Harry sat up in bed, rubbing at his bleary eyes.

Blimey...what day is it?

Staring off into space for a moment, he blinked a few times as the fog of sleep started to fade.

Monday…

Harry sighed.

Brilliant.

While he was beginning to settle into his new career, the hours were still proving to be rather demanding.

He was expected to be available and working well beyond standard office hours. After all, how could people come visit a property they were considering renting when they were busy at work?

It wasn't just the showings, either. If only it were that simple.

Someone has a problem with their floo? Call the property manager.

Home is flooding with rainwater from a roof leak? Call the property manager.

Got a tiny rent increase? Better call the property manager. And the emergency line, at that.

Given that Harry worked evenings, parts of every weekend, and was always on call, his new work schedule was wreaking havoc on his life. Every day was blending into the next as he fought to complete the endless messages and tasks being thrown his way. It was like trying to slay a basilisk in a hall of mirrors.

But like all monsters Harry had faced in his life, this one had a solution: a day-planner.

A meticulous quarter-hour-by-quarter-hour outline of his day with room to allow for detailed note-taking to keep his appointments and to-do list organized.

He could just picture Hermione beaming with pride at the sight of it. In fact, he was fairly certain she'd been the one to gift it to him several birthdays ago.

Picking it up, he opened to today's page and let his eyes travel down.

Three hours until his first appointment. Six back-to-backs from 10-2 and nothing scheduled for the late afternoon.

Yet.

If there was one thing he'd learned in his short time at the PIMP, it was that his days never went as expected. Being a property manager required one to be Flexible. Capital F Flexible.

x-x-x

Stumbling out of the office floo, Harry flicked his wand to cast a Tempus.

7:28 am.

He'd gotten up, showered, dressed for work, eaten breakfast, and cleared out his urgent messages in less than a half hour. Now he had, theoretically, 32 minutes of peace and quiet to get emails done until Tracey and Todney arrived.

And he definitely needed the peace and quiet. As efficient and effective as they both were, Trouble and More Trouble were always a whirlwind to deal with.

Plopping down into his chair, Harry turned on his newly purchased computer. He was rather proud of himself for getting the hang of all this new technology. He hadn't been allowed anywhere near Dudley's old computer when he was a kid. So things like the internet and emails and inboxes and outboxes had all been quite foreign to him. But seeing as a large majority of his clientele were now muggles, he was forced to learn, and learn quickly.

Opening his email, Harry stretched out his neck before getting to work on clearing his inbox.

Hello,

My name is Gwen and my husband and I are looking for a property. We're getting married next summer at our favourite golf course that we are spending the week at next week! It's was going to be the best week ever but my landlord is kicking us out after we've been perfect tenants and now we have to find a new place!

Gregory gave me notice that his son is moving back from Portugal after his girlfriend was caught cheating on him with her Dad's friend…I think ther eis a fair bit more to the story but it means I need to look for a new flat.

We swung by the building and walked around the neighborhood! We are in love! L-O-V-E, love I tell you! It would be a perfect place for us. My finance works just down the block! Mr Tibbles could go for a nice walk through the park with me before work each day! He's such a good kitty. He's spayed, up to date on all of his shots and the worst thing about him is that he can be too friendly! He absolutely adores…

Clicking away, Harry shook his head. That was enough of that. Life story not needed.

Everyone always presented themselves as the ideal tenants in a phone call or email, but he'd quickly found that it was best to get a read on them at the showing.

Hello INSERT NAME,

The property is still available for rent. Are you able to come to a showing DAY at TIME?

Just in case you missed it in the advertisement, the property does require a credit check.

Cheers,

Harry

With a double click, he typed Gwen, Thursday, and 5pm in place of the highlighted areas before hitting send.

Pre-written emails were wonderful and the only way he could respond to the excess of fifty showing requests currently sitting in his inbox.

Picking up his mug, he took a sip of his coffee. It wasn't nearly as good as Tracey's, but working this early without caffeine was unthinkable. Plus, it was always better to start with this brew and have hers to look forward to later.

Tracey's coffee always helped to make the day more manageable.

x-x-x

Tracey levitated the tray of coffees in front of her, sending each one to its rightful owner before taking a seat behind her desk.

