Title: Harveste Addams and the Goblet of Fire

Crossover: Harry Potter and the Addams Family

Summary: Let's have a little FUN this year, shall we?

Warning: Addams Family Sadism and Cross-dressing, Spoilers -do I have to write that?-

Wow, over a hundred reviews! Y'all got me nervous now. Gotta make an awesome chapter, yosh! And all your suggestions! You are all mad, darlings, so devilishly, wonderfully, weirdly mad! And I get to take credit for that!

In my mind my Gryffindors aren't OOC at all. Without Harry and Ron to stir up trouble and Draco being a right prick about everything, I would assume that they would be just like the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Besides, Fred and George like them :) Y'all got Draco mad at me now…

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-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-

The Forbidden Forest had never been more unwelcoming. Treacherous frost covered the hard ground, lying in wait for unwary feet. Dark was almost falling, the sun making its last crimson mark in the sky, and a pale sliver of moon was already visible. To anyone in the wrong frame of mind, it looked like a skull's grin, cold and dead.

There were hungry eyes, in sets of two, four, and even eight, shining ominously in the shadowed canopy of the trees. They were all trained in the direction of one clearing, and if they were lucky, on dinner.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, this is my favorite shirt!"

Hermione laughed, twirling the staff about her fingers. It was thick, about five feet long, and the setting sun's light gave the blades on each end a bloody tinge. "You shouldn't be wearing it during practice then."

"A little needle and thread, darling." Harry advised as he slid backwards effortlessly, each wave of his fan preventing a fencing rapier from slicing into him. Wednesday growled and swung her hand back and up, and was blocked with a hatchet.

Blaise huffed with irritation as he clutched the torn sleeve, stepping to the side quickly when a knife slashed down beside him. He turned, scowling. "Seriously?"

Draco grinned at him then tried to cut off his head again. "Yup, seriously."

"Dirty pool, just like Father." Harry chuckled. The tables had turned and now he was after Wednesday, who ducked, evaded, and finally caught the senbon and started throwing them back, only to look down in surprise as her fingers started to smoke. Harry smiled. "Dirty pool."

Draco, true to his personality, liked getting up close and personal, and so favored hand weapons. Hermione, who just loved beating everyone up, be it with her intelligence or otherwise, used the long staff to keep people at a fair distance every time she swung. Blaise, on the other hand, liked to avoid.

And he was good at it. He swung himself up into a tree, and just as Draco was a few feet away, he loaded the crossbow and fired.

Draco was good at avoiding too. He was adept getting through heavy fire while grinning like an absolute maniac.

Blaise vaulted off the branch. His landing wasn't as neat as he would have liked, but at least he had raised his crossbow. It prevented Hermione from braining him into next Tuesday. He kicked out at her knees, which was crueler than aiming at her feet because doing so made her jump higher, otherwise she would have to spend a week in leg braces. He began to run again.

"Hey Harveste," Draco called over the metallic din. "Who are you going to the Ball with? Yoww!"

Blaise rose up behind him like a malignant demi-god. "Keep your head in the game, darling."

"Fuck off." The blond muttered as he took a swipe at head height and another just above his sternum. "Like you don't want to know."

Thunk-thunk.

"Hermione!"

-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-

There was nothing for it. Asking Slytherin girls were out, not least because the majority of them were still being treated for the hundred and one ailments that Harveste had smilingly bestowed on them. In order not to be found out, he had inflicted them on himself and Wednesday too, but that was because they were the only two people in Hogwarts who actually liked having a flesh-eating bacteria gnawing at them. It had cleared up in time for the Yule Ball though.

Draco and Blaise were going alone, together, but not together together. Just… they would appear at the same time, but they weren't going with one another… just…

Draco glared at his reflection in the mirror. It stared smugly back at him.

"C'mon, you dandy, enough beautifying and let's just go and get it over with."

They made their way out of the dungeons. Harveste had disappeared over two hours ago, and they hadn't seen him since.

Probably off snogging his date, Draco thought mutinously. He didn't know why he was so jealous. Probably because he hadn't gotten a date himself and he was stuck with the same person he had been with for four years. Even Hermione had gotten a date. Wednesday had gotten two, and she was mental.

