Chapter Text
“And you’re sure Carmilla has enough blood to get her through the semester?”
“Of course, mijo. We promise she’ll be well taken care of.”
An elegant vintage black hearse, outfitted with red velvet seating ambled its way through the forested roads of Vermont. Driven by a zombie, the occupants of the vehicle could not have felt safer if they tried, the world outside little more than ambiance.
Gomez and Morticia Addams did not need to accompany their eldest child in moving him back into his boarding school for his sophomore year, not really. He’d been there the year before. Nevertheless, the family wanted to say their goodbyes. Well, most of them, anyway.
“I promise I’ll look after her!” the middle school aged younger sibling said from his seat up front.
The older, taller boy in the back, August “Auggie” Addams ran a hand through his artfully mussed silky black hair and smiled over his shoulder at his younger brother.
“Thank you, Pugsley, I appreciate it. I just better not return to her liking you more than me.”
“Never!”
Auggie hummed thinking briefly of his beloved pet bat back home in New Jersey before busying himself with checking the contents in the black bag at his side. Pristine black camera, film strip canisters both greyscale and red, a few bundles of sage and several black tipped matches. Yes. Everything was here.
“Auggie, darling?” The lilting voice of his mother drew his attention upwards. “Is something wrong? I would’ve imagined you’d feel nervous for the first year at a new school, not the second.”
Gomez, a second behind his wife, added, “what’s wrong my boy?”
Auggie breathed out and smiled at his parents. “Nothing. I just have a new roommate this year. Conner graduated.”
“That’s right. Oh he was lovely,” Morticia said.
“Yes, quite,” Auggie whispered to himself.
“Well, nothing to fear my son!” Gomez said, sweeping his arms out as wide as his smile. “You’ve always been so good at making friends!”
The fact that he was ever so slightly unsettling to said Normie friends back home was notwithstanding.
Through the window, the castle like structure of Nevermore Academy came into view through the trees. The massive structure all stone edifices and looming clock towers. Perfect.
“We’ll be there shortly,” Morticia said, “you have your sage? Your candles?”
“Yes mother,” Auggie said, smiling genuinely at her, no hint of teenage grumbling to be found.
“The ghosts won’t give you any trouble will they?” Pugsley asked, curious from the front seat, probably breaking a road safety law or two with how turned around he was.
“Oh some of them will,” Auggie answered with a sly smile, “but most of them should have learned by now.”
August Addams was what the Outcast Community - the sub section of the world’s population that consisted of supernatural beings - would call a Medium. Similar to the Doves and Ravens of the Psychic classification, Mediums could also see and talk to spirits. Only Mediums were not limited to one from their ancestry as a guide to their powers. They could speak to all ghosts, so long as there was one in the area.
Nevermore Academy’s graveyard and grounds held several.
The wrought iron gate and its filigreed ravens creaked ominously open for the vintage vehicle, allowing the Addams Family inside. Auggie felt a subtle drop in temperature. The spirits of Nevermore welcoming him home.
“I do wish Wednesday could have come,” Auggie mused, “I think she would love it here.”
Wednesday, August’s younger and scarier sister, was instead enjoying the last few days of her summer vacation with her Grandmother Frump likely learning the Frump family mortuary business. He did not envy her in the slightest.
Funeral practices were fascinating and important, especially for someone with his particular gifts, but Auggie was his mother’s son, and he knew well what his mother’s mother was like. He avoided her at any larger family gatherings whenever he could out of politeness. He did not like her. Not one bit. He much preferred Grandmama Addams and her various tinctures and potions.
When he squinted, sometimes he could see the silhouette of a man, small sparks of ghostly lightning arcing harmlessly off him, hovering over her shoulder. Auggie would smile softly until she noticed and yelled at him - affectionately - to cut it out. Auggie suspected she knew just what he’d always seen.
“Maybe she’ll enroll next year, darling,” Morticia said, a mother-daughter relationship born sadness in her voice.
