Horatio Addams goes power mad - Gitchy

Chapter 1 Chapter Text

Down a disused, dusty road that split into tributaries of itself which had once been the planning site of a sprawling suburb in the middle of New Jersey, a dusty, outwardly disused house sat, like a frog on a log. If we were going to be kind, the house was a manor. The manor, as it was, was perfectly content being where it was, having existed as the locals moved away over time. That didn’t matter, it still had occupants.

One otherwise unimpressive day, the manor was focused on two out of place beings, walking down a nearby street past the fence, one in an old gray robe with a beard to rival Cousin Itt, the other in a much more elegant green dressrobe, with a pointed hat whose brim couldn’t quite stand the weight of the fabric that made it up. The two were alternately watching the manor, and the sky to the east. The manor itself was built with the front door to the south, for magical reasons, and the front wall was intentionally imposing.

“There’s nobody left willing to take him in, Albus!”

“Of course there is! Lily’s sister and I made a pact when the boy was born.”

“Albus!” The witch hissed, grabbing the older man’s robe, “That woman is a menace! And she married into a family that created more menaces! The only choice you have is to hand the boy over to his parents’ closest relatives!”

“Minerva! I’m surprised at you. You don’t trust my plan?”

“Trust is a hard-won thing nowadays, Albus. With everything that has happened in the past few hours, I’m sure you can understand why getting him out of Britain is the safest for his life? Or are you planning to throw him to the Deatheaters, scattered and directionless though they may be?”

“And you trust this manor’s residents more freely than me handing the boy to his direct family, that the blood wards might keep him safe?”

“Albus Dumbledore-!” was all the old witch managed to get out before the sound of a motorbike and sidecar screamed down out of the sky.

Both turned to the newly arrived half giant, sitting astride the motorbike, looking ridiculously outsized compared to the method of his travel.

“I trust there was no difficulty in finding the house, Hagrid?” the grey robed wizard asked.

“Not much to it but to fly directly west, Professor Dumbledore, sir.”

“And the boy?”

“Li’l tyke fell asleep somewhere over the ocean, but he’s in the sidecar, happy as can be, sir,” Hagrid turned to collect the baby from the side car, swaddled in a very peculiar blanket that had been made in parts unknown. The half giant gave the baby a very gentle tap on the forehead with one of his massive fingers, “Cor, bless ‘im, sir, still asleep.”

Minerva reached her hands up to Hagrid, “I’ll take him inside, I daresay the patriarch of the house won’t be terribly happy to see you on his stoop, Albus.”

Albus harumphed before nodding up to Hagrid, who very carefully handed over the bundled child.

“Why’s the yard all rock and stone and dead plants, Professors?” Hagrid asked, since he could see over the fence.

“A good question, Hagrid, perhaps Minerva knows the answer?” Albus turned to face the witch accusingly.

Minerva hefted the bundle into the crook of her arm before looking at Albus with a withering glare, “Of course I know the answer. The matron of the manor doesn’t like having outside plantlife near her creations. Or, depending on how you look at it, she finds beauty in death. No lawn means no reason to water, and thus, no reason to come out and exist in the midday sun, belaboring to keep the yard tidy. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

The green witch moved to separate from the other two in her group, stepping up to the wrought iron gate stretched between the two ends of the stone fence, watching as parts of the grillework slowly animated into eyes, and then a mouth below, and only then did Minerva start to feel the force of the gate’s repellant charm trying to work on her, to get her to go away.

“No visitors, well wishers, or salesmen.” the gate proclaimed.

“A fantastic start, Minerva!” Dumbledore snarked behind her.

“Minerva? I know that name. One moment please,” The gate went silent for a long moment, checking the name against the list of those allowed to enter the manor’s grounds. “Are you, by chance, Minerva McGonagall?”

“I am, indeed.”

“Please proceed to the front door, Lurch will greet you momentarily.” And then, the wrought iron gate swung inward, granting Minerva and the bundle free passage to the grounds.

Minerva strode with purpose up along the gravel driveway, briefly stopping to look at the dusty black hearse parked just beyond the bend before turning to climb the few steps up to the massive double door, her gaze drifting up to the widows walk far above her head. The manor reminded the witch of a sort of castle, not unlike Hogwarts, only made of wood, which she could only imagine wouldn’t stand up to any sort of siege if that had been the only thing holding the house up. Even just outside, she could feel charms surging back and forth across the property, charms that would make any full grown witch or wizard shudder in fear just to think about.

But, such was the way of the Addamses. And it wasn’t entirely unexpected. The Addamses were extremely old magic. Older than the longest family lines that were still around in Magical Britain. Rumors ran rampant that the Addamses had their dab hands in building much of magical Britain from the very start. It was possible they knew the founders, some said they might even have known Merlin.

Minerva’s attention snapped to as the front door opened to a tall, blue skinned man who would have rivaled Hagrid in sheer size. Thick bushy eyebrows framed a drawn face around bright green eyes that focused right back on the witch, and then, briefly, on the bundle in her arms as it cooed.

“Lurch? Who is at the door?” A soft, seductive voice wafted out from just behind the blue man, and though Minerva couldn’t see her, she could absolutely recognize her friend’s voice. And immediately had to tamp down the rising urge that always came around when Morticia was near.

“Morticia? It’s Minnie.” Her brain was slightly scrambled from the maven’s energetic field practically oozing around her, trying to drown the unwary in her presence.

Luckily, Minerva had been subjected to Morticia’s ambient aura for years back in school. So, she had learned to at least temporarily distract it. Unfortunately, she frequently found the easiest method of completely clearing the corrupted love haze was to get blind stinking drunk. If the witch didn’t know better, she would’ve sworn Morticia was a Veela. The woman wasn’t, she was something else equally dangerous, if not more so.

“Minerva! Come in, come in.”

Lurch pointed a massive finger out to the gate, where Albus and Hagrid were watching in confusion, and grunted gently toward the manor’s maven.

Morticia moved in closer to the door to look where the butler was pointing, “They’re with you?”

Minerva pursed her mouth into a line, “In that I managed to talk them into this plan? Yes,” Minerva dropped her voice to a whisper and leaned in slightly, “Beyond that? Not entirely sure at the moment. Albus pulled some very sketchy plans out of his beard this past day,” The witch leaned back, holding up the bundled baby, “James and Lily are dead, as is the Dark Lord, if the rumors are true.”

Morticia focused down on the sleeping child, sighing deeply for a moment, “Come in, I’ll call Gomez and we can discuss freely. Lurch, once she’s inside, lock the gate and bring our guest some brandy, to take the edge off. She has traveled all the way from England, after all.”

Morticia turned to sweep her way toward the main staircase that took up the majority of the entry hall, lifting her elegant hand up toward the manor’s ceiling, releasing an inky black crow from her own magic, which flew up beyond Minerva’s eyesight almost immediately.

Minerva, for her part, stepped into the manor, doing her best not to run directly into the brickwall that was Lurch. She knew better, not to mention it would be… inappropriate. Behind her, Lurch turned an oversized key stuck into the wall beside the door, creating a satisfying ‘CLUNK’ that seemed to soothe Minerva’s nerves. There was no going back at this point. If the Addamses didn’t take Lily and James’ son to raise as their own, Minerva would have to return to Dumbledore a failure, and the boy would most likely go to live with his aunt’s family.

“Minerva! What a terrible day to see you on our doorstep. I hear there’s been sightings of Death herself over your side of the pond?”

Minerva squirmed, feeling the only thump that have ever managed to fully stop her from giving in to Morticia’s aura all those years ago. Gomez Addams, dressed in a smoking jacket and slippers striding easily down the stairs.

“Yes, Gomez, quite a lot of sightings of Death, as you put it. Lily, James, Peter, you know who…”

“You’re quite protected from his trace here, Minerva, if you want to get it out?” Gomez faltered briefly, “Lily and James are both dead?”

“Unfortunately so, Gomez, that’s why I’ve come here today.” Minerva gestured with the bundled child.

Suddenly, the patriarch was standing before Minerva, looking down at the sleeping baby, “A scar?”

“He took a killing curse to the face and survived, Gomez. That he only has a scar is quite remarkable, considering he should be dead.”

Gomez looked at his hands for a moment, thinking.

“Gomez?” Morticia whispered.

“He is an Addams. Which gives proof to Lily’s theory.”

Minerva looked taken aback at the statement, “You can tell he’s of your bloodline just by looking at him?”

“No, it’s the ‘surviving the killing curse’ part that marks him an Addams. He will need tutelage that only our family can provide. What are Albus’ plans for the boy?”

“He was going to drop Harry off on Petunia’s doorstep and hope that would mold him into a force for good. Beyond that, he expects Harry to attend Hogwarts when he comes of age. He hasn’t divulged anything else.”

“Tish? Thoughts?”

“There’s always room in the manor, and we can raise him, and he will make his own decision when it is time to join a school. Tell Albus the other option is we could just come back and rearrange all of his plans if he doesn’t like that idea.”

Gomez lifted the baby out of Minerva’s arms, just in time for Lurch to arrive with a snifter of brandy, which he offered to the witch.

Minerva accepted the liquor gratefully, taking a quick, full throated gulp to start the process of deadening Morticia’s aura. “And if Albus doesn’t like those terms?”

“In short? He shouldn’t have coddled a juvenile delinquent. Or, we could go to his other big mistake?” Gomez was just pulling threads for the fun of it at the moment, preparing to weave together a plan if indeed Albus did object, not that the old goat could do anything to the family. Addams magic was much more robust than the Dumbledore line’s thin and spindly grasp of magic.

“So, you will take Harry and raise him among magic?”

“Of course, Minerva. We will raise the boy properly. If he does deign to attend Hogwarts, he will be under our protection.”

Minerva took an awkward drink from the brandy snifter, to settle her nerves, “As far as I am concerned, I agree to the terms. I cannot speak for Albus, not at this point.”

“Albus holds a grudge, I hold an entire warplan. I could destroy him with a few well placed articles. It is just his current status as a bug beneath my wingtips that is protecting him.” Gomez shrugged, turning to hand the bundled baby to Morticia.

“Any chance you have… found a lead on your brother…?”

“I have seen his mind. The problem is, he isn’t aware of where he is. So I can’t guide him home easily.” Morticia offered, resting one clawed hand on her husband’s shoulder as his head dropped down in memory of Fester.

“We will find him! And he will be reunited with the Addams clan! And then… Mamushka!”

Minerva looked up at the sudden strike of lightning somewhere nearby at Gomez’s proclamation. Out of a clear bright sky, if it hadn’t changed while she was inside.

“Of course, when we do hold the Mamushka, you will of course be welcome to attend, Minerva… if you desire to join the Addams clan?”

The Scottish witch blushed, from the mixture of booze running through her and the sensual way in which Gomez had invited her into the fold. The man had a natural charm that was only enhanced by the passion he put into everything he did.

Minerva withdrew into her thoughts briefly before finally admitting, “Indeed? Perhaps it is finally time to make a more decisive gesture and thumb my nose at Albus’ ridiculous non-aggression ideals. As well, I could quite easily keep an eye on Harry if he decided to attend Hogwarts.”

“The… power fore-spoken in the name Harry suggests he’s going to be a very powerful leader… or a house guardian. I can see great things in his future. Still, tis a pity Lily already chose his name. A proper Addams name could keep him much safer. Any thoughts, Gomez?”

“Of the moment? No… though we could weave an occlusory charm around his name, that would at least protect it from being everywhere before he’s quite ready to come into his own. Other than that, old Uncle Horatio Addams’ line is ready for a new addition…”

“Horatio Addams…?” Minerva was ever so slightly lost, but she was valiantly trying to hang on.

“Harry would be the… fourth to take on the name. It comes with some rather illustrious magical power that should go well to protecting Harry from those who might try to control him.”

Minerva sighed yet again, “I shall update the List to be on the lookout for Horatio Addams IV, then?”

“Of course, Minerva, you don’t have to worry for another ten years, and by then, he should have a decent pre-education, being part of the family, of course.”

Late September, 1986

Young Horatio Addams was well known to follow his older brother around the manor, always eager to look over what Puggsley was trying to do. Today, Puggsley had guided his younger brother to the family lounge, where a tall lady in a very old matronly black dress stood, gloved hands resting on a folded umbrella with a carved handle.

Morticia was seated in a wingback, knitting something with some very coarse wool yarn, looking up every so often to make sure the visitor was still there, and then right back to the knitting.

“You are Horatio Addams?” The tall lady asked over Puggsley’s head.

“Yes, problem?”The six year old responded.

“No, no, no problem,” The tall lady knelt down to be closer to Horatio’s height, sitting back on her heels, “I am here to tutor you for today.”

“Your name?” Horatio was intrigued by the lady, and hardly noticed when Puggsley moved over to sit near Morticia.

“Pardon, my name is Mary. Now, would you prefer I ask you questions face to face? Or may I rummage in your thoughts and find them myself?”

Horatio squinted, already fairly discerning about people. Mother didn’t appear to be concerned. And Father was just as likely to throw the child in the deep end to make him experience danger. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for the family. Horatio happened to have a wound through the palm of his right hand from where his older sister ‘Wedday’ had managed to catch him and Puggsley off guard and gotten through their shields with a thin, swift knife.

“Hmm… Trust you.”

“Bravo, Horatio, now, look up just slightly for me?” The moment the toddler’s eyes locked with Mary’s, she jumped into his mind, shuffling her way through the spiky, unsorted piles of new experiences. “Interesting. There is so much in here that shouldn’t yet be. I really shouldn’t be surprised, based on what your mother told me about you.”

Mary strolled through Horatio’s mind scape, putting a gloved hand into her blouse to withdraw a length of chalk as she mentally mapped out his lines of power, eventually deciding she was located centrally enough to start adding runes of her own design on the floor of the toddler’s mind scape, “These runes are only meant to be temporary, at least until you can carve them in on your own. They can protect you from being the victim of legilimency, which is what I used to pop into your head. Once you have control of your magic, either you can guide it to make my runes permanent, or I’m sure your mother can get in contact with me once again to have my guidance in walking you through the process.”

“So… I could push you out the moment you finish drawing?” Horatio’s internal voice boomed at Mary from everywhere.

“The word is ‘inscribed’, young man, but yes, you absolutely could. All you need do is channel a little bit of energy into the chalk and I will be forced out, as will anyone else you don’t want in your head, if the situation comes up later.”

Mary gave Horatio a moment to decide if he wanted to push her out, sitting there in the silence for a good few minutes, before finally continuing on when she found herself still ensconced in the toddler’s mind scape. “So, tell me, young man, what’s on your mind of late?”

There was much hemming and hawing of the mental variety as Horatio thought around the question, testing the length and breadth of the words, “Is it strange that Wedday’s wound isn’t healing? Or that it seems to be… increasing my ambient power?”

“I’m afraid I’m not much for physical healing, young man, I’m more an emotional healer. Though… I have heard rumors of that sort of magic… Does the wound hurt?”

“No, it kind of ebbs and flows when I use magic, otherwise, it feels like it did before it was stabbed.”

“Interesting… hmm, what are your thoughts on your family?”

Horatio looked up at Mary, trying to figure out what she was expecting from him.

“I’m expecting your genuine thoughts on your family. I promise, your secrets are quite safe with me, young man. I’m just trying to get a read on how you’re taking to living with the oldest magical family in and out of recorded history?”

Horatio twisted, wondering how she knew what he had thought, and then mentally brought up a tableau of his family, with Father all the way on the left, next to Mother, and then Wedday, Puggsley, then an amorphous blob that Mary couldn’t identify followed by the hunched up old witch everyone in the manor called ‘Grandmama’ all the way on the right. “I’m worried, for Father… he has become… morose of late, perhaps because October is nearing, and that’s when he lost his brother?”

“You worry for your father?”

“He’s spending much more time in his train room lately. That always means he’s in a dour mood. I know he loves us, unconditionally, I just… wish I could do something to help him break out of it sooner…”

Mary raised an eyebrow at this statement, “What, pray tell, do you know about your uncle Fester?”

“Family legends, mostly. Very cunning, very shrewd, loved to play with electricity. He and Father were inseparable in their time at Hogwarts, and then… something happened, and uncle Fester left to try to… I don’t know… restore honor to his name? He didn’t tell anyone when he walked out into that dark night… he packed up a suitcase and just left.”

“Seems you know most of the story. The only thing I could possibly add to it is that Fester got his hands on a Time Turner in… sixth year, and somehow managed to overload it, creating what is colloquially known as the Shattered Hallway, down near the Slytherin Commons Room. At the end of the year, the brothers came home for the summer, and Fester packed up and left, whereas Gomez, who mourned for his brother, returned to Hogwarts for his final year, having lost much of his zest for the school. Albus took every opportunity to remind Gomez that he and Fester were little more than juvenile delinquents, and Fester got what he deserved.”

“So… why would I want to attend Hogwarts?”

“You know that you’re going to be given the chance to choose where you wish to attend, in five years?”

“Mother has told me as much, yes.”

“You could attend Hogwarts specifically to show up Albus, high and mighty as he is. Even at your current skill level, you could very well beat him at his game. Think what you’ll be able to do with another five years. Just… something to think about. Now then, your thoughts about your Mother?”

“She’s gravid. Just to throw that right out there.”

“Gravid is more used for animals, young man. The word that you want is pregnant.”

Horatio blinked, “Not for what she is. She has shown what’s behind the glamour.”

“Ah, do you fear your Mother?”

“No, she’s also teaching me how to mimic her aura, and they appear to cancel out.”

“It will also cancel out the Veela Aura if you ever happen to meet, say… your cousins in Paris.”

“Spoken like a lady who knows something.”

“Indeed. Perhaps in a few years.”

“This is one of those, ‘I’ll understand when I’m older’ things, isn’t it?” Horatio humphed softly, he had been told several times that he would understand when he was older, mostly from Puggsley and Wedday when he was getting underfoot and asking too many questions.

“Perhaps.” Mary had a slight, almost imperceptible smirk to her lips.

“No idea why Puggsley thinks I don’t understand explosives. Mix equal parts sulfur and saltpeter, grind them in a pestle, pour the powder into a container… light, and get away. Oh no. Much too complex.” Horatio rolled his eyes at the end of his statement.

Mary had a tight grimace on her face, “We’re getting off topic. And, as I have no actual training in explosives, I can’t really guide you there. So, back on topic, do your siblings treat you well? Let’s start with Wednesday, since she apparently decided to stab you…?”

Once again, Horatio took a moment to regard Mary, “Oh! You’re a social worker!” It wasn’t a question.

That caught Mary briefly, but she rallied, “I am, as you say, a social worker, for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Seeing as you are a British citizen, with the equivalent of dual citizenship, it was thought prudent that I should check up on you.”

“Eh… what, pray tell, is your blood status?”

The grimace tightened ever so slightly, “Internal. Is that important in the moment?”

“No, no, just testing how you would respond. That out of the way, I harbor no ill will toward either of my siblings. Wedday did stab me, yes, but, look at me, I survived, and it taught me several things… I recover almost immediately from stabbings, and I’ll learn to keep my guard up more. Puggsley appears to be floundering in that state between ‘I know everything I need to about my familial magic’ and, ‘I can’t wait to go to school and learn new things to upset my sister and parents with’, though I fear he might also be suffering the way Father is. He hides away in his room, and then, for the next few hours, I hear banging… irregular banging.”

Mary went bright red through the cheeks, “You… do?”

Horatio shrugged, “Out of place noises aren’t… unnatural around the manor. I just… assume Puggsley is wrestling with something he dragged out of the moat.”

“Right… who is the amorphous shape next to Puggsley in the line up?”

“That’s not a nice way to talk about Grandmama!”

Mary tapped her face in response, “Between Puggsley and Grandmama?”

“Oh! Oh! That’s a representation of my future younger sibling, since Mother is pregnant. I don’t know what he is going to be like yet, but I do know I won’t be the youngest of the family any longer, and I’m not sure how to feel about that.” Horatio turned to frown at the misshapen lump.

“So, younger sibling is an unknown for the time being… how do you feel about Grandmama?”

“She likes to sneak me blood cakes when she’s cooking. And the kitchen always smells of magic, loose magic.”

“What does loose magic smell like?”

“Ozone and the dark of night.”

“I was unaware that magic even had a scent. So, we have already spent a good part of the day in your head, we might as well wrap up, if you ever need my assistance, I will leave you my contact.”

“Did you attend Hogwarts?” Horatio asked.

“Indeed, Ravenclaw through and through.”

“Was that desire for me to upend Dumbledore’s… rule an earnest desire?”

Mary frowned in return, “Perhaps…? I would never disagree with the idea of shaking up the lesson plan at Hogwarts… only six years ago, Magical Britain was shaken out of their stupor for a month, and then they immediately fell back into that stupor, and now they try to pretend that it never happened. You are a physical reminder that that month happened, and they need a reminder and a kick in the pants!”

“Very passionate, miss. I will take your passion into account when I choose the school I shall be attending.”

Mary’s appraisal of the boy flipped once again as she removed herself from his mindscape, reaching out to grab him with her physical hands so he wouldn’t fall as he came to. When they had gone into his mindscape, it had been midday, now, the night had fallen, and a deliciously dark thunderstorm with pouring rain had moved through to encompass the night.

Still kneeling in the middle of the lounge, Mary pulled her carpet bag around from behind her, snapping it open decisively before shoving her arm in up to the shoulder, digging in a place Horatio would have assumed would have been in the floor if he couldn't feel the magic roiling off the carpet bag. “An Extending charm?”

