Herido and his friends left the Slytherin common room at a quarter to midnight. It was just the five of them. Everyone agreed that five students wandering around at night was a big enough target and there was no need to add the two brick walls that were Crabbe and Goyle into the mix.
After dinner Heri had declared, quite out of the blue, that he'd received a care package and was going out tonight for a picnic. Eventually everyone had agreed to go along, although Hermione was adamant she was only there to keep them quiet and undiscovered.
"Tell me again why you think midnight is an acceptable time for a picnic. In October no less!" Daphne cried as she pulled her two thick velvet robes tighter. She looks rather comical in Heri's opinion and at least twice her size.
"Oh, I just feel I haven't been able to appreciate the night since I got here. A little moonlight is good for you."
"But pneumonia isn't!" Daphne gripped, pulling her scarf tighter with every step closer to the doors. Heri just smiled. He didn't think she'd appreciate him pointing out some of the pleasant side effects of having difficulty breathing and the interesting things a lack of oxygen does to the brain. The hallucinations alone were worth any pesky risk of permanent damage.
They had almost made it to the front doors when they heard the gruff voice of Filch talking to his cat. Heri broke into a grin. He hadn't yet had chance to spend any quality time with the caretaker. Two professors had turned up to supervise his detention with the man; apparently they were concerned about leaving a squib with Herido. To be fair to the faculty, they were right to be worried.
Maybe now he could have some fun.
Heri didn't notice his friends hurriedly leaving the entrance hall until he felt the steel grip of Hermione grab his wrist, attempting to drag him away and out of slight.
"Wait. We should make the most of…" She glared at him with an intensity that made him wonder, not for the first time, whether she'd been taking lessons from Wednesday.
"Herido Addams I agreed to go along with this midnight picnic madness, but if you get me expelled then powerful wizard or not I will skin you alive!" For a moment he absolutely believed her. "Even if I die in the process!" She radiated conviction and he acquiesced to being dragged along after the others. He didn't want to discourage her after all.
With every step into the castle, Heri felt his annoyance grow. They had all run quite a distance from the doors, but had still been discovered by Peeves, who threatened to report them until Heri in turn threatened to bury the ghost where no one would be able to hear him screaming. Soon after, Peeves agreed to distract Filch so the children could wander at leisure.
Somehow they had ended up near Gryffindor tower and so Heri decided he might as well make the most of what might otherwise be a wasted night, and find a way into the common room. He wouldn't mind exploring the place in which his birth parents had grown and become the people they had. He'd often imagined them walking through the halls, eating together at the Gryffindor table and dreaming of a future they would ultimately sacrifice to war. For all his confidence and self-assurance, James and Lily Potter were a weakness; he was a dark, sadistic being with a sense of superiority and he was completely comfortable with that, but somewhere in his heart, a place deep and secret and hidden, he mourned that he knew those bright young Gryffindors would be devastated with how their son had turned out. Disappointed. That word filled him with an ugly, unpleasant feeling that was worse than any pain.
Heri scowled and clenched his fists – finger nails biting into his palms – in an attempt to shut down those thoughts. It didn't do to dwell on the past, and he felt overwhelmed with good fortune and gratefulness for his family and life as it was now.
He barely felt the feather light touch on his shoulder when he spun round. Within a second he had bound the Longbottom boy's arms with his magic, one hand was fisted in his hair, pulling the boy's head back at an unnatural and surely painful angle and was aiming a kunai mere millimetres from his right eye.
He was fairly outraged with himself that he'd been so wrapped up in his thoughts he hadn't sensed Neville coming up behind him.
"Ahhh!" Was the predictable reaction from Neville. After a second of frozen shock, he started to struggle desperately and Heri released him, pushing him away slightly as he did. He regarded the boy with narrowed eyes. His former thoughts had already put him in a dark mood and now he was frustrated with himself too. He clenched and unclenched a fist.
"I-I-I…" Neville started stammering but was swiftly cut off by the back of Heri's hand connecting sharply with his cheek. Everyone in the hallway froze. They'd never seen him raise a hand to anyone before, and only Hermione had ever seen him physically hurt someone, but not someone as harmless as Neville Longbottom. Most students were cowed by the rumours and mere suggestion of his dark background and the few that had been 'attacked' by him had been so in a way that just created more mystery. There was nothing as direct as this.
Heri took a steadying breath.
"Neville," he began, drawing the rapt attention of everyone present, "Two things: never, ever, sneak up on me; and when someone is holding a blade to your eye, its best to stay as still as possible – you're lucky I have such precise control or you'd now have one eye less!" His voice was carefully measured and set everyone's nerves on edge.
Neville was like a rabbit in headlights, unable to look away from that frustrated gleam in Addams' eyes as he stood hunched over and held his quickly bruising cheek.
