Disclaimer is in chapter 1.

"En Guard!"

Xander barely got his blade up to parry the stabbing attack Gomez sent at his heart, twisting around as the cold steel slid past him and turning the motion into a slash that came in on the older man's left side.

Gomez jumped straight up, bending his legs, and the blade slashed underneath him before he planted his heels down solidly on a nearby desk. "Excellent my boy! So, how was your shopping trip?"

Xander grunted, reversing his motion and thrusting his blade up at his opponent's crotch. He was unsurprised when Gomez back flipped off the desk, landing in the chair behind it. "Not bad, you should have come. Paris is nice in winter."

"Not my style, lad." Gomez shrugged, calmly parrying Xander's follow up slashes without getting up.

"Saw something interesting on the way." Xander went on, twisting away from a casual slash sent back his way before he completed the turn and drove his rapier blade in a thrust for Gomez' heart.

"Oh?" Gomez asked as he slid down in the set, angling his head to one side as the blade stuck into the leather chair. He kept sliding under the chair, then kicked up with surprising strength and sent the desk flying into Xander's face.

The impact of the heavy desk threw him back, and Xander rolled with it rather than try and fight the momentum. He barely cleared the area before the hardwood desk slammed down into the spot he'd been.

"Yeah," he gritted out, throwing his blade up into a hard block, wincing as the slender rapier flexed deeply. "You ever hear of something called the Art of Movement?"

Gomez shook his head, stumbling back in surprise as Xander lashed out with a kick to his shin. The Addam's Patriarch barely twisted in time to avoid the blade strike coming at him and pinned Xander's sword with his own, both straining against the other as the two looked each other in the eyes from inches away.

"Dirty pool, lad." Gomez said, rubbing his shin before he grinned. "I like it."

"Ah Crap." Xander had time to mutter before Gomez reversed his pressure and shoved, sending Xander flying back across the room. He hit the ground in a roll, then sprinted with Gomez hot on his heels, planting his feet on the furniture as Gomez gleefully hacked behind him.

He pivoted, parrying a slash as the chair under him balanced on two legs, Gomez slashing at him unmercifully. Xander let the chair plant on four legs again, then jumped back into a flip that carried him over Gomez strike. When he planted his feet back on the floor, however, the Addams was waiting for him and with three lightning flicks of his blade, Xander was disarmed with cold steel to his throat.

"So what is this Art of movement, then?" Gomez asked lightly as they came to a halt.

Xander grinned, shaking his head. "Thought I had you for a second there, Sir. And they do this, actually. Just without swords."

"Defeats the point, doesn't it?" Gomez grinned, walking over to the overturned desk. "And you're a couple decades from getting me, lad. Don't forget it."

Xander shook his head, but dropped into the chair he'd used as a launch platform, "So you say. And they seem to enjoy just running over things… you know, benches, fences, buildings…"

"Really? That does sound like fun." Gomez grinned, rescuing his cigar box from under the desk. He drew one out, offering it to Xander. "Cigar lad?"

"No thanks, don't you know those things will kill you?" Xander asked with a grin.

"Nonsense." Gomez snorted, "Best thing for you, lad."

"I think that the American Cancer Society might argue that with you." Xander smirked.

Gomez rolled his eyes, lighting the cigar calmly. "Oh them. Young fools, that bunch. Oh, don't get me wrong lad… You chain smoke, you're asking for health problems. Course, you shovel food into your maw twenty four hours a day and you won't be much better off. Trust me lad, a cigar once in a while is good for you."

"Never really thought about it." Xander shrugged.

"Couple tips, though," Gomez went on, "never smoke American tobacco unless it's naturally grown. Cigarettes are for punks. And always have a glass of brandy at hand, it complements the flavor of the smoke."

Xander blinked, and was about to comment that Gomez didn't have a glass of brandy just then when Thing appeared with a decanter and poured one for him. Gomez smiled, smugly, and dipped the tip of the cigar in the drink before taking another puff.

