Landlord ch.9

"I have one more question," Harry said as they stood together in the bathroom, drying themselves.

He stayed in the shower to give her more room in the bathroom, as she needed the space to move around.

"Damn," she replied, vigorously rubbing her bright blond hair. It was only a few years ago that Harry found out girls don't use the drying spell because it makes their hair frizzy.

"That's not an easy question," he said after a moment of hesitation.

"Go ahead," she replied.

"Okay. Why do you worry so much about your stomach? I mean, I feel like weight is a serious issue for many people, and I know many women struggle with it, but... it really bothered you last night. I just... don't understand."

She sighed softly and took the towel off her head, then looked down at her long, sensual, pale body. "So basically, it's a given that all wizards gain weight. Magic makes some of us not even bother getting up to pour ourselves tea. Very few wizards care about their appearance, right? Well... I've gained thirty pounds since you last saw me. And... my ex-fiancé noticed. You know, Malfoy still plays Quidditch, and it shows in his physique. It wasn't just that he noticed, he yelled it at me when we fought about the breakup. He told me I've become fucking fat - but it wasn't the first time he mentioned it. He often brought it up in various ways. I should watch what I eat, I should exercise more, what I wear isn't flattering, my stomach is starting to show..."

She fell silent, and he looked at her, feeling a terrible, pitiful empathy for her because it must have been the worst thing to hear from someone you're planning to marry. He expected her to say something else, but she didn't. She just looked down, dejected.

"Daphne," Harry said, feeling like he had to say something.

"Yes?" she replied softly, slowly lifting her head.

"I... I really don't know what I can do to make you feel better, but... I mean, you look great. I didn't even realize you had gained weight, and honestly, it shouldn't matter. I mean, I understand you have health goals and you might want to look a certain way, but... come on. You need to realize he was a bloody arse, even back in Hogwarts, and he hasn't changed much, right?"

"I don't know, most of my significant partners have done that. Or something similar. That's just how relationships work. Nobody's perfect."

"Daphne, there's a difference between being imperfect and constantly demeaning your partner. It's not normal. And if it is, it shouldn't be. I just... want you to believe that you're attractive."

"I believe you," she said, looking at him more intently now. "Last night. I cried a bit when we started having sex. It's because you made me believe it, and I realized it was the first time in a long while that I truly felt that way, and even more time has passed since someone tried to make me feel that way. But it started fading... I'm sorry, Harry, I'm not trying to take away what you said, but it's just hard for me to believe it's anything other than a fleeting feeling of hunger. I mean, my weight gain is pretty evident, and it's getting harder and harder for me to lose weight. I'm almost thirty-five now, and it was much easier when you were younger..."

"It's not obvious, Daphne," Harry said, feeling a bit desperate. She seemed so resigned. He suddenly stepped out of the bathtub and approached her, pulling her into a tight hug. She hesitated before returning the embrace. "You're truly beautiful, and I don't think that just because we're shagging or because I wanted to sleep with you."

"You've been fantasizing about me for a whole year. Yeah, no way that influenced your perception of me or anything..." she muttered. "Harry, don't worry about it. You shouldn't. I already have enough trust issues with you."

"Not at all. You're my friend and a good person, and it's worth discussing," he replied firmly, looking at her.

She looked at him, apparently momentarily lost for words. "Wow," she finally mumbled, "I... I don't know what to say. It never happened to me that someone fought for me like this. Okay," she said, smiling, "I believe you. Just... She lost her smile and averted her gaze. "Being cheated on usually destroys your self-esteem..."

"I'm sorry that happened, Daphne," he replied, hugging her again.

She sighed heavily. "I am too... we should finish drying ourselves."

He nodded, and they parted ways, completing the task. Once they were done, they hung their towels and headed to the bedroom, where they began getting dressed. She put her shirt back on, then hesitated before picking up her shorts again. "I guess I made a mess in these," she mumbled. "Should we keep our laundry separate?"

"I don't care," Harry replied. "Great." She tossed the shorts she had an intense orgasm in last night into the mostly empty hamper in the corner, while he dressed and then left the bottomless room. He watched her walk away, staring at her ample backside. After a moment, she returned with her backpack and pulled out sweatpants.

"Going commando again?" he asked.

"Might as well," she replied, slipping into the baggy gray sweatpants. "Sorry, I know they're not the sexiest, but..."

"They're very sexy, Daphne," he replied. Harry was starting to realize that Daphne might have more issues than he initially thought. It was strange to see her in such a state, so... vulnerable and unsettled, sensitive and full of fear. She always seemed composed and self-assured, like an ice queen, when they talked back in Hogwarts or at work.

It seems like another layer of a strange unreality.

Suddenly, something crossed his mind that worried him. "Okay, one more question related to your appearance... you had trouble taking off your shirt last night, but you didn't have any trouble during the massage..."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "You weren't looking at my intestines, Harry, just at my boobs. And I was trying to seduce you. Which was harder than it should have been.

"You just had to ask," he replied. "I didn't want to ask, I wanted you to get on top of me. And eventually, I did ask.

"I don't know... I really don't know how to approach women without it being weird."

