Family Values
Dumbledore vs. Addams, Round 2
By Ishtar
FAMILY VALUES
Disclaimer: Boy, do I wish I’d thought of that Ultimate Disclaimer thing first. Kinsfire doesn’t need the word count, dammit! Anyway. I don’t own anything. No werewolves, golems, or kumquats were harmed in the writing of this chapter.
Chapter 08: Dumbledore vs. Addams, Round 2
Remus enjoyed taking his morning tea in a little gazebo in the back gardens of the House. Nobody else used it much, although there were a couple of crossbow bolts sticking into the wood, which meant somebody had been using it for target practice recently. It offered a good view of both the cemetery to the north and the bog and the hills beyond to the west. At this time of day, just after dawn, there was a little mist hanging over the bog. It was quite picturesque, and he could almost believe he was the only person around for miles.
From the first moment he set foot in those hills they called mountains, he had felt the Wild Magic surging around him, rich and dark and potent. It spoke to the wolf inside him, which was just as Wild and dark. In England, he had always felt constrained to keep the wolf under tight control, which only served to make it more painful when it inevitably broke free on nights of the full moon. During the years he had spent here, he had learned not to hold it back, and even to make use of it. The Wild Magic of the Watchungs gave him strength. He wondered, a little morosely, what it would be like to go back to Britain and its tightly constrained magic. There was the Forbidden Forest near Hogwarts, that was true, but that was the only large Wild Magic area left. The rest were little patches of strangeness that bore the same resemblance to Wild Magic that a hedgerow did to the Forest.
But go back to Britain he must. Harry was on the verge of turning eleven, and would start at Hogwarts in September. Plans had been laid, and today they would start putting them into effect, for today was the day Minerva McGonagall was scheduled to bring Harry his Hogwarts letter.
He finished his tea, pouring the dregs out onto the planting of wormwood around the base of the gazebo, and returned the cup to the kitchen, where he met Lurch, who was to be doing chauffeur duty for him today. He could very well have Apparated to town and brought Professor McGonagall back with him, but the effect of the House and Family was best achieved by the slower, more theatrical presentation of the drive up the hill. "Good morning, Lurch. How are you this fine day? Are you ready to go pick up our guest?" he asked.
Lurch looked at him and groaned in response. Over the years Remus had learned to interpret the nuances of Lurch’s groans, almost as well as the rest of the Family. The big golem only knew a few words, and liked to use them at any opportunity, but the other sounds he made were quite expressive.
"I agree," said Remus. "It’s going to be far too hot for this suit today. But there’s nothing for it; have to do the Family proud, after all. Shall we?" He accompanied Lurch out to the converted stable which served to garage the classic Fleetwood, and they drove the reasonably short distance to Arcanum Hall. There were, of course, the necessary two parking spaces for the car — he really didn’t know how Lurch did it, but there were always two spaces anywhere he needed to park, and Remus suspected it was some small magic only Lurch knew. Remus went to the upstairs hall and loitered about for a few moments. At exactly nine o’clock, there was a muffled ‘thump’ from inside the janitor’s closet, and a moment later, a dignified looking woman emerged from it as if the janitor’s closet were someplace she could normally be found emerging from.
"Professor McGonagall, how good to see you again!" said Remus.
"Excuse me, I don’t believe we’ve — why, good heavens, Remus Lupin! I’ve wondered where you’d gone!"
"I’m surprised the Headmaster didn’t tell you — I’ve been doing a little tutoring for the children."
"Well, yes, he did say he had someone he trusted watching over the Potter boy. I just never dreamed it was you! No wonder he wasn’t worried. Now let me look at you a moment, you’ve changed so!" Remus smiled as she gave him a thorough once-over. Professor McGonagall was scrupulously fair and tried not to play favourites among her students, but she had confessed after he had left school that she had always been concerned about him. He had dressed particularly well this morning, at least partially to show his Head of House that he had, indeed, landed on his feet. "You seem very relaxed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that. And that’s a very handsome suit. Is that … Remus Lupin, are you wearing an earring?"
"Observant as ever, Professor," he said, fingering the platinum stud in his right ear. "It’s my Portkey to the Werewolf Reserve. As long as I wear this, I need never fear hurting anyone by accident, and American witches and wizards know I’m no danger. Of course, I sometimes do get some other kinds of attention, but that can’t be helped."
