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𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚: 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘼𝙙𝙙𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨

Minerva huffed as she paced her empty and dark classroom at Hogwarts. Her emerald green robes swished and moved with every step she took. Her arms were crossed over her midsection in worry, with her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth as she gnawed at the skin. A few strands of her graying hair came out from her tight bun on top of her head, and she brushed them away with her fingers, all while she paced restlessly. It's been only a few hours since she and Dumbledore dropped off poor Harry Potter at his muggle relatives. And in those few hours, Minerva has only had anxious and unpleasant thoughts about what might happen with poor young Harry Potter.

He's just a babe. A helpless one at that. But he's a babe, and he shouldn't live with his awful aunt, uncle, and cousin.

Minerva huffed once more before stalking to her desk, pulling out a spare piece of parchment, her quill, and a pot of ink, before sitting down. She stared at the blank piece of parchment. Her left hand shook as she held the quill between her fingers, unsure of whom to address her letter to. She sighed and let her eyes wander over to the back wall of her classroom, where moving photos of students met her eyes. A smile tugged at her lips as she overlooked each one.

However, one picture stood out the most. In the photo was a tall woman with high cheekbones, pale skin, luscious red lips, with long black hair tumbling down her shoulders. She wore a blue and bronze tie around her neck and a black skirt, shirt, stockings, and shoes. Morticia Frump. One of Minerva's most skilled transfiguration students she'd ever had.

A gasp fell out of her lips and a smile played at her lips once more. A wonderful idea came to her. Who wouldn't be better to trust than Morticia Frump, now Addams? Minerva heard that once Morticia graduated (with O's of course) and she moved to America to visit a cousin or two that lived there and found her husband, Gomez Addams, at a funeral (which apparently he was a suspect in the murder trial). Two years later they married and bought a manor in New Jersey.

Yes, she must write to her. Morticia was always her favorite student. Maybe she can be of help. So Minerva dipped the tip of her quill in the ink and started writing, hoping in every inch of her bones that a miracle will happen.

***

Petunia Dursley hated her sister's son with a passion. She hated how her idiot sister got her and blasted husband blown up, leaving their strange and abnormal son for Petunia to deal with. The boy's name was Harry, and he shared only one thing with her sister. Her green eyes. Everything else about the boy was all his father.

When Petunia opened her front door on the first of November to put out the empty milk bottles, she screamed loudly, when her eyes landed on the small boy wrapped in a blanket. Vernon Dursley, Petunia's husband, rushed down the stairs of their home to his wife, who stared blankly at the boy on their doorstep.

"Petunia? Dear?" he called out, fat arms coming around his thin and frail wife. He shook her, trying to make her snap out of it. She did not. All she could do was stare at the boy who opened his eyes, Lily's eyes. Vernon looked over at the baby on his doorstep and he made a choking noise at the sight.

Did someone leave their god-forsaken child on his doorstep? How dare they! They didn't run an orphanage or charity! His face became purple with anger while Petunia bent down and picked the boy up. A letter that was tucked in his blankets fell onto the ground and Vernon bent ― which was very difficult because of his large gut ― and showed it, Petunia.

A gasp flew from her mouth at the sight of the familiar green ink and seal. She craned her neck, looking to see if anyone was watching them, before dragging her husband into the house and shutting the door. Vernon locked it and Petunia sat Harry down in Dudley's highchair.

"Petunia?" asked Vernon. "What is it?" She sighed and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Let me see the letter, Vernon." he handed her the letter, and she tore it open.

***

Rain pelted against the cracked windows of an old Victorian mansion on 1313 Cemetery Lane. It was a gloriously gloomy Wednesday evening in Westfield, New Jersey. It was a perfect day, according to Morticia Addams (née Frump), one resident of the old Victorian mansion. Morticia was a very tall and beautiful woman, her hair a glossy black, with red-blood lips, and a killer smile. Her eyes held a glow, as if she captured the light of the moon in her dazzling eyes. Her nails were long and red, as if she dipped them in the blood of her enemies. When she walked, she looked like she floated from place to place, giving her an ethereal look, making any transfixed on the woman.

