Fencing & Friendship
Harry sat in the cafeteria, subtly watching his classmates while he ate his breakfast. It was how Harry always started his day, pretending to be involved with the groups of kids.
If Harry could grow claws and phase with the moon, he’d sit with Jace and Cody and laugh about… whatever they were laughing at. It was probably funny, they looked happy enough anyway.
If Harry had fangs, he’d sit with Yoko and Vanessa and sip blood from the posh golden tumblers they had and gossip about Eddie and Marcus as they snogged each other.
If a single look from Harry’s green eyes could turn a person to stone, he would sit with his roommate, Ajax, and his loud mates. They were throwing food at each other, laughing loudly and earning a few dirty looks from other students. Harry wouldn’t pay them any mind, he’d just be happy to be doing something with a group of friends.
If Harry could sing songs powerful enough to take over a person’s mind, he would wear a pendant and sit with Bianca, Kent, and Divina. They actually weren’t talking much, but Harry noticed that Xavier wasn’t sitting with them anymore, so that could be why.
There were others too, like Rowan and Eugene and Xavier, who sat by themselves as well. But they at least knew they were meant to be there. They weren’t called ‘basically a normie’, like Harry was.
Too outwardly freaky for normal people, too seemingly normal for the outcasts.
Harry sighed and took a bite of his biscuits morosely. Life had a habit of being terribly unfair sometimes.
All the time.
The table that Harry had sat at since starting Nevermore was always empty aside from him. Nobody ever sat with Harry, and he didn’t expect that to change any time soon.
Dr. Kinbott told Harry that he would make friends eventually, but Harry wasn’t so sure.
And it was that skepticism that caused Harry to jerk in surprise when someone suddenly took the seat directly across from Harry, Wednesday Addams.
Harry froze with a forkful of food on its way to his mouth, blinking slowly. Wednesday just stared at him with her dark eyes boring silently in to his.
“Hi,” Harry said, testing the greeting out. It was a single word, two letters, but it sounded peculiar when it came from Harry’s mouth, as most things did.
Perhaps Harry did have an obvious power, as Principal Weems thought he did. Making every interaction with another person as terribly awkward as possible had to be a supernatural ability.
Wednesday looked unimpressed with Harry’s greeting, but she had looked unimpressed every time Harry saw her, so he didn’t chastise himself too much.
“Why are you here?” Wednesday demanded abruptly. “You hardly seem to be a vampire, werewolf, or gorgon. Are you a psychic?”
Harry’s shoulders curled defensively. It wasn’t the first time one of his classmates asked him the same question - why are you here? do you have any abilities? so you’re just an imposter? - and it never hurt any less to be told how unwanted he was.
It was also usually easier to not answer, as nobody needed to know about Harry and his string of freaky events that led him to Nevermore—
“I believe, Mister Potter, that this will be a fitting academy for you.”
The man who arrived at the Juvenile Detention Center where Harry had been an inmate at spoke softly, but firmly. He was a specialist, supposedly. What he specialized in, Harry had no idea. But the old man looked over his half-moon spectacles and his blue eyes shone in a way that made Harry feel like he was disappointed with him, an odd feeling to get from a perfect stranger.
Harry grabbed the brochure that was handed to him and looked at the gothic style castle that proclaimed to be a school for outcasts and felt his eyes shamefully well up with tears.
All Harry had ever wanted, in primary school then St Brutus’ then even the detention center, was to fit in. But, perhaps, amongst outcasts, Harry could fit in.
“My relatives won’t pay, sir,” Harry told the man softly. He studied the man’s long white beard rather than his face, loathing the idea of being caught sniveling. “Are there scholarships?”
The man smiled then, his eyes twinkling, and patted Harry’s hand before rising to his feet.
“I will speak with your relatives, convince them of the merit of you attending Nevermore.” He winked at Harry then, leading Harry to believe that maybe he imagined the disappointed look from before. “Leave it to me, Mister Potter.”
“Good luck then,” Harry muttered petulantly, the brochure clenched in his hands. He’d give anything to leave the detention center, but the judge had sentenced Harry to four years and he hadn’t even done a year yet. The bearded man said the judge would release him early and then he apparently thought he’d convince the Dursleys to send Harry to some posh boarding school.
As if Uncle Vernon hadn’t cheered in the court room when Harry had been sentenced.
“Good luck to you, Harry,” the man said, his voice soft. “I am certain we will meet again one day. Until then, stay safe.”
Harry got his arse kicked that same night by some blokes on his block, but the bearded man had worked some sort of magic because Harry had been released the next morning. And a few days later, he arrived at Nevermore.
Where nothing really changed.
Wednesday was still watching Harry expectantly as he shook his head, trying to physically shake away his past. Harry had actually forgotten her question, but he figured it was one he didn’t want to answer anyway.
“Are you a vampire?” Harry asked her, trying to shift the attention of himself. Wednesday had a green apple sitting on the table in front of her, so Harry sort of doubted it, but she was pale enough for it.
Wednesday rolled her eyes. “While I enjoy blood as much as the next person, I prefer it on my hands, not my tongue.”
And since Harry had no idea how to respond to that, as he actually didn’t like blood at all, he merely hummed in acknowledgment.
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed slightly and her nostrils flared.
“Why are you here?” she asked, leaning across the table and staring him down uncomfortably. “If you refuse to tell me then I will be forced to resort to drastic, and possibly painful, measures.”
Harry gave her a sad and small smile before he grabbed his Latin textbook to prepare for his first class.
“I suppose you’ll have to get drastic,” Harry said. “Good luck.”
Harry hoped she had no luck. Wednesday was the first sort of friend he’d ever had. He knew if she found out about what Harry did that she’d stop talking to him.
