Not From this Reality Book 1

Chapter 21

My house is big. I knew my mother was rich but I didn't know how rich her family had been. From my script, I remembered we had a small house in California. This house seemed bigger than Malfoy Manor. Not nearly as big as Hogwarts but still pretty big. It made me feel small in comparison. Even my room felt huge. I hate it. But I also love it at the same time. My room has a walk in closet, a king size bed with green bed sheets, a couple of mahogany dressers, and it's own bathroom. 

I put my clothes from my trunk away, and look around my room. It feels like it could swallow me whole. Shadow is already asleep on my bed. There are a stack of books on a little night stand, close to the bed. I inspect them. They look like classics. The only one I recognize is The Great Gatsby. Not books I would usually read. This is probably something my DR mother set for me to read. She seems like the type of person to read these. I wrote in my script that I didn't really like classics, which is true in my real life. 

I pick the stack of books up, and then aimlessly walk through the house. Or Manor I should say. The house is actually called Lafoi Manor. As I've been told by my DR mother. I vaguely remember moving here. I've learned that I have this version of me's memories. But all of them are very vague. Like I can see glimpses of those memories. 

I somehow end up at the Manor's library, which is also huge. Rows, and rows of shelves filled with books line the room from floor to ceiling. Most of the books look ancient but I can see a few that look like they were made in this era. I walked down the lines of shelves randomly putting the books I have in my hands, away. The library seems to not have a system to how the books are organized. Actually they might be organized but some of the titles I cannot read. Some are in Latin, Greek and even Hebrew. All three languages that I cannot read or speak. I have tried to learn Greek but I didn't continue it due to my lack of concentration and procrastination. I should ask Hermione if we could study together. 

"Your mother is going to fight you over where you place those books." I turn my head to the female voice. I find a girl about my age, maybe a bit older, with blonde hair and bright violet eyes, staring at me and standing in the doorway.

My mouth goes dry as I suddenly don't know what to say. "I-I.... She's going to argue with me anyway. Wh-who are you?" 

The girl gives me a sad smile. "You don't remember me?" I shake my head. "Well I suppose you were little when I first met you. I'm Merliah Lafoi." 

"Fe-Felicity." I reply. 

"I know who you are." 

"What are you doing here?" I ask, trying not to sound rude. 

"My mother is finishing up some work with Mandy about the house. So she can legally live here." I look at her confused. 

"Mother said this was her childhood home." 

"It is technically, since she spent all her time here with my Uncle. My Uncle gave her this house." My brain becomes even more confused. Then something hits me. 

"My mothers maiden name isn't actually Lafoi, is it?" The girl smiles and shakes her head. 

"Now you got it. My Uncle is your mother's late husband." I gulp. I was always told that Lafoi was her maiden name. 

"She never told me. What is her maiden name?" 

Merliah shrugs. "Potter. I think you have a Potter in your year, don't you?" That's why Pettigrew said "Potter" when he was addressing me. That makes so much more sense now. And that's why Harry and I look so much alike.  

"Y-yeah. Harry. Mr. Bigshot of the school." I roll my eyes but internally laugh. I know Harry, mostly, doesn't want the fame he has. 

"His father is your Uncle. Or was anyway." She explains.