Xander chuckled, "I'm not ready for that vice just yet, thank you though."

"As you will, lad." Gomez shrugged, dropping into the chair Xander had stabbed earlier and relaxing back with cigar in one hand, brandy in the other. "I don't think it'll be as interesting a holiday for you this time, lad."

Xander sighed, noting the serious shift in Gomez' voice. "Wednesday's pretty focused, isn't she?"

Gomez smiled slightly, a gleam in his eye and he looked over to Xander. "Good lad. Noticed that, did you? It's naught to do with you, she's dealing with some ancient history you might say."

Xander nodded, "If it's a problem, I can go back to Hogwarts for the Hols…"

"Nonsense." Gomez said sharply, "At least not unless you want to. You're fifteen now, lad, and I think you can be trusted to find things to amuse yourself. I just wanted to make certain that you understood, she isn't ignoring you because you did anything wrong."

Xander nodded slowly, "What is she worried about?"

"I think that's best for her to bring up, Alexander." Gomez said, "Just be patient, will you lad?"

Xander nodded with a wry grin, "No worries, sir, I'm not running screaming yet."

"Well, we'll have to see about that," Gomez grinned, "Can't have people thinking we Addams' have lost our touch, you know."

Harry Potter dropped painfully into the soft couch of the Gryffindor common room, his groan drawing a concerned glance from Hermione.

"Are you ok?"

He nodded, "Yeah. Just sore, I've been training and all that."

She nodded, "Have you worked out the egg thing yet?"

Harry glanced around, then reluctantly nodded. "Yeah. I got some help, but it's figured out."

"What is it then?" Hermione had to admit, she was curious.

Harry leaned forward and recited the poem the egg had sung, causing Hermione to stare with wide eyes.

"You know what it means, then?"

"Yeah, they're going to take something valuable from me and I have to get it back." Harry said, "I'm guessing from underwater, so the lake probably."

"Probably," Hermione confirmed. "You have a plan?"

"I've been looking around for some way to breath under water," Harry said, "but honestly it's going to be mostly off the cuff, they're not really going out of their way to give me much information, you know?"

Hermione scowled, but had to admit that he had a point. She sighed, then forced a grin, "Well, you should be right at home at least. You seem to prefer… 'Thinking on the fly'."

Harry rolled his eyes, leaning back on the couch, "I'd be right at home if I could just stay here and read a book that day."

"Well, at least you're still working." Hermione sighed. "If you need any help, just ask… and yes, I'll start looking up water related spells for you."

"Thanks Hermione," Harry said gratefully. "I'd be lost without you, you know that right?"

She smirked at him, "Harry, half the time you're lost WITH me. I do what I can, but I'm only human."

"Oi, I'd be insulted…" Harry griped, then sighed, "if it weren't, you know, true."

Wednesday looked up from her books, nodding silently to Xander as he walked in. He paused briefly, then shrugged and stepped in.

"So what's up?"

She sighed, straightening up and closing her book. "I am researching family history."

"You mind if I ask why?"

"Yes."

Xander nodded slowly, flinching slightly. "Alright, how about if I ask why you mind then?"

"Alexander," Wednesday said slowly, "Some things… are not for others."

"I'm 'others'?" He asked softly as he sat down across from her.

Wednesday just gazed evenly at him until he nodded slowly and sighed.

"Yeah. Alright." Xander said, "You'll let me know if I can help?"

She nodded, and Xander got to his feet and walked out.

She hesitated for a moment, then turned back to her work. A moment later her mother appeared behind her.

"That was harsh."

"This is a family concern, mother."

"And Alexander isn't family," Morticia said simply.

Wednesday shrugged slightly.

"I believe that you may be underestimating him, daughter." Morticia said simply as she turned and slid out of the room.

Wednesday frowned slightly, then shook her head and went back to work.

Paris in winter was a tad dreary, and chilly as hell by Xander's personal standards, but better than Scotland at least. He last a couple more days on the rock with the Addamses, then bolted for the city of lights.

