Chapters 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 are already on Pa tr eon

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Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)

Harry Potter rested his elbows on the table, propping up his chin. He stared at the runic screen, frustration building within him. Debugging, he thought, was one of the most exhausting and annoying aspects of working with runic shields. He had been stuck for over an hour, and the incessant ticking of the clock in the background only exacerbated his irritation. Harry meticulously combed through every line of code, ensuring there were no typos, but the solution eluded his grasp.

He read the error message once more, resisting the urge to vent his anger on the tabletop. Instead, he reminded himself to be patient. He had a task to complete, no matter how poorly he felt about it. Clenching his teeth, he dipped his quill back into the ink and delved into the code.

Another hour passed, and he finally managed to crack it. Relief washed over him like a wave, and he couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "Bloody hell," as he made progress at last.

Stress was taking its toll on Harry. As he entered another block of runic code, he noticed a strand of hair falling from his head and landing on his runic tools. He raised an eyebrow and picked it up, observing its grizzled appearance. A sense of unease washed over him, wondering if it was a sign that everything was falling apart.

After his seventeenth birthday, Harry had dropped out of school, feeling that it had never served him well. Despite his post-war career in runic coding, the profession had taken its toll – loneliness, poor health, and constant stress. It made him question whether it was all worth it. He dreamed of starting his own business and becoming self-employed, but a recent bankruptcy had dashed those hopes. He lived like a recluse during his first startup, only to watch it fail. The second attempt didn't fare any better, leaving him disheartened. Although he earned decently for his age, rising rent and expenses made a comfortable life an elusive dream. A penthouse, a yacht, and models seemed like distant fantasies.

His libido had also waned, along with his addiction to pornography. Back at Hogwarts, a few playwitch magazines had to suffice, with imagination filling in the gaps. Later, he learned that the images in adult wizarding magazines were deliberately left incomplete to always leave something to the imagination. A year after finishing school, a year and a half after defeating Voldemort and breaking the pure-blood hold on magical Britain, the world had opened up to the neglected country. As Muggle Britain shone as one of the world's most advanced nations, wizards abroad hadn't stopped developing in parallel with Muggles. Computers, mobile phones, even magical wireless networks. Obliviate was considered outdated magic; now, its modern version was used to secure electronic memories, so anyone who witnessed an event live on camera considered it a Muggle performance. Magical Britain was offered development, opportunities, and the promise of a much higher standard of living, followed by interest-free loans. Magic was adapting to the modern world. So, not only had the magical internet become popular in households, but the entire bureaucratic system had been electrified, Apparition was banned due to being the most threatening transport to the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, and the same fate befell transportation by Floo Network. As a result, porn had suddenly become easily accessible, leaving nothing to the imagination. Harry soon couldn't muster the energy for more than one session a day. It was a mixed blessing, as his porn addiction had once spiraled out of control, but now, at his age, he shouldn't be experiencing such problems. Physically and mentally, Harry felt broken in many ways. Despite his failures, he clung to the thought that he wouldn't give up and wither away. He longed for the day when he could have it all—wealth, women, and power. But relentless setbacks and harsh reality kept hitting him in the face. He wondered if his aspirations were too high and if he should take one step at a time. Yet the thought of spending years in his sorry state was one of his greatest fears, and he saw no other option but to push on.

The previous night, Harry had posted a freelance ad to recoup some of his losses. As expected, someone in need responded – a girl who needed help with a website. She mentioned that they lived nearby and asked if she could come over, being quite detailed about her request. Harry didn't decline her plea, although he typically wouldn't have. He just needed someone to talk to. He chuckled at the thought that the girl would be super attractive, knowing it was a remote possibility. Harry considered himself of average height, lacking a chiseled jawline, and his hair was thinning. Lack of sleep had given him dark bags under his eyes. As he refocused on the screen, he realized he had work to finish before her arrival, along with the discouraging task of cleaning his room.
Harry Potter took out the trash and climbed back up the stairs to his apartment. Surprisingly, despite the long hours of sitting and coding, he hadn't gained any weight. The stress associated with coding had certainly curbed his appetite. He entered his bedroom, ensuring everything was neat and tidy. Just then, the doorbell rang, and he immediately answered, pressing the buzzer to let the guest in. "Come in."