She pondered that for a moment, then shrugged. "I can't say one way or the other, I've never seen you getting it on with someone. Her stomach growled. "Can we have breakfast?"

"Yes, I'll make something," he answered as he finished getting dressed and walked out of the bedroom.

"That's sweet," she said, following him. "Well, you're my guest..." She hesitated, pausing for a moment as they passed through the kitchen, and something crappy crossed his mind. "Damn," he muttered, then quickly covered the remaining distance and opened the fridge.

"What?"

"I never got the chance to do grocery shopping. I have... basically nothing.

"Well, let's go for breakfast, I can pay," she replied, then stopped uncertainly. "I mean, if that's not weird for you or anything.

"It does make me feel a bit weird, well, I think embarrassed is a more fitting word, but I also had to become practical. At this point, I imagine you have more money than I do, so if you're offering, I'll accept."

She smiled. "Alright then... that was easy. It's something I really like about you, Harry. Everything with you is... easy." She pursed her lips. "Well, most things. It was hard to squeeze sex out of you.

"Again, all you had to do was ask!" he replied as they walked into the living room.

"And I said I didn't want to... forget it, can't you see the charm in someone wanting to be inside you?" she retorted as she started putting on her shoes.

"Of course I do," he replied, taking out his phone. He opened the restaurant app and sent it on a search. "I get it. It's just... you definitely have the power there. You're more experienced and much more attractive."

"Hmm," that was all she replied. She reached for her coat and put it on, then looked out the window. "The rain has stopped, but it's still very gray outside.

"Probably very cold too," Harry grumbled. The app chimed, giving him the information. "Looks like there's a Muggle café a few minutes away from here. I've never been there, but if you're up for something new, we can check it out."

"I don't mind," she replied. "Sounds perfect."

He put on his shoes and coat, she grabbed her purse, and they stepped out. Closing the door behind them, he offered to drive and they got into his car. Another one of his debts. He got it two years ago and was still paying it off. At the rate he was managing, he would still be paying for it for about another year.

He had to buckle down and write that piece of crap.

Thoughts swirled in his head as he pulled out of the driveway and started driving through the gray, wet streets of London towards the café. It was cold outside, but not freezing yet. There hadn't been any snow this year, but it wouldn't be surprising if it happened within the next few weeks or even days. He wasn't looking forward to it. Although... why not? He didn't have a job anymore, nowhere to be, no reason to navigate treacherous roads or face the icy wind.

Harry focused on his work. He still had a few paid assignments on his list. Some he had to complete before midnight today. He wasn't overly worried about them; they were easy, something he could finish in a few hours if he concentrated. And he discovered a wealth of not only ideas but also inspiration that was coming to him now that he was involved with Daphne.

Nevertheless, he had some work to do today. Probably after breakfast and a trip to the grocery store.

But something else suddenly popped into his mind, another unfortunate something he wanted to ask about.

Should he? They were having a nice time, and there were enough troubles awaiting her in the upcoming days...

"You want to ask me something, don't you?" she asked.

He glanced at her briefly, then back at the road, taken aback. "How the fuck do you know that?"

"I've always been good at reading people, but it was also a lucky guess. Okay, I don't mind being asked questions. I think it's fair, considering you opened your home to me. Especially since you did it on the day you moved in."

He hesitated, but only for a moment. "Fine. When we first talked about what went wrong, you kept saying 'again.' That you'd have to pick up the pieces again. And deal with all that shit again. Does that mean you've been cheated on before?"

She sighed long and discontentedly. "Yes. My first husband. I was eighteen. Our parents arranged the marriage, and they pushed for it. I agreed. He... had issues. But I decided to fall in love. One day, I came home early from my internship, and he was there. He was screwing some Muggle brunette in our bed." "I'm sorry," Harry said quietly.

She sighed and hugged herself, leaning slightly forward in the seat. "Yes, me too. I hate thinking about it. Of course, it was the end. Everything fell apart. I was doing my internship back then, working and wanting to have our own place, well, our own apartment... it was almost impossible to make everything work after that event. But I managed. Somehow, I managed to finish the internship and have my own place."

"I still have no idea how anyone could cheat on you," he replied after a moment.

"Anyone can be deceived," she muttered softly, resting her head against the window, gazing at the passing buildings, people, and roads. "Celebrities. Politicians. Quidditch stars. Models. For many reasons. His reason... I don't even remember the stupid nonsense he mumbled because I don't care, but it was obvious that he couldn't handle me." She paused and suddenly looked at him, grimacing. "God, I sound really fucking arrogant. Do you think I'm arrogant?"

"Well, I don't think so," Harry replied. "But I'm also very biased when it comes to you, so I might not be the best person to ask?"

"It sounds like I'm full of myself, even to me, when I say things like that, but it's fucking true. I don't know what the hell it is, but something in me just... attracts certain men to me, and then makes them, fucking hell, lose their minds. I've talked about it with many other women, I've been in therapy, and it always comes back to my height and my career. There are many men who don't want to feel 'weak,' and I just... I'm good at what I do, I earn well, and I work hard. But seriously, it has a lot to do with how tall I am."