"Werewolf Reserve? You must tell me all about that. I’ve never heard of any such thing."
"No, you wouldn’t have, more’s the pity. But please, the car is waiting, and blocking up traffic, I’m sure." He offered Professor McGonagall his arm gallantly, and the two descended to street level.
The car was indeed blocking up traffic. Even though it was properly parked, as always, cars driving by slowed as the drivers gawked at either Lurch, the car, or both. The pavement, however, was quite clear, as pedestrians didn’t seem to care to walk too close to Lurch, who was standing next to the car trying to look casual, but couldn’t do ‘casual’ if his life depended on it. Most people chose to cross the street to the other side, which delayed the traffic even more. As Remus and Professor McGonagall emerged onto the street, Lurch calmly opened the car door for them, and then, when they were seated, went round to the driver’s compartment. Traffic became even more snarled as he pulled out of the parking spot and three other cars vied for the two spots vacated, but Lurch didn’t care, directing the elderly limousine slowly and majestically through the streets.
"Well! I must say you’ve come up in the world," said McGonagall to Remus. "A car and a chauffeur! And that suit!"
"I must confess that I’m little more than an employee, no matter what Mr Addams says. Possibly I’ve achieved the status of ‘family retainer,’ like Lurch there. The Addamses seem to find my skills useful, and I’m paid well enough, plus room and board, so I really can’t complain."
"And do they know about …?" she asked, gesturing at the earring.
"Oh, of course. I really couldn’t hide the fact that I have four legs and fur two nights a month. At first, of course, I simply planned to leave well before the full moon, but when it became evident that I was going to stay, other arrangements had to be made. Hence the Werewolf Reserve. It really has made things much easier."
0o0o0o0o0
In the first days of his stay with the Family, Remus was filled with terror that grew with the waxing moon becoming more and more agitated. He had no idea how the Americans, and most importantly the Addamses, looked at lycanthropes. Would they look at him in disgust and turf him out? Would they simply put him down like a mad beast? Was interment in the cemetery the best that he could hope for? How long could he hide his condition? He had the run of the House, and discovered, in the labyrinthine cellars of the House, a small, empty, almost cell-like room, with stone walls and an oak door that was lined with metal on the inside and could be locked from either side. Into this room he brought a metal box with a combination lock of a type which he knew was impossible for him to open while he was transformed. As the first full moon approached, he locked himself in the room, casting silencing charms and an additional locking spell on the door. He stripped, since he did not have so many clothes that he could afford to lose any, folding his clothing and putting it in the box, then placed his wand and a supply of potions that he knew from experience he would need inside the box as well. Finally, he locked it and wrapped himself in an old blanket, waiting for moonrise and the first pangs of transformation.
The next morning, when he woke among the remains of the shredded blanket, he opened the battered box, took his potions and dressed. It was still early enough that he might be able to make it back to his room without anyone being the wiser. However, as he emerged from the cellars, he found Morticia and Gomez waiting for him, with a cup of hot tea — fortunately not the abomination that Morticia called tea, but something drinkable by anyone else.
"Lupin, old man, how long were you going to wait before telling us that you were a werewolf?" asked Gomez with what Remus was beginning to learn was his customary geniality.
"I, er, was hoping it wouldn’t be necessary," said Remus, wincing as a muscle twinged when he sat down at the heavy oaken table. "It’s not something I generally advertise to strangers."
"You’re hardly a stranger here. You’ve been with us, what — three weeks now? The children love you."
Well, Remus thought, they might love me now, but I haven’t forgot that all three of them threatened my life when I first came here — and meant it, too. After dinner that first night, Pugsley had let Remus know that he knew lots of ways to blow someone up that didn’t depend on magic at all, and that he wouldn’t hesitate to use them if Remus hurt either Harry or Wednesday. Then Wednesday had cornered him to inform him, quite seriously, that as Harry’s betrothed — and hadn’t that come as a shock — she would have no trouble whatsoever destroying him if he even looked like he was going to cause harm to Harry. Apparently she thought Pugsley could take care of himself. Then all three of them simply dropped the matter, as if they knew that making the threat once was enough, and settled into relatively normal childlike behaviour patterns.
"I’m their tutor," Remus answered wryly. "They won’t love me when I give them their next pop quiz, I’ll tell you that."
