Chapter 129
The grand ballroom shone in the night, lit with a thousand candles, in a way that made it seem enchanting instead of the huge fire hazard it probably was. In the corner was the band, playing as family and guests alike began to arrive. Tony hadn't been any more prepared for things than Hera had been, though he had heard about her mild panic over it. Severus and Sirius had actually come together to rescue him there, working up something that could fit him that wouldn't look too out of place given what they'd seen so far. He was happy that Morticia had offered to help Hera, though he did wonder about the motivation.
There were very few people, though that number seemed to be getting larger by the day thanks to Hera, that liked him for himself and not his money. He didn't want his little sister to be taken advantage of, and dearly hoped for both their sakes that the Addams Family weren't the sort to do that kind of thing. He didn't think they were, if their guests and extended family were an indication. It was rather liberating to speak with people who were fascinated by his achievements and not his money, though their fascination was definitely of the macabre variety.
It wasn't long before the party was in full swing, with mingling conversation and the strangest food Tony had ever seen in his life. It is at this point that Hera entered the room, and Tony saw what she was wearing. Morticia had taken one of her dresses and altered it to fit Hera, but hadn't stopped there. The black fabric had a sort of green hue to it in the right light, with just enough gold to make one question if they saw it at all. Hera's hair was still very much the color of flames mixed with her original black.
The entire effect was rather like a candle; warm and inviting, but with the power to cause pain and destruction if given half a chance. That actually described Hera rather well, all things considered. She was one of the nicest and most genuine people Tony had ever had the pleasure of knowing, but she would outright burn the world if the people she loved were threatened. Along with the dress, Morticia had helped Hera with a bit of make-up, giving her lips a dark blood red staining, and accentuating her eyes. The entire effect made her natural beauty look all the more devastating.
"You look like you'd knock em dead." Tony declared, when she made her way over to him. "How do you feel?"
"A bit silly for panicking the way I did, but the dress is really nice." Hera admitted, before looking down at the dress in question. "You wouldn't believe how many knives I can hide in this without magic. Morticia was an absolute fountain of knowledge."
"You have an obsession with knives." He teased with an impish grin, before looking around at the crowd. "Am I gonna have to fight some of these people off with a stick? Goméz explained how the family works. A lot of them aren't related by blood, marriage, or adoption. They just welcomed people into the family, and called them an Addams. I'm pretty sure that's what happened to us."
"Probably, and no." Hera replied, snickering at him. "Besides, if you did that, I wouldn't get the opportunity to use any of my knives."
The two of them chuckled at that.
"Where is Salazar?" She wondered, looking around.
"Oh. He saw what looked to be a tall hay bale like mound of hair talking to Goméz earlier, and had to talk to it. I think Fester said that was their name too. Cousin It? I still can't wrap my head around that." Tony replied, pointing over to where he'd seen the boy last. "He wasn't phased in the slightest by the surprise party, just fished a pair of standard black wizarding robes out of his trunk, and looked at me like I should have known better."
"To be fair, we really should have." Hera chuckled.
There seemed to be some unknown signal, because everyone hushed within an instant after that.
"Taught to us by our Cossack cousins," Goméz began, his voice ringing out across the room. "the Mamushka is an Addams family tradition dating back to Lucifer knows when. We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled! We danced the Mamushka at Waterloo! We danced the Mamushka for Jack the ripper! We dance for the dead! We dance for the living! We dance for old friends, and the new! And now, Hera Potter, Tony Stark, Severus Snape, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin…We dance for you!"
"I told him he didn't have to name literally all of us. The family would know, but he insisted." Luna spoke up, a fond smile on her face.
"Did you tell him that before or after mentioning that you hadn't warned me there would be a party?" Hera countered, arching an eyebrow. There was no actual heat in her voice, and a wry grin on her dark red painted lips.
"The dress does look good on you." Luna replied with a sheepish grin.
"Could have done without the panic, really, but that part's on me." Hera shrugged, reaching out to squeeze the girl's hand for a second. "You're a good friend, Luna."
That was all the conversation they had time for before the clash of tambourines joined the music. It was insidious and enchanting all at once. The crowd began to stomp, rattling the floor. A violin rose above the percussion, Morticia standing in the midst of the band with a blood-red violin. Tony found himself joining in the stomping, actively enjoying what looked to be turning into a goth rave.