As the family stepped from the car, it became even more apparent that August was his mother’s son. Both were tall, and held an elegant air about them. Serene and joyful expressions on their faces. Gomez was proud to say that all his children took on some of his beloved’s good looks, but none of them looked more like Morticia than August.
The boy grabbed his camera bag, straightened his black wool coat - school uniforms not being required on move in day - and breathed in the Jericho air.
All around them, Nevermore students and their families were bustling about. Large, lumbering boys barked and rough housed nearby, their luggage all but forgotten in their werewolf goodbye rituals. A mother gorgon kissed a beanie-clad boy on the forehead, elegantly keeping her scarves bundled over her at the same time.
A car door slammed and a young girl, looking about Wednesday’s age with frazzled brown hair, stomped out. “BYE!” She yelled over her shoulder. She hauled a backpack and dragged a trunk herself, stubbornly ignoring the car speeding off and away from the school. Flames licked her shoulders and the ends of her hair. As quickly as she’d come, she was gone, lost in the hustle and bustle of move in day.
Out the corner of his eye, almost so translucent he hadn’t seen them at all, were shapes lurking at the edge of the tree line. Ghosts. He expected a wave and turned to offer one of his own, but when he looked their way, the shiver of spirits backed up and faded into the forest.
August hummed, confused, but turned to his family all the same, mentally filing that information away for later. “Exciting!” he said, “Isn’t it? Let’s go!”
August Addams was a confident young man. He had a wonderful family and truly never struggled making friends. He walked through life as if nothing could touch him. But today, he was trying very hard, as he and his family walked through the mahogany of Thisbe Hall, not to be nervous about his new roommate. The last one had been… well…
Well, there was no sense in worrying until more information could be gathered!
“Addams,” a gruff, authoritative voice called from behind him in the hallway.
Auggie’s face broke out in a grin and he stopped. He turned and stood rigidly facing the other wall of the hall in a facsimile of military attention.
“Coach Cask sir!”
A gruff, boulder of an ancient vampire approached him. He was outfitted in a green jumpsuit, reminiscent of a general’s garb from some era or another of history. That or an old timey safari getup, but no student of Thisbe Hall or any of the sports teams Theodorus Cask coached would say so within earshot under penalty of a truly astronomical amount of push-ups. Catching the ire of Coach Cask, dorm dad of Thisbe Hall, was a mistake you made only once before you got the message. August Addams, however, enjoyed pushing the envelope from time to time. To say nothing of sneaking out after curfew.
Auggie stood a handful of inches taller than the coach, which did not help in curbing his amusement at the situation.
“Is something funny, boy?” The vampire snarled.
Auggie avoided looking at the man, staring resolutely forward. If he gazed at the man’s too large aviators or shiny military boots, he would break character laughing.
“Not at all, sir, no.”
Behind his glasses, Cask squinted.
“No trouble from you this year Addams, I want your word.”
“I promise I will do my best, sir!” Auggie hazarded a glance over in the direction of his little brother, and winked. His fingers were crossed behind his back.
Not seeing this, Coach Cask replied “Good lad,” before stalking off to yell at a handful of werewolf boys down the hall.
“When you get here,” Auggie said, throwing an arm around Pugsley’s shoulders, “Hope you don’t get assigned to Thisbe.” Though he was smiling from ear to ear in wake of the friendly confrontation.
The family turned a corner to a section of Thisbe Hall that was older than the rest of the dormitory. The relatively new mahogany wood and red rugged carpeting gave way to more stone and older wood. The windows in this section of the hall were more warped, the glass foggy, wavy and speckled with air bubbles. This section of Thisbe had been built back in the days when Nevermore and the Outcast community at large had to take what they could get.
The fact this more historic part of the building still stood, unchanged and as a monument to the social struggles faced through their history, endeared the place to August. He found himself fortunate to have been given a room here. His former roommate Conner, had not agreed.