Mary stopped, the boy just kept surprising her, “With the depths of your knowledge? You could be a Ravenclaw as well. Indeed, it is an extending charm. A very, very old one at that.”

From the corner of the room, Morticia’s silken, deadly voice cut in, “While we would not be upset if he did end up in Ravenclaw, most Addamses end up in Slytherin.”

“This is, of course, presuming he ends up at Hogwarts. And, for my own curiosity, are there any houses you would be upset for him to end up in?”

Morticia turned her attention away from the almost completed knitting to look at the social worker, “No, as far as I am concerned, he would be a leader among any house he joined in this theoretical. Most of his trouble will come from Albus if he decides to attend Hogwarts.”

“That is one possibility, but most of his trouble could come from attending and being the wedge in British magical society that he is very clearly going to be,” Mary pulled her arm out of her carpet bag, holding a business card out to Horatio, waiting until the child took it before diving back into her bag. “I know I had a stack of pamphlets in here… one moment, Morticia.” Mary twisted, shoving her head into her bag, followed shortly by her other arm, leaving everything below her waist hanging out of the bag while she rummaged through her papers.

“Horatio?”

“Yes, Mother?”

“What did Mary hand you?”

Horatio held up the business card, “Her contact information in case I need her assistance in the future.”

“Ah! Ha ha ha ha!” Mary withdrew her upper body in one long SCHLUCK of motion, falling back onto her knees, holding a handful of bright red pamphlets in her outstretched hand, “Here they are!” She flipped through the bundle, selecting one that looked the least rumpled, and set the rest of them back on the top of her bag’s contents before standing up and moving over to hand the selected one to Morticia. “Unfortunately, I must be on my way for today, apologies for taking the entire day, Horatio has some very interesting thoughts when he has a chance to expound upon them. I will send a copy of my report to the manor in the next few days, and I, personally, can’t wait to see what he does with his education.”

Morticia stood up from her seat in the chair, “Allow me to show you out, Mary.”

“That’s not necessary, I can find my own way, it was only three rooms from here,” Mary turned to look behind her briefly, “If you need my services for anything, Horatio, just put your letter in a Floo connected fireplace, with that address on the outside. It links directly to my Floo, and I keep a close eye on it.”

Horatio blinked, looking down at the business card, “Mary Poppins, Practically Perfect in every Way, DMLE, Floor 8.”

Morticia crossed the room to pick up the young wizard, reading the pamphlet out loud, “So, your young wizard might be a blood mage…? And how to cope?” She lifted Horatio in both hands, looking at him in joy, “That’s fantastic, Horatio! It has been quite some time, many decades, at least, since we’ve even seen a blood mage in the magic flow! Britain tried to stamp out the blood mage line… Oh! I’m going to have to send a letter to your great uncle Nicholas! He’s got some grasp on blood magic, he can teach you at least a little bit to get your own grasp on the basics.”

“A blood mage?” Gomez was suddenly standing behind Mother, drawing Horatio’s attention.

“That’s what the social worker seems to think…”

Horatio held out his right hand to show off the stab wound to his father.

“Why, that’s fantastic!”

Horatio’s brain caught up to the moment suddenly, “Father! You’re not in your train room. Is everything dismal as ever?”

“Indeed, I’m having my monthly meeting with Lewis Tulley. He should be arriving shortly.”

“May I stay and observe, Father?”

Gomez regarded his second son, “Only as far as the Office’s door, what happens within is not for young eyes.”

“Horatio?”

“Yes, Mother?”

“You aren’t planning to bite Mr. Tulley again, are you?”

“No, Mother.”

“A shame. Keeping Mr. Tulley on his toes is a good thing, much like… I’m guessing Wednesday got your hand with one of her subtle knives?”

“Yes, Mother.” Horatio sulked slightly.

“Distracted?”

“By Puggsley’s explosives work.”

“That’s my boy!” Gomez cheered, turning to step out toward the entry hall as he heard the knocker clang, “Tulley! You old so and so!”

Horatio turned in Mother’s arms to get a good look at the man, four foot nothing on a good day, partially bald, dressed in what was once an expensive suit, but that had been run down by time, carrying a very old fashioned box briefcase with straps holding it together.

Morticia bent down to put Horatio on his feet, giving him free reign, but keeping her eye on him just in case.

The six year old held both arms up and immediately made a beeline for the half goblin. Tulley Alford, in return, twisted slightly to give Horatio a ramp with his briefcase, letting the toddler climb up his arm and perch on his shoulders. Tulley had never been one for children or Addamses until Horatio had one day had enough mobility to run up and hug his leg whenever he made a visit. Since then, he had grown rather fond of the little wizard, and had even considered possibly having a litter or two of his own. He had met and engaged Barbara, and they got along… reasonably, though Tulley thought she was more interested in the family than she was in Tulley, but it was a step in the right direction.

“How’ve you been kid?”

“Not bad, had a social worker visit, and then the rain started.” Horatio rested his arms on top of Tulley’s head before leaning his own head down on his wrist.

“Not gonna take you away, are they?”

“Don’t think so, ask Mother on your way through to be sure.”

Tulley turned, “Hello, Morticia!”

“Greetings, Mister Alford,” Morticia responded in her soft, sibilant voice.

“They’re not taking Horatio away, are they?” Tulley was suddenly very worried, seeing Horatio was one of the few reasons he actively enjoyed visits to the Addamses now. That and the money. Pure, unadulterated gold dubloons. Handling that amount of money would swing any goblin all the way up to the highest echelons of the banking world, but it would also take him away from the Addams account. So, he kept the transfers secret. He never mentioned them, he didn’t brag, he just calculated the money and transferred it into their account, and that was enough to keep it on the downlow. Somewhere up there, supervisors certainly saw the numbers climb, but they never mentioned it to him, client confidentiality and all.

“No, Mister Alford, not for another five years, at least, and only then because he will be attending school.”

Tulley felt his heart slip back to a more natural rhythm, “Good, good. That would be terrible otherwise.”

Gomez turned at another ringing of the door knocker and waited for Lurch to open the door, only to nearly faint as he saw the sallow, bald headed man in a soaked black robe standing out on the porch, not a thought in his head, apparently just soaking in the thunderstorm.

He did manage to catch himself before falling, and gasped out, “Fester? Is it really you?”

“Gomez! It’s me!”

The two brothers embraced in a way Horatio had never seen Father act before, he was… genuinely happy, and not outright besotted like he got with Mother. Morticia was suddenly on her feet to join the two, and there was much discussion about living arrangements, of course Fester’s room was exactly the way he left it, with a fresh coating of dust, and what had happened to him, why did he leave, all sorts of questions.

“Perhaps I should go… Gomez is going to be distracted for a while, I imagine.”

Horatio looked down over the half goblin’s head, “But you just got here, and I have questions for you!”

“You? Kiddo, you’re running right up to the very edge of my knowledge. I’m almost completely out of things to teach you.”

“You told me once you work for a… Bank… is it a local bank?”

“There’s really only the one goblin bank of importance, kiddo, so, that’s the one us bankers mean when we say ‘the Bank’… Gringotts, in Britain.”

“Did you always want to be a Banker?”

“No… I had… plans, you know, back before the War… mom wanted me to go into sales, and… I kind of liked the idea, it would give me an outlet for anything I managed to create.” The tone Tulley’s voice took on was slow and sombre, which told Horatio that he was about to tread on very delicate ground.

“Did… you have family besides your mom?”

“Long… long ago, I had a brother, he moved away before the Rebellion, and I lost track of him. Mail doesn’t get delivered at the address he gave us.”

“Is that why you do everything you can to help my Father?”

“Hang on, kiddo…” Tulley stepped quickly into the other room, pulling the door shut before lifting Horatio off his shoulders so he could sit down and put the boy on his knee, “Okay, so… I do what I do for your father because, well, it feels to me like he’s trying to help me stay in business, if that makes sense. It makes no difference how much gold he brings me from your vaults, he’s always got more squirreled away down there. As long as my log books see continuous updating, I’m still in good standing with the Bank. Don’t tell him, but I’m also… somewhat worried that he does it because he pities me.”

Horatio looked shocked at that, “Perish the thought! Father enjoys your visits because you keep him on his toes! Mentally and physically. He always comes out of your monthly meetings refreshed!”

“Indeed I do, Old man! Come along, Fester needs time to settle back in, he’s travel worn. Horatio, have you been spying on our business?”

Horatio turned to his Father, standing in the wide open door, aura blazing, “No, Father. I just pay attention to how you act after your monthly meetings.”

“Alright then, Tulley, if you would be so kind as to join me in the library?”

“Of course, Gomez,” the half goblin set Horatio down on the floor, only to get a brief, child sized leg hug.

“You got this, Uncle Alford.” And then Horatio turned to toddle off toward the kitchen. Leaving Gomez and Tulley speechless, for different reasons.

Gomez found his voice slightly faster, “He’s very fond of you, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve never been called ‘Uncle’ before, though… is that going to step on any toes?”

“No worries, we’ve got plenty of toes around here. And we’ve all got our fixations.”

“So, he was right?”

Gomez blinked in response, “One survivor of the war to another? That is old business, and old business was last quarter, come along.”

Early July, 1987

One morning, Morticia gathered the children, all four of them, in the lounge. Pubert was cradled in her arm. “Children, I have a surprise for you. I finally managed to get Great Uncle Nicholas to give us a tour and possibly help Horatio with his bloodbending.”

“A tour?” Wednesday asked, dressed in a short, simple, black and white dress, her hair partially pulled into a ponytail on one side, not fully dressed for the day, since Morticia had wakened them early.

“His Lab is positioned right in the lower dungeons of Beauxbaton, and, since school is out for the season, he says he has acquired Madam Maxime’s approval to show us around, in case Horatio wants to attend.”

“This sounds like the trip is mostly for Horatio’s good, do we really need to attend as well?”

“No, not really, but you don’t wish to see France?”

“Not particularly, Mother, I have projects annealing currently that require careful watching very shortly.”

“I see, you go take care of those then… Puggsley?”

The plump boy shrugged, “Haven’t seen Uncle Nicholas in years,” He turned his shaved head to Horatio next to him, “I think you’ll like him. He knows more about alchemy than most wizards alive today have forgotten. He’s also still alive, partially, due to the side effects of bloodbending, so you might glean a general idea of what awaits you in your twilight years.”

“Cool!” Horatio was wearing a very nice, personally tailored suit and pants, with a training rapier at his hip, as he had yet to hit a growth spurt that would let him carry a full size epee, “So, when do we go see Uncle Nick?”

“Technically, next week, but we could go and hang out in the less reputable parts of magical Paris, see the sights at night, look into places you might be able to get lodging if you attend Beauxbaton.”

“Will Father or Fester be joining us?”

“Father has expressed a slight interest in going, but Fester has no interest, says he has seen more than enough of Paris for his lifetime.”

“Will we be going by Floo?”

“No, Horatio, Lurch will be driving. It will be faster.”

“Good, the Floo travel makes me queasy.”

Inside of an hour, Puggsley, Horatio, Morticia and Pubert were seated in the plush back seat of the family hearse, having packed the very simple baggage each would need for the week long trip. In the front seat, Lurch was dressed in his Sunday driving best of black leathers and jodhpurs, being the consummate butler that he was, guiding the hearse’s magic to get the family to Paris without being seen as they flew over the ocean.

Horatio always enjoyed being enveloped within the field of energy that powered an Addams’ magic, it kept him nice and calm, and spoke to his own magic deep in his soul. It almost felt like he could reach out and borrow the source Addams’ magic if he tried hard enough.

As it was, the ride was over very quickly, and Lurch was pulling into a French manor’s driveway, it looked to be white marble, and the yard was perfectly kept. Horatio looked up to Mother, “Where are we? I thought we were going to Beauxbaton?”

“We are, dear, Uncle Nick arranged housing for us until he’s available to give the tour. We are to stay with some very distant cousins. Who will be returning home this evening. They said we’re welcome to come in when we arrive and make ourselves at home.” Morticia stepped out of the hearse, nodding to Lurch briefly, before leading Horatio and Puggsley up to the front door, a massive, looming double door made of solid mahogany that felt at least vaguely like the manor.

Horatio turned to look around the yard, confused by how green the lawn and bushes were, and he could very definitely smell the sea, somewhere nearby. He continued to turn, and found they had landed somehow inside the gate, which he could feel the latent magic grid that was meant to protect the family, but the family hearse had just… driven through it?

Lurch grunted softly, having finally managed to open the door, and pushed it open to let the rest of the family inside. Morticia lead the way in, carrying Pubert, only to stop a few feet inside the door to look around, with Puggsley and Horatio pressing up to the back of her legs.

Lurch slipped easily around the matriarch and the children, his butlering instincts pulling him to the kitchen, immediately opening cabinets and cupboards to find anything that could be used for afternoon drinks.

Horatio was the first to break away from the family, heading off to the right of the entryway, wandering past a massive collection of couches and chairs, which lead him to believe they were frequently interested in entertaining visitors, but he was more interested in the plate glass windows that opened onto the yard, which was largely taken up by a deep blue swimming pool, rather than the graveyard that was behind the Addams manor. That threw Horatio, and he eventually wandered away to keep exploring the ground floor.

Chapter 2 Chapter Text

Horatio wandered through the manor, poking his head into every open door briefly, stumbling over the bedrooms and a small lounge and library before returning to the front room, where Mother had taken a seat at one end of the most severe looking couch in the room, the young wizard’s attention pulled toward the pool in the backyard as it started to raise, creating a small hump of water briefly before a face pushed out through the surface of the water, a woman that looked to be the same age as Mother looked if you weren’t aware of her actual age.

Outside, the woman was fairly quick to draw her entire body out of the pool, the water pouring in rivulets down her toned and taut body, forming into a flowing, skin tight dress that flared below her waist to give her more flexibility. She was joined almost immediately by a square jawed, dark haired man who was holding a young hand in his own, helping to guide two younger copies of the lady out of the water, one of the girls looked to be about Horatio’s age, maybe slightly older, while the other was much younger.

Horatio groaned slightly, “Oh, good, Veela.”

“Your cousins,” Morticia offered, “Fleur is older than you by a few years, and Gabrielle is… younger…”

“You don’t sound very sure of that, Mother.”

“I’m not… I haven’t kept up with this limb of the family tree.”

Puggsley shrugged, “Mother’s not fond of Veela… and they’re not frequently fond of her…”

Horatio nodded, “That makes sense… races with built in alluring magic would put each other off.”

The discussion was cut short as the square jawed gentleman pulled open the door to the patio, and everyone had to get swept up in that false moment of “It’s so good to see you again!” despite the majority of the parties not fully believing what they were saying.

It would have been unremarkable, until the younger Veela came over to hug Horatio, who tried to pull away almost instinctively at being touched without warning.

The young veela, Gabrielle, was thrown off by her cousin pulling away, “You aren’t…? You can resist the Call? How are we related?”

“I can resist the Call, as you put it, because my Mother has taught me how to resist her Call.”

“She is veela?” Gabrielle turned to look at Morticia.

“No, she is much worse.”

“What is she?”

Horatio looked over at Morticia, who was doing the greeting dance with the oldest veela, “She is much worse.”

“How are we related?” Gabrielle seemed to understand that either Horatio wasn’t at liberty to divulge Morticia’s secrets, or that he wasn’t actually going to give her a straight answer.

“Uh… hmm… What do you know about the Potters?”

The question caught the attention of the elder veela, who swept over in her flowing dress to intercept the question, “You must be Horatio?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Non, call me Apolline.”

“Forgive me, Apolline, I was not aware of your name.”

“Gabrielle has not been informed of the Potters. Gabby? Horatio is Morticia’s third child, by adoption, so he is technically your first cousin twice removed.”

Horatio blinked, looking at his mental family tree, wondering briefly who Apolline was directly related to, alongside whether she was counting the Potter family line, or if she was going solely on Addams blood lines.

Apolline must have noticed the look on his face, as she chuckled softly, sounding a bit like water lapping at the shoreline, before she dove in to explain, “The Addams line is so difficult to trace if you’re not neck deep in it we frequently just say whoever is currently up and living is first blood. All mages in Britain can trace their blood to the Addamses, it’s just a matter of how far back. The closer we are to ‘first blood’, the more likely we will express our own, individual flavors of magic.”

“So, you’re one generation removed from being an Addams?” Something about her was still tickling Horatio in the back of his thoughts, not quite making him aware, just sitting there, waiting to be made obvious.

Apolline leaned in close to Horatio, placing her hands on either side of Gabby’s head to cover her ears, “I was in the same Mamushka as your birth parents.”

The young wizard could feel her Call trying to work on him, but his magic was too strong, too resistant to her. And then, it hit him, “You’re only half veela, aren’t you?”

Apolline pulled back, running her hands through Gabby’s silvery hair idly, “Yes, and you are very resistant to it, aren’t you?”

“Mother’s call is much stronger, and I can resist her entirely. No offense was meant.”

“Ah, I am… a little jealous, but I would not want to bring harm to a guest. I just wanted to know if I needed to pull my punches as it were.”

“No need as far as I’m concerned, Aunt Apolline. Puggsley might be a different story…”

Apolline stopped, blushing slightly at being called Aunt.

“Sorry, you look… too young to be called ‘Aunt’, it just slipped out.”

“A little charmer, I see… Gomez is teaching you his silver tongue?”

“No, at least, not directly. Some things I’m just picking up by living in the family’s embrace.”

“Do you want to see Paris while you’re here?”

Horatio leaned to one side to catch a quick glimpse of Morticia and Puggsley, who had already done their glad handing and greetings with the other half of the family. “Perhaps, if there is time after I meet Uncle Nicholas. I have heard he is quite the task master, has to make sure his pupils get everything down?”

“Ah, yes, Uncle Nicholas…” Apolline’s countenance darkened considerably at the name, clearly she knew more than he had been told about the man.

“Oh, that good, I see? Anything I should know about him beforehand?”

“He is, how you say? A blood mage…?”

“And a very strong alchemist from what I’ve been told.”

“Oui, ‘e created the Philosopher’s stone while trying to find a way to cheat Death herself.”

“The Philosopher’s Stone?”

“Oui, but zat is a story for another time.”

Horatio made a mental note to ask Puggsley later.

Lurch interrupted the tense atmosphere by stepping into the couch collection and rumbling deep in his throat in a way that said “Dinner is served.”

The next few days were full of boredom for Horatio, idly following Puggsley around the unfamiliar manor while his older brother just got lost and puttered about doing nothing. On the third day of their trip, Mother told them in as cheerful a voice as she could manage that Great Uncle Nick had gotten in touch and said he could meet them in Beauxbaton’s main atrium around noon, and he had lined up a short walkthrough of the school.

Fleur had mostly kept to herself the last few days, leading to Horatio not really having a chance to get a read on her. He presumed she was at that age that lead to girls wanting to be more independent of their parents, or she was just hitting that age where boys were catching her eye, but he wasn’t at all certain, and she wasn’t around enough for him to actually figure it out.

Gabby, however, had basically attached herself to Horatio’s side, much like he had attached himself to his big brother’s heels. The young quarter veela wasn’t exactly verbose, but Horatio could feel her trying to work her aura on him, and actually caught her stamping her feet when he didn’t so much as turn to look at her. Clearly she was used to being the cute one everyone cooed over, and this cousin of hers wasn’t even paying her attention.

Just after noon found Morticia, Puggsley, Pubert, and Horatio standing in the main atrium of Beauxbaton’s Academy of Magic, a massive circular room of white tile stuffed edge to edge with incoming and outgoing Floo stations. Horatio was almost as green as the Floo flames themselves, just thinking about the possibility that he would have to come and go through the Floo network.

The Addams group only waited about five minutes before they were joined by a man who looked like a partial skeleton. Horatio turned to look at the man, confused by the way most of his visible body was exposed bone and muscle and the ragged edges of skin that had been exposed over the course of his life. The only body parts that still looked to be flesh were his nose, his mouth, and his eyes, with large stretches of his face made of exposed bone, and everything below his neck was covered by robe or gloves or hidden in ways that Horatio couldn’t be bothered to poke deeper. The old wizard was very clearly being held together by the dint of his magic, and little else.

“Great uncle Nicholas…?” Horatio guessed, drawing the rest of his family’s attention to the old wizard.

The walking wraith turned his attention slowly down to Horatio, mirroring the young wizard’s habit of trying to get a read on the other. “And you must be our new blood mage?”

Horatio held up both hands, looking around the atrium cautiously. “I’ve been told to be extremely careful who knows about that…?”

“A wise warning. Luckily, at the moment, we are the only ones in the school. Except for Madame Maxime, who is in her office on the other side of the school. School is out for the month.”

“Then, yes, I have been informed I might be a blood mage. I have yet to see any solid proof… it was a theory from a social worker a couple years ago…?”

Nicholas turned to look at the matriarch of the family, “Morticia, good to see you again, if you and Puggsley would like to wander, feel free, Horatio and I may be busy for some time. We will be down in my laboratory if you require us.”

“How is Perenelle?” Morticia asked after a moment’s thought.

“She is thriving, as is to be expected. She is currently in her greenhouse at home, cultivating a new strain.”

Morticia’s interest perked briefly, “I will have to write her later and get the details, is it early in the process?”

“She got inspired earlier this week, which is what kept me from being able to meet Horatio here earlier. If you wish, I can take her a letter after our magic practice, and she should be able to reply before you leave tomorrow, if I presume correctly?”