Harry called out a "thanks" from his office, while Todney raised his mug in the air from across the room before taking a sip.

She then settled in behind her desk and sighed as she looked at the telephone messages waiting for her.

When Harry had initially come to her with his business proposition, she'd been hesitant at the prospect of working with muggles. Not for any prejudiced reasons as some might assume–she'd never cared about all that blood purity nonsense. But rather, she was worried she might not know enough about muggle terminology and tech.

Harry had quickly reassured her that it was a shallow learning curve and helped her brush up on a few staple items in muggle properties. But there had been several small bumps along the road.

"Is wifi included?" the young woman said over the phone.

Tracey frowned, flipping to the Y section of her muggle encyclopedia. "Er…hold that thought," she said, writing 'y-fy' on a slip of paper.

Where the hell is it? she said, flipping more furiously through the pages.

She was going to kill Harry.

Putting the woman on hold, Tracey got up to bang loudly on his office door before remembering he'd just raced out to show a property.

She had half a mind to hang up the phone and pretend the line was cut off, but Todney appeared from the kitchen at that moment, a look of disapproval on his face. "What's all the ruckus for?"

"How good were you at muggle studies?" she said, ignoring his question.

"Well...considering I was raised by two muggles from Ohio, I'd say pretty excellent," he said. "Though, to be fair…I'm excellent at most things."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Tracey grabbed the slip of paper and shoved it into his hand. "I knew we hired you for a reason."

"Yes, Accounting," he said, taking out his reading glasses and squinting at the paper. "What on earth is this?"

Tracey threw her head back and groaned. "Some lady on the phone asked if it came with the flat. You really don't know what it is?"

"Y…f….y…?" he said, slowly.

"No, no. She said it together. Like…'Y-fy'," Tracey said, with a gliding hand motion in the air.

At this, Todney clicked his tongue and crumpled the paper up before tossing it at her. "It's WiFi. W-I-F-I," he said, enunciating the letters in an annoying manner. "She's asking if the internet is included with the rent."

"WiFi means internet?" Tracey said, raising an eyebrow. "How the hell was I supposed to know that?"

Rolling his eyes, Todney returned to his desk. But Tracey couldn't help but smile to herself in triumph. Gone were the days of rifling through her giant encyclopedia.

Todney was muggle-born. And she was definitely using that to her advantage.

With that thought in mind, she took the woman off hold and got back to work.

x-x-x

"If you'd like to follow me in, I'll just give you a tour," Harry said as he unlocked the door and stepped out of the corridor. "Though…the flat is only 45 square meters, so…"

The unit wasn't new by any means, but it wasn't original either. With a few updates, the place had a homely feel. There was even a view–when you stepped out onto the deck, craned your neck to the left, and stood on your tiptoes (and used a ladder).

"So this was just for yourself?" he asked, starting to interview the prospective tenant.

The woman was middle-aged, a little heavy-set, and had a pleasant demeanour.

"Yes," she said, her cheeks widening. "Just me and my precious little ones."

Harry nodded, wondering if she meant pets or kids. Either way, not ideal for a one bedroom flat. "Children?"

She stopped running her hands over the kitchen counter and turned to look at him, her eyes wrinkling as a large smile adorned her face. "Seven."

"And…you'd all be moving in?"

"Of course."

"In a one bedroom flat?"

"It might be a bit cramped, but it keeps us a tightly-knit family that way."

If this were a wizarding family, he might not have been so concerned. They could rent the flat, put up some enlargement charms or even a magical tent and voila, everyone would have their own room.

But she wasn't magical and the only way this tightly-knit family would work in a one bedroom flat would be if they were literally knit together–extremities stuck to their bodies and lips sewed shut so they could all lie on the floor in companionable silence.

Harry mustered up his well-practiced fake smile. "Right…well, perhaps I could send you some other listings that also work within your budget?"

x-x-x

"Potter Investments and Management of Properties, how can I help you?" Tracey said in a dull voice.

"Hi, I'm calling about one of the flats listed in the paper I read this morning."

"What's the name?" Tracey said.

"Doris Dennington," the woman replied.

Tracey sighed. "I meant, what's the name of the complex?"

With a slight giggle, the woman apologised. "Yes, let's see…" she said, audibly rifling through some papers.