"They care enough. Last night all three of them were trying to get into that room, convinced something horrible was happening to you."
"Something was," said Remus, horrified that the children were trying to get in to where he was. If he hadn’t spelled the door shut, they might have managed it. He didn’t want to know how they’d found him or how they got through the silencing spells. "I can’t stay, then. I’ve put the children — everyone — in danger by even being here. I’ll pack my things and leave immediately."
"You’ll do no such thing!" said Morticia sharply. "You’re in no condition to be going anywhere, and tomorrow morning will be even worse, will it not?"
Remus nodded, keeping his eyes cast down at his tea. He didn’t want to meet their gaze.
"Then it’s settled. I’ll call Dr MacIntyger in … an hour," Gomez said, checking his watch. "She owes me a favour or two. She can get someone over here right away to check you out, and we can have you enrolled at the Reserve by nightfall. I guarantee you, it will be much more comfortable than the cellar."
"What? Dr … who? Reserve? I’m sorry, I’m totally lost," said Remus.
"No, no. Different doctor," said Gomez. "Lycanthrope specialist. One of the best. You do see a specialist in England, don’t you?"
"Can’t say as I do. Kind of thin on the ground there, you know."
"Well, with six different kinds of weres in the United States, we need specialists. And reserves so they can’t hurt anyone."
"You pen your werewolves up in reserves?" Remus asked, horrified.
"Pen them up? Of course not," said Morticia, reaching out to rest her cool, slim fingers on the back of Remus’s hand. "Think of it as more like a camping area in the middle of a very large forest, with an infirmary attached. Anyone who needs to can go there, run through the woods at night, get medical attention and sleep the day after, then return to their homes."
"And who pays for all this?"
"Why, we will, of course, since you’re doing us the favour of tutoring the children," said Gomez. "We wouldn’t be treating you very well if we locked you in the cellar every month, now would we? Unless you like that sort of thing."
"No, not particularly."
"Good. Then Lurch will help you up to your room. I’ll have one of the children bring up a breakfast tray, and we’ll let you know when the doctor gets here."
Morticia rose and pulled one of the hangman’s nooses that seemed to be in every room in the house, and Lurch appeared with his customary rapidity. "You raaang?"
"Lurch, please take Remus up to his room and make sure he goes straight to bed. Then send Grandmama to him. She may have some potions for you to take," she said to Remus. "Don’t worry. Everything will be taken care of."
One can’t resist a seven foot tall, three hundred pound nursemaid, even if one is a werewolf, so Remus soon found himself tucked in his own bed, and all three of the children showed up with his breakfast tray. They climbed up on the foot of the bed and watched intently to make sure he ate everything, all the while questioning him about changing into a werewolf, and did it hurt a lot, and could they see the scar where he was bitten please?
By the time he’d managed to shoo the children out, the enigmatic Dr MacIntyger was there to give him a thorough physical and fuss at him for not taking adequate care of himself, given his condition. She prescribed a course of nutrient potions and a high-protein diet to build up his strength, muscle relaxants for before and after transformations, and a calming potion to be taken immediately before the change so that the wolf wouldn’t be maddened by the pain and bite itself. The last was very strong, as it had to be in order to keep from being burned off completely during the change itself. Finally, she said she didn’t see any reason why he wouldn’t be able to come to the Reserve, starting that very night, gave him a reusable Portkey and a handful of pamphlets that described the Reserve and recent advances in lycanthropic medicine, and showed herself out.
That night, for the first time, he had transformed surrounded by others of his kind, and run with a pack under the light of the full moon. It reminded him of his school days and the Marauders, and the next morning he had wept, for them and for himself, and let himself begin to heal.
Since then, he had gone to the Reserve every month, learning to treat it as a mini-holiday the way the other werewolves did. He learned that American werewolves could look forward almost to the life expectancy of normal wizards, instead of burning themselves out the way they usually did in Europe, and the Reserve system was the main reason why. There was rumour that a new treatment would be available soon, one that would allow the werewolf to keep his or her human mind, and everyone was very excited about that, since self-inflicted wounds were still the major cause of health problems for lycanthropes. He had obtained a permanent Portkey to the Reserve in the form of an ear stud that was charmed not to come out unless he took it out. He could trigger it to bring him to the Reserve at any time prior to moonrise. If he was asleep or unconscious, it would take him to the Reserve automatically. And if he couldn’t make it back to the infirmary on his own after a night’s run, it would allow the Reserve Healers (and only them) to track him.
