Harry Addams And The Pilosophers Stone - Tumblr Posts
๐ ๐ ๐ฌ ๐ญ ๐ ๐ซ ๐ฅ ๐ข ๐ฌ ๐ญ
๐ฐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ธ๐๐ & ๐ต๐๐๐:
๐๐๐ ๐๐ค๐ก๐๐๐ฃ ๐๐ค๐จ๐ (๐๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐๐๐ฃ๐ฃ๐๐จ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐ญ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ง)
๐๐ซ๐จ๐ฅ๐จ๐ ๐ฎ๐:
https://jessicawhitlockswonderland.tumblr.com/post/659439904331382784/%F0%9D%99%8F%F0%9D%99%9D%F0%9D%99%9A-%F0%9D%99%82%F0%9D%99%A4%F0%9D%99%A1%F0%9D%99%99%F0%9D%99%9A%F0%9D%99%A3-%F0%9D%99%8D%F0%9D%99%A4%F0%9D%99%A8%F0%9D%99%9A
๐๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ญ๐๐ซ ๐๐ง๐:
https://jessicawhitlockswonderland.tumblr.com/post/659541880324980736/%F0%9D%99%8F%F0%9D%99%9D%F0%9D%99%9A-%F0%9D%99%82%F0%9D%99%A4%F0%9D%99%A1%F0%9D%99%99%F0%9D%99%9A%F0%9D%99%A3-%F0%9D%99%8D%F0%9D%99%A4%F0%9D%99%A8%F0%9D%99%9A
๐๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ญ๐๐ซ ๐๐ฐ๐จ:
https://jessicawhitlockswonderland.tumblr.com/post/660145273970049024/%F0%9D%99%8F%F0%9D%99%9D%F0%9D%99%9A-%F0%9D%99%82%F0%9D%99%A4%F0%9D%99%A1%F0%9D%99%99%F0%9D%99%9A%F0%9D%99%A3-%F0%9D%99%8D%F0%9D%99%A4%F0%9D%99%A8%F0%9D%99%9A
๐๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ญ๐๐ซ ๐๐ก๐ซ๐๐:
https://jessicawhitlockswonderland.tumblr.com/post/660779290479198208/%F0%9D%99%8F%F0%9D%99%9D%F0%9D%99%9A-%F0%9D%99%82%F0%9D%99%A4%F0%9D%99%A1%F0%9D%99%99%F0%9D%99%9A%F0%9D%99%A3-%F0%9D%99%8D%F0%9D%99%A4%F0%9D%99%A8%F0%9D%99%9A
๐๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ญ๐๐ซ ๐ ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ:
https://jessicawhitlockswonderland.tumblr.com/post/662355360142721024/%F0%9D%99%8F%F0%9D%99%9D%F0%9D%99%9A-%F0%9D%99%82%F0%9D%99%A4%F0%9D%99%A1%F0%9D%99%99%F0%9D%99%9A%F0%9D%99%A3-%F0%9D%99%8D%F0%9D%99%A4%F0%9D%99%A8%F0%9D%99%9A
๐ท๐๐๐๐ข ๐ฟ๐๐๐๐๐:
๐๐ช๐ป๐ป๐ ๐๐ญ๐ญ๐ช๐ถ๐ผ ๐ข๐ฎ๐ป๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ผ
๐ฝ๐ค๐ค๐ ๐๐ฃ๐: ๐๐๐ง๐ง๐ฎ ๐ผ๐๐๐๐ข๐จ ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ก๐ค๐จ๐ค๐ฅ๐๐๐ง๐จ ๐๐ฉ๐ค๐ฃ๐
(Harry Potter-Addams x Reader)
โ๐๐๐ฎ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐ง๐๐จ๐จ๐๐ ๐ก๐๐ ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฉ?โ โ๐๐๐ ๐ ๐ฌ๐๐๐ฉ?โ โ๐๐๐ ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช'๐ง๐ ๐๐ค๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ ๐๐ช๐ฃ๐๐ง๐๐ก. ๐๐๐ฎ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐ง๐๐จ๐จ๐๐ ๐ก๐๐ ๐ ๐จ๐ค๐ข๐๐๐ค๐๐ฎ ๐๐๐๐,โ โ๐๐๐๐ฉ.โ
๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ช๐ง ๐๐ข๐ณ๐ณ๐บ ๐๐ฐ๐ต๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฑ๐ต๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐บ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฎ๐ด๐ฆ๐ด? ๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ช๐ง ๐๐ข๐ณ๐ณ๐บ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ญ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐๐ฆ๐ฅ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ด๐ฅ๐ข๐บ, ๐๐ถ๐จ๐ด๐ญ๐ฆ๐บ, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐๐ถ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ต? ๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ช๐ง ๐๐ข๐ณ๐ณ๐บ'๐ด ๐ฑ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต๐ด ๐ธ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ป ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐๐ฐ๐ณ๐ต๐ช๐ค๐ช๐ข ๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฎ๐ด? ๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ช๐ง ๐๐ข๐ณ๐ณ๐บ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ข๐ฏ ๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฎ๐ด?
๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ข ๐๐ ๐ท๐๐๐๐ข ๐ฐ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ข๐๐๐'๐ ๐๐ ๐ท๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐, ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ข ๐๐ ๐๐๐ข ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐ - ๐ธ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ข - ๐ ๐๐ ๐ข๐๐??
๐๐ง๐ค๐ก๐ค๐๐ช๐: ๐๐๐ ๐ผ๐๐๐๐ข๐๐จ
๐พ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐๐ฃ๐: ๐๐๐ง๐ง๐ฎ ๐ผ๐๐๐๐ข๐จ
๐พ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐๐ฌ๐ค: ๐๐ฅ๐๐๐ก๐๐ ๐๐ง๐ช๐ข๐ฅ
๐พ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐๐๐ง๐๐: ๐ฟ๐๐๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐ผ๐ก๐ก๐๐ฎ
๐๐ง๐ค๐ก๐ค๐๐ช๐: ๐๐๐ ๐ผ๐๐๐๐ข๐๐จ
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 โ which was very difficult because of his large gut โ 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 (nรฉe 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
๐พ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐๐ฃ๐: ๐๐๐ง๐ง๐ฎ ๐ผ๐๐๐๐ข๐จ
"Three, two,ย one,"
The sound of the mailman's scream reached Harry's ear. The black-haired boy smirked in delight, as he and his two laughing siblings stuck their heads through the bushes of their home, watching as the mailman ran, screaming and waving his hands in the air, as a spider climbed down the mailbox and into his little sister's awning hands.
"Good job, Homer, you managed to scare that man out of his wits," commented Harry as he stood up from the ground, Wednesday and Pugsley following. "How did you know he was afraid of spiders, Harry?" questioned Pugsley as he looked up at his older brother, admiration and wonder in his piercing blue eyes. "Yes, how did you know, Harry?" Wednesday asked in a skeptical tone. Her eyebrows rose in question, as her noose braids (braids he helped her do early this morning before elementary school started) swayed as they walked back to the house.
Harry smirked at his siblings. "Simple. I gave him a ring last week and pretended to be a person from a cruise company, saying he won a free cruise to the Caribbean. I asked him a bunch of questions, where he was from, his favorite color, before asking what he was most afraid of. To which he answered, saying: "Spiders, Iย hateย spiders". Before I hung up on him."
Wednesday gave a smirk of her own. She loved her older brother and his schemes. He was very good at plotting a plan and hatching it. Of course, their mother and father taught him from a very young age.
"How thrilling, who shall we prey on next, dear brother?" she asked. Harry gave her an amused look. "I was thinking, Mr. Tully, he should be easy. Knowing that he's a coward would make my job easier." mused Harry, before they walked up the stairs of their home and opened the door. The three Addamses strode into their home, their dirty shoes creating stains and footprints on the plush carpet in the entryway, right by the winding staircase.
"Children!" said a silky voice coming from the top of the stairs. Standing there in a tight-fitting black dress was their mother. Morticia Addams. Her long glossy hair was in waves, and her arms were crossed over her chest. Her blood-red nails tapped against her arm as she arched a brow at her children. "Have you seen your father? He was supposed to be back by now." Harry turned his head to look at his siblings before shaking his head.
"I'm sorry, mother. We have not. We'll let you know when we see him." Harry gave her a nod before trailing off to the kitchens, where he knew his grandmother would be cooking some delicious dinner. Wednesday and Pugsley tried to follow, but their mother called their names, making them stop. Harry didn't stick around to hear what his mother wanted from his siblings and continued walking towards the kitchens - passing portraits as he went.
