Dramatics & Declarations
“Harry!”
Harry stopped in the back courtyard and turned his head when someone yelled his name. A smile spread unconsciously across his face when he saw Wednesday stalking toward him. She looked as prim as usual, in her black blazer and her neatly braided hair. She wasn’t smiling, but Harry liked to imagine that she looked less angry than she typically did.
“Hi,” Harry said happily when she caught up to him. He flapped an awkward hand toward the building the cafeteria was in. “I was going to dinner, do you want to come?”
It was peculiar, but brilliant, to have a friend to invite to things. Wednesday didn’t say they were friends, and he hadn’t seen her at breakfast that morning, but Harry was pretty sure they were friends anyway. She had seemed to like him yesterday when they were fencing together and she made him drink water.
“Not yet,” Wednesday said in her posh and brisk manner. “First, I want to know why you were convicted of murder.”
Every muscle in Harry’s body froze, including his lungs. He stared at Wednesday in shock. Sure, kids speculated about Harry’s past, but Wednesday had a knowing glint in her eyes that told him she knew quite a bit more than just schoolyard gossip.
“I… I…” Harry stuttered while he tried to make his throat work once more. Why would Wednesday do that? Why would she pretend to be his friend if she just planned on digging up information on him and making him feel as isolated as he always had been?
That didn’t seem like friendship, so clearly Harry was a moron who misunderstood the whole situation.
“Tell me why,” Wednesday demanded when Harry had nothing to say. “Now.”
Harry shook his head, hurt and bewildered. He opened his mouth to tell Wednesday to just leave him alone, but a sudden shout caused Wednesday to turn her head around back toward the dormitory building. Harry didn’t look toward the shout, he was still reeling from Wednesday’s knowledge, so he was knocked off kilter when Wednesday looked up to the sky and then suddenly tackled Harry.
Then Harry was just knocked on his arse just before a giant stone gargoyle came crash to the ground right where Harry had been standing.
Wednesday gasped when a chunk of the gargoyle bounced from the ground and struck Harry in the head.
And then Harry closed his eyes and was just knocked out.
“It’s time to wake up, now.”
Harry groaned and shifted on an unfamiliar bed, his head throbbing painfully.
“I said WAKE UP.”
Harry’s eyes snapped open and he yelped at the sight in front of him. There was a pale face, paler than usual, with wide dark eyes framed by thick black lashes.
Wednesday, his mind helpfully reminded him. Then he remembered his recent conversation with her, crashing stone gargoyles aside, and he jerked his chin to the side, looking away from her.
“Someone tried to kill us,” Wednesday said. Harry heard as she shifted to sit on the edge of the white bed he was in - in the nurses office, he thought. He’d been there once, when he first started, after someone tripped him and Harry sprained his wrist falling down the staircase.
Harry lifted his hand to touch his forehead, feeling for where the concrete had hit him. He hoped it hadn’t been over his lightning bolt scar, he rather liked it. Before Harry could make contact with the bandage on his forehead, Wednesday slapped his hand.
“Don’t touch it,” she scolded him, “you’ll get an infection. Now focus, we have to figure out who was trying to kill us. I think we can cross Xavier off the list, since he was the one who warned me in time.”
Harry’s head spun while Wednesday began talking quickly, clearly passionate about the subject, about suspects and sinister plots and how they should stick together with a killer on the loose.
“Wait,” Harry interrupted when Wednesday was debating on if Enid, a cheerful werewolf girl, had tried to kill her to get her single room back. Wednesday turned to Harry and raised her brows slightly.
“Are we… you’re not…” Harry’s forehead crinkled as he furrowed his brows down in confusion. “Are we still friends?” he asked. He hadn’t hit his head that hard, he was sure that Wednesday had discovered Harry’s past that led him to Nevermore.
Surely she wouldn’t want to be friends anymore if so.
Surprisingly, Wednesday’s lips curled up on one side in what was very nearly a smile.
“Oh, Harry, if you believe that a little homicide is going to scare me away, then you don’t know me very well yet,” Wednesday told him. She leaned forward, her face directly in front of Harry’s. “Was it an accident?” she whispered.
Harry nodded just as quickly as his heart was racing. “Yeah,” he breathed.
A lie.
“Pity.” Wednesday leaned back and studied him carefully. “As soon as I master the art of necromancy I will be reviving your first victim and killing him again. You did well, but I think you could have been more creative. Don’t worry,” Wednesday patted Harry’s upper arm briefly, “I’ll teach you everything I know.”
Harry was confused about Wednesday’s enthusiasm for murder, but he still grinned despite the headache and confusion.
She didn’t think he was a freak or a monster, she still liked him. They really were friends.
