Harry dropped his head into his hands and stared down at the oak desk.

It was large. Grand, even.

And currently cluttered beyond belief with parchment, documents and letters strewn all about.

He'd inherited it along with the company, and every time he sat behind it, it just felt right.

He only wished he felt the same about the job he was doing.

"Well…you're making progress, I see," came a voice in the doorway.

Harry looked up to find Tracey standing there, and he immediately put his quill down and settled back in his chair. He'd been trying to make sense of the pooled trust fund's ledger for the past several minutes and was thrilled at any opportunity for a reprieve. "How can you tell?" he said.

With a cup of coffee floating in front of her, she walked into the room and lowered it onto the only bare spot on the desk. "There were three large stacks of paperwork yesterday," she said as she plopped down onto a chair.

"Yeah, I've just divided them into fifty little ones," Harry said, picking up the mug and inhaling deeply before taking a sip. "Ahh…what would I do without you?"

"Me or the coffee?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

He looked at her over the mug. "Good question," he said, taking another sip. "Thanks for this. It was very much needed."

She nodded. "Figured as much."

The entire morning thus far had been spent with Harry trying to match the ledger with the leases, and it was not going well.

When the initial proposition had been made for him to inherit his grandfather's property management company, it had been an easy decision to make. It was a remnant of his family, a part of the Potter name that didn't have to do with war and bloodshed. And he wanted to keep it alive and running for as long as he could. So he'd sacked the company that had been looking after it in the interim, and proceeded to take over the portfolio on his own.

But he was only just realizing how foolish he'd been to think it would be an easy transition.

Placing his mug down on the desk, Harry turned back to his work, rifling through a stack of ledgers. "'It's a simple business…'list the property, rent the property', he said," Harry muttered under his breath.

In theory, it really should have been.

In theory, the rental amount would be able to match the corresponding deposit, and the money held in trust would match the stated deposits on the lease.

But unit A201 was leased for 240 galleons, 16 sickles while the rent deposited was 267 galleons, 1 sickle. The tenants had been paying an extra 27 galleons (and 15 sickles) for the past eight months, and he hadn't the faintest idea why.

Which would've been great…

Except for the fact that–according to his crash course in property management–the amount stated on the lease, the amount collected, and the amount held in trust all had to match.

Or else…something.

Harry wasn't too clear on that part yet, but he knew it was bad.

And so far, 63 of the 83 units of his first building definitely did not match.

Letting out a loud exhale, Harry rubbed his forehead before glancing up at Tracey. "I think I'm way in over my head here."

"That much was obvious from the start, yes," she said, nodding.

"Thank you," he said. "What would I do without your ego-bursting candour?"

She beamed.

Despite his sarcasm, it was, in fact, the major reason he'd asked her to come along on this harebrained journey with him.

Before inheriting the company, Harry had spent his post-Hogwarts years training to become an Auror–more out of expectation than actual desire.

Everyone had assumed it would be his chosen path after the war, and he'd been too young and naïve to consider otherwise. And while there were definitely aspects of the job he'd enjoyed, a life of constant risk and danger wasn't something he truly wanted for himself.

Normalcy was what he craved. Peace and quiet.

Despite it all, Harry never regretted the years he'd spent in the Auror Academy. He'd learned more than his fair share and was able to form an unlikely but long-lasting friendship with Tracey Davis–who, like him, realized that she wasn't meant for a career with the Aurors.

"Look, if it's really that bad, why not just hire an accountant?" Tracey said with a shrug. "All this ledger rubbish is like crack to them. And an opportunity to work with Harry Potter? You'll have people queued up."

Harry frowned. "An…accountant?" he said, testing the word out. He'd never considered hiring anyone else besides Tracey, but…it made sense. Paying someone to do all the laborious work for him? "That's–that's bloody brilliant!"

Shooting up from his desk, Harry made his way towards her and enveloped her in a quick hug. "I'm so happy, I could kiss you right now!"

"Yeah, how about no," she said at once, disentangling herself and putting a hand up. "Personal space, Potter."

