Disclaimer is in chapter 1.

The rest of the holidays passed quickly, and as with every holiday Xander could remember, ended abruptly with him heading back to school. It wasn't so bad this time, though, cause he had to admit his classes were hilarious, if not outright fun, and the subject matter was almost universally of interest to him.

The portkey brought them back to Hogsmeade a couple days before classes were to start, and Mr. Addams escorted them through the wards to the main gate.

"Distasteful things." He said, glaring up as they approached the castle.

"What's that, Sir?"

"The wards. They're clearly racist."

Xander frowned, "I thought they only kept out dark creatures?"

"Precisely!" Gomez fumed, "What if some poor werewolf or vampire wanted to attend classes? It's discriminating, I tell you."

Xander frowned, but nodded dutifully, more because he knew that would satisfy Gomez rather than in agreement. The Addamses had certainly given him a lot to think about, but he just didn't know enough to say anything.

At the gates they were met by Argus Filch, who was as always grumbling about being at the beck and call of the brats who plagued the castle.

"Back in my day they let us string up the little runts who caused trouble," He muttered darkly, quiet enough to expect to go unheard, but that's not how it went.

"Capital idea, old man!" Gomez clapped Argus Filch on the back, shocking the sour faced old man into silence. "Nothing like some decent recreation to break up the scholastic doldrums!"

"They don't let us play with the torture equipment here," Wednesday sighed.

"What!? Why ever not?" Gomez blurted, honestly shocked.

"It's not considered wholesome."

Gomez stopped in mid-step, looking at his daughter with horror in his eyes. "What? Nonsense! What could be more wholesome than children playing!?"

By this point even Argus was staring at Gomez like he was some kind of strange creature from another world. Wednesday just sighed, "It's alright, Father."

"By George it is NOT!" Gomez raised his voice, attracting attention from down the hall. "I won't have it! Children should be children, and what's more childish than a spot of torture now and then?"

A soft chuckle announced the arrival of another person, and they all looked over to see the white haired Headmaster approach.

"A quite fantastic way of putting things, Mr. Addams." Dumbledore said, his tone warm and amused.

"It is!?" Filch blurted, his tone horrified, though whether it was by Addams' statement or the idea of children playing with his collection of torture implements, no one could tell.

"Indeed. However, I'm afraid that the board of governors would look askance on our permitting the children to inflict harm on one another." Dumbledore said.

"It's an outrage, Sir." Gomez grumbled, "How are they supposed to learn?"

That gave Dumbledore pause, and he blinked as he looked at the Addams Patriarch. "Learn? Learn what pray tell?"

"Why, the fundamentals of course! How to ride that exquisite line of pain in order to keep your victim alive and focused without blurring the experience!? How to properly maintain your tools... Rusty manacles are asking for all sorts of problems in the dungeon... and what about..."

"Father," Wednesday cut in, drawing the attention of all the adults, as well as Xander. "That's what home study is for."

That took the wind out of Gomez' sails, but actually caused Dumbledore to blanche slightly at the little girl who had so calmly made such a statement.

Gomez, however, just sighed. "Of course, you're right, Wednesday darling. I just hate to see children so disadvantaged."

Having spent the holidays with the family, Xander had become desensitized to the often bizarre trains of thought they all seemed to follow, the others in the area didn't however, and the pale faces and shocked looks almost had him laughing out loud at the entire group.

"Uh, yes well, we must all endure." Dumbledore managed to get out in a strangled voice.

"Too true." Gomez nodded sadly, putting and arm across the old wizards shoulders as he patted the Headmaster's back in commiseration. "It seems our lot in life to see inequity ravage our world's children."

As everyone stared Gomez just shrugged and turned back to Wednesday, "Are you certain you'll be alright here?"

Wednesday merely nodded, "Of course, Father."

Gomez nodded and sighed, "very well. I'll be off then, owl me if you need anything."

"I will, Father."

Gomez turned to Xander then, "And the same to you, young man. It was a pleasure to have you with us for the holidays."

Xander, now used to the family's sense of formality smiled slightly and half bowed. "It was my pleasure, Sir. Thank you for having me."

"Anytime."

