Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

▬ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ▬

SHE WAS HAVING tea with Death when the owl showed up. It was a small thing, barely larger than her fist, and it carried a letter that was much larger than itself. 

Death looked amused by its appearance but said nothing. 

"Do you know who it's from?" Malefic asked the entity, reaching forward to take the envelope from the owl's beak.

"I do." She gave him a look. "Oh, don't look at me like that, Mistress. Fate has forbidden me from saying anything more."

Malefic said nothing. For all the power she had over Death, there was little she could do if Fate forbade him from doing something. Not yet at least, she still had to grow into her power after all. 

As she examined the letter, she reached out to caress the little owl that had been waiting patiently on the table. It preened under her gentle touch for a moment then stiffened.

It started with the feathers that burnt away as if by acid. Ash fell from the bird's body and left behind bare skin. The skin didn't last long however and started to drip from the owl like candle wax. The organs, exposed and unprotected, fell bit by bit onto the table. Each organ made a grotesque 'plop' noise as they fell, not unlike meat being dropped into water. Blood now stained the wooden table and a distinct iron smell had filled the room. Malefic inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell. She grinned sharply at her creation, all that remained of the owl was a skeleton. Its eyeless form stared at her accusingly. 

"Oh, don't be like that," she cooed. "You know that you prefer this."

Death watched on in amusement as his mistress mutilated the bird, she was growing into her power rather quickly and he could not be more delighted. 

If the owl could blink Malefic was certain it would, the undead creature let out a little hoot instead. Malefic's lips curled up further. "Would I be as daring as to assume that you'll be staying with me, little corpse?" She asked. Another hoot. "Magnificent, do you like the name Goetic?"

The bird flew and rested on her shoulder. "It is a pleasure to meet you then, Goetic," she murmured, caressing the boney face of the bird absentmindedly as she opened the letter. Two thick pieces of parchment were inside. She took out the first, it read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Addams,

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 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall 

Deputy Headmistress

Malefic's eyes narrowed and she looked to Death who had been watching her silently. "You can tell me nothing of this?" She asked, slipping the parchment back into the envelope.

"Unfortunately not, Mistress."

Malefic nodded in understanding, ignoring the stab of irritation that she felt, and looked at Goetic. "We must go and see Mother, do hold on."

She tapped her foot twice and the floor fell away. Goetic managed to let out a single alarmed squawk before they fell into the tunnel that had appeared in the earth. Death's "Goodbye, Mistress" followed them down the tunnel.

Just as quickly as the floor disappeared, it opened, spouting out both girl and owl. The owl in question bit at the girl's ear in discontent. Malefic showed no notice of this. Instead she looked to the pale woman who was attending to the roses. 

"Mother," Malefic called. Morticia Addams looked up at her daughter and gave her an adoring smile. 

"Malefic, I didn't see you there. Well done." Malefic nodded at the praise, proud to have escaped her mother's notice. “It’s good that you’re here, dear, your acceptance letter from Ilvermorny has arrived. Grandmama is ready to skin someone in her excitement.”

Malefic stared at her mother. “My acceptance letter from… Ilvermorny?” She repeated slowly.

“Yes, dear. We’ve been expecting it, as you recall, it’s arrived.” Morticia paused in her work of cutting the roses from their stems to look at her daughter. “Who is that on your shoulder, Malefic?”

"This is Goetic," Malefic told her mother. "He came to deliver a message."

"A message?" Morticia asked curiously, setting down her shears. "From whom?" 

Malefic handed her mother the envelope. 

Miss M. Addams

Behind the Oil Painting on the Second Floor

Addams Family Mansion

0001 Cemetery Lane

"So that's where you've hidden your room," Morticia murmured as she removed the parchment inside. 

"Rest assured, I'll be changing it tonight," Malefic promised. She watched as her mother’s eyes trail over the words written in green ink. 

Morticia frowned as she finished reading, lowering the parchment to look at her daughter. "Malefic, did you apply to Hogwarts?" she asked.

"Hogwarts? Did you say Hogwarts?" Grandmama exclaimed, climbing out of the cupboard. "Give me that!" She demanded snatching the letter from Morticia. 

Grandmama's eyes darted from left to right as she frantically read over the letter. Being used to such antics, Malefic was not surprised when Grandmama threw the letter away with a delighted shout. 

She threw her body at Malefic and crushed the girl in her arms. "Fate has blessed us! I always knew there was potential in you, Macy."

"Malefic," she corrected absentmindedly, staring at her mother who looked thoughtful over Grandmama’s shoulder. 

"Yes, so magnificent!" Grandmama agreed. She released Malefic and held her shoulders as she looked over her adoringly. “Oh, Hogwarts! Who would have thought?” She suddenly looked at Morticia accusingly. “Did you see this in your crystal ball and not tell me?”

Morticia gave the woman an appraising look, telling Grandmama that she hadn’t, in a single look. She turned her attention back to Malefic. “Did you apply to Hogwarts, Malefic?”

“No Mother, I didn’t. I was under the impression that our family has been barred from Britain.” 

“We were.” Morticia gave Grandmama a pointed look as if to say that the witch was the reason for this, which she was. “Which means you shouldn’t have received this letter.”

“No take-backs!” Grandmama screeched, wrapping herself around Malefic. “They’ve accepted her and they can’t take it back!” She gripped Malefic’s cheeks between her fingers and brought the girl’s face very close to her own. “You listen to me, Matilda. You are our chance to return the greatness of the Addams family to the British Isles. You have to go to Hogwarts! Fate has decreed it.”

“Fate has also granted her acceptance to Ilvermorny, Grandmama. It is Malefic’s choice which school she wishes to attend.”

Malefic eyed the letter that lay on the floor, ignoring Grandmama’s indignant shout. “I believe Fate wishes for me to attend Hogwarts, Mother. Lady Magic removed us from the British Isles for a reason, for her to allow our return, Fate must have some hand in it.”

“What has Death said of this?” Morticia asked.

Malefic felt a rush of irritation fill her, as she answered she watched as a butterfly flew from one of the roses to briefly land on her shoulder before flying away. “Nothing. Fate has told him he may not say anything to me about the letter and what it contains.”

Morticia’s eyes went wide for a moment before her expression went blank. “That is certainly odd.” Malefic nodded in agreement, not voicing the true irritation she felt at the situation. Morticia looked contemplative for a moment. “Go write a letter to Headmistress McGonnagall to confirm your placement, send it with Goetic. We will go to the Community tomorrow to shop. I will let Ilvermorny know that you will not be attending.”

Grandmama sounded like a banshee as she cheered. “You chose well, Marley.”

It was funny, Malefic didn’t feel like she had much of a choice in this. Though, she thought, it will be entertaining to reign terror on the English, it was family tradition after all.

⋘═══ ∘◦☾◦∘ ═══⋙

THE STUDY WAS quiet. The only sound being the scratch of Malefic's pen as she wrote her response to Hogwarts. 

THE MOST ANCIENT and NOBLE HOUSE of ADDAMS

Lord: Gomez Addam

(Fencing Champion, Accomplished Knife Thrower and Juggler, Husband of Morticia Addams)

Dear Deputy Headmistress McGonagall,

I humbly thank you for the invitation to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This is my official acceptance letter for my placement at the school.  

Yours sincerely,

M. Addams

Heiress of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Addams

"Hogwarts, Malefic? Truly?" 

Malefic put down her pen and turned to look at her sister who had hovered silently over her shoulder. 

"Yes, I received the letter this morning. I've decided to attend."

"The Addams bloodline is forbidden to step foot on the British Isles," Wednesday pointed out, raising an eyebrow. 

"My acceptance makes that declaration null and void. I am within my rights as an untrained borne witch to attend any magical training institute that has granted me entrance, regardless of my bloodline."

Wednesday's eyes darted across her sister's face, trailing over the lightning tendrils that crawled out of her hairline over her eyelid and above her mouth. "And your rights as an untrained necromancer? You know they do not allow such study in Britain."

Malefic glared at her sister. "I am not an untrained necromancer. And I do not care what Britain allows, Death will continue teaching me."

"If you're caught practising death magic you will get arrested."

Malefic let out an incredulous laugh. "You're really bothered with the law, Wednesday? You spent the last two weeks in a juvenile detention centre."

Wednesday gave her a flat stare. "Malefic, do you, a necromancer, truly wish to attend a school in a country that forbids necromancy?"

Malefic stood, slipping her letter into an envelope and handing it to Goetic. The bird shook the bony skeleton of his wings as if to ready the feathers he no longer had before taking off and disappearing out of the open window in the study. Malefic watched him go silently. 

"Yes, I do,” she responded, glaring at her sister. “Get your robes ready. We're visiting the Community tomorrow," she added over her shoulder as she left.

⋘═══ ∘◦☾◦∘ ═══⋙

MALEFIC WALKED DOWN the corridor, her footsteps silent. Anyone who saw her would think that she was deep in thought as she had a pensive look on her face. They’d be right of course, Malefic was thinking quite deeply about the most effective way to skin a human’s foot. She had just assessed the merits of using a spoon when she heard a quiet shuffle.

She paused. “Pugsley, come down here!” Malefic instructed, looking up at the support beams.

Silence, then…

THUMP!

Pugsley lay sprawled on the floor in front of his sister. He held a large ‘STOP’ sign in her hand. He scrambled to his feet, his bloodshot eyes staring at her eagerly. “Yes, Malefic?”

“Do your robes still fit you?” She asked, ignoring the suspicious amount of soot that covered his face. “You’ve been growing a lot recently and you’ll be needing them.”

“They would’ve fit me if they weren’t all ripped up,” Pugsley told her enthusiastically. “You really think I’ve been growing?”