The Reserve, he reflected, had probably saved his life. He didn’t know how much longer he could have gone on as he was.
He hadn’t found out until years later that The Addams Foundation was the sponsor of it all.
0o0o0o0o0
Minerva McGonagall was impressed, against her will, with the circumstances in which one of her favourite students had found himself. She had always worried that the young werewolf, even though he was skilled and knowledgeable and had passed his N.E.W.T.s with flying colours, would not be able to get or hold a job. Her fears had been justified in the years after he left school. While his friends, even the far less talented Peter Pettigrew, had gone on to promising careers, Lupin had languished in a limbo of unskilled labourer’s jobs. He could work only two weeks a month, since most employers wouldn’t risk having him on a work site the week before or the week after the full moon. If he didn’t tell an employer about his curse, they generally found out anyway, since the symptoms couldn’t be hidden very well, and then they fired Lupin for lying to them. Eventually he’d taken to supplementing his income with Muggle day labour jobs, and McGonagall had feared he would eventually be driven to a life of petty crime to supplement his meagre wages, as so many were forced to. To see him now, relaxed and happy, without that aura of haunted misery that had used to follow him everywhere, spoke volumes for his employers.
Her concerns about the upbringing of Harry Potter, too, were somewhat relieved. She had doubted, all those years ago, that leaving the young child with Petunia Dursley was the right thing to do. It was bad enough that Muggle-born children came to Hogwarts with no knowledge of the Wizarding world, but for a child born to a Wizard family to be deprived of that heritage was unthinkable. It was even more unthinkable if that child was a scion of a powerful family like the Potters. How would he ever learn what he needed to in order to take his place in society as an adult? Albus had insisted that he would make up for it later, but she wasn’t so sure.
Yet it all seemed to have worked out somehow, even if she wasn’t sure exactly how Albus had arranged it, for she was sure he had. With Remus as a tutor, she knew that Potter would know everything he needed to about the basics of magic, and now she realized that he would not be lacking in the social graces either, if the people he was staying with had a car like this and clothed their servants the way they did the chauffeur and Remus. She laughed when Remus told her stories about Harry’s childhood, like the year he and Pugsley had spent in the Cub Scouts. They had been asked to leave after their first major camp out, when they had decided that a neighbouring pack had better snacks and organised their pack to build seige engines and take the other pack’s campsite by storm. The plot had failed only when they discovered that nobody had brought a stone suitable for use in their trebuchet.
Her laughter, and her confidence, ebbed somewhat when the car passed through the gates and the house came into sight. The years had not been kind to it, and the contrast between the classic car and the battered building puzzled her.
Remus escorted her from the car and in through the front door, where she was temporarily blinded by the contrast between the brilliant morning sun outdoors and the shadows of the interior. From there, he escorted her into a dimly lit parlour, where a slim, dark-haired woman was engaged in placing stitches into a piece of fine blackwork. Remus made the introductions and then rang for tea, the loud gonging of the bell startling Minerva almost as badly as the instant appearance of the butler. She expected that of house elves but this was not what she expected in a Muggle home.
"Professor McGonagall, it’s a pleasure to meet you at last. Remus has told me much about you. I’m glad that the children will get a chance to learn from such a renowned witch."
It almost got past her. "I hope I can live up to his … excuse me, did you say ‘children’?"
"My son and daughter have grown up with Harry, and they’ll be accompanying him, of course."
"You do understand that Hogwarts is a school for witches and wizards, Mrs Addams. Your children simply will-"
"My children have been earning excellent grades at the Salem Witches’ Institute. They went co-ed some years ago, but kept the name for historical reasons. Harry has been going there, too, of course."
"Oh. Oh, dear." Minerva was seriously off balance. Albus hadn’t mentioned that there might be other magical children in the family, or that Harry had started at a magical school other than Hogwarts. It was possible, of course, that he hadn’t known … then she glanced at Remus, and knew from the regretful look on his face that he had reported it all, and that Albus simply hadn’t told her.
