Chapter One
The house might once have been beautiful, but now it stood in ruins, its paint faded and flaking, the yard dry and choked with weeds. A lone dead tree stood before the house, topped by a treehouse just as weathered as the manor. Dumbledore stood at the rusted iron gate, staring at the house, wondering if he was doing the right thing.
Dumbledore liked to think he was an open-minded and accepting Wizard and tried to give most people the benefit of the doubt, but what he'd learned thus far about these Addamses tested even his accepting nature.
At long last, the horror the Wizarding World had endured for the previous eleven years finally ended with Lord Voldemort's vanquishing. The entire world was abuzz with the story of how an innocent, helpless baby had somehow withstood the killing curse and caused the downfall of the most powerful Dark Lord in over twenty years. Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was the name on everybody's lips, at least everyone with magic. The entire Muggle society remained blissfully unaware of the danger looming over their heads for the past decade.
Only a few days ago, Dumbledore had seen fit to place young Harry with his only surviving relatives—at least, that was what he had believed until now. Everyone in the Wizarding world wondered how a defenseless baby could survive the evilest of curses and destroy the darkest of Wizards, each with their own theories. Dumbledore had his theory, which seemed the most likely.
Ancient legends said a selfless sacrifice was the only thing to repel the touch of true evil. James Potter was killed almost immediately by Voldemort, and Lily was found upstairs in the nursery. If Voldemort had offered Lily a chance to live, and she willingly gave her life to save Harry, that could provide a powerful protective charm against Voldemort's powers. Harry must be placed with a blood relative to keep such protection alive.
Dumbledore had left Harry with his mother's sister, Petunia Dursley, and her husband and son, Vernon and Dudley. In a letter, he explained how being placed in their care would protect Harry and them. He knew Petunia had always resented her sister for being a Witch while she was merely a Muggle, but Dumbledore had hoped that those feelings might be lessened when confronted by her sister's orphaned child.
Unfortunately, Dumbledore had received another letter vehemently refusing to allow Harry to live in their natural and normal home. They were adamant about not letting his, as they called it, 'inherent freakishness' infect their home. He'd tried to meet in person to persuade the Dursleys to see reason, but Vernon had nearly threatened Dumbledore with physical violence unless he left their home at once. He was worried he might have to employ questionable methods and charm them to change their minds when Petunia offered another option.
Petunia told Dumbledore that if Harry had to be placed with relatives, he could send the boy to their freakish cousins in the United States. Lily wasn't the only one in their family who was 'unnatural' and 'disturbing.' It took some research, but Dumbledore uncovered a surviving blood relation besides Petunia. Initially, the relatives he'd found seemed no different from the Dursleys, highly respectable and almost obsessively normal. However, further digging uncovered a family tree branch they seemed adamant to ignore.
That was how Dumbledore stood before the moldering mansion in Kingsport, New Jersey. Rumors abounded about the Addamses and their bizarre nature. Explosions and electrical sparks were commonly heard and seen in the house's windows, and unusual sights, sounds, and smells came from every part of the property.
Other Wizarding families were known to live in Muggle-populated neighborhoods, and there were isolated instances of similar reports now and then. Still, the Addamses seemed unconcerned with potentially breaching the Statute of Secrecy. As Dumbledore approached the spike-tipped, wrought iron fence gate, it slowly creaked itself open. It was another common occurrence in Wizarding homes, but to be so open and flagrant about it was highly unorthodox.
Dumbledore stepped through the gate, which suddenly slammed shut and latched behind him. A flicker of worry and doubt went through him, but he pressed on and approached the front door. An antique pull knob was set in the front wall. Dumbledore reached out and pulled the knob gently when the knob suddenly lurched forward, nearly pulling him off his feet. A loud foghorn-like siren blew from the house, and the door creaked open.
A tall, hulking figure stood in the doorway. He had waxy, yellowish skin, a lazy, milky eye, and thin black hair plastered straight across his flat-shaped head. The behemoth was dressed in a dusty black suit that looked like he'd been buried in it. A deep, rumbling grumble came from the giant's lips.
"Follow me." Dumbledore entered the house following the bulky Butler. A polar bear rug was laid across the steps into the lounge; when Dumbledore stepped upon it, it growled. Gingerly, he stepped around it and continued into the lounge.