Malefic ignored the question. “Why are they ripped up?” She narrowed her eyes. “Did someone destroy them? Was it those boys that Wednesday set on fire? Because if they—”

"No! It wasn’t anyone else. I used the robes as a noose for Lurch!" 

Malefic clicked her tongue. "Idiot, don’t you know that the best way to slaughter your enemies is by letting them slowly bleed-" 

"Yes, Malefic, I do know. You’ve only lectured me on this a million times,” Pugsley groaned. “But you said to kill my mortal enemies like that and Lurch is not my mortal enemy!”

“Of course he isn’t, you’re much too young to have a mortal enemy.”

Pugsley glared at her. “We’re the same age!”

“In body perhaps, but mentally? I’d put you on the same level as a second grader.”

Pugsley lunged at Malefic with a dagger that he had pulled from his pocket. She dodged easily and flipped the boy over her shoulder, placing her knee on his chest as he sputtered incoherently. “Second grader,” she reiterated. 

Pugsley narrowed his eyes and spat at her. She calmly wiped the saliva from her cheek and grinned at him toothily, looking more like a wolf than a witch.

Pugsley groaned and slumped down, looking at his sister tiredly. “Why do I need robes?” he asked as if he knew he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“We’re going to the Community tomorrow to go shopping for my school supplies. It would not do for you to look like you’ve crawled out of a sewer,” Malefic told him as she lifted her knee from his chest.

“Well, I don’t have robes. They’re in shreds like I told you. And just as well, I’m not a wizard so I don’t need robes.” Malefic raised her eyebrow at the undertone of bitterness in her brother’s tone but decided not to address it. Instead she focused on his words. 

“You are a representative of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Addams. Wizard or not, when we’re visiting the Community, you must dress the part.”

Pugsley narrowed his eyes before huffing. “Fine. Grandmama's threatened to cook me into soup enough for me to know this is important. What do you want me to do about my robes?”

“I'll create new robes for you. Go to your room, I'll meet you there.”

Pugsley grumbled something incoherent as he finally stood up. Then he shuffled away, presumably to his room dragging his 'STOP' sign behind him. 

Malefic watched him then made her way to the second floor. She tapped the oil painting of Great Cousin Goody twice in the right corner and it opened up like a doorway allowing her entrance into her room.

As the painting snapped shut behind her her hands traced the wooden wall. “We'll have to change rooms again,” she told the wall, “Mother was informed of my sleeping quarters.”

She felt a thrum beneath her fingers and moments later her room shifted. Her possessions, though all present, had shuffled around to fit and arrange themselves appropriately around the newly shaped room. “Where are we within the house?” she asked the walls that were now a deep red. 

The thrum in response made her smile. "Thank you," she murmured. Malefic lifted her fingertips gently from the wall and moved to the large oak desk that had been placed in the left corner of the room in front of the window. 

Carefully, she opened the second drawer then pricked her finger on the needle that stood erect as if waiting for her. A drop of blood fell from her fingertip onto the dark wood. A brief flash of red appeared, then disappeared to reveal the new bottom of the drawer that was much deeper than it appeared from the outside. 

A bone white wand lay on a black satin pillow. The Elder Wand. Her birthright as the Mistress of Death. 

The wand was the only thing in the drawer. The reminder brought a scowl to her face. Two items were missing, two items that belonged to her. 

"You will get them soon enough, Mistress." She recalled Death saying. "Then your training can truly start."

Then Death would be under her command only. Fate could not say anything of it if she gave him a command. Fate could not command him. 

Malefic felt giddy at the thought. Death would be hers and hers alone. 

She was smiling like a cat that caught a canary as she picked up the wand. The grin only widened as Death's familiar magic caressed over her. 

She looked down to the floor. “Pugsley's room, if you please.”

The Mansion groaned in agreement and, as it had done earlier that day, a hole appeared in the ground beneath Malefic's feet. She dropped down the hole and through the roof of Pugsley's bedroom. 

Malefic landed easily then straightened out her dress and looked at Pugsley — who had been putting his newest roadsign up on his wall alongside the thousands of others, not even glancing at his sister as she fell from the heavens. 

“Come here. I'm going to conjure up some robes for you.”

Pugsley sighed then hopped off the cupboard he had been standing on to reach the top of the wall.

“Stand up straight and don't move,” Malefic instructed sternly. 

Pugsley stood still as a statue as Malefic examined him up and down, prowling around him like a lion around its prey. 

“You'll have to remove the flamethrower from your persons,” she instructed. 

Pugsley let out a groan then pulled the flamethrower out from underneath his shirt, tossing it beside his bed. It went off for a brief moment, scorching the floor. 

“And the katana.”

He pulled the katana out of his pocket and tossed it beside the flamethrower. 

“The baseball bat too.”

 He glared at her then reached behind his neck and pulled it out of his shirt. 

She stopped her circling and stood directly before him. “I suppose the throwing knives can stay.”

Pugsley grinned toothily upon hearing that Malefic didn't even blink at the blood that stained his teeth. 

Malefic slipped the wand from the holster on her wrist into her hand. Pugsley stared at it with fascination. 

“You don't usually use a stick—” 

“A wand,” she corrected. 

“Right, a wand, to do your magic.”

“I don't,” Malefic agreed. “I think that wands hinder your magical potential but this is a permanent spell and my borne magic is not developed enough to create cloth wandlessly.”

Pugsley stared at her blankly. “But I've seen you do much harder things than create cloth! Lurch is alive because of you and he's way more advanced than cloth!”

Malefic stared back at her brother, wondering if torturing him slowly would allow him to develop a few brain cells. “I do wonder why Mother didn't feed you to the closet when you were born,” she commented. “As you would know if you actually ever paid attention to Grandmama's lessons, there is a difference in magic cores. A necromancer has magic, but that does not make them a borne witch although they sometimes have a little stray borne magic that allows them to perform simple spells. Just as being a borne witch does not make one a necromancer although they too can sometimes dabble with a little death magic.”

“And you're both a necromancer and a borne witch? That's possible?”

Malefic looked to the roof of the sky, praying to Death to grant her strength. “Pugsley, have we not been living in the same house for over ten years?” Pugsley nodded slowly. “And you've gone that entire time not realising that I am a necromancer and a borne witch?”

“Well how was I supposed to know?” He defended himself weakly. “I thought you were just a witch, like Grandmama.”

“Pugsley, the literal embodiment of Death visits me for tea every morning, and you're telling me you never thought me anything but a borne witch?”

“Well I didn't know what it was called…”

Malefic shook her head in disbelief, huffing in irritation as a stray lock of hair fell out into her face. “An idiot, that's what you are. It's a wonder you haven't managed to stab your eye out with a spoon. I'll go over this once, because I'm feeling nice.

“I am a necromancer, a very powerful necromancer because I am the Mistress of Death. A necromancer has death magic, meaning, in a very basic description, they can bring things back from the dead. I am also a borne witch, like Grandmama, which means I can also perform spells. Had I just been a necromancer I would have been able to perform very basic spells. Similarly, had I just been a borne witch I would be able to perform very weak death magic such as raising an Inferius. 

“Necromancers and borne witches aren't the only branches of magic cores, of course. Mother is a psychic, or what is also known as a seer. This means she can read the future, or at least possible futures, through visions and prophecies and things. There are various creature magics as well, such as goblin magic that, though slightly similar, works differently from borne magic and centaur magic that is also similar to psychic magic but is usually a lot stronger and much more accurate. There are many more but the book Grandmama taught us from was over 500 pages long and will not be wasting my time explaining it to you. All you need to know is that there are more and most categories of magic cores have subcategories. It is possible for cores to overlap, like mine, but it isn't very common. Any questions?”

“Yeah… I don't have a magic core but I can make potions. Wednesday too. Aren't potions magic?”

Malefic stared at her brother in surprise, she hadn't expected him to ask such a good question. She was pleased however, it seemed that for once he had actually listened to a lesson about magic.

“The Addams bloodline is descended from borne witches and wizards. By all rights you should have borne magic. However, our bloodline was cursed. Somewhere along the Gibbous Addams angered a sorceress — rumours point to Pasiphaë herself — and the sorceress cursed the Addams family bloodline so that it would be nearly impossible a borne witch would be born into the family. Any Addams descendant does come from borne magic however and thus are classified as squibs. Meaning they carry the gene for borne magic but do not have it themselves. Carrying this gene does give you just enough magic in your aura to make potions however, which is why you and Wednesday can make potions.”

“Gibbous Addams is the general that fought for the goblin nation in the Goblin Wars, wasn't he?” Pugsley looked excited upon remembering this.

Malefic blinked. “I… Don't know. Was he? Grandmama only teaches us about history relevant to our magic and our heirships. How do you know that?”

“Dad told me about him. He said that we're friends with the goblin nation because of Gibbous which is why our wealth prospers in the Community.”

Pugsley had never been one to surprise her but he seemed particularly shocked during this exchange. “You remember this but didn't know what borne magic was?”

“Well, I can handle the family's money, I don't have magic, which one sounds like it'd be more interesting to me?”

Malefic hummed, he had a point. She did hear the slight bitter tone in his voice again, she would be sure to look into that at a later stage. “Stand still," she instructed, spreading her legs and lifting her wand. 

Malefic concentrated on Pugsley's striped shirt and shorts, envisioning them as black robes. She felt a tug at her magic core and her power moved through her fingertips into the Elder Wand. She felt a shiver go down her spine as Death's familiar magic washed over her, she would never tire of feeling his magic. It reminded her that he was hers and by extension she, his. 