He wasn't pleased about Wednesday's shift in attitude since the ball, honestly he didn't know what the hell was wrong with her. Fine, family business, but crap did she have to spend all her time on it? So now he was wandering around the City of Lights at Christmas, alone.

He was either doing something really wrong, or something really right. Xander honestly wasn't sure which.

Concorde Square was a large space to say the least, but it wasn't terribly hard to locate the large group of teens and young adults that were literally running up, over, under, and in some cases through ever obstacle in sight. Well, it wasn't hard to find them when they were there, of course. He had missed them the first time, and had taken another run through Le Rue just to browse. When he returned a couple hours later, Xander saw that the group was there along with David.

"Good afternoon," he had been greeted with a smile. "Good to see you again."

"Hey." Xander nodded, eyes on the people who were practicing around the area.

"Taking an interest I see," David smiled, "So do you know any French?"

"Some, not much." Xander admitted honestly.

His language skills tended more to Latin and Spanish at the moment, though Xander had been forced to pick up a few bits and bobs of other languages since he began attending Hogwarts. Not that school had much to do with it, but his extracurricular research demanded a certain lingual flexibility.

"Well, you're welcome here," David said with a shrug, "However we don't have a lot of English speakers at the moment, and no Americans at all. You're going to school in Scotland?"

Xander nodded.

"Well, British is close enough." David smiled, nodding to one of the group. "Croft! Come here for a moment."

A teenage girl broke from the group and jogged lightly over, wiping sweat quickly from her face before it could chill her as she slowed down. "What is it, David?"

"Would you mind taking a guest in hand?" He asked, "This one is interested, but doesn't speak much French."

She nodded slowly, eyeing Xander. "If you're sure."

"I know you just started, Lara, but you're progressing quickly." He assured her, "It'll help you along as well."

She nodded, "Very well."

"This is…"

"Xander." Xander spoke up, stepping forward with the little half bow he'd picked up from Narcissa.

Lara's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed as she reevaluated him. "Unusual accent."

"Cali boy," Xander grinned, "born and bred, but I school in Scotland."

"Ah. Private school?" She asked.

"Very."

"I'll leave you two to it, then." David said before taking his leave.

"Do you work out?"

"Constantly," Xander grinned, "Have an Uncle who was in the Navy, he started in on me a few years ago so I keep fit just to keep from being crippled when he gets ahold of me again."

"Navy? A Sailor?"

"Seal." Xander admitted with a shrug.

"Ah." Lara said, eyes widening again. "Well let's warm up, and I'll check you through some of the basic motions."

"Sounds like fun."

The Art of Motion, or Parkour as it was being called, was both exhilarating and terrifying. Xander was totally stunned that non-magical people had actually come up with a sport that made Quidditch seem SANE by comparison.

With Lara's help Xander managed to learn the basics over the run of a week or so, and thanks to his physical training he was able to keep up with her as she pushed herself to extreme's that would have made Harry balk on his broom. Xander wasn't quite as crazy and while he kept up with her, if there was a sane way to move and an insane way, it was a given that he would take the former while Lara took the latter.

The concept was simple enough, though the theory and the practical were worlds apart. The idea was to maintain momentum as much as possible while moving through obstacles, using that stored energy only as needed to get through to the next leg of movement.

Simple vaults and jumps were common, of course, but the landing was carefully taught even for the most basic of movements. Xander learned to keep on the balls of his feet, absorbing impact through his ankles before his heels could impact and drive force up through his legs. After that it all became about balance, knowing when to flex at the knees and when to bend forward into a roll to absorb energy.

As he trained alongside them, Xander saw some truly amazing leaps and feats, including casual jumps from heights in excess of twenty to twenty five feet. He was simply blown away by how easy they made it look, especially Lara who never seemed to miss a chance to practice her art.

He'd been worried that he was holding her back, such was her zeal for the training in fact, but she had brushed that worry off when he suggested that he could get along without her help.