He was too thrilled to care, grinning at the prospect of never having to look at another ledger again.

"Just one issue, though," he said as he flipped through his calendar. "I'm completely swamped for the next few days. So…would you be able to advertise the position and interview people?"

"Me?" Tracey said, sitting up from her slouched position. "I'm just the receptionist–"

"Not anymore, you're not. I've just promoted you to Office Manager!" Harry said, cutting her off with a big smile. "And right now, your top priority is to hire an accountant. You get to choose who you'll be working with! Isn't that great?"

She glared at him as he patted her on the shoulder. "Oh, it's brilliant."

With renewed energy and confidence, Harry sat back at his desk and took a deep breath in.

It was all getting back on track now.

He'd keep the properties rented and look after the company while Tracey would take care of all the details, as she always did. And the new accountant would get the books in order and keep them that way.

"Let's grab a pint after work," Harry said as she got up to leave. "We can celebrate your promotion."

"Right. Promotion," Tracey said in a flat voice. "Office Manager for a staff of one."

Grabbing his coffee, Harry smiled at her. "I'm sure that will change. We're just getting started, you'll see. One day, we'll have an entire staff working for us," he said, leaning back in his chair and staring off into the distance as he envisioned it. "But for now…Potter Investments and Management of Properties party at Lee's after work?"

At this, Tracey couldn't help but chuckle. "We'll save the PIMP party for another time," she said. "I'm too tired to travel all the way down to the pub after work tonight. I'd much prefer an evening of mindlessly watching telly with my cat curled up next to me on the couch."

He shrugged. "Your loss," he said. "But I'll be there if you change your mind."

x-x-x

Harry walked down the stairs of the office building to the ground floor where Lee Jordan had opened his establishment several weeks before. The banner reading Lee's Pub Grand Opening! was still hanging behind the bar.

The office building Harry had chosen to lease for the Potter Investments and Management of Properties headquarters (or the PIMP, as Tracey affectionately dubbed it) was situated in a large multi-level building that consisted of several other businesses.

On the ground floor was Lee's pub, followed by the PIMP on the second. On the third floor was Felix & Felicity's Felix Felicis Therapy Services - a new private practice subsidized by the Ministry's recent mental health initiative. And on the fourth and final floor, was…The Fourth Floor.

Nobody actually knew who worked up there and for what purpose, but it was rumoured to belong to a group of Unspeakables. Unlike the other floors, there was no name in the directory. It was simply labelled, 'The Fourth Floor'.

All in all, it was a nice little set-up. Having a pub right below all the offices served as a great mechanism to let off a bit of steam after work.

And Harry definitely needed to let off some steam today.

Though he'd solved the issue with the accountant, he couldn't deny that there were still several other things that needed figuring out. It was clear that, unlike the Potter quidditch genes, property management wasn't something that was coming naturally to him. But he hoped that would change soon.

Things were definitely looking up and it was something to celebrate.

"Oi, Lee," Harry said, getting the man's attention. "You still need that banner, or can I use it for a small party I'm having here later this week?"

Lee looked over his shoulder at the banner. "All yours, mate," he said, taking a rag out to wipe the bar. "What are you celebrating?"

"Successfully surviving the first week of my new business," Harry said.

"Definitely a feat, yeah," he said through a chuckle. "But hang in there, Harry. It always gets worse just before it gets better."

Harry shot him a grateful smile. "Yeah, I suppose so," he said with a nod.

"As for the banner…" Lee said, turning around and waving his wand with a flourish. "There. I've lowered the defensive charm to let you in. You wouldn't believe what a bit of drink and free access to a large banner could do to a person. I had to put up some protections to maintain the dignity of this establishment."

With a laugh, Harry thanked him and took a seat on one of the stools as Lee passed him his usual drink after work.

Out of the corner of his eye, he felt someone approach and turned to see a familiar brunette take a seat next to him.

"Hey, Harry."

"Daphne," he said with a bob of his head. "I thought Tracey said she was going home to her cats after work?"