The clothes on her brother's person morphed as the light from her wand jumped to his body. The shirt and pants morphed and extended to his wrists and ankles, black tendrils crept over the fabric until all the cloth had been consumed by the colour. 

In seconds what had been casual clothes, had become elegant robes. 

Pugsley looked down as Malefic lowered her wand. 

“Hey, wait! That was my favourite shirt!” Her brother whined. 

Malefic gave him a deadpan stare. “You have six others just like it.”

Pugsley continued to pout. 

Malefic rolled her eyes, turning on her heel to leave when a large pipe with a flared bell lowered itself down from the ceiling. 

“Malefic, dear! Your father wants to speak to you!” Sounded her mother's voice from the bell.

“Since when do we have speakers?” Pugsley asked ogling the contraption stupidly. 

Malefic wondered the same thing; however, when a small square opening leading to a staircase appeared on the floor, the question was answered. The Mansion had made life easier for her, as it always did. 

“Thank you,” she murmured as she started down the stairs. 

The staircase led to the entrance hall where her father stood beside her mother, looking pleased (as always). As Malefic stepped off of the last step the staircase disappeared into the square opening that too disappeared after a moment. 

Malefic didn't pay attention to this, instead looking at her father who had spread his arms as if awaiting a hug. She ignored this invite for an embrace, she wasn't exactly a hugger. 

Gomez Addams wasn't deterred however, instead he began speaking enthusiasm dripping from his tone. "Ma Petite Cadavérique! Acceptance into Hogwarts? Why, we couldn't be more proud! You have given us the opportunity to return the House of Addams to its former glory. Now, tell you father, how did you manage it?"

Malefic’s mouth, which had quirked into a small smile as her father congratulated her, fell flat. “As I told Mother, I did not apply to Hogwarts and I suspect that if I had I would not have been accepted. We are - or, I suppose, had been - forbidden from entering Britain.”

Gomez didn’t frown but it was a near thing. It was certainly odd that his daughter had been accepted into Hogwarts, they didn’t live in the British Isles nor had an Addams stepped foot there since his mother. “Oh, what does it matter? Who are we to question Fate?”

Morticia smiled tightly when Gomez looked to her for support. “Of course, it is not our place to question such a blessing,” she agreed. “Though,” she added, “perhaps we can stop at the bank tomorrow when we visit the Community. Malefic’s birth parents may be the answer.”

Malefic blinked, startled at the mention of the couple who had given her life. She knew very little of them, Death being very tight lipped on the matter and Fate telling her parents nothing when they brought her to the Addams household as a babe. She suspected one had red hair due to her own fiery locks and perhaps green eyes but that was as far as she could speculate. Or more, as far as she wanted to speculate. They weren’t her parents, they had not raised her. She was thankful for the magic they granted her and that was where her love for them stopped. Morticia and Gomez Addams were her parents. That was that.

Gomez too looked startled at the mention of the couple. It wasn’t forbidden to talk of their existence or Malefic’s adoptive status but it wasn’t mentioned often. For Morticia to mention it so casually was uncommon.

“Yes, we’ll stop at the bank tomorrow,” Gomez agreed. “I did want to show Pugsley our previous statements anyhow, so it works out.”

Morticia agreed. “Now, I believe that Grandmama has finished with lunch. It smells like Butcher tonight so we’re in for a treat.”

⋘═══ ∘◦☾◦∘ ═══⋙

“I'M WORRIED, Gomez. Something doesn't feel right about all this.”

Malefic stopped walking at the sound of her mother’s worried tone coming from the sitting room. She glanced around the hallway, she was alone. Quietly she crept to stand in the semi-open doorway of the dimly lit living room that contained her parents. She could only see the back of their heads as they sat in front of the lit fire.

“Oh, Cara Mia,” her father lifted his hand to, presumably, caress her mother’s face, “you worry too much.” 

Her mother shifted to look at her father directly, Malefic could now see half of her face. She looked anxious. 

“No, Bubele, you do not understand. It could not be Fate’s interference alone for Malefic to be added to that list. Nor does it have to do with her birth parents. Someone wants her at Hogwarts, someone powerful. Fate allowed this but did not orchestrate it, I can feel it.”

Morticia Addams was a physic, a woman blessed by Fate. If she had a feeling of something to be true, chances were that she was right.

“She will be fine, regardless, Cara Mia. Malefic is the Mistress of Death, there is no mortal more powerful than she. With Death at her side, no one can harm her.”

“That’s just the thing, Gomez, I don’t think Death will be at her side for this.”

Gomez was silent for a long time before he shifted to face his wife as she was facing him. He looked more serious than Malefic had ever seen him. “What do you mean, Cara Mia?”

“Something Malefic told me, Fate told Death he could tell nothing of the letter. I worry that those instructions will be given to him more than what is safe for Malefic.”

Malefic blinked, taken aback by her mother’s words. She had not thought of such a thing happening. It seemed absurd. Death not being there when she needed him? Death was hers. 

Her mother worried for naught, she was sure of it. Death would not leave her. Death could not leave her. She would be safe and he would protect her should she ever need it. It was as Gomez said, she was the Mistress of Death, nothing could hurt her.

In the darkness of the hallway a bright red butterfly landed on Malefic’s shoulder.

⋘═══ ∘◦☾◦∘ ═══⋙

Chapter Text

▬ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ▬

THE NON-MAGICAL ENTRANCE to Wartal Alley was one of the lesser known secrets of the Community. It was a dirty place, filled with homeless magical creatures and it had a stench that Malefic identified as death (she inhaled deeply, revelling in the smell). Grandmama led the family through the sketchy area and pulled out her wand to tap the brick wall that was spattered with substances that varied from semen to blood.

As the family sauntered into the wizarding alley Malefic was grabbed from behind.

A vampire that had clearly not been feeding hissed at her, his fangs bared. Malefic gave him an unimpressed stare and hissed right back, startling the creature. She wrenched her arm free and followed her family. 

Wednesday glanced back at her sister with a raised eyebrow, Malefic sent her a raised eyebrow of her own causing the older girl to roll her eyes and look forward once again.

"We'll be going to Gringotts first," Morticia explained.

"Oh, we'll be seeing the goblins!" Gomez exclaimed in delight. 

Goblins were truly vile creatures. Their love for riches could rival Hades and their thirst for blood would make even the Ares turn away. The Addams family loved them. 

And, while Malefic couldn't be truly certain, she was almost sure that the goblins loved them in turn.

The Addams family had a lot of ties to many different bloodlines and by default that made them wealthy. And, even with her father not being allowed to access the Addams' magical vaults, he continued to bring in money. Gomez Addams visited the goblins often, always looking to invest in something or another. 

All profits, of course, would go to the Addams' magical vault for the next Addams with borne magic to access. It was of no concern to Gomez that he could not access the money himself without borne magic. He only cared that somewhere along the line someone in the family would benefit from it.

The goblins made money when their clients made money and the Addams' made them a lot of money. 

“—and then Gibbous slit his throat, bathing in the blood of the tyrant, officially marking the end of the 13th goblin war. His fierce spirit and brutal skill with the sword named him, and all the Addams' that followed, Goblin Friend.”

Malefic listened idly as her father told the story that she had heard in part the previous day from Pugsley. 

If she were being honest, from what she had heard of the story, she was certain that the goblins saw Gibbous in her father. The heart of a warrior and bloodlust of a vampire. With, of course, the added bonus that Gomez did not have borne magic, because despite their love for the family goblins weren't particularly... fond of borne magic holders.

Which is why, she was sure, their accounts manager, Blutcrest, gave her a minute glare when Morticia informed him that she wished for Malefic to do a blood inheritance test. 

“Lady Addams, we know of Miss Addams' heritage and magic cores. An inheritance test is purely a waste of time.”

“Malefic will be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland. Her acceptance is… odd, seeing as we do not live in the area. We were hoping to find out more about her birth parents.”

Blutcrest's eyes widened for a fraction of a second then he frowned. “Lady Addams, I was under the impression that you two are her birth parents.”

“Sir Blutcrest!” Gomez cried. “Have you truly forgotten that our dear Malefic entered our family through means of blood adoption!”

Blutcrest gave Gomez a dry look. “Need I remind you, Lord Addams, that I have only become your accounts manager 13 moons ago.”

“Oh, how could I forget such a glorious battle! Your proficiency with the blade certainly paid the scoundrel the justice he deserved!” Gomez remembered.

The battle certainly was something glorious and it was most beneficial to the Addams'. Their previous accounts manager, Štakorblade, had been caught stealing the riches from the Addams vaults. Blutcrest was the goblin to find out about the crime and was rightfully outraged. He challenged Štakorblade to an Honor Duel — inviting the family that had been stolen from to watch — and slaughtered the previous accounts manager. 

By right of conquest Blutcrest became their new manager. And, in the year he had been in the position no one had any complaints about this development.

“Yes,” Blutcrest agreed (for goblins never saw the need for modesty). “Well, this certainly explains why she has borne magic despite the curse.” He glared at Malefic as if this were a crime. “I will be escorting Miss Addams to the inheritance hall, do make yourselves comfortable.” The goblin left the room, Malefic followed wordlessly, understanding the unsaid instructions. 

The inheritance hall was not so much a hall but more a larger than average room. It had white marble walls with a sky light — Malefic wasn't sure if it was truly the sky or if it was a magical illusion — and a large mahogany table in the middle of the room that a female goblin sat at.

The female goblin looked at them sharply when they entered. “Miss Addams this is Crannquill, she is what is known as a bloodkeeper among goblins,” Blutcrest told her. 

Malefic barely refrained from asking if a bloodkeeper was a subcategory of goblin magic. Instead, she bowed her head and placed her fist on her chest. “An honour to meet you, Bloodkeeper Crannquill.”