Pugsley and Wednesday began to circle each other, as Goméz and Fester did the same. Pubert crawled into the middle of them, and was quickly thrown by Pugsley towards his sister, who quite literally drop-kicked him back. Tony couldn't help but laugh at the look of complete and utter shock on Hera's face. Her jaw had dropped, and it didn't look like she was going to be able to pick it up off the floor any time soon. The only thing that seemed to stop her from doing anything against them was the fact that Pubert looked to be enjoying himself.
The child was five years old at least, and it had to have taken considerable strength to toss the little guy in the air the way they were. Pubert went from being drop-kicked by Wednesday to landing in Goméz's arms. From there he was tossed to Fester, who flung him at Pugsley, who dodged completely. This caused the little guy to land in the absolutely gigantic punch bowl with a huge splash. Had the knives been in the punch before the kid, or had Pubert already had knives on him?…Tony didn't want to think about that; he'd drank that punch.
There were so many knives, but he wasn't surprised when Hera's own joined in the mix. She hadn't been able to resist the temptation, and she weaved between the five of them with ease. They didn't bat an eye at the new addition, sending knives her way just as easily as she sent them to theirs. Before long, Luna had joined the mix as well, bringing with her a variety of knives Severus would likely be proud of. Goméz and Fester looked to be having the time of their lives, defending against the volley of knives and sending them back.
All of them were spinning, dodging, weaving through each other; even Pubert. Tony winced whenever he saw Pugsley kick at a knife, but somehow the boy's foot always seemed to find the handle rather than the blade. The band certainly wasn't immune to the display, as knives inevitable went into the surrounding areas, though Morticia didn't seem to notice as she kept playing. The knives seemed to avoid her somehow, sinking into the wall behind her with a resounding thud each time. Hera spun and lunged at Fester, who did a quick twist and tossed Hera over him; which she used as an opportunity to nimbly send another volley of knives at him before she landed gracefully back onto the dance floor.
He caught a few of the knives and sent them towards Goméz, even as he kicked out at the last of them to send them towards Pubert. The little guy used one of the serving trays as a shield; the knives hitting it with a sharp thunk-thunk-thunk. Goméz caught the remaining knives, tossing them into the air. As one, the four other children dashed and lunged for the two older gentlemen. It looked like the knives would come down to skewer them all. It looked like the children would kill the adults, like they wouldn't be able to catch them all in time, like they were going to cut their heads off.
Goméz and Fester both managed to dodge the children with a series of twirls and sweeps, before each grabbing the hand of those closest to them, and a shower of knives rained down upon them. Tony's heart is in his throat, but to his utter relief, none of the knives hit them. The six of them then all took a deep bow, while Pubert happily plucked at the knives that were still vibrating from the force with which they had been thrust into the oak floor. The crowd began clapping, and Tony couldn't help but clap along. It had been an impressive display.
"You're going to give me grey hairs, Lil Blue." Tony insisted, when Hera rejoined him. He knew she wouldn't take him serious, as both of them were wearing beaming smiles.
"A little salt and pepper will make you look distinguished, Broðir." Hera teased.
"Hera, that was…" Draco floundered, as both he and Ron approached.
"You don't do that during practice." Ron stated, shrugging when Draco glared at him. "You weren't going to say it."
"I wasn't sure you'd be up for practicing with knives." Hera admitted sheepishly.
"Knives next time." Hermione insisted, persistent.
"Alright." Hera agreed, smiling fondly. "Knives next time."
"Would you…" Salazar hesitated, uncertain. "Would you teach me too? That looked like a lot of fun."
Hera looked shocked, certainly surprised, but slowly nodded.
"Great. Madam Pomfrey will be delighted, I'm sure." Severus cut in, as he arrived with Salazar in tow.
"I wouldn't worry too much, Professor." Luna assured him. "That just means she'll make us train to be proper healers in our own right."
Remus wasn't sure how he'd ended up in this contraption, just that he'd woken up tied to a chair with leather straps. His fingers twitched as said straps were tightened, while he tried to remember if he'd imbibed any alcohol the night before that would explain his latest predicament. The cables were positively humming with electricity. Sparks leapt from the ancient looking lever board. The sounds of snickering off to the side pulled him out of his sleep filled shock, and he turned his head to see Sirius grinning at him.
