ADDAMMISH POTTER 7

Wednesday looked around quietly. "Where are you?"

"Over here," Joel whispered. Wednesday smiled. She wasn't sure what to do when one liked a boy, but she was certain that you had to at least take them to meet the family ONCE before they had an unfortunately fatal accident.

"Where, exactly?"

"By the fake skeleton."

The skeleton? That's where she was. Wednesday straightened up, only to find herself nose-to-nose with the bespectacled boy. His breath smelled funny.

"I got your message inside my cutlet."

"Good. I need to ask you something; Do you believe in the existence of evil?" If he didn't understand the type of evil she was reffering to, so help her . . .

"Did you meet my mom?" Close enough.

"My Uncle Fester's about to get married, to a woman in a white uniform." Let him get it, let him get it, let him get it . . .

"A radiologist?" Oh thank Hell. Most people would figure Fester was dying - like that was a bad thing.

"No you ninny, a nanny. More specifically, my siblings and my nanny. She's vile, but I have to go to the wedding. I have a pass to leave camp. All of my cousins do. Do you want to come? They already had the bachelor party, so now there's just the wedding." Personally, Wednesday thought that she might like Debbie, were the woman not so . . . Fake. And marrying her Uncle. If the woman had better taste, she might put up with her.

Joel looked like he would hyperventilate. "You mean, like, on a date?"

Wednesday blinked. "No." Ew. Grandmama was right when she said boys didn't think properly.

Joel smiled brightly at her anyway. She'd have to fix that. "I'd love to."

The next day found Joel Glicker being cornered by Harry and Pugsley Addams, both looking fit to kill.

"You like our sister," Harcourt stated, glaring. This was fun.

"And she likes you." Pugsley had his arms crossed, and was spinning a very sharp-looking knife in his fingers lazily.

Joel perked up at this. "Really? She does?"

Harcourt smiled and patted Joel's shoulder, "Yes. She does. And if you do anything to hurt her, intentionally or not, you will have the whole of the Addams clan after you, Wednesday at it's head. No-one will find the body." Silently, the green-eyed boy made a note to call dibs on the blood. He had a few ideas on the effects of Muggle blood and magic.

Joel gulped.

Pugsley grinned. "But you wouldn't do that. Well, we're going to bed. Catch." And before Joel knew where they'd gone, a knife was pinned in the wall by his ear, a drop of blood falling from it to his shoulder. Aw, he hadn't flinched . . . Then again, Wednesday would behead him if he killed her crush before she could . . .

Maybe he was in over his head . . . Nah. He was sure that the Addamses were perfectly nice, just a little odd and very protective of each other.

Addams Family Graveyard. Fester and Debbie's Wedding.

Joel glanced nervously around him. He was at the end of his row, with Pugsley behind him, Harcourt next to him, and Edgar and Ellen in front of him, and Eddie and Vendetta diagonal. And they all kept on smirking at him . . . Even the baby, sitting on Mrs. Addams lap two rows down! He looked up as some dead flower petals from Wednesday hit him on the nose, causing him to bleed a little. He didn't know that flowers could be so sharp . . . Everyone was in black, and it looked more like a funeral in the moonlight, but Joel supposed that was just the Addams. They couldn't be horrible if they produced Wednesday, after all!

He turned to the front again, trying to ignore Harcourt's smirk, and watched as a stack of hair read our from a blood-stained Bible. Was that . . . blood on the bookmark? Nah, it couldn't be. That'd be just too creepy. It was probably ketchup.

Wednesday's Uncle Fester spoke first to say his vows. "I, Fester Addams, do hereby declare my unending love…" The bald man paused for a second, sobbing, "I will worship you forever. I will devote my every waking moment to your happiness alone. Henceforth, I am your eternal and helpless slave."

Joel didn't think those were the traditional wedding vows . . . Slave?