They were ahead of them now, the Weasley twins like two beanpoles around a dark, haunted well. She was gliding sedately on the stones, dressed in something that looked very Morticia. She had worn her hair loose tonight, and it tumbled down her back like a tsunami. She looked like a vampire bride.

So did Hermione, much to Blaise's surprise. He hadn't thought it would be possible, but the witch had managed to groom her hair into sleek reddish waves, and her make-up must have been put on with a shovel, because she was gloriously pale with a wine-red dress that gave her graceful curves. Cedric looked very pleased with his date.

"You clean up nice, Hermione." Draco said, bowing over her hand before giving it an old-fashioned peck. Blaise repeated the gesture. It was the respectful way to greet a lady in pureblood circles, and Hermione was as deserving of that honor as anyone else.

They knew better than to kiss Wednesday's hand though. Harry had told them of her love for poisons years ago.

"Thanks, you guys." Hermione blushed, then peered behind them. "Where's Harry?"

"We thought he'd be with you."

"Champions!" Professor McGonagall called. "Champions, line up here please! Everyone else, inside!"

"We'll see you later." Hermione smiled at them. "Save us a seat, okay?"

-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-

"By the gods."

It was a jaw-dropping moment, it really was. And also a moment for clutching silverware and glaring.

Harveste – it could only be Harveste – had his hair pulled back at the name of his neck with a green silk ribbon, the same that they had seen him wearing all around school. He was wearing black, of course, black overcoat, black vest, black tie. He was also wearing trousers, and now they thanked all the gods they knew that he didn't wear them on a regular basis. They clung to his long, long legs like sin on holiday, and even his dove-grey silk shirt, a few buttons undone to show off a toned chest, was an indictment against common decency. It didn't make any sense since he was barely showing any skin, but Harveste Addams in men's clothing looked hot. Really, really hot.

And his date was gorgeous.

She was a tall, willowy brunette, her hair put up in intricate knots with a few dark strands brushing against the slim column of her neck. She had deep, soulful eyes, heavily shadowed with mascara and dark, silvery and green eyeshadow. Her soft pink lips were slightly pouty, the lack of lipstick managing to look perfect against the jade and sapphire shades of her ballgown. Her hands were delicate, snow white against Harveste's velvet clad arm. Even her ears were perfect.

As soon as the first dance was finished, Harveste disappeared into the shadows with her, barely glancing at their table. Was he that infatuated? Seriously?

Draco and Blaise weren't speaking to each other, and Hermione had mauled her bouillabaisse.

"Bzzzzz-bzbz." Cousin What said, somewhat smugly.

Victor chuckled and took another bite of mashed potatoes.

The beautiful dark-haired vixen appeared again, a violin in her swan-like hands. She gracefully made her way to the stage where the orchestra was playing and whispered into the ear of the conductor. Draco caught a glimpse of an ankle that would have made Michelangelo cry, and snapped his spoon in half.

Slag.

The conductor bowed and the band stopped playing. Harveste's date stepped up to the podium and graced them all with a dazzling smile.

Then she put her bow to the string and began to play.

Wednesday started to smile.

"Fred, George," She said, standing up imperiously. "Make yourselves useful and dance with me."

"At once, angel of the night!"

"Your wish is our command!"

Despite his unexplainable anger, Blaise groaned. He never saw that one coming. One Gomez was enough, thank you.

The music was enchanting, surprisingly fast-paced but each note as clear as crystal. The beauty swayed to the music, the bow leaping effortlessly in her fingers as she played one of the more difficult pieces in Brahms' repertoire, the Hungarian Dance No. 5.

Wednesday moved with deadly grace, her dangerous smile flashing as she twirled and stepped. The twins kept up with her, not gangly like Ronald Weasley, but with measured, precise steps, like they had been practicing. It looked sensual, sexual, something a twelve-year-old should have known nothing about. But then again she wasn't just any regular twelve-year-old. She danced like her Mother, one minute pressed against George, and the other, sliding her hands down Fred's sides. Her smile grew. One flick of the wrist had Fred flying through the air, and a roundhouse kick swept George off his feet, but he did a handstand and jerked himself right way up, catching Fred's hand with his and pulling him closer to steady him. They kept up with her, step by step, throw by throw until there weren't just bodies moving, there was cutlery too. And shelled clams, for some reason.