On one hand, it made him feel better that this wasn't some sort of hostile situation; he'd been worried about that. On the other hand, it reminded him far too much of the kinds of stunts they'd pulled on each other back in their Hogwarts years. Sirius' hair stood on end, his hands shaking around a cup of water. Despite all this, the man grinned like mad. Surely that meant he'd gone through this too, and was alright?
"Sirius, what the…" Remus trailed off, still trying to wrap his mind around what was happening. "I thought we agreed not to pull stunts like this anymore; especially after what happened last time."
"You two might have. I didn't." Hera admitted, appearing by Sirius' side with a grin of her own. Her hair was sticking out everywhere as well.
"I'm actually surprised she managed to get you here without waking you up." Tony admitted, surprising him, sounding completely unbothered by any of this. In fact, the man was shaking as Sirius was, hair all askew just the same, looking over Wednesday's work.
"Same." Sirius agreed.
"Oh, I trapped a bit of air in with him when I cast the spell to levitate him. Smells and things stayed the same, so his wolf wouldn't notice something was amiss quite as readily as he might have otherwise." Hera admitted sheepishly.
"You can do that?" Tony asked, in surprise, looking to her now. Hera nodded, her grin a bit bigger now.
"What happened last time?" Hera inquired, looking to Sirius.
"Absolutely not, Sirius." Remus warned – pleaded more like – glaring at him now. "We swore each other to secrecy."
"Marauders vow and everything. I remember." Sirius sighed with regret. "Sorry, Pup, no can do."
"But…I'm second gen Marauder, and your god to boot!" Hera objected, but she couldn't keep a straight face for laughing. "That should count for something, right?"
"It does," Sirius replied, as he played with some of the sparks that were coming from her hair. "but promises are promises after all."
Hera huffed, still smiling, and playfully smacked his hand away. "I know. What's done is done, and what's said is said. Still…You could give a mini marauder a clue, right? Just a teensy little hint?"
Sirius chuckled at her antics, ruffling her hair again, snickering at the sparks that leapt up.
"This is safe…right?" Remus asked. He was smiling at Hera's antics as well, but couldn't help the nervous glance back to the sparking lever board.
"Don't worry, Remus, magic cushions the blow, protects you automatically; at least from death." Hera assured him. "You'll probably only feel a slight tingle, like Sirius or Tony did. I swear I can still taste the electricity, something a bit zingy, but it's nothing on Zeus or Thor's power. Besides, Wixen are harder to kill by regular means."
"Doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying." Wednesday muttered, before grinning at him in a way that felt vaguely threatening. "Ready?"
He was, in fact, not ready in the slightest.
Severus walked into the kitchen, stomping his feet, leaving a trail of dirt in his wake. This was not how he'd expected to spend his summer. He'd somehow managed to avoid the bonding activity that was being electrocuted together, something he still couldn't wrap his mind around, only to run into Pugsley. The boy had offered to lead him to a quiet place to think, which Severus had mistakenly thought of as a surprisingly normal interaction, and had accepted. He hadn't expected to immediately black out, or to wake up in a box that smelled of dirt.
Instead of panicking, he'd only sighed. He should have known. There was nothing more quiet than a grave, and the boy had offered him just that; some place quiet. The Addams Family had a unique take on life and death, believing that death was to be celebrated as much as life, but they did not seem to hold the sort of depravity that Death Eaters did. They had a depravity of their own, of course, just not one based on blood status.
They also did not hold to abuse of children. The constant near death situations their children revelled in were to help them survive their adult years. He doubted Potter or Lovegood would have accepted them otherwise. It was certainly an interesting take on things, though not one that he could see working on a larger scale for everyone else. He sighed again, feeling more dirt fall out of his hair now.
"Why are you covered in dirt?" Potter inquired, seeing him enter, dumbfounded.
"Oh, I buried him." Pugsley answered easily. When she stared at him incredulously, he held his hands up in defence. "He agreed to it, I swear!"
"Really?" Potter wondered in surprise, turning back to him. "How was it?"
