Landlord ch.2

"Thank you, once again," she said, looking with deep relief. She suddenly stood still. "Let me go grab my things really quickly, I think it's going to rain and I don't want to go outside in it."

Harry nodded and watched as she walked away.

It all still felt so surreal and strangely unsettling to see her standing up, recalling how tall she was only reinforced by that feeling.

As she stepped back outside, Harry felt a slight panic wash over him. It was extremely rare for him to have people he cared about around. Usually, people from his life would barge in unannounced and get offended that they had to ask for permission, or it would be Ron's siblings, who were often loud, messy, and rude.

So, what was he supposed to do here?

He would be the first to admit that he didn't have the best grasp of social norms. He preferred direct, open conversations when it came to difficult or uncomfortable things, and although he could hold a decent conversation, he was terrible at small talk. Although that was never a problem with Daphne, so why was he so nervous? Probably because she was in his home, and he was in an emotionally unfamiliar place. As much as he felt good about the whole situation, he still had this uneasy feeling that he might have made a big mistake.

Sitting back on the couch to avoid making a mess, he waited and tried to relax until Daphne returned with her backpack and briefcase.

"That's all I managed to grab," she said as she closed the door and took off her shoes. "I'm surprised I thought to grab them. I guess even as dazed and angry as I was, I knew enough to take the bare minimum I'd need to function for a few days." She placed the briefcase and backpack next to the chair and then sat back down next to him. "I also realized that I actually forgot to finish my story. I'm so scattered right now... anyway, they actually agreed to let me work from home."

"Really?" he replied.

"Yes. And that's why I think they're going to fire me. That, and just the way the conversation went, the kind of satisfied resignation that crossed my boss's face after he asked me to leave his office so he could talk to higher-ups. I think they simply decided, 'Screw this bitch, she's more trouble than she's worth, give her what she wants, and we'll find a replacement.' Honestly, it's a joke on them. I'm the hardest-working person in the finance department and I keep many people in line... sorry if that sounds arrogant," she said, hesitating.

"I believe it. You've always been very competent during our time working together," Harry replied.

"Thanks," she muttered, and he could swear she blushed. Or maybe it was just the lighting. "But this will just be another example of power-hungry assholes actually firing good employees and screwing around just because I, quite reasonably, don't want to put up with stupid bullshit. The only reason they don't want people working from home is that they can't control and micromanage the shit out of us... oh damn, here I go again. It's impolite. Tell me about what happened to you since our last conversation, catch me up," she said, favoring him with one of her lovely smiles that seemed absolutely genuine.

"Uh, well... my life has been pretty eventful since you left, for about three months or so, and by that time, I was getting really desperate. I don't know if you know, initially, I stayed at the Weasleys', but when I had a falling out with Ginny, I managed to convince Ron to rent an apartment together. I lived with him for a while, moved out after someone broke in and stole half the food in our fridge."

"They stole your food?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. It's as ridiculous as it sounds. I had my doubts, but then I got sick and stayed home, and then some of his friends 'broke in' to raid the fridge again. They had a key. They were let in. That was the last straw. I moved in with a coworker who wanted to split the rent. I thought, why not? Within a week, problems started. The guy had four cats, including two Kneazles, in a two-bedroom apartment, and then he got a dog, a magical breed at that. And he never cleaned anything. Honestly, I could have dealt with it, you know, a few freshening charms, some runes in the doorway to keep the smells out. But then he got fired and couldn't find another job, and it became clear that he wasn't even trying... well, now I'm complaining," Harry said, chuckling reluctantly.

"I think we deserve a little complaining," Daphne replied.

"Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, around that time, when I moved out and started looking for some runic-related work. Anything. You know, it was that moment when I went to a Muggle programming course, hoping their problem-solving perspective would help, but that was just the beginning. I tried to start a runic career since I was nineteen and made no real progress. I had this... I don't know, you could call it a moment of clarity. I was sitting in my new bedroom, smelling like cat litter, it was midnight, and I couldn't sleep. I had work at 8 a.m. the next day, I got a new job at a Hippogriff breeding farm... I was a bit terrified, but also feeling utterly hopeless, like it was never going to get better, and I was going to live in a series of terrible apartments with awful roommates, working a job I hated for shitty pay, and... I was staring at my runic board, trying to work on my personal runic project, and I got stuck, and it just hit me. Like everything suddenly vanished..."