Holding the phone away from her ear, Tracey pulled out her top drawer and searched blindly for her pack of bubble gum. She popped one into her mouth just as Doris finally replied.

"Ah, here it is," she said. "It looks like…Carlisle Court."

"Okay," Tracey said, already growing bored. "What do you want to know?"

"Yes, I had a question about the direction the building faces," Doris said. "See, I don't like the morning sun in my eyes, it does a terrible number on my sleep. My doctor recently diagnosed me with circadian rhythm disorder, and frankly, it was a long time coming. I've been doing sleep studies for years now, and…"

Tracey moved the phone away from her ear once more as she blew a large bubble and popped it. Taking out her wand, she summoned the south London map from Harry's office and quickly scanned for the listing in question. He already had them marked for their convenience.

"...so I have to have something that faces North. North East is ideal, but I can tolerate a West-facing flat so long as it's mostly North and not too high up. Lower is better, of course, because the other buildings could block the view, but–"

"It faces south," Tracey said.

Doris paused for a moment. "Oh dear," she said, tutting. "Well, that won't do at all…I'll have to decline the offer then. But you have a wonderful rest of your day!"

Tracey hung up the phone, staring off into space for a moment to process that interaction.

"Say…what exactly does a 'sleep study' entail?" she asked Todney, putting air quotes around the words before popping another bubble. "Sounds dodgy."

Todney glanced up. "I'd appreciate it if you kept the popping to a minimum," he said.

She popped another bubble.

"Fine," he said, returning to his work. "Now I'm not going to answer."

Tracey shrugged and summoned her giant muggle encyclopedia, making a point to drop it loudly on her desk. "Fine," she said. "I'll just look it up then."

x-x-x

"Are you Brenda?" Harry asked the woman standing in front of the bungalow.

The woman pulled her jacket tighter as she caught sight of him and tucked her chin into the top of it. "Y-yes."

"Hi," Harry said, reaching out his hand. "I'm Harry, the property manager of this place. We had a showing scheduled?"

She pushed up her glasses, looked him up and down, and then nodded before she shook his hand.

Leading her into the home, he tried to ask a few polite questions but it was clear she wasn't one for small talk. "Did you just want to look through yourself, or did you want me to show you around?"

"I-I'll g-go," she said, hugging herself.

Smiling kindly, Harry tried to give her an encouraging nod. "I'll be in the kitchen if you have any questions."

With the briefest of motions, she dipped her chin and then walked off, her gait almost strenuously hurried.

Barely five minutes had passed when Brenda walked back into the kitchen. She must have given only the slimmest of glances at the entire place or skipped parts all together.

"H-how d-do I a-app-apply?"

Pulling out a business card from his pocket, Harry flipped it over to the back. "Visit our website," he said, pointing at the link, "you'll see the ad. Click it and then select the large "Apply Now" button. You can't miss it."

As soon as he'd given her the card, she turned on the spot and bolted out the door.

Harry stood there, staring after her for a moment before he shook his head. Poor girl seemed frightened of her own shadow.

But with her being early and the showing running short, he had a small reprieve in his schedule. If he could knock out enough messages, it might be the first day in a while that he actually left the office at the same time as everyone else.

x-x-x

"Potter Investments and Management of Properties, how can I help you?"

"Yes, hi," a man's voice sounded on the other end. A loud squawk in the background followed his words, likely from some pet bird. "I'm calling to enquire about the Kensington Korner listing."

"And what is your inquiry?" Tracey said, summoning the Kensington binder.

"Erm…it says pets negotiable?"

Tracey grabbed one of her stress balls and absent-mindedly began squeezing it. "Yeah, that means you can negotiate the possibility of pets," she said, rolling the ball around in her hands. "And depending on the situation, we can agree…or not."

"Right, yes," the man said, hesitating slightly before continuing. "Only…I've got three goldfish, five reptiles, and two and a half cats."

With a sigh, Tracey took out a piece of parchment and made a note for Harry. "The front half of the cat or the back?"

The man chuckled as if she'd made a joke. "The third one is quite old, so I don't imagine it'll make it half the year. Hence…two and a half cats."