"What are you doing out here?" Heri asked.
"I-I-I'm locked out. The Fat Lady isn't in her p-portrait." Heri managed to contain the sigh this time as he contemplated just how hopeless this boy was. He continued to observe him, making Neville squirm under the scrutiny. Maybe he wasn't hopeless…
"Daphne," He spoke softly to the girl, but never turned his eyes away. Daphne felt heavy all of a sudden. She'd started to get used to the Addams boy's dark aura and sense of humour, but she was now reminded how uncomfortable he could make her feel with such little effort. "Neville is the Heir of an old and respected family – a fellow member of the Sacred Twenty Eight, if I'm not mistaken; do you see any of that in him?" Well, that was a subject she was comfortable with!
"No." Neville seemed to shrink even more at the harsh and unyielding judgement. "He displays none of the pride, class or prosperity that are his by birth right!" She'd been asked her opinion and she certainly wasn't afraid to give it, especially on a subject on which she was an authority. "He should be ashamed to be such a poor representative of his family." As she finished she raised her chin, as if to emphasise her conviction.
Hermione looked appalled at what was happening to the meek boy, who now looked like he was about to burst into tears. She made a move to intervene when Draco stopped her with a strong arm and frown. He shook his head and motioned back to the unfolding scene. It seemed to her that all the Pure-Bloods were in agreement here.
Heri turned briefly to smile at Daphne. "I quite agree." Once he turned back, Neville took a step back at the intensity in his eyes. "Stand up straight!" He commanded and Neville obeyed reflexively. "Daphne's right. You present a pathetic image. You are Heir to House Longbottom – for all intents and purposes you are the Head of your House! Do you not feel any pride in that?" At the accusation Neville's face hardened and Heri smiled in response.
"Of course I'm proud! You could never know how much!" It was the first time any of the Slytherins had heard him speak without stuttering.
"Then why don't you stand tall? Why do you allow people without such an esteemed heritage to trample on that pride?" Neville seemed to react to every intonation of Heri's words. He did indeed stand taller, he squared his shoulders, lifted his chin and maintained eye contact with a confidence that, even if it was only temporary, the other Pure-Bloods could respect.
Heri considered the boy for a moment more.
"Take off your robe!" Again the commanding tone that belied his age. He watched in exasperation as Neville started to shrink again, but this time it was tempered by his pride as it warred within his mind. Heri took out his wand. He'd found that just holding a wand could provoke a reaction, usually fear. At this point in his education he could probably do more with a wave of his hand than he could with his wand, but these wizards and witches only knew of wand magic and so never found a raised hand particularly threatening. He was mollified to see Neville's eyes widen in fearful anticipation as he used his wand to lift the boy's chin once more.
"You're hiding behind your robe. Take it off!" His tone left absolutely no room for argument, and the poor boy struggled to comply whilst maintaining a shred of dignity. Heri circled him slowly and as soon as he saw him start to hunch into himself once again, he produced a whip from his wand and brought it down hard against Neville's lower back. "Stand up straight!" He repeated after the yelp. He knew that would leave a nasty mark. Heri didn't give warnings. That was probably something he should work on.
All this gave the desired effect though. The Longbottom Heir looked like a different person. Even though it was under the threat of pain, he stood proud and still had that look of defiance in his eyes from Heri's earlier accusation. It didn't matter to anyone present that they were still children: the Pure-Bloods would always delight in seeing someone embrace their heritage; Neville was revelling in the sudden feeling of acceptance he felt from the refined, influential students and Hermione was just pleased to see him looking stronger.
Neville took a breath and gave Heri a cautious, inquisitive glance.
"What do you want from me?"
The silence around them was deafening.
"Your soul." He replied, his voice quiet in the tense darkness. Neville's eyes bugged in his head and he actually heard gasps from the others. He let out a noise that he would deny under torture was a snort and smiled kindly. "I'm kidding! I just couldn't resist; everyone seemed so serious." He said by way of explanation. The boy relaxed a little, but didn't quite believe Heri was joking. Heri just rolled his eyes. "I want you to achieve your potential and not to be confined by ridiculous prejudice. I want you to believe in yourself and be great" He saw the protests bubbling to the surface, but was saved having to listen to them by a small, sarcastic applause.
"It's about time you showed some backbone, Neville!" Came one cheeky voice, followed immediately by another, identical to the first.
"Heir Longbottom, indeed!" Heri turned with a grin to match those worn by the Weasley twins.
"I wondered if you were going to show yourselves."
"Of course!"
"We were just enjoying the show!"
"Although we think you could have gone further with the whip." The twins jumped quickly away from the whip that cracked lazily in their direction. "Though it was expertly wielded." They added with a carefree joviality that dispersed any tension in the hall. Heri smiled at them as he heard the others laugh at the antics – even Neville.