"Surprisingly restful." Severus admitted, before looking down at his garments. "Though I could do without dirt in my clothing, being enclosed with only my thoughts allowed for greater introspection than I can usually indulge in. Wouldn't recommend it to someone who fears being trapped in said small spaces, however. Also could have done with a bit more explanation of what he meant by 'a quiet place to think'."
"Wanna give it a shot?" Pugsley asked, looking to Potter now.
"Think I'll pass." She replied, with wry amusement. "I tend to end up in enclosed spaces as it is. Scare me when I'm not expecting it, and there's no telling where I'll end up."
Salazar had managed to dodge most of the mayhem thus far. The place was pure bedlam, but somehow it didn't feel overwhelming or anything like how he'd remembered the revels to be. Still, Hera had made good on her word. The next time they had practised, she'd included knives, and she'd expected him to join in. She'd invited the Addams' children in on it as well, or they'd invited themselves; he still wasn't sure which.
With them came the inclusion of other weapons. After all, they reasoned, what was the fun in such predictability? Hera practically insisted on it, intent on them being comfortable with as many kinds of weapons as possible. He just hadn't expected forks – honest-to-God forks! – to be involved. Apparently, Pugsley favoured bombs he could strap with the things for added shrapnel.
"Damn it, Pugsley!" Salazar snapped, pulling a fork out of his arm as he cursed his thoughts for wandering away from him. "Forks aren't weapons!"
"Anything can be a weapon if you try hard enough." * Pugsley shrugged, unrepentant.
He was about to reply when he was interrupted by the sudden need to dodge. A morning star was lodged in the wall behind him, where it hadn't been before. That was another thing Hera claimed the physical activity helped with. One should always have an instinctive awareness of their surroundings, and awareness of oneself aided magic in that. They all turn to see Tony with confusion.
"Broðir?" Hera inquired, surprised and uncertain.
"I barely stopped myself from entering the fray that was the Mamushka. You didn't think I was going to stay out of things this time, did you?" The dark haired man replied with a grin like a shark, before producing another three morning stars. "I'm not as harmless as I look, you know."
"But…you asked me for training after what happened in the Department of Mysteries." Hera replied, looking slightly confused. "…Why?"
"One of the few good ideas Howard had in regards to me was making sure I knew how to defend myself, something I went lax on after my parents died just to spite him." Tony admitted ruefully. "Clearly, that was a mistake on my part. No time like the present, right?"
Hera laughed joyfully, and the game was on once more; this time with Tony joining them. Salazar thought her mad for laughing, but had to admit there was a certain exhilaration to it all. The promise of blood and death with every perry, every step a potential danger. Hera knew the dance well, and the Addams family only added to the danger of it all. Tony certainly proved to be a surprise, and Salazar vowed to himself never to underestimate him; or any of the others, for that matter.
"Hera darling, up so early?"
Hera turned to see Morticia had seemingly appeared from out of nowhere.
"Couldn't sleep." She admitted. "Thought a bit of wandering would be calming."
"A nightmare then." Morticia surmised, sounding fond. "Come with me. I'd like to show you something."
Hera found herself in a dimly lit greenhouse not moments later. There were many varieties of plants within, some she couldn't recognize or didn't know the names of. For all that around every corner was the promise of death, Hera found herself calming some. Morticia didn't speak, seeming to understand that she needed the silence. It isn't until they are deep within that the woman says anything at all.
"Do you like it?" Morticia inquired, gesturing slightly around her. "I've always found it calming to be in here surrounded by various poisons."
"It is pretty calming." Hera agreed. "Neville would love this place, I'm sure. He's amazing at herbology."
"Your nightmare, do you want to talk about it?"
Hera paused to consider.
"If you fail…there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he can't find you. You think you know pain? He will make you long for something as sweet as pain." She quoted, looking at a moving plant as her mind wandered back. "I know he isn't talking to me, that I'm reliving memories that do not belong to my present, but…I hear the words, I feel that pain, and I know…I know what will happen, and I don't know if any of this will be enough."
"It may not be, but that is the risk with any venture." Morticia reminded her. "You are focused on him. Why?"
