The cramped potion room was thick with the scent of herbs and smoke, shelves lined with jars of strange ingredients casting flickering shadows on the walls. Grandmama, framed by her wild, tangled white hair and wrapped in her patchwork cloak, leaned over the cluttered table, eyes gleaming with that familiar mix of cunning and mischief.
Aleksander held up a small vial of powdered root, his voice steady but eager. "If you mix Netherflower with Powdered Root of Asphodel just so, you could brew a potion strong enough to put someone into an endless sleep."
Grandmama's cackling laugh echoed off the stone walls. "Brilliant, my boy! Truly brilliant." Her gnarled fingers curled tightly around a dark glass bottle, its cork sealed with red string like a sacred relic. "A potion like that could be the key to perfect mischief—or necessary defense."
Her squinting eyes softened just a touch, a rare warmth breaking through her sinister grin. "You've got a knack for the dark arts. If the stars align, maybe you'll wed my granddaughter and bring that genius into our twisted family."
Aleksander blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected blessing.
Grandmama gave a low, wheezing chuckle. "Oh, don't look so shocked. In this household, family means more than blood—it means a willingness to embrace the strange and the bizarre. You're already halfway there."
She leaned closer, her bushy eyebrows arching like twin crescent moons, voice dropping conspiratorially. "Now, let's see if we can brew something to keep those Addams mischief-makers in line."
The door suddenly burst open. Pugsley appeared, his short black hair tousled, freckles dotting his cheeks, brown eyes bright with impatience.
"Come on, Aleksander. You promised to teach me the Chain Lightning technique."
Grandmama's bushy eyebrows knit together in mild annoyance, but she knew Aleksander had been with her for quite some time. With a resigned glance, she waved him off. "Go on, then. But don't fry the boy."
Outside, the sun hit the training yard, casting long shadows across the weathered dummies. Pugsley planted his feet firmly, fixing Aleksander with a look that said no nonsense.
Aleksander nodded, stepping forward to explain. "Chain Lightning is a neat trick. You summon a bolt of lightning that strikes the target you choose—anyone you can see within range. Then, three more bolts jump from that first target, striking up to three others in quick succession."
Aleksander stepped in front of the training dummy, palms facing each other. Blue sparks flickered between his hands, crackling and weaving like a living chain of electric energy linking his palms together. The air around them hummed with raw power, shimmering under the charged static.
He focused, and with a sudden sharp motion, the chain of lightning leapt from between his palms, arcing toward the target. The bolt struck the dummy with a brilliant flash, then split into three smaller bolts that bounded swiftly to additional dummies nearby—each burst illuminating the yard with jagged streaks of electric blue light.
The lightning danced with fierce intensity, each strike sending sparks that crackled against the wooden targets, shaking them violently as Pugsley watched wide-eyed, clearly impressed.
Aleksander felt a gaze—sharp, unblinking—on him. He glanced up to see Wednesday watching from her bedroom window, her dark eyes cold and calculating as always.
Without a word, he made his way to her door and knocked softly.
"You can enter," came her flat, monotone invitation.
Inside, Aleksander found her exactly as before: sitting quietly, eyes still locked on him like a puzzle she hadn't yet solved.
"You seem to get along with my family remarkably well," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Wednesday's pale lips twitched ever so slightly, but she said nothing.
To shift the weight of the moment, Aleksander asked, "So—have you made progress with Occlumency?"
A certain gleam sparked in Wednesday's eyes as she spoke, voice deadpan but tinged with interest. "It's… an intriguing mental shield technique. Effective, though not without its mysteries."
Aleksander nodded. Then, she added, almost thoughtfully, "But you remain an enigma. Your powers—elemental, psychic, even transfiguration—are unlike anything I've encountered."
A small smile curved Aleksander's lips. "If I were simple to understand, it wouldn't be half as fun."
Wednesday gave a curt nod, already reaching for her notebook. "Suit yourself."
Curiosity got the better of him. "May I read some of your drafts?"
She shrugged, unmoved but consenting.
Aleksander picked up a sheaf of papers—her novel, titled Viper de la Muerte. He began to read, expression folding into serious concentration.
After a moment, Wednesday's voice sliced through the quiet. "I didn't peg you as the reading type."
Aleksander looked up, a faint smile still lingering. "I'm full of surprises."
Aleksander sighed, setting the pages down gently. "You're a very talented writer."
Wednesday's eyes flashed with a hint of arrogance, but she said nothing—yet.
He continued, "But the story… it feels like it's starting to go stale."
Wednesday's gaze narrowed, the faintest edge of irritation sharpening her tone. "For somone who doesn't write, you seem to know a lot."
Aleksander raised his hands quickly, palms open in surrender. "Just an observation. Writers need inspiration. Right now, it feels like yours is… blocked."
She didn't reply immediately. Instead, a slow, almost imperceptible curl of a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips—a rare hint that she was actually considering his words, even if she wouldn't admit it aloud.
Aleksander smirked, the hint of a challenge in his voice. "Why don't we start something new? A supernatural detective agency. You, with your psychic powers, solving the cases no one else can."
He paused, letting the idea hang in the air. "I have the means to make it happen. It could be exactly the kind of inspiration you need."
Wednesday's eyes flickered with faint intrigue, but her voice stayed flat, cool. "A detective agency? Sounds tedious."
Aleksander shrugged with a sly grin. "Tedious or not, it's something new. And new is exactly what you're missing."
Her gaze sharpened, a ghost of a smirk curling her lips. "Fine. But if I'm going to waste my time, it better be worth the effort."