*****
Wednesday spent the rest of her week sticking beside Harry like brain matter stuck to hair.
They attended meals together, three a day, since apparently Harry believed himself to be above requiring human sustenance. Wednesday had shuffled her classes around, explaining to Thornhill that she required a tutor to become more aquatinted with classes she could ace in her sleep, until she had the same schedule as Harry.
It was a private delight when Wednesday accompanied Harry to music and discovered he had a talent for piano. They made a compatible duo as Wednesday played the cello and Harry on the piano.
Harry was also, as Wednesday discovered one night when she snuck him in her room, an aspiring writer. He had a leather bound notebook that he told her he wrote in every day.
“Sometimes I write about my day, sometimes I write poems,” Harry said with a bashful blush on his cheeks.
Wednesday sat at her desk and stared at him expectantly until he sighed and opened his notebook, shoving it to her.
“I’m not bloody reading it out loud,” Harry mumbled with a suspicious look toward where Enid was typing away at her computer. It was right of Harry to be suspicious of Enid, anyone that cheerful who wore such a variety of color could never be trusted.
Wednesday read the short poem on the page, nodding in approval when she returned the notebook to him.
“You have a dark soul,” she told him knowledgeably. “You could be the next William Blake.”
“I don’t know who that is,” Harry said. He sat on the foot of Wednesday’s bed, pulling a pen from his pocket and flipping his notebook to a fresh page.
“Famous poet, very morbid,” Enid quipped from her desk. She spun in her chair and smiled at them. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I supposed to be pretending not to hear the conversation happening ten feet from me?”
“Yes,” Wednesday told her. “Hush now, we’re writing.”
It was… oddly companionable silence after that. Harry wrote his poems while Wednesday worked on her novel and Enid typed for her tedious and vapid blog.
When Harry retired to Apollo Hall, Wednesday sent Thing to watch over him. If someone was attempting to kill Harry, then Wednesday planned on watching every person who interacted with him like a hawk.
Perhaps it was a stroke of luck that Harry hardly interacted with anyone aside from herself.
“Why do you dislike your peers?” Wednesday asked Harry as they walked together to Jericho for their weekly torture session with Kinbott. It was Wednesday’s second session, if the first could be counted, and Harry’s dozenth since starting Nevermore. Weems had given them permission to walk to town together, apparently she trusted Harry implicitly.
An interesting idea as Harry seemed to be a magnet for danger and intrigue.
Harry glanced over at Wednesday, his dark hair smushed down on his forehead by the ridiculous forest green stocking cap he wore. It was chilly, but Wednesday would prefer to be cold than wear something so brightly colored. It covered the lightning bolt scar he had that his record claimed to come from a car accident that killed his parents, leaving Harry an orphan.
He hadn’t seemed to appreciate it when Wednesday informed him that the most interesting people were orphans.
“I don’t,” Harry told her. He shrugged his shoulders up and turned, causing Wednesday to follow him as he apparently knew the path to town by heart.
“You don’t speak to them,” Wednesday pointed out. “Why?”
Harry huffed, and it sounded bitter, a noise Wednesday would recognize anywhere. Further proof of their similarities.
“They don’t talk to me,” Harry corrected her. “I- I wanted to be friends, at first,” he glanced at her and his eyes were like sad little green crystal balls. An odd analogy, but apt all the same. “Then they thought I was a freak, so I just… gave up.”
Wednesday sniffed as they approached the brick building where she personally believed that being drawn and quartered would be more comfortable than listening to Kinbott babble on about her psyche and relationship with her mother.
“Just so you’re aware, you’re much better than those simpletons,” Wednesday assured Harry. She rolled her eyes at his responding crinkly eyed smile. “Go,” she held the door open for Harry, “let’s get this over with, shall we?”
“You don’t like Doctor Kinbott?” Harry asked her as he turned and edged through the doorway, ducking his head and yanking his hat off on entry. Wednesday tsk’d at his messy hair, exasperated by his adolescence awkwardness.
“The title of doctor is subject to scrutiny,” Wednesday told him quietly as they approached the secretary desk to sign in. “And no, I prefer to not waste my time with trivial matters such as ‘feelings’,” she scoffed. “Especially not when we have much more important mysteries to resolve.”
Harry shrugged again and scribbled his name down. “I like her,” he said simply. He offered Wednesday the pen and a small smile. “Maybe you just have to get to know her. She might grow on you.”
“Like mold on a carcass,” Wednesday quipped. She obediently wrote her name beneath Harry’s and silently wished him luck as he was called to the office.
Just because Harry enjoyed nattering away with Kinbott every week did not mean that Wednesday would. The woman was a sadist, something Wednesday could appreciate when the sadism wasn’t being utilized against her.
