Chapter 8: The frightening cheerful man

Summary:

Dumbledore tries to be nosy.

Snape makes a mistake.

The sorting proceeds and Millie is afraid.

Draco is furious.

And the Headmaster has some warnings to give.

Notes:

It's Wednesday my dudes :D

How y'all doing? Did I hear you asking for Draco meeting Hermione?

Wish granted, my darlings, Addams vs Malfoy: round 1, FIGHT!

As per usual, Happy reading!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Baron de Montesquieu once said that "Power ought to serve as a check to power.". Slytherin fashioned themselves the biggest fish in the pond for a very long time, by the virtue that they were purebloods, thus above everyone else.

Hermione was determined to break this cycle of self importance. She was ready to grab Slytherin by the throat and show them that she would change the game to be played by her own rules, rules that would surely leave this school shaking in their boots, if in fear or excitement only time would tell, she hoped for the former.

Being the first at the table, she was under scrutiny longer. Hermione could feel every eye from Slytherin on her, trying to decipher her through her inexpressive face. She kept her head high and her posture perfectly straight. Growing up at the feet of Morticia Addams would teach you how to behave graciously and not bow to anyone. She noticed Neville observing her from the group waiting to be sorted when Professor Mcgonagall called for Susan Bones. Underneath her inexpressive mask, she had this annoying uncomfortable feeling that felt like fear, fear of being rejected by her first friend. She waited for his reaction and all he did was give her a timid smile and nod, making relief courses through her, forcing her unfounded fear to go away.

Hermione felt eyes on her from the professors table making her attention veered to them. The Headmaster was keenly staring at her, she met his gaze and stared back dispassionately. Grandmama had taught Wednesday and her from a very young age how to protect their minds from nosy mind readers who thought they could waltz into anybody's privacy as if they were owed to their thoughts. Dumbledore visibly flinched, noticed only by those who were paying attention to him, when the mental fingers he extended to poke at her mind were shredded by the cold sharp teeth of one of her many defences. His attention was pulled back to the ceremony when the hat announced that Susan Bones was sorted into Hufflepuff. Hermione continued her perusal of the professors at the table, nodding at the outcasts she made eye contact with that were observing her, who would return the gesture as courtesy.

She made eye contact with inexpressive black eyes, much like her own, she watched his eyebrows raise in surprise just to be swiftly schooled back to a mask of neutrality. She raised a curious eyebrow of her own that went unanswered since the dour professor made a point to turn his attention back to the ceremony, where Lavender Brown got quickly sorted into Gryffindor.

Severus Snape admitted in the privacy of his mind behind his firmly placed occlumency shields, that that was not one of his most intelligent moments. Avoiding eye contact was bound to attract the curiosity of Miss Addams and he learnt when he was younger that attracting an Addams attention wasn't healthy either physically or mentally.

He knew this year Lily's son was coming, he had been warned by Dumbledore to keep an eye on the boy. He wouldn't have a problem with it but the boy was the spitting image of his father and he couldn't help himself but see James Potter strutting his way through the Great Hall amongst the other students. Only seeing Lily's green eyes on Harry's face stopped him from sneering at the boy, who was looking around in wonder with the latest Weasley at his side.

That's when he felt her magic pulling his all the way from his seat at the professor's table. His eyes quickly scanned the first years until he found a little witch that held no expression, her magic felt like the underlying magic of the castle. He watched the girl walk without hesitation after Minerva to the front of the hall. All the other children, like the years upon years of predecessors before them, were looking apprehensive and nervous. The little witch on the other hand looked calm and collected, observing her surroundings without showing neither positive nor negative emotions about anything, as neutral as one could be. When she was sorted into his house and made sure to sit defiantly in the leader spot at that table, he had the feeling he was going to have to pay closer attention to the Slytherin first year class this year. With a quick side glance, he checked what pulled the girl's attention when her head suddenly swirled towards the professor's table. He noticed the old man flinching when his eyes met Miss Addams'. He wondered if the Headmaster was as surprised as he was when she made unwavering eye contact with him or if he tried to sneak a peek at her mind as he was used to with all new students, and was met with something he wasn't expecting. You never knew with an Addams after all, he learned that the hard way.