Tracey scratched out her note and added this new information, wondering why he didn't just say so in the first place. "Well, I'll have to get back to you on that. But I wouldn't hold my breath," she said. "Are there any other animals we should know about?"

"Does my Tamagotchi count?" he said in amusement.

"Er…one sec."

With a frown, Tracey muted herself and looked over at Todney across the room. "What's a Tamagotchi?"

"Some…stupid digital pet thing," he said, scribbling away at his ledgers.

Tracey rolled her eyes. "Thank you for clarifying nothing," she said.

"Sorry," he said, taking his glasses off and looking up. "A pet is an animal that you domest–"

"Todney."

He chuckled at length. "So good," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "It's not a real pet if that's what you're wondering. It's just a game. For kids and weirdos."

She nodded and got back on the line. "No, your Toma-whatever is fine," she said, tossing her stress ball up in the air.

"Er…good," the man said, slowly. "So…shall I expect a phone call back, then?"

"Sure," she said, before hanging up.

x-x-x

"Hiya, me name's Stanley," said a man wearing a bowler cap and holding his hand out.

Harry took hold of it, but he wasn't prepared for the overly vigorous handshake. It was like the man was trying to pull his shoulder out of its socket.

"Just coming here from work?" Harry said, happy to have his arm back.

Looking himself up and down, Stanley shook his head. "Oh, no no," he said jovially. "Me ma always said it's best to look your best. Gives the right impression."

Harry nodded as he turned around to fumble with the key.

"I must say, I'm excited to be renting this place," Stanley continued on. "Me ma lives in the building just over there. The second floor corner unit facing us."

Turning back around, Harry's eyes followed to where the man had pointed. It was the building directly across the street.

Sure enough, standing at the window and waving wildly was an older woman. She had a large, tan garden hat on and a pale blue dress with yellow accenting. An accompanying sash ran from her shoulder to her hip with the letters NUWSS on it.

It seemed to be something right out of the turn of the century.

Living next to your mother so you could wave at each other each time you came and went? That didn't seem like a codependent relationship at all.

No…not one bit.

"Close to family," Harry said, stepping into the building. "That's…convenient.'

Stanley followed in after him. "Me ma always said, it's best to be close to family."

He simply hummed in response and then led the man through the corridors and then into the flat.

The man took a gander through the master bedroom before stopping at the ensuite. "Well, that's a grand old bath, isn't it?" he said, obviously noticing the old but still functional soaker tub with jets. "Me ma always said a nice hot bath is the best way to relax."

Harry smiled congenially while wondering if he could make a drinking game out of the amount of times the man mentioned his mother.

After finding themselves back at the entryway, Stanley turned on his heel. "Well," he said, putting his hat back on. "I'll take it."

Before Harry could get a word in, the man opened his cheque book, ripped one out, and thrust it into Harry's hand, already filled out and signed.

Based on Harry's quick and rough mental math, it seemed to cover the prorated rent for the few days left in this month, next month's rent as well as the required half-month deposit.

"If you'd kindly hand me the keys, I can start moving in later today."

Blinking once, twice and thrice, Harry snapped back to attention.

"No, no, no, no, no," he quickly said, passing the cheque back. "We don't take funds until after you've been approved to rent the property."

"Oh, nonsense. I'll just pay now and take the place. Get cracking on, eh?" Stanley said with a wide smile. "Me ma always said it's best to pay promptly. Plus, I'll keep the place neat and tidy; me ma always said it's best to keep your place neat and tid–"

"Sorry," Harry said, holding up his hand. "That's not how this works."

Stanley tilted his head as his eyes squinted in confusion. "What more could you want?"

Guaranteed funds and a signed lease for a start.

"Sorry," he said again. "But our firm has strict policies. Application and credit check first, then payment and execution of the lease before any talk about keys and move-ins."

"But…I'll take it now," the man said, trying to hand Harry the cheque back with more force.

Harry took a step back and pulled out his business card. "Give us a call or visit our website," he said, tapping the url on the back. "You'll see the ad on the main page. Click it and then select the large "Apply Now" button. You can't miss it."

After that, he ushered the man out of the building and made a show of checking his watch.

Harry looked up at him. "Oh, would you look at the time! I'm almost late for my next appointment. Be sure to apply online. It was so nice to meet you, Stanley!"