Harry eventually breezed past Wednesday after his session ended. He had a small pep in his step, too much cheer for Wednesday to properly swallow, and told Wednesday he’d wait for her at the coffee shop.
“You would leave me to be tortured alone?” Wednesday asked, impressed by his cruel decision.
Harry grinned, a crooked slash across his face. “I told her I think you’re brilliant, so maybe it won’t be so bad.”
“Or maybe it will be worse now,” Wednesday hissed darkly, truly betrayed. “If I’m not there in an hour, avenge my death.”
Harry nodded then ducked his head back down and left the building, jogging quickly toward the coffee shop.
Betrayal always stung, yet Wednesday was proud of Harry for the fire it took to betray her. He was too meek for such a cold-blooded killer, Wednesday hoped he would truly grow to fit his own legend soon.
*****
Harry had thought ahead and pulled enough money from his account to purchase himself a warm drink and cookie while he waited for Wednesday to have her session. He also got enough for Wednesday, in case she wanted something to drink or eat afterward.
Ten dollars was a small price to pay for spending time with Harry’s first ever friend.
Harry had been ecstatic to tell Dr. Kinbott all about Wednesday Addams. She’d seemed skeptical about Wednesday liking Harry, which Harry thought was rather unfair. Wednesday was one of the most honest people Harry had ever met. She always said what she was thinking and didn’t care what anyone thought about it.
Harry was secretly jealous, but as Dr. Kinbott reminded him, it was Harry who had been taught to bottle every thought and emotion inside himself at St Brutus’ and his relatives house before that. It was difficult to unlearn all the things that had been beaten into him, but Harry was determined to have a happier future than his past had been.
And he’d start small, try and follow the homework he’d been given by his therapist. Holding eye contact when talking to people didn’t seem so hard, even if it made Harry’s stomach flutter with nerves that he would be disrespectful for doing it.
Disrespect got the cane, or worse, but Harry wasn’t at St Brutus’ anymore.
Those nerves were quivering in full effect when Harry met the eyes of the barista, Tyler. Tyler smiled when Harry approached the counter, his stormy blue eyes warm and open.
“Harry, right?” he said. “I didn’t know if I’d see you again.”
“I go to therapy across the street every week,” Harry blurted, his mouth working before his brain did. As soon as he said it, he dropped his eyes to his trainers and wanted to smack himself. What an embarrassing thing to blurt out.
Tyler seemed nonplussed by Harry’s admission. Harry heard a quiet chuckle and he lifted his head enough to glance through his lashes at the other boy.
“Doctor Kinbott?” Tyler asked. “Yeah, I see her every week too. I guess we’re paying her bills.”
“Yeah?” Harry tested out the eye contact again and felt a thrill go through him when Tyler’s eyes still looked warm. “Er… I’ve never had coffee before, what’s- what’s good?”
“Hmm…” Tyler tapped his chin and grinned. “How about a vanilla latte? It’s pretty popular, and sweet too.”
“Okay.” Harry used his newly found smile on Tyler and handed over enough for a latte and one of the iced cookies in the glass case. Tyler said he’d bring it to him once his drink was finished, so Harry moved to sit in the same booth he’d taken last week.
He couldn’t believe how much had changed in just a week. Sure, Wednesday thought someone was trying to kill them, but they’d also spent so much time together and Harry was still on cloud nine over it. And they had so much in common! They both liked to play music and write and fence! Harry had even gotten to meet Wednesday’s friend Thing and her roommate Enid, who was much friendlier to Harry now that he was friends with Wednesday.
Harry hadn’t expected to ever enjoy Nevermore, he thought he would just have to suffer through the school years until he graduated, but Harry was probably happier in the last week than he’d been in years.
And it was all thanks to Wednesday, who would probably punch Harry if he told her that she made him happy.
“You look… different,” Tyler mused when he brought Harry his order.
“Do I?” Harry asked. He felt the nerves in his stomach return full force when Tyler slid in the booth across from Harry, just as he had last week. It was odd to feel nervous, Harry never felt that way when he sat with Wednesday.
“Yeah, I dunno, you just look excited about something,” Tyler said. He propped his elbows on the table and gave Harry a wry smile. “Did you meet someone?”
Harry hummed when he tried a sip of the latte, it was actually good. It was warm, tasted like caramel, and Harry liked the feeling of the sweetness coursing through his veins.
“Yeah, Wednesday Addams,” Harry said idly. “This is brilliant, thank you.”
Even if Harry and his therapist thought that Harry was making great steps toward socializing, clearly Harry didn’t have the hang of it yet. He’d thanked Tyler, grateful for his delicious recommendation, so the sudden frown on Tyler’s lips and the pucker between his brows made no sense. Not to Harry anyway, but most things usually didn’t.
