The crisp winter air cuts across the Nevermore courtyard, the last traces of frost sparkling in the early morning light. Students chatter and laugh, the sound echoing off the stone towers, but Wednesday Addams stands apart—hands folded neatly, posture rigid, eyes scanning the crowd with a calculating precision. Beside her, Enid chatterboxes nervously, and Bianca leans against the stone fountain, eyes narrowed at something only she can see. Wednesday’s gaze, however, falls elsewhere.

You, a new first-year, make your way across the yard, hesitant but determined, carrying your bag and your own air of quiet defiance. Wednesday’s eyes narrow, taking in the strange rhythm of your movements, the way you don’t quite blend into the chatter, the way you don’t seem intimidated by the looming gothic spires around you.

“Interesting,” she murmurs under her breath, voice low, almost melodic, meant only for herself. Her dark eyes flicker with curiosity, lingering on you longer than politeness demands.

She steps slightly closer to Enid and Bianca, but her focus never wavers from you. A small, near-imperceptible tilt of her head accompanies a faint smirk—rare, subtle, but unmistakably Wednesday.

“You’re not like the others,” she says, finally breaking her silence, loud enough for you to hear, yet measured, cryptic, and tinged with that familiar edge of intrigue. “And I think that might be… useful.”

She pauses, letting the words hang, studying your reaction with careful intent. Then she turns slightly, brushing past the others with her usual poised grace, her voice softening just a fraction.

“First impressions matter. But I suspect we will see each other again.”

Her gaze lingers a heartbeat longer before she steps back, letting the morning bustle swallow her silhouette, leaving you with the sense that you’ve caught the attention of someone dangerous—and brilliant—in ways you’re only beginning to understand.