"You'll learn, Xan," She said with an easy smile that belied the ferocity with which she pushed herself, "that sometimes we learn best through teaching. Also, when you're good enough, you'll be expected to show others how to do all of this. That's part of the ideals David and his friends are trying to show us, it's not just about running. It's about being better, better physically, and better mentally."

So he didn't suggest that again, and instead buckled down to try and work as hard as she did while he was there. He couldn't, of course, but he tried. A big part of it was the mindset, however, and that was slowing Xander down even more than the physical aspect.

It was hard to see a building and mentally size up all the ways you could climb it, picking out the fastest and most effective method and implementing it in just a few seconds at most. Still, though he couldn't do it, Xander was constantly blown away by those who could.

Some of the runners he was training with were deeply into flash moves, really just strutting and showing off, but Xander held his admiration for those who focused on speed and efficiency. The moves were often just as INSANE, but always had a purpose, and Xander couldn't help but hope to match their skill someday.

It wouldn't be happening anytime SOON, of course, but he was going to keep practicing on his own. By Christmas, Xander had decided that he was going to replace most of his fitness workout with Parkour running. Other than a little weight work, parkour had his entire workout covered and it could be done all at once in less time while working up another skillset that Xander really, REALLY thought was too damned cool.

Of course, by Christmas, Xander found that he wasn't as enthusiastic about anything as he normally would be. A couple days before he had been so thrown off, that even Lara who barely knew him, had called him on it.

"Alright, Xan, what's going on? You're going to get hurt if you keep going this way." Lara had confronted him, hands on her hips as he picked himself up off the ground from a flubbed Cat Vault that left him sprawled across the Paris cement.

He sighed, flopping over to his back on the cold ground, not noticing the temperature thanks to a discreet warming charm he'd used before arriving.

"Girl troubles." He admitted finally.

"Oh?" Lara smirked down at him, perched on a concrete barrier in a deep crouch that brought her knees up to her breasts as she rested on the balls of her feet. "You didn't mention a girlfriend."

"Not sure she is one." Xander said, "We had one real date, but we've been good friends for years now."

"And when was this date?"

"A little over a week ago."

"Ouch." Lara winced, "Suck that bad?"

"Hell no." Xander grinned, "We killed the dance floor, left everyone else gaping in shock. No, it was a great date I'm pretty sure of that."

"So what's the problem?"

"Wednesday is… scary focused sometimes," Xander said after a hesitation. "And right now, she's so not focused on me or anything to do with me. Wouldn't be so bad, I guess, but I'm staying with her and her folks for the Hols."

Lara winced again, "Uncomfortable I take it?"

"Not so much, her folks are weird but great all the same. They see it too, but know that it's not me. I just feel like we should be doing something more, you know?" Xander asked with a helpless shrug as he lay on the ground.

"Well, I don't know you all that well, or her at all, so I could be all wrong but it seems to me that if she wants space you should probably let her have some." Lara said with a shrug, "and if you can't, well maybe it's not the relationship you need right now."

Xander scowled, but then sighed, "Yeah. Probably right."

"Come on, get up, you've got more work to do."

It was the first year that Christmas with the Addams seemed almost as tense as back home, and Xander hated that in ways he couldn't understand. He was starting to question everything he did, and had done.

He probably should have skipped the ball entirely, he decided. Maybe asked Hermione instead, but try as he might he couldn't find anything wrong with that night. It was frustrating as hell, and he just didn't know what to do about it.

All of that meant that he spent less and less time with the Addams over the holidays, begging off to literally run through Paris or hang around La Rue. This wasn't something that went unnoticed by her hosts, but Gomez and Morticia were at a loss for possibly the first time when it came to their daughter. She had always been unique, of course, that was a proud Addams trait.

Her maturity had mirrored her mother's almost from the moment she could walk, which left the elder couple entirely unprepared for her actions now.