She nodded. "Yes, but contrary to popular belief, we're allowed to do things without each other."

With an embarrassed smile, Harry shook his head. "I just meant…usually it's only employees of the building here right after the work day."

The corner of Daphne's mouth turned up in amusement. "Harry…I've been working here for the past eight months."

He'd taken a drink at that moment, and it immediately went down the wrong pipe. "Sorry," he said through a cough. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Erm…what?"

"I work on the fourth floor," she said, smiling at Lee as he handed her a drink. "Did Tracey never tell you?"

"Well, no…" he said. "She's usually too busy talking about herself."

Daphne shrugged as if to say 'fair enough'. "Yes, well, it's either that–"

"Or her cats," they both said together.

Harry grinned before shifting his eyes down to his glass again. He'd never really sat with Daphne for any extended period of time, and if they had, Tracey was always with them. Harry was just now beginning to realise that he really didn't know much about her.

"So…am I allowed to ask what happens on the fourth floor?" he said. "Or is it a 'if I tell you, I have to kill you' sort of thing."

Daphne simply smiled as she leaned her head against her fist. "Am I allowed to ask why you look as though you've been run over by a herd of centaurs?"

"Ah," Harry said with a nod. "Deflection. Nice. I'll take that as a no, then."

Her smile only deepened.

"Well, in answer to your question," Harry said, not sure why he was continuing to chatter on. "It's been a rough first week for my business. Why? Do I look that bad?"

She took a sip of her drink and eyed him up and down. "Yes," she said.

Harry let out a surprised laugh. "Blimey…thanks," he said. "Makes sense why you and Tracey get on so well."

"From the little I know of you, you seem like the type of bloke that can handle a bit of honesty," Daphne said, her green eyes sparkling in the dim light of the bar. She then leaned in a bit closer. "And yes, that's a good thing."

The back of his neck grew hot as she stared at him from a closer distance. He was now twenty-seven years old, but a pretty witch with a great smile still had the remarkable and unfortunate ability to make him feel like a 4th year at Hogwarts going through puberty.

"Who knew an office job would be the monster to finally do Harry Potter in," Daphne said.

"Very funny," he said, with a good-natured smile. "I'm just settling in still. I'm sure it'll get easier."

She patted his arm before straightening back up on her stool. "We humans have a remarkable ability of adjusting to just about anything," she said. "You'll be fine in no time."

Harry felt a rush of gratitude at her words. He knew she was probably just trying to be nice, but the genuine look she gave him made a sort of calm wash over him.

"Thanks," he said with a small smile.

Daphne nodded. "And if worst comes to worst…you can always book an appointment at Felix & Felicity's," she said.

With a laugh, Harry shook his head and downed the rest of his drink.

x-x-x

Harry's door burst open, but he didn't bother looking up from his paperwork. Even though the columns and rows were starting to blur into each other, he needed to finish this before he ran out the door to do showings all afternoon for the vacant units in two of their muggle-only buildings: The Sheffield and The Pinnacle.

"I don't care what it is; I don't have time for it," Harry said, his quill furiously scratching away. "Turn around, shut the door, and let me work in peace."

Tracey continued into the room unfazed and slapped a note onto the middle of the page he was trying to make sense of.

"That's Gibbering Gail's phone number," she said, as if that meant anything to Harry. "Her faucet is leaking and she's apparently already put in four written requests for it to be fixed. If her faulty faucet isn't fixed today, the next complaint is going to be to the Council."

Blowing out a withering breath, Harry slumped forward onto his elbows. "Can't you just call someone to do it?" he asked. "Unless you want me to go Reparo it right in front of her, find someone else. I don't bloody well know how to fix faucets the muggle way!"

"Tsk, tsk," Tracey said, shaking her head. "You know Hermione's new Ministry policy better than that, Harry. Or didn't you read her latest exposition on CUM?"

He let out a sound that was a strange mixture of a groan and a laugh. "Merlin, she's pants at naming things, isn't she?" he said.

"Hey, I happen to think the Curriculum for Understanding Muggles is an excellent name," Tracey said, her mouth twitching in amusement.