Crannquill copied Malefic's movements and said, “The honour is mine, Miss Addams. Come closer, so that we may begin.”

Malefic moved to stand directly before the table, looking down at the parchment that had a golden tint of magic to it and a sacrificial dagger. “Seven drops of blood onto the paper should suffice.” Malefic took the dagger and unflinchingly sliced her palm. She squeezed her hand until seven drops fell upon the parchment, then pulled her bloody hand away. 

She reached into her robe's left pocket, pulling out a handkerchief to clean the dagger and her hand with. It was never a good idea to leave your blood on a weapon that was not your own.

As she put away the red stained piece of fabric, she glanced at the now printed piece of parchment.

Inheritance Test of M. Malefic Potter-Addams 

(As verified by Magic and Death)

Date of Birth:

July 31, 2005

Birth Parents:

Lily J. Potter née Evans (Dead)

James F. Potter (Dead)

Blood Parents:

Morticia A. Addams née Frump

Gomez F. Addams  

Magical Guardian/s:

(Former) Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore 

Eudora E. Addams

Magic Core:

Death

Borne

Horcrux

Heiress To:

Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter

Ancient and Most Noble House of Addams

Ancient and Most Noble House of Peverell

Ancient and Most Noble House of Slytherin 

Ancient and Most Noble House of Black 

Other Title/s:

Girl-Who-Lived

Mistress of Death 

Malefic stared at the parchment with large eyes, unable to withhold her surprise. “I'm… Maya Potter?”

The goblins both looked at her sharply. “Miss Addams, may I see your test?” Bloodkeeper Crannquill asked. 

“Yes, of course. And, could you perhaps tell me what type of Horcrux is? I've never heard of such a core.”

“That's because it isn't a core, Miss Addams. A Horcrux is a soul container, typically placed in an object of sentimental value,” Crannquill muttered as she looked over Malefic's test. Her small black eyes lingered on the word. “Though, I suppose with magic nothing is ever typical.” She lowered the parchment. “It seems you're the first ever living Horcrux, Heiress Addams. Which would, in most cases, be the most shocking on this parchment. But it seems that you aren't one to follow most cases.”

Crannquill looked to Blutcrest. “Contact the English branch, ask for the Potter accounts manager.”

Blutcrest bowed his head in agreement then scuttled out of the room. Crannquill looked back to Malefic. 

“It would be in your best interest to follow me to see a Lifebearer goblin, Heiress Addams. A Horcrux is a rather foul bit of magic and for it to be attached to your cores, well… I struggle to imagine that it isn't inadvertently causing you harm.”

Malefic nodded, following the Bloodkeeper out of the inheritance hall. The hallways they walked down were unfamiliar to Malefic. They were, she suspected, further into the bank than most wixen had ever gone. 

As they got to a door engraved in gold, Malefic realised that had her family not been friends of the goblins, she would probably not be given the privilege of visiting the Lifebearer. 

Crannquill opened the door, gaining the attention of the goblin inside the room. It was clean and much like a standard hospital room. 

“Bloodkeeper Crannquill,” the Lifebearer greeted. His eyes darted to Malefic. “And witch. Why are you here?”

Crannquill nodded to Malefic, indicating that she should explain the situation at hand. Similarly to how she had greeted Crannquill, Malefic bowed her head and placed her fist on her chest. “An honour to meet you, Lifebearer…?” She trailed off, awaiting a name.

“Retina,” the goblin answered the unasked question. He returned the greeting with a nod. “And you as well, Heiress…”

Malefic hesitated to answer. Potter or Addams? 

It seemed a significant decision, as if she were choosing which was her. 

“Addams, Heiress Malefic Addams.” Retina eyed her as if questioning her answer but said nothing. Instead he waited for her to explain her presence. “I have a Horcrux attached to my core.”

Whatever Retina was expecting it clearly wasn’t that. The goblin recoiled as if struck and stared at Malefic as if she had grown two heads. Malefic had never seen a goblin react so emotionally, it felt wrong somehow - as if she were seeing Cousin It’s face beneath all his hair.

He looked at Crannquill, speaking to her in a language that Malefic was unfamiliar with. She watched as Crannquill responded with a shake of her head. The female goblin said something, gesturing to Malefic and then to the parchment clutched in her hand. Retina shook his head then looked at Malefic. 

“May I see your inheritance test?” He asked, holding his hand out.

Wordlessly, Malefic gave him the test. His eyes scanned over it critically, as if looking for a mistake. Malefic could tell when he got to what he was searching for, because his eye ridge furrowed then his eyes bounced up as if to reread the words. He reread it five times before looking to Crannquill again to say something.

Crannquill nodded at his words, whatever they were - the language didn’t seem to change tone so Malefic couldn’t even discern what was being said from that - then said something short in response. She turned to Malefic abruptly. 

“I will leave you in Lifebearer Retina’s hands. Should you survive his attention, allow him to lead you to Sir Blutcrest’s office. I am sure the Potter accounts manager will be there and will wish to speak to you. I will ensure that your parents are there as well. Blessed be, Heiress Addams.”

Malefic barely had time to murmur out her own “blessed be” before Crannquill was out the door, leaving the witch with the remaining goblin.

Retina looked at her as if she were a science experiment, one that he wasn’t sure wouldn’t go off. “Please lie down on the cot, Heiress Addams. I’ll be taking a look at your core.”

Malefic lay down as instructed. The bed reminded her of the autopsy table Wednesday used to strap her down on when they were younger and they'd play "Escape Before I Cut You Open With A Scalpel" — Malefic only lost once and Wednesday always looked smug when she saw the large scar on Malefic's collarbone.

Retina did not use a wand. Goblins didn't have them due to a wixen law that was brought in just before the first goblin war. The goblins fought to be able to use the instrument to guide their magic as wixen do. They lost but, unlike what many wixen thought, that didn't mean they couldn't perform magic. As shown by Retina. 

The goblin waved his hand over her chest, murmuring words in the language that Malefic did not know, then there were two strings of light. 

They wrapped around one another. A strand of white that was too bright to look at directly for too long and a strand of black that seemed to get lost in its own darkness. Yin and Yang. Opposites that seemed to compliment each other perfectly. This was Malefic's core. Her magic. Her very being. 

“Your death magic is much further developed than your borne magic,” Retina commented, his hand reaching out to touch the image. When his fingertips made contact with the light Malefic felt a shudder run through her body. Retina touching the light felt odd, like he was holding her beating heart in his hands. 

“Yes, I've been training it much more than my borne magic,” she responded. 

Retina nodded idly, he lightly started pulling at the white strand. “I can't seem to see the — ah, there it is.” He then unwound the strands partially and Malefic saw a thin line of dark green idmist the light and dark. 

Retina prodded at the ribbon of green light. It flashed a bright lime colour at his touch, Malefic felt a pain shoot through her chest. Had Retina had the right lips Malefic was sure he'd be pursing them. 

“It has bonded completely with your core. To try to remove it would remove part of your borne and death magic as well.”

He rewound the ribbons of white and black and the green light was hidden from view once more. “Well, can't you just remove those parts then? I can train my magic to regain what had to be taken out.”

“Heiress Addams, do you understand what a Horcrux is?”

“Today is the first I've heard of them,” Malefic confessed. 

Retina was quiet for a long moment as if to look for the right words. “To understand a Horcrux you must understand a magic core. Your core is more than just a place you store your magic. For one with magic of any kind your core too is your soul. To damage your core is to damage your soul. 

“A Horcrux is a piece of one's core, one's soul. To create one is to partially destroy yourself in a way that cannot be fixed. It is only through very, very powerful magics and rituals that one survives the ritual to create a Horcrux but even then, you are irreversibly damaged. One's soul is who they are and how they live. It is why you can only place a Horcrux into an inanimate object. It does not have a soul of its own. 

“For you to house this Horcrux means that the impossible has happened. It means that you house two souls. Your own and Tom Riddle's. These two souls, because one cannot actually have two, have bonded and merged into this. Your core. If I remove this soul piece I will essentially be killing you, I would rip out part of your soul.”

Malefic was silent for a very long moment. “And if I were to create a Horcrux? Would that remove it?”

Retina sighed. “It is a possibility. But not a guarantee. You may just pull from your own soul and none of Tom Riddle's.”

He waved his hand and the strands disappeared. “To be frank with you, Heiress Addams, you should be dead. No being should survive with a second soul, it is not normal to absorb it as you have. Though, I suspect, your relationship with Lord Death has a lot to do with it.”

As if to confirm his words a black butterfly landed on the cot beside Malefic's thigh. They both stared at it in tense silence. 

“So we can do nothing? I will house him in me forever? I will never be completely my own person?” 

“No, there is nothing we can do,” Retina confirmed. “However, it is not killing you from what I can tell. Though, only time will tell if that will remain to be true. Souls are fickle things, a single disturbance could set it off and you could die.”

“I won't die. Death won't let that happen,” Malefic answered, not thinking twice of her words. 

Retina watched her unblinkingly. “Let us go to Sir Blutcrest's office. Your family awaits.”

Blutcrest’s office wasn’t far from the medical wing. Her family awaited her inside the surprisingly large room. Blutcrest wasn’t present. 

“I leave you here, Heiress Addams,” Retina told her. “Please contact me if any new revelations come to light. Blessed be.”

“Blessed be.”

“Heiress Addams?” Wednesday questioned quietly. 

Malefic looked to her sister. By all rights, Wednesday was meant to be heiress to the House of Addams. As the oldest it was her that was meant to inherit the title. But, amongst the many surprising revelations on her inheritance test, it seemed Malefic now held the title. Malefic hadn’t even given the change in title a second glance, much more invested in her newfound identity and the soul shard that belonged to a racist attached to her core. But now, as she looked to her sister that up until then had been Heiress Addams, she couldn’t help but question it. Was it because she had borne magic where Wednesday didn’t? That had certainly not stopped Lady Magic from giving the lordship to her father. 

