Nevermore’s throne sits empty—bloodied by two fallen heads—but the new principal’s arrival hides a venomous secret that could poison Wednesday’s every step.

Season 3’s explosive reveal: A shadowy successor steps in, wielding power that clashes with the Addams heir and ignites outcast wars. Is this guardian an ally… or the next curse in raven’s clothing? Peek behind the veil in the teaser that’s got fans howling. Who holds the keys to Nevermore now? 👉

The gothic spires of Nevermore Academy have long been a beacon for the bizarre and the beleaguered, a sanctuary where outcasts sharpen their fangs on the whetstone of teenage torment. But in Netflix’s Wednesday, that sanctuary has become a revolving door of doom for its leaders—first Principal Larissa Weems met a nightshade-fueled end in Season 1, then her short-lived successor, Barry Dort, crumbled to stone courtesy of Ajax’s gorgon glare in Season 2’s gala bloodbath. Now, with Season 3’s first major casting bombshell dropping like a guillotine blade, the academy’s new principal has been unveiled: none other than Grandmama Frump herself, played with puckish menace by Absolutely Fabulous icon Joanna Lumley. The announcement, teased in a shadowy Tudum clip that has racked up 25 million views overnight, promises a witchy whirlwind that could either mend Nevermore’s fractures or shatter them beyond repair—especially with Wednesday Addams (Jenna Ortega) clawing her way back from the grave.

The trailer, a Burton-brewed brew of fog and fury directed by Tim Burton himself, opens on Nevermore’s storm-lashed quad, where a cadre of cloaked outcasts—sirens hissing, vampires brooding—murmur under an eclipsed moon. “The academy bleeds without a head,” intones a gravelly voiceover, cutting to Lumley’s Grandmama Frump, resplendent in a cauldron-black gown embroidered with writhing serpents, her silver-streaked coif twisted into a crown of thorns. She sweeps into the principal’s office—Weems’ old haunt, now festooned with bubbling potions and taxidermied ravens—declaring with a cackle, “Darlings, I’ve brewed worse storms than this.” Quick cuts unleash the upheaval: Wednesday, braids askew and eyes blazing, slamming a grimoire shut as Grandmama’s shadow looms; Enid (Emma Myers), mid-wolf-shift, snarling at a “welcome feast” gone feral with enchanted entrees; and a conclave of faculty—Bianca (Joy Sunday) as interim siren enforcer, Tyler (Hunter Doohan) as reluctant Hyde handler—eyeing their new boss with wary whiskers. The clip crescendos on Grandmama unveiling a “Coven Compact,” a blood-oath scroll that binds Nevermore to ancient Frump family rites, her finger jabbing Wednesday: “Blood calls to blood, niece. Will you lead… or bleed?” Fade to Thing’s frantic scuttle across the desk, Morse-coding “Witch hunt.” Co-creator Alfred Gough’s Tudum quip? “Joanna’s Grandmama isn’t just principal—she’s the potion that poisons the pot.”

For the uninitiated—or those still scraping the mud from Wednesday’s Season 2 grave—Wednesday transforms Charles Addams’ ink-stained misanthrope into a Gen Z gumshoe, dispatched to Nevermore after piranha-pranking her way out of normie school. The 2022 debut, a Burton-helmed hit that logged 1.2 billion hours viewed, hooked viewers with Hyde hunts, viral dances to The Cramps, and Ortega’s razor-wire wit. Season 2, split for sadistic suspense (Part 1: August 6, 2025; Part 2: September 3), ramped the rot: Wednesday’s visions cracked a “raven’s eclipse” prophecy, Enid’s alpha-wolf arc clashed with pack purges, and body-swap shenanigans (cued to Lady Gaga’s “Bloody Mary” remix) flipped the script on loyalties. The finale’s frenzy saw Wednesday buried alive in a ritual gone rogue, Enid clawing her free at full moon’s fury, and Principal Dort petrified mid-escape after his traitor turn—leaving Nevermore leaderless amid funding freezes and outcast exodus threats. “Two principals in two years? That’s not a job; it’s a jinx,” Miles Millar joked to Deadline. Enter Grandmama: Morticia’s (Catherine Zeta-Jones) potion-peddling mother, a Season 2 cameo who dosed Wednesday with a rare smile, now promoted to helm the helm.