"They're absolutely mad." Draco said, his eyes still on the raven-haired wench with the violin.

"They look like they're having fun, actually." Hermione answered, now murdering a lemon meringue. Cedric laughed beside her. He didn't look like he minded that his date wasn't paying attention to him. His eyes were on the stage as well, head cocked as if he were trying to figure out a puzzle.

The music ended with a flourish, and Harveste's date bowed to the roaring applause as she stepped off the raised dais. Wednesday had gone back to her seat, but the twins were lapping up the stunned accolade they were receiving.

Blaise watched with venomous eyes as She made her way to their table, all smiles, and sat down, carefully arranging her skirt to show it off. Then his eyes strayed down to the violin she still held with one hand. It had a green silk ribbon tied around its neck.

No way.

"Hello, darlings."

"HARVESTE?"

-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-

"I should have known, even through all that damn makeup!" Hermione hissed as they watched the twins dance with Harry and Wednesday. "He pulled the same Transfiguration trick on me during the exams last year!"

"He's quite good at dancing." Cedric commented as the flurry of skirts got even more fast-paced. Blaise and Draco still weren't talking.

"You should've seen him do the Mamushka." Hermione took a sip of her punch and nearly spat it out again. The stuff burned a line down her throat and she grappled for a general antidote she had started hiding in her purse ever since their first summer in the Addams house. Wednesday loved poisons.

The orchestra was trying to keep up with the tempo of the dance and failing miserably. A few bows started to smoke.

"What's the Mamushka?"

A string snapped, leaving a thin bloody welt over one violinist's cheek. He couldn't stop playing. It was like he was compelled.

Hermione downed the spicy liquid, and waved for Draco and Blaise to do the same. Blaise looked down at his cup, then rose with a sigh and made for the punch bowl. Draco waved his wand over their goblets, muttering darkly to himself. Hermione smiled apologetically at a confused Cedric and continued to explain. "It's a really dangerous Addams traditional dance, but they do it really well. They have these knives, see -"

A cello exploded, then the drum set, one drum at a time, then the violas. Still, in the cloud of wood chips and shrapnel, the rest of the orchestra continued to play, dedicated, as it were, to the very end.

It ended with Wednesday singing. A few of the musicians were still conscious enough to play along in the background.

Blaise started as a frigid fingertip poked his hand. Harry smiled and motioned him to look at the stage. The little vampire bride stood proudly, her vermillion smile as near to beastly as it could get without sprouting fangs. Her voice ran up and down the scale smoothly, her tone menacingly beautiful and delicately haunting at the same time. Viktor was enchanted and he whispered to Cousin What in rapid Bulgarian, gesturing fluidly. Cousin What leaned closer, hair bobbing in an affirmative.

"What's she singing?" Draco whispered to Harry, forgetting that he was a little miffed at his friend.

"Der Holle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen. It's her favorite song." Harry smiled. "It means 'Hell's vengeance boils in my heart'."

-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-

Cedric had added himself to their little group now, though he was paying a bit more attention to Wednesday, hooked by her performance at the Ball. He had given her his own dragon figurine and she hadn't known whether to strangle him or maim him and scatter his body parts to the wind. So she had kept quiet. The twins had issued challenges a number of times, and he had bemusedly accepted. They cancelled each other out nicely.

Harry had teased his sister about that and only his quick reflexes had kept him from an early, painful demise. An angry Wednesday was a good way to keep in shape.

Draco and Blaise were childishly refusing to talk to him. Harry just smiled. They would come around.

It was unicorns today in Care of Magical Creatures, and Hagrid was nowhere to be found. How odd.

"My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank," The short, stubby teacher said. "Boys keep back. They prefer the woman's touch, unicorns."

It was a disgustingly ethereal creature, a full fifteen hands high, and all the girls were clustered around it, their faces painted with wonder. At least the Gryffindors were. The Slytherins were talking lowly amongst themselves. They hadn't made a move in a while, hampered as they were with their persistent gonorrhea and the consistent flare-up of headaches and nosebleeds, so they were probably due a little faux pas.

Click click.

There in the undergrowth, the sun glinted off a black carapace. Harry followed without a backward glance, disappearing into the bushes.