“As far as I have been made aware, the plan was to give you and Horatio enough time to help him get the basics down, and then we planned to get out of the Delacours’ hair…”

“Well then, if you’ll follow me, Horatio?” Uncle Nicholas held out a velvet gloved hand that looked to Horatio like it was only just barely concealing a bony, fleshless hand underneath.

The young wizard looked up to Morticia briefly.

“You’re quite safe in his care, Horatio, Nicholas is a very powerful wizard, despite appearances.”

“Young lady, do you want to upset me?”

“Of course not, Uncle Nicholas, I was just reassuring Horatio that you could protect him.”

The aged alchemist harumphed loudly, “First lesson, Horatio, hide your strength from others, let them under estimate you, and then, when the time comes, trounce them thoroughly.”

The young wizard trailed along, following the older as he turned to head back down to his laboratory, leading the boy down staircases of metal that hugged the outer wall of the school, walking past big, metal doors that looked extremely solid to Horatio. Below the flimsy catwalks they traveled on, there was little beyond pitch black. Nicholas didn’t speak the rest of the trip, perhaps having forgotten Horatio was following him? On one of the smaller catwalks, Nicholas paused, giving Horatio time to look out across the void to the inner wall, which curved along parallel to the outer wall, and it finally hit the younger Addams what the school was.

“Wait, you built a school on top of a prison?”

The skeletal wizard turned, “No, the other way around, the school came first, and over the years, I built down underneath it as my experiments grew more complex.”

“So, these are your failed experiments, then?”

“Yes, each room a monument to my failure.”

“Wha- bu-… but the Philosopher’s Stone?”

Nicholas bared what was left of his fangs, turning away in disgust, “A truly momentous occasion, that only lead to my ruin. Look at me, Horatio. My skin is almost gone, blood magic is what keeps me animated. The elixir of life has been fighting my body and magic for millennia now. I don’t know how much longer I have left, my magic is growing weak. It has been begging me to pass it on since I was in my three hundreds. And now, look, you are here. A perfect chance for me to pass on and embrace the sweet release of death.”

Horatio nodded slowly, “A grand finale to an illustrious existence.” Death wasn’t a sticking point for an Addams, it was, frequently, a temporary stopping point while existence moved on, and they were known to frequently hop back on the train of life for another go round when they got bored of death. Horatio presumed Nicholas would be quite content to step out of the station terminal for a nice long, deserved rest in whatever afterlife awaited him.

Chapter 3 Chapter Text

Horatio continued to stare in the direction of the otherwise unknown presence of Juneau for a short moment, hoping to glimpse even a quick mental idea of what she might look like before he returned to concentrating on the feeling of his blood pumping around in his finger, focusing on the pain on the edges of his ragged scalpel wound.

“Nikolai!” A lady’s voice called from somewhere up on the catwalks they had traveled down just minutes ago. Horatio did everything he could to hold his concentration on his blood and the pain, and managed a short connection, but whoever had called out was moving with speed and making all sorts of noise as she rushed across the rusty and twisted walkways.

Horatio looked up toward the walkway, idly pulsing the blood and pain back and forth along his finger, just to keep the feeling on his mind.

“Perenelle, my dear, I’m here with Horatio Addams, our new blood mage…” Nicholas replied after a moment. “I thought you were going to be in the greenhouse all day?”

Perenelle slid into view, a curvy woman that smelled of dirt and flowers and… nature? That couldn’t be right, at least, not as far as Horatio could comprehend… people didn’t smell like nature without some manner of ridiculous perfume, in which case, they usually smelled of the factory to the young blood mage. Something was different about this woman.

“Oh, yes, good to meet you, Horatio, forgive me for intruding on your lesson, I just… needed to see my husband one last time before he finishes passing on his skill.”

Nicholas gritted his teeth, hissing out a soft, “Sweetheart…”

Horatio blinked, “But, you said you were ready to embrace death…? And you implied it would be the moment you taught me to control my magic?”

“Er… yes, that is everything I have been informed of the power of blood magic. The moment I pass it on to you, I will finally be able to release my soul from this frail, dying shell, and take… hmm… quite a long vacation, if I have my way of things.”

“My dear Nikolai, I will wait for you…”

“The hell you will, Perenelle… you have been living a holding pattern for the past millennia, you have a job you were created to do, and it will be so much easier to do it once I am decomposing under the ground rather than over it.”

Both Perenelle and Horatio stepped back from the sudden fury in Nicholas’ statement.

“Created?” Horatio asked.

“Holding pattern? I have continued to do my job while we have been together. Just because you managed to harness a force of nature, doesn’t mean you slowed my work, Nikolai.”

“A force of nature?” Horatio echoed.

Perenelle turned at that, looking at Horatio, “Ooh, my, look at you in your tailored suit! Oh, of course, you’re living under Gomez’s roof, aren’t you?” And, just as suddenly, Horatio was swept up in a ridiculously fleshy hug, the force of nature seemingly trying to overpower Horatio in some way, if not through her aura, then definitely through pressing the limits of the young wizard’s personal bubble.

Horatio blinked slowly, overwhelmed by the suddenness of being swept up in the massive hug. It wasn’t that Morticia never hugged her children, it was more that she was frequently more subdued in her expressions of affection outside Gomez. And here was the woman who had created her going all out, as far as Horatio could tell, pulling the young, well dressed blood mage into her ample bosom, throwing all of his senses into confusion. “Ye- mmph, yes, I am… living under Gomez’s… roof!” Horatio managed whenever he could draw enough air to actually breathe, not that he was pushing back from the show of affection, but he was struggling to get enough air to talk.

Horatio was just as suddenly released from the old witch’s grasp, receiving a quick cheek pinch that the blood mage could tell had some spark of magic behind it, he could feel it disperse into his own personal magical field, but his feet were back on the floor, and there was a brief moment of loss drifting in the back of Horatio’s mind.

And then Perenelle swept over to hug the walking wraith, and Horatio did his best not to overhear the sweet nothings the two were sharing back and forth.

The young blood wizard returned his focus to the blood pulsing through his finger, drawing the pain back up to the incision where the scalpel had pierced his finger, focusing on the experience, uncertainty clearing up, fading away like the sun burning dew and morning fog off the dead grass in the early morning. Just as suddenly, Horatio could see the entirety of blood magic laid out before him, everything laid bare. A simple twist of his own blood pulled the wound shut, stitching his skin back together at speed, leaving only the pain, for Horatio to hold on to, to cultivate the feeling.

“Oh! My love!” Perenelle cried out, suddenly holding Nicholas’ lifeless body in her arms.

Horatio stepped up to the matronly woman, holding his hand out to her awkwardly, “He did it, he passed his knowledge on. His end has come, and he deserves to rest. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of course, Horatio, but that doesn’t mean I won’t miss him. He was… a gentle soul, outside the school, anyway… he had to put on that facade to keep his own life private as much as he could. Now isn’t really the best time to mourn, the headmistress will need to be alerted, and I foresee a lot of wizards and witches making personal trips to see the elderly alchemist’s body laid in state, as it were. For now…” Perenelle lifted the corpse gently, laying his body on one of the open surgery tables, making sure he was at peace before she turned to face Horatio again, “I can feel my daughter’s presence, come, let’s go tell her that you managed to break through.”

Horatio only spared one look back at the ancient alchemist’s body before he scurried up through the trap door, wondering if that was to be his fate as well.

“Morticia! My dear! How lovely to see you again, and out of your garden, and thriving!”

Horatio stood back to watch Mother get lifted awkwardly in Perenelle’s ample embrace much like he had been, catching the awkward look on Mother’s face as her chin rested briefly on the matron’s shoulder.

“Oh, that explains it…” Horatio muttered.

“Explains what?” Puggsley asked from Horatio’s side.

“Ah, why Mother isn’t fond of touching so much…”

Puggsley looked from Horatio, to Morticia, and then back, “Okay, spill, what’s eating at your toes, Sho?” Puggsley had long ago taken to calling his younger brother by the shortened moniker.

“Uncle Nicholas is dead.”

Puggsley frowned in response, thinking, “So? He had to pass on eventually, and you got to learn from him before he died… right?”

“Oh, yes, he learned… he broke through and saw everything Nikolai learned over his life,” Perenelle offered, turning to face the two boys, holding Morticia to her shoulder in the movement.

“Mother… really, a little decorum, if you please? I am glad to see you are doing well, but you know how much I detest being lifted off the ground like this.” It was weird to hear Morticia complain, she was usually much better at keeping her displeasure under control.

Horatio leaned over toward Puggsley slightly, “So, should we call her Grandmama Perenelle?”

“Not if you value your cheeks, no. Don’t be ‘too cute’ around her, or she’ll never stop the pinching.”

“I heard that, young man!” Grandmama Perenelle huffed jokingly.

Horatio blinked as a thought hit him, “If… Uncle Nicholas was your husband, and he’s dead now, and he was keeping the both of you alive through the Elixir of Life… what will happen to you now that you don’t have the Elixir?”

“Oh, a deep thinker, too…? As far as my immortality is concerned, the Elixir was only keeping me tied to my body. My very essence is immortal, dear. In time, I will shed my mortal shell and return to being a force of Nature once again.”

Horatio turned, looking at his assembled family for a simple hint as to what Perenelle might have been talking about. “A force of nature?”

“Well, technically? I rule over nature… The details aren’t important, but, a long time ago, I was trapped in this body, and sold into slavery. Nikolai recognized that I was sealed and bought me solely to release me from being a slave.”

Horatio blinked, “Oh, the Elixir was keeping your physical body alive? Was Nicholas aware of that?”

“Very likely, but it didn’t matter, we were in love,” the witch set her daughter down, only to reach up and grab her bony cheek in a gentle pinch, “Speaking of love, how are you and your beau getting on? How did he manage to get around your natural desire? How many grandchildren do I have?”

Morticia, for the first time in years, actually went red in the face, “Mother! Gomez and I have reached eldritch depths of love. He got around my desires by showing me a different way to feed, and you have four grandchildren, as you can see, Wednesday is not here, and that’s only because she takes after you and has projects that she couldn’t leave unattended.”

“Four? The last time I saw you you had two, your love life must be… hmm… legendary?”

“Much like yours and father’s… I’m sure you heard about that war about ten years ago?” Morticia waited only for a nod of recognition from her mother before continuing, “Horatio was brought to us when his parents were killed in the war, and we have raised him in the seat of Addams magic. He’s younger than Puggsley, and older than Pubert.”

Horatio jumped at Perenelle suddenly standing over him, one hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry for your loss, Horatio.”

The young mage shrugged after a moment of picking mentally at the thought, “I was… very young? Less than a year old, as Mother tells me. While I am very… h-… h-…” Horatio stopped, not sure he could actually get the word out, and took a different tack, “I am… honored that I was taken in by my family, and I have been given the best tutelage a young blood mage can receive, I admit, every so often, I do find myself wondering what my birth parents were like. I can only hope to live up to the sacrifices they made for me. That they might rest easy in their afterlife.”

“Very mature. Interesting. If you have any free time and would be willing to be a test subject? Feel free to visit, I will very likely be in Nikolai’s lab for the next few years, sorting out his work and releasing whatever built up magic might be dangerous to the school.”

Horatio blinked, looking up toward Mother as Perenelle drifted off into the school, muttering about “The headmistress must be informed…”

“So, being a test subject?” Horatio queried.

“Oh, she’ll feed you well, perhaps too well, and then she’ll run checks on how your magic responds, see if she can disassemble your body and make you stronger in return. Perenelle makes a mean Bonza beast stew, and, you’ll feel really good for a month or so, but the withdrawals are murder.” Puggsley replied.

“Murder, you say, children?” Mother’s face was much more composed, now that she wasn’t having to resist her own mother’s affection.

Puggsley smiled that wide, crack toothed smile that he always had ready and waiting, “Oh, yes, absolute murder, mother. I think the Bonza beast is some sort of magical stimulant, so, you get that high for a month or so, and then, your magic starts drawing on you to reach even half as high.”

Horatio shrugged, “Who is this ‘Madame Maxime’ Uncle Nicholas was talking about?”

“The headmistress of the school, lovely lady, she’s not a big fan of get-togethers, which is a shame, as that would make her very much like the rest of the family.”

Horatio sat in the back seat of the hearse, slightly upset that the headmistress had been too busy to meet with the Addams retinue, but also understanding that the passing of the immortal alchemist most likely took priority over everything else, and the headmistress would very likely be extremely busy making arrangements to help Perenelle and the students. He looked up briefly as Lurch’s magical aura suffused the car, blinking as he realized it felt different than it had at the beginning of the week, and he was registering the power somewhere in the back of his throat. That was new, and startling, to say the least. It still felt like Lurch, but now he could say it tasted like Lurch as well, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he knew that it tasted like the butler.

As the hearse drew nearer to New Jersey, Horatio caught a flash of stopped time out the window, just long enough for him to catch sight of a… well, maybe it had once been a house on a hill? But someone appeared to have turned it into a modern art museum. Part of it had a free standing wall, but only the one, and no roof, so it was kind of an outdoor indoors. Horatio stuck out his tongue, and the trip home resumed. He had never been much for art that didn’t involve blood or humans suffering. Anything else just felt so empty and foolish.

So it was that not even ten minutes later, the small contingent of Addamses, lead by the bright blue butler, were ushered back into the manor and the door shut behind them. Gomez was in the main entry, pacing back and forth and smoking his cigar, stopping in mid stride to turn and face Horatio, both hands reaching out to him.

“You’ve awakened! I can feel it! Cara mia? A Mamushka for our young blood mage.”

“With great alacrity, mon chere. When?”

“Tonight! I’m sure Fester can rumble us up a nice big storm, and Horatio needs his power cemented.”

Horatio blinked, “Just the immediate family?”

“Do you want a bigger celebration? Grander festivities?”

Horatio shrugged, “I wouldn’t be against a couple of not quite family members being invited.”

Gomez grinned, pointing a long index finger at his adopted child, “Of course, I’ll get him on the horn immediately,” before twisting on his heel to head off toward the den.

Shortly after Gomez took his leave, Mother moved to step off toward the kitchen, ostensibly to make preparations for the impromptu Mamushka.

Horatio jumped slightly at the hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, ‘Sho’, better go get dressed up for the night. Bet that Father has an outfit for you to wear tonight.” Puggsley gripped Horatio’s shoulder in a brotherly way, half squeezing in an attempt to break his shoulder, but not meaning it, of course.

“So, you think Father stayed behind to prepare for the Mamushka? He knew ahead of time that I would come out of my meeting with Uncle Nicholas ready?”

Puggsley pushed Horatio toward the main stairway, guiding him upstairs, “Father’s always been a bit ahead of the curve when it comes to awakening family members, though I wouldn’t be surprised if Mother didn’t plant a few thoughts in his head before we left and let him think it was his idea. You know how she is when it comes to the near future.”

Horatio smirked, “Hah, yeah, that sounds like Mother. So, you think it’s going to be a good Mamushka?”

Puggsley slapped Horatio’s back, right between the shoulder blades, “The Mamushka is always good, Sho, and since you’re the guest of honor, you’re going to have an amazing time.”

“What exactly… is the Mamushka?”

“A dance slash ritual. We build up a whirlwind of magical energy and pour it down into the assembled Addamses, and bring everyone’s natural magic up from below.”

The moment the brothers crested the landing, Horatio pushed his bedroom door open and stepped in, almost running face first into Wednesday, standing at the edge of the bed, holding a box wrapped in black and white pinstripe paper, which she thrust roughly into Horatio’s hands.

“From Father. Put them on and then hook your thumbs and stretch and release. They’re simple to use, but not exactly stable magic.”

The young sibling blinked, sliding his finger under the tape keeping the wrapping paper closed tight, his attention split between the present and Wednesday’s face. The brusque, standoffish tone had long been pushed away as Horatio grew up. It wasn’t like her to be so distant, at least, outwardly. “What do you mean they’re not ‘stable magic’?”

“Not until the Mamushka tonight, at least. Once they can focus your magic directly, it will stabilize. Until then, don’t snap them more than three times.”

Horatio tilted his head to one side, before looking down into the open present, at a pair of suspenders, black and white striped, of course. He didn’t even have to focus to feel Wednesday’s lattice work burning through them, which gave him a general idea of what magic had been sewn into them. He set to work, shucking his suit coat and folding it over the baseboard of his bed, snapping the four button loops to his belt, two in front, two in back and then put his suit coat back on. “Epee on or off before I do this?”

“Off, but keep the scabbard.”

Horatio glanced down just long enough to unbutton the clasp on his sheath, stiffening slightly as he felt Wednesday’s deft fingers ruffling through his hair. “Congratulations, Horatio, pretty sure you’ve surpassed everything mother and father could have expected of you already. I’m sure you’ll be reminded several times, but tonight? Is about you, and coming into your own.”

“It… just… it’s unfortunate that Uncle Nicholas had to pass on for me to ‘come into my own’.”

“Yeah, a little bit, the old alchemist was nice… but, there was a prophecy… lord… back when Nicholas was a teenager? The wording’s been forgotten over time, but the message was, ‘He’ll get to choose when he passes on, and what he will pass on’. So, from what I hear? You impressed the pants off him, not to mention Perenelle.”

A quick motion from Horatio sent his training epee over his bed, where Thing leapt up to grab the pommel, before flipping through the air with the epee to slide it home in a wall mounted scabbard.

The honoree for the night hooked his thumbs behind the metal clasps resting just below his pectorals briefly, before pushing the suspenders out away from himself, stretching them to their limits before releasing the elastic, wincing after they snapped hard against his chest, pouring out energy that weaved itself around his body, creating a new, better fitting suit that stretched properly across his body, perfectly tailored in the way Gomez’s suits fit him. Perfectly rakish, no matter how Horatio moved and twisted inside the fabric.

Wednesday reached out through the tips of her fingers, pulling Horatio’s hair back into place, one strand at a time, until he was back and properly set up, well dressed, ready for anything, or at least for the Mamushka.

Horatio twisted to pull his big sister into a hug, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, little brother.” Wednesday wrapped her thin arms around Horatio’s neck and shoulders, holding him lightly to her.

“So, rather than test these bad boys out, what other outfits are set on the rotation?”

“Currently? Just the suit you walked in wearing, it has three outfit slots set, though.”

“I can tell you crafted this… your magic is all over it, so why did you say it’s from Father?”

“Father… commissioned it, as it had to be able to grow along with you. You know Father’s magic is much more focused on dance.”

Chapter 4 Chapter Text

Horatio spent the following handful of hours seated cross legged on the very middle of his bed, eyes shut, focusing on the feeling Uncle Nicholas had made him suffer, dwelling on causing it to rise up in his finger again. He could hear, right on the very edge of his hearing, the family making preparations, guests arriving, wardrobes being moved around, only to wait for Lurch to come along and lift the furniture easily. He did everything he could to push the sounds out of his awareness, focused on his finger and bringing the feeling of pain back up, then the thrumming of his blood as it pumped along through his body, on it’s own course, not needing his attention. At some point, Thing pushed the bedroom door open ever so slightly and thumped his way into the room and eventually up onto the corner of Horatio’s bed, clearly observing the man of the hour with whatever magical senses the disembodied hand had available to him.

Horatio could never get a direct answer out of his parents when he asked them what Thing’s magic was. Either it was a secret, or they truly didn’t know. The young man didn’t much care one way or the other, Thing was very much a fixture in the household, that was really all he needed to know. He had just been curious until the general, everyday magic washed over him around four or five years old? And then, nothing in the manor caught him off guard any longer.

No! Horatio’s thoughts were drifting… go back to the pain, back to the pulse of his blood. Thing will be fine on his own, let him watch.

The day wound on mostly like that, Horatio attempting to focus, and then his thoughts would drift slightly to one side and he would have to refocus and return to something even close to an empty mind. The awareness of the upcoming Mamushka did little to help him focus. So, he was at least partially relieved when Mother stepped into his room.

“Horatio? Everything’s ready, and we’re just waiting for you to join us?”

Horatio smiled, releasing his frustration at not finding his focus during the day, and opened his eyes, a touch surprised to see it was already evening outside his window, before turning to Morticia and unfolded his legs, wincing slightly at the stiffness that had built up over the day, “Hang on, just… must’ve put my legs to sleep.”

“I take it you’ve been practicing since Wednesday handed you your gift?”

“Yes, Mother, I have been trying, but it’s eluding me yet.” Horatio stood from his bed, gave his suit a quick pat down to lessen some of the wrinkles, and then moved to join his mother, blinking in confusion as he stepped almost fully into her aura, her magic was overpoweringly sweet, cloying, with an undercurrent of death running right along the edge of everything. Had Horatio not been well practiced in diverting Mother’s aura, he might well have gotten caught up in the roots of her allure and leapt face first into her embrace. As it was, he was able to stand back magically and observe the lure that had just set itself out there to wait.

“So, you have to come down and make a show of embracing the members you invited into the fold…”

“Shouldn’t be difficult.”

“And then, Gomez will draw everyone’s attention and bring you to the center, and everything will continue on from there. Don’t worry about not knowing what to do, once your father gets going, the rest of your magic will know.”

Admittedly, that worry had crossed the young blood mage’s thoughts, ‘Oh, Hades, what if I take a step wrong? Why did no one teach me the dance?’ So, to hear that his magic would guide him was extremely comforting.

