Hey all! Welcome to "The Crescent," first in The Addams Adventures and my very first Harry Potter fanfiction! This story is a revision of the book Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (yes, the book) featuring my OC, Erica Addams, and her life and adventures at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This story will eventually have romance, but the pairing will be kept secret for now ;) Feel free to guess!
Each chapter in this story will correspond to a chapter from the book, with original content sprinkled here and there.
My OC is Erica Addams. Usually this is where I would describe her, but I shall keep it to a minimum for now. Erica is the Muggleborn daughter of a single mother. She has long, messy brown curls, bright brown eyes, and cute dimples. She is a fan of leggings, Converse sneakers, and oversized sweaters, and long-sleeved shirts. She likes to bake, draw, and read. More of Erica will be revealed in this story (particularly this first chapter), but I do not wish to give it all away in the intro.
"italics" is used for spells and incantations
~)8(~ is a scene break
This story will be told in 3rd person, but will more often than not focus on Erica and Harry.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
They're creepy and they're kooky,
Mysterious and spooky,
They're altogether ooky,
The Addams Family.
Their house is a museum
Where people come to see 'em.
They really are a scream,
The Addams Family.
So put a witch's shawl on,
A broomstick you can crawl on,
We're gonna pay a call on,
The Addams Family.
The Addams Family theme song
Chapter 1: The Addams Family
Omaha, Nebraska, United States of America could be downright miserable in the summer. More days than not, it was humid and sweltering, and few dared to venture out of the safety of their air conditioning. One early July morning found the sun beating down on the city. It was a Saturday, so many houses were quieter through the morning as people slept in and didn't rush out the door to work. One house was no exception to this. The home was small, and perfectly homely. The lawn was green and blooming, the windows sparkled in the sun rays, and a bicycle sat outside the one-car garage. The pale yellow shutters were open, and the brick and white wood structure was perfect for the family of two inside it.
Melissa Addams was a young, but often tired woman. She was the owner of a successful local bakery and her creations were as important to her as her family. She had a certain gift with breads and pastries, her honey wheat loaves flying off the shelves as fast as croissants and breakfast danishes. She was on the shorter side — the very short side — and her brown curls were rarely seen in anything but a ponytail. Her warm eyes were doe-like and as brown as the chocolate chips she put in her cookies. Her smile was cutely dimpled, and anyone who saw her would agree that she was a beautiful woman. However, there seemed to be permanent circles under her eyes, and within the last year, the sag in her shoulders had become more prominent. A weariness seemed to cling to her. Her job was a demanding one, requiring her to come in during the middle of the night to begin baking in time for opening, and requiring her to stay until after closing, when everything had been prepared for the next day of business. However, despite how demanding it was, Melissa cherished her work, and cherished her daughter even more.
Twelve-year-old Erica was the light of Melissa's life. She resembled her mother greatly, with even messier brown curls and even warmer brown eyes. Her dimples were impishly cute, and she, like her mother, found herself quite vertically challenged. Her skin was tanned from spending her days outside in the sunshine and by the poolside. And while a bit accident-prone, Erica seemed like just another young American girl.
Erica was known in the neighborhood as one of the brightest, happiest girls around. She made friends easily, and she soaked up knowledge and lessons like a sponge. And Erica had been one of the happiest girls around. She had friends, the best mother ever, a good school. A special school. Food, a warm bed, a roof over her head. She had everything she could possibly need or want. But something happened. When Erica had come back home from her special school in the summer, everyone could see it. There had been rumors of a car accident, of a friend's death, of simple, overwhelming homesickness, but no one could truly say they knew what happened. All they knew was that Erica left for school bouncing with excitement, and then came home looking meek and forlorn. And it didn't help that her once flawless face was now slightly marred by a scar of some kind.
Erica seemed to recover, returning to the happy, bright girl everyone in the neighborhood loved to say "good morning" to. But there was undeniably something changed about Erica. None of them could put their finger on it.
On the morning of Saturday, July 6, the Addams household was quiet save for quiet radio music and the slight sizzling of bacon on the stove. Erica was in her bedroom, stubbornly refusing to move out from beneath the comforter. She was quite enjoying the warmth of the sunbeam entering through her window. But a lazy glance at her alarm clock told her it was nearing ten in the morning, meaning her mother was going to drag her out of bed sooner or later.
Erica's ears perked when she heard footsteps. Sooner it was.
"Erica, sweetie?" Melissa called with a light tap on the girl's bedroom door.
"Yes, Mom?" Erica nearly groaned. Melissa opened the door and grinned fondly at her daughter.
"Breakfast is ready."
Melissa knew her daughter too well. One of the only things that could make Erica move was the promise of food.
"Coming."
Erica yawned hugely as soon as her mom left, and then emitted a groan that bordered on dramatic. Her hair was a mess to be proud of and there were sheet impressions on her arm. Erica blinked the fuzziness away and forcibly removed herself from the comfort of her comforter. Still half-asleep, she pulled on some clothes and trudged to the bathroom to splash some water on her face. Once she felt more awake, she padded down the hall to the kitchen.