The Skrewts, now as big as Labradors, swarmed to him, nudging him down to the ground so he could pet them better. Their venom was more dangerous now, capable of burning a hole through steel. He smiled elatedly. Grandmama had never had this particular kind of poison before. She would be pleased.

The earth thundered under him, and then there were shouts.

He blinked, then started to coax the Skrewts off him.

"Shoo, my darlings, I'll feed you later."

Harry made his way back to the group and felt a little frown forming between his eyebrows. He smoothed it away carefully before approaching. Professor Grubbly-Plank was trying to calm the madly neighing unicorn, which was rearing high into the air, its hooves flashing and its eyes wide and bulging.

"Get Madame Pomfrey!" She yelled at the group of Gryffindors and Slytherins. Some were teary-eyed and shocked but all of those were the Lions, Harry noted. Hermione's slim form dashed away from them, running for the castle.

Blaise, looking a little rumpled, knelt next to Draco, his arm pillowing the downy blond head. Blood, redder than rubies, glistened in the grass and on the unicorn's horn, winking mockingly in the sunlight.

The gash was ragged and terrible, from his elbow to his shoulder. Draco's face was pasty and he took long gulps of air, gritting his teeth against the searing pain. Harry's cold touch feathered over his forehead and down his neck.

"So brave, my Jormungandr." He said fondly, and pressed down on a specific point, like he had done to Blaise last year. Draco passed out.

"Harveste, can you - the blood -" Blaise clutched his friend tighter. He was barely holding it together himself, and his tone was pleading.

"It's not as bad as yours was, darling."

Something glimmered on the torn clothes. Harry narrowed his eyes at it. It looked like unicorn blood.

Someone had put unicorn blood on Draco. Unicorns hated nothing more than the smell of the death of one of their kind.

Harry looked thoughtfully at the gash for a moment, then bent own over Draco's neck. He was losing a lot of blood, and he would have to lose a little bit more. With a last gentle caress over the torn skin, he bit into the soft flesh, his dark hair masking his motions.

The blood was warm and thick, but he couldn't think about that now. He focused the taste of it, the tingle and throb, and his Power flowed through his hand. It wasn't normally used for healing, but it could and it would be now. And it would be fast because he was the one doing it, and when he was done, he would find whoever had done this. And he would bring along Wednesday.

-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-

Madame Pomfrey had been impressed at how neatly the wound had been put together. There hadn't even been a scar, just nothing more than a silvery line that marked where the unicorn had pierced him. It was a little sore, Draco reported as he clenched his fist to prove that he still had motor function, and a dose of Blood-Replenishing Potion later, he was walking out of the infirmary. Hermione had cannoned into him, sobbing hysterically. Draco met Blaise's eyes over his and mouthed Girls. Blaise just shrugged and bumped their shoulders together before they all went into the Great Hall for dinner. Harry did not join them.

He had other plans.

He had excused himself from the infirmary earlier after answering the Healer's questions. One look had Wednesday following him in the shadows that afternoon. He had smelled the unicorn blood on a few Slytherin uniforms, and he had pointed them out quietly. Wednesday had smiled.

Now he walked into the third floor girls' bathroom and hissed his way into the Chamber of Secrets. There would be no need for Silencing spells down here. It smelled a bit like Grandmama's kitchen now, but with less entrails and more snake, and just one death. So far.

It wasn't gloomy anymore. They liked to work in the light, so the victims could see exactly what was happening to them.

Wednesday was standing in one corner, the firelight making her gruesome grin even more demonic, adding the finishing touches to a potion. She had done as he had asked, and now they were nearly ready. Skele-Gro, Blood-Replenisher, Skin-Back, Forgetfulness and Confusion; all healing potions., all in plentiful quantity.

Attached to the too-high ceiling were ropes which he had hooked on himself, regardless of height, and dangling from each one was a Slytherin. Three ropes for three playthings. The thick, hairy rope was tight around their ankles, their hands bound, and they swung like sides of beef in a butcher shop, hair brushing against the hewn stone.

Bodro Derrick. Marcus Flint. Daphne Greengrass.

"You have been very stupid."

Daphne jerked at the sound of his voice. "Addams, you son of a whore! Let us go!"