"If you're done giving lessons in dignity," Started… Heri was 80% sure it was Fred.
"Anybody care to guess what we found…" Continued… George?
"Hidden away..."
"Fierce and snarling..."
"And probably lonely…"
"Locked up…"
"Probably bored to tears..."
"Along the third floor right side corridor?"
Well, Herido was definitely intrigued.
"So what's being hidden on the third floor?" Heri tired. It wasn't at all tactful to ask outright, but if he wanted answers he was more likely to get them from Quirrell than anyone else.
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Mr Addams." The teacher replied in an overly proper way.
"Of course not, Professor." Heri could play this game. "But if there was something hidden there – something guarded by the most adorable three headed dog, what Hermione assures me is Devil's Snare and I imagine a few more ridiculous traps, no doubt intended to slow an intruder down… if there was something, what would it be?" The professor smiled at the child and wondered what he should say, if anything. He worried that if he told the boy about the Stone, he'd want to take it for himself and that would ruin his Master's plans.
"Well, what do you know of Nicolas Flamel?" Heri's reply was instant:
"An interesting man. Brilliant scribe. Father invited him to teach us alchemy, but asked him to leave when he started spouting some rather disturbing views on immortality. It was a shame really. He was actually very knowledgeable." He looked off wistfully and Quirrell looked on in wonder. Nicolas Flamel, the legend, had been recruited to teach the Addams children personally… and let go? It must be true that you just don't refuse an Addams…
"Yes, well," Quirrell tried to recover. Oh, how he'd love to get to know the elder Addams'! "You're a Slytherin. Surely you know that you don't get something for nothing?" He was mostly trying to buy time to think. He had thought it might take the boy a while to research Flamel. Heri just smiled at him knowingly.
"What do you want to know?" Well there were many things he'd been told to find out. He decided to start with something that would seem like natural inquisitiveness.
"What did you do to Flint?"
"I didn't touch him. How is old Marcus, by the way?" He asked with amusement that thoroughly jarred against the subject being discussed.
"He's doing better." At Heri's 'go-on' gesture, he expanded, seeing no harm in it "He was moved to the Psychology Ward almost five weeks ago, but is expected to return to school very soon."
"That's good." Heri nodded, sounding not at all sincere and looking rather pleased with himself.
"Well?" Quirrell pushed.
Heri narrowed his eyes at the wall in contemplation. Was he really willing to risk himself so carelessly? Quirrell saw the cogs turning and sought to put the boy at ease.
"You know of my… connection to The Dark Lord. I cannot use anything you tell me to hurt you." He still wasn't convinced, so Quirrell continued. "And I'm not exactly looking to antagonise your parents in such an obvious way."
Well, Heri felt better at hearing that. It was something he was used to and knew it was fact – this man really didn't want to cross his family, so once again his family's reputation would keep him safe.
"Ok," He started, "I merely… corrected… certain ideas Flint had. To do so I took control of his conscious mind. But I truly never laid a hand on him." Quirrell leaned forward in interest.
"How?" He pushed, but Heri shook his head.
"Quid pro quo, Professor." The quote was obviously wasted on the wizard, but he understood the phrase at least and learned back.
"Ok," He took a deep breath, making a silent prayer that this wouldn't backfire. "Rumour is that someone is out to steal something belonging to the aged alchemist; Dumbledore is trying to keep that item safe here at Hogwarts." Heri thought on this for a moment. He came up blank. He'd have to set Hermione on this. If it was interesting enough he might venture down past the tame (at least he thought so) Devil's Snare.
During breakfast less than a week later, the morning gossip was proved true as Marcus Flint entered the Great Hall.
It seemed to the teachers that every student present was holding themselves back from accosting the boy with questions. Everyone but Herido Addams, and curiously, Hermione Granger, who continued to have their breakfast between pleasant conversation.
Flint shrank into himself a little with every step he took closer to the Slytherin table. He was greeted kindly by his friends and teammates and returned the pleasantries naturally enough, but paused before the table and looked to Heri with an unsure submissiveness that no one had seem him wear before and added weight to the theory that the Addams boy had done something to him.
Heri only spared his upperclassman the briefest of overtly smug smiles before looking meaningfully to Hermione and then returning to his food.
Flint shifted his gaze to the muggleborn first year and the school watched on with bated breath as the scene unfolded. Nobody really understood what was going on, but everyone was shocked to see the previously arrogant Pure-Blood showing deference to an eleven year old muggleborn.
Hermione considered Flint for moment. She was enjoying this much more than she ever thought she would, but she'd stopped questioning these questionable tendencies she was developing and let him squirm a little. Eventually she smiled.
"Welcome back, Marcus." She sounded friendly, but nobody missed that malevolent look in her eye. Flint let out a shaky breath of relief.