There were many portraits of his family. A lot of them were portraits of his siblings, with a few of his entire familyโfather, mother, sister, brother, and grandmother,โand a couple of just his parents; who were usually in a passionate embrace; and a few of his distant relations.
Of course, there was a portrait of his mother and him. It was his favorite. His mother and Harry were sitting in the cemetery, his mother wearing her long black dress and her blood-red lips were pulled into a smirk. Morticia had her hand resting on a toddler, Harry. His unruly black hair was as long and curly as ever, and her nails were running through the locks. He wore black shorts and a white button-up shirt with black suspenders, and in his hands was a butcher knife he stole from the kitchens earlier that day. His pale skin looked sickly and his green eyes were narrowed in concentration with his round glasses perched on the tip of his nose, and a sneer was curled at his lips. The portrait was perfect for Harry, and it made his stomach tingle with a feeling he didn't understand.
After admiring the portrait, he made a mental note to tell Lurch to dust this portrait corridor and make sure this particular portrait was extra dusty. He sighed and ran his hands through his black curls before counting his journey to the kitchens. The closer he got, the better he could hear his grandmother screeching the lullaby song she always sang while cooking. His Grandmother's voice could send a man to an early grave, and the thought of it made Harry shiver in pleasure.
He pushed the doors open and smirked at his grandmother. Her hair was fizzy and in a matted mess, and she wore an apron with blood and rips, and in the pockets of her apron were bits and pieces of body parts and herbs. He could smell witch hazel and herbs brewing in the many pots and cauldrons, and on the walls were recipes and potion recipes tacked up. Dried herbs were hanging from the ceiling and the walls, and glass vials and bottles were stocked everywhere.
"Hello Grandmother," said Harry in a bored voice. Grandmama looked over her shoulder to see her oldest grandson striding into the kitchen. She smirked and clapped her hands together. "Ah! Harry! Come, come! It's time for our lessons." an eager spark was in her eyes as she brushed her white hair back. "Today I'm going to show the art of poison, something that every child your age should have perfected. Tell me, did you read that book I gave you?"
Harry smirked in response. "Of course I did." He laced his hands together and bent them back, cracking them. He was buzzing in anticipation of the prospect of poisoning someone. He knew the basics, but he wanted to learn how to become immune to the poisons and how to get away with murder by only giving the victim small doses at a time.
Poisoning is a natural art for the Addamses. And even though he wasn't born an Addams, he's still an Addams in name and because he grew up in this family of eccentrics and "weirdos". Maybe he could even poison Bradly Chiles โ an annoying boy from his elementary class. He was pretty, blonde, with perfect blue eyes, and a dick. He was a bully and hated Harry. Although, he never tries anything with Harry. Not since the third day of school. Not since Harry embarrassed Bradly so badly, he pissed himself in front of the entire 4th grade. Yes, that was a delightful day. The memory made Henry smirk to himself before he shook himself awake and took in the information his grandmother was giving him.
For the next two hours, Harry and Grandmama were in the kitchen, cutting herbs and roots, brewing poisons, and learning how to cut a mandrake root the proper way. It wasn't until the shrill scream of the alarm in the kitchen did they stop.
"Oh! That's dinner." Grandmama shuffled over to the oven. "We'll continue this lesson tomorrow, Harry." Harry nodded his head. "Okay. I'll go let Pugsley and Wednesday know that dinner is ready." He strode out of the kitchen and passed the portraits and heard his family before he saw them. Wednesday and Pugsley were screaming at each other, trying to see who had the most terrifying scream, and his parents were dancing to Lurch playing the harpsichord. His parentsโas alwaysโsported loving expressions on their faces as they waltz, his mother's head leaning against his father's shoulders.
Harry's face muscles twitched at the sight before clearing his throat.
"Dinner is ready," Gomez stops and turns his head towards Harry, a smirk on his face. "Ah! Harry my boy!" He and Morticia glide over to Harry. Wednesday and Pugsley followed their parents close behind. "Grandmama has demanded that it's dinnertime," he explained.
"Oh, Grandmama, what would we do without her repulsive dinners and demands?" cooed Morticia as the family of five wandered down to the dining room.
โขโขโขโ โขโขโข
It was a horrible Saturday morning. The blasted sun was out, and the birds were chirping, and children were riding their bikes outside. When Harry woke up this morning, he recoiled in disgust at the sight of the sun's rays streaming into his black and bleak room. Poor Wednesday had screamed in terror at the sight.