He was brought back from his musings when the hat yelled 'Slytherin' followed by clapping from the Slytherins. Snape clapped politely with his students when Millicent Bulstrode was sorted into his house. He watched the girl become the target of Miss Addams blank stare. Curiously, Miss Bulstrode immediately lowered her head and made her way to sit demurely at the closest to the professor's table she could. Severus could understand that, in Slytherin, being half blood would always place you at the bottom of the food chain, at least the girl was smart enough to recognize that. Except, before she could sit, Miss Addams called the girl over unexpectedly, patting the spot by her side on the bench. If he was not a master Occlumens his eyebrows would have shot up to his hair line in surprise, as it was, his most physical response was a twitch on his left eyebrow.

Millie walked nervously towards her house's table, it was just her luck that she had an Addams in her year and even worse, in the same house. Millie remembers one time when she was looking out of the window in the little flat she lived with her mum in knockturn alley. There weren't many options in living accommodations for hags out there. Contrary to popular belief, hags did not look like horrible old women covered in warts, they were in fact quite beautiful and whilst not magical like witches and wizards, they were outcasts. Thus shoved to be the afterthought of society, often being maids, bartenders, sex workers and a myriad more of low income workers. And whilst they used to be fond of children's meat, nowadays they were able to sustain themselves with farm animal meat and vitamins like the normies did. Muggles, her mother told her that wizards called them muggles. Millie was lucky enough to actually have magic like her father, forcing him to recognize her as a Bulstrode, magical children were a rarity even if they were half-breeds.

Nevertheless, when Millie was four, one day when gazing out of the window down the alley, she watched an exceptionally pale man wearing a fedora and dark long coat exiting one of the bookstores that peppered the alley that tended to sell dark and downright illegal books. The man seemed absolutely chuffed with his purchase, giggling to himself 'The darklings will be so pleased with their gifts. 'whilst storing what he bought in his duffle wasn't sure what the darklings were, but she for sure didn't want to meet them, judging by the demented glee the clearly insane man exuded.

Suddenly he was surrounded by the three new vampires that had made their way to the knockturn alley not long before the man appearance, a couple of weeks tops. Millie knew they wouldn't be there for long, they were too cocky and overconfident on themselves to survive on the alley. Her mum always said that those that attracted too much attention were bound to be the first to go. The vampires taunted and sneered at the man who just shrugged and responded with a cheerful voice 'That's no reason to blow things out of proportion, I'm sure we can all achieve an agreement together.'. But the vampires arrogantly told him that there was no negotiating and that after they kill the man, they would go after his family for their troubles. Millie watched the smile bleed out of the cheerful man's expression, and in its place, frightening focus appeared in his eyes as his face turned blank. That was the first time Millie felt truly afraid for her life and tried to back away from the window as her primal brain screeched at her to run and hide. Her plans of fleeing were thwarted when her mother's arms boxed her in against the window.

"Watch carefully, my love. "Her mother whispered, as if entranced with the happenings right below them and did not wish to interrupt. "This is one of the most important lessons I could ever pass on to you."

The cheerful man's aura turned murderous, the shadows seemed to darken and reach for the vampires, licking at their heels as if trying to consume them before the man in front of them had a chance. 'I see.' Said the pale man raising his arms towards the three vampires that seemed paralyzed in fear, one of them even had a darker patch of urine in front of his trousers that was increasing in size rapidly. Their hair raised up on their own as the air became heavy and suffocating. Millie could taste the metallic tingling on her tongue when lightning flew from the pale man's hands slamming on the vampires, blackening their pale skin as they seized and screamed until they caught fire. Once they were nothing but ashes, the pale man lowered his arms, patted his coat until he found a wooden box, collected the ashes and cheerfully made his way out of the alley giggling to himself once again about his darklings. Her mother's voice sounded from behind her, burning the lesson she just learned in her mind deep enough so she would never forget, naming the frightening cheerful man that would haunt her nightmares for years to come.

"Never provoke an Addams' wrath."