And he was so bloody sick of being alone.
*****
Wednesday despised nothing more than she did the students at Nevermore, but research required her to branch out and attempt to infiltrate their confidences.
She began with Ajax, the gorgon boy who seemed to share a room with Harry, according to Enid.
Wednesday sat beside him in history, giving a nasty smirk at the boy who thought he would be sitting by his friend that day.
“Uh, hey?” Ajax said, staring at Wednesday’s forehead instead of her eyes. “Can I help you?”
“That remains to be seen,” Wednesday said curtly. “Tell me about your roommate and spare no detail.”
Wednesday would not rest until she solved the mystery of the pathetic looking normie boy being brainwashed to think of himself as an outcast. Harry was just so irritating. He reminded her of Pugsley, in a way, with the curve in his shoulders and the way he ducked his head anytime someone spoke directly to him.
And just as nobody aside from Wednesday was allowed to torture Pugsley, Wednesday would find out who put the shadows in Harry’s eyes and destroy them so creatively that it would be included in history books one day.
“You want to know about Potter?” Ajax snorted, a disgusting sound that caused Wednesday to clench her hand in a tight fist. Why must boys be the most vile species to roam the world?
“He’s a freak, dude,” Ajax said bluntly. He shrugged and propped an elbow on the desk, resting his chin in his hand with much too much ease. “He started this year and Weems stuck him in my room.”
“He’s quiet, why?” Wednesday asked him. Clearly she was going to have to pull answers from the moron one by one; preferably by force.
“Dunno,” Ajax said. “I tried to talk to him when he got here at the beginning of the year, be nice, you know? But everything he says is so freaking weird.”
Wednesday turned to the front when the teacher called for attention, but she also snatched her switchblade from its holster on her ankle and swiftly jabbed it in Ajax’s thigh, causing the boy to scream.
“Insult him again and it will be the last thing you do,” Wednesday hissed. She kept a bored mask over her face, only letting Ajax see the flash of fury in her eyes as the teacher rushed to see why his student was screaming.
Nevermore Academy may be unaware of it, but Wednesday would show them all quite quickly that Harry Potter was under her protection.
At least until she solved the mystery surrounding him.
When Wednesday arrived at her only elective, fencing, she was mildly pleased to see Harry was in that class. And by mildly pleased, she meant she was slightly less angry than usual.
“Partner with me,” Wednesday ordered Harry when they went to select foils at the same time.
Harry, who was Wednesday’s opposite as his eyes seemed to radiate emotion, appeared to be surprised and thrilled with her request. Wednesday was quite certain that she had made it incredibly clear that they were kindred spirits, so his surprise was unwarranted.
“Okay,” Harry said with a pink cheeked grin. As far as teenage boys went, he was slightly less vile in appearance than the majority. His skin was an acceptable shade of pale, and with his dark hair, he could pass for an Addams without any fuss. The only splash of color on his face were his pink cheeks and large green eyes hidden behind round black glasses.
“I will refrain from injuring you,” Wednesday said when Harry went to pull on an epee mask.
A small smirk, a slight impish glitter in his eyes, and another “okay” before Harry moved in position.
Wednesday made the first move and Harry caught her off guard when he blocked easily. A fluke, certainly. Wednesday lunged again, Harry blocked.
“I will refrain from hurting you,” Harry said. He sounded nearly playful, an irksome shift in tone from his typical evasiveness and shyness.
Wednesday grit her teeth together and they began parrying in earnest. Gomez Addams taught Wednesday to fence when she was still crawling, she would not be beaten by this boy.
After a few more defensive moves, Harry went on the attack and it was suddenly Wednesday who had to block quickly or risk losing. Harry was quick, fierce; a worthy opponent.
It took Wednesday much longer than she would ever admit, but she did eventually pin Harry into conceding victory to her.
“You’re bloody good,” Harry said. He pulled his mask off and smiled at her with his dark hair plastered to his forehead. Wednesday had never seen him smile before, it was vindicating to see it then.
“My father is better,” Wednesday informed him. “You will need to drink water, to replenish your body.”
It was common sense, so Harry’s look of confusion was another annoyance. Did this school lack teaching even the most basic of health?
Wednesday stalked to the water jug and filled two cups with water before returning to Harry and thrusting them at him.
“Drink,” she ordered him.
Harry’s cheeks were back to a pink shade when he accepted both paper cups.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
Wednesday rolled her eyes. Even if Harry was the more interesting mystery in the school, he was still just as annoying as every other warm blooded human on earth.
Though the mystery of who Harry Potter was an how he became a co-prisoner at Nevermore Academy lessened some that evening when Wednesday retired to her room.
“There’s a hand on your bed with someone’s school record,” Enid said airily from her bed. She had music playing and was painting her nails a rotating pattern of pink, purple, and blue.
“His name is Thing,” Wednesday sniffed, offended on Thing’s behalf.
Enid smirked at her with glossy red lips. “I know, he told me. He’s much friendlier than you are.”
“So are Nile crocodiles,” Wednesday said drily. She nodded approvingly at Thing when he handed her the folder. Perhaps her parents’ attempts to spy on her would continue to work in her favor if Thing continued to prove himself worthy.
The name on the outside of the folder stated ‘Potter, Harry’ in bold letters and Wednesday sat down at her desk to begin reading through the packet of information.
Interesting…
*****
Harry was in an excellent mood by the time he made it to his room that night. His face even ached a little bit from the unfamiliar smile he had worn since fencing.
Ajax wasn’t back yet, so Harry turned on the radio to a moderate level and pulled out the journal that Dr. Kinbott gave him to use. It had a lot of similar entries in it before then, but Harry finally had something new to write.
Today I made a friend…