"And she claims that 'PIMP; is childish," Harry said, shaking his head. "But anyway…that still doesn't help me with this faucet issue. We can't have an official complaint to the Real Estate Council in our first week of operating."

Tracey shrugged unhelpfully. "I have all my interviews lined up for today, so you'll have to find your own maintenance man."

With that, she turned on the spot and briskly walked out of the room.

Raking his fingers through his hair, Harry let out another groan. "Where am I going to find an overly helpful person on hardly any notice?" he asked the empty room.

Pulling out his laptop that he'd purchased to deal with the muggle aspects of the job, he did a quick search for nearby maintenance people.

One site popped up that looked pretty promising: Fiverr.

x-x-x

Harry leaned against the front reception desk, trying to fight the temptation to check his watch for the fifth time this minute.

Merlin, he really hoped picking the top-rated handyman on Fiverr would pay off. The bloke had to be up there for a reason, right?

The door to the office opened at precisely half-past ten, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are you Bruno?" he said before the man even had a chance to step in through the door.

Looking bewildered at the greeting, the man nodded.

"Good," Harry said before thrusting the note Tracey had given him onto his chest. "Call Gail, fix her faucet, then give Tracey the invoice," he said, jerking his thumb toward her. "We don't care about the cost, just do the job right and we may consider hiring you again."

"Er…okay," Bruno said, repeating Harry's words back to himself as though trying to remember it all.

With a quick thanks, Harry walked past him and out the door before the man could even reply.

x-x-x

Tracey watched from the receptionist's desk as Bruno stood there for a moment, still looking bewildered.

"He's rather busy, as you can probably tell," Tracey told him. "Say…do you even know how to fix faucets? He probably should have asked you that first."

Bruno cautiously made his way toward her. "I fixed many a faucet in my youth, and continue to do so regularly," he said. "I'll go and do that right after my walk if you want? I can come back to drop off the invoice when I'm done?"

"Works for me if it works for you," Tracey said, blowing a bubble with her gum and then popping it loudly.

It was at that moment that the door opened again, this time to reveal a well dressed middle-aged man. He paused, holding it open as he read the sign that Tracey posted on it earlier. "Closed Friday at 2pm for PIMP party at Lee's Establishment," he read aloud. "Sounds like a good time."

Bruno covered his mouth to hide what sounded like a squeak. "PIMPPLE," he said, giggling into his hand.

"Not PIMPPLE," the other man admonished. "PIMP party at Lee's Establishment. There's nothing wrong with the Potter Investments & Management of Properties having a good time at Lee's bar. After all, he's a good bloke and he runs a great bar."

Tracey gave Bruno a look of disapproval. "The PIMP demands a certain level of decorum," she said. "You may have only been hired for a quick maintenance job, but you're still representing our name out there."

"In other words, don't screw it up, innit?" the other man said with an amused look.

With one eyebrow raised, Tracey turned towards him instead. "Name?"

"Todney Stewart," he said, sticking his hand out. "But you can call me Tod."

Tracey looked down at the clipboard in her hands and then nodded. "Right this way," she said, leading him towards a row of chairs outside the conference room where a few other candidates were already sitting. "Bruno–what Tod said. Don't screw this up. Gibbering Gail's address is on my desk. We'll see you later."

x-x-x

"So, tell me about yourself," Tracey said, staring at the woman across the table from her, who looked to be in her early thirties. Her hair was pulled back in a perfectly slicked bun, not a single strand out of place. Her fingernails were neatly manicured, and her clothes perfectly ironed without a wrinkle or crease in sight.

"My first career in Finance was a part-time job at Flourish & Blotts, where I was responsible for bookkeeping and payroll," she said in a flat voice. "I then went on to complete an internship in the Ministry's Department of Financial and Professional Regulation and proceeded to work there for five years where my duties consisted of…"

Though Tracey tried hard to stay focused, something about the woman's voice was making her feel drowsy. She'd been hoping for something a bit more…engaging? A single personality trait to grasp onto besides "dull".

