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~We Open Our Story To The Sight Of An Old Man Anyone Magical Would Be Able To Recognize As One Albus Dumbledore Setting A Basket On The Stoop Of No 4, Private Drive~
Professor Albus Too-Many-Middle-Names Dumbledore cast one last look at the doorstep of No 4 Private Drive where the hope of the Wizarding World, the Slayer of Darkness, the Girl Who Lived, Harriet Roselle Potter lay sleeping unaware of her surroundings. Albus had placed the sleeping One year old in an old basket with her blanket to keep her warm and a letter addressed to her Adopted Aunt Petunia, her Aunt Lily's elder sister. Everything he'd looked into, researched, planned and, prepared for said this was the right call, that this was what would lead the little girl to growing into someone Dumbledore could mold and use to drive back the Dark Lord Voldemort when he inevitably returned from the dead. What Albus did not know was that Tom wasn't dead, he'd used a spell to make it seem like he'd died in the Potter home where he and Dumbledore had fought. While the Wizarding World was lead to believe it was Tom who killed the Potters, in reality it was Dumbledore who'd kill the Potter siblings after learning they were going to become neutral in order to avoid leaving Harriet an Orphan. Especially since Harriet's sire was literally Lord Voldemort aka Tom himself. But Dumbledore didn't know this very important fact so, he left the sleeping girl vulnerable on the steps in the middle of an unusually cold night in October. This sequence of events was most familiar to the multiverse, as it had played out any number of times. Young Harry/Harriet Potter would grow up with the Dursleys, the pain of that life variable depending on how dark that particular branch of the timeline grew, and what events had slipped in before or after depending. Either way, the young Potter would grow up unaware of magic, only to be enraptured when he/she discovered it and caught up in the conflicts and miracles thereof. In any number of timelines, Dumbledore's plan would carry out -as far as it went- and the name of Harry/Harriet Potter would again become a Hero/Heroine to the Wizarding World. However...this is not one of those timelines.
This time Instead of Harriet/Harry being raised by his hatful relatives she was discovered by a squat, bald man who'd been wandering around revealing in the songs of the dark. "What's this? Who'd leave a baby outside in the cold?" The man asks confused. With a shrug the man scoops the sleeping baby, basket and all. The movement cause the little one to stir. With a glare at the blurry figure of the man holding her Harriet gave her best growl which the man just laughed maniacally at. "Come along with me little lass, Uncle Fester will bring you home." The man, now known as Fester cooed giving the child, -who'd been gnawing on the man's pale finger- a reptilian phalange to gnaw on instead. With a content coo from the little girl in his arms, Fester Addams sets off in the one direction every Addams instinctively knew to go, the knowledge in their very blood whether they were born of the clan or brought into it because they belonged...the way home. When he and Harriet crossed the threshold of the Mansion the Addams' currently called home the little one began to change, her previously olive skin turned ivory white and her hazel eyes sharpened while her previously dark auburn hair became pitch black, and grew until it touched her mid back. Harriet giggled happily as she grew a mustache.
"Oh my, you're not a girl at all...you're a boy!" Fester exclaims excitedly before seeking out his elder brother Gomez. "Gomez!" Fester calls out happily. "In here brother!" Gomez replies from the living room where he was sitting on the couch, his face thoughtful yet blank in a way only an Addams could achieve. Gomez Addams stroked his mustache thoughtfully as he looked down at the small child his brother had brought him. It was plain as the nose on his face - and the mustache beneath it - that the boy was a part of the Clan Magic now, blood or no blood. At the same time, he kept giggling as the sprouting mustache hairs tickled his nose, his scar glowing in the dim light that was the preferred illumination within the manor. "You've put me in a bit of a pickle, Fester my brother," he observed awkwardly. "How's that Gomez?" Fester asks worried he was being more of a burden than he should be as the younger of the two brothers, but he was the only young married male of the family who was currently living. Despite family bonds, the dead or undecided family members wouldn't do well to raise a child, as they only walked the earth one night a year. "He...he is an Addams." Fester replies nervously.
"Oh yes," Gomez confirmed, kneeling down to look closer at the young lad. He seemed to be a year old at most. Old enough that nursing wasn't really a concern, but still young enough to require constant care until he'd adjusted to the macabre chaos that was the Addams' manor. Admittedly, the estate had already adapted to him somewhat, as the guard dragon was curled up around the chair the boy was set in rather than its usual post, and the various serpents that slunk through the grass had left the yard to hang from the rafters above him. He'd certainly fit right in. "He most certainly is an Addams...and that is the quandary. As a man of the Clan, I certainly cannot turn my back on a child of the family who needs parenting. However, my darling Morticia just gave birth." Gomez replies voice grave. "Ah..." Fester allowed nervously, his eyes twitching back and forth. Morticia may have married into the Clan when she wed Gomez, but if anything she was more of an Addams than any who had borne the name before she married. Not only that, every Addams male knew to step carefully around the women of the Clan when children first arrived. You never knew where they had hidden knives or who knows what, or where they would stick them if you crossed them. However, a different obligation now fell on Fester. "Congratulations, brother. Boy or girl?" Fester asks curiously. "I've got a horribly beautiful baby girl, we've named her Wednesday after my beloved Tish's favorite poem." Gomez replies easily.
