Pre-AN/AR: Did anyone/body get the drowning in tapioca pudding reference? I'll give ya a l'il hint: A Sarcastic Git's Golden Rules at Hogwarts by Twisted Biscuit, chapter five.

Albus Dumbledore was a rather grumpy man. He hadn't expected his having Minerva punish the Twins by making them stay at the school over the holidays to work. Oh, no, not to any extent whatsoever. He had merely wished to send the Addamses a message that the green-eyes children would not be theirs forever. They were relatively young; eleven, that was all. Quite easily swayed, he was completely certain.

Especially toward him, Albus Dumbledore.

He wasn't being proud, oh, no, not at all. But he was powerful, and the Wizarding World was in awe of him. He knew this, and he knew this well. People older than he were in awe of him, so what reason could there be for two impressionable young minds not to be, after all? But if the rise in non-Weasley Twin related pranks was an indicator, the Addams Twins were far more loyal to their Family, than he had originally thought… Now how to correct that?

Young Harry must defeat Voldemort, after all. It was the only way. And to do that, he must be a martyr. But the boy was too connected to his life! He had too many relations at Hogwarts… He could fire the grandmother… No, then she'd take away his saviour. Hmm…

Albus Dumbledore self-satisfiedly popped a lemon drop into his mouth, smugness scrawled about his features. The girl. Yes, little Wednesday would be key. He would… cause the Addamses to believe that the girl was dead… because of Harry, yes, that would do.

Let's see, Severus was having the First Years test the Creature Ancestry Potion in two weeks' time, so… Harry would be so shocked that he would kill Wednesday in a fit of fearful accidental magic. He would be crestfallen, the Addamses would positively loathe him, and students would fear him. Perfect. He would be able to have two of his loyal students, a pair of Hufflepuffs. Ernie MacMillan, and… No, Susan Bones wouldn't do… Had the girl grown up with her parents, perhaps. But the girl had grown up with Amelia Bones, and the woman was as, if not more so, paranoid than Alastar. And worse, the wench didn't trust anyone with anything to do with poitics, and she especially didn't trust him, Albus Dumbledore. Cadwaller! Yes, the burly lad would do well. He was in the year about little Harry, and his family were unswervingly loyal; to him, Albus Dumbledore. Harry would look to the boy for help with his studies, lady friend troubles… all while reporting back to him, Albus Dumbleore.

And then… he would welcome Harry into his home, and he would re-educate the boy. Wednesday would be re-educated as well, and would take the place of… his granddaughter. Yes, perfect. His adopted granddaughter. He would alter her looks ever so slightly, just enough that she would look shockingly like herself, but still not. Young Harry would do anything to hold onto his beloved sister, even if it 'wasn't' her. Then, he, Albus Dumbledore, would form a marriage contract between the two, and thus become Young Harry's guardian, and the Addams would have no chance whatsoever to reclaim him.

Harry would be utterly loyal to the Light, and to him, Albus Dumbledore. The boy would martyr himself, after marrying Wednesday - she would need a new name, wouldn't she? - and her being with child. The Potter line would continue, with him firmly controlling it.

After all, the chance to both rid the world of Tom Riddle and Harry Potter - the two biggest threats to him - at once, as well as to be in control of one of the wealthiest families in all of Wizarding Europe was far too perfect to let pass. Of course, confirming whether or not the Potter Vaults truly DID have a Philosopher's Stone was a pleasant benefit, as well.

He would need to make the Addamses' more . . . Docile, though, wouldn't he?

He, Albus Dumbledore, no, the GREAT Albus Dumbledore stroked his beard, being rather pleased with himself.

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Hannah studied their Headmaster curiously. "You know," she murmured to her four friends, "When Professor Dumbledore's eyes keep on twinkling like that, it makes me want to frown him in tapioca pudding."

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It was Wednesday's birthday, but she didn't really expect anyone to make much of a fuss about it.

She must have been severely muddled.

When she woke up that morning, no-one was in her dorm room. She raised an eyebrow, but shrugged and made her way to her trunk to find some hopefully matching socks.

No such luck. Crap.

Wednesday finished dressing herself in somewhat warm clothing and stepped down the stairs.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WEDNESDAY!"

Ow. Her ears hurt. Wednesday looked about the room, and, annoyed though she may be that her ears hurt (And whoever plotted the shouting would be lynched. Or at least shoved in the dark dungeons where the only sound was the drip, drip, dripping of leaky pipes, with no light. Even the persons own voice would not be heard. They would wander for days, until they were smart enough to call for a house elf or something.) Wednesday couldn't help but smile a little wee bit at the whole of Hufflepuff house holding up a giant banner and singing 'Happy Birthday' to her, complete with a white and black iced marble cake in the shape of a human skull, and a half-melted candle stuck on the top of it.

"Aww…" she murmured. Harry, Neville, Hannah, and Susan stepped forward from the group and dragged with them a large black box with a thick, somehow darker black, bow wrapped around it.

"Hope ya like it, sis," Harry muttered sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Grinning now, Wednesday pulled the bow.

The box opened, the sides falling flat to reveal a baby Cerberus. "Oh!" Wednesday whispered in shock. A real Greek Cerberus, he even had the serpent tail! She threw her arms around her friends and declared happily, "Call him Ishmael!"

Everyone that was familiar with Moby Dick laughed.

Ishmael barked happily.

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"Harcourt?"

"Hmm?" Harry asked, looking up from his Salem text. "What is it, Wednesday?"

Wednesday thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Meh, never mind."

Harry just shrugged and went back to his book.

"Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes and looked up from his book. Dracom their little pet. "Yeah, Draconious?"

Draco visibly flinched a little at the use of his full first name. "Why're you and your sister always reading those books?" hew asked, nodding to the textbooks Harry and Wednesday were currently studying.

Harry glanced at them, them said monotonously, "Salem studies."

"Salem studies?"

Harry saw Wednesday's ees take on a cruel glint as she looked up and said in an air of utmost authority, "Beg your pardon, Scion Malfoy, but, pray do tell, what reason is there to leave myself out of a conversation concerning me?"

Draco stammered a bit, "Uhm, er, n-nothing, nothing at all, I just thought that you looked… busy." He finished lamely.

Wednesday eyed him for a moment, her features cold. Thewn she nodded. "You wear to much hair gel. Dismissed, Scion."

After the boy left, Harry passed a note to Wednesday. She opened it, only to find that the parchment - rather like the stationary more commonly associated with funeral notices than schoolchildren - had but a few choice words. Or, rather, One.

Daedalus?

Wednesday nodded to him, and they closed their books. The crown prank just must be played, after all.

Now who to be the victim?