But alas. There was nothing.

After several minutes of recounting every line of her resume in mind-numbing detail, Monotone Mary fell silent.

"Cool, cool, er…" Tracey said, nodding slowly before looking back down at her clipboard. "What's your biggest weakness?"

Monotone Mary paused for a second. "My biggest weakness is that I can be too much of a perfectionist…"

x-x-x

"Can you describe your previous work experience?" Tracey said, immensely glad to be done with the previous interview. She was hopeful about this next bloke, seeing as he didn't immediately drain her will to live the moment he opened his mouth.

The man nodded zealously. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. So," he began in a booming voice, his blinding white teeth forcing Tracey to look away. "As a financial operations manager–"

She frowned as she looked down at Zealous Zeke's resume. "You mean…cashier?"

"Yes, well, I was responsible for handling the commodity accepted by general consent as a medium of economic exchange–"

"Money…?"

"And providing a written acknowledgement of having received, or taken into one's possession, a specified amount of money, goods, etc–"

She let out a long sigh. "A receipt."

x-x-x

"...and then I gave the dog a spoonful of peanut-butter like she suggested and lo' and behold, he was obsessed. Probably would've eaten the entire jar if I hadn't stepped in! I'd contemplated crunchy or smooth but ultimately went with smooth. And it seemed like the right choice, thank Merlin. But anyway…" Chatterbox Charlie said, pausing to take a breath. "What was the question again?"

Tracey blinked a few times as she stared at him. "What drew you to this company?"

x-x-x

"And…um…I think….um…I think my strength is…um…communication."

Tracey crossed off the name on her clipboard with a flourish.

x-x-x

"How would your friends describe you?"

"...friends?"

x-x-x

Tracey rubbed her eyes as she looked down at her watch. It was almost lunchtime and so far all the candidates had been absolute shit.

There was time for one more before her break, but she pitied the poor soul who would have to deal with her hungry mood.

She looked down at her clipboard to find the next name.

Todney Stewart.

It sounded familiar. He was the bloke who'd teased the bumbling Fiverr employee earlier.

Maybe there was some hope yet.

Glancing quickly down through his application, her eyes landed on one line in particular.

Sex: Male Female other yes, please

Tracey couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. And she realized, quite tragically, that it was the first smile she'd cracked all day.

"Get in here, Tod," she said, poking her head out of the conference room.

The man nodded and stood up, a pleasant smile on his face.

"I'll try not to be too terrible so you can get to lunch as quick as possible," Tod said, taking a seat at the oval table. "Nah…who am I kidding, I'll be awesome!"

Tracey looked up at him. "Bit sure of ourselves, are we?"

"Oh, very," Tod said, unbuttoning his suit jacket with a smile. "I feel my previous work experience will make me a prime candidate for this position. I'm quick, thorough, dedicated, loyal, and very easy on the eyes."

With a frown, Tracey gave him a quick once over. "That's…highly subjective."

"Well, for an accountant, anyway."

Tracey shrugged and nodded. "Moving on," she said. "Why this job?"

"It's right above a pub and right below a shrink's office," Tod said as if it were obvious. "Everything I need wrapped up in one little building."

"Fair enough," she said, crossing off the question. "And how do you handle feedback?"

With a thoughtful look, Tod answered. "As long as it's politely scathing, I see absolutely no shame in receiving negative feedback," he said. "And if it's positive, I'll accept it in any and all forms. Seriously. I love positive feedback. Any. And. All. Forms."

Tracey couldn't hold back a supremely serene smile. She felt a certain kinship with him that took her by surprise. "What's your favourite colour?"

"Purple," Tod said without hesitation. "The colour of royalty."

"Favourite artist?"

"Taylor Swift."

Slamming her clipboard down on the table, she stuck out her hand. "You're hired."

"LET'S GO!" Tod gave her a high five as he stood up, pumping his other fist into the air.

x-x-x

The first full week of business had finally drawn to a close.

It was Friday, an accountant had been hired, he'd gotten several applications from showings, and it was time to celebrate.