Erica could smell her mom's cooking from her bedroom. And it never failed to make her mouth water. While baking was Melissa's passion, she was also an excellent cook, and well, Erica loved her mom's maple crusted bacon. If her nose was correct, there were eggs and apple juice with that bacon.
Melissa was highly amused as her daughter came into the kitchen. She was rubbing her eyes sleepily, her hair falling over her shoulders in a stupendous mess. Fuzzy socks adorned her feet, looking a little odd with the jean shorts and T-shirt, but Erica loved her fuzzy socks.
"Hungry?" Melissa asked as Erica plopped into a chair at the table.
"Starving," Erica mumbled. Then, she began to wolf down her breakfast, barely pausing to thank her mom before continuing.
Melissa had to cringe a little as her daughter ate. The girl was practically a vacuum with how fast she was consuming the food. Not to mention her truly impressive appetite meant Erica was eating double what she used to.
Melissa hated to ruin her daughter's mood, but there was something she needed to see. Melissa plucked an envelope off the kitchen counter and sat down beside her daughter. Melissa didn't need to say anything. Erica knew what the envelope was the second she spotted it. Erica averted her eyes and occupied herself by shoving more bacon in her mouth.
"You don't have to open it if you don't want to," Melissa soothed. She knew just how hard, how agonizing this was for her daughter.
"No, I should get it over with," Erica sighed. "If I leave it for later, I'll drive myself crazy."
Melissa also knew that. So she silently handed over the letter.
The paper was thick. Erica's name and address were inscribed on the front in cranberry-colored ink. On the back was a blue wax seal, a coat of arms pressed into it. Erica sucked in a breath. She then slid a finger under the flap and broke the seal. Her report card from school was as expected.
"How'd you do?" Melissa inquired, watching her daughter's expression shift into something too bitter for a twelve-year-old.
"Perfect." Her tone was riddled with resentment, surprising again, for a girl so young with such a stunning report card.
"Let me see." Wordlessly, Erica passed the report to her mom. "Erica, this is really good," Melissa said. "You did so well."
"Well, it doesn't matter now, does it?" Erica shot back. Immediately, both mother and daughter recoiled. Erica felt horrible. "I'm sorry, Mom. Really, I am."
"I know, sweetheart." Melissa squeezed her daughter's hand. She hated to see Erica so upset, but she knew Erica had every reason to be, and quite honestly, Melissa understood the anger.
Erica's school was not going to let her return for the next term. Or ever. Her exemplary grades and record didn't matter. Erica was never going back.
"It's not fair," Erica whispered, so low Melissa almost didn't hear the crack in her voice. Erica pursed her lips in an attempt not to cry.
Melissa agreed. It really wasn't fair. Not at all. But she knew that talking about it more would only further upset Erica, and seeing her daughter upset was the last thing Melissa ever wanted. So she squeezed her hand again and changed the subject.
"More food?" Erica accepted with a nod. Melissa smiled, her daughter's appetite never failing to amuse her, and moved to plate her more eggs and bacon.
The doorbell rang. Both Melissa and Erica looked towards the door, confused. Neither of them were expecting visitors.
"I'll get it," Erica said, moving to the front door. When she pulled it open, she was stunned to see who was standing there.
An old man. He was dressed, strangely, in robes of light blue. His robes matched his eyes, which twinkled behind half-moon spectacles. His nose was long and crooked. His smile was light and friendly. His hair was long and white. He had a long, white beard to go with it, one so long that it could be tucked into his belt.
A woman was standing behind him. She seemed to be the eccentric man's complete opposite. She had a severe expression and black hair pulled into an equally severe bun. She wore glasses as well, but they were square. Her robes were a deep green. Almost every single thing about the woman intimidated Erica and she couldn't hold eye contact for more than a second.
"Can I help you?" Erica asked, looking back to the eccentric man.
"Hmm, I rather hope so," he said, confusing Erica a little. She noticed that he spoke with a strange lilt that sounded English. "Are you Miss Erica Addams?"
"I am. And who are you?"
"My name is Albus Dumbledore," he said, "and this is Minerva McGonagall. We hoped to speak to you about a schooling option."
Erica's face paled a bit. "I haven't applied to any schools."
Albus Dumbledore seemed perfectly unbothered by this fact.
"May we come in, Miss Addams?" Minerva McGonagall asked. Erica nodded and opened the door wider for them, not looking the woman in the eyes. If these people were who she thought they were, they were wasting their time. There was no way they'd let someone like her attend their school. But that was no reason to not let them in. It was hot outside.
"Mom!" Erica called toward the kitchen. "There's some people here about school!" She turned back to the man and woman. "Come on, my mom is in the kitchen."
"Hello," Melissa greeted when they entered the kitchen. "You're here from Erica's school?"
"Well, no, Ms. Addams," Minerva McGonagall said while Erica plopped back down in her seat. Albus Dumbledore looked around their kitchen with strange fascination.
As Minerva McGonagall spoke, Melissa had to raise an eyebrow at both the response and the British accent. "Professor Dumbledore and I are here to offer Erica another option for school."