“It said on the test that I am heiress of the house,” Malefic responded shortly.

Wednesday nodded. Malefic wondered if she even cared about the sudden loss of heirship. She didn’t seem to, returning to her quiet conversation with Thing. Wednesday had always said she hated the aristocracy of the Community. In fact, Wednesday hated any form of government and authority. 

Blutcrest walked in. A much older goblin followed him in. The Potter accounts manager.

"You’re all here,” he noted. He sounded disappointed by the fact — he had most probably hoped that Malefic’s ordeal would lead to her demise. He gestured to the goblin behind him. “Meet General Kumhaarblood, Potter accounts manager as well as general of the English goblin army," Blutcrest introduced. 

"An honour to meet you General Kumhaarblood," Gomez said with his first over his chest and his head bowed. The family followed suit in his greeting. Kumhaarblood. “The honour is mine, Lord Addams.” Everyone sat. 

“To start, I believe it would be best for Heiress Addams to show us her inheritance test. It will give more clarity on the situation at hand.”

Malefic nodded and wordlessly placed the test on Blutcrest’s table. Kumhaarblood read it first, face expressionless as he took it in. Then he glanced up at her, eyes unreadable. 

“I had wondered what Dumbledore had done to you. When you did not receive the bank statements I presumed you were under heavy wards. It seems I was mistaken. You were in a different country under a different name.” He said his words slowly and deliberately, like every word was carefully thought about and articulated precisely. Malefic could see how he became a general. 

Malefic noticed her parents reading over the test beside her. “It was not intentional on my part,” Malefic told him. “I only found out who my birth parents were today.”

Grandmama began going over the test. Kumhaarblood hummed. “Yes. Rather strange. How is it that you came into contact with the Addams bloodline? I could never imagine Dumbledore handing you over to a family like them.”

“You keep bringing up Dumbledore,” Morticia spoke. “What does he have to do with Malefic?”

“And why,” Grandmama added, sounding uncharacteristically serious, “was he formerly her magical guardian? He is a politician and a headmaster, he had no business as her guardian.”

Kumhaarblood looked Grandmama up and down. “Eudora Addams. It is difficult to imagine you as a better guardian.”

“Yes, odd that Lady Magic would allow you such a position,” Malefic told her grandmother.

“Better than Dumbledore,” Blutcrest muttered darkly. “Meddling old coot.”

Morticia and Gomez exchanged a look. “You did not answer me. What does Dumbledore have to do with Malefic?”

Kumhaarblood let out a heavy sigh. “Albus Dumbledore controls the media outlet of Maya Potter. He keeps the public informed of her status and assures them that she is healthy and training to defeat Voldemort should he ever return.” He glanced at the paper, eyes hovering over the word 'Horcrux'. “That return seems a lot more plausible now. I assume that you couldn't get it removed?” He addressed Malefic directly here. 

Malefic shook her head. “It is tied to my own soul. Removing it would kill me.”

Kumhaarblood looked grim but not surprised. “Yes, I suspected when Sir Blutcrest mentioned the situation. My sincerest apologies, Heiress Po— Addams.” He looked momentarily thrown by his own stumble. In a single day Malefic had seen more emotion from the goblins than she had in her nearly eleven years of life. And it was because of her which she knew was not a good thing. “As I was saying, Dumbledore has been telling the wican world about you. I had suspected he placed you somewhere out of reach. I had not expected him to be lying. Because I am sure he was not the one to bring her to you?” He looked at Morticia and Gomez questioningly. 

Gomez shook his head. “No, no. Malefic was brought to us by Liege Fate, Lord Death at their side. He's been watching over her for years now.”

Blutcrest seems to choke. “Liege Fate brought her to you?”

“Yes,” Morticia responded calmly. “That is a story for another time however. Now I believe it is time to talk of wealth. Let us settle Malefic's accounts.”

Gomez suddenly seemed very excited, Malefic noted that Pugsley too perked up. 

The goblins exchanged a look before coming to a silent agreement. “Yes, let's. We'll start with November 2010,” Blutcrest said leaning forward. 

⋘═══ ∘◦☾◦∘ ═══⋙

SHE LOOKED NOTHING like her.

In all the books it was said that Maya Potter had brunette hair with a red undertone (“Just like her late father James F. Potter,” said ‘The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts’) and dark green almond eyes (“Just like her mother,” the book added). She had tanned skin that made her eyes pop and a thin sōwilō shaped scar that marked her defeat of Lord Voldemort.

As Malefic looked up from the book, she stared at her reflection in the bookshop window. Red hair that’s shade was akin to blood. Green eyes that Grandmama often compared to the elusive killing curse with a distinct down turned shape that she shared with her mother. Pale skin like a porcelain doll. And most importantly, scars that framed the right side of her face similar to lightning tendrils during a bad storm. 

It wasn’t the identifying mark of Maya Potter that the Community had come to know. The mark drawn onto the faces of children playing heroes. The mark that had speculations falling from academics’ mouths. The mark of the end of terror that had reigned over the British Isles. 

“Malefic, I’ve found your Transfiguration textbook.” Malefic’s eyes broke away from her reflection to look at her sister who was staring at her with a frown. “What are you reading?”

“It’s not important,” Malefic dismissed, closing ‘The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts’ and placing it on the shelf once more. Wednesday’s eyes examined the cover, the “Now With The True Story of Maya Potter” sticker atop the book not escaping her notice. A butterfly flew overhead and landed on top of the sticker, blocking it from view. “Where’s Thing?”

“Flirting with a palmistry book,” Wednesday answered, returning her gaze to her sister. “And Lurch is collecting your Potions books.” There was a sudden shrill scream. “Though, perhaps he isn’t,” Wednesday added looking amused upon realising the sound had come from the Potions aisle. 

The sisters made their way to their undead butler, knowing that he was more than likely the source of distress. Sure enough, on the other end of the aisle a red-headed witch stood pointing her wand at Lurch who stood in the middle of the aisle, looking at her blankly. Her hair was much more orange than Malefic’s own rusted red locks.

Now, the Community was a rather bigoted place. Many ‘light’ wixen had a tendency to discriminate against any classified as dark magic. Malefic had heard enough of Grandmama’s rants about ‘do-gooder light witches that need a good cursing to see just how superior their light magic was’ to know this was true.

Some magical populations were very blatant about their hate - the British isles banning death magic altogether came to mind (for death magic was one of the darkest magics one could get). It was why the Addams family had a tendency to stick to Wartal Alley when visiting the Community, they didn’t have to deal with irritating wixen that couldn’t differentiate between dark and evil in that alley. Unfortunately, Wartal Alley didn’t have the textbooks that Malefic needed for her schooling and thus they had ventured into the densely populated area of Horizont Alley. 

However, for how hateful they were, Malefic had never thought they would actually attack her family. They were hateful but they were hateful cowards. So when a light flew from the young woman’s wand and hit Lurch with a force that made the undead man grunt, Malefic was momentarily stunned. Lurch had been attacked. The witch had attacked him.

Deciding her next actions quickly, Malefic plastered on a sweet smile and sauntered over to the witch, trailing her hand over Lurch’s shoulder to push some more death magic into his body as she passed him. “You seem very frightened,” she told the red head, false sympathy lacing her words. “May I have your name?" She asked politely, holding out her hand as waiting for something to be placed on it. 

The witch's wand lowered slightly, eyeing Lurch behind Malefic. She blinked at the butterflies that seemed to follow after Malefic, watching as one landed on the girl’s shoulder before flying overhead with the others. After a moment she put out her hand and wrapped it around Malefic to shake it. “Monica Weasley, what's your name?”

Malefic’s sympathetic smile became a wolf-like grin. "Malefic Addams, Heiress of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Addams. And you Miss Weasley have just attacked a member of my house outside of battle or defence and therefore have given me a clause to start a blood feud with your family.”

Monica paled, the skin around her pink lips turning completely white. There wasn’t a soul in the Community that hadn’t heard of the Addams’. “It was defence!” Monica argued, her voice shrill. “That-that thing is an Inferi!”

The crowd that had gathered let out a gasp of horror and most looked to Lurch who held a few books that Wednesday had given him to hold as she continued to shop - Wednesday trusted that her sister would deal with the situation accordingly, there was no need for her to get involved.

Malefic’s eyes hardened, all of the faux sweetness she had shown the Weasley girl gone. “It would be in your best interest not to insult me, Miss Weasley. To attack one of my own and then to imply that my magic is subpar, I should just deliver your head on a platter to your family, I'm sure it would cause them less issues. Former Most Ancient and Noble House of Weasley, correct?"

“I-” Monica sputtered. “I'm not a part of the main line. They’re all in Britain.” It was all she could manage to say in light of the situation.

"Oh," Malefic said, raising her eyebrow. "All the more reason to deliver your head then, you wipe the name of the main line through the mud with your behaviour. It really would be in the best interest of your family.” She tilted her head consideringly. “Though, perhaps I’m being a bit harsh. Letting curses and insults fall from your mouth, I should let the punishment fit the crime. Delivering them your tongue sounds fitting, yes?”

Monica seemed at a loss for words. Malefic grinned once more, revealing even her molars in the ferociousness of the action. “As I am feeling generous, a true rarity I might add, I will leave your tongue intact and allow the slight toward the House of Addams to be ignored this once, on the condition that you apologise to Lurch and can identify just how it is that you insulted me.’