He was beside her in a moment, her head in his hands, twisting experimentally. "You are in no position to demand anything, little toy."

"Don't fuck around! We're students, you can't hurt us!"

"I beg to differ. Have you never wondered what happened to Vincent Crabbe?"

Boro spoke for the first time. For such a big person, his voice quavered most enchantingly. "We-we thought he'd moved to Durmstrang."

"You are mistaken. He has moved much farther than that."

"Let us go!" Daphne began to wiggle furiously, trying to get her hands free. He could feel the veins in her head start to throb in agitation and her voice was tainted with fear. "Let us go!"

Wednesday moved with clinical precision. She slashed at their wrists, then their ankles, then made tiny incisions along their jugulars. She knew exactly where the veins were, and the blood flowed, sluggishly at first, then in a steady drip drip drip into the bowls she had placed under their heads.

"You are stupid people with stupid grudges, but even the blood of the stupid can be used for the better. You will not die yet, I am so sorry to say, and you will not remember, but tonight, I will make sure you wish you were dead. And if you hurt my friends again, why, I can just do this over and over and over, until your minds break down and you are left as mere worthless shells, dribbling your spit down your chin, pissing yourselves and useless to anyone except the executioner. And I will be that executioner."

Their screams were better than the song of the violin, better than any orchestra, better than a master like Brahms or Mozart could ever think of composing, and they were played with expertise, with relish, and their laughter was that of the werewolf to the moon when it shone over the mountains. But there was no moon here, no mountains, and no werewolf. There would be no witnesses.

-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-

Harry licked his lips as he tucked his thermos back into his pocket. They had gotten a whole two weeks' worth of blood in the end. A Fountain of Youth indeed.

They were sitting at the edge of the dock in the early morning light, legs dangling in the freezing water as they watched Viktor doing his daily swim. Cousin What sat beside them, fastidiously keeping every strand of hair out of the lake. The whole Family knew that the Cousins hated getting wet. They took thirty seconds to take a bath and at least three hours to get out of the bad mood.

"Harry?"

He tilted his head. Hermione was looking at him, uncharacteristically shy and biting her thumb. "Yes, darling?"

"What does…uh…what does 'filia' mean?"

He blinked.

"And 'jormungandr' while you're at it." Draco butted in. He was leaning against Blaise's back, curling and uncurling his arm to exercise the torn muscles. That word, the look in the hard green eyes and the way Blaise had held him were the only things he had remembered after getting gored by the unicorn.

"Jormungandr is the venomous Midgard Serpent of old Norse mythology who will cause the end of the world," Harry explained with a smile, reaching out to caress the flexing limb and let a little of his Power tingle through. "And fylgja, I think you mean, Hermione, is an omen of death."

Hermione started to splutter. Blaise bit his fist to muffle his chuckles.

"But when they appear in the form of women, they're like guardian spirits." Harry elaborated, turning to poke her forehead teasingly.

"Well… well…"

Wednesday snorted as she tipped something into the water. It was a ghastly white color and it glooped most disturbingly. "You and your pet names, Harry."

Golden hair shone like needles in the frosty light, causing Wednesday to jump into the water to avoid getting run through. Cousin What buzzed in annoyance. A vial emerged from the tawny depths, and a few strands curled around its base and emptied it into the water where it started to smoke.

Viktor started to thrash around in the distance, swearing in indistinct Bulgarian.

"Bzbzbz-bzzzz-bz!"

Senbon slashed through the water like mini-torpedoes and Viktor bobbed up again, followed by Wednesday.

"I was just having a little fun!" She yelled, waving a fistful of senbon at them.

"Come up here then. I'm sure Cousin What has a little fun planned for you."

-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-

Harry had caught Rita Skeeter in her illegal Animagus form. It seemed she hadn't learned her lesson from their last encounter, sniffing around as she was for another nauseatingly twisted piece that she could publish in that rag of a newspaper. Unfortunately for her, she would never get a chance to learn it now.

He bit deep into her neck, the Power surrounding them funneling her screams right back at her. Flesh and muscle gave way to his sharp teeth and he drank gluttonously. It had grated against every sense he had, leaving those three idiots alive, but it had been necessary. As much as he had wanted to give Draco proof of what he had done for the sake of their friendship, he couldn't, because they had been right. People would notice three students disappearing, and no matter how good he was at covering his tracks, the Tournament was under enough scrutiny as it was. He would just have to take his meals the regular way, in the dark and by surprise.

