Crypts & Kinbott
“This is like the spookiest date I’ve ever been on…”
Wednesday glared at Enid. The two of them were walking through the forest to find Crackstone’s crypt. Just because Wednesday could grudgingly admit that it was an excellent idea on Enid’s part for them to investigate the crypt did not mean that Wednesday would tolerate her juvenile jokes.
“This is not a date,” Wednesday told her hotly. “This is an investigation.”
Enid laughed and the moonlight reflected through the trees just enough to illuminate Enid’s nearly perfectly even smile. She had two teeth that ended in a point rather than fall in place with the others; aptly named her canine teeth.
“It’s sort of a date,” Enid said. Apparently she had something lodged in her eye, because she began fluttering her lashes quickly to dispel it. “Just the two of us… all alone… in these, uh… romantic woods…”
Wednesday barely refrained from throttling Enid with her pink and purple knitted scarf.
“The forest is not romantic, it is a place of murder and blood, mysteries and mayhem…” Wednesday paused for a moment and tilted her head as she considered it. “I suppose it is rather classically romantic, actually.”
It could be a scene for the protagonist in Wednesday’s novel to meet the antagonist, Wednesday made a mental note to explore the option later.
“See?” Enid said with a sly smile. “Romantic.”
Wednesday rolled her eyes when Enid scooted closer to her while they walked. She knew she should have left Enid behind and brought Harry instead. She allowed Enid to manipulate her with a reminder of Harry’s dislike of being out of school past curfew and managed to insert herself by Wednesday’s side when it was time to sneak out.
“Here it is,” Wednesday said. Her flashlight beam reflected on a grey stone building, ostentatious with the ornate decor for the crypt of a bigot and hypocrite. The entrance was a large black wooden door, one that appeared to have been opened recently.
Perhaps Wednesday wasn’t the only one investigating Crackstone.
“Oh… this is actually super creepy,” Enid said, her bubbly voice echoing loudly around them. She stared at the crypt and Wednesday could see her gnawing on her lower lip. “Maybe we should just, like… not go in?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Wednesday told her curtly. “We came all this way. I just need to see if anything triggers a vision.”
“After you then,” Enid said. She stepped to the side and gestured for Wednesday to enter the crypt ahead of her.
Wednesday felt a thrill of excitement rush through her - the adrenaline of a new discovery to be made - when she slowly pushed open the door to the crypt.
A sudden shout made Wednesday instinctively reach for her knife, but it wasn’t an enemy, it was her idiotic classmates screaming.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
*****
Harry held up Wednesday’s birthday cake with a smile while everyone else began singing to her.
It wasn’t easy to trick Wednesday Addams, but they did it.
Well, Enid did it, really, but Harry, Xavier, and Tyler had gotten the cake, cupcakes, and gifts, so it wasn’t like they were useless. Xavier had even thought to get balloons to decorate the inside of the crypt with, all black ones to match the ‘theme’.
Tyler thought it was morbid to put cupcakes on top of the smooth dark marble tomb that held Crackstone’s body, but Harry found it fitting.
Wednesday, at least, would see the humor in a wizard (because apparently Harry wasn’t a ‘witch’) using Crackstone’s tomb like a table. Anything that would make the man who killed people like Harry angry only made Harry privately amused.
Except, Wednesday didn’t look amused at all. Her lips thinned while everyone sang and Harry suddenly worried that their efforts to plan a party had gone horribly wrong.
Everyone liked parties though, Harry thought. People standing around and caring that you survived to add another tally mark to your age? It was meant to be brilliant, Harry was sure of it.
Dr. Kinbott thought Harry was ‘projecting’, but Harry had brushed her off. Dr. Kinbott was great, smart and full of helpful advice and praise that Harry worked hard to earn, but she wasn’t infallible.
“Do you think Wednesday would like a party with her friends or do you think that’s what you would like?”
Harry frowned and twisted his fingers together in his lap. “Both,” he guessed randomly. He’d never asked Wednesday how she wanted her birthday to be celebrated, but if he did it then Wednesday would be suspicious and their surprise party would be ruined.
And then Enid would probably dig her claws down Harry’s face and one scar was enough.
“Try not to be disappointed if Wednesday doesn’t enjoy the night as much as you would,” Dr. Kinbott told Harry gently. “Different people enjoy celebrating different ways.”
Harry had wanted to ask her how she liked celebrating her birthday, but he didn’t.
And Harry tried not to be disappointed when the song ended and Wednesday still didn’t have a single glimmer of happiness in her eyes, but he still was.
“You’re supposed to blow out the candle,” Xavier told Wednesday, pointing to the single black candle on the black iced cake.