“Are you ready for your Mamushka, Horatio?” Morticia held out a delicate hand to her adopted child, eager to fold him magically into the family. A hand which he took gratefully, eager to follow Mother down to the ritual, aware as they walked that the ambient magic of the manor had already begun to change, coalescing around the young blood mage, hooking gently onto the ends of his own incomplete magic and building new extensions to create longer magic chains for him to draw from, creating ephemeral magic that, itself, was ready and waiting to become real enough for Horatio to draw on.

So it was with a bit of light-headedness that Horatio and Morticia stepped into the ballroom, which was about half full, which surprised Horatio. “Didn’t know Father had enough time to invite so many people?”

“He has been preparing for this since we left for France. Go, find your inductee.”

Horatio blinked, looking around the hall for the half goblin, who he had unfortunately grown taller than a year ago. His uncle was standing next to a woman about twice his height, strawberry blonde hair in ringlets, dressed in a surprisingly skimpy mini dress that briefly caught Horatio’s libido, only to get smacked back into the cold spot in his heart before the second youngest Addams divested himself from Mother and went to pull the honorary uncle into a hug.

“So… are you going to introduce me to your date, Uncle Alford?”

Tulley was wearing the same old worn down suit, but he had swapped the briefcase for a glass of something fizzy, something that Horatio could only guess at. “There he is! The man of the hour! You clean up remarkably, Horatio!”

Horatio did the honorable thing and let the goblin heap praise on him for a moment before redirecting him back to his first question, “So, your date?”

“Oh, right! Horatio, this is Barbara, my wife.” Tully swung his free hand around to pull the lady in close to him.

“So, you’re the young man Tully has been telling me about these past ten years?” She had a weird, pinched look on her face, almost as if she wasn’t entirely sure that there wasn’t something indecent going on between Horatio and her husband.

“I’m afraid I can only guess, but I would assume so? Uncle Alford handles Father’s business expenses, and we share a rapport.”

“What, precisely, does your father do?”

Horatio blinked, “Family secret, I’m afraid to say. The family is old, old money, so Father mostly spends his time playing with trains, or practicing sword fighting with Mother.”

For the moment, every bit of Horatio’s attention was on Barbara, so it was a bit of a surprise when Morticia raised her voice from across the room, “Your attention please. Tonight, we dance for our treasured guest of honor, Horatio Addams the Fourth!”

And then, just as suddenly, Gomez was looming large over the adopted boy, dressed in a wine colored, frilly shirt, one hand held out to the boy as everyone around the two of them started to clap.

Horatio reached out to Father’s hand briefly, pulling away at the last moment as he remembered, turning to pull Tully Alford and his wife along with him, “May I introduce Uncle Alford and his wife, Barbara?”

Gomez smiled thinly, “Good show, young man, now come! The Mamushka! Taught to us by our Durmstrang cousins, the Mamushka has been an Addams family tradition since Merlin knows when! We danced the Mamushka while Flamel toiled, we danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper! And now, Horatio, this Mamushka? Is for you!” The Addams patriarch took Horatio’s hand in his, drawing on his own internal magic to begin the ritual, drawing on each Addams member’s magic as they passed by. Morticia was right, the moment Gomez’s magic took over, Horatio had no problem matching his Father’s footsteps, mirroring the ritual with ease.

Soon enough, the two mages were dancing a flurry through the gathered throng of new and old mages, every face a whirl as Horatio spun, placing his feet precisely as Father’s magic told him to. He was idly aware that everyone appeared to have picked up instruments and were playing along to the small band that had started the night’s festivities.

“WAIT!” Gomez cried out, holding Horatio in mid step about two body lengths away from him, “I swear, by Mummy and Daddums!” When did Father grab the epee? “This dishonorable mage is the eccht Horatio Addams!” And why was it not his usual fencing foil? “We dance the dance of familial love! MAMUSHKA!”

Horatio didn’t fight it as his head was wrenched back just in time to catch that the epee had been tossed into the air above his head and he was expected to swallow the length as it came, tip down, all the way down his throat. Eventually, only the pommel was above his face, and he had caught the sword between his teeth. And then, he realized he could feel the blood all the way down his esophagus. And every inch of his magic burst into activity all at once, pulsing with raw possibility to protect him from the minor wound that had sliced through his soft flesh. His fencing hand came up immediately to grasp the pommel, withdrawing the length as Father bounded over.

“Congratulations, Horatio. You are now a man.”

Horatio withdrew the epee with no visible regard for his own body, he could deal with the pain, and the cuts, the new magic pouring off his shoulders was emphasizing that it could take care of him forever, if need be, and it could do much more permanent damage to others, if he but willed it. The blood mage lifted his head and turned to look for the voice, frowning slightly when he didn’t find Juneau waiting behind him.

“Problem, Horatio?” Gomez needled as he watched the newly minted mage turn.

“No, Father, at least, I don’t believe so. Is this how the Mamushka is for everyone?”

“Roughly, yes. Slight variations are necessary depending on the inductee.”

“Is this epee mine, I’m guessing?”

“As long as you can wield it, it is yours.”

“Meaning?” Horatio turned to face his father, catching the slight menace right on the edge of his voice.

“It is infused with your blood. Now… Should another mage draw blood from you, it will belong to them. Be careful.”

“One last thing… ‘dishonorable’?”

“Oh, yes, of course, Horatio. Honor is good, laudable, even, but never forget that it is in your best interest to fight dishonorably if it will save your life.”

“Good lord, Horatio, why does everything feel different?”

Both blood mage and dance master turned to face the half goblin as he walked up, Barbara in tow, looking a bit like he’d just had his first ever illicit drug experience.

“That, Tulley, is the lingering aftereffects of the Mamushka. Your magic has been forcefully brought up from a place where it was plenty happy to just… wallow and decay. Now? It is in the everyday, and getting a chance to be dusted off and used properly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, my dear lady, that the both of you are now second generation Addamses, welcome to the family, enjoy the boost to your magic, and the increased survivability for your life.”

“Survivability?”

“Of course, old man. I would expect… hmm… double long life span, an almost complete immunity to diseases in the wizarding world…”

Horatio jumped at the presence standing behind him suddenly, turning away from Father’s explanation to face… a shambling pile of hair in a bowler hat?

“Boosh, sha bazja boosh?” The voice under the hair was much higher than expected, and it didn’t appear to have a jaw to move when it spoke.

Horatio blinked, he had heard of Cousin Itt, but he had never been in the man’s presence, “My apologies, I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“That’s because you’re listening to the words… listen to what he isn’t saying,” Gomez bent slightly over Horatio, one hand on his adopted son’s shoulder, the other gesturing toward Itt Addams.

“It’s quite alright, Gomez, I understand… having only just met the boy…”

“Hey! I am a man now! And my magic is just itching to show off.”

“Perhaps after you’ve had some time to actually try your magic, I would be willing to have a duel with you. Been a long while since I’ve had to teach a young upstart a lesson.” There was a sense of certainty, of experience, riding behind Cousin Itt’s words.

Horatio blinked first, taking a half step back from the aura that popped up suddenly.

Itt inclined his head, “Wise move. Your magic is strong, Horatio. I won’t deny it, but that wouldn’t save you if we had a duel.”

“I… would survive… I can’t die…”

“Actually, you can, Horatio. Not that that matters, what Itt does is a fate much worse than death.”

The blood mage looked up at his father just in time to catch the pale look disappearing from his features. Oh. Horatio shivered at the yawning void he realized he had just about planted his foot in.

Luckily, Cousin Itt hadn’t actually taken offense to Horatio’s comments. He was well used to young Addamses coming into their new power and wanting to show off. It was often his job to show them just how mistaken they were to want to use the full force of their new power. No one ever spoke of those family members any longer.

Horatio was seated in the kitchen, assisting Grandmama by chunking up vegetables and ingredients after the old witch had requested his presence and assistance. Granny didn’t talk much when she was focused on her work, so the relative silence of the kitchen was only broken by the rapport of knife on wood and the bubbling liquid in the cauldron.

The blood mage looked up briefly, interrupting his chopping on the board to slice through a plump rutabaga that had been thrown his direction, dividing the vegetable into two even chunks which fell into his pile of diced chunks, only to go right back to his chopping. Across the kitchen, Granny smiled her toothless smile at Horatio’s awareness and expediency. And he knew that’s what she was smiling about as she frequently praised him on both whenever he was helping her with her work. He turned the blade parallel to the table and slammed the heel of his hand on the blade, crushing a lump of garlic before returning to chop the now flattened allium into slices.

Soon enough, Horatio had no vegetables or meat left to chop, so he hefted the cutting board to carry everything over to Granny’s side.

“Good boy, now, can you go greet our guest and bring her to the kitchen? She should have a bag over her shoulder, and it will very likely be dripping blood, do what you can to keep the blood off the floor?”

Horatio was already off, and only just missed answering the door personally because Lurch was waiting there. “Aunt Perenelle?”

“Oh, my goodness! Look at you, being all charming, and so dapper in your suit, Horatio!” The force of nature did indeed have a burlap sack slung over her shoulder, and the blood was already seeping through, Horatio could sense it.

Horatio gestured, waving Lurch to let her in, tensing slightly to get picked up and squished into a hug. It was, thus, a surprise, when she managed to resist the temptation to do just that.

“Now, then, Eudora requested fresh meat, and I am here to deliver.” The lack of a hug did little to quash the euphoric glow radiating off the widow’s aura.

“What kind of meat? I thought Granny would have had plenty of access to what she needed for her stew?” Horatio was already trying to staunch the flow of blood through the bag, as Granny had requested.

“All in due time, sweetheart. Come, come, it’s not getting any fresher.” And off Perenelle went, leading the way back to the kitchen, with Horatio in tow, slowly congealing the blood inside the bag before it could drip out and stain the floors.

“Again, what kind of meat is in the bag?”

“Oh, it’s just some Bonza beast I found while clearing out Nikolai’s lab…” Perenelle hesitated, wondering what Horatio knew.

“Puggsley mentioned you make a fantastic Bonza beast stew… but not what Bonza beast is…”

“Oh, of course, come in the kitchen, I’m surprised no one has told you about them…” Perenelle swept into the stiflingly hot kitchen and swung the bag off her shoulder toward Granny. “Eudora.”

“Perenelle. Have to admit, I’m surprised you had free time to bring fresh Bonza all the way here.”

“Nothing much happening at Beauxbaton currently, and, well, I wasn’t about to squirrel the meat away and waste it on just me.”

Granny pointed a finger toward Horatio at the face he was pulling, drawing Perenelle’s attention around to the blood mage.

“Oh, right. So… when a wizard gathers too much magic…? And doesn’t use all of it in the casting?”

“Yes?”

“The excess magic takes on… a life of it’s own, and from there, frequently starts to not mutate so much… but it does start to branch off from itself, gathering local doses of magic that are too low to be connected to other ambient magic. At some point, the magic grows big enough to take on a form, and it slips sideways into the Aether, frequently lurking near where it finally slipped out. Just waiting.”

“If it’s Aetheric magic, how does it bleed?”

Perenelle stepped in close to Horatio, pressing her index finger to his forehead, bringing up the tableau that had been transferred to him upon Nicholas’ passing, dragging the light in the darkness well out into the distance to illuminate a small circle that implied that he would one day be able to transmute blood to magic, and back again. “This is how, Horatio. In short, magic does what it likes when it’s under no one’s control.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“That’s entirely normal, sweetheart. I’ve known several archmages who couldn’t wrap their heads around the concept. Nikolai only barely had a grip on the idea, and that was just before he passed.”

Horatio held up his hand, staring internally at the tableau, pondering the implied possibility. “You mean to tell me, in time? I could theoretically transmute myself into… what? A spell?”

Perenelle swiftly pulled Horatio into that smothering hug she had foregone at the entryway, “Sort of, but not really… it’s more like… you could transmute your entire being into magic to power one massive spell, if you were ready to pass on, for instance. There would be no coming back from that, though. Not in the cycle of souls, not in the way an Addams can just hop back on the train for another ride. You would be permanently on the far side of the gate.”

Horatio’s face fell at that, “So, what do Bonza beasts look like?”

“Hard telling, sweetheart. They’re ephemeral, they take up amorphous space, and they’re good for your magical field when cooked properly.” Perenelle smiled guilelessly as she finished her answer.

“So, a Bonza beast could be anything, anywhere? What do you mean by, ‘good for your magical field’?”

“In so many words, yes. When you ingest a beast, their magical energy is dispersed into your aura, allowing the original spell to rest and stop gathering loose magics. You most frequently find Bonzas in or around the locations of big magical spells.”

Horatio blinked, suddenly very uncomfortably aware of a place Aunt Perenelle might be trying to suggest. The thought made his soul itch. “So, there might be Bonzas near where my parents were murdered?”

The force of nature stopped vibrating joy, for a split second, suddenly all doom and gloom, “No ‘might’ about that possibility, Horatio, there most definitely are Bonzas there,” and then immediately back to her usual painfully cheerful disposition, “There’s a small flock of Bonzas at those ruins. Do you want to go see?”

Horatio held up a finger, settling into the family’s telepathic chat, “Mother? Aunt Perenelle has just invited me to go investigate the ruins of my parents’ home for Bonza beasts, am I alright to go with?”

“Mother’s here and she hasn’t made any motion to come bother me? As long as you bring your epee with you, I don’t see any problem with that, just be home before the Harvest moon.” Morticia answered placidly.

“Yes, Mother.” And then he held the crook of his arm out to the much older witch.

An offered arm that Aunt Perenelle very quickly threaded her own arm into, “What a gentleman! I don’t suppose you know how to Terraport?”

Horatio responded with a blank look, “Can’t say I’ve come across such a thing, no…?”

“It’s like Apparation, but much less chance of splinching. Also, it is very much limited to floral mages like myself and Morticia. I can bring along a small handful of travelers when I go, though… do you know how to Apparate?”

“That’s the one where I fold backward onto my own skeleton and just kind of squeeze through a ripple in the air, and then do a rushed job of putting myself back together on the other side?”

“Something like that. Shall we go by Terraport, just for the ease of travel?” Perenelle didn’t actually wait for Horatio to answer, opening a magical hole beneath their feet that, to Horatio, looked to have torn the floorboards asunder and created a tunnel through the dry, rocky earth below the manor.

And, just as suddenly, Horatio and Perenelle were engulfed in the darkness of the planet’s mantle, magical energies drawing them inexorably across the Ocean, buried under miles and miles of history, rock and dirt and time just pressing down on Horatio from above. It all insisted on him just how important everything else was. Somewhere in the back of his thoughts, he could feel Time pulsing up from below just as fervently as it tried to crash in from above.

“Hold strong, Horatio. It won’t be long.”

The young mage slowly raised his head as he started to feel the press of Time lessening from above the two of them, and shortly after that, he realized they were moving up through the mantle. The feeling of Time beneath him grew more intense while they rose.

“I can feel something beneath us… what is it?” Horatio turned to focus on Perenelle’s face.

Just in time to catch a very quick frown, “Besides the planet itself? I’m afraid I’m not sure, Horatio. Can you describe what you’re feeling?”

“Well, before we started to raise upward, it definitely felt equalized above and below us, now it feels like it’s chasing us from below, if I concentrate, it kind of feels like how it felt to climb down into Uncle Nicholas’ labs…”

“Oh! That’s Time trying to catch us… the natural predator of wizards, it’s upset that magic extends our lifespan. Hang on,” Perenelle looked down toward her feet in the terraport bubble around the two of them, focusing briefly before focusing magic up to her face and then out toward her feet, “You stay back! I’m showing him a fun time before I have to return to my position.” Perenelle slipped bodily down through the bubble of her terraport, sending Horatio up on his way. “I’ll be along shortly, sweetheart.” was the last thing he heard from her.

And then, Horatio was planted foot first on a manicured lawn strewn with little pockmarks of magical discharge that had long cooled, all alone, except for the press of magical beings he could sense but not see just prowling around him.

Chapter 5 Chapter Text

Horatio crouched lightly, hands held out to either side of him, mostly trying to keep the presumed Bonza beasts at a distance, turning on the spot several times to get a better idea of the lay of the land, dropping several temporary shield spells as he turned. In front of him, where he had arrived, was a pile of burnt lumber that presumably had once been a house, perhaps swept up into the pile, as he’d been told the house exploded outward on that night. Behind him lay a street, unpaved, and beyond that, he could feel other magic casters, none paying attention, at least.

And then, suddenly, magic slammed bodily into Horatio, higher up than the usual lip of his shielding, and down the blood mage went, something massive sitting on top of him and smelling of rotten ozone and the sweet scent of dead bodies. It wasn’t a new thing for Horatio, he’d been in the family’s crypts, and they were filled with, as Father called it, ‘dead body potpourri’ to extend the scent of decay as the newly entombed decomposed.

He wasn’t sure if it was okay to kill the beast, and thus, was planning to wait until he could get a direct answer, as long as the thing didn’t move on to, perhaps, gnawing on him, since it clearly had the upper hand at the moment.

“Horatio!” the ground split upward as Perenelle rose from the core, a plump flower overcoming the lack of proper conditions for growth. From this position, Horatio got a perfect view of the black rubber boots under her frock, tromping his direction, passing either over or through his shields without breaking them, only to grab the beast on top of Horatio by the back of its neck and holding it out to give him a quick out.

The young man scrambled to his feet, looking at Perenelle’s stretched out arm and then at her face, “Are we here to kill Bonzas?”

“It wasn’t really the original plan, but, killing a beast releases the original excess magic, and, especially if one decides to attack you? Go for it. You have to be a better hunter than them to gain their respect, as it were.”

“So, they have some level of consciousness?”

“They are made of magic, so, yes.”

Horatio tilted his head at the response, tucking it away in the back of his mind for the time being before drawing his epee, turning to face the field of beasts, drawing the palm of his left hand down along the blade haft, creating a simple non-elemental enchantment along the length, just in case tempered silver didn’t work to draw blood from the magical creatures, twisting on the spot before leaping across the field toward the largest concentration of the beasts. Somewhere on the edge of his awareness, he could feel Aunt Perenelle’s magic writhing and shooting out to grasp and twist several of the beasts alongside Horatio.

It was a simple, precise magic bomb dropped on the gathered Bonza beasts, and very shortly, Horatio had a small pile of dead magic golems under his belt. He was panting lightly, the movement had been different from fencing with Father, but a good chunk of his training transferred over impeccably.

“Well done, sweetheart. You have drawn first magic. How do you feel?”

Horatio flicked his awareness around the yard, as he had figured out it was once a yard, only destroyed by the spells that took his parents. What was left of the Bonza herd had quietly slunk off as the enchanted silver bit into their constructed magic weaves. So, they did have at the very least primal instincts, and two mages versus a whole herd didn’t feel like odds they would come out on top afterward.

Horatio looked skyward briefly, “So, we cast magic here…”

“We did.” Perenelle’s features scrunched up slightly at Horatio’s statement.

“I’ve heard tell young wizards aren’t supposed to cast magic outside of their school environment.”

“Very true.”

“And, while I don’t know the entire story, I’ve been told, if nothing else, this is where the war ended. So… it should be some sort of wizarding monument, or landmark?”

“And… you’re worried because we might have just shattered the sanctity of a landmark?”

Horatio crumpled slightly, hit by the drowsiness his extended fights frequently kicked him with after the adrenaline wore off, “Where are the police?” After he sheathed his epee, Horatio reached up to cover the lightning scar on his face, until his magic flowed back in far enough for him to reapply the charm that kept it hidden.

“The gend’arme? They’re here, they’re just not certain what to make of our little show yet. As far as they can tell? We were casting magic at the empty air. Not to mention, I do have some protection under Madame Maxime. Unless they want an international incident, they will know better than to approach us for blowing off steam.”

“So, Horatio, you decided to attend Hogwarts?”

Horatio set his spoon down into his bowl of stew, focusing on Mother, seated across the table from him, squinting briefly, “Weird, I don’t think I said that out loud yet…”

Morticia shook her head delicately, “You haven’t. I was worried earlier this week that you would just laze about in the manor without making a decision.”

“Oh,” Horatio nodded, understanding Mother’s worry completely, “You peered into the future and it gave you the most likely outcome of when I would make a decision…”

“Over Bonza beast stew, yes.”

“And you wanted Aunt Perenelle here to witness my decision?”

“Horatio, the entire clan has been on tenterhooks while you grew up into a young man. Everyone expected you to choose to go to Beauxbaton or Hogwarts, one or the other, we’ve just been waiting for you to make up your mind.”

“Don’t fret about your decision, sweetheart. You are your own blood mage, after all.”

“Pardon?”

Perenelle leaned back from her stew, putting on a playful pout, “You did not want to be close to your family while you stirred up controversy in the wizarding world. It’s perfectly understandable. Your inheriting of Nicholai’s blood magic would not necessarily guide you back to his work…”

Horatio winced slightly, looking from Aunt Perenelle to Mother, wondering if perhaps he was getting put on, but Mother looked similarly confused. He paused briefly, thinking through his explanation before turning back to face Aunt Perenelle, “I figured spreading the teaching of Addams would be spread further if we didn’t concentrate into only one school. I presumed attending Beauxbaton would require learning French, or at least some French to get on. And, I’m a British citizen… not to mention I’m intensely curious to see the school where my parents went and decided to fight.”

Horatio caught Mother moving to rest the tips of her fingers on her chest out of the corner of his eye, “Are we not family, Horatio?”