Before the man could protest, Harry slipped back into the building, making sure to shut the door behind him. Briskly striding through the hall, he made his way toward the back exit and found a private spot where he could apparate away.

x-x-x

"Potter Investments and Management of Properties, how can I help you?" she said, flatly.

"It's Harry," he said. "But I'm glad you're putting such enthusiasm into your voice like we practiced."

"Why are you calling?" she said ignoring his remark. "Whatever happened to the good old-fashioned owl?"

"Well…when in Rome," he said, moving the phone away for a second as he talked to someone in the background. "Anyway, I need you to do something. One of our tenants is having a meltdown due to an issue with her radiator–"

Tracey raised an eyebrow. "Aren't those the things that heat up the house?" she said. "It's like…21 degrees out."

"Yes, well, apparently she needs her house at exactly 22.5 at all times," he said. "Just call Bruno again and see if he can stop by, please."

"Aye, aye, Captain," she said.

He rattled off the address for her and then hung up.

Standing up from her chair, Tracey made her way over to the grate in Harry's office but not before stopping in front of Todney's desk.

"What's that?" she said, pointing to his tie.

He looked down. "What?" he said.

Moving her finger up quickly, Tracey flicked him in the face and chuckled to herself. "Made you look."

She took two steps away before tripping over something on the floor.

"Ow–what the–?"

"Oh dear, mind your step," Todney said with a supremely serene smile before waving his wand. "Invisible ropes are just the handiest things sometimes, aren't they?"

Rolling her eyes, Tracey stood up in as dignified manner as she could and brushed herself off. "This isn't over."

"I'd say it's only just begun."

Tracey sneered at him before walking into Harry's office and towards the fireplace.

She called out Bruno's address before sticking her head into the green flames.

The sight that met her made her wish she'd never agreed to this damn job in the first place.

Bruno was currently using a wooden spoon as a microphone while he danced around his sitting room clad in nothing but a pair of orange Naruto boxers.

"Bruno…Bruno…KNOBHEAD!"

At this, Bruno finally turned around, dropping his spoon and kneeling on the floor with a smile on his face.

"You know people have private-access floos for a reason?" Tracey said. "So they can be notified before anyone sees them dancing around in their knickers!"

Bruno shrugged. "I don't get embarrassed easily."

"Yes, well, how fortunate for you," she said before shaking her head. "Anyway…I called because we have another job for you if you're available. A broken radiator."

Nodding his head enthusiastically, Bruno replied: "It would be my greatest pleasure to help the PIMP again."

Tracey frowned. "You know…it only sounds weird when you say it," she mused, feeling her lip curl in displeasure. "Anyway, here's the address. Try to remember to put on some trousers. And bring the invoice to our office when you're done."

She passed him the slip of paper through the fire before bidding him farewell and cutting off the connection.

Harry didn't pay her nearly enough for this job.

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

"...and don't forget, Astoria's birthday party is next weekend at five. Her golden birthday, mind you. So you better come loaded with gifts or she'll never let you hear the end of it."

Tracey nodded as she stuffed a few chips in her mouth. "As if she'd ever let me forget," she said after swallowing her bite. "Who are you all inviting besides family?"

Daphne shrugged. "Mum made the guest list, but I'm assuming her coworkers, various friends from school…. Draco–"

They both stuck their fingers in their mouths and pretended to gag.

"What's the status of that trainwreck, anyway?" Tracey.

With a look of exasperation, Daphne shook her head. "Don't get me started," she said. "They're back to dancing around each other's toes like fifth years."

"Pretty sure they were dancing around each other's toes in her fifth year."

Daphne took a delicate sip of her soup. "Tale as old as time, I suppose."

They were cut off by the arrival of Lee who asked them if they wanted any refills.

"Also, there was a bloke looking for you earlier," Lee said.

"Was he cute?" Tracey said. "Cause if not, I don't care."

Daphne rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure his mum finds him adorable," Lee said. "He said something about radiation and an invoice. Told him to go look upstairs for you, but he must have gotten lost because I haven't seen him come back down since."

She clicked her tongue in annoyance. "That'll be Bruno," she said. "The walking disaster who flooded your bar a couple of weeks ago."

With a look of recognition, Lee nodded. "Ah, yeah…thought he seemed familiar," he said. "He was thankfully dry this time."