Ever since that day Millie's taste buds haven't been the same, her mouth and tongue would always start tingling, everything she ate would have a metallic aftertaste when a thunderstorm was bound to appear on the horizon, her mother said that she was so scared that day, that her magic assimilated her fear and created a form of prediction in order to prevent harm. That day came to her mind when she was met with Addams blank stare whilst on her way to the Slytherin table. The dark emotionless eyes seemed to dig up that primal fear from her mind that the cheerful man made her feel that fateful day.

The predatory part of her, the part that salivates when she takes a deep breath and smells her yearmates sweet scent of young healthy meat, took one whiff of the Addams girl and tried to force Millie to her knees to present her neck to the girl in submission with all of its might. Addams didn't smell like prey like all her yearmates did. Addams smelled like a predator. Not a common everyday predator like herself, Hermione Addams was The Predator, the kind that knew they were at the top of the food chain and with good reason.

Millie was determined to stay on the Predator's good side. Looking down in submission, she lowered her head and walked the rest of the way to the seats that were closer to the professors but still on Hermione's side of the table, the hierarchy was clear and she was at the bottom.

"Bulstrode."

Millie inhaled sharply and froze when she heard Addams call her name impassively. Forcing her hands to stop trembling, she gripped them together in a tangle of sweaty palms. Gathering all the strength from her hag side she forced herself to look up to the Addams girl as she mechanically patted the seat by her side. She had to use all her self control to not let her jaw fall on the floor. With wide eyes, she cautiously walked to sit at Hermione Addams' side, more terrified than ever but she knew she was safer than ever, all she had to do now was not to piss off the most dangerous being in the Great Hall.

Hermione witness the fear in the girl's eyes when she looked at her, those were the eyes of someone who had heard of the Addams, she was not entirely sure if Bulstrode had met an Addams before, but she was strongly inclined to think she did by the way she sat so tensely by her side. Bulstrode remained quiet as they watched the rest of their peers being sorted. They were joined by Tracey Davies shortly after Agatha Caddick and Vincent Crabbe.

When Daphne Greengrass was sorted into their house she determinedly walked towards Hermione and stopped by her right side, silently questioning if she was allowed to take the other seat next to her, that nobody had the audacity to request to occupy up to that point, with the other girls choosing to sit at the end of the table where Bulstrode originally had intended to sit, while the boys sat on the other side. Hermione turned, eyebrows raised in ordainment at Daphne until the blonde couldn't sustain the staring match anymore and looked away. Hermione turned her attention back to the ceremony letting her know that she didn't care where Daphne would sit.

Soon it was Neville's turn, he turned and made eye contact with her and she nodded encouragingly at him before he gathered his nerves and made his way to the stool, he saw Addams tilting her chin up and he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders looking at her one last time before Mcgonagall deposited the hat on his head covering his vision.

During all the time he sat under the hat he repeated the mantra 'I'm brave, I can do it. 'in his head. To his relief, it took less than two minutes for the hat to announce he was a Gryffindor, and in his excitement he forgot he still had the hat on his head when he started to make his way towards the Gryffindor table. Only Mcgonagall calling his name made him realise what he did and he trudged back to give back the hat with his face all red in embarrassment whilst the Gryffindors laughed in good nature. He didn't have the courage to glance at Hermione to see her reaction, although undoubtedly she would be glaring at him, he could feel the heat of her gaze on him.

Draco Malfoy was fuming that the Addams girl was sitting in his seat. His father told him that Malfoys had a long standing tradition of being the leaders of their years when at Hogwarts. Rarely was there a family that outranked them, the Blacks were usually the ones above Malfoys, but the Black name was all but extinct, with the last heir in Azkaban. The exception being children from the previous generation, that is, only Draco. And Draco was a Malfoy and a Black, it shouldn't be possible for anyone to outrank him. The nerve of Addams sitting on his seat stung so much. Who did this girl think she was to have the gall to sit there. A nobody, her family name was never once mentioned during his lessons, which meant. 'She is a presumptuous mudblood.'He sneered internally.

What annoyed him further, was that as their yearmates were being sorted into their house, they seemed to accept that this mudblood was the leader, he could see from where he was standing that they all were avoiding her eyes after she stared them down whilst they made their way to the table. It looked like the mudblood wasn't the only one he would have to put in their place. The minute he had a chance to write, his father would be hearing about this.