Would the room feel different without him there? Auggie imagined it would have to.
The door could’ve stood to be replaced. The wood of it warped slightly at the bottom, the corner of it sticking out a bit like a dog-eared page. There were little green discolorations in it as well. Not mold or rot, but close enough to make a few students speed past this part of the hallway. But near the top of the door at its center were four small rectangular panes of green stained glass.
And it was properly stained, not from age or any disquieting affliction. The marbled glass was stained a pleasant shade of green, and Auggie smiled up at it as he pulled the old brass handle open.
The room was almost exactly as he’d left it. His side of the room from last year remained emptied. The desk still sat against the near wall. His bed still sat tucked into its corner. He’d be able to set up his film strips and photo boards just as he’d done before.
The bay window was still the same. Warped foggy glass allowing diffused light to filter inside, creating the illusion of a forever cloudy day outside. The green cushion in the bench of it was still a little moth eaten, but structurally sound. It was still just as perfect as it had been day one of last year’s term.
One thing was different though. On the sill, were a small collection of plants potted in mason jars and bottles. A vine crept from one around the edge of the window, slowly budding with delicate white flowers.
“Oh hello! You must be staying here too! Baby, come meet your new roommate!” A southern female voice cooed.
A woman and her son stood on the other half of the room. Both of them had wavy ginger hair - though of vastly different lengths - the color of fresh fallen leaves. They both wore natural patterned green clothing. The woman had a flowing emerald green dress, covered in small purple and blue flower designs. Her son had an olive green shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, covered in small, white vine-like patterns. The mother seemed very excited to meet the arriving family, the boy - half a head shorter than Auggie, looked terrified. The timid little flowers on the vine shivered and drew back slightly.
“Mama,” the boy whispered, freckled face already pink.
August tilted his head at the boy, analyzing. Interesting.
“Sweetie, it’ll be fine!”
“You must be Mrs. Bellerose,” Morticia said, walking forward to greet the woman.
“That’s me! You must be Mrs. Addams!” the other woman greeted in turn. Mrs. Bellerose seemed to be swooping in for a hug.
August, perceptive and charming in most things, interceded. He stepped forward, delicately grabbing Mrs. Bellerose’s hand and kissing the back of it.
“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
Mrs. Bellerose smiled brightly at him. “Oh, please, call me Maggie! I’m just so delighted that my baby will have someone nice to share the school year with!”
“Mama,” the boy in question responded, redder and more embarrassed than before.
Auggie smiled wider and crossed to him, a hand held out. “August Addams, but Auggie is fine.”
Cautiously, the boy took his hand and shook it. “Rusty Bellerose. Auggie, huh? That’s a bit of an odd nickname, isn’t it?”
“Why thank you,” Auggie said brightly, “I certainly think so.”
Rusty, caught a little off guard, smiled and chuckled. Auggie’s smile widened.
“Do you control plants?” Pugsley asked excitedly from Rusty’s other side.
Rusty shrieked and stumbled a little. He would have toppled over had it not been for Auggie catching him by the shoulders.
“My little brother Pugsley. I assure you, he’s mostly harmless,” Auggie said simply.
“Uhm… yeah,” Rusty said once he’d recovered and the parents had stopped laughing. Pugsley continued staring up at him, awaiting an answer. “Uhm, yeah, I’m a Botanical. These plants are mine.”
Rusty hazarded a nervous look at Auggie, and then, noticing he was still being supported by the other boy, blushed and removed himself from Auggie’s arms.
He coughed, “is that, uhm, is that okay?”
“It’s different,” Auggie said.
Rusty looked down. “Oh.”
A second of silence, and then, realizing his mistake, Auggie amended, “a good different.” In a quieter voice, he said, “I think I need a little different this year.”
“Oh!” Rusty said, looking up.
Unseen by any in attendance, a little black flower began to bloom on the vine beside the white.