Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or The Addams Family.
Harry couldn't believe his luck. Fresh from his third year at Hogwarts and he was going to a camp in America. Well Dudley was going to camp and since Vernon hadn't wanted to put up with his nephew for the summer, Harry was being sent as well. Green eyes watched as the pine trees swept past the rental car's windows and the camps sign loomed ever closer in the distance. 'Camp Chippewa'.
"What does Chippewa mean," Dudley asked his mother and father who were driving. As the obese walrus and anorexic horse looked at one another in confusion, it was naturally Harry who answered.
"It means 'pig'," he muttered. "Congratulations Dudley, you're going to Fat Camp." Even though he knew he shouldn't have said it, it was still liberating to see his cousin's eyes dilate in fear even before his uncle slammed on the brakes, causing the car to fishtail across the road. As Vernon jerked around in his seat to face Harry he was met by the thirteen, nearly fourteen year olds calm eyes, so different from the fearful gaze the boy once held. "You should be careful Uncle Vernon. I wouldn't want to tell my godfather how you nearly killed me in a car crash."
Vernon's face, which had purpled in rage, grew pale rapidly at the mention of the infamous mass murderer, Sirius Black. Of course, Harry had never told his family that Sirius was innocent, but, what they didn't know wouldn't hurt him, especially after blowing up Vernon's sister the summer before. Gulping, the large man quivered behind his mustache and quickly turned back around and began to drive once more.
As the light blue four door sedan pulled into a parking space, Harry could see the happy and cheerful over privileged youth of greeting their friends. He even spotted who he believed to be Piers Polkiss moving somewhere in the crowd. The one particular group caught his attention. They seemed to be quite creepy, and a bit kooky, but really he had no way of describing them other than, fascinating.
Stepping out of the car he watched the rest of his family begin to walk away without so much as a backwards glance except for Vernon who popped the car's trunk. Raising an eyebrow, Harry simply pulled his own shabby suitcase out of the trunk before closing it and walking away. What did he care if Dudley had clothes for the summer?
Dragging his suitcase over toward the tree with the family that had caught his eye, he let it drop just on the other side of them and sat down. The tree wasn't very thick so he was able to see them all more closely. Other than the Frankenstein's monster standing near them, they seemed to be quite normal, except for dressing in all black. "Fresh air… the scent of pine," the father said in disgust around his cigar before he reached into his leisure jacket and handed a cigar to his son and lighting it for him.
"It isn't nice to eaves drop," a girl's voice said from behind the eleven year, nearly causing him to jump. In fact, if he hadn't just faced a hundred Dementors just a little over a week before, he would have. Turning he came face to face with what appeared to be an emotionless girl with black hair braided into pigtails and cold brown eyes. Behind her stood her mother, dressed in a tight form fitting black dress with long black hair. Despite whichever way the wind blew the tree branches, the light only seemed to hit the woman's face, casting the rest of her pale skin into shadow.
"Sorry," Harry said as he stood up, feeling a bit out of place in Dudley's old cast offs which were several sizes too large for him even now. "Your family seemed to be the only ones worth paying attention too," he said with a glance around at all the fair haired children in their expensive clothes with slightly narrowed eyes. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter," he said holding his hand out to the girl.
Looking over her shoulder at her mother for a moment, the girl put her hand in Harry's surprisingly daintily. Slightly shocked, Harry did the only thing he could think of and brought her knuckles to his lips. "Wednesday," the girl said though her voice continued to hold a monotone to it, "Wednesday Addams. This is my mother," she introduced the woman behind her, and Harry found himself once against kissing the back of a hand.
"Finally, someone not so uncouth and… bright," the man Harry assumed to be the father said as he stepped around the tree. "I'm Gomez Addams, this is my lovely wife Morticia," he said wrapping his arm around his wife's waist, "our son Pugsley," he dropped his arm onto the nearly bald headed boy's shoulder, "and you have met our daughter, Wednesday."