Morticia watched the rainfall, and the thunder rumbled in the sky, her hands clutching the delicate parchment in an elegant script from an old professor at Hogwarts. She read the letter a thousand times, repeatedly, until she memorized it and could recite it without even looking at it. How could she breach this subject with her husband? Of course, she wanted to help, but how could she. She and Minerva were on different continents, different countries. A sigh escaped her red lips, making a man with bronze skin, dark brown hair, and a mustache look up from the paper he was reading.

"Cara Mia? What is wrong, my darling?" he asked, worry etched in his face as he looked at his beloved wife. Morticia turned away from the cracked window and looked at her husband. "Oh Gomez, there's something I have to tell you." She walked gracefully over to Gomez and sat down on her peacock chair. "What is it, my love?"

Morticia inhaled a deep breath before speaking. "Do you remember when I told you I went to a school in Europe?" Gomez nodded his head. "Well, a couple of days ago, I received a letter. A letter from my old Transfiguration Teacher, Minerva McGonagall. She informed me of a situation concerning a baby boy."

Morticia placed her hands on her stomach, rubbing the swell. "Oh Gomez, the boy's parents were murdered and now my old Headmaster left him on the doorstep of his awful aunt and uncle."

"But isn't that good for the boy?" asked Gomez, confusion laced in his voice.

Morticia shook her head sadly. "Normally I would say yes, but I know the boy's family," a sigh escaped the woman's blood-red lips. "They are against everything we believe in. They'll hurt and ridicule the poor boy. And I . . . I just can't stand the thought of it." a tear leaked from Morticia's eyes and before she could even blink her husband Gomez was holding her in his arms.

"Oh please, my darling, not tears." His hand came up and cupped her face. A pleading look in his eyes. "My love, what shall I do to make this feeling leave you?" he asked, desperately. Morticia looked Gomez in the eyes before giving him a small, sad smile.

"My old professor wants us to take the child. To take him as our own and raise him." She looked down at the bump protruding through her black dress before continuing. "I wish to take him in and raise him." She looked back up and met Gomez's eyes. "I wish for us to raise him, to declare him as our own. To make him an Addams."

A smile found its way across Gomez's as he nodded his head. "Then it shall be done, my love. We shall take the boy in. And we'll give him our name."

"Oh, Gomez! Mon Cher!" Morticia wrapped her arms around Gomez's neck and kissed him furiously. Gomez's hands wove into her hair as he kissed her back with fever. As they kissed, Gomez dipped her back slowly, as moans and groans left their throats. Gomez pulled away suddenly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Cara Mia, my reason for living. I love you so."

"And I love you, my love, until the length of days."

***

"I want him gone.''

A glare was stuck permanently on Petunia Dursley's face as she stared at her younger sister's son. Young Harry Potter was lying on the floor in the kitchen, looking around with a curious gaze. "Of course you do," stated Minerva McGonagall, her accent thick with resentment for the muggles before her. "That's why I'm here."

"Good, Petunia and I shan't have any more dealings with the likes of you." Vernon Dursley exclaimed. "You won't." spat Minerva. She turned her head to look at young Harry and smiled at the little boy before turning back to his dreadful aunt and uncle. "Here, I've brought something for you to sign." she took out some documents from the pockets of her robe and handed it to the muggles.

"What is it?" asked Dursley, his meaty fingers were clamped around his coffee cup. "It's a document that's stating you're handing over your custody to another family to become Harry's guardians." Vernon unrolled the document and looked it over. The kitchen was silent except for the quiet coles Harry let out as his green eyes landed on something he was curious about.

"And all we need to do is sign this document and this boy will be out of our hair?" Minerva nodded. "Pardon me, but I thought we needed a judge's approval for us to sign away our rights?" said Petunia, a bitter tone was laced in her voice. Minerva narrowed her eyes at her. "A judge has already signed it, a judge I personally know and who knew Lily and James Potter. She knows what Lily and James wanted for their son," and you are not it was what Minerva wanted to say, but she knew that if she insulted these two hard-headed muggles, poor Harry might not leave this terrible household.

