Disclaimer: Do not own Addams Family nor Harry Potter, please enjoy this story though.

In a very normal town, full of very normal people, there was, but one mar. On the most southern corner, there was a large home, a mansion really, where it was always cloudy and dark, the sun never shone, but the evenings bare its sky to the moon and stars. A angular, towering mansion, with steeples and a bell that chimed a deep somber note every midnight. Cobwebs in the windows, dead bushes full of sharp thorns lining the paths, always tugging at you. There was a colony of bats that hovered in the area, and it was suspected that there was an underground cave system, and in fact there was. No one wanted to visit this place; not the marketers, nor the mailman, whom had no real choice in the matter. The neighbors brutally ignored the place, for its figure and form was repulsive to their normality, and even acknowledging it gave them deep shivers to the bones. And this was the place that the Addam's called home.

In this normal American town, one very unnatural thing flew overhead in perfect sunlight. An eagle owl of enormous brawn flew over the cookie cutter houses. A few turned their eyes to the air, baffled.. but when they realized where this owl was heading, they abruptly lost all interest in it. For nothing that came of that home was anything pleasant to notice. Their was an explosive shot, followed by a screech, and the owl came tumbling down into the yard.

"Good shot squirt!" Fester Addams told Pugsly approvingly. "I'm sure Grandmama can fix an excellent roast with that mangy bird!" Pugsly flushed, pleased, before tromping off through the thorn bushes. He ignored them as they cut into his arms and legs, as a little pain was commonplace in their home, but frowned as it tore his pants up. 'Father will not be pleased.' He thought to himself, before shrugging. The reward Grandmama would give him far outweighed the punishment Father could give him.

Entering the clearing, he saw the bird was still alive, although badly wounded. 'A pity, to waste a second shot,' he thought to himself, and approached the bird to snap its neck. The bird twisted in death pangs, revealing a parchment underneath it, blood spattered as it was. Pugsly paused, grimacing. 'Wizarding mail.' He thought to himself, feeling distaste cover his features.

Not that he had any issue with magical folk, he amended. His grandmama was a witch, and so was his mother and sister. But the regular wizarding society had certain beliefs about nonmagical types like himself, and his uncle, both squibs, and his father, who suffered from a damaged magical core.

In fact, Pugsly could tolerate the prejudice to himself, or even his uncle, but his father had a rough time at it. He had learned his fathers history when he was 6 years old, with his twin Wednesday. Father had always suffered illnesses, many illnesses, and could not even function without a machine. Grandmama was completely baffled. All tests came back that there was nothing wrong with him.. except around the age he should have been showing accidental magic, instead his very touch drained the magic out of things.

His father had suffered from a magical core deficiency, so instead of producing magic, it sucked the life saving magic into a void in his core, inducing his many illnesses. There was no cure, and Grandmama had been told to mercy kill her only son. But Grandmama did not give up. Through divination and research she discovered a possible treatment: But it required more than she could manage alone. Only by soul bonding, and sharing magic with their soul mate, would Gomez Addams survive.

So his Grandmama had searched through the magical users of any amount of power in his age range; and came up with one person. Ophelia Frump had a strong magical core, and a deep rooted nature in Herbology. She was a sunlight of magic, and her mother endorsed the arranged marriage immediately. But upon meeting Ophelia, Gomez Addams was so repulsed that he fled.. only to be comforted by her younger sister Morticia.

Morticia had not shown powerful accidental magic. But she had a touch with wild, untameable things. Where Ophelia was a rod, Morticia was a whip. The subtle dark nature took to Gomez immediately, and he felt his health returning. They had soul bonded, without any approval on the matter. For that was what soul bonding really was, uncontrollable.

After a short stint where they were sure they had to suicide to be together, things had been sorted out, and they were wed. Gomez and Morticia shared dark tastes and spread it to their children. The whole family was generally scorned by the wizarding world. The parents as an unnatural occurance and the children as bizarre. And so, as Pugsly frowned at this letter.

"Father is going to be very mad," Pugsly sighed to himself, as he tore the hem of his already ripped shorts, bandaging the owl as best as he could. Mother could do further work on it. He picked the owl up, the blood staining his striped shirt, and stuck the letter in his pocket, wading back to where he left Uncle Fester.

"Whyever did you bandage the goose?" Fester exclaimed. Pugsly simply shook his head, and headed in the house. "Wizarding post," he said over his shoulder.

"Oh, those folk," Fester said, pouting. He had really been looking forward to that roast. Fester followed Pugsly inside, and closed the door with a dusty thud.

Wednesday Addams was a sweet child of ten. She knew just how to make the dolls scream the way she wanted them to, and was ever so helpful with her mothers garden. But she was small for her age, only looking about seven or eight. She knew the potions that had been given to her since she could tend the garden on her own was the cause. But they gave her gifts she was not about to decline for the sake of vanity.

"Mother," Wednesday Addams started. Morticia, trimming the heads off the roses, turned to her daughter. "Yes dear one?" her mother replied.

"Pugsly is coming in the house with some large bird screaming about death and injustice," Wednesday finished. "Can I help its end?" She smiled sweetly at her mother, her fingers trailing magic to the silvertongue plant that she had adopted as her own.

"No dear, you shouldn't take Pugsly's toys from him," Morticia replied softly. Pugsly walked into the room with the owl.

"This isn't any toy Mother," he said somberly. "Its a messenger, and you need to fix it, or we'll get in trouble like the last time." Morticia shook her head amusedly. "Oh Pugsly dear, you would think they would know better than to send those creatures to our home." She pulled the cot out of the wall that she used to tend to creatures, and work necromancy. Pugsly lay the owl down, and pulled the letter out of his pocket, laying it next to the owl.

"It is just a gunshot wound," she told Pugsly. "This is much easier than when you used the cleaver on Wednesday's cat." She started casting over the owl, and it fell into a sleep.

"Oh Mother, I apologized for that already," Pugsly grumbled, as he watched the owl heal. He was more interested in what the letter contained. Wednesday stood, brushing the soil off on her dress skirt. "Its alright Pugs, Envy is prettier now this way." She walked over the the letter, and looked up at her mother. "May I open it mother?"

"Yes dear, just don't get blood on the white of your dress," Morticia said absently. Wednesday carefully unfolded the letter, blood sticking to her hands.

"To Morticia Addams,

As you may be aware, Professor Sprout has requested to split the Herbology classes into two divisions. One division would be first through third year, and second would be fourth through sixth. The fourth through sixth year are to teacher stronger, more dangerous types of flora, which in her age, Professor Sprout can no longer handle, while managing a full classroom of children. She has recommended you as her successor for the second class, as she remembers your prowess with flora and such to be high standard.

She has told me that even as a first year, you had tamed the Whomping Willow as a pet. While it was a disappointment that you transfered out in the middle of your third year, we are would be far appreciated if you would come back for a teaching position this fall.

The best of wishes to you and yours,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards."

A.N. Just hashing out an idea here. I have a couple. Please let me know if you like it. Sorry if there is too much background information in the first chapter. If you have any questions, I'll try to answer them in the next chapter.