Year 2

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"Unicorn blood! You do love me!"

"Of course I do." Harry smiled indulgently as his sister hugged him, then grabbed her wrist and spun her out. The knife in her hand glinted maddeningly in the candlelight. "Minx."

"You said you were rusty!"

"Yes, I believe I did."

Something whispered through the air and he leapt back, his eyes snapping up to look at the second floor railing. The dynamite exploded a foot away, peppering his open umbrella with shrapnel. A particularly sharp piece sliced through the lace and he caught it in one hand.

"Honestly, Pugsley."

Wednesday executed a textbook backflip, pulling a particularly wicked cleaver off one wall. Pugsley hefted another bomb. This looked bigger.

Harry smiled and took out his fan. Its edge flared silver in the dim light.

"Look at them." Morticia's voice was calm over the metallic din.

"Yes," Gomez' teeth were clenched around a newly lit cigar, his arm around his wife as they looked on. Sawdust and smoke were already making it hard to see. "Madmen, the whole lot."

"It's so nice to have them home again."

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

Harry glared at the contents of his closet. There was an eep, and a scaly, graying hand was withdrawn, vanishing in front of Hermione's fascinated eyes.

"I leave for a year and everyone forgets their manners." He said. "Bloody boogeymen..."

"Don't worry about it, Harry." There was a two-inch tear down the side of her blouse, but there was no blood. "I can sew it up in a jiffy."

"You're too kind. I've got something that will fit you. Wait just a sec."

Harry stepped into his closet. There was a faint gurgling, and then the sound of someone kicking at a sack of wet meat. Hermione winced at a thin, high wail that pierced the air, then it was cut off, and Harry stepped out again, a dress in his hands. It was black, and she hadn't expected any other color, but it differed from all the other dresses that Harry wore because the roses printed on it weren't wilted.

"It's very pretty."

"You can keep it. It isn't my style anyway. I'm not one for flowers."

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

There was only one way to describe this place: Pure Bedlam.

Blaise ducked yet another arrow that whistled overhead, pulling Draco down with him. This was not the way he imagined his summer.

"Stay still, damn you!"

"Skunks aren't pets, Maman."

"No, they're dinner!"

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

"Harveste, are you sure this is safe?"

Harry chuckled behind his hand. He had been certain Wednesday would have strapped someone into the Chair sooner, but his friends were surprisingly adept at hiding and evasion. There was hope for them yet.

Draco blinked at him from the Chair. The metal around his wrists and forehead were the exact shade of his eyes. "Harveste?"

"Safety is just another state of mind." Wednesday whispered darkly, a grim smile pasted on her face as she clutched the throw lever. "Ready?"

"Ah-"

"Darlings! Tea!"

"We're just...doing something, Mother! Won't take a minute!"

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