He could tell just from the tone of her voice that Mother was putting him on, “Birth parents, Mother. I love you and Father and am grateful for you taking me in, but I want to know more about where I came from, explore more of the world. Leave my indelible mark in places where it can guide the flow of history.”

The sound of Father’s fist slamming on the table caught everyone’s attention, “Well spoken, Horatio! Go, out into the world, carve it in your likeness! I can’t wait to see the clan you’ll have hanging on your every word!”

The blood mage brightened slightly through his cheeks, he knew that Mother and Father had his back, and he was fairly certain the rest of the immediate family would step up if he requested it of them. They all just showed it in their weird, morbid way. Just thinking about it made him warm inside. Or maybe it was the Bonza meat digesting and suffusing into his own etheric field?

His announcement being out of his hands continued into the next day, as Horatio was summoned to the front hall, where Lurch was waiting at the front door with a woman he presumed was a witch based on her style of dress, a long green velvet robe and a hat that looked too big for her head.

Lurch grunted and gestured from Horatio to the witch before slinking off sideways to alert the Mistress of the manor.

Horatio bowed at the waist before offering his hand to the woman.

“It’s been… ten years? My goodness, look how you’ve grown Ha-…”

Horatio caught that she caught herself and tamped down the immediate first response that had shot up from the base of his spine.

“Horatio… My apologies. It has been ten years after all, and I knew your birth parents. I don’t doubt that Morticia and Gomez have done a spectacular job raising you?”

“I should absolutely hope so, Minnie.”

The witch looked up past Horatio toward the grand staircase. Horatio had recognized Mother’s soft foot falls and didn’t need to turn to confirm.

“Trisha!” The green witch held her arms out to the Addams maven in a very familiar way that caught Horatio off guard.

“Come to see our young man, I presume?” Morticia glided forward into Minnie’s waiting arms, giving her old friend a quick, if awkward hug, being out of practice by years as it were.

“Ah, yes.” Minerva reached her hand into the voluminous velvet of her cloak, eventually withdrawing a vellum envelope that she handed to Horatio.

The young wizard took the envelope carefully, reading the green ink on the front to himself.

~~Har~~ Horatio Addams IV

Addams Manor, 2^nd floor

New Jersey, USA

“Is my name going to be a problem, miss?”

“Pardon?”

“Horatio.” Mother’s voice had a certain steel to it in just those four syllables. A steel he knew all too well.

He did the sensible thing and dropped the question. Which only lead to Minerva giving her friend a look of confusion.

“He is an Addams, and very proud of that. It… upsets him to be reminded of what led to him becoming an Addams. I only stopped him because we are friends. And I can’t stop him while he’s away from home. Just as a warning.” Morticia rested one hand on Minerva’s shoulder and gestured with her other hand toward the lounge just off the main hall, leading the witch away.

Horatio stood in the main hall, inspecting the envelope before popping the seal to remove the letter inside.

“Personally, I just think he’s not ready to embrace what he was born to do…” Horatio’s ears perked at Mother’s hushed voice drifting out of the lounge.

“Meaning?”

“Albus hasn’t told you? Interesting. The short version? There was a prophecy that proclaimed Tom would mark his equal and neither one could live while the other survives.”

Horatio lingered, eavesdropping on the discussion.

“And you believe Horatio is… Tom’s equal?”

“No.”

The blood mage’s face fell. Mother had just dropped it so easily.

“He is going to be so much more than Tom. He made a mistake marking our son.”

There was a moment of silence from all three wizards after the statement.

And then, Minerva caught on, “He’s listening to us, isn’t he?”

“That doesn’t make it not true, Minnie. While we have done our usual job of preparing him in the ways of wizarding that have been long lost… he still needs to be tempered by the ‘real’ world… He will need guidance, and a deft hand in how to react to others in the moment. I presume Hogwarts can still provide such interpersonal classes?”

“Of course, Trish, though the quality of the interpersonal experience will depend heavily on the incoming class. Sweet Merlin, could you imagine Horatio interacting with the Dog Star?”

“You mean, as he was back in school? … No, I really can’t… Peter, however…”

Horatio sat down on a bench next to the lounge door, intentionally redirecting his attention to the letter. It was a list of paraphernalia that was required for classes in first year at Hogwarts. “Robes, Madame Malkin’s…? Wand, Ollivanders…?” Horatio looked up, frowning slightly as he thought about the requirements.

Chapter 6 Chapter Text

Horatio Addams was confused. Diagon Alley was busy as all get out, but he could feel no active magic circulating, only ambient magics that were doing their best to draw potential buyers toward this window or that display stand, or maybe you’d enjoy coming inside and buying a nice case of butterbeer? And people were flocking easily from one store to another, faces pressed up against the glass, longing for whatever possible items the owners had put under a Want it Need it charm. Horatio looked up to his right side, where Mother was luxuriating in her own existence, after it had been decided she would be less likely to cause a commotion amongst all the other wizards and witches who Gomez might still hold grudges at.

Morticia was in no hurry. The family had gone over Horatio’s school supplies list, and decided, as far as they could coax out of Horatio, that he needed a robe, and everything else, they most likely had plenty of in storage, or they were too childish for an Addams to require to cast magic. Beyond that, she was willing to wend her way through the bustling crowd, Horatio hot on her heels, until the two were standing inside Madame Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions.

Besides a gray haired old witch behind the counter, there was a boy about Horatio’s age standing there, arms crossed, tapping his toe impatiently.

The young blood mage moved to browse through the robes already on display, turning his nose up at the lack of any suits available on the rack. Eventually, he had no other choice, and went to wait at the counter behind the blond haired boy.

“Are you for Hogwarts, dear?”

Horatio blinked, looking up at the witch, “That is quite the loaded question. I will be attending Hogwarts, yes… am I ‘for’ it is something I haven’t figured out yet.”

That caught the other boy’s attention, “No chance to go to Durmstrang?”

Horatio shrugged, “Wasn’t offered, seeing as I live in the US, I’m amazed Hogwarts was even an option.”

“You’re a Yank?” The look on the boy’s face told Horatio everything he needed to know.

“No, born in Britain, in Godric’s Hollow, was adopted by an expatriated American family.”

“Ex… patriated?”

“Forced out of their country of birth.”

“Oh… kay, but… your parents? They’re like us, right?”

“They’re Addamses, so… yes?”

“No, no, I mean… what killed your birth parents?”

Horatio snapped his tongue against his teeth, thinking for a moment before answering, “From what I’ve heard? Voldemort killed them.”

“You said his name!?”

“How else would I refer to him?”

“He who must not be named.” the boy dropped his voice to just above a whisper.

Horatio rolled his eyes. “Why? He’s dead, isn’t he?”

The blond boy shrugged in response, “That’s the story. But, there are still Deatheaters out there who might come calling in response to his name.”

The blood mage shrugged in return, “Could be fun…”

“Do you have a death wish?” the other boy boggled in response, this other student, presumably also a first year, was looking to fight a Death eater?

“No telling. It’s entirely possible I might. At least then I might have a chance to catch up to my parents on the train.”

The blond shook his head before reaching up to straighten his hair back down, and then offered the hand full of hair product to Horatio, “Draco Malfoy. The right sort of person might have a lead for you, in the right circ*mstance.”

Horatio blinked, taking Draco’s hand and shaking it firmly, “Horatio Addams the Fourth. The password is ‘swordfish’…?”

“What password?”

“Sorry, couldn’t resist. Anyway, good to meet you, Draco.”

“So, you’re going to Hogwarts as well?”

“Yes.”

“Looking forward to it?”

Horatio blinked, thinking about how Draco had asked that, “Not… entirely sure? I know Mother will be happy to see me attending school of any sort. Between Hogwarts, Beauxbaton, and Ilvermorney… just, felt like Hogwarts made the most sense.”

Draco gagged at the other two school names.

“I’ve been to Beauxbaton, but not to Ilvermorney… and, I don’t know, I just… don’t think I could handle going to a school where my family is teaching, you know?”

“Which… family?”

“Ah, Mother’s mother. So, an Addams… Well, I mean, she is an Addams, but her name’s Flamel…”

Draco’s eyes widened, “A Flamel? There are Flamels in the Addams line?”

Horatio shrugged, “Only the two that I’m aware of… Mother, and her mother.” Horatio turned as he realized Morticia had stepped out of the shop, leaving him with the young co-student and the clothing witch.

Morticia slipped through the press of wizards and witches easily, espying a mop of bright red hair that she hadn’t seen in decades, and glided up to rest a thin hand on the woman’s shoulder.

The matronly woman turned at the touch, stiffening as she saw Morticia’s sterile form looming behind her, “M- Morticia?”

Morticia smirked ever so slightly, holding a small leather pouch out to the old school mate, “Molly. Here, this is to be used at the end of the school year. It should be more than enough to cover the problem.”

“Problem?” Molly was lost, in the sudden presence of the Addams matron, and the way she always seemed to be able to peer into the future. The last she had heard, the ethereal woman had been snatched up by Gomez Addams… Ah, Gomez Addams… if only she had been more… or less… or… something, if Molly had managed to catch Gomez’s eye, she could only imagine what her life might have been like.

“Molly?” Morticia could see the far away look in the redhead’s eyes.

“Oh! Sorry… ‘problem’?”

“I really should just tell you to inform your child to stay away from Horatio this year, but that’ll just push them together faster. So, that’s to cover what’s going to happen.”

Molly leaned back at the statement, “What’s going to happen? Morticia? What’s going to-” It didn’t matter, the Addams maven had disappeared between words. Molly hefted the pouch, blinking in surprise at the sound of coins clinking together, undoing the drawstring to peer inside, finding the pouch full of gold coins she didn’t recognize. Pure gold? She would have to go see what they would trade in for at Gringotts.

Horatio held a swatch of wool in his hands, frowning heavily, “You’re sure this is the only fabric you can use for Hogwarts robes?”

“For a first year? Yes, unless you’re planning on paying separately from your tuition?”

“That was the plan, yes.”

“Ah, that’s a very different story. The tuition only covers wool. If you’re paying separate, your options are much wider. What are you looking for?”

“I mean, can you do a nice, stylish suit? Something to contrast what I’m wearing currently?”

“You would need Twilfit and Tattings for non-robe options. And first years don’t get that luxury, unfortunately. As far as fabric, I can do acromantula silk, but it requires a lot of upkeep. Especially early on, you’ve got to imbue it with energy to keep it from falling apart.”

Horatio sighed, “Yeah, yeah, it’s expensive and difficult to work with. But you can do it?”

The witch leaned back from the counter, looking like Horatio had just offended her, “My boy! Of course I can do it! I’m a master seamstress. It’s just going to run you several hundred Galleons.”

Horatio blinked, sticking one hand in his pocket and withdrawing a small stack of the family’s gold coins, which he set on the counter in front of her, “That should cover it, then?”

Madame Malkin looked at the boy curiously, then at the coins, and then back to the boy… the boy… the… coins…

Horatio watched her struggle, once the coins had left his grasp, their pull only strengthened. As far as an Addams was concerned, they were only very lightly enchanted, but, Gomez had learned the technique for minting the irresistible money lifetimes ago. Long before Hogwarts had even laid their first cornerstone. One coin would have been more than enough to pay for the finest work the witch would ever manage to pull in her entire lifetime. But Horatio wasn’t against throwing some weight around, to make others that little bit more amenable.

“I can do a full acromantula silk robe by the end of the week. Any particular charms you would like applied to them?”

Horatio blinked, “Do you know silent step? Or untracking?”

The madame blinked, frowning deeply, enhancing the wrinkles all over her face, “I do have silent step, I don’t think I’ve heard of untracking.”

Horatio waved his hand idly, “No worries, I know someone who can add untracking before school.”

“And your source can cast it on acromantula silk?”

“Of course, she uses thread magic. Should be easy enough for her. So, I’ll be back in on Saturday to pick it up?”

Madame Malkin’s forehead beaded sweat briefly, “Of course. Your name?”

“Horatio Addams.” The young mage wondered how she couldn’t have heard him tell Draco his name, they had both been very loud. Oh well. Horatio stepped out into the alley just in time to catch Mother returning from her side trip, so, off he went, signaling her on the way.

“The Nimbus 2000!”

Horatio stopped briefly to observe the small crowd of young wizards who had their faces pressed up against the store glass, and then looked past them to the ensorcelled broom resting just inches from their faces. The spell weaved around the broom seemed simple enough. Flight plus control…? The blood mage shook his head, stepping past the small crowd to continue on to his other destination, the other big reason he had even bothered to make the trip to Diagon Alley. He could see the looming edifice from the moment he and Mother had stepped foot into the alley, white marble and gilding shining even in the dull light of the magical street.

Horatio had to stop briefly on the bottom of the steps up to the Bank, his heart beating rapidly, thrumming, almost. For the first time in his life, he was about to get to meet Uncle Tulley in his own environment. There had been no attempt to work out Uncle Tulley’s work schedule. Horatio had forbid it. He wanted to surprise his uncle. And here his heart was, betraying him by showing emotion. “This must be how those children up the street felt looking in at a broomstick.” He muttered before climbing up the short stairway.

And all of a sudden, Horatio and Mother were in the Bank. It was dark and dank inside, smelling of mildew and wet and dragons. In the gloam of the cavern interior, the young mage could see rows of podiums behind which goblins were frantically writing notes in heavy vellum ledgers, mostly by flickering candlelight. Horatio didn’t see Uncle Tulley, but he could feel the half goblin’s power, attached to him as it were by a thread of magic. “He’s here, somewhere.”

The blood mage and Morticia, both well used to Lurch barreling through the manor, stepped away from each other as a massive man in a fur coat very nearly stepped on them. “Ohp, scuse me, didn’ see ya there.” The man continued on the very short path to a small seating section where he proceeded to take up an entire couch on his own.

Horatio stepped up to the goblin the giant man had just stepped away from, and waited. And waited. The goblin seemed uninterested in Horatio’s presence. And Horatio was stubborn enough to just wait.

“Morticia! What brings you to Gringotts?”

Horatio turned at the voice calling out to Mother, moving away from the uninteresting goblin, walking over to hug the half goblin.

“Horatio! Then, you’re here to get your school supplies?” Uncle Alford was now two feet shorter than Horatio, and the boy was very likely to grow taller yet as he came into his magic.

“Well, we did stop at Madame Malkin’s, but, my robes are going to take a week for her to sew up properly. And the only other stop on our trip was here to see you.”

Tully held one hand up, gesturing for Horatio and Morticia to follow him, “We can walk and talk, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer, moving to greet the giant who had nearly bowled over the two Addamses. “Rubeus Hagrid?”

“Yeah?”

“You have your key?”

The giant’s eyes, what little of them Horatio could see under his facial hair, widened, and he began patting the pockets of his coat, giving a wriggling pocket a quick slap to get it to settle down. He eventually withdrew a lacquered box with a hinged lid from somewhere in the deep recesses of his coat, and held it out to Uncle Alford.

Very shortly, Uncle Alford had loaded the giant into a car connected to wrought iron tracks resting below the car, which itself was gimbal mounted, and then he helped Morticia into the car on the other side, leaving Horatio no choice but to slip in on the seat next to the giant.

“Are ye’ fer Hogwarts, then?”

It took Horatio a moment to realize the hairy hulk was talking to him, “S… sort of… I’m going to Hogwarts this year, I don’t know that I would say I’m ‘for’ Hogwarts, though…”

“Wait… yer from America, aren’cha?”

Horatio could see the gears spinning in the man’s head, if only they didn’t keep slipping from years of disuse. “Er… not originally? I was born in Godric’s Hollow, and adopted into a family in New Jersey.” There it was, he saw the flash of awareness across the giant’s face, and blinked at a sudden sense of tiredness suffusing his body as the car pulled away from the cave’s boarding station, the four passengers suddenly dangling over miles of empty air.

“Godric’s Hollow… Merlin, I haven’t been there since the night You Know Who were killed.”

Horatio wasn’t about to volunteer anything, though he was vaguely aware that the man’s voice sounded… familiar? Like it had popped up in his dreams some time ago? But he couldn’t place it.

“Ah… I don’ suppose yer recognize me at all… yeh were jus’ a little tyke,” The man held out a meaty hand to Horatio, “Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

Horatio took the offered hand, giving it as firm a shake as he could manage in the oversized grip, “Horatio Addams the Fourth. No, I’m afraid I don’t recognize you by sight, but… your voice is familiar.”

“Horatio Addams…” Rubeus rolled the boy’s name over in his mouth, not exactly sure why the Addamses would have renamed him, and also not one for subterfuge, “A fine, strong name. Good ter actually get to meet you proper like. Are yeh lookin’ forward ta attending Hogwarts?”

“Possibly? I haven’t been much beyond the bounds of the manor since before I was adopted, so, new sights, new experiences, but I’m not sure if it’s all excitement or if it’s just nerves.” Horatio blinked as the car descended into the cavernous system. He could feel something sending pulses of magic sporadically, and it was starting to make him nauseous.

Apparently, he must have gone paler than normal, as Rubeus suddenly pulled the boy close, wrapping him up in the over-sized coat, gently, “Alrigh’ there, Horatio?”

That drew Uncle Alford’s attention, “Don’t worry, we’re almost to our first stop, we can take a quick breather if you’re having trouble holding your lunch down.”

“Jus’ a quick pick up fer Hogwarts, orders from Dumbledore.”

Horatio caught the quick wince from the giant man, and the muttered, “Shouldn’a said that…”

As the car drew closer and closer to the first stop, Horatio could actually hear the pulses stabilizing into words, “Come, drink of my essence! I can grant you long life!” And then, the car stopped long enough for Uncle Alford and Rubeus to get out and fiddle with a massive goblin door.

The voice grew louder, screaming in Horatio’s head as the giant sat back down, drawing Horatio’s attention to the pocket he had just pulled his hand out of.

“How are you holding up, Horatio?” Uncle Alford pulled Horatio’s attention away from the secreted artifact as well as pulling the boy away from the rest of the bank attendees so they could talk if needed.

“Not… great…”

“Weird, didn’t take you for the sort who would have problems with high speeds…” Uncle Alford reached into a pocket to withdraw a bottle of something greenish that roiled on itself and held it out to his nephew, “Here, drink this, that should take some of the edge off at least.”

Horatio grasped the corked bottle, just holding on to it until he could get his mind straight long enough to think, “I’m going to guess there are anti-apparation wards all through the bank, Uncle?”

“It would hardly be a secure bank if there weren’t. What’s up?”

“The artifact Mister Hagrid here just picked up is screaming in my magic and it’s making me nauseous. I don’t think I’ll be able to continue the ride down sitting next to it.”

“Oh, that can be fixed pretty easily… hang on,” Uncle Alford stuck his thumb and forefinger into his mouth and blew a high shrill whistle into the empty caverns beyond, “Drink that, it should help the nausea, and then, you hang out here. There’ll be a goblin cart going up the other direction shortly. And a handful of goblin elites watching you from the shadows, to make sure you’re not trying to pull something.”

“Uncle! You can’t possibly think I would…?”

Tulley Alford clapped his hand on Horatio’s shoulder, “No, I don’t, but they do. Just making you aware. I will let Morticia know you’re headed back topside, should I tell her where to meet up with you?”

“Might wander a bit, not sure. I’m sure I’ll find her. Anyway, it was good to see you in your element, Uncle. Sorry I had to go and ruin it.”

“Ruin it? No, Horatio, you couldn’t have known. Besides, my element is still keeping the books balanced.”

Horatio nodded as Uncle Alford walked off back to the car, looking at the corked bottle for a moment before removing the seal and upending the green, viscous liquid into his throat. He could just barely hear Uncle Alford updating Mother on the situation over the sound of the cart getting back into progress. It might have been the potion doing it’s thing, or it might have been the increased distance between himself and Uncle Nicholas’ greatest achievement, but Horatio did start to feel like himself again as he stood there, waiting patiently for a car to arrive going the other direction, loaded down with a goblin driver and a woman Horatio didn’t recognize, seated next to a girl about Horatio’s age, maybe slightly younger? The woman’s face was drawn and wrinkled, under a braid of fiery red hair. Horatio turned his attention to the girl, who was pale herself, dressed in all black, except for a peek of red hidden just behind her collar line.

Only the goblin seemed to be paying Horatio any attention, “Get on. I’m on a schedule.”

Horatio looked toward the goblin and then back at the cart, confused for a moment as the car was suddenly empty. He stepped out from the ledge and into the bucket of the car, twisting to settle himself on a seat.

And immediately, the goblin and his rider were off. There was no flipping and dipping on the ride back up. Anyone who had gotten down into Gringott’s bowels had done so by goblin means, and thus, the security on the way back was less than necessary.

In short order, Horatio and the goblin were back at Gringott’s Loading Station, and the boy was feeling much better. He climbed up out of the cart and made his way out of the bank, back onto the streets of the magical shopping mall. With no other real plans, Horatio was tempted to just apparate back to the manor, but he knew it would be recorded and investigated by whoever was watching underage wizards casting magic, the Department? Especially if Mother wasn’t there with him when he did decide to go home. So, he let his feet lead him up the street a ways, and then down a dark side alley.

The press of wizards bustling about was much less severe here, but in turn, the shop fronts were much less inviting. Not that that would stop Horatio. He pushed on a door and stepped into the half dark shop behind it, looking around at the wave of dark magic radiating off everything, pouring at him, trying to overwhelm his senses. It wasn’t working, but it was trying.

“I don’t recognize you.”