The PIMP party was in full swing.

"I thought you said we'd be able to use the banner?" Tracey said, sitting in a booth across from Harry as he held his pint out in front of him.

"Oh right, Lee gave me permission, but I forgot to actually change it," he said, taking out his wand and pointing it towards the banner.

Easily slipping his wand out, he cocked his wrist forward. The letters in Grand Opening transformed into: The PIMP Party.

"You know…" Tracey said, eyeing the banner before looking back at him. "Even when Tod gets here, it'll still only be three of us. You want me to invite some people–"

"No," Harry said at once.

Tracey rolled her eyes. "I should've known you were just going to down your pint and head home as quick as possible, like you always do," she said, in that tone of voice she used to goad him. "But I'd just like to remind you that you're the head of a company now, Harry. A company where you have to interact with people. All day. Every day. For the rest of your–"

"I get it, alright," Harry said in annoyance.

Tilting her head, Tracey's lips curled as she stared at him in thought. "You sure you're up for that kind of life?" she said.

Harry let out a long sigh and rubbed his forehead. "I don't need to be an extrovert to have good social skills."

"Yes, but you do need good social skills," Tracey said. "Face it, Harry. It's not your strong suit. I'm the first friend you've made since Ron and Hermione. And that's only because we got partnered up at the Academy and I'm extremely charismatic."

"Social skills are skills. And skills can be learned," he said. "It'll just be something I have to work on."

Tracey beamed. "Great! So we'll invite some more people to our party–"

"One person," Harry corrected. "I've had a long week, Tracey. Please…let's just keep it low-key for now."

Her face dropped but she acquiesced. "Fine," she said. "How about Daphne, then?" she said, already taking out her wand to send a message.

Harry glanced up at her. "Er, yeah, sure, that's fine," he said, feeling a small thrill in his gut.

It was so silly. He'd barely ever spoken to her until the other day. And now, all of a sudden, he'd gone and developed a crush.

He really needed to get out more. His last relationship was three years ago, and before then, he didn't have much of a good record either.

Then he goes and gets one teasing look from a pretty woman, and he's gone.

"I heard you two chatted the other day," Tracey said, sipping on her cocktail.

Harry frowned, trying to read into her sentence. "Yes…the day you charismatically ditched me for your cats," he said. "Why?"

She gave an infuriating shrug.

Trust Tracey not to needlessly elaborate the one time he wanted her to.

"Did you really not know she worked here?" Tracey said with a giggle.

Feeling himself start to blush, Harry threw her a dirty look. "And whose fault is that?" he said. "You've never told me! I know more about Princess Poppyseed and Meowiarty than your own actual best friend."

"Well, sorry, you never asked! They're much cuter, anyway, they deserve more conversation time."

Harry let out a dry laugh. "That's debatable."

"Oh?" Tracey said with a sly grin. "You think Daphne is cuter?"

"Don't go twisting my words," he said, pointing a finger at her.

Tracey merely grinned widely before taking another sip.

They continued chatting for a few minutes when Daphne arrived, looking slightly less put together than usual, but still very put together.

"What's wrong?" she said to Tracey. "What's the emergency?"

"I'm bored," Tracey said, gesturing for her to sit.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "You ever hear of the boy who cried wolf?" she said, giving Harry a smile as she took the seat next to him.

"Hey," he said with a polite smile back.

"Technically, it was an emergency," Tracey said. "We're having a PIMP party without the party. Needed you to help liven it up a bit."

"Yes, because I'm always the life of every party," Daphne said.

Tracey flashed a grin. "There's a first for everything."

"Anyway…since I'm here already. Was dinner part of the PIMP party plans?" she said, looking at Harry. "I'm starved."

"Er, yeah of course," he said, glad for a reason to do something. "What can I get you guys–gals?"

Taking a quick glance up at the chalkboard menu above the bar, Daphne looked back at him. "Fish and chips for me."

"A Chipotle bowl would hit the spot, but I haven't been able to convince Lee to add it to the menu yet," Tracey said, sighing forlornly. "I'll order in a bit when I'm hungry. I ate a couple protein bars this afternoon."