Chapter 2: Chapter Two
Chapter Text
"Wednesday will be an absolute delight as she grows up, and Morticia and I are over the moon!" His voice dipped somewhat. "But to drop another child on top of that...I do not know how Morticia will handle it." Gomez adds gravely. "That is a conundrum," Fester allowed worriedly. "As delightfully chaotic and destructive as they are, children are a lot of work..." Fester admits. "And even with Grandmother, there's only so much of us to go around," Gomez observed thoughtfully. "She is...not exactly reliable. And as caretakers for children, that is not ideal, however delightful it is otherwise." Gomez adds rubbing his forehead. "I'd be happy to stick around until things are settled, if you think that will help!" Fester offered eagerly. "I brought the boy into the Clan, it's only right I help with him if it's needed or would be appreciated."
"Gladly would I welcome your help, or even just your presence my brother!" Gomez declared exuberantly. "But when the dark flower of my heart has only just now brought our sweet night tulip into the world, how am I to explain another child she did not expect as part of the family?" He turned to the chair, only for his face to pale. "Who can teleport, apparently." It was true, there was no sign of young Harry, and the guard dragon and the serpents were staring at the empty spot in shock. "He can't have gotten far!" Fester insisted urgently as he leapt to his feet. "He must be on the grounds somewhere!"
"True enough," Gomez allowed, trying not to think of all the delightfully horrible and horrifyingly delightful dangers that still left as possible locations. The guillotines, the electric chairs, the acid pits, the alligator moats, the iron maidens, the flesh eating armoires, and most terrifying of all-"Gomez, darling," a calm, quiet, gentle voice called down the stairs. "Would you and dear Fester come up here, please? It seems there's something here that needs an explanation." -his wife.
Swallowing convulsively, the pair of brothers climbed the stairs with all the enthusiasm other men might approach the executioner's block. For them, that would have been a fun vacation...especially compared to dear sweet Tish in a moment of pique. As they entered the nursery, they found Morticia standing over Wednesday's cradle, a thoughtful frown on her face as she seemed to glide over the floor, her black dress clinging to her every curve in delightfully suggestive ways that contrasted with her pale skin and ruby lips to give the perfect image of undying beauty and terrifying sensuality...though now giving the appearance of an avenging demoness. "I freely admit I might be mistaken, darling," she began gently. "After all, between the exquisite agony of the process and the ecstasy of the bonding of first nursing, my memory of events might be a bit muddled...but I was pretty sure I only gave birth to one child." She turned an arch look on the two brothers as she gestured into the crib. Inside, Samael was sitting against the bars, glancing down in wonder at little Wednesday. The all but newborn Addams had her head in his lap and was nuzzling into him as he rested one hand in her pitch black hair.
"Ah...t-that's my fault," Fester stammered awkwardly. "See, I found the boy -his name's Samael- in England, and knew him for an Addams. So did the Clan Magic. So I brought him here..." Fester explains wringing his hands anxiously. "Oh?" Morticia pressed, one eyebrow rising delicately on her forehead. "According to the letter left with him, he's an orphan! And his sire is a distant relative if his birth certificate I picked up from Gringotts on the way home with him. "Indeed?" Morticia asked, a trifle more relaxed in tone as she leaned over the young boy, idly brushing his hair aside as she took in his scar. "Goodness." Morticia says breathlessly. "And since a child like that needs a Father and a Mother, and Fester remembered we wanted children..." Gomez began awkwardly. "And he arrived just after we sent the announcement of Wednesday's birth?" Morticia continued, her lips turning up slightly at the corners. "I-I'll stick around to help!" Fester promised fervently. "Please say you'll take him in, and won't hold it against my brother?"
Morticia's lips quirked up a little higher. "And how could I hold it against him?" she asked, amusement now rich in her voice. "It's not like I gave him much more warning before bringing a child into the household." She idly stroked Samael's hair. "And I can tell he'll be a credit to the clan." Fester and Gomez both let out relieved sighs, deflating slightly as the tension left them. Gomez smiled widely. "Mi amore..." he began lovingly, stepping up behind Morticia as she gazed into the crib. "I never should have doubted-" Gomez began before Morticia interrupts him. "No you shouldn't have," Morticia teased. "But for now, be quiet. Time enough for the chaos they'll bring awake when they wake on their own." She hisses softly. Glancing over her shoulder, Gomez saw that Samael had fallen asleep as well. "Sleep well, little Addams," he whispered all but silently as he followed his wife back to their room, quietly shutting the door behind himself.
It was a surprisingly short time before the Family had adjusted to Samael's presence and quirks. Samael embraced the oddities of being an Addams relatively quickly, completely at home in the creepy and cooky atmosphere. He could frequently be found laughing as he clambered around the guillotines, the acid pits, or the iron maidens like they were jungle gyms. The alligators found themselves quite unnerved when he started riding them through their moat like they were pool floats. All of this fit right in with the Addams Clan, so it barely raised an eyebrow. Even things flying about when he wanted them to was nothing worth noting: they had a poltergeist cousin who'd taken up residence in some old castle in Britain that stopped by every few years (It's Peeves, their cousin is Peeves). Apparently, his time sense was thrown off by something in the castle, which was why he didn't show every year like he was supposed to. The one thing that did catch them off guard had to do with Wednesday. Samael was very protective of his little sister.