Horatio turned at the imperious voice, facing a girl about his age, with deep, ice blue eyes and a shoulder length mossy blonde bob that was very clearly meant to pull the eyes downward to her uncovered shoulders, sharp and severe as they were. Something about her caught the attention of his magic, and planted a scene of death in his thoughts.

“New student.”

“You don’t say. But, I mean, you shouldn’t be here, you’re not dark enough. I know all the darkest wizards, and I don’t recognize you.”

Horatio shrugged, “Spent my formative years in New Jersey. Been keeping a low profile.”

The girl pointed a diamond tipped fingernail at Horatio, thrusting powerful magic through him to make him turn and march out the door.

It worked for about two steps before Horatio overpowered the magic and turned back to face her again, “Not going to get much in the way of business if you force everyone out.”

“My business is my business, and I’ll be pleased to see the backside of any Addams that steps into my business. OUT!”

Horatio paused briefly by the doorway, pretending to look at a desiccated hand with three long fingers pointing skyward, “A Dominican monkey’s paw? And you sell these?” He shook his head briefly, turning to step back out onto the street. For a split second, he was tempted to explore deeper into the alley, but he also knew, or at least, presumed, most of the other shops down this way would be as insular as the one he had just left, if not moreso. If he really wanted to explore down this way, he would most likely have to have an in.

So it was, after a moment of indecision, that Horatio weaved a very quick message spell for Mother to catch when she made her way out of the bank, just saying that he was heading home before risking the Department getting on his case and just folding on himself to slip through the Aether, landing on the porch at the manor. Hopefully Father’s charms on the grounds would do enough to throw off the landing zone of his Apparation.

The young blood wizard reached up to knock on the door, waiting patiently for the door to swing inward, “Thank you, Lurch. I’m guessing Father is with his trains?”

The blue butler grunted in affirmation.

“And my siblings are busy with their own things?” Another grunt. “Fantastic. Mother should be along soon, let her know I’ll be in my room. Oh, right, and I need a reminder for Saturday to return and pick up my robes from Malkin’s.”

A third affirmative grunt followed, and Horatio couldn’t help but reach up to pat the butler on his shoulder in a gesture of thanks before he moved to head up to his bedroom.

Horatio moved to sit in the center of his bed, legs crossed as he hunched forward to inspect the spell the girl had thrust at him, pulling gently at the weft and weave of her magic, pulling it apart piece by piece, trying to understand. As each coiled thread was loosened and unwound from the spell, Horatio held the coil up to his magical sight, and then set the frayed magic aside, piece by piece, until there was only the shining core of her magic strung between his hands. It shined a forest green with veins of black shot through. He set her magic aside carefully, and drew his own simple spell out to pull it apart in a similar manner, eventually left with a single core of magic that radiated gold, with silver veins pulsing through the edges. “Same as it ever is. I’ve never seen green and black like that, though.” Horatio wasn’t speaking out loud, he was making notes in his mind lab. Of the magic spells he had pulled apart in this manner, he had found seven or so core colors, and the large majority of those were blue and bronze, red and gold, green and silver, or yellow and black. His own core being gold and silver was just as puzzling, as he had never seen that combination anywhere else.

He had his theories, but not enough backing data. The prevailing theory, as far as he could figure it, was that magic was in some way passed down from a creature that had most likely moved into ‘mythology’. Perhaps dragons? There were a lot of chromatics in the magic colors, and they were balanced with metallics. He had read through Hogwart’s: A History a couple years back, and the story that had been presented was that Merlin Morningstar had passed his genetics on to wizard kind. Which made no sense. Merlin had had no interest in society unless Arthur Pendragon called upon him, and even then, the arch wizard was absolutely more interested in forming Arthur, guiding him to find his own answers so Merlin could be left in peace. As far as history recorded, Merlin had died unspoilt. His sister, however…

Horatio set the thought aside as he felt Mother’s presence beyond his door, turning his head to stare into the core of her magic, a woody, natural feeling wrapped around blue and green. Even through the closed door, he could feel her magic as she lingered, and then, turned to walk away?

The young mage turned his attention to the room in his head where Mary had had her little interview with the boy, strolling over to the chalk marks still scrawled in his head. He had managed to inscribe about a quarter of the sigils in the past few years. Even with the sigils inscribed into his head, the chalk Mary had laid down still floated in his head where she had originally drawn it.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Horatio to spend days at a time locked away in his room. If he needed to eat, he would make his way down to the kitchen when his work could be temporarily left to its own devices. So it was that the first family member to actually see Horatio was Lurch, knocking roughly on the boy’s bedroom door. Horatio pulled his door open, looking up at the butler in confusion, “Hello, Lurch…?”

“Mmmurgh…” was the entire response.

Horatio blinked, “It’s Saturday already?”

A simple, positive grunt was the entire response.

“Thank you. Who is available to apparate with me?”

“Mmurg.”

“That works for me. Hopefully this shouldn’t take long.” Horatio rested his hand on Lurch’s forearm, popping the both of them directly to Diagon Alley.

Horatio popped back into the manor thirty minutes later, with Lurch at his side. He was one acromantula robe heavier, but it had taken everything in him to talk Malkin down from trying to pry more money out of him as she’d found another seamstress who could do the untrackable charm. He had insisted he could get it done to the school’s specifications before the term started. And he wasn’t wrong.

Which put his path up to Wednesday’s bedroom, his robes in an ornate cardboard box tucked under his arm. A quick knock on her door, which was met through the door with an emphatic, “No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

Which earned him the door opening partially to allow Wednesday’s head out into the hallway, looking up and down the otherwise empty hall before she finally focused on Horatio, “Sorry, Pubert’s been bugging me to come out and help him make his dolls dance. What’s up, Sho?”

Horatio held out the box to Wednesday, who lifted the lid to peek inside, “Ah, a Malkin’s Special…” Her voice positively dripped with irony, “And, of course, the charm’s as basic as basic can be. You want something stronger.”

“If you have time?” Horatio had to lift his head quite a bit to actually look up at his sister, what with six years difference between them.

Wednesday wrinkled her nose briefly, “What’re you looking for?”

“Untrackable.”

“Easy enough, and it’ll actually give me a good reason to avoid Pubert. I’ll even fix this horrible enchantment that she already put in the robe. This was supposed to be a silent step charm, right?”

Horatio nodded.

“I would say you should get your money back for the charm, but we all know Malkin’s got pockets in Hogwarts. You try it and she’ll run and tell someone. Ah, right. Acromantula silk? Do not get it wet. Light rain? Fine. Downpour? You’re screwed. Does it actually fit you properly right now?”

Horatio nodded again, enjoying Wednesday getting into the flow of her own magic. He could feel the threads drawing themselves out of the ambient magic to coalesce around her hands.

“I can add a weather resistance charm as well, then. That should save you from any nasty shrinkage.”

“It will fit into my suspenders, right?”

Wednesday focused grave gray eyes on her brother, reaching out to tuck her forefinger under one of his suspenders, flipping through the charm. “Y… yes…? It’s got plenty of room for more outfits. The suspenders weren’t made to keep charms attached to their original fabrics, though… I might have to borrow them from you to attune them for that. If you want to go change into something and bring me the suspenders afterward, I should have most of it sorted by Monday.”

“Back in a moment then.” Horatio gave his sister a quick hug before heading off down the hall toward his bedroom, stepping inside and closing the door. Removing the suspenders was easy, just four buttons and the boy was standing there in front of his dresser in a simple pair of boxers. The suspenders were laid carefully on his bed as he pulled a suit he hadn’t worn in, goodness, hours? And then back to fighting shape, minus the magical suspenders and his epee. He could take care of himself without the length of metal, that wouldn’t be a problem.

And then, suspenders in hand, Horatio knocked on Wednesday’s door for the second time that day. The door opened just a crack to allow the black nailed hand out into the hall. Horatio set his suspenders in her grasp, and then reached up to pluck a loose bit of magical thread that didn’t appear to be attached to a spell yet. “I’m stealing a bit of your magic.”

“Go for it. Like I said, Monday, more or less. If you see Granny or Lurch, could you tell them I’ll take my meals in my room until otherwise?”

“You got it.” Horatio stepped back from Wednesday’s door, planting his shoulder blades on the far wall to unravel the thread in his magic lab. Being unattached to any spells as he had grabbed it, there wasn’t much to strip to get to the spell’s core. Nothing out of place, there was the light plucking of violin threads that always pricked his ears, and the gossamer that seemed to shine bright in the moonlight. Yup, that was Wednesday’s magic, no doubt about it.

Chapter 7 Chapter Text

“Horatio?”

The young mage looked up as Father clapped his hand on his adopted child’s shoulder. “Yes, Father?”

“Are you excited to be heading off to school finally?”

Horatio squinted, there was something else that Father didn’t want to ask, but he would play along for now. “New experiences? An opportunity to expand the profusion of Addams magic? I mean, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious. Excited might be the wrong word.”

“You have your foil?”

Horatio dropped his hand onto the pommel of the sword that was always at his side, “What’s wrong, Father?”

Gomez sighed in response, “I’m… not sure. I think it’s that the manor’s going to feel strange without you underfoot for the next year.”

“And yet, you and Mother managed it when Wednesday and Puggsley went off to school. What’s different about me going?”

“It’s going to be quiet once again. I think that’s what’s bothering me.” Gomez handed Horatio a folded bit of parchment, “That’s the counter charm to your Occlusion spell. It’ll give… certain people access, rather than the built in traps.”

That had been twenty minutes ago. Horatio had never seen Father so distraught, even when Fester was missing, Father kept it bottled up to unleash on his trains. Horatio had grabbed an empty cabin and sat down, making out like he owned the leathery seats.

Until another young boy had opened the door and poked his red head into the cabin, “Everywhere else is full, do you mind?”

Horatio blinked before gesturing to the seat across from him, still empty. Once the boy had come in and was facing away from him, Horatio double checked to make sure the glamour hiding his birthmark was still active.

“Ron Weasley,” the boy held out his hand to Horatio.

“Horatio Addams the Fourth,” Horatio reached out to grab Ron’s hand, shaking it in a tight grip, as he could very clearly see the pain on Ron’s face.

Handshake trivialities complete, the two lapsed into a temporary silence, not really sure what to say to one another.

Ron eventually broke the silence, “That whole thing is your name?”

“My family calls me Sho…? Why?”

“Phew!” Ron mimicked wiping his forehead, “Don’t think I could have managed to just drop a suitcase of a name like that every time I needed to get your attention.”

“You’ve never met my… uncle Hieronymus Fluorette Addams.”

Ron blinked, “That can’t actually be his name…?”

Horatio responded with a slight smirk, “That’s the name he always gives to people he’s meeting for the first time.”

“So, it’s not actually his name?”

Horatio looked up as the train lurched and began to pull away from the station, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“You… what?”

Horatio sighed, flipping his hand over in Ron’s direction, “No, he goes by Cousin Itt.”

“What’s his real name?”

“Itt.”

“Alright, what’s its real name?” Ron gritted his teeth at the question.

“What?”

“Its real name is ‘What’?” Ron looked confused and slightly upset.

Horatio was feeling about the same, stopping for a moment to think about what he had unintentionally gotten himself into. “Okay, I’ll slow this down a bit. Before he became an Addams, his name was Itt, with two ts, when he Mamushkaed, he gained enough awareness to produce the name Hieronymus, he only uses it when he’s in an official meet and greet to throw people off.”

“Mamushkaed? Itt?”

“Yes, Cousin Itt Mamushkaed.”

The discussion was cut off by another student opening the cabin door, poking his head in, glanced at Horatio, and then turned his attention to the redhead. “Why are you wearing a blouse?”

Ron went purple through the face, “It is not!”

Draco pointed a thin, bloodless finger at Ron’s shirt, “The buttons are on the wrong side. If it’s not a blouse, it’s definitely a girl’s shirt…” And that would have been the end of it, but Draco let his eyes wander, catching a glimpse of Ron’s shoes, “And you’re wearing lifts?”

Horatio squinted at Ron’s shirt, tilted his head to one side, and then burst out laughing, “Holy sh*t, it is a blouse!”

Ron went purple-er. “My brothers decided to run my shirt through a mud puddle this morning. This was the only clean shirt Mum could find.”

Horatio and Draco shared a quick look, for just a split second, before Horatio reached out and intoned in his head, ‘Fabrizio’, causing Ron’s shirt to tighten briefly before mirroring itself across his torso.

“Ow! The hell was that?”

“Magic…?”

“Ooo! I know a spell! My brothers taught me this one!” Ron produced a rat from his pocket, setting the thing on his knee and drew his wand.

“Sunshine, daisy, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!” The wand tip sparked in the rat’s direction, but nothing else happened.

Horatio blinked, “Okay, two questions. Number one, these are the same brothers who dragged your shirt through the mud, yeah? And two, do you want a yellow rat?”

Ron looked up from his pet at Sho, “Same brothers, George and Fred, the bastards. And… I dunno, I just wanted to cast magic.”

Sho tilted his head at the response, “Your mum had an affair? Are your parents married?”

“WHAT?”

Draco burst out laughing at the question and response, “Oh, that would be too good if it were true. No, the entire Weasley clan comes from the same sources. Though that doesn’t change that they tend to be the worst example of a pureblood family line.”

Sho looked over at Draco, confused, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“They’re poor as dirt, and his father works for the Ministry, conducting raids on good, upstanding wizarding families.”

“Like your family, I’m guessing?” Sho was trying to comprehend, but he had a general idea, and questions to ask someone later.

“Of course.” Draco leaned back out of the cabin, shutting the door before very loudly walking away.

Sho waited for Ron’s face to return to its normal fair color before he broached the subject again, “You want to cast magic on your rat?”

“Y… yes?”

“Alright,” Horatio pointed his finger in Ron’s direction, “Focus. Hold the word ‘xanthous’ in your head.”

“Zan-though-us?”

Sho pointed again, “Focus!”

Ron jumped upright in his seat, unintentionally knocking the rat off his lap.

“When you can think of nothing but the word, point your finger at your rat, and, in your head? Underline the word.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you can’t imagine things, Ron. Oh no, you poor baby, are you actually one of those people with… what was it? Distal amnesia? No… no, aphantasia…?” Sho gestured at the rat, blinking as its fur very briefly brightened to a golden yellow, only to immediately dim back to brown. “That’s weird… it’s… resisting?”

“What? Scabbers is resisting? He’s a rat… you can’t actually cast magic, can you?”

“Would you like to be yellow for your first day at Hogwarts? Hell, I could change you for a week, probably.” Horatio waved his finger almost threateningly in Ron’s direction.

“Yeah, I don’t believe you can actually do it…”

“Horatio! Good ter see yeh again, I hope our little incident at the… you know where… han’t put yer off a half giant sech as meself.” The giant, bearded man was holding a lantern in the dusk night, as though he had pulled the sun down and caged it up for the arriving students.

Horatio blinked, “Eh… it wasn’t your fault, sir. When you and Mother continued on, I felt better almost immediately.”

“Sir?” Hagrid laughed a belly laugh at that, “Nah, Rubeus or Hagrid is fine, Sir’s for higher up muckity muck types, like, say… good Merlin, why is that boy yellow?”

Horatio followed the meaty, pointed finger to Ron, pretending like he didn’t already know. “Looks like someone found a highlighter.”

“A what?”

“A highlighter? It’s like a marker, only it’s a neon colored ink…?”

The blank look on Hagrid’s face told Horatio plenty.

“Okay, fine, he contracted scurvy on the train. He needs to be fed oranges to counter balance the liver failure. Immediately.”

Nobody moved, and Ron looked suitably embarrassed.

“Hagrid? Student in danger… surely you must know how to get him to… I don’t know? A nurse? An apothecary? Something?”

“Madam Pomfrey up at the castle can probably fix him. How long does ‘e have?”

Sho buried his face in his hand, “A week, probably.”

“We’ll be in the castle in an hour,” At least he looked worried, before the half giant raised his voice, “Firs’ years with me!”

Horatio twitched as he felt Draco slide in behind him, “What on earth happened to Weasley?”

Horatio chuckled, “Proving a point, keep your yap shut.”

“My what?”

“Your yap, your yapper, your trap, loose lips, your mouth. Good lord, is everyone here an idiot?”

“Hey!”

“You don’t get a say in this, Ron. At least, not until you’re back to being pale.”

“Mister Addams, where are your robes?”

Horatio looked down at his suit, confused, “Are robes strictly necessary, Minnie?”

“Mister Addams, inside Hogwarts, you are to call me ‘Professor McGonagall’. And you are out of uniform, if you don’t fix your mistake, you will be docked House points.”

Horatio shook his head slightly, slipping his thumbs under his suspender straps, “If you say so, Professor.” He pulled the straps out and let them snap back to his chest, long used to the sting of brief pain, as his suit seemed to melt away around him.

“Mister Addams! There will be no nudity in the presence of other students!” Sho looked up just in time to catch the professor shielding her eyes.

Not that it mattered, as his robes slid into place the moment his suit went sideways. “Come on, professor, everybody deserves a nice snappy suit.”

Somebody standing behind Draco snorted, drawing Horatio’s attention.

“What?”

“You said ‘snappy’ and snapped your suspenders. You made a pun.”

Sho blinked, “Unintentionally, yes, but nice catch. What’s your name?”

The boy looked an awful lot like Puggsley, a bit of a chunk, with close cropped black hair, “Gregory Goyle.”

Horatio held his hand over past Draco, “Good to meet you, Greg. I’m Horatio Addams the fourth.”

While Horatio was introducing himself, a painting in an attached wing of the main entrance snorted and lifted his head, peering around bleerily before shouting, “My boy!” and then stepped out of his frame to try to make his way toward the main hall to catch a glimpse.

Prompting several older paintings in the hall to groan and roll their eyes in response.

By the time the painting’s occupant made it to the main hall, Horatio and the other first years had been lead inside the Grand Hall past four sets of tables, to gather near a stool with what looked to be a pile of stool sitting on top.

Horatio smirked at the mental image as Professor McGonagall unrolled a length of parchment, “When I call your name, please step forward and place the Sorting Hat on your head. Your house will be your family through your time at Hogwarts, mister Weasley, why are you bright yellow?”

Ron stepped forward at his name being called, head hanging low.

“He caught scurvy on the ride up from London!” Someone answered from one of the tables off to the group’s right. Horatio guessed it was one of his bastard brothers.

Minerva rested a hand on Ron’s shoulder as he stepped forward, looking down as he stopped, the both of them bewildered by his predicament, “Mister Weasley, do you not eat fruit?”

“Uuuuuuhhhhh-f course, professor…?” Not exactly the fastest on the uptake, was he?

“See me after the Sorting, a house elf has been sent to alert Madame Pomfrey,” Minerva cleared her throat and looked to her list, “Hannah Abbott?”

Very shortly, Professor McGonagall had whittled the entire incoming class down to one lone student, “Horatio Addams?”

Horatio stepped up, catching the sudden, jerky movement from the man at the head of the Teacher’s table. A beard as long as forever, with crescent moon glasses perched on his beak of a nose, dressed the way Horatio would’ve expected a child to dress as a ‘wizard’ for Halloween trick or treating, which was to say, out of place, even amongst a sea of similarly dressed bodies. The man had a squint about him that unnerved the young Blood mage. “Show no fear” Horatio heard in his head. Possibly from his own voice, but he couldn’t be certain.

The Hat was placed on Horatio’s head and a feeling of displacement fell on him. The Great Hall went dead silent, every breathe held in waiting for the Hat to speak.

Inside Horatio’s head, he and the Hat were sitting there, on the stool, in complete silence. Horatio silent because he didn’t know what was supposed to happen. The Hat was silent because it knew damn well what was about to happen.

Sho broke first, “Hello? What exactly is going on here?”

“An Addams! Well… no, not… exactly an Addams, but you’re the closest I’ve seen in decades!”

“I was adopted.”

“Yes, yes! A terrible story, I agree. Necessary, perhaps, but terrible. Tell me, young master, is there a House you would fancy joining?”

“Young… ‘master’…? Are… are you messing with me?”

“No, no, not at all. The witches and wizards you know currently as your family were involved in the construction and protection of the castle you currently know as Hogwarts. As such, being the closest thing to a direct descendant to come through her halls? You have so much that she is going to want to do, specifically for you, that she has long missed being able to lavish on her creators.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, yes. The castle is going to bend and twist herself specifically to make you happy, because you being happy will make her happy.”

“So… like a pet?”

“I suppose you could put it that way, yes.”

“What does… she want in return?”

“That… is the question, isn’t it? Though, I have it on good authority she would very much love to be home to more Addams blood.”

Horatio smirked slightly, “Blood I can give her.”

“Preferably inside their owners’ bodies.”

“Oh, that’s going to be slightly more difficult.”

“Anyway, back to my question, young master… Is there a House you would like to join?”

“I’m being given my own choice?”

“It is an option, if you know what you want. Otherwise, I can give you a run down of the Houses?”

“My options are, as far as I know: Gryffindor, the house of the Brave or Foolhardy… Ravenclaw, the house of the Intelligent but Weak… Hufflepuff, the House of Friendship and the Status Quo… or Slytherin, the House of the Ambitious but Dark… “

“Not… the way I would have put them, but you’re not wrong.”

“I have… an idea, but I want you to keep it to yourself as much as you can, assuming the castle will actually allow this…?”

After a very long, tense ten minutes of silence, the Hat finally burst out with “Addams!” Which lead to the silence being broken by questions, and general confusion.