With that, Gomez Addams turned and strode out of the school, leaving gaping figures in his wake.

Xander exchanged a glance with Wednesday, noting the hidden smile in her eyes, and wondered just how oblivious to other people's morals she and her family really were.

Slytherin house was pretty quiet when Xander made his way in, most of the house still at home for the holidays as far as he knew. That left Xander with the time to carefully stash his new broom under his bed, carefully sandwiched between some random stuff that should hold no interest to any snoopers. It wasn't the best security, but it would do.

For the moment his concern was actually the twins, and how to appropriately return the experience they had favored him with. It was going to take some heavy duty planning, and a lot of study. Now, normally that would have been enough to send him packing, but this was one time that study was actually fun.

Xander really didn't understand how anyone could NOT love most of the assignments they were given. Making things fly? Changing some things shape? Every class was an experience in comic book goodness brought to life. Oh, it wasn't always easy, for sure but he was willing to endure in exchange for the ability to shift his shape, turn invisible, and fly around at better than a hundred miles an hour on a fricken broomstick.

Nailing the twins, however, was going to take some tricks well beyond his year and skill.

Xander sighed, opening up the Grimoire and moved on to the next step in transfiguration techniques.

Narcissa Malfoy frowned softly as she read over the notes made in the Grimoire. The person on the other end of the book was focusing heavily on transfiguration so far, and she wondered if it was because this was his or her passion, or if they had a plan.

"Draco, honey," She glanced over to where her son was playing a game of wizard chess against the magical board. "Tell me about Hogwarts today."

"Hmm?" Draco glanced up as one of his knights eviscerated the opposing Bishop. "What do you want to know?"

"When I was there we had to deal with a group calling themselves the Marauders," Narcissa said pensively, "They styled themselves as pranksters supreme, is there anyone like that?"

Draco snorted, "The Weasley Twins. They're always causing trouble, usually picking on Slytherins."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Draco said, distracted by his game. "They got one of ours just a little while before the holidays, though I think it was by accident."

"Why do you think that?"

"I think they were aiming for the Slytherin Quidditch players," Draco said, "but they got a first year instead. He refused to give them up to Snape, though. The professor was furious."

"Ah."

Narcissa expected that was an understatement, knowing her son's godfather's proclivities. How Dumbledore had managed to get him installed as a Potions professor still utterly boggled her mind, even with Lucius pulling strings on the board.

Draco didn't look up from the board as he continued, "Harris stuck to his wand though, wouldn't give them up for some reason."

Narcissa straightened slightly, looking at her son sharply. "Did you say 'Harris'?"

"Yeah, Alexander something Harris. He goes by the ludicrous nickname 'Xander'."

"Is he of the Harris line?" Narcissa asked bluntly.

Draco frowned, "What Harris line?"

"The Harris Family is a very old pure blood line, Draco. I had thought they had died out ages ago."

Draco shrugged, "I don't know. I can't imagine him being of any important bloodline, mother, he's a colonial."

"The Americas or Australia?" Narcissa asked sharply.

"Uh, America. Why?"

"Many of the Australian families are descended from families that sent their black sheep members away as punishment. Most of those were stricken from the family line before being packed away on the ships." Narcissa explained, "The Americas were populated primarily by those who chose to leave, some were stricken from the lists anyway, but many were not."

"So Harris might be a family Heir?" Draco blinked.

"It's possible. I'm sure Gringotts still maintains the vaults for the old families."

"Why would they do that?"

"Family lines go dormant quite often, particularly in the wizarding world, Draco." She told him, "Squib descendants can't claim a vault, but if they have magical children then those may come forward. Additionally many of the old families, most in fact, are patriarchal. It can take several generations before a magical male heir comes forward by times."

Draco snorted, "So Harris might be rich?"

Narcissa shook her head, "Unlikely. Most of the old vaults would have been stripped by their last heirs, or their inheritors. The vaults themselves, however, are contracted to the family line."

"An empty vault? What good is that?" Draco rolled his eyes.

Narcissa permitted herself an expression that bordered on both a smile and a frown. "Draco, please, put some thought into it."

Draco blinked, looking taken aback, then frowned. "Only an heir can claim a vault... would there be other things in the vault?"