Debbie shrugged. "Nice. Er . . . Ditto." She shrugged again. Joel clapped with everyone else, and tried to ignore the odd looks pointed his way. He looked down at his suit. It was a nice one, his dad had worn it to his prom and first date with Joel's mother. It was blue and white and had a paisley tie, and while it contrasted with the Addamses clothes, it wasn't that bad, was it? Joel hurried over to Wednesday once the clapping ended and Fester and Debbie had left for their Honeymoon, complete with a fake dead body tied to the back of their coach with the cans. He wondered where Wednesday's family had found such a realistic corpse. Maybe one of them was in the movie industry?

Wednesday caught the bride's bouquet, and hadn't been exactly happy about it. When Joel told her she had to get married now, she had said 'it's not binding.' and an old lady had called her a tramp.

Were all girls like that?

. . . .

Harcourt glared as he and his cousins were shepherded back to their cabin after getting back to camp. At least Pugsley had managed to get some more explosives . . . Becky looked a bit peaky, drawn. Well, her husband had gone mysteriously missing, and now the camp was going to be inspected . . . Which, while funny, caused the adults to send them back to camp, not listening when the children said they didn't want to. After all, if people were going missing at the camp, it must not be all that bad, right? Not.

Ellen shoved something into his hand. "Read it and pass it on, Cousin," she whispered, cackling.

'Make campers revolt. Along the lines of "disgustingly familiar servants"? They should take to it.'' It was in Eddie's handwriting. The boy was brilliant. 'Becky's bound and gagged down by the lake, on the far side waiting for Wednesday. Maybe not willingly, but she won't go running off 'cause she's "lost" her clothes..'

Harcourt smirked and passed it to Vendetta. It seemed that Wednesday would be having fun tonight.

Wednesday's Cabin, Midnight.

Wednesday snorted, just loud enough for the other girls to hear.

"What're you snorting at, Wednesday?" Amanda sneered childishly.

"Nothing at all," Wednesday said slowly. "It's just that . . . well, you're all being so familiar with Becky and the other Camp staff . . . "

"So?"

Wednesday sat up, putting her book down and facing the blondes. "Well, you were disgusted as I was when you found out that my Uncle was marrying a servant, were you not?"

"Yeah . . . "

"Well, what's the difference between that and you acting like that with Becky? She's just a glorified nanny, isn't she?" Ignoring the other girls' gaping and splutters, she continued, "I don't think it's your fault, though . . . After all, you didn't realize it. She and Gary just made you think that they were what they aren't. If they were good enough to be like us, they'd be sending their own kids to a camp instead of praying that our parents sent them business, wouldn't they? If you want it to stay all kissy-kissy with the servant class, go ahead, but I and my family will rightly consider those who do well beneath our notice and of course my parents won't stand for it, not with us, at least."

She smirked as the bobble-head's eyes widened and they huddled together, whispering.

Well, this was starting nicely.

Addams Family Home, One Week Later:

Morticia smiled slightly as she watched her husband mix up the vodka and bat's blood for their littlest son, Pubert. And he even remembered the raw egg, this time . . .

He was getting better, after three other children.

Still, she was slightly worried about Fester. It wasn't like him not to at least send them a bomb after a week. Did he and Debbie go massacring? It was one of the only things that made sense . . .

Morticia didn't realize that she had been speaking out loud until Gomez answered her.

"It has been almost a week, hasn't it?" He glanced at Pubert. "Look at him, too much fun at the reception. Don't worry, querida, if nothing else, we'll know that they had a good time when they bring back the shrunken heads."

Morticia nodded. "In the mean time . . . We have new neighbors, Gomez."

Gomez grinned. "The ones by City Hall?"

"The very ones."

"Shall we . . . "

"Terrorize them? Oui."

"Tish! You spoke French!"

"Not now, Gomez, later. First, we must greet the neighbors."

The Fendertons moved away the next day . . . Such an odd couple, so bright, so full of life . . . At least they hadn't planted daisies, otherwise new neighbors may never move in again.

Camp Chippewa, Inspection Day One:

Twang, went Amanda's arrow as it hit the bulls eye.

"Excellent, Amanda!" Becky said, clapping, before she moved to hug the buck-toothed blonde.