Monica hastily treaded toward Lurch and murmured an awkward, “I'm sorry for attempting to use a hex on you.” Malefic scoffed. That was how five year old's apologised, not representatives of houses.

Monica attempted to walk away, something that Thing - who had arrived amidst the chaos in hopes of seeing blood be spilt - thought to rectify. He jumped onto her soldier and tapped it three times to gain her attention. He pointed to Malefic as if to remind the Weasley girl she still had one more thing to do. Monica glanced at her shoulder and let out a shrill scream at the sight of the animated hand. She all but flung Thing off her persons and ran as fast as she could, the action reminded Malefic much of the time that Grandmama had chased that man around the forest insisting that they were meant to be. 

“I command Monica Weasley to stand still,” Malefic murmured. Monica came to a halt as if she had been pulled back by string. Her face was etched with terror as she realised she could not move. The crowd parted in terror as Malefic stepped toward the red head. Tears had begun to roll down the girl’s face and a whimper sounded from her throat as she watched Malefic’s approach.

“I gave you a chance,” she hissed, maintaining eye-contact with the terrified witch. “I was merciful. And you spat it in my face. You attacked my family. You insulted my magic. You disrespected your house and mine with your inability to hold your tongue.” 

Monica whimpered again, shaking her head frantically. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she sobbed. “I didn’t mean to.”

Malefic tilted her head then brought her hands up to the witch’s face, wiping her tears and cradling her as if she were trying to comfort her. Malefic was rather tall for her age and Monica rather short.

The crowd of onlookers watched silently, holding their breaths, awaiting the horror that they were certain was about to unfold. You never messed with an Addams. You never ran from an Addams. You never tried to take prey away from an Addams.

“Monica Weasley,” Malefic whispered, bringing her lips to the girl’s ear. “You should be very careful who you give your name to. Don’t worry, you won’t have to worry about a slip of the tongue ever again.” A tense silence, only Monica’s distressed gasps filled the air. 

Malefic let go of Monica’s face. “I command Monica Weasley to rip out her tongue.”

As Malefic started to walk to the till, Lurch, Thing and Wednesday following closely, screams filled the air from behind her. She grinned at the cashier who looked sick. “I’ll take a bag, please,” Malefic told her.

⋘═══ ∘◦☾◦∘ ═══⋙

IN A HOMEY little alley between a quaint second-hand bookshop and an astrology based store Malefic told her parents of the events that transpired in the bookshop with Wednesday adding her own tidbits as the story was narrated.

Grandmama gave her a good pat on the back. “Well done, Mina. Though, I would have kept the tongue.”

“We should finish up our shopping,” Morticia said. “I don’t like spending more time in this alley than necessary. It’s very,” she pursed her lips, “bright. And that girl’s actions concern me, just because Lurch didn’t get injured doesn’t mean he couldn’t have. Best to leave before anyone else gets emboldened as she did.” A dark cloud seemed to form over the family at her words.

The family left the small alleyway with lips pressed into thin lines and dark thoughts in their mind. Of course Gomez, ever the optimist, was the first to break out of this stupor. "Ma Petite Cadavérique, would you like to get a companion to accompany you to your school?"

Morticia realised what he was referring to half a second before Malefic did. “Gomez, she already has an owl.”

“Ah but Cara Mia, a child can never have too many companions. Perhaps we could get Pugsley a rat as well, he's been needing a new lab assistant!” If ‘assistant’ meant experiment then Gomez got it right on the nose. “We can return home afterward.”

Morticia didn't protest any further, only led them into a purple marble pet's emporium that Grandmama commented would be an excellent setting to sacrifice a baby to Lady Magic at (and the woman wondered why she had been booted from Britain).

The emporium was filled with owls. There were cats and toads as well but they didn't seem to be having nearly as much fun in the emporium as the birds were. In fact, if Malefic wasn't mistaken the eagle owl in the corner was eating what looked to be a small black cat. Lovely.

"Can I help you?" The employee at the counter asked in what Malefic recognised as a customer service voice.

Malefic looked at the employee that sat at the front desk. He wore dragonhide boots and overalls and while they wouldn't be all too appropriate in a formal setting, they were perfect for an emporium that was animal-based. His name tag read:

'Well met! My name is: 

OLLIE WALLIWITZ

And I'm happy to help!'

He certainly didn't look happy. If anything he looked tired, the dark bags under his eyes told her that much. But he was offering to help them which, to be fair, is more than Malefic would've done.

Gomez started speaking to him which Malefic took as the go ahead to start looking around because once Gomez starts speaking to someone he found remotely interesting he wouldn't stop speaking to them. And once he stopped speaking to them, he continued to speak about them. Chances were Ollie Walliwitz was going to be adopted into the family in some way, Gomez liked picking up strays.

Malefic found herself drawn to a discreet corner of the emporium, the whispers of the snakes tucked away in the corner calling to her.

“Approach me! Be at ease, large prey! You will make a fine sacrifice!” She looked at the loud snake. 

Malefic was a Parselmouth, a fact she had learned years prior when she had set a snake on Pugsley. Grandmama had been delighted, claiming that it was a gift that the Addams’ had lost over the centuries and that Malefic was the first in over two hundred years to have the gift. (“Cousin Glycon spoke it last, it was such a terrible language. I could listen to it all day,” Grandmama had sighed. “Didn’t Cousin Glycon die two hundred years ago? How do you know what it sounds like?” “Don’t ask silly questions, Mabel. Now ask that snake to bite the neighbour, I’ve been craving farmer.”)

She had never really understood the concept of Parseltongue, it wasn’t a branch of magic and only a limited number of people could speak it. It wasn’t a language one could learn but naturally had the ability to speak. How did it work? Why could only certain bloodlines speak it if magic cores had nothing to do with it? Genetics didn’t involve the ability to speak a language. It was a topic Grandmama had a tendency to skim over when Malefic questioned it. She didn’t find it irritating at all. 

The snake that had called to her was large - it looked as if it could crush a car with its size should it so please. Dark purple and varying shades of green decorated its body and at the top of its head there was a shape that looked very much like a skull. After taking a moment to consider her options Malefic approached the snake.

"Yes! Yes!" The snake all but sang, eyeing her as if she were a pig roast at a buffet.

"What is your name?" She asked it, her tongue curling in a way that it never did when she spoke human languages.

The snake looked startled then its yellow eyes seemed to start gleaming with a delight she had seen on Grandmama's face when she had put poison into the family's food. “I am Facilier, young speaker. Might I have your name?”

He uncurled his tail and held as if it were a hand waiting for something to be placed on it. Malefic grinned, as if she would fall for that trick. She had used it to rip out Monica Weasley’s tongue, never would she be foolish enough to make such a mistake. “You most certainly cannot have it,” she told him. “You may call me Malefic.”

“Oh yes, you are a clever one,” Facilier crooned in delight. “Tell me Malefic, have you heard of my namesake?”

A smirk fell onto Malefic's face. “I have. He is a part of my family tree.Though, I suppose saying you is more accurate?”

“I should have known. An Addams. You have that smell to you. Along with a beautiful tinge of-” he seemed to give a content sigh “-blood. Who did you kill, Malefic?”

“I didn’t kill her,” Malefic corrected him. “I ripped out her tongue.”

“Oh?” Facilier sounded delighted by the fact. “Brutality and intelligence? It seems the family line hasn’t fallen too far since I died. You have potential to bring greatness to the Addams family name. Of course, I would rather it be me but Lady Magic has a cruel way of punishment and I was reincarnated as a snake of all things.”

Just as Malefic had assumed. Lady Magic wasn’t fond of those that tried to control what was hers and, for all his brilliance, Facilier had foolishly tried to control the shadows - Lady Magic’s favourite children. It seemed that the Addams family had an affinity for pissing off Lady Magic - even those that technically had no Addams blood in them, like Facilier when he was alive (picking up strays didn’t start with Gomez). 

“Tell me Malefic, what are your plans? World domination? Line theft of some sort? Perhaps taking over the tri-state area?”

“Returning the Addams line to the British Isles,” she informed him. (And trying to avoid the foolish notion that she should fight Voldemort should he return - and he would - based on recent revelations.)

Facilier looked intrigued. “You’ve been allowed to return? What of Eudora’s actions?”

“My acceptance to Hogwarts nullifies her ban.”

Facilier hissed out a laugh. “Educational Decree Number One, I’m sure they’ll think twice about keeping the decree with your arrival. Oh, you’re going to be magnificent. Take me out of this damned cage, Malefic. Allow me to guide you to greatness.”

A tempting offer however Malefic wasn't one to be manipulated by pretty words. “How does this benefit you, Doctor? If the stories are true then you wouldn't do this out of the kindness of your heart.”

“Perhaps a little too smart,” Facilier mused, raising his head a little higher. “Your words ring true Malefic, this is not just about you. However I do believe it would be beneficial to the both of us for you to take me with you. I will make sure I have the benefit of siding with power and guiding that power, ensuring that you raise yourself to be a proper Dark Lady and you get protection and undying loyalty from your reincarnated ancestor.”

A rather weak argument but Malefic had, admittedly, been swayed. Not because she was interested in anything the snake had offered, but because, no matter how much she wished to deny it, she found herself amused by the reptile. Without any further hesitation she reached into the snake habitat and allowed Facilier to slither his way around her neck as if he were a scarf.

“Ma Petite Cadavérique!” Gomez exclaimed in joy approaching his daughter with Ollie Walliwitz following behind looking just as tired as before. Around Malefic's neck, Facilier made a confused noise that she elected to ignore for the time being. “I see you have chosen a companion! A marvellous specimen! May I hold him?”

“I will gut you,” Facilier hissed, “and feed your innards to Hades' cerberus!”

