Darkness and Blood
Chapter 1
Darkness and Blood
Harry hated Ron. He should have known better. He cursed his name, wondering why he had trusted him.
He vomited the remains of one of the many chocolate frogs which he had devoured during the train ride. He has never had so many sweets in one go. Aunt Petunia took particular pleasure in keeping away anything that contained sugar away from him. But, after eating so much, he discovered that there was, unfortunately, a limit to gluttony.
He wondered how Dudley managed to do it. Probably years of practice? Perhaps for the first time in his life, he admired his cousin. To swallow so much candy in one go was an achievement, and Dudley had gone way beyond the magical sweets that he and Ron had bought from that old lady.
His thoughts were brutally put aside when nausea took over, and he was forced to puke again into a small sink in the train's bathroom.
He was breathing rapidly. His brain was almost ready to explode.
Damm you, Ron!
He looked at his reflection in the mirror on the wall. The boy who lived looked like a complete mess. His long hair was wet and splattered all over his forehead. It wasn't even his worst outlook compared to his visage and smell after one of the long punishments from the Dursleys. However, he expected that the staff at Hogwarts wouldn't allow him to enter the school in such attire and condition, so he needed to change and clean himself fast.
He exited the bathroom, but the train shaking made him lose balance and start falling head first toward the floor. For one moment, Harry was sure that he would crash into another fellow student. Still, she gracefully stepped back, allowing him to fall on the ground like a potato sack.
There was a loud crack, and Harry cursed himself. His glasses were cracked. For one brief moment, he thought somehow, he had entangled himself in a spider-web.
"That may be the poorest execution of a sneak attack I have ever witnessed." Commented a dry female voice from above.
"I didn't want to attack you. I just fell over." Harry tried to explain.
At that moment, he realized he needed to search for Hermione to fix his glasses. He didn't want to beg Granger if he didn't have to.
"Maybe if your eyesight was not so poor, you would have dealt collateral damage on others rather only on yourself." She mussed, and a tiny smirk spread on her face. "Your glasses are broken. Allow me to repair them."
"Thank you. Do you know…"
"If I miss and burn your eyes out, I will do my best to pretend that I am very remorseful for your sudden loss of sight." She added quickly.
"Wait…!" Harry panicked, but before he could protest, a bright light hit him, followed by a sharp clinking sound.
He let out a long breath and slowly opened his eyes. He was still seeing everything, and his face wasn't hurt, so everything was good so far.
He looked towards the source of the voice and saw a small black-haired girl with ashen skin, wearing dark and white school robes. She was welding a long pristine white wand, which looked as if did belong to some strange contrast painting rather than this reality. He blinked again. For a moment, he thought he was watching one of those old black-and-white movies on Dudley's TV.
"Your eyes are still there. What a pity." Stated the girl dryly.
Harry started to laugh uncontrollably. This is why he began to absolutely love the magical world. Everything was so strange compared to the ordinary simple life the Dursleys had always tried to live by. They did not hide their disdain for the freakish and abnormal; unfortunately, Harry was both. In the past few days, he was too shocked to acknowledge how liberating the feeling was to not be considered the outcast of the community. This girl just reminded him about the absurdity of this entire situation. He couldn't stop laughing about it. Maybe he needed to slap his face to check if he was dreaming.
"Interesting, it seems the spell had some interesting side effect." Said the girl in an excited tone.
"No, it did not. At least I think so… Excuse me." Harry tried his best to form a proper answer but failed nevertheless.
"What are you doing here anyway? Are you searching for that boy's frog like me or doing something useful with your limited time on this plane of existence?" Asked the girl with suspicion, her dark eyes observing him with mild interest.
"Neither, just suffering the consequences of eating so many magical sweets." He confessed with no small amount of shame.
"Such a horrific experience. It is a rarity to witness with your bare eyes the absolute terror that sugar and chocolates present. I should try it someday on my brother."
Her voice was cold and creepy, but somehow Harry's mind conjured an image of Dudley and his friends being chased by a massive chocolate frog. This time he managed to suppress his laugh. Nevertheless, he smirked at her comment.
"My name is Harry." He offered.
"Wednesday."
She answered.
"What?" Harry asked in confusion.
"My name is Wednesday. It is a reference to an old English poem - Wednesday's child is full of woe." She clarified with a barely noticeable amount of annoyance.
"It is certainly unique." Commented Harry leaving any other remarks unsaid. "Why are you searching for Neville's frog, by the way?"
"Trying to prove a point. That insufferable know-it-all sure knows how to irritate people and provide an interesting challenge."
"Let me guess, you met Hermione. How did she manage to anger you?"
"We did have a different theory on the supposed location of the amphibian, and she insisted that my proposition was stupid. I disagree. Accio."
Suddenly Wednesday made a quick notion with her wand, and then a loud quacking was heard right behind Harry. A large green toad flew towards her with such incredible speed that Wednesday barely managed to catch it.
“Ravi de faire votre connaissance.” She said triumphantly while grinning like a maniac.
"You are not going to eat it, right?" Asked Harry with no small amount of worry.
"I will never do something so despicable as killing someone's familiar" Her creepy smile died and was replaced by stone-cold anger.
It was something that was probably too close to her heart, Harry thought. Maybe she had lost a pet before? He could completely understand her. The notion of losing Hedwig was devastating even to think about. Still, the thought of somebody intentionally killing her evoked only pure fury.