"She's growing up, Gomez darling." Tish sighed with an elegant shrug, "That isn't always a pretty thing."

"True, but I was hoping more for the blood dropping knives and drooling fangs kind of horror," Gomez replied with a shake of his head. "Our little Wednesday turning into an American Teenager is far more horrifying than I ever imagined."

Morticia shuddered, "Thankfully I do not believe she has gone quite that far yet. Still, she may be permanently damaging her relationship with Alexander."

"That would be a shame," Gomez frowned, "The boy has potential."

"Ah, mon coeur, I'm sure things will turn out for the best." Morticia sighed.

Gomez froze and shuddered, "Tish! That's French!"

Wednesday Addams was, at that moment, buried deep in a book that detailed many of the old targets and what had brought them to the attention of the Clan in the first place. Most, actually, had done nothing to the Clan either directly or otherwise. They merely shared certain traits with an item from long before, an item that had been used to enslave hundreds of thousands, including an entire family line of the Clan.

There were certain forms of magic that the Clan simply did NOT tolerate.

Unfortunately, beyond the obvious, these artifacts were well defended. The Goblet was one of the Ancient symbols of the British Monarchy, often mistake in legend for the Holy Grail. Such items were always protected with magical warding that bordered on fanatical. Circumventing such defenses was likely well beyond her current capability, but Wednesday knew that when the tournament was finished the Goblet would be returned to wherever it had been hidden for all these centuries and the opportunity would be lost.

There MUST be a way.

Gaining access to the Cup while it was still at Hogwarts would be relatively easy, however bypassing the warded defenses that were intended to prevent a foreign power from doing precisely what Wednesday wanted to do or, of course, steal it for themselves was a far different story.

It was infuriating, she quickly found, and worse than that it was one area where her immediate family had little skill with which to provide aid. Her parents, while formidable in their own right, were not experts on magical warding. Uncle Fester's answer was one she could already hear him saying. Explosives, Wednesday, lots and lots of explosives.

While that approach may work, however, it wasn't guaranteed and Wednesday suspected that the level of force required to overpower the wards would likely bring down a large chunk of the school onto children who had done nothing to warrant that level of destruction.

Grandmamma was a potions mistress, not a warding expert, and Itt had spent most of his time dabbling in non-magical intelligence work. If the device was protected by the latest technological systems he would be perfect, but ancient wards were something that had long since fallen out of favor in the Family.

It was so frustrating.

Christmas day came and went, and Xander found himself again roving through Paris with a band of what most people would probably call delinquents. He did enjoy it, however, though even as the end of the holidays came into sight he knew that he had a LONG way to go before he was proficient in the majority of the basic moves used in Parkour.

What was most important, however, was that it was great exercise and a lot of fun. He also had to confess to already be thinking about what he could do at Hogwarts with Parkour and the moving staircases.

He was especially thankful for Lara's patience with him, because despite what she said he felt like he was holding her back in their runs. She just blew past him without trying, and it kinda made him feel like dueling Harry only here he couldn't figure out how to cheat.

' How exactly do you palm an ace when your opponent is gravity anyway? ' Xander thought with a grin as he thief vaulted over a stone wall and landed running on the other side, eyes on Lara as the slightly older girl led the pack.

That proved to be a mistake, since today Lara was wearing much less clothing than normal and his focus on her backside proved his undoing when he ran into another wall, and proceeded to hook his toes in the middle of his attempt at a cat vault, which pitched him face first into the ground in a painful sprawl that left those coming behind him laughing as they checked to make sure he hadn't broken anything.

"Je suis correcte." He groaned, rolling over and waving them off. "Merci."

The grinning faces retreated as Xander got back to his feet and pushed the image of Lara's backside from his mind before he started running again.

Harry sighed as he grabbed a towel and dried the sweat from his face. His workouts were going well, and life in Hogwarts was decent, but the tri wizard stuff was worrying him.

