A betrayal of a different type

Chapter 7

Harry would've loved to say that the meeting was perfect. That everything went according to plan. I'm very sorry to say that he forgot about the wee little thing called being, 'HARRY POTTER'. Poor guy.

It started out by Harry deciding he wanted to explore the Manor by himself. He had asked Milly for general directions, before sending her off to do her duties. Now, Harry wandered around the red and gold, empty halls trying to find this Gallery and inspecting any interesting rooms he found meanwhile.

From what he knew, according to Milly, Potter Manor had 4 floors. The first floor held the ballroom, dining hall, the guest lounge, the family lounge and the kitchen. The second floor had the master study, the master bedroom and 20 other bedrooms. It also had three nurseries and a playroom. The third floor held the duelling chambers, library, indoor games, an indoor pool, a muggle section where magic was shielded against, 5 studies and the gallery. The fourth floor was the rooftop with a small garden and picnic place. Harry wasn't stunned after seeing the wealth his family had owned, but it felt too much to the boy, who had once slept in the cupboard under the stairs. Especially, when he was the only human who currently lived here. He made his way to the second floor without a problem, but it seemed like the staircases were scattered throughout the house, as if the creator wanted to make a convoluted version of hide and seek. Now he faced the daunting, and extremely serious challenge of finding the other staircase. "I've survived Voldemort 5 times. I've beaten a basilisk for Merlin's sake! A little staircase and floors of ancestry is nothing," he mumbled. But how could it be easy when the Potters are involved?

The first thing Harry had noticed about the second floor had been the difference in the hallways. They were a light shade of cream with intricate designs carved into it. The floor was of a modest, polished hardwood style. What remained the same were the empty portraits. In all, it was much simpler and homelier than the first floor, something that he could actually bear to live in and not lose his mind in the elegance. Harry supposed that the first floor was mainly for guests and functions and was made to show off. The upper floors were intimate, had the charm of being used.

What Harry first came upon, was very the room he had slept in. He wondered how he hadn't noticed this when he came down, and chalked it up to disorientation and being lost in thought. Barely giving it a glance, he went ahead, stumbling upon the master study. The study was a nice shade of soft brown and orange. It was serene. There was a huge desk with trinkets and papers littered on top of it, and a couple of drawers with a few nice, snug looking armchairs. Nearby, an used fireplace sat with some unburnt firewood still present. There was also a set of sofas, with a centre table upon a fluffy rug. There was a bookshelf lining the wall, and the rest of the walls played home to four empty portraits and one picture of lush green scenery. Harry scrutinized each and everything, but did not dare touch a thing, afraid of disturbing the leftover ambience of the study. He hesitated before leaving. There would be other opportunities to explore. Right now, the Gallery was more important, and exploring everything his eyes caught a fancy to would take days.

This time, he came across the other bedrooms. There was one labelled 'Sirius's room' where Sirius was crossed out, and Padfoot was written in black ink, which he avoided completely. He was in no state to go down that particular memory lane anytime soon. The room opposite to that was labelled 'James's room'.Unlike his best friend's, James Potter's name plate was left untouched. After a moment of demur, Harry entered this room.

It was most predictably, coloured a vibrant and brash red and gold. The combination worked surprisingly well, in a flamboyant manner. The four poster bed was placed just before a terrace, which overlooked the grounds. The floor was carpeted reddish brown. The drawers and desk were kept neat. The room was almost bare of personal possessions, save for 2 objects on the desk. Harry guessed that his father must have cleared out his things while moving, and may have left these behind or simply forgotten to take them along. Harry tried not to feel a pang of sadness at having less of the objects, that had belonged to his parents. Gently, Harry probed at the objects. One of them seemed like a photograph he forgotten to take with him. In it were 3 people. One of them was a man who was an aristocratic, yet warm looking figure with Harry's hair. His robes and hair were windswept. He grinned like Harry's father did, from what Harry could tell from pictures. His eyes were a strong, storm grey. His arm was around a woman who, also appeared to come from aristocracy, yet had much softer features. Her hair was deep auburn, almost brown, her mischievous, hazel eyes looking joyfully at him through the picture. A younger version of James Potter seemed to be jumping up and down in excitement, as what Harry realised, were his grandparents, who laughed at his antics. The other object was the toy snitch, which Harry remembered was from his trip to Snape's pensieve, last year. He quickly pocketed it.