"Oh?" Melissa asked. "Well, we might as well get comfortable. Can I get you anything? Coffee, lemonade, tea?"
"Tea, please," Minerva McGonagall accepted. She then moved to sit across from Erica. The girl munched on her bacon while dutifully avoiding the woman's stern gaze.
"Miss Addams?" Professor Dumbledore asked, jolting the girl from her mindlessness. He held her report card in his hand. "May I?" Erica nodded, and Professor Dumbledore unfolded the parchment. A positively delighted smile grew on his face before he passed the report to Professor McGonagall. To Erica's surprise, the woman looked pleased with her grades, and a small smile grew on her face, making her look much less severe than before.
"Your grades are impressive, Miss Addams," Professor McGonagall complimented, further surprising the girl. Erica swallowed and managed to make eye contact with her.
"Thank you," she mumbled, still quite intimidated. Melissa chose that time to arrive with some tea and scones.
"So, Professors, what can we do for you?" Melissa asked, taking a seat next to Erica. Professor Dumbledore sat down as well before speaking.
"Ms. Addams, I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am here because I have been made aware of Erica's situation. I would like to offer her a place at Hogwarts."
Erica stared wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the man. He knew? He knew about her… her… affliction? And he still wanted her to come study at his school?
Who was this man? He was completely insane!
"You mean…" Melissa whispered. "You know about Erica?" Both professors nodded, with serious, but kind looks on their faces.
"We understand her situation, and we have had students with the same situation before." Erica's head snapped to Professor Dumbledore when he said this.
"You mean…" she stumbled. "You've had… people like me… in your school?"
Professor Dumbledore smiled gently at the girl before patting her hand.
"Yes, Erica. And we would like to extend an invitation to come study with us at Hogwarts."
Erica honestly didn't know what to say. She'd recently finished her first year of studies at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She'd been in Horned Serpent, the house that represented the mind of a witch or wizard. She'd enjoyed school immensely. But when she'd had her accident… the school contacted her and her mother, telling them that Erica could no longer attend. Erica had been heartbroken. She'd thought her magical career had come to an end before it really even began. Then she became bitter, which was why she'd snapped at her mom a little earlier. It was an accident. It wasn't Erica's fault she was… she was…
"Where is Hogwarts?" Melissa asked, seeing as Erica had gone silent.
"The school itself is located in Scotland," Professor McGonagall said. "Erica would be allowed to come home for the Christmas and summer holidays, and maybe even the Easter holidays if she so desired."
"Scotland?" Melissa gasped. She shouldn't have been surprised. The two people before her were obviously not American, but she had barely been able to stand sending Erica to the east coast to Ilvermorny. But all the way to Europe… It didn't sit right with Melissa. What if something happened? What if Erica needed her?
"Mom?" Erica spoke up quietly, as if reading her mom's thoughts. "I won't go if you don't want me to."
Melissa immediately shook her head.
"Sweetheart, I want you to go. Of course, I do. I would never keep you from attending Hogwarts if you want to. I'll just miss you, is all." Erica smiled, reassured, but the expression soon fell, and she turned to Professor Dumbledore.
"What do I have to do in order to attend?" she asked.
Professor Dumbledore smiled, perhaps a little grimly. "Professor McGonagall and I were thinking it would be best for you to spend this year at home, err… acclimatizing to your new condition. And then, next year, you could start your education all over again with the incoming first years."
Erica frowned. "Won't that mean I'll be two, even three years older than everyone else in my year?" she asked.
"Yes," Professor McGonagall said, "but we don't want you to feel like your age will be an issue. It will not be."
Erica nodded. "So, I'd start next September?" Again, the two professors nodded. "Can I think about it?"
"Of course," Professor Dumbledore answered. "Whenever you come to a decision, you may send me an owl at Hogwarts." Erica nodded. The two professors stood and Melissa moved to walk them out, Erica following.
"Professors?" Erica asked right before they left. They both turned back to the girl. She was looking flustered. "Could you — I mean —" Erica groaned at her awkwardness. "Would it be too much to ask who the previous students like me were?" The professors looked surprised at her question, so she hurried to explain. "I'd just like to write them a letter and ask what school was like for them with this condition."
To Erica's surprise, Professor McGonagall's eyes softened a considerable amount, and she withdrew a quill and scrap of parchment from her robes.
"His name is Remus Lupin," she told Erica. "He was a wonderful student, and he is a wonderful man, kind and understanding."
Erica got the feeling that this Remus Lupin, at one point in time, had been one of Professor McGonagall's favorite students.
"He would be happy to answer your questions should you decide to ask them," Professor Dumbledore said. Erica nodded, and for the first time, looked both the professors in the eyes, thanking them profusely. With that, the British wizards left.
Erica glanced down at the man's name and address. Remus Lupin. What was it like for Remus Lupin to attend Hogwarts? Surely not easy. Nothing in life was easy when you were a werewolf.
Well, what do you think? Let me know if you'd like to see more!
Sammiemoosam