Meanwhile Hermione noticed the arrogance wash over Malfoy's face, overlaying his not so secret furtive looks and glowering that he was directing at her since the moment she sat down at the table, when Mcgonagall called his name to be sorted. The boy strutted towards the dais, confidently claiming the steps as if a red carpet had been extended only for him to pass, and promptly hoisted himself on the stool. He kept his posture straight and had a condescending tilt on his pointy chin, as if he was the prince that was finally being crowned king and the rest were all his vassals.

Unbeknownst to him, Mx. Cuthbert had been analysing him since his name was called, at each step the boy gave in its direction, its frown deepened. The hat seemed to be appraising the boy when Mcgonagall hovered it above Draco's head, it shrank in on itself trying to stay away from the heavily greased back hair of the boy. It barely touched the blond's hair when it yelled 'SLYTHERIN', giving only enough time to disturb a single strand of greased hair.

Draco smirked victorious as if being sorted that quickly proved something, to whom, Hermione wasn't sure. At least that was something he could and would brag about in earnest, fastest sorting in the entire history of Hogwarts, that and perhaps greasiest hair. No wonder Mx. Cuthbert wanted the least amount of contact with that child's head. Not to mention the amount of nonsense that was most likely swimming around in that boy's mind.

The boy hopped from the stool and marched towards Slytherin's table feeling as if the house belonged entirely to him and he was entitled the respect owed both for his name and his extraordinary fast sorting. His steps faltered however when he himself finally felt the weight of Addams' blank stare. He caught himself holding his breath as she held his eyes hostage with her unblinking dark eyes. Draco felt exposed in a way only his father and his godfather were able to make him feel, and just like with Lord Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape, he wasn't in any way able to win that staring match and had to look away. All the cockyness and entitlement that he felt and was ready to use to banish the girl from his seat, evaporated. For the first time, he felt disgusted with himself for not being able to stand his ground against someone. Subdued but not willing to accept defeat, Draco smacked Crabbe's shoulder to move over so he could sit directly in front of her. He sneered at Hermione, showing her that he would not give up without a fight, the malicious glint of a challenge accepted that lit up in her eyes told him that it wouldn't be the easy fight as he thought it was going to be.

Theodore Nott simply nodded to Hermione and sat without fanfare after he was sorted. Pansy Parkinson on the other hand, was more alike with Malfoy than anybody else. When her self preservation kicked in with the weight of Addams' gaze on her, she aborted the objective of taking the little witch's spot, and since it wouldn't be very cunning to antagonised the Greengrass heiress, she aimed at Bulstrode, convinced that the girl would be an easier target.

Millicent felt someone stepping up behind her. Turning around she saw Parkinson looking down her pug like nose at her. This girl that was almost as tiny as Addams, minus the danger factor, crossed her arms and sneered the most haughty "Move." that Millie has ever heard in her life. Which would be extremely comical hadn't the witch been hailed from one of the Sacred 28. Pansy Parkinson could and would make the rest of her life more difficult than already would be if she didn't do as she was told.

When Millie started to adjust herself, ready to move down the bench, she felt Addams looking at her and once she had her attention her left eyebrow rose in a silent question. "Are you going to let her walk all over you as if she earned that right?". Millicent Bulstrode had to weigh her options quickly but carefully, on one hand she had Parkinson, who could make her life a living hell for the rest of her Hogwarts career if she wanted to, maybe even beyond Hogwarts, just for the crime of inconveniencing her. On the other hand, she had an Addams that both terrified her and welcomed her without a fuss, someone who would guarantee protection throughout all her school education and after if she proved herself to be a valuable ally.

'Sorry Parkinson,' Millie thought to herself, not feeling sorry at all. 'Risking your wrath is more worth it than losing Addams' support, besides…I'm way more scared of Addams than you.'

"No." Was all she said before turning around and ignoring her. Pansy was shocked, her face scrunched up in outrage, the insolence of this girl in front of her. Before she could make a scene however, Hermione turned and glared at her forcing her mouth shut, making her turn in a huff and make her way to sit down at Daphne's side impertinently.