Harry nodded and sent in a double order of fish and chips. After that, a short, somewhat awkward silence ensued.

"So…what's the PIMP party for exactly?" Daphne said, looking at Harry again. "Just a regular weeknight affair?"

"We're celebrating our first week of opening with all the employees," he said.

Daphne frowned. "Isn't it just you two working together?"

With a bright smile, Tracey shook her head. "I recently hired our first new employee. An accountant," she said. "Needed to stave off the rumours of us dating. Honestly, you hang out, open up a business together, and see each other practically every day, and all of a sudden it's 'oh they must be dating.'"

"And you're sure you're not?" Daphne said in amusement.

"Yes, we're sure!" they said in unison.

Harry cleared his throat. He couldn't have Daphne believing those silly rumours. Not that anything would ever happen between them. But he'd like the option of flirting, at least.

"Anyway, it's not just that," Tracey said with a wave of her hand. "Harry was also drowning in work but refusing to ask for help. So, I took matters into my own hands."

"After I made you the Office Manager and tasked you with it," Harry said pointedly. "I'm good with numbers, but when the debits and credits don't match, it's a nightmare."

Tracey snorted, "Sure, that's all it was," she said before taking another sip from her straw.

"Considering your state of disarray when I saw you, Harry, I'm going to have to believe Tracey on this one," Daphne said, her lips pressed together in amusement.

Harry ran his hand through his hair as he shook his head. "Where the hell is Todney, he can't get here soon enough."

Tracey froze mid-drink as she spotted something behind him. "Er…I don't know about Tod, but…isn't that Bruno?"

Whipping his head around, Harry frowned as he looked at the entry. "Wasn't his hair kind of…frizzy before?"

"Yeah…it was."

"But it looks like Bruno…"

"Yeah…it does."

At that moment, the man caught Harry's eye and made a beeline for their table.

"Well, I guess that answers that," Harry muttered.

"Here's your invoice," Bruno said, parking himself in front of their table and slapping down a piece of paper.

Tracey poked at it with her fork. "Why is it…wet?"

"Better question…why are you wet?" Harry said, looking him up and down. He could see Lee eyeing Bruno with disdain from the bar as the man dripped water onto the floor.

"It's a long story involving me hitting my elbow on a log, followed by some faucet catastrophes. I won't bore you with the details," Bruno said with a wave of his hand. "But I'm glad I found you. I went to your office but realized no one was there. Then, after coming back from a long walk, I saw the sign about the PIMMPLE party again, and I remembered you were having that tonight."

"It's the PIMP party," Tracey corrected. "What did you need from us, anyway?"

"Well…to give you the invoice," he said again. "You said to bring it once I was done."

"That was three days ago," Harry said. "It took you three days to fix a faucet?"

Bruno rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, after the log incident, I sort of fainted and had to be rushed to the hospital–"

Putting his hand up, Harry stopped him and grabbed the invoice. "We don't need to know," he said. "I'm glad you're okay, but you can expect a very politely scathing Fiverr review."

"As long as it's not rudely scathing. I need to stay on that front page," Bruno said. "Anyway, I heard from that one bloke–Rodney whatever–"

"You mean Todney?" Tracey said with an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, him, the well-dressed dude," Bruno said. "I heard him say this was a great place for a drink when we were both at the office the other day. And he seemed like the kind of guy that would give good recommendations. So…"

"Are you trying to join our PIMP party?" Tracey said.

Bruno shifted his eyes to the side, but didn't say anything, rocking back and forth against his heels.

With a long sigh, Harry relented. "Fine, I suppose you deserve a drink after all that rubbish you just spewed out."

The man immediately slid into the booth next to Tracey with a loud squelch that caused her to look at him with her lip curled in disdain.

"Personal space, please," she said, gritting her teeth. "And you're still dripping water all over the place!"

He apologized profusely before placing napkins down on the bench to keep the water from reaching her.