He sighed and rolled off his bed, donning his black shorts and black-and-white striped shirt, and pulled on his socks and combat boots before striding down the stairs. Lurch was currently dusting the house and as he passed, Harry dragged his index finger across the railing of the winding staircase and saw it covered in dust. He smirked.
"Thank you Lurch," Lurch groaned in response and watched as Harry walked down the stairs with all the grace he learned from his mother, and the confidence he learned from his father. He watched as Pugsley ran around the house from Wednesday, clutching the headless doll she slept with.
"Come back here, you big lump!!" she shouted as Pugsley laughed. Harry's heart softened at the sight.
The doors opened from Gomez's office and Harry watched as Tully slumped away, keeping his briefcase close to his chest. Harry noticed immediately that Tully's suit was ripped in a few places, most likely because of his father beating him once again at their duel. Of course, that's what Harry expected. Gomez Addams has years of Mazurka training and Addams blood running through his veins. He's a natural swordsman.
Tully ignored all the chaos around him and walked out of the Addames home. He didn't even realize that the pet lion; Kitty walked past him and into the home. Purring in contempt. Once the doors slammed shut, Harry smiled and placed his hand on Kitty's head.
"Hello Kitty, pleasant sleep?" the lion purred in response as Harry's pale, long, and spider-like fingers threaded through his mane.
"Harry!! Tell Pugsley to give me back my doll!!"
Harry let his eyes land on his 9-year-old sister. Her black hair was in braids and her eyes were filled with anger and mischief. He knew, once this was all over, Wednesday would play a dangerous prank or use Pugsley as a guinea pig for one of her newest torture devices she received from her subscription: "Torturous Tortue". His mother had insisted she'd get a membership for her 9th birthday.
"Pugsley, why on earth did you outright steal her doll?" scolded Harry. His eyes filled with disappointment. "Haven't I taught better than this? You don't steal the doll, you do something to the doll. Fill it with confetti, or worse, pink glitter." Pugsley looked down in shame.
"Now, Pugsley, give Wednesday her doll back," Pugsley sighed and gave the doll back to Wednesday before he slithered off into the manor. Wednesday smirked before walking off in the opposite direction, a gleam of mischief in her eyes.
Harry smirked and walked towards the dining room where Lurch was preparing breakfast while his mother sat next to his father's chair, opening up letters and muttering to herself.
"Good morning, Mother," greeted Harry. Morticia looked up and gave her eldest a loving smile.
"Good morning Harry, how was your sleep?" Harry kissed his mother's cheek before sitting down next to her. "Oh, it was horrible, filled with night terrors and darkness."
"Wonderful!" she chimed in. Lurch handed Harry a plate full of slop from his Grandmother's brew and he rubbed his hands in glee. His grandmother was the perfect cook.
As he ate his food, Morticia gasped at the sight of a letter. He looked up, his brows furrowing in confusion and curiosity. His mother hastily looked over the letter, reading the address and recognizing her old teacher's handwriting. She smiled softly before looking up at her son.
"Harry, darling, you are aware that we adopted you," started Morticia, as she placed the letter down on the table. Harry stopped eating and nodded his head. His parents never once kept the truth from him, that he was adopted and a mass murderer killed his biological parents.
"Well, my little snake, you have been invited by the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to attend their school." Harry looked down at his ringless fingers. "Is that the same school you attended, Mother?" Morticia nodded. "Yes, I had a lovely time there." She sighed happily.
"The school is in England and we would have to schedule a port key to take you there, and I would have to write to my sister to meet you and house you for a couple of weeks before term starts, and you'll have to do you shopping there as well." Gomez walked into the dining room and sat down next to his wife, kissing her cheek.
"But, I think you'll be able to go if you wish," Gomez looked up at his wife, confusion laced in his eyes. "Go where Cara Mia?" Morticia smiled and looked at her husband. "Oh my dear, Harry has been invited to attend Hogwarts, and I was just explaining to him what we'd have to do to ensure he goes." Gomez looked at his son with pride. "Oh, that's wonderful! Yes, we shall have to make all the arrangements."
"What if I refused?" said Harry, making his parents look at him in shock. "What do you mean, son?" asked Gomez, his brows shot up into his hair. "What if I do not wish to attend Hogwarts?" he repeated, his voice trembling. Morticia caught his tremble and smiled sadly at her boy.
