Harveste Addams (PotterxAddams)

Year Three

Harry looked up at the ceiling. Or more accurately from this position, he looked down at the ceiling.

Wednesday hadn't caught him in over five years. School had slowed him down horribly. At that moment, Harry decided he was going to train like the bollocks during his third year. Getting caught was embarrassing.

"You know I'm going to kill you when I get out of here," he said conversationally, fingers already working on the locks. The potion under his head burped, releasing a gas bubble that turned the tips of his hair orange. "Correction. I'm going to dismember you first and gouge out your eyes. Then I'll kill you."

"If you get out of there, brother. I've been working on it all year." His evil darling of a sister smiled at him, all crisp in her pinafore and just begging for the attentions of the Iron Maiden.

Snick.

"I'm in a good mood. I'll give you until the count of three. Or maybe two."

-.-.-.-...-.-.-.-

Blaise looked into his luggage and tapped his fingers against his lips. Then he added another vial of antidote, just in case.

His mother was floating around the house in a state of ecstasy. He could see the corner of her dress slide past his doorway every five minutes as she tried to pack everything she thought she would need. She had been in her own little world ever since her son had told her that Harry's summer invitation extended to her as well.

"I can't believe I'm going to meet the Addams family! I just can't believe it!"

"Hooray," he muttered darkly as he tried to cram three large bottles of boil cure next to the crossbow. "Another week of fun and games."

"I'll meet Morticia Addams! They tell me she's divine!"

"Ha!" Where was that industrial-strength bug spray? "I'm sure you'll have a lot in common, Mother."

Her face appeared like the moon from behind a cloud, her dark eyes wide with hope. "Do you think so? I'd be so ashamed if I couldn't keep up conversation over tea."

"Trust me, Mother." Bandages, bandages... "Just a few minutes and no one will ever find my fathers again."

-.-.-.-...-.-.-.-

Hermione snuffled into her handkerchief. She had been crying ever since the fourth chapter.

The story was dark and heart-wrenching. It spoke of pain experienced too young, and abandonment and betrayal. There were scars of all sorts, physical, mental and emotional. There were vivid accounts of rape and murder, with gruesome deaths every other page. As Harry read, he could feel the words rake their poisoned claws over his soul, reaching into his mind to plant tears of sadness, madness, shame, lust, fury. It was a story that could reduce any killer to mindless sobbing in the rain, to sit in the electric chair and throw his own switch, to drag broken glass against his veins and just end it all.

Hermione blew her nose again.

He closed the book with finality and smiled at his baby brother. Pubert cooed and grabbed his finger.

Draco's mouth hung open. "I can't believe you read him that! He's just a baby!"

"Oh, he likes it. It's your favorite book, isn't it, my darling little graverobber?"

Pubert gurgled again and burped. Harry ducked out of the way just in time to avoid the flaming arrow.

-.-.-.-...-.-.-.-

Harry whisked his plate off the table and slid under it. The explosion would have ripped the wooden table apart if it hadn't had been able to withstand years upon years of Addams abuse already. It was nearly indestructible. It was like granite, bulletproof glass and sheets of metal all rolled into one.