“I'm afraid that wouldn't be a wise decision Father, he does not seem to like you very much,” Malefic told him bluntly.

"Of course I do not like him! He looks just like his father, the scoundrel. I’m sure he is just like him, their smiles are the same!” Facilier spat. “I should have been the one to kill him, curse that mob!”

Gomez was not offended by her words, instead he let out a joyous laugh and told Facilier that he admired his honesty.

“I admire your right eye, maybe my shadow could rip it out for you,” Facilier grumbled. 

“Malefic.” She looked to where her sister had called her from. Wednesday wasn't looking at her. Instead she was maintaining eye contact with the snowy owl that was situated on one of the beams that supported the roof. 

“Do behave,” Malefic told Facilier offhandedly as she placed him into her father's arms and approached her sister.

Once she was standing beside the older girl the owl broke eye contact with Wednesday and flew to land on Malefic's shoulder and -

Oh.

That was odd. A magic surrounded the snowy owl, a pressing one that Malefic knew wasn't normal. Had she never interacted with a magical owl before she would have assumed it was some sort of owl magic that she didn't understand but Malefic's first encounter with an owl had happened just that very morning. Goetic, even after he had been altered by her death magic, hadn't had such an aura surrounding him.

This owl felt similar to Death. And yet the opposite? Otherworldly and beyond human comprehension. It felt as old as time itself and yet like it had just taken its first breath. This owl was Life. A pure white butterfly flew from the owl’s back and landed in Malefic’s hair. 

The owl swooped down and situated itself on her shoulder and stared at her with an intensity she couldn’t read.

"Hello," Malefic said, pushing just a tad bit of the familiar black magic to her fingertips and stroking the top of the owl's head. The owl crooned as if delighted by the magic that it was being exposed to. “Would you like to return home with us?” 

The owl briefly pulled away from her caress to make eye contact with her. Then it shook its head. Malefic understood, it did not want to be owned. It would find her.

“Father,” Malefic said, still stroking the owl. “I suspect this owl will be following us home.”

“Splendid!” His words sounded almost choked causing both his daughters to look at him. Malefic wished she could say she was surprised to see Facilier attempting to choke her father but she wasn't. Catching sight of their gazes Gomez thought it appropriate to comment, “He gives delightful hugs!”

⋘═══ ∘◦☾◦∘ ═══⋙

Chapter Text

▬ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ▬

MINERVA MCGONAGALL WAS HAVING a rather pleasant day until the corpse showed up. 

Responses from new students had been rushing in and she was marking down the names of each child — it was a dull job, yes, but as the years passed she had learned to enjoy it. She had grown to expect the appearance of owls delivering responses, so much so that she barely looked up at the swoosh of wings. 

Her eyes had swept over the newly arrived owl briefly, as they did with every owl, only this time she looked twice. 

She swore. Loudly. 

A skeleton of an owl stared at her hauntingly, clutching an envelope in its beak. Her wand was out in a moment, pointed threateningly at the bird. The bird looked, if such a thing could describe a corpse, unimpressed. 

It jumped forward nodding its head as if trying to prompt her to take the letter. Minerva stared at the creature for a long moment before shooting her hand out to take the response and snatching it back as if burned. Somehow the corpse looked even more unimpressed at the display, it shook its skull before raising its wings and taking off in flight. 

Minerva swallowed, what sort of family used such a creature? She could only think the worst. 

Upon opening the letter however she realised it was worse than whatever her imagination could have conjured up. Much worse. 

“Albus!” The witch screeched all but sprinting up to the headmaster's office. “Albus, you have to do something!”

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore looked startled at his employee’s sudden distressed appearance. “Minerva, dear, you look like you've seen a ghost. Are you alright?”

Minerva's lips pressed together thinly, her trembling hand clutched the letter in her hand tightly. “Albus, they're coming back.”

Albus raised his eyebrows, there were few people that could evoke such contempt in Minerva McGonagall. “Who is ‘they’, Minerva?”

“The Addams',” she whispered as if the family would hear her and rip her fingernails from her hands. 

“Let me see the letter, Minerva,” Albus said gently.

The witch handed the parchment to the headmaster. As Albus read the letter his white eyebrows raised high enough that they disappeared behind his silvery hair. 

“I will check the List of Names, Minerva. I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation for this and I will sort it out. Worry not.”

Minerva remained tense but she did nod, albeit stiffly. “Thank you, Albus. And I apologise for my loss of composure. It's just… the Addams'.”

Albus gave her a kind smile, standing up from his chair. “I understand, Minerva. The Addams family are very dark and very dangerous. I'd be more concerned if you weren't wary of this Malefic child's letter. I will go check the List of Names now and, as I said, I will sort it all out.”

Minerva sighed. “I have other acceptance letters to process,” she remembered. “Hopefully none carry news as awful as this one.”

Albus watched her leave, her shoulders straight as a board and her spine looking like a pole. He opened the door behind the bookcase below Phineas Nigellus’ portrait and stepped into the dark room behind it. 

The List of Names was as old as Hogwarts itself. It added the names of prospective students beneath the year they would start Hogwarts every time a wixen child performed their first bout of accidental borne magic within the British Isles. As the school year started, that batch of names disappeared to make room for a new year of students as the list was always five years ahead. It was a powerful bit of magic - blessed by Lady Magic herself if the rumours were true - that displayed the true names of each prospective student. As it was incredibly dangerous to place people’s names in the hands of just anybody, only headmasters were permitted to see the list and they had to take vows that disallowed them from ever using the name for their own gain or passing on the name to another. 

Names could not be removed from the list by anybody save for Lady Magic and Liege Fate which meant that if an Addams had truly been admitted then there was nothing Albus could do about it and he knew it. What Albus was actually doing with the list was checking if the Addams child’s name was truly on the list. 

The Addams’ were banned from setting foot in the British Isles so by all accounts it was impossible that Malefic Addams’ name was on the List of Names. 

The list was ordered alphabetically which meant that finding the Addams surname was easy. Albus wished it hadn’t been. He wished the name hadn’t been there at all. That is, until he truly looked at the name. 

When a child died their name was removed from the list so when the Potter surname was nowhere to be found on the list following Albus leaving Maya Potter at her aunt’s house he had assumed the girl was dead. He didn’t tell anybody, the world needed a little hope following Tom’s reign of terror and if a dead child brought that to them, who was Albus to take that away? 

It seemed however that Albus should’ve looked at the list more thoroughly.

Addams-Potter, Mayfield Malefic

Maya Potter was alive and she had been raised by the Addams family.

⋘═══ ∘◦☾◦∘ ═══⋙

THE LANDSCAPE WAS bare and white. So white you could not be sure whether the space expanded far and wide or would only allow a few steps. The vast nothingness of it all made it easy for her to see him. He was a little way from her looking around the space contemplatively.

"Hello," she murmured, startling him.

"Who are you?" He hissed. Malefic blinked, surprised by his Parseltongue. Never had it crossed her mind that she may have had the ability due to him.

“Well Riddle—” his red eyes flashed in surprise at the address “—I am you, or rather, I am your host.”

“That’s not possible,” he informed her. He stared down at her condescendingly. For a man that looked to be in his twenties it was rather pitiful that he stared down at an eleven year old with such an expression. “Horcruxes can only be housed in inanimate objects.” 

“I am glad that you are aware you are a Horcrux, this would be a lot harder had you not. But it does mean that you should know that I would not be able to communicate with you had you been housed in an object.”

Riddle eyed her critically, taking note of her words and analysing the possibilities of her actually being his host. “What is your name?”

“Malefic Addams,” she responded. 

Riddle's eyebrow raised. “Addams? As in the Ancient and Most Noble House of Addams? How did I end up with you?”

Malefic weighed her options as she thought over her response. “Before I was Malefic Addams I was Maya Potter. A name I'm sure you recognise,” she decided to say. 

Riddle looked shocked. “You— I was going to kill you.”

“Yes, and you failed. You became a scary story and I went down in history as a hero when I was a year old. Did your 'pure blood' save you from that, Voldemort?” She said his name with a mocking tone. Riddle recoiled as if struck. 

“I am not a pureblood,” was all he could find himself saying. 

“No,” Malefic agreed. Riddle was not a noted name in the Community's aristocracy. “But you are a pureblood supremacist. Internalised racism at its finest.”

“It was a means to an end. The sheep believed it and what better way to become their shepard than by manipulating them using their skewed beliefs.”

Riddle was sprawled on the floor before he even realised the fist had come for his face. He stared wildly up at Malefic, clutching his throbbing cheek. 

“A means to an end? Perhaps in the beginning but you certainly bought into it toward the end. Do you not recall the atrocities you committed, using blood purity as the fuel for your violence?”

Riddle sneered up at her. “An Addams lecturing me about violence? What has the world come to?”

“I do not care how violent you are. Murder means little to me and torture is a fun pass time. But doing it when it is rooted in hate for things people can't control? Well, there is a reason I've been banned from stepping foot in Iowa ever again and I'd be more than happy to show you.” She glared down at the man, looking at him as if he were nothing more than a bug beneath her shoe. 

Riddle glared back before slumping and putting his head into his hands. “I don't know what happened. It was like one moment I was laughing at the ignorance of purebloods and the next I was laughing with them about the weakness of half-bloods and muggleborns. I started to believe the words that tormented me as an adolescent and I don't know why. Then I showed up here and clarity came rushing back.”

Malefic stared at him for a long moment. “How many Horcruxes did you make, Riddle?”

“Including you? Six. Though I had planned to make seven due to the powerful magic associated with the number.” There was a long pause. “When I first heard of them I had planned to make only three. Three is also a powerful number after all. However, by the time that the third one had been made something in me had changed and suddenly, three wasn't enough.”