No one would miss Rita Skeeter. She was a gossip, and a talentless writer who had no right to string even two words together. He whispered those things and many more into her mind, and she wailed louder and louder, pleading, begging sweetly until she ran out of breath, until her heart stopped beating, and she grew cold in his hands.

A snap of the fingers had her corpse burning in hungry white-hot flames, and the shadows flowed from him and around her, shielding her from sight. He dabbed conscientiously at his lips with a napkin. Another snap and the Power blew the greasy ashes out of the window, never to be seen again. Too easy.

"Mister Addams!"

He turned around with a raised eyebrow, pushing the stained napkin into his pocket. "Yes?"

Professor Snape descended upon him like a ferocious bat, Professor Moody stumping along behind him. "You are wandering about after curfew!" The greasy-haired man said, the expression on his sallow face very nearly happy. He looked like he'd been wanting to say this for years. "Fifty points from Gryffindor!"

Harry stifled a chuckle. "I think you'll find that I'm in Slytherin, Professor, your House. Remember?"

Snape looked like he wanted to choke on his own tongue.

"What are you doing at this time of night?" Professor Moody said. His strange eye moved about, going left to right, backwards and upwards, so rapidly and so at odds with his other eye that it could make anyone watching a little sick. He would find nothing though, Harry was sure of that.

"I'm trying to find my snake, sir. I'm afraid she's gotten away from me at the moment."

"Students are not allowed to keep snakes, Mister Addams." Professor Snape tried again.

A black shape slithered out of the shadows behind him, the head raised proudly at least two feet of the ground. It snapped at the Professors' feet and, as they jumped out of the way, climbed up Harry's leg and appeared coiled around his shoulders. It hissed threateningly at them.

"Black Mamba venom is a key ingredient in certain American potions that cater to the betterment of sexually-transmitted diseases." Harry smiled genially. "I'm so sorry to hear about your syphilis, Professor, and so soon after the gonorrhea. I'm sure Deidre would love to be of some assistance."

-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-

An Addams power was directed through their body. They were trained in it from birth, memorizing the pathways and channels. It was one reason why they were so well-versed in acupressure points, the other reason that it was just fun knowing exactly where to press to bring a tougher-than-thou behemoth crying to his knees. Addams weren't in the habit of using external items, so the magic that came true was often uncontrolled. It was more exciting that way, Harry thought.

He flicked his wand and Draco went flying. Fortunately, Professor Flitwick had realized how powerful a Harveste with a wand was and had padded the room like an over-zealous mental hospital. Draco picked himself up with the light of vengeance blazing in his eyes.

"You're supposed to Banish the cushions." Blaise said, not minding in the least. He stuck his tongue out playfully at Draco.

"Don't tease him, darling."

Blaise ducked the Slashing Hex, then he swished his wand in a new way. "Erecto." He said gleefully.

Draco blinked. Then he looked down.

"Blaise!"

-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-

Draco had stopped trying to kill him in time for the Second Task. He sat sullenly on the bench, nursing a split lip. Blaise sat next to him, sporting a black eye and a very Addams smile. Hermione clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"You guys are so -"

"Dense? Dim-witted?" Wednesday supplied, her eyes on the Lake. "Brainless?"

Cedric, Viktor and Harry had gone into the water forty minutes ago. Cedric had used a Bubble-head charm, and Viktor had turned into some sort of half-shark. Harry had brought a snorkel.

Fleur had also tried to use the Bubble-head charm, but after just twenty minutes, she had swum back to shore, sobbing like a romantic book's heroine, blood streaming from various cuts on her legs and arms. All of them had rolled their eyes derisively. Then Wednesday had disappeared.

And re-appeared a few minutes later in the wake of a high-pitched shriek, clutching a handful of silvery hair that still had bits of bloody scalp attached to it.

"Grindylows," she had said by way of explanation. As if they would believe her.