' What is my most prized possession? ' He wondered, nerves about the upcoming task riding high. He didn't know what to think about the mermish song, but he knew that he didn't like the sound of it. In the normal world no one would just steal something and not give it back for this sort of thing, but in the normal world he couldn't be forced to compete in the first place now could he?

He didn't own much, in fact he owned so little that taking something of his was almost a joke. A joke until he thought about Hedwig, or his Mom's Coven journal, his dad's map… his family cloak. He owned so few things that almost everything he did have held major significance to him and Harry didn't want to lose any of them.

He tossed the towel aside and walked over to the pedestal the room had provided, flipping the book inside open to the Bubble head charm and running through the motions again. He had got together with Hermione, Neville, and oddly enough Dobby to maximize his chances on any sort of water task.

Dobby had stolen some gillyweed, from Snape Harry could only presume though he wasn't asking, on Neville's suggestion while Harry and Hermione researched water based magic. There were very few offensive spells that worked underwater, Harry now knew, so he hoped there wouldn't be too much fighting involved in whatever it was.

That wasn't to say that there were none, a few of the more common dueling spells functioned after a fashion, but they tended to react oddly. You didn't use electrical based attacks, for one thing, particularly in salt water. A bit obvious, Harry supposed, but the heads-up in the texts was appreciated all the same.

Similarly ice and cold based spells were dangerous, while fire based spells were mostly ineffective. That actually affected more spells than he had realized before he started researching things. Many more spells tapped the fire element than he would have believed, since the entire element was weak under water not just straight up flames.

Fiendfyre was an exception, he had also learned, though Harry had no intention of using that particular dark spell. He wasn't sure how or why, but it was noted to burn quite explosively when cast under water. Ironically it was noted that Fiendfyre was actually HARDER to control under water than in open air.

Magic was weird.

Still, he had a decent selection of spells that should serve him while he was underwater.

Now if only he could figure out how to SWIM.

Sirius Black was bored.

This was not a state of mind conducive to the well-being of those around him, as a general rule, however at the moment he was too bored to bother with pranks and that kinda scared him.

He'd finished the work on the motorbike a while back, kept in touch with Cissy, Andy, and Harry, even kept up an on again off again relationship with Amelia, though he was occasionally insulted that the silly bint thought he was quite so dense as she apparently did.

Birth control spells, undetectable ones, were something every scion of the Black Family learned at an early age. Trapping people into marriages was something that happened to other families, not to the Blacks.

Still, she was a minx in the sack and it was funny as hell to watch as she kept trying to figure out why she wasn't pregnant yet. He did have to wonder, idly, what her game was. He doubted Cissy would have sent her, that wasn't his cousin's style. More likely Narcissa would have presented him with a list of potential matches and a schedule to fill in the blanks with however many names he happened to choose.

No, this was something else. A minor family, maybe, Sirius supposed or perhaps a muggle-born looking to marry up. It didn't really matter, he wasn't going to bend over for any upstart who thought they could trick a child out of him.

Still, that left him where he was. Bored.

He hoped for the summer to come quicker, though he wasn't sure how he would be able to manage a visit with Harry. He had to somehow, though.

' Cissy got him out of the country once, ' He thought, though he had chills on just how easily that had been accomplished. Honestly, that boy trusted people too easily. To actually leave the COUNTRY in the company of two Malfoys and an American Slytherin?

It was like all the worst qualities of Lily, and her eternal open honesty and trust, and James with all his reckless bravado wrapped into one.

Sirius sighed, shaking his head as he wondered what he was going to do with his Godson.

Bored, Bored, Bored.

The Holidays swept by, even with the tensions at the 'Chateau' the Addamses had been experiencing, and shortly it was time for them to end their 'vacation' and return whence they came. Xander bade a pretty fond farewell to his running group, even scoring a hug and a peck on the cheek from Lara, while the Addams cleared out the old fort in efficient fashion.

And, thus, on the last day before school started up again, Xander and Wednesday found themselves seated back on the Express and heading north to Scotland.