“You fear Death?”

“You do not?” Riddle scoffed. 

“Death is mine. I could never fear him.”

Riddle looked at her in disbelief. “It is in human nature to fear Death.”

“Human nature does not apply to me,” she responded easily. 

Riddle gave a harsh, derisive laugh. “I thought so too. And look at me. Trapped in the empty landscape of a child's mind.”

Malefic decided not to tell him of her status as Mistress of Death. Instead she continued questioning him. “What was your plan before you lost your mind to insanity?”

Riddle reeled back as if she had hit him again. “I did not lose my mind to insanity!” He hissed. 

Malefic was unimpressed by the weak rebuttal. “You tore your soul into six pieces. You are a non-pureblood that began to believe non-purebloods deserve death. You tried to murder a one year old. You lost your mind, Riddle.”

“I was the heir of Slytherin. I was revered and feared. I was someone. Now look at me, being lectured by the child I tried to murder as a babe.”

Malefic stared at the pathetic shard of a man before her. She had no sympathy for him. He took Lady Magic's gift and tore it up. He tried to escape Lord Death, tried to escape what was hers and what was the natural order. But…

A man did not get to be in the position Voldemort had been with fear alone. Somehow, some time, Riddle had been something more. Something great. 

“What was your plan before you lost your mind to insanity?” she asked again. 

Riddle looked up at her, like a disciple to a god, and he told her of how he had planned to make the Community great once more. 

⋘═══ ∘◦☾◦∘ ═══⋙

“THIS HOUSE HAS a soul.” This was the first thing Facilier said to Malefic as she stepped out of bed.

The Mansion, as if in agreement, gave a rumble.

“It does,” she agreed. She moved to her closet to get her clothes for the day.

The Addams Family Mansion was sentient, that much was a fact. Having served as a mental asylum years prior to Morticia and Gomez moving in, it was rather expected that there would be negative energy that remained.

More than just negative energy had remained. 

Through an unknown process that had even Grandmama scratching her head the Mansion had developed a soul. And with that soul came a violent personality.

For years after they had moved in the Mansion had tried to purge the Addams' out. It slowed to the occasional threat or violent act after Wednesday was born.

The Mansion had grown to grudgingly accept them — well, as accepting as a violent, angry house could get to residents it didn't want. All except for Malefic. 

The Mansion adored her. 

In her first year with the Addams' through a bout of somewhat accidental magic Malefic had pushed some of her Death magic into Lurch, strengthening him significantly. 

Lurch had been a patient at the Mansion when it was still an asylum. When Morticia and Gomez had moved in he had come back from the dead in a similar question raising way that the Mansion had. He served as a butler of sorts to the family, though he was very limited in his jobs — not even able to go up stairs with his barely functioning decaying body. 

When Malefic came along he had been with the family for about five years. In his sixth year and Malefic's third year of life she had wanted to be picked up by the undead butler. Such an act was impossible considering Lurch's state and so with a push of her magic she raised him from the dead properly.

His body, though having a bit of a grey tinge to it, was as functional and healthy as a living human's. He was stronger than the average human, not being limited by the brain that toned down the body's strength. He too chose not to talk as Malefic couldn't properly fix his damaged vocal cords caused by the axe that had been swung at his neck leading to his death, the damage made it painful to speak so he mostly made use of grunts and shakes of his head. 

The Mansion and Lurch alike adored her for her magic and what it did for them. Which was why when she asked for it the Mansion would move her bedroom and hide it away. 

“Are you going to explain how?” Facilier prompted sounding rather annoyed. 

“No,” she answered and started changing. 

Facilier turned away to give her some decency though he was mumbling things such as “I'll find out how you gave this house a soul” and “could that dress be any more out of fashion?” as she changed. 

Facilier turned back to face her when he heard her vanity table drawer open. He watched as she brushed then tied her hair back with a white ribbon. 

“White?” He couldn't help but question her choic - from what he had seen of the family black was more their colour. He eyed the deep green dress that Malefic wore. Perhaps it was the family's colour but it didn't seem to be Malefic's. 

“For protection,” she explained. Her hand reached out to touch the wall. “An exit, if you please,” she requested as Facilier wrapped himself around her body. 

Much like the day prior a staircase descended from the roof allowing Malefic to exit through the hole that the stairs came from. She entered the entrance hallway and glided toward the kitchen where her family was.

“Malefic!” Fester greeted excitedly. 

“Uncle Fester,” she responded coolly, taking a seat beside Wednesday. “Did you sleep well?”

“Terribly,” he responded, grinning. “I heard that you're going to Hogwarts!”

Malefic hummed, reaching for a bowl of Grandmama's oatmeal. 

“Could you cook up a love potion for me?” He asked. 

Malefic took a spoon and ate a bite of her oatmeal, her teeth bit into the eyeball amid the porridge with a satisfying pop. “Love Potions are sexual assault, Uncle Fester, and if you ever ask me to make you one again I will castrate you,” she answered taking another bite. 

Fester gulped, crossing his legs and nodding his understanding frantically.

“Has Goetic returned?” Malefic asked. 

“Yes, he's with that white owl that followed us home yesterday,” Wednesday answered. “Do you know what her name is?”

“Life,” Malefic told her.

Facilier spat out Fester's foot that he had begun trying to eat to sputter in surprise. “Life? As in Lady Life?”

Malefic turned to the snake. “Yes, Lady Life. Sister of Lord Death whom I am the mistress of.”

“You’re the Mistress of Death?” Facilier all but shouted. 

“You ask a lot of questions, it is rather annoying,” Malefic said in lieu of answering. 

“You are infuriating,” Facilier bit out. 

“You say the nicest things.”

Facilier glared at her as if deciding the best way to kill her. Malefic looked back at her family and to her surprise Grandmama was staring at her, her mouth agape. 

“Grandmama?” Malefic prompted. 

“Makayla,” Grandmama started, "when were you going to tell me you brought home Lady Life?” 

“I didn't bring her home, Grandmama. She followed us.”

“Morgana!” Grandmama screeched, drawing herself up to her full height (which was, admittedly, not very high). “Lady Life has touched your soul! Lord Death will not want you anymore!”

Malefic's eyes hardened. “Lord Death tied another's soul to mine so that I may live, Grandmama, he would not leave me because his sister wishes to hang around us.”

“The Horcrux,” Morticia stated. “I did want to question you about that, Malefic.”

“Horcrux? What Horcrux?” Facilier questioned. 

Malefic ignored him. 

“We did some reading last night, your father and I, and we know now what it is. What we want to know is how it got there and what it means for you,” Morticia continued. 

Malefic stared at the oatmeal, an eyeball stared back. 

“As you know before Liege Fate brought me to you, I was Maya Potter. You all know the story of Maya Potter,” she started. The room was silent, all attention on Malefic. The behaviour was unwelcome. Their stares made her want to rip out her teeth. “Dark Lord Voldemort is a borne wizard formerly known as Tom Marvolo Riddle. On the Samhain eve that Riddle tried to kill Maya Po — me, tried to kill me, something went wrong. Lord Death interfered and a part of the man's soul attached to my own.”

“His soul?” Wednesday questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“What was left of it,” Malefic confirmed. “Riddle created five other Horcruxes before he went to kill the Potters, he had planned to use my death to fuel the creation of his sixth.”

“The goblins told you this?” Gomez asked. 

“No, Riddle did. I spoke with him. Last night. The visit to Gringotts triggered some sentience in him.”

Morticia narrowed her eyes. “How would a simple visit trigger sentience?”

“Bloodkeeper Crannquill thought it best to see if the soul piece could be removed, unsure if it would harm me, and Lifebearer Retina was inclined to agree so he brought forth my core — though, from what I understand, my soul is also an apt description — to investigate what could be done. He unravelled my borne and my death magic —”

“You saw your cores!” Grandmama screeched. “There are very few who can say such a thing. How did they look?" Grandmama asked much akin to an awed child. 

Malefic barely refrained from scrunching up her face. Both at the interruption and at the request. How did she describe perfection? How did she describe the woven tapestries of her soul designed by Lady Magic herself?

Had she been sentimental she would've said they were the threads that held together her entire being. The start and finish of the cloth that made Malefic who she was. A duet of black and white stitched together in harmony to create her. 

She would have said that her Death magic could be likened to the darkness of Nyx’s palace, to Lord Death's hand cradling her face in the darkest hour as he guided her through resurrecting a mouse. 

She would have said that her Borne magic was not dissimilar to the light that Apollo brought as the sun rose, to the feathers that covered Lady Life's mortal form. 

But Malefic was not sentimental. Not out loud anyway. 

“Sufficient,” she answered. 

“He unravelled your cores…?” Wednesday prompted. 

“He unravelled my cores and informed me that to remove it would more than likely damage my soul and my magic. Seeing as it has bonded to my cores as if it is my own, there is little chance it is doing me any harm. If there is any indication of change in that assessment, Lifebearer Retina says we must owl him.”

“Are you going to owl him about the centipede of your Horcrux?” Pugsley asked. 

“Sentience,” Malefic corrected with an eye roll. “Perhaps, though Riddle seems harmless if not a little unstable. He did tell me of his initial plans before he lost his sanity, however, and I wish to discuss them. Before he destroyed his soul and, subsequently, his mind he had some plans that would benefit the Community greatly.”

Morticia and Gomez shared a look Grandmama stared at her as if she were g

oing to be the following night's dinner. 

“Tell us,” Morticia instructed. “Leave nothing out.”

“This oughta be good,” Facilier mumbled. 

⋘═══ ∘◦☾◦∘ ═══⋙