"Ewww!" Amanda screeched. "How dare you take such liberties with my person you...you underling! You're not even a house servant,you're no better than a huntsman's wife, you wouldn't even allowed indoors unless it's out here in the woods away from decent people! You've gotten above yourself! Imagine, a mere servant touching me without permission! Ugh, now I'll have to bathe again to get the germs off!"

The Addams cousins smothered laughs. It seemed that Wednesday's efforts at making the stuck up, snobbish girls even more aware of their own importance had worked wonders. Though the rant was rather irritating, it did get the point across. The other Addamses still weren't sure how Wednesday had managed to not kill the girls, let alone 'connect' with them . .

Becky's smile faltered, and she glanced quickly toward the man with a clipboard. "Uhm . . . Next!" She smiled tightly as Emily stepped forward, pushing Wednesday's boyfriend out of the way slightly as she did.

"Dear Children," Wednesday began reading from a postcard from Uncle Fester, "I love you dearly, but I can never see you again." Emily stopped to listen for a moment, her face interested.

Becky growled. "Strange! Go!"

The man with the clipboard tsk'd and scribbled something down on his papers.

Emily shot the arrow toward Becky, who ducked. It did manage to take some of her hair, though.

"Good try!" The middle-aged bottle blonde said tightly.

The clipboard man hmm'd again.

"When you are grown up and very lonely, you will understand. Love, Uncle Fester.'" Wednesday turned to face her twin and other two siblings. "He's a dead man."

"Munster! Your turn!"

Eddie grinned. "Yes, Becky!" He notched his bow and took a shot.

An American Bald Eagle came down.

The man dropped his clipboard.

Eddie turned to Becky. "Did I do good? You said to hit anything I could, so isn't a moving target the best?"

Becky just stared at the dead bird. "That's an American Bald Eagle . . . But . . . But aren't they extinct?"

"They are now!" Eddie said happily. "My Grandpa would be pleased if I can get him some of the blood for his experiments. And my Aunt Morticia might like the feathers for quills, too . . . "

THE DISCOVERIES

Later, when they had been sent to the Harmony Hut again, Emily called over the Alps, Pugsley and the Addams twins, the only ones in there with her, this time.

"Look! Ed, El, the bug you put on Uncle Fester's bag activated. Look!"

Fester was patting his new blond hair. It looked like a bad wig glued to his scalp. A woman in the background was shouting.

"Be careful, it's a Credenza! These are beautiful things, they're from catalogues! Fester, get over here!"

Fester ran over, scratching his head. There were muffled sounds, and the woman said something about being paid to hug him.

"Did Fester get a mistress?" Ellen asked.

Wednesday snorted. "Doubtful," Harcourt elaborated.

"That's a Queen Anne chandelier!" Shouted the woman in the mirror.

"Debbie," the cousins said together, rolling their eyes.

Well, if either one of them died, they could either help hide the body, or organize a manhunt. Preferably hide Debbie's body . . .

They got out of the Hut a while later, and told their cousins what they had seen, before being dragged by Becky over to the stands near the lake for some sort of weird assembly.

This could not end well.

Addams' House:

"Hawaii is wonderful, I wish you were here, and I can never see you again. P.S. Debbie says 'hi'." I don't understand – for weeks, not a word, and now this!" Gomez stared at his brother's letter in horror. "Morticia - surely - surely this isn't right? How can this be from Fester?"

The Addams matriarch rubbed her husband's arm soothingly. "Darling, I'm sure it's-it's just a phase. He and Debbie are enjoying their time together, and it's affecting his mind slightly. There's nothing wrong with a bit more insanity, and we can always visit him, even if he doesn't like it. Aren't those the best visits, Bubele?"

Gomez didn't respond.

Oh, dear.

" . . . Have I done something, said something? Why does my brother despise me?"

"He adores you, darling."

"I'd do anything for him. At his request, I would rip out my eyes! At his command, I would crawl on my belly though hot coals and broken glass!"

There was an idea . . . "Why wait?"

Gomez wasn't paying attention to anything she said. Hmph. "Has Fester gone sane?"

