Saw a thing on facebook and was inspired. Since inspiration is so rare, I took advantage. Hopefully, I won’t lose interest before I finish this, as I have lots of fun ideas for later parts.
Obvious disclaimer is obvious: I don’t own Harry Potter or the Addams Family and am making no money off of this.
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October 7, 1985
Morticia Addams watched with pursed lips as her beautiful young daughter stalked onto the stage, dressed as a ridiculous pink rabbit. Her husband openly cringed at the sight, even as his mother-in-law leaned over and whispered, “At least the teacher let her keep the black apron and bow. Took us most of the night to replicate the pattern of that terrible blue one and replace it.”
Gomez grumbled under his breath, giving the chubby toddler on his knee a few bounces to keep them both calm. Pugsley glanced at the stage where the noises were coming from and wrinkled his nose at all the bright colors. All four fought to contain themselves as they sat though the monstrosity before them.
The first year play was over soon enough, thank LeFey. The Addamses hurriedly shuffled out of the primary school theater, glad to take a relaxing stroll through the night chill for a while as they waited for the older students to finish their mockeries of music and theater. They returned just in time for the release of the children back into the custody of their families.
As Gomez fawned over Wednesday, apologizing for not being able to convince the school board to replace the program with something more age appropriate, Morticia noticed a pair of boys nearly trip over her dress as the larger brother pulled the smaller one through the crowd. She reached out to help steady them and gathered up her skirt so it wouldn’t happen again. The small boy flinched slightly at her touch and mumbled a polite thank you, before being yanked off again. She watched them go.
The one who had spoken to her was adorably gaunt, with dark circles around his eyes and a lovely pallor. The other was unfortunately rosy cheeked, but had a pleasant girth and admirable strength for one his age. Together, they rather reminded her of Fester’s childhood photos.
The two made their way to a woman in a crisp dress made of pastel fabric and a large man in a neat brown suit. The gaunt boy took after his mother in build and eye color, but his dark hair obviously came from the father. His brother, on the other hand, had the mother’s light hair and the father’s roundness. She couldn’t quite see how the parents combined to get that wonderfully pale skin in their smaller child, but perhaps they were simply better at maintaining a healthy diet with him given his temperament.
Morticia leaned down to kiss Wednesday on the cheek – whispering as she did so, “I can see the scissors behind your back, darling. Go put them away; they’re not sharp enough for whatever you have in mind,” – then excused herself from the group.
She approached the family with an aristocratic grace. “Pardon me. I just wanted to say your children are quite delectable, and surprisingly well-mannered for their age. You must be very proud of them.”
The woman pulled her mouth into a tight smile. “Well, yes, of course we are quite proud of our boy Dudley. He’s an absolute jewel. That one,” she gave a terse gesture toward the smaller boy, “isn’t actually ours. We graciously allowed him into our home after the drunken louts he had for parents got themselves killed in a motor accident. We do what we can with him, but of course, one can’t completely escape one’s breeding.” Her husband nodded sagely, ruffling his son’s hair with one hand and keeping a tight grip on their foster child’s shoulder. Dudley grinned at the praise he received and, almost on cue, sneered at the smaller one, who kept a steady gaze on the floor.
Morticia tilted her head back a few degrees and looked at them through lidded eyes. “I see. Well, may I ask how you manage to keep the order in your household, given your… situation?”
Dudley’s mother motioned toward the gaunt boy’s clothes, which were, upon closer inspection, obviously the wrong size and rather ragged. “Well for starters, we make sure he never forgets his place. He’s ungrateful as it is for the roof over his head; we don’t need him becoming dependent on handouts. He works for everything he has. If he doesn’t earn it, he doesn’t get it.” She turned to gaze lovingly at her son. “After all, we can’t have a lazy good-for-nothing taking food from our poor Dudder’s mouth, can we?”
The wealthy matriarch slowly crossed her arms and went inhumanly still. Her demure smile widened ever so slightly, distracting from the cold darkness that peeked out under her long eyelashes. “Well, discipline is a very important lesson to teach one’s children. Speaking of which, I must be going, to ensure my own brood don’t lose theirs. I am glad to have met you…?”
“Petunia Dursley,” the woman supplied. “And this is my husband, Vernon.”
The man straightened his suit jacket. “Happy to meet such a charming, well-bred woman.”
“Indeed,” Morticia purred. “Have a good evening.”
***
It took less convincing to get Gomez on board with her plan than it did to persuade him that his part in it would be to take their two children home and put them to bed. She loved her man a great deal, but his Gryffindor spark just couldn’t be bothered to use subtlety. It was difficult enough to keep him from loudly challenging Vernon to a duel right there.
Grandmama was quite gleeful at the chance to use the emergency stash of potions she kept in the trunk of the family hearse, but had to apparate home to retrieve and quickly clean the large carpet bag she used for transporting bodies. She couldn’t quite remember when she’d last emptied it, either; perhaps some fond memories would come with the chore.
Morticia gave Lurch his and Thing’s assignment before he left to drive Gomez and the children home, then pulled her spindly grey wand from her sleeve. A few muttered words later, and the Dursleys didn’t notice the disillusioned witch following their car home on her summoned broom.
Procrastinating In Public 