The walls were papered in an antique ruby vine pattern, and the floor was covered in dusty Persian rugs. A giant stuffed grizzly bear stood to the left of the entryway. On the right wall was a taxidermy swordfish head with a human leg sticking out of its mouth and a swim-fin on its foot. Dumbledore surveyed the rest of the eclectic room. A giant two-headed tortoise stood on an antique table; a samurai armor with a snarling face stood poised with its sword in the air, ready to strike; a street bench and lamp post were beside the fireplace as if taken from a local park; above the fireplace was a stuffed moose head with its antlers twisted perpendicular to each other.
The giant butler roughly took Dumbledore's hat and asked him to wait in the lounge. Smoothing his hair, Dumbledore stood beside the fireplace. The butler had slunk through a hallway draped in dull, golden curtains. A short moment later, a tall, rail-thin, dark-haired lady entered the lounge. The woman was pale as snow, except for her blood-red lips and lavender eyeshadow. Her raven black hair hung like curtains down her shoulders and back. Her black dress clung tightly to her frail body, the hem trailing across the carpets like the tentacles of an octopus. The woman gave Dumbledore a small smile as she approached him.
"Good afternoon, Professor; welcome to our lovely home." The woman offered her hand. Dumbledore gently took her hand and kissed her knuckles; her fingers were cold as ice.
"I am Morticia Addams. My husband Gomez is upstairs; he will be joining us shortly. Please sit." Morticia gestured to an antique chair. Dumbledore sat in the chair, creaking and sinking a few inches. Morticia sat in a vast, fan-backed wicker armchair.
"Can I offer you some refreshment, Professor?" Dumbledore nodded and thanked her. Morticia grasped a pull rope shaped like a hangman's noose. She pulled the rope gently, yet a cacophonous gong sounded, shaking the entire house. Almost as instantly as he'd apparated, the butler was beside Mrs. Addams.
"You rang?" the butler's coffin lid voice grumbled.
"Please bring the tea for our guest, Lurch." The butler, Lurch, grumbled and stiffly walked towards the kitchen. As Lurch left the room, a barrel-shaped man in a blue and purple pinstriped suit came bounding down the stairs.
"Tish, come up to the study; I've got the trains set up for a spectacular wreck!" The man saw Dumbledore and apologized for not noticing that they had guests. Dumbledore assumed this was Mr. Addams. The man had black, slicked-back hair and a pencil-thin mustache. His eyes sparkled with mischief like a naughty child.
"Gomez, dear, this is Professor Dumbledore; he's here to discuss our poor cousin, Harry." Gomez offered his hand and gruffly shook Dumbledore's.
"Wonderful to meet you, old man, welcome!" Gomez pulled over a high-backed chair and sat beside his wife. Lurch came shuffling from the kitchen with a silver tea set, the pot spewing a large plume of smoke. Lurch set the tea tray down and began to pour. He handed a cup to his mistress and poured a black sputtering substance that smoked and bubbled. Morticia took a dainty sip and seemed invigorated. Lurch handed cups to Gomez and Dumbledore and poured the tea. Dumbledore cautiously inspected the cup and took a small sip. The tea was strong and heady, clearing his sinuses in a flash, but overall, it seemed benign.
"Mr. and Mrs. Addams, thank you for your hospitality, but I believe it is time to discuss your cousin." Dumbledore carefully set down the cup and began to speak.
"I assume you are aware of the recent events in Britain with the fall of Lord Voldemort?" Morticia nodded, a saddened look passing over her pale face.
"So tragic, to be orphaned so young, left alone in this cold world, it's positively cruel." Gomez turned to his wife.
"Oh, Tish, you know how it affects me when you talk like that." Dumbledore assumed the man was upset by his wife's words, but instead, he seemed aroused and began passionately kissing her arm. Morticia smiled at her husband and asked him to wait until later.
America had remained untouched for the most part by the taint of Voldemort's forces, but the growing darkness in Europe had threatened to cover the whole of the world if left unchecked. The reign of Grindelwald had nearly torn apart the Wizarding World, and it had looked like Voldemort's would have been twice as terrible. It was practically a miracle that Voldemort's power had been ripped from him when it had.
"On the night of Halloween just past, Voldemort invaded the home of James and Lily Potter to murder them and their young son, Harry. Lily and James opposed Voldemort's reign, so he came to destroy the threats they posed. Regrettably, he killed Lily and James with ease, but somehow, upon turning his wand on young Harry, his curse rebounded and destroyed him, leaving the boy with nothing but a small mark on his forehead. The curse obliterated Voldemort's physical form and destroyed most of the house. It is a miracle poor Harry survived with the small cut he received from the Death Curse." Morticia looked thoughtful at this.