"Perhaps now would be a good time for you to meet the children," Mrs Addams suggested, and Minerva agreed. Again Remus pulled the disturbing bell-pull, and again the butler appeared with astonishing speed. "Lurch, would you bring the children here, please? They should be in the library with Gomez. Thank you. My husband," she told Minerva by way of explanation. "The children have been working on Wizarding History with him, to get a jump on next year’s classes."
"What exactly have they been learning at Salem?" inquired Minerva. She couldn’t imagine that children younger than eleven would be ready for any serious work, but perhaps they were getting a good foundation in theory. That could only benefit them.
"Oh, the usual," Mrs Addams said, counting on her fingers. "Enchantments, Transmogrification, Jinxes and Hexes. Brews. History. Herbalism. Then they’ve each taken electives, of course. Harry has Cryptozoology and Numerology. Pugsley has Numerology and Symbology. And Wednesday has Cryptozoology and Divination."
Minerva blinked. She would have to communicate with Salem to find out exactly what those courses entailed. Only two of them seemed to be the same as at Hogwarts. And they seemed to have already started things that weren’t given at Hogwarts until third year. And … "What about Astronomy?"
"That’s offered as an elective. Wednesday will have to take it eventually in order to complete her Astrology unit, but there’s time for that."
The talk was interrupted by the entry of three children, accompanied by Lurch, who merely delivered them and then left again. "Children, this is Professor McGonagall, who has come from Scotland to talk to us."
"Good morning, Professor McGonagall," they chorused.
Minerva looked at all three children, but most intently at Harry. He was tall and slim, and looked very much like his father, although his eyes were green and almond shaped, like Lily’s, behind the stylish silver frames of his glasses. However, his face was schooled to be still and inexpressive, the green eyes watchful and wary. Well. She cleared her throat and began. "As you may know, Harry, your parents attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am the Deputy Headmistress and Professor Transfiguration. It is my great pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted to study at Hogwarts, which is a very great honour. It’s the premiere school in all of Europe." She reached into her Muggle-style handbag and pulled out a yellowish parchment envelope, which was addressed with green ink and had a green wax seal on the back. She held it out to Harry.
He didn’t take it.
"If you would pardon me, Professor," said Remus.
He rose and ran his wand across the letter, which glowed green for a moment. He nodded to Mrs Addams, and she murmured softly to Harry, "Go ahead and take it, Harry. It’s safe."
"How could it not be safe?" Minerva huffed.
"There was a case of a child kidnapped by Portkey last year," said Mrs Addams. "The children have been instructed not to accept anything from any magical person they don’t know. Remus is teaching them how to do the spell to check things for themselves, but they haven’t mastered it yet."
"Very wise," said Minerva. "I can assure you there’s nothing wrong with this letter."
Harry took it, rather tentatively, from her hand. "Thank you very much," he said, then looked to his mother. She nodded slightly, and he flipped it over and broke the green seal. The other two children crowded around him to look as he pulled the letter out of its envelope.
"Go ahead and read it, Harry. I’d like to hear what it says," said Mrs. Addams.
In a confident voice, Harry read out loud: "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore. (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)."
"My, such a busy man. I’m surprised he has enough time to breathe, much less run a school," said Mrs Addams admiringly. "He did seem to be quite stressed when he was here before. I do hope he’s relaxed some."
"He was here before?"
"Oh, yes, on several occasions. He tried to have our custody of Harry revoked. He was quite put out about it when it didn’t work. Finish reading the letter, Harry."
"Dear Mr. Potter,
"We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
"Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
"Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress."
"That’s all?" asked Mrs Addams as Harry handed the letter to her. "That’s rather abrupt. The letter from Salem went on for several pages. Of course, they were competing with several other schools at the time, and had to sell themselves."
"Yes, well, there’s only the one school in Britain. It’s quite a prestigious thing to have your child accepted there. This is the letter we normally send to families of children who already know about the magical world. The Muggle-born, of course, usually get a more extensive explanation and a personal visit from a Professor. We’re happy to say that virtually all of the students we write to attend Hogwarts and do very well."
"Of course, if it’s the only game in town. What happens to all of the other children, Professor?"
"Well, most of them are taught by their parents, or are schooled through a traditional apprenticeship program."
"And there are no other formal schools?"
"Well, there are a few day schools. Honeychurch. Callanish. Silbury. But they’re much smaller and have neither the faculty nor the facilities that Hogwarts offers. The only schools on the level of Hogwarts are Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, but of course those require knowledge of different languages."