Vernon Dursley gave Minerva a nasty smile before taking a pen out of his vest pocket and signed his name on the line. He handed Petunia the pen once he was done. A jolly expression was on his fat, ugly face.

Petunia shuddered and sucked in a breath before quickly signing her name as well, signing away her custody over Harry James Potter.

Once done, she slides the document over to Minerva, who snatches it and looks over their signed names and the document. With a determined smile, she nodded her head before rolling up the document and sticking it back into her robe pocket.

"Thank you for your cooperation Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, if you don't mind, please give me everything young Harry came here with and I shall take him to his new family."

The Dursleys never stood up so fast in their entire life.

Two hours later Minerva was holding young Harry Potter in her arms, carrying him into her home, with a smile on her face as Harry slept away on her shoulder. Drool was coming out of his mouth and his right chubby hand clenched into Minerva's emerald green robe. Minerva smiled softly at the boy and ran her fingers through his black hair, whispering sweet nothings. In his sleep, Harry smiled, and for the first time in the last week, he finally slept peacefully and safely in Minerva McGonagall's arms.

***

Two days later Morticia and Gomez Addams were standing at the doorstep of Minerva McGonagall's humble cottage outside the small town of Hogsmeade. Morticia knocked softly on the cottage door, her hands twitching nervously. Gomez instantly took notice and wrapped his arm around her middle-back, bringing her body close to his.

"It's all right, Cara Mia," purred Gomez. A charming yet psychotic smile danced at the corner of his lips, making Morticia's back arch ever so slightly. "Oh Gomez," The door to the cottage opened, making the two lovers break their passionate trance of eye-contact. There, standing in the cottage, was Minerva. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight bun, round spectacles were perched on the tip of her nose, her cat-like green eyes sparkled with emotion, and a deep plum cloak and matching robes were on her person.

"Professor McGonagall," greeted Morticia.

"Miss. Frump, or should I say, Mrs. Addams?"

A small smile pulled at Minerva's lips. "Hello, my dear? How have you've been?" Morticia smiled brightly at the old witch. "Unhappy as ever. Have you met my husband? Gomez Addams." Gomez tipped his head at Minerva. "A pleasure to meet you, Professor. Tish hasn't stopped talking about you," A wail echoed through the cottage, making Minerva turn her head to look in her home. With a sigh and small mumble, she turned to look at the husband and wife.

"Mr. Addams, Morticia, please come inside. We have many things to discuss."

***

It was raining cats and dogs by the time Morticia and Gomez were back in America. Lurch was standing outside the terminal, holding up a sign that read ADDAMES in messy handwriting. People who were also waiting for their loved ones were staring at the poor butler, wondering what Lurch exactly was. He looked to be human but was very tall, with pale greenish skin and black hair that was slicked down on top of his head. In their eyes he looked to be the Monster in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, but less grotesque.

"Ahh Lurch, old man!" greeted Gomez as he and Morticia walked towards their butler and friend. Lurch groaned in response, giving them a small smile. "How was everything? I hope gate and the house didn't give you much trouble. You remembered to give the spirit its morning coffee, right?" asked Morticia, as she shifted her hold on the small babe in her arms. Lurch groaned and nodded his head before pointing to the sleeping baby.

"Ah yes, sorry about that, old boy. We didn't have time to explain, but. . ."

"We've adopted a boy!" finished Morticia, turning her head to look at Gomez with a heated gaze. Lurch let out a long groan. He looked between the couple before him, then looked down at the baby boy nestled in Morticia's arms.

"His name is Harry Potter-Addams," said Morticia as she looked down at the boy, a smile adorning her face. "Come Lurch, let's take little Harry home, shall we?"

Lurch drove the family of three in their 1932 Packard Twin Six car to the Addamses mansion, navigating the twisty paths with care and caution, as Gomez and Morticia looked and smiled at their recent addition to their family.

"Oh Gomez," sighed Morticia, as she leaned against her husband. "Unhappy darling?" he asked as he kissed her head. "Oh yes, completely,"

Lurch pulled up the gate, Morticia, and Gomez looked up as the gate opened up. Lurch drove up the dirt driveway and parked. "We're home," murmured Morticia. Gomez opened the door to their car and waited to help his pregnant wife out. She placed her delicate hand on his, awaiting one. "Thank you, Mon Cher," He gave her a loving smile and helped her up the front porch as Lurch opened the door for them.