Harry Potter was next. His name being called silenced the hall and the students were incredulously whispering to each other that Harry Potter was really at Hogwarts. Hermione watched the Headmaster leaning forwards with greater interest in the boy's sorting than any other student before him. Potter walked hesitantly to the dais, looking nervously over his shoulder, obviously hating being the center of attention. He seemed to be debating with the hat after it was deposited on his head, she could see him fidgeting and murmuring to himself, apparently oblivious that the conversation was only in his mind. When the sorting hat announced that the Boy Who Lived was a Gryffindor, the lion's table exploded in cheers and applause and a very distinct chorus of two voices shouting "We got Potter! We got Potter!".

Harry made his way to the table quickly, barely noticing the linings of his robes and tie turning to Gryffindor signature colours, choosing to sit down beside Neville who smiled and welcomed him, receiving a grateful grin from the boy. Looking at the professor's table, Harry noticed the Headmaster raising his glass to him, accompanied by a warm grandfatherly smile and a twinkle in his eyes. Shining in approval at his sorting, Harry thought he liked that, someone approving of him.

On Ronald Weasley's turn, the hat startled both him and Professor Mcgonagall by loudly commenting 'Ah, another Weasley…I know exactly what to do with you.' making the ginger boy gulp fearfully. Mx. Cuthbert must have had to announce its thoughts out loud, Merlin knows what kind of a mess was inside that boy's head. At least he had cleaned himself of whatever he had on his face when Hermione and Neville were in their compartment. Weasley's tense posture sagged in relief as the hat declared that his house was to be Gryffindor, apparently it was a family tradition to be sorted there, judging by the amount of redheads present at the table.

Blaise Zabini was the last one sorted, he bowed his head respectfully at her before sitting down at the Slytherin table. He obviously was aware of the Addams, and not in the fear inducing way that Bulstrode knew of her family. His posture speaked of ingrained respect and his expressions of vassalage, he held no desire to fill her position like Malfoy or Parkinson did, in any case, Hermione decided to wait for him to approach her, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

Once everybody was sorted and properly seated, their uniforms magically being adorned with their house colours and emblem on the left side of their chest, Dumbledore raised from his golden throne pulling the attention of all students to him, silencing all conversations.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!" A round of polite applause sounded, quickly quieting down so the Headmaster could continue.

"I'm sure that we are all eager to skip all the talking from the Headmaster and go straight to the feast." Gryffindor cheered the loudest and Dumbledore smiled grandfatherly towards them.

"However, before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words." He continued after a beat of silence. "And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" He finished with a mischievous glint in his eyes as confused clapping ranged out in the Great Hall.

"Well, without further ado." Then he clapped once in a decisive action, that would look odd had not a grandiose feast magically materialised in front of every student in every table. They all began to dig in after a delighted round of applause sounded for the Headmaster's theatric. The hall filled itself with noise that ranged out from students humming with enjoyment from the food and conversing with their housemates. The ghosts made their appearance, startling some of the first years that had never seen ghosts before. The female prefect of their house explained that not all ghosts were present, and their house ghost, appropriately named Bloody Baron for even in death blood glistened on his clothes, was not in attendance this evening.

Hermione observed her yearmates trying to establish themselves amongst each other, trying to determine who would lead the conversation and who would submissively comply with the order. Bulstrode remained quiet at her side, already certain of where her loyalties lied. Greengrass held a perfect posture that without a doubt was drilled into her ever since she could sit on her own, just testing the waters around her with her polite answers to a bratty Parkinson who would simp over the blond girl sitting at her side. Zabini held a mischievous if not flirtatious smirk towards the girls sitting in front of him, Davies and Caddick, who bobbed her heads in accordance to the conversation that was flowing around them.

Malfoy was lordling over the conversation the loudest, whilst Nott remained silent, only nodding every once in a while signalling that he was aware of the conversation. Wendell, Crabbe and Goyle would eagerly spur the blonde boy on, reminding Hermione of a pack of hyenas cackling to each other in excitement when reunited with their pack mates. It was with the security of having people around him who were eager to agree with him that Malfoy committed the error of thinking he was safe enough to try to usurp the leader role by undermining her apparent lack of "good breeding" loudly enough for the rest of Slytherin table to hear, attracting the attention of some of the Ravenclaws from the table next to them as well.