"This was one amazing spell. Did you read about it from the spell books?" Asked Harry, changing the topic.
"Yes, in the one for students in their fourth year. It was actually pretty easy to master." So she stated, as a matter of fact, leaving Harry with his mouth open. "Anyways, I have a frog to deliver and a reputation for destroying, so I will be leaving you with the unpleasant company of the consequences of your gluttony."
And as soon as she said it, she left him without saying another word. For a few minutes, Harry felt as if he had awoken from a fantastical dream, but he knew that he never went to sleep.
This was going to be amazing…
Harry was standing in the empty chamber of the hall, crowded in with everyone else. They were all looking at each other nervously, not really knowing how the sorting was to go. He felt as if the entirety of his destiny would be decided in only a few short minutes.
Professor McGonagall had already explained to them that the house they were sorted into would be like their family whom they would consistently have classes.
He wondered whether he would be rejected by all of the houses and forced to back to the Dursleys or if his house would be Slytherin – the house that made Ron uncomfortable when he only mentioned its name.
McGonagall told them to smarten themselves before leaving the chamber to help with the ceremony and left the first years to panic. He could swear that he heard how someone's teeth were clattering, and after one terrifying moment, he realized that the wretched sound was coming from his mouth. With great effort, he managed to glue his upper and lower jaw together. The thought of returning back to the Dursleys terrified him.
"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" He asked Ron.
"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."
"Although I appreciate your brother's imagination, the entire process of sorting is more nefarious than feeling simple pain. It can be only described as medieval." The voice of Wednesday startled him. She was right behind him. "Ï await meeting your brothers, Ronald. They have a reputation which precedes them."
"It doesn't make them more popular with my mother." Commented Ron.
"How do you know what a sorting ceremony is?" Asked Hermione with suspicion.
"It is written in the publication "Hogwarts, A History." Quite an extensive read. The original manuscript should be located at the local library." Stated Wednesday, as a matter of fact, while Hermione's interest peeked up.
Harry smiled. The banter between them really made him feel better.
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. "Form a line," She ordered, "and follow me." She led them down the Great Hall, and Harry was beyond astounded.
It was the most beautiful place that he had ever entered. Floating candles were casting brilliant light on four great tables on which there were countless dishes and strange meals. It was so colorful that he needed to blink a few times to adjust to the light properly.
He saw a great long table at the top of the hall where the teachers sat. McGonagall placed a small wooden chair in front of it and took in one hand an extensive list and in the other a large old-fashioned hat made of leather.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward after the older students had given a round of applause for the hat. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she proclaimed loudly. "Abbot, Hannah!"
A blonde girl with two Pigtails stepped forwards. Harry thought she looked like the polar opposite of Wednesday. Her eyes were blue, and her cheeks were blushing. Instinctively he searched for Wednesday to make a complete comparison. However, what he saw scared him.
The small strange girl was shaking. Her eyes were closed shut, and her hands were twitching as if she was possessed.
The lights.
Harry thought she was scared of the colors. Everything made sense now, her clothes and even her barely noticeable makeup. It was all black or white. Harry had a former schoolmate that had a similar condition. Dudley and his band had once driven him to the ground in tears using only one flashlight and a small piece of rainbow-colored glass. He still regretted not helping that kid. It was a challenge for him to escape his cousin, but for other kids, it was impossible. So he immediately tried to reach her.
However, McGonagall's sharp voice rang again.
"Addams, Wednesday!"
Wednesday snapped out of her trance, and Harry's gaze followed her. Her steps were a far cry from the silent perfection that was usually her footwork. Her feet were shaking, and everybody wrote it off as another nervous first-year. Harry didn't.
"Addams? Did she say, Addams, like with double D?" Asked Ron with suspicion.
"I think so. Does it matter?"
"The Addams family is an ancient magical bloodline full of dark and violent history. There was even legislation passed in America prohibiting them from carrying wands because of their mental instability. So, I don't think so. Dumbledore wouldn't allow something like that to happen." Answered Hermione
"I think that I saw them at the train station. Her father and mother had an american accent, and they looked so strange, so maybe they were a real deal." Ron whispered worriedly.
His comment was cut short when a loud crack startled everyone in the hall. Harry immediately recognized it as the sudden release of accidental magic. This sound got him in trouble so many times with the Dursleys. He turned his gaze back to Wednesday. She was sitting on a chair with a strange hat on her head, fingers gripping the chair seat as if her life depended on it.
He could barely see it from his position, but he could spot how strains of blood were slowly falling down from her broken black nails.
"Bloody Merlin! Did you see this?" Ron whimpered.
Hermione, like most of the great hall, was deadly silent. If somebody still had doubts about her ancestry, there were erased entirely by this point. The hat stayed silent for a few more seconds. Wednesday's face twisted in pain, but her mouth formed a small, tortured smile.
"SLYTHERIN" Shouted the hat as if it was experiencing relief.
The loud applause from the Slytherin table suddenly broke the silence. The teachers were looking concerned, except for one pair of eyes that shined with interest.
Another name was called, and Wednesday left the chair. One terrified student stepped forward, but Harry didn't pay him attention. Instead, his eyes focused on Wednesday's hands. Darkness and blood.
Was everyone blind or just cruel, he wondered? But, of course, there was always someone to be branded as a freak and outcast…