He disconnected the intercom before the person on the other end could respond, wondering if it was a polite way to deal with it. He felt like he was slowly losing some social skills he once had. Harry set up a chair in front of his desk for the guest, although he thought it might be overkill since email communication would have sufficed. Nevertheless, he couldn't complain about the chance for human interaction, which seemed to diminish with each passing day.

A knock at the door signaled the arrival of the guest. Harry approached the door, opened it, and paused on the threshold, taken aback by her striking appearance. Her natural blond hair fell in loose curls, cascading over a white top and a snug mini skirt, accentuating her youthful curves. She had unusually ample breasts for her age, straining against the top, and her blue eyes sparkled. Her lips, in an arched shape, were rosy and smooth, practically inviting a kiss. Harry quickly averted his gaze and extended his hand to her. "I'm Harry," he introduced himself, clearing his throat and cursing himself for the slight tremor.

"Daphne," she replied with a heavenly voice, smiling as if she expected men to be charmed by her beauty. "Please, lead the way."

Harry closed the door behind her as she kicked off her shoes. "Does having just the window open bother you, or should I turn on the air conditioning?"

"Some fresh air would be nice," she replied. "I feel like I'm melting."

"I completely understand." Harry turned on the air conditioner, realizing he needed to cool down both literally and figuratively as nerves were getting to him. He led her to the room, conjuring a wooden chair. "Usually, clients don't come here, so it's just a regular wooden chair. I hope it's comfortable enough." He scratched his neck, wondering if his comment had been awkward.

"I don't mind it. Bring me a throne, or I'll leave," she teased, flipping her hair over her shoulder, a mischievous grin on her lips. "Who even said I'm a little princess?"

Harry stared at the wall, momentarily speechless. "Never mind," he said, before looking back at her. She seemed familiar, probably someone he went to Hogwarts with, maybe from a different house or year? His friendship with Ron hadn't exactly expanded his social circle.

"I recognize you too," she said cheerfully, apparently aware of his thoughts. "But I haven't seen you around lately."

"I got bored and left. I had a job, so there was no point in continuing."

"That makes sense," she replied. "I prefer working to attending those boring classes." Harry looked at her again, surprised by her response. "Tell me more about it."

"I love photography, and I'd like to make a living out of it."

Harry felt surreal, talking to her after years of semi-isolation. She exuded femininity and a positive attitude, and stealing glances at her was almost addictive.

"I know what you're thinking," she said confidently. "Go ahead, ask."

Harry chuckled. "I'm wondering how someone as stunning as you wouldn't want to bask in popularity."

"Sure."

"It can be overwhelming, to say the least. Besides, I was never a fan of traditional education. I prefer doing something outdoors. I have this energy that doesn't quite fit into academia."

"I felt the same way, which is one of the reasons I left."

"You're smart, and you have a job. I'm still searching."

"You took a great first step, and that counts. I believe in following your heart, no matter how challenging it may seem."

"Did you follow your heart?"

This question caught Harry Potter off guard, as he couldn't understand why she would be interested in that. "Yes," he answered. "I'm no longer in college. I've taken the plunge into startups, though it hasn't gone perfectly. But I haven't lost hope."

"It's impressive to maintain motivation despite setbacks," she commented, pausing for a moment. Harry glanced at the clock, realizing that time was slipping away, even though her presence alone had raised his temperature.

"What exactly are you looking for?" Harry asked, trying to steer the conversation toward business matters.