"Honestly, they just let anybody walk into Hogwarts nowadays." He sneered in her direction. "Not even the noble house of Slytherin escaped this time. Hogwarts has really gone to the dogs. When my father hears about this he'll be appalled at how far the standards have fallen."

Malfoy reminded her of the spoiled brats of the normies that lived in the closest town to her home. They would throw loud tantrums like Malfoy was doing to bring attention to themselves, and their idiotic parents would run around to cater to their dimwitted demands. Basically, Malfoy was a spoiled brat whining for attention, how Hermione detested spoiled little hellions.

"I see you still run to daddy to resolve your issues, Malfoy. In my knowledge, children start to be more independent from their parents after they begin to learn to walk." She made a show of looking him up and down. "You made me realise that that is not always the case. Congratulations Malfoy, you've managed to prove me wrong on your first day at school, your daddy will be so proud of you when he hears about this."

She could hear the snickering from the upper years, as well as some of the older Ravenclaws that were paying attention, as red spread on Malfoy's cheeks, even amongst their yearmates there were attempts to conceal barely held in laughter. Hermione waited until the embarrassment on the blond boy's face turned to fury, and as he opened his mouth to rebuttal and most likely throwing insults at her, she interrupted him before he could get in a stride.

"Closed minds should come with closed mouths, Malfoy. Don't you think it's better to let people think you are an idiot, than voice your thoughts and confirm their theory?"

She watched his mouth open and close trying to find a good comeback whilst the laughter rang around him that the others no longer bothered to contain, her eyes bored on his.

"Now, that is quite enough of you bringing negative attention to Slytherin. If you can't bring an original idea to the table and feel the urge of repeating daddy's words for everybody to hear, do everyone else a favour and be quiet. Slytherin has no need for puppets in its ranks, there's been enough of that already."

With that she was finished, anything directed at her from him would be ignored for the rest of the meal. Not that he, or anyone else as a matter of fact, said anything anymore. Her last words rang across the table silencing those inclined to agree with Malfoy when he opened his mouth to talk about standards, undoubtedly reflecting on the trouble that someone that was unfortunately infamously linked to their house had caused. Making the house of the snakes-that was already regarded with mistrust-receive even more negative light, in such a way that they were actively avoided and hated on. The boy was clearly in over his head if he thought he could be a leader when all his thoughts were based on what his father desired.

At the end of the feast, where Slytherin sat mostly in quiet contemplation, Dumbledore raised once again with a grandfatherly smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

"Now that we are all watered and fed, I have a few start of term notices to give to you. First years should note that the dark forest that surrounds Hogwarts is strictly forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

The Weasley twins raised their goblets to the Headmaster in a toast when his mischievous gaze fell on them, laughingly offering a "Hear, Hear!" that got giggles from around them as Dumbledore smiled indulgently at the redheads.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." Receiving a 'boo' in response.

"Madam Hooch asked me to let you all know that Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. For anyone interested in playing for their house teams, a schedule will be pinned on the notice board of your common rooms to let you know when the trials will be held for each house." This announcement was met with cheers from the students accompanied with a round of applause.

"Lastly but not least, this year the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds for anyone who does not wish to die a painful death." A few of the newer students laughed until they realised that he was completely serious. It didn't take long until murmurs and whispers spread across the Great Hall about what could possibly be on the third floor, some in curiosity but most in fright.

That was the wrong thing to say. Clearly, the warning was worded in a way to bring the attention of someone towards it, if it was just a warning to the safety of the students the Headmaster would just forbid it all together, like the forest. It was irrelevant that Hermione was already making plans to go explore the forest at her earliest convenience. Nevertheless, the third floor corridor-that previously held no interest for her-now was moved to the top of her list of interesting places to explore. No one tells an Addams where they were or weren't allowed to go after all.

Unbeknownst to Albus Dumbledore, he had gone and done it, he got her curious.

Notes:

Oh bugger, he got her curious, quoting Good Omens "That was regarded as a bad move."

This chapter has more than 5k words and I'm so proud of myself.

Hermione:1 Slytherins:0 lol

I sense a lot of trauma with the Addams spread across the world xD

Poor Millie, she can't get a break, especially with an Addams in the same house.

Thanks for coming, see y'all next chapter!