"Yes, always surpassing our expectations, that one," she said, taking a sip of her drink. "Whatever, Harry's upstairs. I'll let him deal with it. I'm on my break."

Lee merely shrugged and returned to his position behind the bar.

Tracey was about to take another sip of her drink when she noticed Daphne raising an eyebrow at her. "What?" she said.

"Are you being a thorn in everyone's side, Trace?" she said.

She scoffed in response. "Hardly!" she said. "I'll have you know I've been working my arse off all morning talking to a bunch of morons over the phone. Do you know how draining that is?"

Holding up her hands in defence, Daphne conceded. "Okay, okay. Sorry," she said. "Only making sure. I wouldn't want you taking advantage of a friend, that's all."

"Oh, please," Tracey said with a wave of her hand. "It's not enough I have Hermione and Ron breathing down my neck about Harry's well-being, now I get it from you? He's doing perfectly fine, trust me."

At that moment, Harry appeared through the door, glancing around the pub before spotting her and making his way over.

"Speak of the devil…" Tracey muttered.

"Hey," he said, dropping down into the seat next to her and throwing his head back in exhaustion.

"See? Perfectly fine," Tracey said, gesturing towards his half-lifeless form.

Daphne merely shook her head in amusement.

Harry opened his eyes and straightened up. "Oh, hey," he said, as if just noticing Daphne. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

"What's done is done," Daphne said.

He opened his mouth as if to apologize, but Tracey cut him off. "She's kidding," he said.

Throwing her an annoyed look, Harry shifted his gaze back to Daphne. "I knew that," he assured her. "Anyway, I won't be long…just wanted a little break from the office. I'll be out of your hair soon."

Tracey shrugged. "My break is basically over," she said. "And since I'm such a good little employee, I'll get right back to work, Captain."

Glancing up with his mouth slightly open, Harry shook his head. "Don't be daft, you can stay longer," he said. "I only just got here."

Tracey looked over at Daphne, who raised an eyebrow at her. "It's not as if I'll be leaving you alone," she said. "You've got Daphne to keep you company."

With a wave of her fingers, she backed away. "See you both later!"

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

Harry internally sighed as he watched her go.

It wasn't that he minded sitting with Daphne. He'd just really wanted a break from thinking and socializing after hours of faking niceties with random people during his showings.

"You don't have to look so stressed, you know," Daphne said. "I can leave…"

"I'm not…sorry, please don't–I'm not stressed," Harry said, running a hand through his hair.

Daphne smiled. "Right…you're the picture of serenity at the moment."

Harry let out a small laugh and leant his head against the back of the booth. "Well, we can't all be as serene as you," he said. "I don't think I've ever seen you even slightly bothered."

"Oh, I don't think you've been looking very hard," she said.

He stared at her for a moment, unsurprised to find the same enigmatic look he was always met with in her eyes. He sometimes wondered if it was a product of her career as an Unspeakable. If they were perhaps trained in the art of confusing people. Or if it was just a natural ability used to assert dominance in any situation.

Whatever the case, he was never quite sure where he stood with her. If she only tolerated him for the sake of her best friend. If she disliked him. If she even had an opinion of him at all.

But before he could contemplate any further, his musings were interrupted by Lee, who'd arrived to take Harry's order. He shook his head and focused back on his surroundings, rattling off something from the menu.

After that, Harry turned back to find Daphne still staring at him.

He smiled awkwardly, for lack of anything better to do.

"We're throwing a party for Astoria's golden birthday next weekend," she said after a moment. "It's going to be this really extravagant thing. Lots of people, lots of food, lots of music. Lots and lots of gifts. She loves a good party, Astoria."

Harry nodded, grateful that she was attempting to fill the silence, no matter how mundane the topic.

"You're welcome to join, if you'd like."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I'll be there in a heartbeat."

With a smile, Daphne leaned in. "You're being sarcastic."

"Well, aren't you?" he said.

She laughed out loud and sat back against her seat. "Who knows? Maybe I am," she said with a shrug. "Or maybe I've just been waiting for the right moment to ask."

"Or…maybe you're just trying to make conversation and thought it would be polite to offer despite knowing that a party like that is the last place in the world I'd want to be."

