Chapter 5:pulled her closes

She arched back into him, allowing him better access to her pale throat. "He's missing memories? How dreadful."

"He's missing something. I think he's out there trying to find it again." His hot breath contrasted against her frigid skin.

"Se rappeler les oubliés." She said softly.

His eyes glazed over with desire. "Tish, that's French! You know how that drives me mad." He spun her around and pulled her close, gazing deeply into her own smoldering eyes.

"Oui."

Unable to resist any longer, Gomez swept his wife into his arms and carried her into their bedroom past the cackling form of Grandmama Frump who was busy brewing something putrid in a small cauldron.

-o-o-

Gomez was right, something just didn't fit about how he remembered his life. He kept recalling the way Gomez used 'well adjusted' as an epithet, and how he seemed disappointed that Harry hadn't turned into a psychopath.

Try as he might, he could make no sense out of what he'd been through, and how he was now. It just felt wrong.

Looking back at the cottage which looked downright evil in the light of the moon, he was confused at how right the Adamses felt.

Noticing that the two figures watching him had disappeared, Harry decided to give up his soul searching for the night.

Perhaps in the morning, after he was rested, things would make more sense.

The walk back to the cabin was long and cold. He was thankful that Gomez and Morticia had offered him shelter for the night, he didn't exactly have anywhere else to go.

He did hope someone was still awake, seeing as he had no idea where he was supposed to sleep. There seemed to be flickering lights on in the kitchen area, so that's where he headed as soon as he reached the building.

"Couldn't find what you needed could you child?" Granny Frump said as she carefully poured the foulest smelling potion he'd ever had the misfortune to encounter.

"This will straighten you right out." She handed him the potion she'd just brewed. It bubbled menacingly.

"What will it do?" Harry asked, unsure about drinking the foul concoction.

She sat down and motioned for him to join her. "It should unlock any hidden memories you have, and before you say anything, Gomez didn't mention what you talked about at all.

I have other, more reliable ways of gathering information." Noting his reluctance to drink, she urged him on. "Go on then, it will do you a world of good.

It's my own special recipe, it will also improve your memory." Smiling as he drank, she added, "It also makes a fine drain cleaner, will eat through any clog."

Surprisingly, the potion didn't taste nearly as bad as it smelled, in fact it was almost delicious. He spluttered, nearly choking on the last swallow as he heard her drain cleaner comment. Almost slamming the cup down on the table, he glared at her.

She responded by cackling madly. "I forgot to mention, it'll knock you out for quite a while too. Nighty night!"

The world started to spin, and the last thing he remembered before darkness took him, was her insane laughter.

It was Christmas, and Santa had given him a toy fire engine. Dudley wanted to play with it, but he didn't want to share. Dudley wouldn't shut up, so he hit his fat cousin with the fire engine.

Dudley fell down, and stopped bothering him. His aunt screamed, and his uncle took away the fire engine, and put him in his room for a time out.

He had just finished executing his teddy bears for leading the toy rebellion against him, when a weird old man wearing a dress came into his room with his uncle in tow.

The man looked at the teddies, and looked disappointed. He couldn't understand why. He thought he did a good job of crushing the rebellion.

He'd impaled the ringleader, drawn and quartered the second in command, and he'd slit the belly of the lieutenant before finishing him off by decapitation.

The stuffing pouring from the belly wound was a nice touch he'd thought.

"I'm sad to agree with you Vernon, but you're right. The boy is disturbed." The weird old man pulled a stick out of his dress. "I'll see if I can't make him more normal.

Obliviate." A light came out of the man's stick.

-o-o-

It's the first day of school, and he doesn't want to go. He tries screaming, and stamping his feet, but it doesn't change his aunt's mind. His cousin is already on the bus, and his aunt is trying to get him to go join Dudley.

His aunt just won't listen, so he grabs the pencil from next to the phone, and stabs her as hard as he can. The pencil slides into her thigh, and she screams. He forgets what he's doing, and just watches the red blood well up and soak her skirt, while tiny rivers flow down her leg to pool in her shoe.

Soon a weird old man wearing a dress shows up with his uncle. The man pointed a stick at him, and for some reason, he couldn't move anymore.

"Whatever you did last time didn't work. You have to do something else, or else we just won't be able to handle him." His uncle pleaded with the old man in the dress.

His aunt whimpered in the next room, as a strange lady he never noticed come in was pouring water on his aunts wound.

Maybe it wasn't water, there was steam that rose as it touched her skin. Then the lady made his aunt drink different colored juices.

"I'm afraid the only option left is to try and fundamentally alter his mind." The weird man said looking at him sadly.

"No spell is powerful enough to do so permanently, at least not on its own. I'll do what I can, but I think there is going to have to be some changes around here."

"What do you mean?" His uncle asked.

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