Narcissa smiled very slightly, "Precisely. There may well be, though it's hard to say. Of course, unless he is quite wealthy, an heir could well bankrupt himself trying to claim it."

"Why?"

"Goblins, Draco, don't stop charging Vault fees simply because a vault is empty you know." Narcissa shrugged, "On a particularly old vault one might find the fees associated with claiming it to be... quite significant."

Draco blinked, then shuddered. "Filthy sub creatures. They should have been wiped out ages ago."

Narcissa sighed, but said nothing further on the matter. Lucius had infected her son with his attitude and, worse, neither showed the slightest aptitude of being able to HIDE their internal prejudices. It would get her son in trouble someday, but she couldn't seem to impress on him the importance of diplomacy.

It was terribly frustrating.

He almost had it.

What he had, he wasn't sure yet, but Xander was certain that he almost had it.

The plan to get back at the twins was still percolating, but slowly it had begun to firm up into something he could really begin to work on. The first step had been the concept, which had been easy. The twins themselves gave him the biggest part of that, Xander was an eye for an eye kind of person. The next step was the hardest, the prep work, but he had an idea for that.

Delivery and Execution, it turned out, would be almost as easy as concept.

The Grimoire was the key to it all, Xander found, when he read one of the sections describing how the Marauders got away with many of their pranks. A couple days after arriving back to school, Xander made his first appearance in the Hogwarts kitchens.

"Yes, young Sir, cans we be helping you?"

Xander shifted nervously, looking around, "Uh... yeah, I was wondering if I could get a snack?"

The funny looking little fellow practically shuddered in glee, nodding instantly. "Certainly, young master, what would you likes?"

"Uh... a sandwich?" Xander blinked, surprised that it was that easy, despite what the grimoire had to say on the matter.

The elf quickly belted out a long selection list, and Xander asked for roast beef, then it was off like a flash as the little fellow built a sandwich, literally, on the fly. When it came back, large plate of food and a large mug of pumpkin juice in hand, Xander could see how incredibly happy the little fellow was to be of help.

"Um," Xander took a bite, then smiled, "Great food, thanks."

The little elf twitched again, sighing in pleasure, then bounced up and down. "Mikey is pleased to help, anytime, young master."

"Uh, how come you guys don't show yourselves anyway?" Xander asked, leaning against the wall as he ate.

"Oh, school elves is not allowed to show themselves to students, Sir."

Xander blinked, "But what about... now?"

"Mikey did not show himself to young master, young master showed himself to Mikey." The Elf explained patiently.

Xander nodded, he'd guessed that it was something like that from the description in the book. The rules were there, and were ironclad, but the iron seemed to have rusted through in more than a few spots. "Say, uh, Mikey, could you help me out? I was wondering where they did the laundry?"

"Oh, Laundry elves handle that, Sir. Mikey show you."

And the elf proceeded to do just that, leading Xander through the back rooms and passageways of Hogwarts as he made mental notes and tried not to get lost all the while listening the elf babble on in it's odd way of speaking.

The grimoire was right, he found quickly, the elves were the key to Hogwarts.

They ran everything, from what Xander could tell, controlled everything from behind the scenes. Food, laundry, most cleaning, hell Xander was honestly trying to figure out what Filch did other than catch students who were out of bounds. Of course, it was possible that was his entire job.

When the tour was finished, and Xander had stopped asking questions, he thanked the elves profusely and made his way back to the Slytherin common room.

One obstacle down, one more to go.

The students arrival back at Hogwarts was a big deal, with food and a lot of merry chatter filling the great hall as people shared stories of their holidays. Xander considered doing just that, but somehow playing torture with Wednesday seemed creepy even to him now that he wasn't surrounded by the Addamses twenty four hours a day.

They had a cool yet creepy effect on people, Xander decided.

He smiled to Hermione as she walked past the table, heading for the Gryffindor seating, earning himself a smile in return. Draco Malfoy, on his right, however sneered at her and then glared over at Xander.

"Why are you smiling at the mudblood, Harris?"

Xander glanced over at the blond boy, "Why not?"

Draco paused, seeming to look for a response, "Because she's a mudblood!"

"Which means what?" Xander asked, shrugging.