Realizing that sounded much worse out loud than in his head, Harry swiftly apologised. "Sorry…that was…I didn't mean–"

"Wow, I…" Daphne said, looking down at her lap and shaking her head.

"Daphne, I'm so sorry, I really didn't–"

But his words were interrupted by a small snort. And he was relieved to find amusement alight in her eyes as she stared back at him.

"You're too easy sometimes, you know that?" she said, resting her head on her chin. "Though I am impressed by your brutal candour. You're not as nice and polite as everyone thinks you are, eh?"

Raising an eyebrow, he responded, "Maybe I'm just honest."

Daphne nodded. "That you are," she said before standing up. She stuck her arm in her robe pocket and took out a few sickles to place on the table.

"You're not paying for me," Harry said, pushing her hand away.

"Seems I just did," she said, pushing his hand back. "You can pay me back by coming to the party."

He was about to open his mouth in protest, but she merely winked at him before turning to walk away.

No matter. He'd pay her back another way. There was no way in hell he was going to that party.

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

Stumbling back into his office, Harry plopped down into his chair.

His lunch with Daphne had been…interesting, to say the least. If anything, it was a nice change of pace. And he was surprised to find himself refreshed and ready to get back to work. He was very much determined to go home on time today for the first time in three weeks.

Logging into his computer–and wasn't that still weird–he opened his email and proceeded to go through his inbox.

16 unread messages. 7 flagged for follow-up.

He let out a long, slow breath.

Opening the first one, he saw it was a request for Kensington Korner.

Hello, my name is Paul Rutherford and I am a quiet man with a stable income looking for anice quiet unit to live in. Your rental is within my price range and the pictures look quite nice! I was wondering what you meant by pet negotiable as I have some pets: 3 goldfish, five well behaved reptiles and two and a half cats.

Please let me know, I'm looking forward to seeing the place, it looks positively lovely!

Yours truly,

Paul Rutherford

"Two and half cats?" Harry mouthed as he read through the email. He shook his head. "Whatever, we're not a zoo."

Harry quickly hit reply and then inserted the pre-drafted email that declined showing requests based on pets.

Hello INSERT NAME,

Thank you for your inquiry. It is unfortunate that I have to inform you that the building policies do not permit the INSERT TYPE OR NUMBER pet. Sorry we cannot be more accommodating.

Be sure to watch our website, as we may have other rentals come available that may fit your needs!

Cheers,

Harry Potter - Licensed Property Manager

Potter Investments and Management of Properties

Adding Paul's name, Harry indicated it was the number and type of pets that were not permitted, He deleted the final bit, as none of their properties allowed for a kaleidoscope of pets.

One down and only twenty-three more to go.

He opened up an email next that included an application:

Brenda Boterill, 24-year-old, working as an Accounts Receivable position at a local manufacturing firm. Four years of employment, great credit score with more than six months' worth of rent available in credit.

Dialing the number of her current landlord, Harry waited for the man to answer.

"Hello, I'm Harry Potter, Property Manager, and I'm calling for a landlord reference for a Bren-da Bo-ter-ill," he said, making sure to slowly pronounce her name. It always seemed to help.

Shifting the phone so it was squished between his shoulder and chin, Harry grabbed the Landlord Reference form.

"Great, thanks," Harry replied, dipping his quill in ink to take notes. "How long has she resided there?"

Two years, four months.

"And do you know why she is leaving?"

No, she's as quiet as a mouse, that one.

"Were there any late payments?" Harry asked, not needing to look down at the next question.

Always on time.

That was good. Quiet and pays on time. An ideal candidate, so long as the reference wasn't lying.

"Any other issues? Any warning or lease violations we should be aware of?"

No.

"Great, you'd recommend renting to Brenda then?"

Definitely. For sure.

Harry jotted down the man's words before getting to the two final questions.

"Can you quickly confirm the rental address?"

He'd learned it was the best way to weed out a fake reference. Fakes didn't always know that information and took longer to respond. Thankfully, this time, the fast response matched what was on her application.

"Is there anything else we should be aware of, that you can think of?"

Nothing.

"Thanks so much for your time, it is greatly appreciated."

Harry stapled it to the approved application with all the relevant information and set it aside to be placed in Tracey's inbox.