“Silence!” the old bearded man at the faculty table yelled to the students, before focusing on Horatio and the Hat, “I’m afraid there is no such House.”

Horatio hopped off the stool, lifting the Hat so he could see the old man, “Unfortunately for you, Magic has declared that is my House. You wouldn’t dare try to deny a magically binding contract, would you,” Horatio gagged visibly before stressing to say, “Sir?”

Leaving the Snitch in Dumbledore’s court yet again. The old man fumbled, sitting back on his golden chair, hands folded across his belly as he pondered inwardly.

Horatio looked to Dumbledore’s sides, smiling as Minerva McGonagall took her seat at the head of Gryffindor, next to a small man Horatio didn’t recognize. On the other side of the Headmaster, a jolly looking woman in dirt brown robes who reminded him excessively of Aunt Perenelle. And, on the very far end, an oily black haired man draped in the green and silver of Slytherin House. Which meant the woman that reminded him of Aunt Penny was the head of Hufflepuff.

Minerva and the short professor were both regarding Horatio like one would watch a cauldron, making sure he didn’t suddenly go disastrously wrong. Dumbledore was very clearly trying to think of a way he could deny what the Hat had announced, and was, thus, busy. The botany professor was bright red through the cheeks, smiling jovially, as though that were her only expression, which threw Horatio as he regarded her. And the oily man scowled, very clearly expecting Dumbledore to do something about this… this travesty! Teaching children, how dare he have to suffer children every year! Or maybe that was just Horatio’s interpretation of the look.

“Do I need to continue standing here? Or…?”

“Albus,” Minerva finally spoke up, “Addams House has been dormant for far too long, and you know it. And all it would take is a simple additional long table in the Hall…”

“It’s not as easy as all that, Minerva. Addams House doesn’t have a Head, much less a dorm, not since they graduated.”

“The room that was once Addams House is still available for use, and it would take the castle less than an hour to set everything back up for Horatio,” the Hat offered from on top of Horatio’s head.

“You knew this day was likely to come, Albus, the day we delivered Horatio to his family. You knew it was a possibility, and you have stubbornly refused to do anything to prepare for it for ten years?” Minerva was slowly getting louder as she needled the Headmaster, “For now, Horatio, please, feel free to join the Gryffindors as a guest, at least until we can get everything back into place for your house?”

“Take me with you, Horatio.” the Hat pleaded into Sho’s head.

Horatio blinked, turning to step away from the faculty table.

“If you don’t mind, Mister Addams, you may leave the Sorting Hat here.” Albus floundered to find some manner of foothold.

“The Hat says it’s done with its job for the evening, and it has things it needs to discuss with me,” Horatio shrugged, continuing to walk off toward the Gryffindor table, planting himself next to Ron, and across from a bushy haired girl whose name was escaping him.

“So, uh… what does ‘Addams House’ mean, precisely?” Ron stage whispered to Sho.

“Good question. I’m not entirely sure myself,” Sho responded.

“It means, Mister Weasley, that young Mister Addams here is in a class of his own, he will succeed for his House all by himself, or he will fail, all by himself. Despite having lived his life with a surprisingly ample family, not unlike your own, he will have to learn to deal with only his own wits to keep him afloat, at least until such time as he figures out a way to subvert the House Points, as an Addams is wont to do. If he were to be sorted into a House, he would very likely destroy what little balance there is amongst the Houses, and thus, he must do everything under the weight of his own mantle. A mantle I hardly doubt that will keep him down for long.” It was strange hearing the Hat’s external voice, it was much… craggier than the mellifluous voice that had been in their heads when they were sorted.

Horatio reached up to remove the Hat, setting it on the table before him, briefly looking at the witch sitting across from him, “Har-mony… something, right?”

“Uh, Hermione… Granger. And you’re Horatio Addams…?”

Horatio watched her face redden as she corrected him. “If you say so. So, Hat, what was the Addams House dorm?”

“It is currently known in the ledgers as the Room of Forgotten Things. It was a storehouse of artifacts that were no longer needed, old memories and records that didn’t seem important at the time, faces and photos that their conceiver were desperate to forget. It wasn’t always known by that title, though. And I cannot wait to see you recover the original title of the Room itself. The Castle and I have every faith in your ability.”

“The… castle is alive?” Harmony asked of the Hat.

“As much as Magic itself is alive, yes. The Founders didn’t do things in small measures. They wanted their creations to be able to take care of themselves, for the most part. It was only somewhere along the way that the school suddenly inserted Headmasters who thought they could control the castle.”

“You can thank the Ministry for inserting itself where it wasn’t needed,” Horatio snorted at the Hat’s answer.

“Yes, that was very much the case. Hogwarts herself is fully capable of continuing the legacy the Founders left behind when they stepped away, but the government stepped in to make sure everything was safe and legal.”

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic about your time under the Ministry’s supervision,” another first year Sho couldn’t remember the name of… Norman? Ned? NyQuil? Something like that, inserted himself awkwardly from Ron’s other side.

“No, Mister Longbottom, I am not. And neither is the castle. The Ministry has long been trying to squash any possible innovation that could have come from…”

“Mister Addams!” Albus yelled suddenly from the faculty table, drawing Horatio’s attention.

“Yes?”

Albus held his hand out in a gesture of offense, “That should be, ‘Yes, Headmaster,’ and that is what you meant to say, isn’t it?”

“No, not really. That would require that I respect you, and so far, you’ve tried to break a magical ruling, apparently because you don’t like me…?”

Albus scoffed, looking to his left as he heard a short tutting noise from the Gryffindor head of House. “Be that as it may, it would appear that I have no other option but to acquiesce to your sorting,” Albus clapped his hands above the table and then opened them, palms up, toward the enchanted ceiling, adding a new banner to the gathered House Banners.

Horatio looked up, immediately scowling at the lack of… anything, really, on the new House Banner. No colors, no House crest, no pattern. It was, at best, a very obviously placative gesture in Horatio’s general direction.

“As far as the school’s records are to be concerned, you will attend classes at the same times as Gryffindor House, any House points you win will go to Gryffindor if not otherwise specified.”

“Albus!” Minerva almost screeched.

“No, no, it’s fine, Professor, at least he’s making his bias obvious from the start. And he did it in front of all these witnesses.”

“Horatio! It’s not fine!” Minerva turned to face Albus directly, “You expect me to just go along quietly with this charade? Do you, Albus? In front of all these young, impressionable minds, you expect me to just go, ‘Eh, whatever, it’s just Albus being senile again’…? Because, if you do, I’m quite certain I can get the board of directors to motion for your removal.”

“All Minerva would need is a three quarters vote from the Houses, and I would be more than willing to throw my weight on her side, as it were,” the diminutive head of Ravenclaw piped up.

“Fun fact, Horatio, for the time being, you count as a head of House. Being the first current resident of House Addams. You would have a voting role if Minerva petitioned for Albus’ removal,” the Hat whispered to Sho, Ron, and Harmony’s hearing.

The Addams smiled, very briefly, out of the side of his mouth, only to let the motion drop, immediately standing to tromp back up to the faculty table, planting himself firmly in front of Albus, “Listen well, old man. Go ahead, stack the deck against me. I guarantee it won’t make an ounce of difference. Professor McGonagall, while I appreciate the offer to petition for the Headmaster’s removal, I would rather he stay right where he is, that he can have full view of the tactical error he has made in making a longstanding enemy of the Addams Clan,” Horatio leaned across the table, his thoughts full of fire and brimstone, all swirling visibly on the edge of his mania, “I am the retribution this man has had coming for decades. And there is absolutely nothing he can do to stop me now that I’m here and recognized.” Horatio twitched as he felt something try to push him from within. Someone was trying to control his blood? That cooled the fire almost immediately, leaving the young mage confused, but still upright.

“As long as we’re making ‘grand, dramatic speeches’, young man, you need to be aware that age trumps youth in the magical field. I have decades of experience over you.”

“Congratulations, you’re stronger than a first year, I’m sure that will look fantastic scrawled across the Daily Mirror’s headlines tomorrow morning. ‘Local headmaster bullies first year student when confronted with his abuse’. Feel free to stew on that. I’m no longer hungry.” Horatio turned and strode away from the table, picking up the Hat as he kept walking along the length of the Hall.

“Mister Addams, leave the poor Hat alone. It doesn’t belong to you.”

“No, it belongs to the Castle, and seeing as I don’t think anyone here but yourself and the Hat know where my House dorm is, I’m going to need a guide.”

Chapter 8 Chapter Text

“Addams?” a hopeful sounding voice called out as Horatio stepped out into the hallway, the Sorting Hat resting on his head.

“Who wants to know?”

“Your namesake.”

Horatio blinked, turning to face the voice before stepping toward it slowly, staring up at a picture of a man in an Admiral’s outfit, hat pulled down over his head. “You’re Horatio Addams the First?”

“Yes, but that wasn’t my original name. I got brought into the family, much as I’m sure you were.”

The younger Addams bobbed his head in agreement.

“Ooh! Oooh! I can take you to the Room of the Forgotten, if you don’t mind the company?”

Sho twitched, “How did you know that’s where we were headed?”

“The paintings are part of the castle, and she is well aware of what you want. Follow me!” And off the Admiral went, leading Horatio through hallways, and down grand staircases, to the ground floor of the castle, where eventually, the young Addams was lead to a suit of armor next to a very plain looking door.

Horatio stared at the door for a long, silence filled moment, “This… can’t be…”

“Say the words, Horatio…” the painting on the wall ordered.

“The… words…?” Horatio cast about in his mind for a moment, eventually settling on, “Sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc,” which caused the door to expand outward to both sides, as well as growing up toward the ceiling, “What’s happening?”

“The Room of the Forgotten was put in place around your family’s House. Only an Addams steeped in your own history would have known the family motto off the top of their head like that.”

Horatio snorted at a passing thought drifting through his head, “We Gladly Feast on those who would subjugate us… well, Dumbledore sure did try…”

Sho jumped as the suit of armor that had been next to the door moaned from somewhere deep within, shuddering noisily before returning to its natural stance. The blood mage turned to look more closely at the armor, even lifting the unarmed hand, to check and see if there was anyone alive inside.

It was the Hat’s turn to be amused, “Don’t worry, young master, Hogwarts has control over her suits of armor, she was… expressing joy over you coming into your own, as it were.”

“Mister Addams!”

Horatio turned at the voice, recognizing Minerva even through her worry. “Yes, Professor?”

Minerva rushed up to bundle Horatio through the door into his dorm, apparently not eager to talk in the hallway.

The inside of the room was… a state, it was just big enough to hold a bed that reminded him of home, covered in black velvet sheets, dust, and cobwebs as it was. There was also a window on the wall across from the door, but it was showing only pitch black at the moment.

“This is my dorm?”

“And all the possibilities that are to come with it. Addams House needs more Addams in it, don’t you agree, Minerva?”

“Good Merlin, I haven’t been in here in ages. I remember it being much larger… Ah, yes, that was why I hurried after you, Horatio, I wanted to tell you…” Minerva was gasping, out of breath from chasing Horatio, apparently.

Sho gestured to one side, summoning a chair for Minerva to settle herself into before he moved to sit on the foot of the bed. “No worries, Professor, catch your breath, I’ve got time.”

Minerva settled into the produced armchair, sitting ramrod straight as she always did. “Mister Addams, I am here to apologize for Headmaster Dumbledore’s actions.”

Horatio squinted at the statement, “I accept your statement, but not his apology. If he can’t come and tell me face to face? It’s not worth my time. He has, however, given me an opportunity. And that is all I need to show the old goat what he has done.”

“Horatio? Your House has an… interesting enchantment on it, the more Addamses you have in your ranks? The bigger your House dorm will become.”

Horatio looked up at the hat on top of his head, pondering, “How many Addamses are currently in the castle?”

“By my count? Five including you, and you are the strongest as far as your blood is concerned. Are you planning to… integrate the others into your House?”

Sho shrugged, “Hadn’t really gotten that far in thinking about it, but if that’s a possibility, I will certainly have to make the time to discuss with any Addams I come across.”

“It has been a very long time since the Houses recruited from each other,” Minerva sighed wistfully, thinking of older times, “It used to be that you could change your House whenever you felt you had been Sorted inappropriately.”

“What stopped that?”

“Albus being upset that magic wasn’t declaring correctly.” the Hat offered.

Horatio snorted, “Well, I just put him in an unintentional catch 22, then? Either he reinstates House poaching, or he has to deal with Addams House? In which case, I’m immediately putting myself back in Addams House anyway.”

“With Addams House active, I don’t doubt that you will be rather… busy with thinner blood Addamses seeking to join… Speaking of…” The Hat stopped as someone knocked on the dorm’s door.

Horatio looked toward the door, “Come in?”

The door swung into the room, revealing an older student with hair the color of a mood ring, cycling slowly from pink to a soft blue to green to yellow, and then back to pink, cut short as though she were planning to join the military?

“Miss Tonks?” Minerva was just a bit quicker on the introduction than the Hat.

Horatio hopped up off his bed to walk over and greet the older student, “Welcome to Addams House, what brings you here?”

“You do, Horatio. That was a wicked declaration of your intents at the Welcoming Feast.”

Horatio shrugged, “I suppose Father’s flair for the dramatic might have rubbed off on me.”

“You might as well tell him, Miss Tonks, I guarantee the young master will figure it out anyway given enough time.”

The older student glared up over Horatio’s head, apparently staring at the Hat’s eyes, “I… mm…. What would be needed ta join your House?”

Horatio blinked, “I’m not sure. Are you an Addams?”

“Sort of… my mum and I got disowned by the Blacks when the War happened… but, that was because Sirius sided with the Potters, and… how much do you actually know about the War?”

“I don’t know all the minutiae, I know that Dad was friends with… the Marauders… and they did something that lead Snape to go to Volde-”

Minerva cut him off, “He who Must Not be Named.”

Horatio shrugged, “As you wish. Lead Snape to go to He who Must Not be Named’s Death Eaters, begging revenge on Dad’s mistreatment of him? But he wanted Mom to be left alive that he might have her for his own…? As if she would just immediately bound into his arms while mourning Dad’s death…”

Minerva chuckled softly, “She might have done…”

Sho turned his gaze on the professor briefly.

“Yeah, so, when Sirius sided with the Potters over the Death Eaters, my great uncle disowned Sirius, and, as I got my in for the Addams line through Sirius, I sided with him, my Mom, who is also an Addams, sided with us, and my uncle said, ‘To hell with all of you’ and disowned our family line.”

Horatio blinked, stepping back into the dorm and gestured for Tonks to come in, conjuring a chair for her to sit in, “Come inside, please, I get the feeling this is about to get… salacious?”

The walking mood ring stepped into the tiny dorm, hair frizzing at the edges from being so close to an Addams power source, and settled herself into the conjured seat.

Horatio gestured, closing the doors for the time being. “Right, so… you can’t claim Addams at the moment, can you?”

Tonks looked up from her hands, “No, I can’t, not until I’m brought back into the family.”

“Young master…?” the Hat asked carefully.

“My parents adopted me… could I adopt Tonks? At least temporarily? Until I can figure out how to make her a full fledged Addams?”

“She’s older than you, but it’s the weakness of her bloodline that gives you authority over her. If you wanted to adopt her, it would help the dorm rather immediately. There are… loose magics waiting, just outside the range of your current hall, eager to be put to use, in ways I believe you could figure out with very little difficulty.”

“What’s the process? Do I just say, ‘I adopt you, Tonks’? Or something?”

“Sort of, put me on fully and I’ll give you the ceremony. Professor, Horatio is going to need you here to witness the process.”

Minerva sat up, having regained her breath from chasing Horatio. “I have the time, as long as it’s not a long process?”

“Oh, no, not terribly long. Young master?”

Horatio reached up, grasping the Hat’s brim with both hands to pull the artifact down onto his head, dropping immediately into his own mind.

Moments later, Horatio lifted the Hat, turning toward Tonks, “I’m going to need your full name, and then we can get this rolling.”

Tonks frowned, “Only with the understanding that this doesn’t mean you get to use my name outside this process!”

Sho shrugged, “I can agree to that.”

“Alright. My full name is Nymphadora Tonks.”

Horatio stood up from his bed, turning to set the Sorting Hat where he had just been sitting, and stepped over to stand by Tonks, “Nymphadora Tonks, do you swear to uphold the Addams Family’s Values?”

“Uh… yes…?” Tonks wasn’t entirely certain she knew what the family valued.

“Alright then, welcome to Addams House. You’re in, and are now part of my family line. Professor?”

“Hmm?” Minerva focused on Horatio.

“How are Tonks’ grades?”

“Middling to good.”

“And her stand out class?”

“Charms, easily.”

“Fantastic. Tonks, do you cast with or without a wand?”

“You can cast without a wand?” Tonks jumped up from her chair, briefly tempted to pull Horatio into a hug, only to get distracted by a wall suddenly loudly sliding away and to one side along the castle’s otherwise empty hall, expanding the dorm to receive new students.

“Of course.”

“Can you show me?”

“Possibly. How strong is your blood?”

“Not strong enough,” the Hat interjected. “You will have to dive into the assembled magic waiting for you over in the new room, and draw an Addams vial for her to drink.”

Tonks turned to face the Hat, confusion clear on her face, “So, am I an Addams or not?”

“Currently, in name you are, you need the vial to boost your blood farther.”

“So… I’m back into the Family?”

“Sort of, you’re part of Horatio’s family. His first of what is sure to be many.”

Horatio was partially paying attention, though he had moved over to explore the newly expanded space in the room, his hair frizzling as he walked right through an orb of loose magic. “How many Bonza beasts are in here?”

“None, that magic coalesced just now as the wall was moved.” the Hat responded.

Horatio grinned, diving into the pile of magics to pull everything apart, separating what he considered ‘weird magic’ away from ‘administrative magic’, immediately sequestering the smaller piles from each other while he straightened out the knotted ball of Christmas lights that was the ‘administrative magic’. “Ooo, House colors…? Oof, limited options…”

“To be fair to Albus, the only reason the Addams House banner was the way it was is because none of your forebears put much stock into making the House stand out on its own,” Minerva offered, “I would ask what colors you think your family would like, but, seeing as they didn’t set up the House colors themselves, I believe that is up to you.”

Horatio was only partially listening to Minnie, focused on the options he now had in his hands, eventually deciding black on white fit his aesthetic, stripes at that, and then moved to his options for House symbology. “Hmm… what would fit as our… masc-” He cut himself off as he felt a presence intrude on the dorm room.

The Gray lady, as she was known to the school, was pretty, once, a porcelain doll kept in a gilt cage. She was, as ever, dressed in her overflowing robes, hands clasped in front of her abdomen, eyes downcast as she very slowly approached Horatio.

“Can I help you, Miss?” the blood mage offered uncertainly.

“Horatio!” Minerva started, only to be cut off by Sho holding his palm out to her.

“Can you pass a message along to your Mother?”

“I don’t see why not…?”

The Gray Lady smiled in response, “Thank you. I’m sure she’ll understand.” before she faded from the room.

Minerva stood slowly, “If there’s nothing else that I’m needed for, Mister Addams? I must go check on my House, make sure everybody got to the common room all right. If you need me for anything, my office is open to you.”

Horatio smiled, temporarily distracted from the administrative magic to walk over and wrap his arms around Minerva lightly, “Thank you.”

“For?”

“For standing up for magic.”

“Oh, Horatio, I couldn’t let a child of one of my dearest friends down, what sort of monster would I be?” Minerva rested her hand lightly on Horatio’s shoulder as she spoke.

Horatio pulled away from the hug first, straightening his robes where they were bunching up at his waist, and cleared his throat, “Yes, well… I think you should have free reign to enter the dorm if you need either of us in the future.” before he turned back to untangling the administrative magic, focusing so deeply he didn’t notice when Minerva left, nor when Tonks first tried to get his attention.

The second time, however, he couldn’t ignore it when she punched him in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Where am I supposed to sleep?”

“Oh, uh… you’re welcome to the bed, I don’t actually lay down very often. Especially not when I have a knot of magic to unravel…”

“Horatio, can you find the ‘bedding’ requirements in the magic?” The Hat spoke up.

“Bedding… bedding… hmmm… this is all labeled in faded pencil… remind me to buy a good strong marker so I can label these properly?” Sho started poking at bits of magic that appeared complete enough to Horatio’s magic sight.

The dorm started rapidly changing as Horatio pressed things with reckless abandon, dropping conjured beds loudly in the expanded section of the dorm suddenly. For a short moment, the entire dorm and its inhabitants were in black and white. And then, a house elf in a ragged old robe popped into existence, trotted up to Horatio, and kicked him in the shin. Hard. Before holding his hand up to Horatio, making grabby motions.

“I fix your dorm, give magic and House points and we talk.”

Horatio looked down at the thin House elf, stuck briefly on the whisp of hair curling up off his forehead, and then on the lop ears hanging down either side of his head. “I… don’t believe I have any House points just yet…?”

The House elf sighed, “Oh, right. Tute forget… one moment… there, you has fifty House points now. For small, one time fee of forty five House points, Tute fixes you dorm for second House member. Tute show you how to do set up for future.”

Sho continued to stare at the House elf, uncertain what to do about the situation.

Tute still had his hand out, “Listen, Tute wants sleep, young ma-a-n… wants sleep? House dorm wants room for all… Tute show you how manage you magic. But must pay fee.”

Horatio looked over to Tonks, who was watching the miniature argument in earnest.