"Oh Harry, this decision is not up to your father or myself. This is yours. You must decide, and whatever your decision is, we shall support you. No matter what." She reached across the table and held his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb on his pale skin. Harry gave his mother a rare smile and nodded his head.
"I wish to go, Mother, Father,"
Next Chapter
๐พ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐๐ฌ๐ค: ๐๐ฅ๐๐๐ก๐๐ ๐๐ง๐ช๐ข๐ฅ
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 travelersโ 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 wouldnโt be alone.
It amused Harry to no end that his motherโs twin was so different, though she looked the same. They were two sides of the same coin.
โHarry?โ
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. Wednesdayโs hair was loose and in waves and she wore her long black nightgown. She looked up at Harry and he noticed that his little sisterโs eyes were red and tears flowed down her corpse-like cheeks.
โWhatโs wrong, little spider?โ asked Harry. He gave her a concerned look and watched as her bottom lip quivered. โI donโt want you to go,โ she whispered. Harry brought his arms around her and held her close as she sobbed into his shoulder. โI-I don-donโt want you to-to go,โ 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 โ broke in front of him.
โOh Wednesday,โ He rocked her back and forth, trying to provide comfort to his beloved sister. โI 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 canโt,โ she looked up, sniffling. โWhy not?โ
โBecause,โ he sighed. โBecause I need to practice and perfect my magic skills. I also wish to see the school that Mother attended when she was a girl,โ he explained. Wednesday nodded her head, sadly. โOne day youโll understand that some decisions have to be your own and you must choose your own path.โ Harry kissed the top of her head.
โBut youโll be home for Yule, right?โ she asked, hope in her eyes. He nodded his head. โOf course, little spider. How could I miss out on Grandmamaโs Chocolate death and Motherโs Yule cake?โ She laughed as he tickled her, making her smile of death appear on her face.ย โYou promise to write to me and tell me all your adventures?โย โI promise.โ Wednesday flicked Harry on the nose and scrambled off his bed.
โNight, Harry,โ she bid. โNight Wednesday. I hope youโll have pleasant nightmares.โ She gave him a smirk and returned it with his own. He surely was going to miss his little sister and her antics.
โขโขโขโ โขโขโข
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 didnโt engage in small talk โ which Harry was grateful forโand stood in silence. He didnโt 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 heโd always had as a child, this scar, and he wasnโt 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 didnโt care what they thought in their small minds, but these โAurorsโ 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 wasnโt 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 Harryโs 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 Opheliaโs eyes were bright, making her black eyes seem like a dark brown, and she smiled prettily at the Aurors and Harry.
โBeloved nephew!!โ She pulled Harry into a hug and his body immediately stiffened up. He didnโt like hugs unless he was the one to initiate them. In fact, he didnโt really like to be touched and would rather prefer to keep a distance. Aunt Ophelia pulled back and patted his face, smiling at him. โHow good it is to see you! Youโve grown!โ Her eyes traveled down the length of his body, inspecting his growth. He was tall for his age, heโs been told that many times. But he was also very lanky.
โAunt,โ he greeted, after realizing his aunt was waiting for him to greet her. She smiled even wider โ if that was even possible โ before turning to speak with the Aurors. The young girl behind his aunt gave him a shy smile and wave.
โHello, Iโm Beatrice, your cousin.'' She had a quiet demeanor and Harry liked that. Perhaps she would be the tolerable one in his auntโs children. โIโm Harry,โ he said, quickly and quietly.ย โI know. I think everyone knows who you are.โ Harry gave her an odd look. โWhat do you mean by that?โ
โWell,โ she blushed, her fingers started trembling, and she started making weird patterns on her skirt. โWhat I mean is that, your scar. Everyone knows who you are because of your scar.โ 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.
โCome darlings, letโs get going. We have to shop for both yours and Beatrice's Hogwarts supplies.โ Harry shook his head. โWhat about my trunks?โ He asked, pointing to the trunks piled up. Ophelia smiled at him and chuckled.