"The children are already more than competent in French and German, and familiar with Russian," said Mrs Addams. "I imagine an immersion program would improve their knowledge tremendously. I shall have to look into these other schools," she concluded thoughtfully.
Minerva was quite nervous now. Not only was she having to justify pulling three children out of a school at which they were apparently doing quite well, but she was suddenly facing competition from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang as well. "Well, they have their points, I suppose," she said. "Beauxbatons turns out socially polished students, but they have a reputation of being lightweights academically. And Durmstrang — well, Remus can tell you about Durmstrang. Many of its alumni are, quite frankly, worrisomely Dark."
"I see," said Mrs Addams. "We have no difficulty with Harry attending Hogwarts. In theory. The question is, what does he think about it? Harry?"
"Well, it sounds interesting, from what Remus has told us. But it’s awfully far away. What about Wednesday and Pugsley?"
"There’s no reason they couldn’t continue at Salem," said McGonagall. "You see, your attendance at Hogwarts has already been paid for by your parents, and …"
"Money is not an issue," murmured Mrs Addams, at the same moment as Harry snapped out, "Then I’m not going."
"What?"
"If Wednesday and Pugsley aren’t going, I’m not going."
"But they’re not on the attendance list … there’s no evaluation of them …"
"Wouldn’t their successful completion of a year at Salem count as an evaluation? Or Remus’s documentation?"
"I suppose … but I don’t have the authority …"
"Who does? Headmaster Dumbledore?"
"Of course he would, but …"
"Then I would advise you, Professor McGonagall, to ask Headmaster Dumbledore if he would care to meet with us to discuss Harry’s attendance. You may take it as a given that if Wednesday and Pugsley do not attend, then Harry will not attend either. There are other contingencies we should talk about, as well."
"Other …" said Minerva, faintly.
"Well, of course," said Mrs Addams. "The choice of a school means so much to a child’s entire life. We can’t make a decision based on this," she said, holding up the letter. "Now, I’ll assume you will wish to speak to Remus about the children’s evaluation before you return to Scotland. Remus, you may wish to give the Professor a tour of the house and grounds as well. You are, of course, invited to stay for luncheon."
"I … thank you for your hospitality," said Minerva. As Remus escorted her away, she wondered what had just happened and how everything had turned upside down so rapidly.
0o0o0o0o0
Harry watched his tutor take the flustered older witch off for her tour.
"Aunt Morticia, I thought we had agreed I would be going to Hogwarts after all."
"Of course, dear. But they don’t know that. And as long as they’re not sure of it, they’ll give us almost anything we want to entice you to go. Once you’re there, we’ll have less influence, since there will probably be a contract which won’t allow us to pull you out."
"That’s beautiful," said Harry admiringly.
"Watch and learn, Harry. Watch and learn."
0o0o0o0o0
After an enlightening morning reviewing Remus’s class records and a delightful luncheon at which she had no idea what she was eating, Minerva Portkeyed directly from the Addams house to her office at Hogwarts. Albus and the rest of the reduced summer staff would be at dinner in the staff room off the Great Hall now. The portraits in the corridors were treated to a sight they had never seen before, as the reserved, prim and proper Deputy Headmistress picked up her skirts and ran through the hall as if a Grim was after her.
0o0o0o0o0
"Now see here, madam. You can’t simply expect me to turn my entire institution head over tail just for one student! There are traditions to be maintained …"
"I assure you, Headmaster, we have no interest in upsetting your traditions. But I’m not going to be sending my two children, and one that I love as my own, into a strange country without a few assurances that there will be contact with their family and support from those they trust. If you’re not even willing to discuss the matter, then I shall contact Salem and confirm their class schedules for next year."
"Very well, let’s see this list," said Dumbledore, irritably. He mumbled out loud as he ran his finger down the list.
"Wednesday and Pugsley Addams to enter classes along with Harry Potter … how old are they, then?"
"Pugsley will turn twelve in September; Harry’s birthday is next week and Wednesday’s two weeks after that."
"They’ll all be in the same class, then. That will be a handful, but we can cope … Wednesday and Pugsley Addams not to be asked to leave school except for academic cause, subject to review of class records by neutral party, Harry Potter to be allowed to be withdrawn from school if Wednesday and Pugsley Addams are not in attendance … Do you honestly think your children would be failed out just to separate them from Harry?"