She continued explaining her needs, sharing her passion for photography and her plans for generating income through affiliate marketing. Harry quickly understood her goals and displayed a similar page on his screen. She leaned closer to check the display, unintentionally exposing her enticing cleavage to his hungry eyes. His excitement stiffened like concrete, probably the first real erection he had in years. She exuded raw sensuality, yet she didn't come across as spoiled or entitled, despite the looks that could have allowed her to have anything she desired. Harry feared that his erection might soon become too visible as she sat there, clicking and providing specific details. Concentration became a discouraging task.

"I've got it," Harry finally managed to say. "It shouldn't take more than a few days, and you'll be able to see the place as it's being built."

"Sounds good," she replied, leaning forward. She intended to rest her hand on the table but didn't quite make it and accidentally landed in the middle of Harry's shorts. "Sorry," she said, keeping her hand on his erection, touching and sensing that something was amiss. "Why do you have... something in..." Her voice trailed off as she realized where her words were heading, and her eyes widened.

Harry's face turned crimson, and he awkwardly tried to find the right words. "It's okay," he stuttered, standing up from his chair, turning away, and tucking his erection into his waistband, silently praying she hadn't noticed.

As she stood up, her firm breasts bounced in her bra. Shock still lingered on her face, and Harry felt relieved that this happened at the end of her visit rather than the beginning. He escorted her out of the apartment, and the silence between them grew increasingly awkward. "You have my email address, right?"

"That's the one I used to contact you," she replied, a hint of excitement in her voice. Harry hoped her excitement was solely about the project and not the accidental touch of his erection.

"Just making sure," Harry said, attempting to regain composure. "Take care of yourself."

"You too." She only had to glance at his shorts before he closed the door. Once the door was shut, Harry could finally breathe a sigh of relief. He gritted his teeth against the pain in his testicles and his still-engorged member. His masculinity unexpectedly reawakened, surprising him. He hadn't yet processed the embarrassing scene that had just unfolded.

Harry quickly made his way to the bathroom, unfastened his shorts, and removed his underwear, freeing his throbbing erection. It swayed from side to side and brushed against the sink, despite standing a foot away from it. Harry stared at it with wide eyes, noticing a pulsing vein, something he hadn't seen in years. So, this is what social interaction did – it made him rock hard and feel alive instead of miserable. He wiped sweat from his forehead and couldn't stop thinking about how amazing she was. His imagination ran wild, conjuring intimate scenes in his mind.

Harry stood in front of the bathtub and placed his left hand flat against the wall. Masturbating with an erection after such a long time, ten strokes did the trick. His knees buckled as he shot his load into the tub, his strength sounding like a missile. His seed splattered against the wall, and he even felt a few droplets splashing back onto his waist. Harry milked out the last drops, fantasizing about her, but when he opened his eyes, she was nowhere to be found. He felt somewhat embarrassed and, of course, knew she was way out of his league. He sighed and composed himself. At least he had an erection, and at least he had someone to talk to today.

As Harry stood there, completely naked, he couldn't help but look down and examine his fully erect penis. It was an absolute beast, to say the least, as thick as a soda bottle and so long it reached his knee. Harry understood why she was so surprised when she touched it, but there were certain traumatic experiences in his past that made him somewhat embarrassed about his abnormal size. It was even larger than any adult male actor he knew of. In his heyday, when his libido was slightly better, and he indulged in masturbation more often, he dreamt of being able to perform like that. It was tempting to send a few CVs even to Muggle studios because he knew adult companies would do anything to find a big penis. He even checked the earnings on forums, and it paid better than coding, not to mention the increased social interaction. However, he lacked confidence because, although he was well-endowed, he lacked experience. He had never had sex in his life, and he definitely wouldn't last longer than a minute. But these dreams still came from time to time, haunting him, offering comfort that there was a way out if his life completely fell apart.
Harry retreated to his desk, trying not to dwell too much on those far-fetched dreams, attempting to refocus on reality. He lacked the experience and skills to become a porn star, and he felt too unattractive for it. He sat hunched over, trying to immerse himself back into the code.

Chapters 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 are already on Pa tr eon

If you would like to read the next chapters faster, see exclusive content, or support my work, please visit

Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)