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Shadow Council 128D
🕑 Added 2024-02-02 02:16:07 +0000 UTC*****
The magic of the portkey dissipated, leaving Wednesday Addams standing in the center of the secure reception point of the London Diplomatic Attache’s Office. The Marines on duty didn’t react to her presence, other than to gesture to the door as she walked past them.
“Addams, Wednesday?” The secretary at the desk in the next room asked, not bothering to look up.
“That is correct.”
“Passport,” the woman asked, extending a hand.
Wednesday dropped it in her palm without comment, watched as it was stamped and cleared, then retrieved it casually.
“Anything to declare?”
“Merely my pet Crow, and the pet wolf of student Alexander Harris.” Wednesday said simply, “Both registered familiars.”
The secretary checked off a couple box, then dropped the paper into a box where it automatically folded itself into an airplane and took off down the hall.
“Everything seems in order,” She said, “Welcome to London. Enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you.”
And, with that, the entire process for entering the country was completed. Wednesday had travelled the normal ways a few times, and had to admit that the magical community certainly had things streamlined down to a much simpler operation.
She was directed to the way out of the offices, and within a few moments was on the streets of London. Casually setting down her luggage, she opened up the top of the case and was greeted by an irate looking raven that glowered mildly at her as he hopped out, as well as an annoyingly cute, charming, and… bubbly wolf.
Not quite a puppy anymore, Fenrir had not yet begun to properly fill out his adult bulk either. It left him lanky and somehow looking too big for his size, if that made any sense at all. Wednesday tolerantly put up with him snuffling at her hand for a moment before she passed a note to the Raven.
“Take this to Alexander,” She said. “I will be waiting for a response.”
The bird cawed once, then winged away as Wednesday looked around the streets of downtown London briefly before she closed up her case and picked it up casually, turning to start walking toward Diagon Alley with Fenrir at her side.
*****
At the burrow, Xander and Harry were tossing out ideas on what to do about the party, along with ignoring the various suggestions from Ron and the Twins. Ron, because while he was well meaning his ideas were about as useful as jello baseball bat. The Twins, because they were actively trying to cause chaos, which didn’t seem like much of a good idea at a Royal Party.
They were startled by a loud caw that came out of nowhere, causing them all to turn to see the rather large raven perched, somehow, on the back of the chair Xander was sitting on.
“Bloody hell,” One of the twins blurted, “How’d he get there?”
“Odin?” Xander blinked, extending his hand as the bird dropped a note from its beak. “You’re a ways from home.”
The Raven cawed impatiently, nudging Xander’s hand, and he got the message quickly.
“Waiting for a response, is she?” Xander nodded, “Hold on then.”
He unrolled the note, skimming it quickly, his mouth opening with some surprise.
“Wednesday’s in London, probably at Diagon by now,” Xander said, looking up at Harry. “I better go meet up with her, we can finish the details on his later.”
“Right,” Harry nodded, “Yeah, I need to talk with Mrs Tonks anyway, this is way over my head.”
“All our heads,” Xander laughed, “You’ll be fine.”
He started toward the door before he paused, thinking about something, “Hey… Harry, can I ask a favor?”
*****
Hermione was feeling worn out, but pleased with the outcome of the day’s shopping excursion. It wasn’t her normal fare, but spending a day with her mother had more than made up for any of the reluctance she might normally have with the whole shopping thing.
“I am so beat,” She moaned as she fell into the big comfortable couch in her living room. “That was torture, mum.”
Emma smiled slightly in her direction, “Too tired for cheesecake?”
Hermione opened her eyes, looking over sharply, “We didn’t buy cheesecake.”
“Not when you were watching.”
Hermione groaned, but pulled herself up, “I can muster the strength.”
“I thought you might,” Her mother said, amused, as she dug the cake out of the groceries and headed for the kitchen with it.
In a few minutes they were seated at the table, both quietly enjoying the confection as they tried to relax their muscles from the day’s efforts.
“Your father has quietly put out the word that we may be willing to sell our practice,” Emma said after a time.
Hermione’s breath hitched, and she swallowed hard, suddenly not tasking the cake.
“Are you sure?” She asked.
“No,” Emma said, “but for now it’s just seeing what the market is like. If you could check with your friend Harry about what Xander said?”
“The Tax thing?” Hermione nodded, “I’ll look into it.”
Emma nodded, looking a little sad, “We’ve been at this practice a long time. It may be time for a change, especially with you coming of age and all.”
Hermione rolled her eyes, “Don’t say it like that, it makes my life sound like a bad youth novel.”
Emma chuckled, holding up her fingers, “Magical school, check. Evil bad guys, check. Two, or is that three young love interests?”
“Don’t go there,” Hermione scowled at her, setting her mother off into peels of laughter.
The sound must have gotten her Dad’s attention, as he stuck his head into the room in the middle of her mother’s fit, smiling confusedly.
“Did I miss something?”
“No!”
******
Wednesday had appropriated a seat in the corner of the Leaky Cauldron, ordering a simple drink that was not overly disgusting, and then opened a book to read while she waited.
For all that Fenrir was too much like his partner for her liking, he was also just enough like Xander in some ways. While she was reading, he quietly lay there and made not a single sound… until someone approached her table.
At that point a low, nearly subsonic, growl send a shiver through the air that quickly turned around whatever pest had been intent on disturbing her.
She found herself rather neatly pleased with the young wolf, despite her earlier irritation.
She heard a rumble of a familiar motor a little over an hour after she’d arrived and neatly set her book aside as the door to the Cauldron opened up to reveal Xander meandering in. He looked around, spotting her, and waved to the barkeep on his way past as the man seemingly tried to warn him about the wolf.
He needn’t have bothered.
Fenrir was already on his feet and charging, a silent padding that would have taken any prey animal by surprise when they were inevitably body slammed by the massive canine. Xander, though, just caught the dog and casually swung him about, laughing as he evaded the unnaturally long lolling tongue that kept trying to lick his face.
“Ok, boy, we’ll catch up in a bit. I know, I know, I’m sorry but I didn’t know where I was going to be staying and… well, you’re getting kind of big,” He said, casually chatting with the pup as the pair ambled over to Wednesday’s table.
Xander dropped in across from her, grinning, “You didn’t tell me you were coming early.”
“It was a… spur of the moment decision.”
“Right. Well, I have good news,” Xander said in an effusively cheerful manner that set Wednesday’s teeth on edge.
“Oh? Do tell,” She replied, her tone ice cold as she dared him to give her any news that warranted such a disgustingly sweet presentation.
“I’ve found you a place to stay,” He told her, grinning.
“That is not necessary.”
“Oh it was a pleasure,” Xander countered. “Really, no problem at all. Harry was only too happy to let you stay at his place.”
In that moment, Wednesday was quite honestly debating the merits of killing her friend.
She’d raise him after, of course, if only so that she could kill him again, but still.
*****
Comments
Tim
Don't know why my mind conjured this up, but I dreamt the Grangers, & Potter spending Christmas with the Addams and Emma and Dan no selling the Addams behavior. Not just no selling but acceptting and even participating in some cases. (Had a picture on my head of another door to dor salesman and Emma grabbing the knives and out throwing all of them)
Dogbertcarroll
Xander loves to flirt with death or as he calls her Wednesday.
