The quad was awash with January sun, but the shadows were far more appealing to Wednesday, who had decided to make a beeline for the apiary; there was no doubt that Eugene would be there, tending to his 'fuzzy buzzy babies'. What a sickening phrase. Wednesday was glad that Eugene had not inherited the tendency to describe things in this revolting way from his mothers.
Unfortunately, the shadows proved not cover enough from interfering sorts – and one walked right over, interrupting Wednesday's purposeful stride and thus earning a spine-chilling glare.
"So, Addams. No Poe Cup this term. Excited for the fencing tournament?"
Wednesday replied coldly, "You cannot imagine my impatience, Barclay. Much as you fail to notice my current impatience to be somewhere else at the moment. I have no doubt there will be time for conversation at a later date."
Resuming her pace – and perhaps hastening it a little – Wednesday continued from the quad to the grounds, and along the poorly-trodden little dirt path to the Hummers' hut. As predicted, Eugene was there; already contented to be back in his habitat, he became overjoyed to see his friend.
"Wednesday! How were the hols for you? I went camping with my mums. Filled up half a notebook with research!" The pages, detailed with diagrams and observations, were duly brandished. "They gave me a new one for Christmas, though. Did – do you celebrate?"
"I find such trivial and commercialised events unnecessary. My parents disagree, but I managed to escape without torture."
The pair continued to discuss the matter, as well as skimming the topic of last term's events, whilst harvesting the hives.
"Thornhill was actually a pretty good teacher, ignoring all the evil stuff obviously.", Eugene was saying as they completed the task. Wednesday declined to reply; she still felt a great deal of hatred toward her former teacher, and found it easier simply not to begin talking. Both Hummers were silent as they carried baskets of honey jars up to the school kitchens: when Wednesday saw Eugene tiring, however, she took his workload into her surprisingly strong hand.
"Thanks, Wednesday.", wheezed Eugene.
"Next time I am going to make you carry your basket until your arms are stretched past your knees.", threatened Wednesday, unwilling to let her cold-as-ice exterior melt even for a friend that helped her defeat a demon (this being not the monster nor the undead pilgrim). The curly-haired boy wandered back to the beehives, and Wednesday – remembering her still-unpacked bags – decided to trudge reluctantly back to her shared dormitory.
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Wenclair - a New Term at Nevermore
FanfictionThis story takes place assuming that the stalker introduced at the end of Season 1 was caught during the ensuing holidays, and is an account of the following term at Nevermore. I will try to update every day except Wednesdays.