"I've seen how you and Goméz are. You revel in pain and celebrate death, sure, but it isn't…It might be certifiably insane, but it isn't the same. As much as you destroy, you protect. This whole family…It feels like it's meant to inject chaos into the mix, to remind others that there is more to life than the mind numbing grind of the day to day, or you simply balance the scales; make things a bit more sporting." Hera tried to explain. "What he wants…what they want…will tip the scales too far. They won't just come after me. They'll come after everyone. They won't stop till half of all life is wiped from existence, and I-"
Hera was surprised out of speaking when Morticia clasped her hands into her own. She hadn't realized she was spiralling again. Morticia waited as Hera calmed her breathing once more. The woman's hands were colder than ice, and for her to notice that said a lot. Still, it was comforting, and it allowed her something to focus on as she steadied her breathing.
"If we die, we die." Morticia began, once it was clear Hera was calm again, squeezing her hands gently when she went to object. "That is the way of the living."
"I know that, but-"
"You are afraid; not of death, but of loss." Morticia saw then, and Hera nodded. "Fear can motivate, but it can also cloud ones judgement, or cause us to freeze with inaction. Will you let your fear stop you from doing what must be done?"
"No."
"Then that is all that you can do. Let the rest sort itself out." Morticia assured her. "In the meantime, do not forget to live your life. Seize the day."
"By the throat?" Hera offered, causing Morticia to softly chuckle.
"If need be." Morticia agreed, then gestured for her to see one of the plants up close. "This is Cleopatra. She's an African Strangler. Normally we would keep her in the main house, but Pugsley set off an explosion a little too close to her, so she's been in recovery. We weren't expecting her to start sprouting. Cleopatra, say hello."
The plant did a little wave with one of its tendrils.
"I think you'd like the Whomping Willow." Hera decided, letting Cleopatra wrap a tendril around her finger and shaking it gently. "It's cognizant too, and particularly violent. Would you like me to send you a cutting?"
"Only if you are willing to accept one of Cleopatra." Morticia bargained, looking fondly between the two. "She seems quite taken with you."
Hera nodded happily, rubbing above where she thought Cleopatra's 'eyes' would be, snorting when the African Strangler began rumbling like a purring cat.
"Come on then." Morticia cajoled when Hera began to yawn. "I think it's time all little vipers go to bed, yes?"
It is mid afternoon the next day when Hera finds Goméz on the roof, much to her confusion. He appeared to be playing…golf? On the roof? What she knew of the sport made it seem rather boring, and the Addams' family were anything but. Why would he want to play golf? She watched as he set up, the swing, and the dawning realization of where the ball would land.
"Ah, I had wondered." She admitted. The chaos it had caused down below was proof enough.
He turned to her with an elated smile on his face. "Would you like a turn? It's quite fun! Someone told me to take up golfing like a normal rich person. I didn't believe it would be any fun, but I tried it out, and it's amazing. I insist you take the next shot."
"I doubt this is how normal rich people golf, you know." Hera supplied, trying her damnedest to keep the smile from her face. She is not successful.
"Bah, normal." Goméz waved away. "That's boring. This is more fun."
This is how she finds herself 'golfing' on the roof with Goméz. There is a lot of property damage. It was actually kind of impressive. She had to admit this style of golfing was a lot more fun than anything she'd seen of it previously. The two even had a nice competitive tally going on, comparing and supporting the others mayhem.
"Let's see if you can top that!" Goméz challenged. His exuberant happiness was rather contagious, and Hera found herself matching energies easily. "Put your whole strength into it."
That caught her off guard.
"My whole strength?" She inquired, not sure she'd heard him right. "Are you sure?"
"I insist!" Goméz cheered. "Go on. Let's see what you can really do."
"This is such a bad idea." Hera snickered, even as she set up.
With that, she swung the club as hard and as precise as she could. Goméz's eyes actually widened as the little golf ball quickly disappeared. Neither were expecting the explosion that occurred. The car alarms that began sounding from the concussive blast were to be expected, as were the sounds of fire trucks blaring horns. They both looked at each other, gobsmacked, and before too long they were laughing in spite of themselves.
"We are in so much trouble!"
"Anything is a weapon if you try hard enough."
― Porg/Evelyn
AN: reminder that this chapter is inspired in part by Harveste Addams by Kyaru(Thumbie)