"Yes."
"Well, they wouldn’t."
"If you say so. You should know, Headmaster, that all three children, as well as myself, have been trained in the art of Occlumency so as to resist Memory Charms and other … tampering. Since certain individuals have already demonstrated their facility with those spells. There will be no possibility of failure due to outside tampering."
Dumbledore gave her a dirty look over the top edge of the paper. "Continuing … Regular parent conferences … open house night … Parent Teacher Association? … what is all this?"
"Surely the parents of your students would be interested in seeing what their children are learning, talk to their teachers, and have a input into their programs? The Parent Teacher Association is an excellent way of raising funds in addition to tuition and whatever your Ministry provides as a subsidy — if your Ministry is like our Department of Magical Education, I’m sure there’s never enough funding for things the children really need. The parents can also help supervise children on field trips and outings, taking some of the stress off your teachers."
Grumbling at the idea of any more parental involvement at the school than there already was, Dumbledore continued perusing the list. "Immediate notification of parents and/or guardians in the case of emergencies involving any of the three children, or any incident involving medical care, permission to visit the school when children are in the infirmary … I don’t see a problem with that, as long as the school mediwitch is allowed to initiate necessary treatment prior to your arrival."
"Of course. If immediate treatment is necessary, it should be provided. But we would like to be notified as soon as possible after that."
"Fine, then, let Poppy throw you out of the Medical Wing … Consultation with parents before special training or tutoring … What is this? Change of personnel? New History of Magic teacher?"
"Remus Lupin has told us all about the deficiencies of your current Professor — Binns, I believe his name is? Professor McGonagall confirmed much of it when she was here yesterday. Professor Binns may have been a specialist in non-human relations — although he seems to have a fixation on Goblin Wars for some reason — but since he died in the 1930’s, he has neither learned nor taught anything about current events, particularly the last two Dark Lords you’ve had to deal with. I’m sure you know, Headmaster, that those who do not learn from history tend to repeat it — and if they do not learn history at all, how can they learn from it? Mr Lupin is an excellent teacher; the children like and trust him, and I must confess my mind would rest easier knowing that he is there. If it’s a matter of salary, my husband and I would be more than happy to donate —"
"I assure you, madam, that I am capable of paying the salaries of my own staff!" This was one recommendation that Dumbledore didn’t mind going along with. Binns’s performance over the past few years had been going steadily down hill, to the point where the only students passing their O.W.L.s in History of Magic were Ravenclaws who ignored the ghostly Professor and organised their own study groups. He was sure he could depend on Remus to keep an eye on the children and provide him inside information — he had admitted Remus to school and bent the rules — and the law — to ensure that the boy could stay in school. Remus owed him, and he would make sure Remus wouldn’t forget it.
"Of course you are, Headmaster. Forgive me."
0o0o0o0o0
The Headmaster left late that evening in a terrible snit, but the contract had been signed. Most of what Morticia and Gomez had wanted had been won through negotiations; the few points on which they had given up weren’t worth much to them.
Morticia filed their copy of the contract away in Gomez’s office, while Remus relaxed in one of the green leather wing chairs. "So, you think it worked?"
"I believe so. Between one thing and another, your Headmaster was so off balance that he didn’t even ask why I was signing on behalf of Gomez."
"Didn’t matter. You’re the one with legal custody of Harry, and the other two are only useful to the Headmaster as long as they keep Harry happy."
"Still, I’m glad to have avoided the question. Gomez should be back from London tomorrow, and I’m sure his business with the Goblins was successful. All we have to do now is pack. This house you found is suitable?"
"Very. The estate agent specialises in the larger, harder to let properties. She said this one has been empty for years. Prior tenants thought it was haunted. The current owner is an absentee landlord, and doesn’t care whether it’s haunted or not. There’s a caretaker for the grounds, and Thing and Lurch can handle the interior. It’s pretty much furnished. Place even comes with its own graveyard. It’ll be just like home."
"Nothing will be just like home," she said. "But it will do. For good or ill, the children of Charles Adams are returning to England."
__________
A/N: The stage is set, the players all arranged. Next chapter, Harry, Wednesday and Pugsley take centre stage as we journey to Hogwarts (and then I can stop using British spellings for things in America, which feels pretty damn silly!).