's very considerate of you, Morticia. Is that alright with you, Jocelyn - sorry, Jenny. Is that alright with you, Jenny?"

"This school is pathetic," the girl retorted angrily, standing up abruptly from her chair and picked her bag up from the floor in a swift motion."My mother will hear about it!"

"Bye, Jane, see you in a biology class," Morticia supplied cordially.

"It's Jenny!"

Fester Addams tried his earnest to look interested in the book he was currently reading 'The Deadliest Infectious Diseases - Your Personal Guide' despite the fact was that he already read this book through and through at least eight times since he was a little boy.

The beautiful girl at the counter smiled at him and he felt his heart immediately cease its beating. He wanted to smile back, he really did but he felt a sudden wave of embarrassment engulf him and he snapped his head down, focusing on the book again.

Dear me, what a pathetic creature he was.

"It might aid your comprehension if you stop holding the book upside down," the velvet voice at the table next to him commented and he immediately turned towards the sound.

It was the ebony-haired girl he's seen often in the library, she was almost as frequent of a visitor as himself, although he suspected she actually came here to read or study. She was smiling at him kindly, her head propped at the pillow of her pale hand, her dark eyes dancing with amusement. She was breathtakingly beautiful. He felt his cheeks colour in embarrassment, he was extremely shy around women in general but beautiful women like her all but intimidated him into sheer speechlessness.

"I'm sorry," the girl said softly."I didn't mean to embarrass you. That's an interesting book you're reading."

His head snapped up to look at her and he saw she was genuinely sorry for making him react the way he did.

"Oh no, it's ok. I'm not reading, I'm just pretending," he explained and immediately winced at the idiocy of his words." I mean I already...ehm..I've read this book, many times already..." he stammered and felt his cheek heat up even more and, to his horror, he let out a stream of gibberish and almost run away from the library.

"Is it any good?" the girl inquired, nodding at the book and if he didn't just utterly humiliate himself at all.

Fester blinked in confusion, somehow surprised she was still interested in talking to him at all.

"Yeah...ehmmm, yeah...it's my favourite book since when I was a wee lad," he gruffed and then, to his utter surprise added:"It inspired me to study medicine, I even qualified as a pathologist - just a little hobby of mine."

"How fascinating," the girl commented looking genuinely curious.

"You really think so?"

"I do," she smiled softly and, to his utter disbelief, he found himself smiling back."I'd really like to read that book myself if you're recommending it."

"I do, it's great," he nodded and then narrowed his eyes curiously at the hardback of the book she just closed. He recognized the book immediately."The Untold History of Witchcraft," he said and watched the girl blink in surprise.

"You know it?" she asked.

"Sure, we have a whole collection of books about witchcraft at home - some hundreds of years old, spell books, manuals - they belong to my mother," he explained and faltered momentarily as if hit by a sudden thought."I have never said so many words to a girl in one sentence before."

The girl smiled at him warmly and stood up from her chair gracefully, making her way towards him.

"I'm Morticia," she said, extending her pale hand towards him."Morticia Frump."

"Fester Addams," he replied, shaking her hand. He was surprised by how warm it was. She was so pale, somehow he just assumed her skin would be ice cold, just as her beauty but it certainly wasn't so.

"Pleased to meet you... Fester Addams."

A/N: Thank you for reading!