Rubbing at his forehead, he checked the clock. Twelve minutes, not too bad. One down, five to go.

x-x-x

Harry awoke with a start.

Grimacing, he unstuck the piece of parchment that was glued to his cheek due to errant drool.

"Glamourous business, property management," came a voice at the door.

Harry didn't need to look up to know it was Ron.

Wiping his face, he sat up straighter in his chair. Both Ron and Hermione entered his office and sat themselves across from him, the latter with a look of concern on her face.

"Have you been here all day?" Hermione said, looking at the piles of paper on his desk.

"All day?" he said in confusion. "What time is it?"

He glanced up at the clock and sighed. 9pm.

So much for leaving on time today.

"I swung by your flat earlier and didn't find you," Ron said.

"So you alerted the authorities?" Harry said, gesturing toward Hermione, who rolled her eyes.

Ron shook his head. "Mate, you're going to burn yourself out if you keep going this way," he said. "Didn't you hire people to help? Where the hell are they at?"

Feeling slightly defensive on his employees' behalf, Harry responded. "They've finished all their tasks, Ron. I can't ask an accountant to respond to showing requests, and Tracey already does more than a receptionist should. She's doing the job of three people at the moment."

"And it looks like you're doing the job of ten," Hermione said. "Why not just hire more? I'm sure you can afford to fit a couple more people into the budget. Why don't you let me look at your year-to-date statements?"

Ron frowned. "His what?"

Fumbling with the paperwork around him, Harry searched for the financials that Todney had prepared for his review earlier that day. Not that he'd had a chance to even glance at them yet.

Hermione spotted it before him and plucked the paperwork off the desk. Her lips pinched together as her eyes scanned through it. "You clearly have the income to hire, Harry."

Harry sighed before shrugging. It wasn't like he'd had any real idea of how tedious and time-consuming this job would be. And hiring new people would only take more time out of his schedule. Interviewing and explaining and training…

He wanted to groan aloud at the thought.

"Wow, I must commend your accountant," Hermione said, without looking up. "Look at the details of the referencing. And the meticulous supporting documents are outstanding. There's not even one miscellaneous account without a clearly documented audit trail!"

Harry gave a weak laugh. "You sure I can't hire you to help me out here?" he said. "You clearly know what you're doing."

"Me? Oh, please," Hermione said, pretending to sound modest. "Anyone can learn the basics."

Ron rolled his eyes before looking back at Harry. "She's got a point, mate," he said. "We've barely seen you since you opened this place up. Just hire a few more people to do the grunt work. A couple of more Traceys, maybe another Todney."

"The world couldn't handle a couple of more Traceys," Harry muttered before letting out a sigh. "But I will, I will, okay? You both can relax. I'll be a big boy and take care of myself."

Hermione smiled warmly. "That's all we ask," she said before glancing at the pile of papers on Harry's desk. "Say…can I take a look at those other financial documents? Truly marvelous work…"

Harry merely shook his head and handed them over.

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

First, Sal would like to thank Tal for taking so incredibly, devastatingly, horrifically, SOUL-CRATERINGLY long to update her story (#2035) that I was forced to start publishing a new solo one just so I could write something this year.

How about for taking so long to update her fic that I was forced to start writing my own story

Second, Tal would like to blame Sal for motivating her to start writing again by being a responsible and mature writer who completes all his stories. One day, I'm sure I'll join you. #GYWM2035

Third, we'd like to thank Petrificus Somewhatus for being born on June 6 (Petri's birthday, Nauze) so that it could motivate us to finally post this chapter.

Fourth, we'd also like to blame Nauze for the delay in posting. His continual degradation of us non-published authors forced us into a hiatus in which we sought therapy to deal with the damage to our self-esteem.

Fifth, we'd like to thank Lupy for ensuring we never have the desire to run a marathon.

Sixth, we'd also like to blame Cappy for not posting his own story yet.

Finally, we'd like to thank Emp for his endless passion and ardent love towards green ogres. Shrek 2 watch party coming soon to a server near you.

We'll see you loyal and patient readers next year for our annual update on Petri's Birthday (June 6th, aka D-Day, aka Petri's bday, Nauze)

As always,

Stay Classy, Eucla!