โOh, donโt worry about it. Iโve scheduled a few Aurors to take your trunks to my place. Iโve also asked them to place some more protective charms around the property and house. That way, we wonโt have any paparazzi or wizards trying to break in and see you, my famous nephew.โ
Harry tried to speak, but was interrupted by Ophelia once more. โNow, come along. We must get going if weโre to beat the noon rush. Iโd really hate to get stuck in Madam Malkins for hours. That place is terribly dull.โ
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
Harry Addams
Harry Addams and the Philosopher's Stone
๐๐ง๐ค๐ก๐ค๐๐ช๐: ๐๐๐ ๐ผ๐๐๐๐ข๐๐จ
๐พ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐๐ฃ๐: ๐๐๐ง๐ง๐ฎ ๐ผ๐๐๐๐ข๐จ
๐พ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐๐ฌ๐ค: ๐๐ฅ๐๐๐ก๐๐ ๐๐ง๐ช๐ข๐ฅ
๐พ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐๐๐ง๐๐: ๐ฟ๐๐๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐ผ๐ก๐ก๐๐ฎ
๐พ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐๐ค๐ช๐ง: ๐๐ฃ๐ฌ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ๐๐, ๐๐ฃ๐ก๐ค๐ซ๐๐, & ๐ผ๐๐๐ฃ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐๐
๐พ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐๐๐ซ๐: ๐๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐ & ๐๐ฃ๐ช๐จ๐ช๐๐ก
Harry Addams Pic Set
๐พ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐๐๐ซ๐: ๐๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐ & ๐๐ฃ๐ช๐จ๐ช๐๐ก
More and more Harry realised that even though his mother and aunt were twins, they were not the same. No matter how similar they wereโthough they had totally different aesthetics and viewpointsโhis aunt was not his mother.
Case in point, the home his aunt and cousin live in was bright. It hurt his eyes to look at itโit was different from what he was used to. It looked as if it was plucked from an impressionist painting and plopped onto a piece of land outside Ottery St Catchpole in Devon. Harry narrowed his eyes at the sight of roses with their heads still attached and tulips growing in the front of the house.
His aunt really was strange, allowing those pesky red flowers to keep their heads and not behead them. Thorns really were the much-preferred choice, in Harryโs personal opinion.
As Harry studied the large house, his aunt was rambling on about how theyโhe assumed she and her husbandโbuilt the house after they graduated from Hogwarts and how it was their pride and joy. Beatrice just stood there, silently, as she, too, stared at her home. Harry wondered if she felt the same as he did. The house was just too happy. It reminded him of the houses back home, all of them happy and white, with bright flowers blooming brightly. Harry preferred the dead trees and the tall sentient willow tree that lived on the grounds of the Addams Manor, Ichabod.
โShall we go in?โ Aunt Ophelia didnโt leave room to object, and Harry followed his aunt and cousin inside. If the outside was ghastly, the inside was worse. The walls were painted pastel colours and had splashes of yellow and orange splayed here and there. There was no grey nor black in the house. Flowers practically grew everywhere. And somewhere in the house was the sound of laughter. Not the terrified and sadistic laughter he and his siblings were used to, but joyous and reaching-inducing cheerful laughter. It turned his stomach.
โRichard? Cordelia? Olivia? Weโre home!!โ The cheeriness of his auntโs voice made him sneer. His mother wouldโve never held such a tone. It wouldโve been cold and vindictive.
Harry watched as two little girls, one sporting the same blondeโyellow like hair as his aunt, and the other black hair, dark as night, like Beatrice. Like his mother and Wednesday.
โMummy!โ the black-haired girl jumped into his auntโs arms, andโฆ Harry didnโt understand what she did, but she looked as if she was squeezing his aunt Ophelia. It reminded him of a snake coiling around its victim.
The yellow-haired girl simply stared at Harry. Her blue eyes were studying him, taking in his appearance. He did the same and was repulsed to find her dressed in a horrid pink dress with frills and bows. Wednesday wouldโve gotten shears snipped them off, claiming she wanted to hang herself with the fabric.
โHarry, dear,โ Harry looked away from the ugly, pink-dressed girl. โI would like you to meet your other cousins, Olivia,โ she gestures to the black-haired little girl. Olivia waved and smiled brightly at Harry. While Harry simply nodded in greeting. โAnd thatโs Cordelia.โ What a fitting name for her. Cordelia, what a horrid name for a horrid girl. Harry had many questions for her. First, why did she choose to wear that hideous colour? And second, did she hear of hair dye? Her hair was literally the colour of the sun.
โGirls, this is your eldest cousin, Harry. Say hello.โ
โHello Harry.โ They spoke in unison. โHello, cousins,โ He responded.
โDarling? Youโre back already? Iโd expected you to be gone all day,โ A man bounded down the stairs. He wore a three-piece suit and square glasses on the tip of his nose. He had dark brownโalmost black hairโthat was cropped close to his head.