Tyler had brought a little grim reaper statue to place on top of it and Enid had sort of ruined the decorations with the addition of a pink balloon, but she also wrote ‘Happy Birthday Wednesday’ in neat white icing, so it still looked okay to Harry.
Wednesday looked like she wasn’t going to blow out the candle, then her eyes flicked toward where Harry was biting his lower lip anxiously, worrying they’d ruined her birthday, and she quickly blew out a huff of breath, extinguishing the candle.
“Happy birthday,” Harry said with a hopeful grin. “Did we surprise you?”
“You did,” Wednesday said. Her sharp eyes roamed around the crypt, lingering on the decorations and treats on top of Crackstone’s tomb. Harry knew they made the right choice when a slight gleam of amusement briefly lit Wednesday’s eyes.
Maybe she was right, maybe they were kindred spirits.
Enid cheered at Wednesday’s admission and immediately snagged her gift bag to thrust at Wednesday.
“Tyler can help Harry cut cake, you open this!” Enid said eagerly, clearly giving Harry his orders.
Tyler raised his brows at Harry, but Harry only shrugged and moved to set the cake down on the tomb so it could be cut.
“Is Enid always so bossy?” Tyler whispered to Harry while he expertly sliced the cake and Harry handed him plates.
“She didn’t used to be,” Xavier laughed quietly, choosing to join the boys rather than watch Wednesday open Enid’s gift. “Wednesday has a knack for drawing people out of their shells, apparently.”
“That’s true,” Harry agreed quietly. “Rowan never talked to me before then he met Wednesday and tried to kill me.”
Xavier looked taken aback for a moment then he slowly laughed and held out his fist. It took Harry a second to realize what he was waiting for and Harry tried not to burst with joy when he lightly hit his fist against Xavier’s.
“I killed a guy.”
Xavier froze on the sidewalk, his eyebrows flying high on his forehead. Harry cursed himself for admitting it, for saying the words, but there was a sense of freedom in it too.
And freedom, above anything, was what was most important.
“I killed him,” Harry repeated, tasting the words again, playing with them in his mind. He wasn’t allowed to speak during his trial, his court appointed attorney had ‘strongly advised against it’ so Harry merely sat and listened to others testify about his prior behavior and how he’d been found in the closet holding a bloody knife with Guard Hamilton dead on the floor.
“You killed someone? For real?” Xavier asked. His face had paled and Harry belatedly realized the awed voice he used to say those words wasn’t really appropriate.
But it was a fact. Harry took Guard Hamilton’s life and before him he took Abraham’s, before him was Chase, and it all started with Piers.
Wednesday was disturbed by the monster’s murders, but Harry suddenly realized that he had taken more lives than the monster had. The monster had killed four, if Sirius survived. Harry had technically killed five, now that Rowan’s death had been confirmed.
Harry swallowed harshly and lost the battle to hold Xavier’s shocked eyes. He nodded down at his shoes, silently confirming it.
He killed someone. Five people lost their lives for the crime of crossing paths with Harry.
The wind blew harshly, ruffling Harry’s hair, causing them both to shiver. It felt tense, waiting for Xavier to run or scoff, scream or strike out.
Harry didn’t expect Xavier’s quiet question.
“Was it like self defense?”
“Yes,” Harry said immediately- truthfully. He looked up and managed to hold Xavier’s eyes while he finally got a chance to share what he would have in court if he’d been given the chance. “It was him or me.”
Xavier’s face flooded with relief and color once more.
“Screw that guy then,” he said firmly. “I’m glad he’s dead.”
Harry was too. He was happier though while they walked and Xavier began talking about his art, his visions, and his life.
Harry killed that man and got to live.
Harry killed that man and got to be free.
Screw him.
*****
Wednesday despised her birthday. It was another year closer to the peaceful flames of death, which was a delight, but it was also a day where others thrived in misplaced shows of affection.
All day Wednesday had believed she had escaped the disgusting ritual only to be unpleasantly surprised by a party.
If it hadn’t been for the ridiculous amount of meek hope in Harry’s all too easy to read eyes, Wednesday would have stormed away immediately. Instead, she was stuck opening a gift from Enid while Harry, Xavier, and Tyler sat on Crackstone’s tomb and ate slices of cake.
It was amusing, truly, to see the tomb of the bigot disrespected so thoroughly.
“Do you love it?” Enid asked when Wednesday pulled her gift from the glittering blue bag it had been in. Wednesday held up a lump of black yarn and attempted to decipher its use.
“What is it?” she finally asked when she had to accept defeat.
“It’s a snood, silly!” Enid said with a smile. “I’ve got a matching one!”