"She's not a pureblood, you idiot."

"I'm still trying to see why that matters."

Draco was slowly turning a rather disturbing shade of pink at Xander's continued oblivious stance. He could handle someone attacking him back, but how was he supposed to handle someone who didn't even acknowledge that his point of view had any validity?

"She's beneath us!" Draco blurted, not noticing that he had unconsciously referred to Xander as a pureblood, one of his own in effect.

"So... you're argument is based on the assumption that we're better than she is?" Xander replied.

"Of course."

"Ok. Prove it."

Draco blinked again. "What?"

"Prove it. What makes you better?"

"I'm a pureblood!"

"Uh... ok, what makes a pureblood better?"

"Uh..." Draco stammered, thinking furiously. He couldn't actually think of any examples, but that was just the fact that he was being put on the spot, of course. His father had talked about how inferior mudbloods were all his life, so there had to be some examples in there.

"She's one of the smartest students in the school," Xander said calmly, "Ok... she's a bit of a know it all, really, but that's cause she's nervous a lot. I've got a friend back home who's the same way. Magically, she seems to be at least equal to the average, I mean she's not the strongest but she's not the weakest either. Right?"

Draco found himself nodding, almost against his will. It was true enough, he supposed.

"So why is she beneath us?" Xander asked, unknowingly cementing the opinions of everyone around him that he must be a pureblood from the colonies.

"I'm a Malfoy." Draco ground out.

Xander frowned, wondering what that had to do with it, but remembered some of his classes so far. "Ah. Nobility, right?"

Daphne Greengrass snickered.

Draco just turned redder, fuming.

"What?" Xander looked confused.

"The Malfoy's aren't nobility. They're a merchant family." Daphne said after a moment's indecision.

"Ah, well Hermione's family are dentists. That's a type of healer," Xander said, "in Muggle terms they're very respected and very well paid... well, ok, not so much on the respected. No one likes dentists," he finished with a grin.

Some of the table looked curious, but it was Daphne who asked. "Why?"

"They do specialized healing of the teeth, it can hurt and it really sucks to have anyone poking around in your mouth for a couple hours." Xander replied, grinning.

"Barbarians." Malfoy said with a sneer.

Xander shrugged, having had this conversation with Hermione some time ago. "They don't have potions and charms, so they do things their own way. It works, though not as good as the right healing charm. The point is, they are rather well respected despite my earlier joke, and are pretty comfortable when it comes to money."

"But they're not magical." Draco said, trumping the conversation.

"No, but Hermione is." Xander returned. "So what makes her worse than you?"

Draco redoubled his glare, but honestly Xander didn't give a damn. He'd been glared at by kids and adults his entire life, usually for doing just what he was doing here and now. At least so far it was just talking, though Xander supposed that had as much to do with it being in the middle of the Great Hall during meal time.

"Tell you what, take your time, come up with a reason or two, and we'll do this again." Xander said after a moment, smirking perhaps a little too childishly for his own good. "In the meantime, let's eat."

Draco glared at him for several minutes, then spent the rest of the meal shooting death glares alternatively at Xander and Hermione. Xander just tried to ignore him, at least the boy wasn't insulting his friends for now.

He didn't notice Daphne Greengrass eying him with a curious air during the rest of the meal.

That night Xander moved into the next step in his plan, code named 'Operation : Twin Humiliation'.

This time it involved making his way to the Slytherin common room and finding someone specific. He lucked out, noticing that she was alone and reading in a corner, and quickly made his way over to her.

"Hey."

The seventh year lowered her book, her garishly pink hair practically qualifying as a stunner spell.

"Wotcher."

"I need help." Xander said, taking a breath.

She snorted, "Do your own homework, midget."

"Not that kind of help." Xander forced a smile. "I've got a plan to take the twins down a peg. You're the best in your year in transfiguration, right?"

Her hair cycled colors for a moment, then she smirked, "Comes naturally, you might say. You think a midget like you can take on the twins?"

"Hear me out, then decide. Deal?" Xander said, extending his hand.

She laughed, and took his hand. "Deal. Call me Tonks, midget."

"The name is Xander, Tonks." Xander grinned, "Here's the plan..."