"Just up this way, Mr. Evan," yelled Ms. Biller. How did a lady, who was at least in her seventies, was able to carried two oversize suitcases up to sixth floor by stairs, non magically, and still managed to yelled to him with such ease and demand was beyond Harry's understanding.
James Evan, that's the new identity Harry picked for himself. It only seemed fitted.
"Ms. Biller, let me…" Harry pulled out his wand, as Ms. Biller seemed to have trouble making her way through an already too narrow corner with the suitcases.
"Oh, for Merlin's beard, don't you, boy. It's your first day here! Beside, I like to keep myself up for the game, physically, I mean. You know, I think we rely on our wooden sticks a bit too much sometime…" she turned the corner effortlessly and moved on.
It was true; the lady looked slim and well form, even for a witch who was far younger than her. Harry wonder if himself would stand a chance if he had to have a wand-less combat with the lady. Her long silver hair was braided neatly behind her, with her milky white robe on her well tan, healthy looking skin; her manner reminded him a warrior goddess from the ancient Greece or some other kind of ancient cultures.
She finally stopped at the very top of the stairs on the ninth floor of the old wooden building. The cramped corridor was filled with sunlight, coming from the various sized skylights. Ms. Biller pushed open a door on her right side and led Harry in,
"I cleaned the room just yesterday, all the sheets are clean, so are the curtains, and I expect them to somewhat stay that way. Feel free to redecorate, or bring in pets if you like, just don't destroy the room. The last igit who lived here brought in a dozen fire crabs and nearly burn down the place. I expect none of that from you, Mr. Evan." She paused as she putted down the cases beside the foot of the single bed on the far side of the room.
Harry absorbed his new room in details; the bed is directly across the door alone with one night stand on each side, an one piece window stretch across the whole wall; an old ebony writing desk was set across the foot of the bed, with a same old looking wardrobe beside it. The room was bright with sunlight; the multiple sized skylights from the corridor seemed to extend on to the roof of his room. An arch covered with wooden beads curtain took placed beside the head of the bed, leading into the bathroom.
"You are sharing the bathroom with Mr. Ronan, he is out traveling right now; he does that a lot, sometimes I wouldn't hear from him for months, but he always comes back. A quite fellow he is. He's not the neatest person in the world, but quit tidy he is, so try to keep the shared area clean until he comes back," said Ms. Biller while she walked through the beads curtain and putted down a set of clean towels on bottom layer of the three-layers shelf beside the sink. Harry peeked into the communal bathroom behind her; the room was bright as the rest of the floor, with two sets of bronze sink, a shelf beside the sink on both side of the wall, two identical wooden laundry baskets set under the shelves; beneath another set of skylight was a bronze bathtub and a toilet. Small, but functional, just the way he likes it, thought Harry. The bronze pieces kind of reminded him of Hogwarts. The images of people he knew fleshed through his mind, and Harry need to literally close his eyes to let the darkness broke those ongoing memories.
No, he's not ready for them yet.
"…en, Mr. Evan, are you listening to my words?"
Harry jumped a little when he found himself looking straight into the summer sky blue eyes of Ms. Biller's as he opened his again. They were about five inches away from him now, and filled with concern.
"Mr. Even, are you feeling all right?" Harry could see those harsh freckles around her eyes and her heavy lips, and they shouted to Harry that the owner of them was not asking about his physical health. Why did the seniors with blue eyes in his life always seemed have the ability to read his mind?
"Er…yes, I'm great, Ms. Biller, my apology. You were saying?" Harry could tell that she did not believe him, but chose to hold back her commons.
"I was just telling you the male schedule, my dear, the breakfast and lunch are self served, the kitchen is basically opened twenty-four seven, but the supper is at seven o'clock sharp. I will not allow late comers at my dinner table, understand, boy?"
"Of course, Ms. Biller," Harry felt a familiar shiver down his spin; his experiences with charismatic elder ladies had taught him a few things about obeying and being on time.
"Well, if you need anything just give me a head-up, I have to ask you to excuse me; it is about time for me to hit the kitchen."
Harry collapsed on the bed the moment Ms. Biller closed the door behind her.
He was tired. He had been traveling through the world for the past two years. He had been to most part of Europe, South East Asia, China, Japan, Australia, Africa, and some part of South and North America; picking up random jobs for cash. Almost like a treasure hunter or a bounty hunter he once read about in Muggle's comic books. He decided to find a base for himself now; some colleague along the way had gave him the information about this little valley hidden in between the streets of Stockholm, Sweden.
It seemed like a quite place to return, Harry thought as he closed his eyes, hoping to get some sleep before the supper.
Harry woke up and found himself looking up to the starry evening sky. He searched the nightstand for his glasses and picked up his wrist watch. Darn it, he did miss supper. Harry could see the image of Ms. Biller standing in the middle of the Kitchen, glaring at him furiously when he went down for breakfast in the morning.
It was already passed mid night, and Harry felt even more drained than he was hours ago.
He stumbled his way to the arch, candle flouting in the air lighted up one by one as he passed through them. Ms. Biller must have putted them there for him, as he did not recall seeing them earlier that day. He curved the tips of his lips a little; he would wake up early tomorrow, and brewed a nice cup of breakfast tea for the wonderful, caring lady he just met today.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror; these were normal mirror then, judging by the fact that he had not been criticized yet after five seconds. After a long sight, he turned the knob marked with 'cold' counterclockwise, and led his fingers embraced the fresh chill the running water provided. He washed his face gently for a few moments, and grabbed the face towel Ms. Biller had placed for him as he turned off the running water.
And then the sound of someone entering the beads curtain caught him off guard.
Note:
First of all, thanks for reading my work.
Not going to lie: this is my first time trying to come up with… something – please pretend that the grammar mistakes are not there, Thanks. The OCs are really just there so things can happen…don't mind them. And in case people might be wondering, Harry is not going to become dark or addicted to something.
Again, thank you so much for reading!!! Please review if you like the story.