"Thank you, Miss Granger." He was oddly quiet as he spoke, but afterwards took his seat and it only took a few minutes until he was comfortably chatting away with his friends once more.
All the teachers wore almost identical frowns. They didn't know what to make of the Granger girl anymore. There was obviously more to her than the perfect student they'd come to know. Quirrell didn't like it at all.
Draco glanced discreetly across to Pansy. Daphne had shared with the Pure-Blood boys that the dynamic within the girls' dorm hadn't much improved since the start of school. Draco and Blaise had been able to carve a strained but relatively stable relationship with their fellow Slytherins. They of course had the advantage of their family names and previous friendships with many of the students, but they were also respected for being able to get close to Addams, who kept most people at a polite distance. However, Heri was a controversial and divisive figure and those that still resented the boy's arrogance and somewhat liberal opinions directed their frustrations at his two friends. They were all far too unsure about Heri to challenge him directly, especially after the Flint incident.
Pansy was widely regarded as a fool, but she was analysing the situation as much as anyone else. She clearly didn't like the way Flint reacted to Granger. Draco was confused as to what Hermione could possibly be playing at. It was obvious that Herido was helping or even teaching her Dark Arts, so why wasn't she doing anything about the Slytherin girls?
Draco was getting a little fed up with the favouritism Herido showed the Granger girl. She'd even taken to drinking that strange smoking beverage that he was so found of.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sharp scraping sound that could only come from someone rising too quickly from their chair.
As one, the whole student population turned in mild surprise to see the Headmaster standing at his place at the head table, looking a little shocked himself. Following his line of sight the rest of the hall could see why. Heri smiled as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin and rose to greet his parents, who were standing in the doorway taking in the grand room.
Albus was disturbed, though he fought to keep it from showing. The castle's wards hadn't even given the slightest indication that they were being breached – and by such dark wizards too! He could only imagine what these people could be capable of if they'd come with ill intentions. He cringed as he suddenly realised why they were here.
"Darling!" Morticia cried with flourish as she reached the Slytherin table, taking Herido at arm's length and looking at him with such intensity that those around wondered if she was actually assessing his soul.
"Son!" Gomez brought down a heavy hand on his shoulder. "This castle really is something to see!" He leaned in to whisper, "although the people are a little odd, no?" He gave a pointed look around at the students who were all staring. Heri laughed and nodded. Yes, yes they were!
"Mother, Father." Heri greeted with obvious affection. "You remember Hermione?" He started. Morticia gave a warm smile, but her wide, knowing eyes were unnerving.
"Of course, dear! Hermione, I brought you a cutting from Cleopatra. She took to you so well when you visited that I thought she would surely approve of you taking her baby." Hermione greeted the adults and accepted the potted vine with a blush and thanks. Heri then introduced his three pureblood friends and then to everyone's shock, called over the three youngest Weasleys and Neville. The twins just about managed to behave, only once asking to be adopted. Heri watched with interest as Neville did his best to present a dignified front and amusement at the terrified look on Ron's face. He knew that everyone would see it as an honour to be introduced to his parents, but he was really only introducing them so the two could put faces to the names he'd been telling them about since the start of school. He could tell that his father liked the twins.
They all turned as Dumbledore cleared his throat. He'd made his way over to them during the pleasantries. Gomez took one looks at the man's outrageous robes and turned back.
"Son, are you sure you want to stay here?" By the way he spoke anyone would think Heri was being held against his will. Morticia too looked genuinely concerned.
"You know the house just isn't the same with my boys gone."
"And Tilly has been having such a hard time from little Wednesday." Even Heri flinched at that. He was sure his little sister was taking all her frustrations out on his elf. Well, as long as she was still alive, she should probably consider herself lucky, all things considered. He'd see Wednesday kill for less – vindictive little vixen that she was.
"I hope, Mr and Mrs Addams," Dumbledore spoke up for the first time, trying for good-natured-educator even though his instincts were screaming at him to display his power. "that you find our school satisfactory." The Addams' finally gave the headmaster their attention.
"Well, that's really why we're here Mr Dumbledore, although surely you already know that." Gomez said before making his formal introductions.
"We do have concerns about your choice of faculty." Morticia added in a tone that was in no way, shape or form threatening, but somehow still managed to put all the teachers on edge.
"I believe this visit is in regards to Professor Binns, yes?" Albus said to alleviate the fears the other teachers no doubt held. "Perhaps we could discuss this in my office?" He was relieved when the parents agreed and was kicking himself that he hadn't been expedient in replying to their letter concerning this issue.
As soon as they were gone, the hall broke out in conspiratorial whispering. Ron quickly scuppered back to the Gryffindor table, but Neville and the twins joined the others at the Slytherin table and nobody said a damn thing about it.