“The goth girl who wanted to run away?” Tyler asked, his face falling more when Harry nodded in confirmation. “Oh, I didn’t know you two were a thing. It didn’t seem like it before.”
Harry frowned as well, disappointed in himself that he’d managed to make Tyler’s crooked smile disappear. He was rubbish at talking to people, it was easier with Wednesday who never really looked too happy or sad.
“Er… she’s my friend,” Harry said slowly. “We weren’t really friends last week, but we are now.”
“Friends?” Tyler suddenly perked back up. Harry couldn’t keep up with his mood swings, it was definitely easier to have a friend who always looked bored or curious.
“I thought you meant you two were dating,” Tyler laughed, grinning once again.
“Oh,” Harry blushed. Even he knew better than to admit that he’d never dated anyone before, never even considered it. Friends were hard enough to find, someone to hold hands with and snog were an entirely different world. Maybe one day Harry would find something like that, in the future when he was a whole new person, but that wasn’t in the cards any time soon, he suspected.
And… and he kind of doubted that Wednesday would be someone he’d want to snog anyway. She was brilliant, wicked awesome, but… but Harry didn’t really want to snog her. It was kind of gross to even think about.
“We aren’t dating,” Harry said firmly. “We’re just friends.”
“Good.” Tyler’s eyes sparkled a little bit, apparently happy that Harry and Wednesday were friends. Which was good, because Harry was also happy.
“So you’re free to go with me to the Harvest Festival this weekend?” Tyler asked him. “I think it’s mandatory for Nevermore students, I always see them there anyway.”
Harry tried to puzzle through Tyler’s question. Harry was free to go to the Harvest Festival, it truly was mandatory, but… Harry bit his lip… were they going to be friends as well? Is that why Tyler wanted to go together? What did going together even mean? Just meeting up there and walking around together?
Wednesday would probably know. She was a genius.
“I am free this weekend,” Harry said slowly. He’d been free for months, really. Free from his relatives until May, free from the detention center ever since the old man got him released, and free from St Brutus’ ever since he’d been arrested and expelled. So, yes, Harry was free.
One day he’d be free to do anything he wanted.
“Soo you’ll go with me?” Tyler asked.
“Er… alright,” Harry agreed, bemused.
“Awesome.” Tyler smiled widely and then slid out of the booth. “I’ve got to grab the pastries from the oven, they’re probably burnt by now. You have a cell phone?”
Harry shook his head, his hair shuffling back in his face as he did.
“No worries, I’ll meet you at the ticket booth,” Tyler said, apparently easy to please. “Six o’clock on Saturday?”
Harry agreed and then watched curiously as Tyler made his way back to the kitchen behind the counter, whistling as he walked.
That was strange.
“Harry, you oblivious idiot,” Wednesday huffed. The two of them were making their way back to Nevermore, both with a paper cup filled with more of the latte Harry had drank at the coffee shop (‘on the house,’ Tyler had said). Harry took a bite of the cookie Wednesday had turned down, enjoying the sugar buzz he was riding on.
“He asked you on a date,” Wednesday said, promptly making Harry choke on his treat.
“No he didn’t,” Harry said after coughing and sputtering. His face was burning, a side effect of choking probably. “I think he wants to be friends, like we are.”
Wednesday rolled her eyes. “We are not ‘friends’, Harry, we are kindred spirits destined to have our paths intertwine.”
Harry didn’t know the definition of friendship, but that sounded close enough for him. Wednesday was probably just cranky after spending her entire hour at Dr. Kinbott’s office.
“Well maybe I have two friends now,” Harry told her. He tried to use a bit of the honesty that Wednesday always did and smiled shyly at his first true friend. “I’ve been happier spending time with you this week than ever in my life.”
Wednesday curled her upper lip up and gave Harry a baleful look.
“Don’t get emotional on me now,” she warned him. “There’s no need for dramatic declarations and disgusting monologues.”
Harry nodded apologetically and looked down at the ground. Why Wednesday made everything sound important and Harry made everything sound stupid, he’d never understand.
Wednesday huffed again and Harry lifted his head a little bit when she linked her arm in his.
“If you ever tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, I will rip your intestines through your nose and decorate my bedroom with them,” Wednesday said, causing Harry to laugh quietly. “But I am fond of you.”
Harry played with those words while they walked together in silence for a few blocks. Fond was a way of saying you liked someone, which meant that Harry somehow made Wednesday a little happier too.
“I don’t think Enid would like my intestines hanging up in your room,” Harry pointed out as they neared their school campus. “They’re not really bright enough.”
Wednesday didn’t laugh, but her eyes did the little glittering thing they did when she was amused, so Harry was patting himself on the back all the same.