Wednesday looked past Enid to see Harry sitting between Tyler and Xavier. He grinned when she looked at him and mouthed the word ‘snood’.
“What is a snood?” Wednesday asked Enid. She turned the ‘snood’ around slowly.
“Here, let me show you.” Enid reached over and took the snood from Wednesday, letting their fingers brush in a way that wasn’t entirely distasteful. Enid pulled the snood over Wednesday’s head, letting it lay on her as a partial hood and partial scarf.
“See?” Enid said after arranging it just so. “We can wear them to class or when you’re walking to town, to stay warm.”
Wednesday would sooner freeze.
“I see,” she said with as much diplomacy as she could muster. Wednesday pulled the snood off and handed it over her shoulder to Thing, allowing him to tuck it in her bag.
It was good for Thing to be as helpful as possible in the moment, it was the only way his life would be spared when they returned to the dorm and Wednesday showed him how furious she was that he shared her date of birth with Enid.
An unforgivable betrayal.
“My turn,” Harry said abruptly. He jumped down from the tomb and snatched a silver wrapped package from the ground and brought it to Wednesday with a shy smile.
Wednesday worked hard to unclench her jaw. “Thank you,” she said tightly.
Harry shook the package in a way he doubtlessly found to be enticing. “You haven’t opened it yet,” he told her.
Wednesday snatched the package irritably and opened the wrapping. It was Harry’s fault she was having to stand there and participate in the charade instead of exploring the crypt for clues as she had wanted.
“Oh.” Wednesday looked down at the gift in surprise. “‘Les Fleurs Du Mal’, by Charles Baudelaire,” she read the title.
“The flowers of evil, right?” Harry asked, a childlike excitement to his voice. “The shopkeeper said it was his most famous book, and look!” Harry eagerly flipped open the cover and pointed at a penned autograph, “He signed it!”
Wednesday desperately hoped that Harry hadn’t paid a small fortune for the book, as the signature was an obvious forgery, but regardless, it would be a pleasure to read.
“Thank you,” Wednesday said, forcing herself to sound more neutral than usual. “Baudelaire was a genius ahead of his time.”
Much like Wednesday herself.
“We should have made Harry go last, now ours look lame,” Xavier scoffed. He snatched a bag from the ground and tossed it over Harry’s head to Wednesday. “Happy birthday, Wednesday.”
Wednesday expressed gratitude once, to Harry, she would hardly do it twice.
“The gift card is from me,” Tyler said carelessly when Wednesday pulled a sketchbook and charcoal pencils from the bag. Taped to the front of the book was a gift card to the Weathervane.
A gift card for coffee from the barista, a true shock.
“And now cake!” Enid said. She held up a slice of chocolate cake and a black iced cupcake. “Which do you want?” she asked Wednesday.
“Neither,” Wednesday told her flatly. Now that her obligatory participation had been completed, the crypt was open to be explored.
It was large, spacious, and echoed in a comfortingly eerie way. In the center was Crackstone’s tomb, which Wednesday avoided for the moment lest she be guilted into participating in ‘celebrations’ any more. Instead, Wednesday walked the walls of the crypt and judged it to be precisely 15’x15’ and the walls were all engraved with Latin scriptures.
It was as if the past wanted Wednesday to find it- it reached out for her, longing to show her it’s secrets. When Wednesday obliged, lightly tracing her finger across a scripture, it grabbed ahold of her and pulled.
Wednesday woke in her vision laying flat on the ground. The earth was damp and when Wednesday stood, she saw she had been laying on blood soaked dirt.
“You seek answers.”
Wednesday looked over and saw Goody Addams staring at her with eyes too wide to truly be a match for Wednesday’s own.
“And I plan on finding them,” Wednesday said. “Will you give them to me?”
“No.” Goody turned her head and looked straight ahead at a set of ornate black metal gates. “You must find your own answers.”
“Here?” Wednesday asked, looking the gates over carefully. She didn’t recognize them, but surely someone would recognize the twisted tree limbs that made up the top of the gates. “Are my answers here?”
Goody twisted around to face Wednesday full on, her pale face shining with intensity.
“Be careful on your journey, Wednesday Addams,” she whispered. “Not all friends are trustworthy and not all foes are your enemy. Be careful.”
And with that, Wednesday was tossed back to the present with more questions than answers.
*****
The next morning had a sun shining bright enough to melt the frost that accumulated the night before and Harry stood beside Sirius’ bedside, describing it to him.
“It’s nice out, Ares,” he said, careful to use Sirius’ fake name even when it was only himself, Wednesday, and Sirius in the room. “It’s probably one of the last nice days of the year. Tyler said it gets cold here in the winters, really cold, but I’ll still come see you.”