The husband and wife walked into their home, smiles adorning their faces. "Ahh, you're back! Finally!!" said Grandmama as she walked in from the kitchen, her hair frizzy from the heat of her cauldron. "Yes, we are, and we have a surprise." Gomez smiled at his mother as Morticia showed her mother-in-law, Harry. "We've adopted a boy. His name is Harry." Grandmama squealed in delight. "Oh, look at him. He's so ugly. I love him already!"

Morticia smiled and looked down at the now-awake Harry. His green eyes wandered around the room until they landed on Morticia and Gomez. He let out a squeal before reaching his arms up at them. Tears welled up in Gomez's eyes as he took a deep breath. "Welcome home, my son,"

Next Chapter

𝙈𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙞𝙖 |𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮 𝙭 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧|

𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

This is the story of Y/n Sirius Potter, the twin brother of Harry James Potter, and his journey of finding himself and discovering his purpose in life and becoming part of something bigger than he'd ever imagined, oh and he also might find love with a blond boy called Draco Malfoy.

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐍𝐨 𝐎𝐧𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐊𝐞𝐲𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱:𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝟗¾

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐭

Moodboards

Inspo

Song Recs/Playlist

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙬𝙤: 𝙊𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙖 𝙁𝙧𝙪𝙢𝙥

Harry had everything packed and ready for his trip to England. He checked and double-checked his trunk to make sure he had everything, and placed his travelers’ ID he received from MACUSA in his suit jacket he was to wear tomorrow.

Everything was in order. He had a port key scheduled for 10:30 AM, and was to meet his dear Aunt Ophelia at the British Ministry of Magic. Then after that, together they would go get his supplies for his first year at Hogwarts. Apparently, Aunt Ophelia was excited to see her nephew again and reassured Harry that her eldest daughter was in her second year at Hogwarts, so he wouldn’t be alone.

It amused Harry to no end that his mother’s twin was so different, though she looked the same. They were two sides of the same coin.

“Harry?”

Wednesday stood in the doorway of his room, clutching her doll. He looked at his sister with his cold green eyes and patted the space on the bed next to him. She scrambled in and sat down. Wednesday’s hair was loose and in waves and she wore her long black nightgown. She looked up at Harry and he noticed that his little sister’s eyes were red and tears flowed down her corpse-like cheeks.

“What’s wrong, little spider?” asked Harry. He gave her a concerned look and watched as her bottom lip quivered. “I don’t want you to go,” she whispered. Harry brought his arms around her and held her close as she sobbed into his shoulder. “I-I don-don’t want you to-to go,” she hiccupped. This was the first time Harry had seen her cry and let out so many emotions. His usual level-headed sister, who thought emotions were a weakness and tried her best to remain as cold and distant as possible — broke in front of him.

“Oh Wednesday,” He rocked her back and forth, trying to provide comfort to his beloved sister. “I wish I could stay. I wish I could stay here and play headless dollhouse and show you all the ways to psychologically torture someone. But I can’t,” she looked up, sniffling. “Why not?”

“Because,” he sighed. “Because I need to practice and perfect my magic skills. I also wish to see the school that Mother attended when she was a girl,” he explained. Wednesday nodded her head, sadly. “One day you’ll understand that some decisions have to be your own and you must choose your own path.” Harry kissed the top of her head.

“But you’ll be home for Yule, right?” she asked, hope in her eyes. He nodded his head. “Of course, little spider. How could I miss out on Grandmama’s Chocolate death and Mother’s Yule cake?” She laughed as he tickled her, making her smile of death appear on her face.  “You promise to write to me and tell me all your adventures?”  “I promise.” Wednesday flicked Harry on the nose and scrambled off his bed.

“Night, Harry,” she bid. “Night Wednesday. I hope you’ll have pleasant nightmares.” She gave him a smirk and returned it with his own. He surely was going to miss his little sister and her antics.