"You say that he was destroyed, Professor, not that he was killed. If Voldemort were as powerful as they say, he surely would have turned to dark and ancient magicks to ensure his survival." Dumbledore was taken aback at this kind of insight. Most of the Wizarding World believed Voldemort was dead and were more than content to think so. Dumbledore knew, however, just how twisted and dark Voldemort's thirst for knowledge and power had grown, and he feared that his downfall would merely be a temporary setback for the Dark Lord.
"I believe that Voldemort was stripped of his powers and physical form, but his spirit lingers still, not a ghost so much as a shade, a wraith-like figure, waiting for a chance to return. That is why Harry must be placed in a familial setting. If Voldemort still exists, he will seek revenge and rally his remaining forces to find the boy who defeated him. With the aid of a blood protection charm, Harry would be practically invisible and untouchable to Voldemort and his followers. I tried to place him with his mother's sister, but they refused to take him in, which is why I have come to you." Dumbledore hoped what he would say next would not result in a repeat of what happened with the Dursleys.
"I had hoped Lily's sister, Petunia, would accept Harry as her own, but she and her husband are vehemently prejudiced towards magic and other things that contrast with their perceptions of normalcy." Gomez and Morticia's faces darkened at the mention of this. Dumbledore worried they were already making their minds up, and he feared it would not be in his favor.
"The family that Harry would be placed with would benefit from a strong blood protection charm and other defensive spells to ensure his and their survival. I understand this is quite an imposition, but I assure you that if you were to take him in…"
"If we take him?" Gomez exclaimed. That quiver of worry shook through Dumbledore.
"Why, my dear fellow, of course we shall take him! To deny him would be an unforgivable betrayal of honor and blood." Morticia nodded, crossing her arms.
"To think this Petunia would refuse to take in her nephew? She ought to be flogged for it!" Dumbledore breathed a sigh of relief and began to finalize details with the Addamses. The family was certainly strange, but most Wizarding families were odd. Over the rest of the afternoon, Dumbledore was informed about some of the Addamses' magical heritage.
To Dumbledore's regret, most of the Wizarding world still subscribed to the pureblood ideology that Wizards with little to no Muggle ancestry were superior to others. Even breeding with inhuman magical beings was considered highly distasteful. The Addamses were the exact opposite of Purebloods. Many members of the Addams clan came from magic, but not all were human. The Addamses seemed proud to be related to hags, trolls, vampires, and werewolves. The amalgamation of various breeds of magical, non-magical, human, and non-human had produced a rather unorthodox and chaotic connection to magic.
Dumbledore liked to think he was more enlightened than other Wizards who held onto the old-fashioned ways, but even he was taken aback by some of the members of the Clan Addams. He hoped he wasn't making a mistake, leaving little Harry with these unusual people, but truth be told, he was at the end of his rope.
Dumbledore returned to England to prepare to bring Harry here to America. For the time being, Harry was being kept at Hogwarts under the watchful care of the school matron, Madame Pomfrey. Most of the staff had come to care for the little child, visiting him often in the hospital wing. Professor McGonagall had been vehement against placing Harry with the Dursleys, and it seemed she was right. She tried to convince Dumbledore to let Harry stay at the school, but Dumbledore insisted the blood charm would be the best option for his protection.
Two days later, Dumbledore returned to the Addams' house with Harry and Professor McGonagall. Minerva had tried one last time to convince Dumbledore to let Harry stay at Hogwarts, especially after seeing the Addams house and the clan who had come to greet them.
Mr. and Mrs. Addams were there with their two young children, a little girl as pale and dark-haired as her mother with braided pigtails and a black pinafore. A young boy, younger than Harry, was held by a rotund, hairless figure in a black, fur-trimmed trench coat with wild eyes and a mad grin. Beside Mrs. Addams was a woman the perfect image of how Muggles perceived Witches, with long, stringy, grey hair, a crooked and pointed nose, hairy warts, and draped in a moth-eaten shawl.
Dumbledore handed Harry to Mrs. Addams, who embraced the swaddled babe and smiled warmly at him. The family crowded around to look at their new addition, then proceeded back into their moldering mansion. Dumbledore hoped young Harry would be safe in his new home and wondered what kind of Wizard he would become, with the Addams family as his influence.