"You know that moment in a book when someone... has an epic realization, and the camera slowly zooms in on their shocked face as the sound fades?" Daphne nodded. "It was like that feeling. I tried so many things over the years to get a foot in the door, to start a runic career, to make something happen, but none of them ever felt... I don't know, right. Like I was piecing together a puzzle and could never see the bigger picture it was supposed to form. And then, suddenly, I saw it. And I knew, or at least had an inkling, of the pieces I was missing."

"So... what were you missing?" she asked, leaning forward slightly. Harry had to fight the sudden, almost overwhelming urge to glance down at her shirt. She was wearing a low-cut t-shirt, and her impressive breasts looked even more impressive than ever.

"It's really hard to describe," he replied. "I think it was less about 'what' and more about 'how.' Less of a checklist of things to do and more... I don't know, a way of thinking, a framing. I was approaching it wrong, or at least wrong for me. I still don't fully understand it, and I don't even know if it's correct. But I do know that part of it was that at some point, I stopped believing that I could ever become a rune crafter. I didn't even realize I believed it until that moment when I sat there, feeling like I was looking at my whole life. It kind of shook me awake."

"I started hunting for anything related to runes. I found some old journals where people wrote down their ideas that were never brought to life. Old books, new runemaster magazines. I started selling my own runic designs, initially through connections, eventually... Well, I decided to give up on trying to find a company or get a Gringotts pass and started going the independent route. That's when I made the breakthrough."

Daphne reached out and placed her hand on his leg. It was a subtle gesture, friendly, and she did it so smoothly that he almost wondered if she even realized it. Although he wasn't sure how, because her hand on his leg was electrifying.

"What was the breakthrough?" she asked.

He struggled to regain composure, still gazing into her incredibly clear, bright blue eyes. "Well, I found out that there's... a certain demand for runic equipment that you can create, and there's a huge, hungry market for it. You probably won't get rich doing it just for law-abiding folks, but theoretically, I could scrape together enough money to 'pay the bills'."

"What was it?"

"It was..." he hesitated, struggling. He had never actually told anyone this part. Well, no, that was a lie. He had told one person. And they reacted well to it, but still. It wasn't something you talked about in polite company, and although he was finding that he still felt quite comfortable.

Around Daphne, (surprisingly, he managed to smoothly transition into a fluid conversation even after almost a year apart), it still felt very awkward.

"I created runes for, um..." He struggled with the thought of how to bypass telling her what exactly he had created, or more precisely, what they were used for, and then when he couldn't come up with anything, he tried to think of an appropriate lie.

But Daphne was sharp.

A look of delight, slightly mischievous delight, appeared on her face. "These are erotic toys for women, right?" she asked. Her hand was still on his leg, though she slowly withdrew it as he shifted uncomfortably.

"Um..."

"Oh my God, they are! You make magical vibrators!" she exclaimed and burst into cheerful laughter. "I'm not laughing at you!" she quickly added when she saw how red his face had become. "I'm sorry, Harry, I'm not... I'm not laughing at you. I think it's amazing! And... interesting."

"Amazing and interesting," he replied, feeling more than a bit defensive.

"Yes." She composed herself quickly, letting out just one more little giggle, but she couldn't seem to shake off the small smile. "I'm not mocking you, Harry. I mean it. Honestly, I respect it. I just find it... well, I don't know. You don't seem like the type, I guess. There's something quite amusing about the thought of one of the most unconventional rune board creators I know bringing vibrators to life for witches."

"Erotics, erotic toys, that's the technical term," he muttered. "Erotic toys, then. And again, not in a bad way. And, I mean," she glanced around the living room, "it must work, right?"

"It's... kind," he replied. "Go on."

"Okay, so months go by. I take every damn job I can get. I start building a decent reputation in the shops on Knockturn Alley. It's mind-numbing work, especially when I'm doing custom orders, but it starts adding up. Ten Galleons for one piece, twenty for another, I get paid for creating assorted magical gadgets for a certain playroom in a brothel, and if I can make them in a week, I'll get two hundred Galleons. I manage to do it. Barely. But it was like... real money. I kept pushing and pushing, driving myself crazy, doing the work in every spare moment because as forgettable and pathetic as the work might be, it still absolutely beat the soul-sucking shit job I had since Hogwarts."

"That's quite incredible. It must have been a lot of work," she replied.

"It was. I started looking for another way to make money through runic crafting, but you know, goblins put a lot of effort into making sure I couldn't find a job anywhere in the magical world.

"What have you created so far?" Daphne asked. It was strange to see her so interested in this. It was also uncomfortable, but in a sense... pleasant.

Harry chuckled awkwardly. "Well, you know, just... ordinary things. For now, simple toys are customized in various ways.