Blood and Promises
Chapter 3- Not QuiteThe flat was cold, an obvious side effect of not being lived in for weeks on end, and too quiet for his liking. He set his keys on the small wrought iron and glass table by the door, briefcase, sunglasses, watch and wallet with them before turning up the heat. Walking through the small foyer, he tossed his jacket on one of the large chests against the wall. He only bothered with the coat closet (more like room if you were to ask him) when he had company, and that wasn't often.
The brown tile of the foyer gave way to beige carpet in the living room, balcony doors centered in perfect allignment with the main door, framed by black gauzy drapes. The whole wall it seemed was glass, biving the room the illusion of being completely open, if of course the French doors to the balcony were ignored. He normally stayed in the living room long, despite the incredible entertainment system that gaced the center of the floor.
The newest technology, technology that wasn't even available to the public or corporate buyers yet, and most of it sat untouched. There was a double sided flat-screen TV, speackers at both sides, with his standard DVD/VHS players/recorders, minidisk players/recorders, CD, radio, and receivers for 3 satelites and 2 cable. Of course only one of each of them were actually for the TV…
Curved glass and wrought iron coffee tables, each adorned with a 3 wick candle at one end and a remote holder at the other, sat before each side. They were accompanied by curved black leather couches, recliners in the end seats, and six people could easily sit on each with elbow room to spare. End tables that matched the coffee tables sat at eachend of the couches, small desk-like lamps on each. Cup holders and coasters were inlaid on all tables, and there wasn't a spot of dust or a finger print on any of them. He hated looking at that room. It felt too much like work.
"Idiot', he said to himself as he headed to the large dining room, "That's because it is work!"
The dining room table ws a thick black pint, edges and legs depicting a war between Light and Dark long past. The chairs had high backs, padded with red velvet to match the seats, and they too depicted the war. The candelabras that were set on it were silver, with black candles, and he smiled at them. They were the only candles he ever burned, despite the fact that there were new ones all over the flat.
Hanging along the back wall was a familiar set o tapestires, the center on being the Gryffindor crest from Hogwart's. On the left side of it was one depicting the four founders and Hogwart's birth, while on the right side was one with a black dog, a silver and tawny werewolf, and a stag, a red-headed, green-eyed girl on its back in front of Hogwarts. Across the top it read: "I Solomly Swear I'm Up To No Good." Across the bottom: "Badfoot, Moony, Prongs, and Red." He always nodded to it, and they nodded back. Red and gold fabric adorned the wall with sliding dor to a smaller balcony than the one from the living room, and a broom stood in the corner. He passed them all and went into the kitchen.
White tile, white and glass cabinets, black and white marble counters with a black title backsplash. Stardard kitchen, with a stove island with an attached breakfast bar with two barstools. The back of the counters and wine rack were filled with bottles of everything from Vinegar and Olive oil to Mugwort and Belladonna. The cabinets were filled with Muggle and Wizard provisions. Cookware underneath the island. The pantry was fully stocked and he pulled out the coffee. He made himself a pot and sat down at the counter. Too much to think about. He went back through the lifving room, past the baby grand piano, guest bath and laundry into his room. He sighed and looked around.
Dark carpetin, black actually, the lighting very dim. The dresser across fromhim made him smile as he looked at the bed, decked in its black and green Egyptian cotton sheets and comforter. He smiled at the old chest at the foot of the bed and stript himself of his suit jacket and tie. He stepped into the bathroom and started the shower, ignoring the neglected hot tup.
"Nobody to share it with." he mumbled. "And it's not like I'm actually looking."
The ring of his cell phone startled him out of his thoughts and he unclipped it from his belt.
"Yeah?"
"Harry, it's Padma."
"What's wrong?"
"Just got a call from one of my street guys.
Seems like the London Underground is getting superb business."
"Muggle or Wizard?"
"Both."
"Shit. What'd they
get?"
"Standard guns, knives, stakes, a few magic scythes, and a few illegal potions
and ingredients. I did a little diggin',
and it seems that they've been dealing with Vamps."
"Have you called Ron?"
"Yup. He told me to call you. He thinks this has something to do with
Venus Prowler."
"Hmm… Has Collin gotten back yet?"
"He's not due in until tomorrow morning, why?"
"I have a funny feeling something in this months information from Snape could
be helpful. I'll try him at home. Keep me posted."
"Sure thing Harry. G'Night."
"Night Padma. And thanks."
hanging up, Harry stripped and stepped into the bot blare of water that had steamed up his bathroom. There was definitly a connection, but where and finding it would be the hard part. He'd have to spend mor than a few hours at the office.
"and just when I was going to enjoy working from home." he sighed, pressing a few puttons on the keypad on the shower wall.
Loud music filled the flat, and for at least the night he could relax.
~TBC~
You'll understand the point behind describing Harry's flat now, as opposed to later.
Muse: TK's lazy and didn't wanna wait til later.
Shut up, bitch.
Muse: Watch it girl, I supply you with the good ideas, remember?
Bullshit! They're all my ideas
Muse: who controls the blot bunnies mdear?
Please, don't bring /them/ into it, I have enough problems as it is.
Muse: You think I don't know that? Hit the little button down there and leave TK a review. It makes her feel special.
I /am/ special! *beats plot bunny with a spare computer mouse*
Muse: Oh dear… time to call the doctor. Again.