โRichard, darling, meet my nephew,โ Harry watched as his aunt walked towards whom he assumed was her husband, meeting him at the last step of the stairs, holding her hand out towards him. Richard clasped his hand in hers and Ophelia pulled him towards Harry.
โHarry, this is my husband, Richard. Richard, this is Harry. Morticiaโs eldest boy.โ Richard offered Harry his hand.
Harry stared at the hand, his cold green orbs eyed the piece of flesh in front of him. Realising that Harry wasnโt going to shake his hand, Richard coughed awkwardly and turned to his wife. โUm, h-h-has Ophelia showed you to your room, H-Harry?โ
Harry shook his head. โNo. Not yet. Are you some sort of doctor?โ Richard gulped and nodded. His hazel eyes flickered back and forth to his aunt. โWhy y-yes! Iโm an h-healer at St. Mungos. H-howโd you know?โ
The green-eyed boy smirked. โI can smell it on you. The darkness. The curses. The death. The antiseptic. You smell like death. I like it. Reminds me of the cemetery.โ
Richardโs smile fell from his face, and he cleared his throat. โOh. H-h-how nice.โ A pregnant pause filled the air. Harry could hear the wind whistling outside.
โUh, Harry, letโs go get you settled in, shall we?โ Harry nodded his head and noticed how Ophelia shot her husband a glare. Strange.
Together, aunt and nephew climbed up the stairs, as Ophelia led Harry to the room heโd be staying in until September 1st. Together, they passed paintingsโboth muggle and magical as they walked down a long corridor.
โThis floor is where the girlsโ rooms are, and where your room is as well.โ Harry watched as Ophelia pointed to a few of the closed doors in the corridor. They stopped at the last closed door of the corridor and Ophelia smiled at him.
โHarry,โ her voice dropped an octave. It was no longer the high and bubbly tone she carried. โI know that you arenโt exactly used toโฆโ she waved her hands around. โ--all this. I know that being raised in my sisterโs home, youโll have a different taste of comfort.โ Harry watched her, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he looked at his aunt through his lashes.
โSo, dear, Iโve done something.โ She smiled and opened the door.
Unlike everything in this house, this roomโhis roomโwas black. There was no colour, nor flower tainted the dark oak furniture. It was plain, but reminded him of home. If only he could close his eyes and try to think of the smell of dust coating the home.
He walked in, taking in everything. The walls were bare, but there was room for decoration. The window was covered with heavy curtains, blocking out the light. Perfect for protecting his pale skin. The bed was simple and had striped black and white sheets and a black comforter. It reminded him of his own bedspread back at home. Pushed in the far corner of the room was a bookshelf with a desk next to it. Across from his bed sat a dresser, and behind a door was a small closet.
โI know itโs not much, butโฆโ
โNo. Itโs โฆ not horrid.โ Ophelia cracked a smile.
โIโm glad. Iโll have our house-elf place your belongings in here.โ Harry watched as she left the room, calling a name, before he was left alone to his own devices.
~~~
After dinnerโwhich was strange and unusual (Harry asked where the brain was from the cowโthey had roast beefโand his uncle and cousins stared at him as if he was an alien and Harry sighed and explained that his grandmama always saved the brain for him when they ate animals, which caused little Olivia to turn green.)--Harry saw that his empty room was no longer empty. His books were on the bookshelf, his clothes were hanging and in the dresser, and his desk now had quills in a pot, ink-wells and parchment sat neatly, and the picture of his family sat on the wood next to a simple lamp.
Harry thought this was what his aunt called a house-elf doing and he couldnโt really complain. He was exhausted. The day was eventful, and Harry just wanted to sleep and dream of the night. However, as he got settled in bed, he couldnโt force his brain to turn off.
All he could think about was the wizarding public. How they all reacted to him. He didnโt like itโto be worshipped as if he was a god. All he wanted was to hone his skills and learn how to control his magic and see his parents' roots. Maybe learn something else about them besides their demise.
As Harry slowly started to close his eyes and slip under the effects of sleep, a pair of orbs stared at him. Silver orbs.
A/n:
Short chapter, but I hope you enjoyed.
Forgot to post the book cover of Harry Addams (Oops)
I created this book cover, however, the art (Harry) is not mine.
Art Credit @avendell found the photo on Pinterest