Tonks, noticing Sho’s look, shrugged, “What? It’s your House, do you want it to stay like this? It’s like paying a contractor.”

That sold it for Sho, and he handed the unraveled magic to the House elf, along with the ephemeral concept of forty five House points.

“Right, so, you looking?” Tute folded the magic over twice, solidifying a square of parchment out of the weave, which he spread in front of Horatio’s view, “Here is dorm. This big square here? That dorm. This rectangle? That door,” Tute gestured over his shoulder at the door, “That door. This grayed out section? That expandable… you pay House points to unlock more room and rooms in dorm, Tute ask what House be good at, but Tute expect to not get answer yet. In this drop down, here, Dorm has furniture for every student of dorm, you poke any of these, you drag your finger to where you want to put in room. That also work for unlocked rooms, not just dorms. You follow what Tute putting on your feet?”

“What? I mean, I think so?”

“Good. Next step, Tute show you you meters… poke this and drag finger, and it show you current House points read out, along with names of every member of House, they blood status, and how they feelings. You poke N. Tonks name there, you see she elated but wary. She also drowsy is. Tute make it easy and set up dorm for her this one time for you. It be bare bones, but it work for sleep.”

Horatio focused as he watched Tute drag his finger across the map several times, conjuring a bed for Tonks and then loudly putting the other furniture Sho had accidentally conjured in the map’s storage.

Tute handed Sho the map, “There, Tute done job. More option open up as you get wiser. Also, if desperate, there one time option for donate blood, in exchange for House points.” Tute started to turn, smacked his hand to his head, and leaned over the map, “Oh, right, forgot… poke there, and you can summon an Addams vial. It be ready by sun up, then you have dorm member drink, if they already Addams, they get more Addams-y. You? You no drink vial, you already too Addams-y.” Tute pointed his finger up under Sho’s nose emphatically. “You also do well look into buying House Floo, let secure Addams come through. Ta ta!” Tute spun in place and disappeared.

Leaving a still slightly bewildered Horatio, now with a map of the dorm, and more questions. “Hey, Tonks?”

“Yeah?”

“You need help moving things into your space?”

“Nah, left most of it up in Ravenclaw Tower. Right now, I need sleep. Catch you in the morning, yeah?”

“Sounds good, sleep well, Tonks.”

Chapter 9 Chapter Text

Horatio sat down on his bed, summoning a small light between his thumb and forefinger, with the rest of his hand cupped in Tonk’s direction to make sure the light didn’t shine directly at her so he could inspect the map magic Tute left him with. He poked and prodded words until he found one that stated ‘Summon Addams vial’ and gave it a poke of its own.

“Hello, Horatio!”

Horatio held a finger up to his mouth, “Shh! Tonks is trying to sleep.” before he even thought to turn and greet the sallow bald man who had appeared at the foot of his bed.

Uncle Fester turned to face the dorm, then whipped back to facing Sho, “Oh, that’s an easy enough fix, child,” Fester reached out over Sho’s arm to press the magic of the map, drawing a line across the dorm to cut Tonks off from Sho, wincing visibly as the wall grew up from the ground with a loud rumble, “You don’t have it on silent mode? Here, give me the map, I’ll set you up really quick.”

Elsewhere in the castle, a poltergeist in ridiculously loud clothes was hovering about a foot off the end of the headmaster’s bed, watching Albus pace back and forth around his personal bedroom.

“Sho… you can’t do anything to him directly, becaushe he ish protected by hish new Houshe?”

“More ‘protected by the castle’, but basically, yes.”

Peeves stretched, yawning dramatically, “Sho, there ishn’t anything you can really do about the Addamsh, you might ash well come back to bed… I’ll do that thing you love sho much…”

Having completed her usual tasks for incoming first years, Minerva McGonagall had retired to her office, desperate to think of any local witches or wizards who might be willing to take over in her role as head of Gryffindor, just in case the opportunity arose. She hadn’t brought it up when she visited Horatio, as she really didn’t want to stress him out too much, not on his first night, and especially not seeing as he was suddenly given dominion over the House magic.

Addams House would need a professor to run the House, or Albus would have a strong option for closing it down again. Minerva had been told ‘End of first year’, which definitely lit a fire under her, if only for Horatio’s sake.

Which meant, she had letters to write, and owls to send, to start gauging interest and availability.

Horatio was awake when the sun rose, pouring through his room’s window. Uncle Fester had helped him set up the dorms separately from the lounge area where Sho’s bed had been. There were now five bedrooms set up in the dorm area, along a hallway that connected to the lounge area, which had that window to the outside, along with several couches that had been conjured from the manor alongside a couple of tables that were ‘in the lounge’ but not fully set up. The young Addams strolled out into the lounge, noticing almost immediately that a glass vial was nestled into a crevice just below the window.

Sho walked over to grab the vial, looking into it curiously, confused by the black and white stripes seeming to orient straight up and down no matter how he turned the vial, even when he turned it upside down briefly, with the cork holding fast, the stripes stayed upright through the entire rotation.

“Ooo, whatcha got there?”

Sho jumped at Tonks’ voice as she walked into the lounge. “Addams Vial… come and get it.”

“What’s it do? Is it dangerous?”

Horatio nodded, “Uncle Fester explained them to me last night. They’re equivalent to a Mamushka in a potion form. For more distant Addams relatives, they bring you closer to the source. In your case, drinking this will basically make you one generation removed from me. For non-Addams blood, they initiate you into the clan, and a second will be the equivalent of a full Mamushka if, for some reason, you decide you don’t want to stay an Addams.”

“Horatio, I know so many witches who are going to want to drink the Addams juice.”

“Uh…” Horatio brightened at the statement, “You can call me Sho, everyone else in the family does. And, just think, you get to be the first.”

“The… first to call you Sho?”

Horatio held out the vial, “No.”

“Ooo! So, what should I expect, taste wise?”

“I’ve been informed it tastes like tar black coffee. Dark and deep and incredibly depressing, and then, you come out the other side… and everything feels… different.”

Tonks walked over, taking the vial out of Sho’s hand, and stared into it, hesitating for a moment, or maybe distracted by the stripes. And then, she uncorked the vial with a faint hiss of a dead body’s cry, and then, in short order, the vial was put to her mouth and swallowed in one long chug.

Something about her changed. Horatio could see her magical aura knitting itself into something stronger. Outwardly, Horatio could see her body flexing and changing, trying to settle on something.

“Interesting. How do you feel?”

Tonks focused wide and wild eyes on Sho, her irises flicking through a rainbow of colors randomly, until they stopped briefly on the black and white stripes from the potion. “Unleashed. Sweet Merlin. Is this what it feels like to be you?”

Horatio took a half step back, “No telling. I’m not experiencing what you are right now.”

“No, but you’ve apparently always been a stronger Addams?”

“Ah, yes, that I have.”

“So far, it feels a bit like celebrating a birthday for my magic… energetic, but not much different.”

Horatio pulled out the dorm map, drifted over to the Addams Vial section, and pressed the ‘Prepare Vial’ option, before looking back up to Tonks.

“Alright, so, those take a whole day to brew? No matter when you start them?”

“That’s what Tute and Uncle Fester told me.”

Sho watched Tonks’ face go bright red as a thought ran skipping through her head, screaming something.

“So, uh… since we’re now directly related by blood… you… uh… want I should call you ‘Daddy’?” The moment it left her mouth, Tonks covered her face and turned away out of embarrassment.

Horatio blinked, not entirely grasping what she was asking, “I don’t know… I think I prefer Sho… ‘Daddy Addams’ sounds weird to me…”

“Maybe ‘Daddams’? Eh…” Tonks waved her hand, “Let’s drop it for now… breakfast should be served shortly. Let’s go see what Dumbledore managed to scrounge up for our House seating.”

The table for Addams House was… short, and kind of shoved into a wall, due to lack of space, apparently, which meant Horatio and Tonks had to sit on the same side of the table, with their backs to the school. Horatio ate a bit and then turned to face out into the Great Hall, observing the ambient magic idly.

“Mister Addams?”

“Professor?” Horatio looked up at Minerva as she walked up to the side of the table.

“How was your first night at Hogwarts?”

“Uh… hectic. But I got some guidance, and a dorm mate… and house colors. How was your night?”

“Also hectic. For… similar reasons. Mind if I join you for a moment?”

Horatio slid down the bench slightly, unintentionally bumping into Tonks on his other side, “Oops, excuse me…” before he stood up to offer the bench to Professor McGonagall.

“I see you’ve learned Gomez’s manner of chivalry. Good Merlin, that does bring me back. You’re going to be a real heart breaker when you mature, aren’t you?”

That earned a snort from Tonks, “Into your students, are you, Professor?”

Minerva brightened in response, uncertain how to respond to the accusation.

“Hit just a bit too close to home there, Professor? And here I thought you had put all of that away when Elphinstone passed?”

“Sometimes, miss Tonks, I hate how easily you read others.”

“Blame the Addams blood. I’m sure Sho has the same ability, and it’s probably much stronger, but he doesn’t know you yet. Whereas I’ve had you for going on seven years. You’re like reading a diary to me.”

Horatio was lost, looking back and forth from teacher to dorm mate, “Are… you fighting?”

“No, not really. Just… having our usual confrontation a bit early this year. Before it can become something much bigger later in the year.” Tonks supplied.

“Horatio?” Someone set a hand on Sho’s shoulder, turning him to face a head of bushy hair.

“Harmony.”

“It’s… Hermione… you’ve really got to stress the second syllable.”

Horatio leaned back slightly, “Are you sure that’s your name?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You are aware that your name means ‘well born’, right? From which well did you spring fully formed? And are you, in fact, a ghost?”

Harmony stared at Sho, not sure how much of what he said she should actually bother answering.

Horatio reached out to wave his hand in front of her face, “Uh, Professor? I think I broke your student…?”

“No, no, I’m fine. Yes, I was well aware that my name means ‘Well born’, and, for your information, that means that my parents are well off. They’re dentists.”

“Wizard dentists?” Sho asked off handedly.

“Ah, no, they’re… muggles.”

Horatio watched Harmony cringe at the admission, expecting… retaliation? Maybe? “So, you moved from one big house where you knew everyone to an even bigger house where you know… no one?”

The girl slowly unfolded from the cringe, looking at Horatio expectantly. “Er… yes, I suppose so?”

“Right, well, you clearly came over to talk to me about something, so, what’s up?”

“Ah… there was a lot of whispering in the common room last night about just what it means that an Addams has come to Hogwarts. And I was kind of hoping you could clear some of it up?”

Horatio shrugged, “I can try. Do tell, what did your classmates insinuate about me being here?”

“Well, the most insidious one that just wouldn’t stop was that you are basically here to seduce the student body to follow your style of magic?”

“Kind of. But if you had a method of cleaning teeth that caused less stress on the person getting their teeth drilled, wouldn’t you want to at least expose the dentist to your method?”

Harmony focused for a moment, pondering Sho’s response, “I mean, I guess I would…? You’re not… going to kill Professor Dumbledore, are you?”

Horatio screwed up his face at that one, “Hadn’t planned on it. But your head of House seems to have implied my mere existence could cause Albus to have a coronary.”

“When did I do that, Mister Addams?”

“Last night, when you shuffled me into the dorm, rather than explain things outside in the hall. Something about Addams House is a problem to Dumbledore. Not to mention his reactions to the Sorting Hat declaring me for my house.”

“A coronary?”

Horatio turned to face the professor more directly, “A heart condition that frequently leads to death, I’m sure if you ask… the nurse? What’s her name?”

“Poppy Pomfrey. Or… Madam Pomfrey to the two of you.”

“Right, if you ask Madam Pomfrey, I’m sure she could tell you more about what a ‘coronary’ is.”

“Right, new question: How do you know what a coronary is, Horatio?”

“Death intrigues me, it’s a fascinating capstone on a life, don’t you think? You could be the greatest person the world has ever known, and then, just keel over dead, out of nowhere, because… maybe you ate your toast the wrong way in the morning. That’ll teach you to not stick your pinkie out while eating!”

Hermione Granger was lost, talking to her classmate tended to lead to random thought processes that he just dropped out in the middle of the conversation for the other party to have to figure out. “So, you should eat your toast with your pinkie out?”

Horatio shrugged in response, “Possibly. No telling, though. Foresight is more Mother’s thing.”

“Mother?”

“Adopted mother. Morticia Addams. She has a touch of the gift of Foresight from her Mamushka. It’s not her strongest power, but she gets things right more often than not.”

“R… right. I’m going to go… anywhere else for now.” And off Harmony rushed.

Horatio turned back to check on Minerva and Tonks, only to find they had apparently finished their discussion.

“I am really, very sorry that Albus put your table here against the wall…”

Sho sighed, “Please, stop apologizing for him, professor. Everything he does is just making it worse for him. The Hat did say Hogwarts would do… anything for me…? Maybe she could move the wall out a couple of feet? So we can actually get to the other side?”

“Mister Addams… the castle isn’t…” Minerva stopped in mid statement as the wall started to slide away from the table, giving Sho and Tonks more than enough room to move to the other side of their house table.

The loud rumbling noise drew the attention of several other students in the hall, who had all been idly eating or talking to friends, or what have you. Very slowly, anyone who hadn’t stopped to watch joined in in confusion as the castle literally started to change because a first year had asked it to change.

“You really just can’t handle sitting in a room with your back to others, Sho?”

“Hey, Draco, what’s up?”

“What the hell did you cast to overpower the castle?”

“What?” Horatio turned to face the imperious blonde.

“Can you teach it to other students? So we could change the layout of the castle as well?”

“Have you heard of the Mamushka?” Sho asked idly.

Draco stepped back slightly, thinking, “I heard it recently… yesterday? I think Millicent mentioned it on the train?”

“Who’s Millicent?”

Draco turned, casting his gaze across the Slytherin long table, stopping to point at an overweight first year brunette sitting next to someone Sho recognized.

“The… student sitting next to the Rousalka?”

“The what?”

“”The girl with the mossy blonde hair? Constantly wet? Extremely thin?”

“Oh, you mean Daphne Greengrass?”

“Maybe. She run a shop in Knockturn Alley?”

“When her mother’s busy, yes,” Draco stepped away from Sho.

Horatio watched Draco walk over to say something to the brunette, which very clearly got her attention, as she was suddenly staring at Horatio. And then, she stood up with a grace that belied her size, almost… feline in nature, if Sho thought about it. Sho watched her look around the Hall briefly before she hopped up on the House table in front of her, strutting across and over other students’ breakfasts, paying no mind to where she placed her feet, beelining toward Horatio as though she owned the castle.

Horatio watched her move out of interest. She had a very serious look to her, that probably would have scared most first years, and possibly several seconds and thirds. But Sho wasn’t any of those. He was an Addams, and he would stand his ground as she strutted across the other Houses’ tables, eventually landing lightly on the ground in front of him. She came up to about his chest height, which, again, probably would have intimidated most first years.

“Miss Millicent?” Sho offered, bowing slightly.

“Hey, hey! Look with your eyes. What do you know about the Mamushka?”

Sho straightened back up, “My Father’s magic created it. And you’re an Addams, aren’t you? Weakly blooded, but definitely an Addams.”

“I am a pureblood princess!”

Horatio shrugged, “You can be a pureblood and still weakly Addams blooded, those aren’t conflicting things.”

The Slytherin bit her lower lip, showing off two sharp fangs where her canines should have been.

Horatio watched her roll into her thoughts, and stood there, waiting for her to figure out what she was about to ask.

Only for her to lash out suddenly at Sho, drawing the familiar feeling of scratching up along his arm as she pressed a pudgy digit into his chest, “I am a PUREBLOOD PRINCESS!”

“Oh! You’re one of those Sacred Twenty Eight families!”

“You’re some kind of idiot, aren’t you?” And she turned to strut away from Horatio, very clearly done with the conversation.

Which left Horatio to turn and settle down on the newly opened side of the House table, left hand cradling his right forearm.

“What’s her problem?” Tonks asked uncertainly.

“Have you heard of a Napoleon complex?”

“Yes… that’s the short and violent one, right?”

“Basically.”

“He was a wizard, you know?” Minerva offered to the conversation.

“He… was?”

“Yes, attended Beauxbatons… and then went a bit rogue… not as much as You Know Who, but… similar.”

“Huh…” Horatio had looked into many historical figures in his free time at home. He had never heard that Napoleon had access to magic.

“That aside, the two of you should really get a move on, your first classes are about to start.”

Sho stood up, gesturing his hand to the ground and intoned ‘guide me’, starting off toward his first class.

Tonks looked over to Professor McGonagall, “I’m only going to be late if you are, at this point.” before standing to head off to class.

Horatio’s spell guided his feet directly to Charms, where the desks were already mostly filled up. They appeared to be mostly Hufflepuff students on one side, and Gryffindor on the other.

Sho spotted an open seat next to a slightly chubby Hufflepuff boy who looked like he had muscles under his fat just waiting to come out. He shuffled into the open seat just as the short professor popped up behind the podium, standing on a stack of books that really didn’t look stable to Horatio.

The blood mage reached out with his magic, gently shuffling the books into place so the pile wouldn’t topple over as the professor got more animated on the tippy top.

“Today, as a test for everyone, we’re going to start with the simplest spell there is, the spell is called Lumos! You just raise your wand, like so,” the professor presented his wand above the podium, “And say, ‘Lumos!’,” unintentionally flash banging the students who had been looking directly at his wand tip. “Now then, I want everyone to try, go right ahead!”

Horatio turned to look at his table neighbor, “Hufflepuff, huh?”

“Yes indeed. I’m gonna friend the hell out of you!”

Sho unconsciously shuffled away from the boy. Earning a short laugh from the other student.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist. Name’s Dudley Dursley. My friends back home called me ‘Dud’… until they found out I could cast magic…”

“Horatio Addams, feel free to call me Sho, though.”

“Addams…? Oh, sh*t! I know you!”

“You… do?”

“Yeah, Mum talked about you every so often.”

Horatio didn’t know how to respond to that for a moment.

“Boys? How goes your casting?”

Horatio gestured for Dudley to go first, and gave the student a shoulder pat when his wand lit up on the first try.

“Mister Addams?”

Sho held his hand out to the professor, cupping it back toward himself, and summoned the light inside his palm so he wouldn’t destroy the professor’s retinas. “If you’d like, I can go brighter? Or dimmer…”

“You have gradient control over your magic?”

“It’s not exactly hard, Professor…” Horatio cast verbally just to show his method, “Lumos Minima!” darkening the light to a simple ember of magic, just barely visible over his cupped hand, “And, Lumos Maxima!” The light blazed around the edges of his hand, nearly bleaching his uniform at the sudden intensity of magic.

“Well done, mister Addams! Ten points to House Addams!”

And then, the diminutive professor pulled Horatio down to his level, “Minerva and I are pulling for your venture, Horatio. I’m quite sure Severus will do everything he can to take points from your House. So, we’re willing to fight back if you want us to pump up the House points awarded?”

Horatio blinked, “Only if you do the same to every other house? Otherwise, it seems a bit unfair. And I don’t do ‘just a bit unfair’.”

“Meaning?”

“I have plans, professor. So, don’t feel like you or Professor McGonagall need to go out of your way specifically for me.”

The professor, whose name Horatio just couldn’t pull out of his mind… he had started the class with his name, and the moment was a complete blank for some reason, patted Horatio’s hand, “If that’s the way you want it.”

Horatio sat back up, realizing almost immediately that Dudley was staring at him, “Yes?”

“Are you in trouble?”

Horatio shrugged, “Very possibly, why?”

“Did you just get reprimanded by the professor?”

“Er… no? He just wanted a quick private word.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Quick question, though…?” Horatio waited until the professor had moved on to another pairing of students before he leaned in and whispered, “What’s the professor’s name?”

Dudley smirked, “Flitwick. How did you miss it?”

Horatio shrugged, “No clue, but I can’t pull it out of my head. So… back to this whole ‘Your mom appears to know me’ thing…?”

The young muscle looked blank, “Uh… mum’s an Addams...but she doesn’t talk about it much. Dad doesn’t like to think about it, and was a bit cross when I suddenly developed magic.”

Horatio listened, trying to put a temporary family tree together in his head, trying to figure out just how much Addams blood Dudley could possibly have.

“Also, I think your mum and my mum were related?”

“Which mom? ‘Mom’, or ‘Mother’?”

“What’s the difference?”

“Birth mom, or adopted mother.”

“Oh, uh… I don’t know, actually, Mum just said I was related to this ‘Horatio Addams’ kid… never specified directly.”

“Huh… So, do you want to be called ‘Dud’? Or do you have another option I could use?”

Dudley shook his head, “No, Dud’s got negative… feelings associated… how does your family do naming?”

“I’m named after Horatio Addams the first. He has a portrait in the school somewhere. My siblings are Wednesday Friday Addams, Puggsley Portens Addams, and my younger brother, Pubert Ichor Addams…”

“Uh…”

Sho leaned in close, “I could grab the family tree from Mother and we could go looking, see if any names catch your eye? Ooo! I could make you a conjoined twin! Nice conversation starter?”

Dudley smiled at least, so Horatio knew his relative’s humor was at least a little strange as well.

“Hmm… I could take a couple hours and… I dunno, just let my brain stew? Give you a couple options later today?”

“Let’s go with that one for now. Where can I find you later?”

“I’ve got a free period after potions… I’ll hang out in the great hall.”

“See you there.”

Horatio Addams goes power mad - Gitchy - Harry Potter (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

Chapter Text