"Harry Potter, you know, the name does sound familiar," Morticia cooed as she examined the bespectacled boy's face before she found the lightning bolt scar upon his brow. "Oh yes, the orphan from England Mama kept talking about years ago," she said with a smile as though the thought of being an orphan was something to be amazed by. "Mama likes to dabble in the occult, a trait I like to think I share," the woman explained at Harry's confused face.
"Stupid fame," Harry muttered and shoved his hands into his pocket. "You can't go anywhere without people thinking they know your life's story," he complained mostly to himself.
"Actually," Gomez said, not the least bit perturbed by the youth's angst but rather amused by it, "the Addamses have a few businesses tied into the Potters now that I think about it," he said with a smile. "Why, most of our money comes from various oil drills and lumber mills that are joint-owned by our two families. Well that and a lot of old pirate booty in the family vault," he said with a chuckle before he produced another cigar and handed it to Harry who took it rather nervously.
As the man lit it for him, Harry found the sensation and taste rather odd, but not terrible. "I don't really know much about my family or their businesses," he admitted as he puffed on the cigar. "I live with my aunt and uncle, the walrus and the horse over there," he added thumbing toward the blond haired woman and her dark haired husband who were happily showing off their killer whale sized son. "They don't exactly like mentioning my parents, actually they downright hate anyone with the last name Potter, so it stands to reason I might not be of the Potters you are thinking of."
As Gomez opened his mouth, probably to say it didn't matter, they were interrupted by a sun blond girl in a flower print white dress. "Hi, I'm Amanda Buckman," she said in an overly cheerful voice. "Why are you dressed like that," she asked, rather rudely to the family that Harry had been talking to.
"Like what," Wednesday asked narrowing her eyes. Though Harry could hear the dangerous growl hidden under her usual tone, the blond didn't seem to notice at all.
"Like you're going to a funeral," Amanda said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Why are you dressed like someone died?"
"Wait," was the only response the girl next to Harry gave. Though he knew he should have been terrified, he couldn't help but feel a certain draw to the dark girl. There was something about her that he just found incredibly delightful. Maybe it was because she, like him, didn't belong around this uptight happy-go-lucky pompous rich kids.
"Hi Don Buckman," a man with a used car salesman attitude said as he saddled up to the group wearing a blue blazer and white polo shirt. He held his hand out to Gomez as his wife, who seemed to have a smile painted onto her face walked around the blond on the other side. Harry looked between the family, the black haired father, the brown haired mother and finally the blond haired daughter. Silently he wondered just who the mom was actually sleeping with to get a child that looked nothing like her father.
"Isn't this place something else," the man asked as he took his hand back and put it in his pocket. "Very exclusive. A kid needs to be extra special to get into a place like this, gifted, exceptional. Why, our Amanda has already skipped two grades. How about your boy?"
"Probation," Gomez said beaming with pride and he pulled his cigar smoking son into a one armed embrace. Now the young wizard couldn't help but wonder if the family he had found so intriguing was just messing with people for the fun of it, and couldn't fight back the smile that threatened to split his face.
"We just love Chippewa," the Buckman wife said as she breathed in the fresh pine smell of the camp. "Amanda couldn't wait, it was all she talked about. She's got a whole new wardrobe," she explained. Suddenly her face took on a look of arrogant disgust as she eyed Wednesday, "and this little lady?"
"Oh, Wednesday is at that special age where a girl has only one thing on her mind," Morticia said calmly. The green eyed youth though felt as though the super cheerful family in front of him was being set up and couldn't wait to see the pay off.
"Boys," the woman asked leaning in close to the pigtailed girl's face causing sid girl to narrow her eyes.
"Homicide," the dark little girl answered with a completely straight face. The bob headed brunette nearly jerked back at the answer and her smile became diminished, but no less flashy.