Harry and Daphne exchanged a look at that point as if sharing the same thought. They were just bracing themselves for Tracey to go off on Bruno.

It was a well-known fact that Tracey and her personal bubble were nothing to be meddled with. But any further interaction was blessedly interrupted by the sound of a new voice.

"Hey, sorry I'm late!"

Everyone looked up to see Todney approach the table.

Upon seeing the booth of four was occupied, he shrugged and then pulled up a chair. "I just finished dinner with the family," he said, smiling. "Can't dine and dash on your own birthday, am I right?"

Harry and Tracey's eyes immediately connected as everyone politely chuckled.

"Er…that's right! But we're so, so glad you still made it out tonight," Tracey said brightly.

"Really glad," Harry said with a nod.

"You see…this was going to be our PIMP Party, but–erm…after I saw the date of birth on your resume, we obviously had to change it, didn't we, Harry?" she said

Feeling Tracey's kick beneath the table, he followed her pointed stare and nodded.

He discreetly drew his wand and changed the banner once again, to read: 'Happy Birthday Todney Stewart'.

"Surprise!" Harry and Tracey said, stumbling on the word together, the latter doing jazz hands.

"We're actually celebrating your birthday!" Tracey said. "See? We even have a banner. Happy birthday, Tod!"

"Happy birthday!" Harry said.

Daphne raised an eyebrow as she stared at them both, but seemed to catch the drift as she smiled at Tod as well and uttered her own awkward 'happy birthday'.

Tod smiled warmly and was about to respond when he was cut off by Bruno looking up in confusion:

"I thought this party was for the PIMMPLE?" he said.

"The PIMP," Tracey practically hissed. "And what do you know?! It was always meant to be Tod's surprise birthday party alongside our opening week celebration."

Harry nodded along with her.

"Wow, I must say…that's so nice of you guys," Bruno said with enthusiasm. "I'd love to work for a place that was so thoughtful to its new employees."

An awkward pause followed his words, thankfully broken by the arrival of Lee.

"Here's your next round," he said as he began putting a pint in front of each person. "I knew Tod would want one and thought I'd better not waste the trip."

Everyone thanked him as they took their drinks.

"Happy birthday, mate," Lee said, patting Tod on the shoulder before winking discreetly at Harry. "These two have been planning and planning and planning for days. You must be really Important to them to garner such HYPE."

With a smile of humility, Tod thanked him before turning to the table. "I don't know what to say…" he said as Lee left them to it. "I definitely wasn't expecting all this. I mean… I've had some true friends in the past who I thought cared about me but then proceeded to forget my birthday. And then there's you two…I only met you this week, but you cared enough to remember and throw me a surprise party?"

Clearing his throat, Tod blinked rapidly and took a moment to compose himself.

Merlin, Harry was grateful for Tracey's quick thinking with the banner. He couldn't imagine what would happen if Tod's friends (whether old or new) forgot his birthday again.

Harry had a feeling Tod would never let them live it down.

"Anyway, it just really means a lot," Tod said. "And I'm more excited than ever to start this PIMP journey with you both. The future is the best. I love you guys!"

Harry smiled. "The feeling is mutual," he said before grabbing his drink and raising it in the air. "To the start of a new journey!"

"Cheers!" everyone said in unison as they raised their own glasses and clinked them together.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

A/N:

We'd like to Blame Nauze for constantly interfering with and prolonging our strict schedule of events for the release of this chapter. Your multiple long walks to 'de-stress' have caused us to move up our release date from Friday June 10th to Monday June 6th. Please note, you will be put on probation and limited to three walks maximum per day along the perimeter of SalTalStudios.

And we'd like to conclude by thanking Petrificus Somewhatus for being a living example of the epitome of life: being born and loving Taylor Swift. It's D-Day and, just like how your parents acknowledge, D-Day B-Day, we'd still like to thank all of the veterans of such an Important day in world history.

Happy B-Day on D-Day, Petri!

To our readers, old and new, thank you for reading. We hope you'll enjoy the coming chapters!

As always,

Stay Classy, Eucla!