•••★•••

Harry waited patiently for his aunt to show up. The office of the Department of Magical Transportation was spacious, yet it felt suffocating. The two Aurors were stiff and didn’t engage in small talk — which Harry was grateful for—and stood in silence. He didn’t mind the stiff nature of the Aurors, but he did mind when their eyes kept flip-flopping between staring at him or the door.

Every time their eyes landed on him, he knew they were staring at the scars that marred his forehead and ran down his left brow and down his cheek. It was something he’d always had as a child, this scar, and he wasn’t at the slightest self-conscious about it. He was used to no-magic staring at him and his scar, always wondering what happened to him and always thinking it happened because his family was the Addames.

Harry didn’t care what they thought in their small minds, but these “Aurors” kept staring at it like it meant something to them. As if they wished they had the scar on their face. It made him want to deploy a smoke bomb and slip out and wait for his aunt at the Atrium in this Ministry.

Finally, after throwing glares at the Aurors, the door opened and an exact replica of his mother walked in. However, she wasn’t wearing her long black dress, or had sharp dipped red nails, or even blood-red lips. No. She was wearing a yellow sundress with white polka dots littering the fabric. Her hair was black but was up in an elegant twist on her head, and she wore white pumps on her feet. Behind her was a young girl with the same black hair as Harry’s own sister, but instead of wearing a scowl, she wore a small smile and wore a light green skirt with a white oxford button-down short-sleeve and had black mary-janes on her feet.

Aunt Ophelia’s eyes were bright, making her black eyes seem like a dark brown, and she smiled prettily at the Aurors and Harry.

“Beloved nephew!!” She pulled Harry into a hug and his body immediately stiffened up. He didn’t like hugs unless he was the one to initiate them. In fact, he didn’t really like to be touched and would rather prefer to keep a distance. Aunt Ophelia pulled back and patted his face, smiling at him. “How good it is to see you! You’ve grown!” Her eyes traveled down the length of his body, inspecting his growth. He was tall for his age, he’s been told that many times. But he was also very lanky.

“Aunt,” he greeted, after realizing his aunt was waiting for him to greet her. She smiled even wider — if that was even possible — before turning to speak with the Aurors. The young girl behind his aunt gave him a shy smile and wave.

“Hello, I’m Beatrice, your cousin.'' She had a quiet demeanor and Harry liked that. Perhaps she would be the tolerable one in his aunt’s children. “I’m Harry,” he said, quickly and quietly.  “I know. I think everyone knows who you are.” Harry gave her an odd look. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” she blushed, her fingers started trembling, and she started making weird patterns on her skirt. “What I mean is that, your scar. Everyone knows who you are because of your scar.” She pointed her index finger at his forehead.

Harry was still confused but was saved by his aunt before he asked his cousin another question.

“Come darlings, let’s get going. We have to shop for both yours and Beatrice's Hogwarts supplies.” Harry shook his head. “What about my trunks?” He asked, pointing to the trunks piled up. Ophelia smiled at him and chuckled.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ve scheduled a few Aurors to take your trunks to my place. I’ve also asked them to place some more protective charms around the property and house. That way, we won’t have any paparazzi or wizards trying to break in and see you, my famous nephew.”

Harry tried to speak, but was interrupted by Ophelia once more. “Now, come along. We must get going if we’re to beat the noon rush. I’d really hate to get stuck in Madam Malkins for hours. That place is terribly dull.”

She ushered her nephew and daughter out of the office and they made their way to the lift/elevator and she pressed a button before a lady spoke in the overhead and they were off.

~~~~

Next Chapter

A Song of Ice & Fire/Game of Thrones Characters I write for:

Jon Snow/Stark

Tyrion Lannister

Sandor Clegane

Tywin Lannister

Jaime Lannister

Eddard (Ned) Stark

Benjen Stark

Brandon Stark

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙍𝙤𝙨𝙚 (Tyrion Lannister x Tyrell!Reader)

Chapters

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

HP Series

Harry Addams (x reader)

The God & The Mortal (god!d.m x mortal!reader)

Metanoia (d.m x male potter reader)