@authorsofparadise sent: ❝ It’s haunted, but it has a lovely kitchen backsplash. ❞
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Jumping would imply that Harry had been taken off guard. Being taken off guard would imply something - someone - had gotten past him. Something getting past him would imply he was an unobservant PI and not an all-powerful wizard.
Harry did not jump. He did not even flinch.
It was more of a bounce, really. The floor was springy.
Honest.
He turned, hand dropping to his duster pocket where his blasting rod jutted out, hand closing around the carved wood, and he raised an eyebrow at the young woman standing in the breakfast nook.
She was cute. Thick brown hair, dark eyes full of humour, nice lips, and maybe five-three or five-four. She did not look like she belonged on the wrong side of the yellow-and-black police tape, or hanging out amongst the gory wreckage of a potential poltergeist.
“I am curious about what the hauntings do for the property value.” He offered a winning smile, eyes on her cheek. “Did I come too early for the open house? I don’t see any cookies, so I must be.”