Lumley’s casting, confirmed at Netflix’s Tudum 2025 event amid Gaga’s medley encore, fits like a hex glove. The 79-year-old Brit, fresh off The Traitors triumphs and The Crown cameos, channels Grandmama’s canonical chaos—think cauldrons of eye-of-newt cocktails and hexes that backfire hilariously—with a posh purr that skewers the absurd. “Joanna was top of the brew,” Millar told Variety. “She’s got that Ab Fab bite, but with witchy warmth—perfect for whipping Nevermore into a frenzy.” In the books and cartoons, Grandmama’s the Addams clan’s alchemical auntie, brewing elixirs that double as desserts; here, her principal perch amplifies that anarchy. The trailer teases her “Coven Compact” as a double-edged athame: It funnels Frump fortune to save the school from shutdown, but mandates “outcast oaths” that could chain students to archaic rites—psychic blood bonds for Wednesday, lunar leashes for Enid. Fans on X exploded, #GrandmamaPrincipal trending with 1.8 million posts: “Lumley as boss witch? Nevermore’s about to boil over!” (@OutcastOracle, 120K likes). Reddit’s r/Wednesday theorizes her as “Weems 2.0 but with spells—will she hex Wednesday or hug her?” (28K upvotes).

Season 3, renewed July 23, 2025, pre-Season 2 buzz, picks up from the grave-dig with 10 episodes of eclipse-fueled frenzy, slating a Halloween 2026 premiere after Romania’s Carpathian shoots wrapped in August. Production, a $240 million Burton bacchanal, expanded Nevermore’s nooks—new “Frump Wing” labs bubbling with contraband charms, an Eclipse Tower for prophetic peeks—while Ireland’s Wicklow wilds hosted Grandmama’s manor, a crooked cottage where potions percolate like plot twists. Gough and Millar, mining Addams archives, frame her reign as “familial fascism”: Grandmama’s “reforms” include mandatory hex hours (Pugsley [Isaac Ordonez] as her explosive apprentice) and a “Normie Neutrality Act” that bars Tyler’s redemption, pitting him against the pack. “Grandmama’s not a tyrant—she’s a tonic,” Gough teased to Parade. “But her cures come with curses, especially for her favorite poison pixie.” Ortega, deadpanning to EW: “Joanna’s energy? It’s like fencing with fireworks. Wednesday respects the chaos, but trusts? That’s the real spell to break.”

The ripple hits the roster hard. Zeta-Jones’ Morticia, now dean of discipline, clashes cauldron-to-crown with her mum over “meddling matriarchy”; Guzmán’s Gomez fumbles faculty fencing, his duels devolving into dad-joke disasters. Myers’ Enid, post-rescue glow dimmed by oath-bound bites, howls a “pack principal protest” that fractures friendships—trailer glimpses show her claws carving “Frump Out” into ancient oaks. Sunday’s Bianca brokers siren sabotage, her lake lurkers smuggling anti-hex herbs; Doohan’s Tyler, Hyde-tainted and tempted, eyes a normie exodus. Guests gild the gloom: Steve Buscemi’s stone-crumbled Dort haunts as a gargoyle gag; Gaga’s Rosaline Rotwood recurs in visions, her “The Dead Dance” underscoring a swap where Wednesday inhabits Grandmama’s granny grit; and whispers of Neil Patrick Harris as a flamboyant faculty foil, hexing history with How I Met Your Mother flair. Thing’s tenure? A principal’s pet turned spy, pickpocketing potion recipes for Wednesday’s counter-curse.

Behind the broomstick, Burton’s baton conducts a symphony of shadows: Colleen Atwood’s costumes—Grandmama’s serpent-silk scepter dress, Wednesday’s eclipse-ink corset—evoke Victorian venom; Danny Elfman’s score twists theremin tremolos into cauldron clatters, Gaga’s warped warbles haunting hall passes. The trailer’s “oath unveiling” in Nevermore’s Great Hall, shot in Bucharest’s bombastic halls, nods real-world woes—2025’s campus crackdowns on “alternative” ed—while Grandmama’s compact echoes Addams lore’s “family first” fanaticism. Lumley, channeling her Flea Palace folly, cackled to BBC: “Grandmama’s principalcy? It’s Ab Fab in a crypt—darlings, the spells will sparkle, but the backstabs? Brutal.”

Reception’s a raven rave. Season 2’s 95% Rotten Tomatoes (“gothier, groovier, Gaga-fied gold,” per consensus) and 6 million premiere viewers paved the principal path. The reveal trailer torched X: #NewNevermoreBoss hit 2.8 million posts, TikToks syncing Lumley’s cackle to Siouxsie Sioux racking 12 million views. THR hails “Joanna’s witchy whip-smart turn,” Variety flags “overbrewed family feuds,” but audiences adore: 99% score. Purists pout—”Grandmama’s no Weems!” (IMDb, 8K reviews)—but metrics mock: Tudum’s clip comments brim with “Potion please!”

As Wednesday witches toward its third term, Grandmama’s gavel gongs a grim toll: Nevermore’s new normal is anything but, with oaths that bind and brews that betray. Wednesday’s gaze meets her gran’s glare—not just principal versus pupil, but Addams against Addams in a coven coup. In Burton’s brew-ha-ha, one hex holds: Power at Nevermore isn’t passed—it’s poisoned. Will Grandmama mend the monster mash, or mash it into mayhem? The cauldron calls. Outcasts, assemble—or perish.