The crowd ooh'd and aah'd as Cedric crawled out of the murky water, hauling his father by the collar. Blaise had wondered whether Wednesday would have been the one 'that he would sorely miss', but he was gratified to see that the Hufflepuff boy wasn't as vapid as all that. Cedric stood with effort, panting from exertion, and as soon as the Healers had gathered around his father, he went back to the Lake edge and he dragged out a few small, mangled Grindylow bodies. The cuts were jagged, as if done hesitantly at first, but then growing more and more sure. The last one was just a head.

Wednesday looked suitably impressed.

There was still no sign of Harry or Viktor. Hermione started to tear up her program with her teeth.

Fifty minutes since they had gone in, and still they hadn't emerged. Draco bit his lip, eyes narrowed, then turned to Wednesday. "He does know how to swim, doesn't he?"

"Not at all. Why?"

Then, just as Blaise patted Hermione's back comfortingly, the Lake began to froth and bubble, as if the fires of damnation were under it. There was a dominant smell of rotting fish and sun-dried beached whale.

A tremendous tentacle slapped down on the sand to a chorus of screams and stampeding feet. Another thudded down beside it, moving obscenely in the afternoon light. A grotesquely horrifying sound tore through the air, like what had been in the Golden Egg, but much, much worse because this was live and it was happening right in front of them. Blaise clutched Draco's arm, enmity forgotten, Hermione sandwiched protectively between their bodies. Harry would never forgive them if they didn't defend each other. The water continued to boil wildly until four more tentacles shot up like a ballistic cannon, with four figures sitting on the knobbed coils like they had just been on a walk around the beach.

Viktor Krum, Cousin What, Harry and...

"Mother!"

The four of them stood up, ready to welcome the Champions, but just then, as the Giant Squid slid back into its home, its cry was replaced by that of an angry hornets' nest, fierce and furious buzzing that had them clapping their hands tightly over their ears.

Cousin What was Pissed Off.

Viktor was trying to calm his 'itfriend' down with a few drying charms, and they caught a few mentions of "Valravn", a pet name between the two which was explained by Harry to be something along the lines of a supernatural being who ate children's hearts and dead bodies. They had never really understood why, because both Victor and Cousin What had been the most amiable Addams and Addams-to-be that they had ever seen, but today they got their answer.

Golden hair spread out like an avenging star fish, revealing even more hair under it. The buzz sharpened, reaching peaks that could bust eardrums, and Cousin What moved forward. If there had been eyes under that hostile coiffure, it would have been glaringly hammered on the Judging Box and one Professor Karkaroff. There was movement, quicker than lightning in a field, more nimble than Wednesday when she wanted a little time to play, and suddenly steel-like tresses were lashed around the scrawny neck of the Durmstrang Headmaster.

Stunning and Cutting Hexes were absorbed with barely a twitch. Viktor's soothing Bulgarian was sounding more and more resigned. It look like Durmstrang would have to find another principal.

"Cousin What, your manners."

Morticia Addams was the true vampire bride. There was no cinematic gore-fest in the world worthy of her. She slinked up the path that had been cleared by Cousin What, a ghoulishly thin figure swathed in black lace, gracefully eerie smile turned on to the choking Karkaroff. She ran a bone-white hand over Cousin What's head and the fury subsided, though the hold on the Headmaster's throat was slow to unwind.

"You must forgive our Cousin. They have never liked water."

"Thank you, thank you," The man gasped pathetically. He put his hand in Morticia's extended one, then turned a pitiful glare on his subordinates. "You-you are expelled. Immediately."

There was a crunch. He had forgotten he was still shaking hands with the Addams matriarch.

Harry turned back to his friends with a smile.

"What took you so long?" Wednesday huffed. "And you didn't bring anything with you. I mean, even Cedric got me some Grindylows."

"How sweet of him. I suppose you won't be having dinner with me tonight then?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "She always eats with us, Harry. What're you talking about?"

"I will not be eating in the Great Hall tonight. Mother and I will be having merfolk. On a stick."

-.-.-.-…-.-.-.-

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End of Part 4

In my defense, darlings, Luna wasn't mentioned until the fifth book. Ah, but when she is….you all just better get ready for some MADNESS! To Shadowface about my Chamber of Secrets, Tom Marvolo was the son of Merope Gaunt, but his father, Tom Senior, was the son of Mary Riddle. Harveste was mentioning his Muggle heritage to mess with him :)