“If he’s still here,” Wednesday muttered absently while she sketched away in the book Xavier gave her the night before.
Harry chose to pretend that Wednesday thought Sirius would recover and leave the hospital rather than die in there.
He couldn’t die.
Harry might have only known about him for a week, but Sirius had been there with Harry since he’d been eleven. Harry couldn’t lose him, he just couldn’t.
“If you start crying then I’m going to break out in hives and we’ll be unable to go get coffee,” Wednesday said just as Harry’s eyes began prickling with grief.
“Oh is it coffee day?”
Harry and Wednesday both turned to see Dr. Kinbott standing in the hospital room doorway with a vase full of mixed purple flowers. Harry nearly smiled when he saw the jasmine and lavender hidden in the bunch with roses.
“For Ares,” Dr. Kinbott said kindly when she noticed what Harry was looking at. She came further in the room and placed the vase on Sirius’ bedside table. “They’re from my own greenhouse.”
“Thank you,” Harry said genuinely, appreciative of the flowers that were all meant to symbolize healing.
“Why are you here?” Wednesday asked, quite rudely.
Dr. Kinbott didn’t seem offended, she tucked her hands in the pockets of her posh cream colored coat and smiled at Wednesday.
“Harry talked about your Uncle Ares in our last session, I thought I’d come by and leave some flowers for him. Something nice to see when he wakes up.”
Harry’s heart soared, hope inflating in his chest. Then it crashed with Wednesday’s cynical statement.
“Or something to bury inside his coffin.”
“Wednesday!” Dr. Kinbott gaped at Wednesday while Harry cringed and placed his hand on Sirius’ chest, reassured by the movement happening beneath it.
“What a terrible thing to say to a grieving friend,” Dr. Kinbott scolded Wednesday who stared at her with a deadpan look of defiance.
“It is one of two possible outcomes, would you rather Harry be filled with false hope?”
Yes.
Harry thought he’d rather be filled with hope that Sirius would heal, he’d wake up and answer all of Harry’s questions. Sirius would be fine and they’d go stay with Wednesday’s family over the summer and everything would work out perfectly for forever.
But then Harry remembered the crushing disappointment he still struggled to contain when he’d discovered that his dad was truly dead.
The two of them argued and Harry had a fleeting idea that it must be exactly how Wednesday’s sessions with Dr. Kinbott went while Harry stayed quiet and watched Sirius’ face for any sign of returning life.
Sirius’ face was still lifeless when Dr. Kinbott left and Harry and Wednesday were left alone once again.
“Coffee?” Wednesday offered, a silent apology, Harry assumed.
Harry debated silently with himself.
It would be nice to follow their usual routine and go get latte’s and see Tyler, but it would be better for Harry to see the grey eyes that followed him for so long opened once more.
“No,” Harry said decisively. “Let’s go practice magic.”
*****
Wednesday pulled out Sarah Addams-Potter’s spell book the instant that they returned to her dorm from the hospital. Enid was conspicuously absent, a blessing of silence left behind. Thing lounged on Wednesday’s desk, a tenseness to the lines of his palm when Wednesday opened the book up for Harry.
“I’ve translated the spells you marked,” Wednesday told Harry quickly. Some of the spells in the book were incredibly dark and Wednesday was as eager to explore them as she was to find the gates from her vision.
“This one, Crucio, roughly translates to ‘I torture’,” Wednesday pointed at the spell written on the page before moving her finger to the next one. “And this one, Imperio, is ‘I command’.”
“And this one?” Harry asked, pointing at the final spell on the page. “What’s it do?”
“This one was the most difficult to translate,” Wednesday told him, “it took me nearly twenty minutes.”
Harry’s lips twitched into a weak smile.
“It isn’t Latin at all, it’s as if they made the one they considered the worst the most difficult to decipher.” Wednesday traced the words lovingly, longing to have the power Harry had.
“Avada Kedavra, ‘I destroy as I speak’, it’s Aramaic. I believe it’s made to kill.”
Harry’s entire body twitched, but Wednesday disregarded it. His aversion to death was unnecessary and an obstacle to overcome.
“So nothing to help Sirius,” Harry said after a moment. “Just… just magic to destroy things.”
“Or,” Wednesday paused for a second, maximizing the drama that the moment deserved, “magic to end the monster if we find it again.”
It took some time to convince Harry of the necessity of practicing spells meant to destroy and overpower, but when he agreed, Wednesday pulled out the jar of tarantulas she had trapped just for that purpose.
“Let’s start with Imperio.”