Unable to resist Harry turned to Wednesday with a gleam in his eye. "You know, my godfather is wanted in England for mass murder, I don't know if you yanks have heard of him or not. Sirius Black," he said with a ruthful smirk. He just barely caught Gomez and Morticia eyeing him with an impressed air, whether for actually having a mass murderer for a godfather or for helping them out, he wasn't really sure.
A loud whistle drew everyone's attention from the conversation, causing them to look up to two people dressed in khaki shorts and camp uniform shirts. "Attention! Hey, listen up everybody," the man with curly hair called out. "I'm Gary Granger!"
"And I'm Becky Martin-Granger," the woman beside him yelled. Harry's jaw almost hit the ground as he began to look back and forth between the two. There was no way in Hell those two overly excited people were who he thought they were, but in his mind's eye he began to overlay their looks. Of course, as he did so, his eyes glanced between the two of them where he spotted a familiar mess of brown curls.
As the guests began to applaud, Harry watched as the chocolate brown eyes of one of his best friends caught his own. Yup, there she was, Hermione Jane Granger, looking for the life of her as though she wanted the Earth to open up and swallow her whole. "We're the owners and directors here at Camp Chippewa," Gary Granger said excitedly, "America's fore most facility for… privileged young adults."
"And we're here to learn, to grow, and to just plain have fun," the woman Harry could only guess to be Hermione's mother said with quite a bit of over dramatic excitement.
"Because that's what being privileged is all about," Gary finished for his wife before the two began to hop up and down in place clapping their hands rapidly. Amused, Harry watched as Hermione buried her face in her hands, just before he caught sight of Wednesday next to him preparing to drink what looked to be a bottle of cyanide.
After the quick speech, the children began to meet with their friends, and Harry was nearly bowled over as Hermione nearly tackled him with a hug. "Oh, Harry, I don't know what to say," she said biting her lip as she looked over the weird family keeping the young boy company. "I didn't want you to have to see this. I'm sorry I lied, my parents aren't dentists, as you can plainly see, and I have to spend every summer here."
"It's alright Hermione," Harry said fondly as he hugged his friend back. "Here, these are my new… friends," he said a bit unsure before he introduced his bookworm friend to the Addamses. "So tell me," he said with a slight smirk. "How long has your father been gay?"
"My whole life," Hermione muttered before covering her mouth with her hand seemingly shocked at what she said before she swatted Harry's arm. "Okay, my parents can be a bit enthusiastic, but they're really very nice people Harry, I can't wait to introduce you to them."
"Speaking of embarrassing relatives," Harry muttered as he watched his own family begin to waddle towards the group. "Here comes the circus," he said in a whisper which caused Hermione to giggle and Wednesday to raise an eyebrow. "Mr. and Mrs. Addams, Wednesday, Pugsley and Hermione, may I introduce you to my Aunt Petunia Dursley, her husband Vernon and their son Dudley."
Morticia frowned slightly as she noticed what no one else seemed to. Harry had only claimed Petunia as family, not his uncle and cousin, and judging by the clothes the boy wore she could understand why. "I hope the boy isn't disturbing you," Vernon said as he narrowed his beady eyes at Harry. "You'll have to ignore anything he says, horrible liar, just horrible. We have to send him to Saint Brutus's Secure Center for Hopelessly Criminal boys."
"Did you hear that," Gomez said looking at Harry fondly, which seemed to dampen Vernon's mood considerably. "Pugsley, you have competition," the man whose mustache was infinitely smaller than Mr. Dursley's said cheerfully. "Why, together you two could really build up the collateral damage," he finished fondly.
Pugsley though wasn't listening, standing a few feet behind the growing crowd he had already fashioned a noose and was preparing to hang himself to escape the horror that was Camp Chippewa. Sadly, no one was paying attention; instead, Harry was glaring at his cousin whose beady blue eyes were eyeing up Hermione and Wednesday like pieces of meat. 'You can pick on me all you want, Dudders,' Harry thought, 'but try anything against these two and I'll make what I did to the Basilisk seem like a day at the park.'
Author's Note: Please review and let me know if you want this story to continue.