Morticia sighed. "Gomez, darling. This is all some sort of phase. Post-honeymoon malaise. It's very common. Don't you remember our honeymoon?"

"That glorious cruise..." Gomez smiled.

"No cares."

"No worries."

"No survivors."

"Cara mia."

As the days went by, Gomez became more worried for Fester. Morticia had rarely seen something affect him this way. He went about everything normally, but his eyes were always worried, and it did not please Mrs. Addams one little bit.

Morticia was stumped on what to do, and did what she had done only a few times before - she retreated to the tunnels and cave around the house and wrote. Instead of books, like she had the last time she did this, Morticia wrote letters to help her think more clearly. Gomez would get better, she was sure, and if he didn't . . . Well, if he didn't, dead didn't have to mean gone, and she and Gomez had been wanting a ghost to occupy the house.

Now who to write to . . . Oh, that Minister man had sent her a letter, positively demanding that her twins attend Hogwarts. Or, rather, that Harcourt did. Silly man . . . Now where was the Malaclaw venom for her ink . . .

Oh, so many letters, so little poison. Maybe she could use a blood quill . . . Hmmm, perhaps, but she rather thought she would reserve that for whoever Fudge sent...she knew he would send someone once she made McGonagall the offer she was about to make. The Family, did, after all have all that hideous land in the Rocky Mountains, it was normal in the warm months and looked like a muggle Christmas card the rest of the time...but if she offered it to Hogwarts, the headmistress could move the institution completely and utterly out of that Mr. Fudge's reach and his jurisdiction. Magical children here didn't have anywhere near so many restrictions on their doings.

Yes, that would work. And the children might like to hear from her, too. Morticia wondered if that strange Becky woman had gone missing like her husband . . . she certainly hoped so.

Headmistress' Office, Hogwarts.

Minerva sighed; she should have guessed that the Addams Matriarch would want a run-down of the curriculum . . . She cast a quick Sonorous charm on herself. "Will all members of the teaching staff report to the headmistress' office with their lesson plans for the first through fourth years, please and prepare yourselves for an emergency staff meeting."

This would be a long day. She didn't really like the idea of moving Hogwarts, but the ministry's demands were becoming downright hostile. She felt a bit boxed in and had already ordered Hagrid to Gather the Forest and all Within for the move off these grounds to the new place provided by Morticia Addams. It would be better for all concerned, really, since the nearest muggle was several hundred miles in any direction. They would be quite isolated and private...as much as Hogwarts had been upon it's founding. Hogwarts could only be moved by the current headmaster or mistress and then only once every one thousand years. Once the foundation of the school had merged into the basement rock of the new location there would be nothing that anyone would be able to do to change it. In return, the Addams took ownership of the old demesnes in Scotland, it was the same amount of land, it was only a trade but they still owed the Addams something for the offer.

The staff hadn't been happy, but agreed there was nothing else for it. The move had to be made and that was that.

"First night, after Sorting...her children, if they join us at all will do so after our arrival. There's no need to worry about Albus, he's already receiving the best possible care."

August 31, 1991 – The Day Before The Start of Term.

Despite Fudge raising hell, sending spies and agents to try to bring back the Boy-Who-Lived to England by force before the term-time (providing even Gomez with frequent distractions from Fester's problems when dealing with those sent) Sorting Night and Feast went off without the presences of the Addams' children...and the Transfer Enchantment did as well.

The best part as far as Minevra was concerned was that the Americans made reasonable laws meant to ensure the best interests of the children and other than period competency tests to make sure the instruction level met a minimum standard, pretty much left them alone except for providing funding. This was a plus. She did like the 'minimum' standards test...one could not be hired to teach at a Hogwarts level school, unless one was already an accredited teacher with at least 10 years of combined teaching experience and could prove it...there would be no more Lockhart type disasters in the classroom. Had this been a university or college the teaching requirements were much, much stiffer and more demanding.

September 3rd, 1991 - The Day the English Ministry of Magic Found Out

Fudge collapsed in rage...Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was now an American School with a brand new charter that had just been ratified. There was nothing he could do about it, it would be a thousand years before it could be moved again and this wasn't to be born!