“If one day your wand begins to dream for you, come see me immediately.” Ollivander’s words hung over the Grey family like a cloud long after Lynn stepped out of the wand shop.
Arthur, carrying an armful of packages, walked a dozen steps before finally unable to resist turning back to look at the narrow shop.
“Son, let me ask you seriously,” he whispered.
“Will your wand crawl out of the box on its own at night?” Helen immediately glared at him.
Professor McGonagall glanced back too.
Lynn tucked the wand box between his textbooks, his tone completely nonchalant.
“Dad, if it really crawls out, I’ll make sure to check whether it pays rent first.” Arthur opened his mouth, realizing he couldn’t even argue with that logic.
Professor McGonagall gave a light cough, as if reminding father and son that while the wizarding world was strange, not everything was suited for jokes.
They stepped back into Diagon Alley.
The shopping list had only books, parchment, ink, and a few classroom supplies left.
Flourish and Blotts was not far ahead, its entrance packed with wizarding families and children.
Stacks of new school year textbooks lined the windows, sample books flicked their pages automatically on display racks, and a clerk repeatedly shouted, “Please do not let your owls perch on the Potions textbooks!” Arthur looked at the overcrowded bookstore with the face of a commuter staring at a rush-hour subway car.
“There won’t be any talking mirrors in there too, will there?” “Bookstores usually only sell books, Mr.
Grey,” Professor McGonagall said.
Lynn added, “Of course, in the wizarding world, it wouldn’t be surprising if books bite.” Just as Arthur was about to laugh, a young boy near the entrance shrieked, backing away from a pile of books while clutching his arm.
A thick book had popped its cover wide open and was clamped tightly onto his sleeve.
The smile froze on Arthur’s face.
A shop assistant rushed over with practiced ease, comforting the boy while strapping the book shut with a leather belt.
Helen quietly looked at Lynn.
Lynn spread his hands.
“I really didn’t orchestrate that one.” Professor McGonagall led them inside.
As the door opened, heat and the smell of paper washed over them.
Wizards squeezed between bookshelves, cardboard boxes cluttered the floor, and a long queue stretched before the counter.
First-years hugged their textbooks, parents checked off their lists, and a few older students flipped through reference books in the corners.
The moment Lynn stepped inside, he began observing.
Not books.
People.
A lot had happened in Diagon Alley today: Vault Seven at Gringotts, the humiliation of the Malfoys, the old mirror at The Leaky Cauldron, and Ollivander’s peculiar behavior.
None of these were minor events on their own.
If news in the wizarding world traveled fast enough, someone must already be paying attention to the Grey family.
Sure enough.
Beside the bestseller rack on the left, a wizard in grey robes was flipping through a copy of *A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration*.
He turned the pages very slowly, glancing through the gap in the book spine every few pages toward the bag Helen was holding.
Another stood by the top of the stairs on the second floor.
Clad in a dark brown cloak, he held a scroll of parchment, his eyes straying several times to the area near Arthur’s jacket pocket.
No, to be precise, his gaze lingered on the key ring retrieved from Gringotts, which Helen had handed over to Arthur for safekeeping.
Lynn pulled his gaze back, picking up a copy of *The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1* like an ordinary first-year, idly turning its pages.
“Mom, you have the textbook list, right?” Helen immediately looked down to check.
She hadn’t fully recovered from the earlier shocks, but focusing on concrete tasks helped ground her.
“*The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1*, *A History of Magic*, *Magical Theory*, *A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration*…” Helen recited as she placed the books into the basket.
Arthur stood beside her, trying his best to act like a reliable father—until he caught the eye of a copy of *The Monster Book of Monsters* resting high on a shelf.
The book was originally strapped with a belt, but its cover suddenly twitched.
Arthur stepped back half a pace.
The book twitched again.
Arthur took another step back.
Lynn glanced over.
“Dad, it hasn’t bitten you yet.” Arthur said solemnly, “I am maintaining a safe distance in advance.
A mature adult knows better than to pick a fight with a book.” Professor McGonagall couldn’t hold back a twitch of her lips.
That brief levity didn’t alter Lynn’s assessment.
Neither of the watchers relaxed because of the joke.
Their attention remained fixed on the Grey family, particularly the key.
Word about the vault had already leaked.
It hadn’t come from the Greys, nor from Professor McGonagall.
The most likely source was Gringotts.
Goblins might not directly sell out a client, but news like “the old Prince vault has been opened” could easily be picked up by anyone willing to pay.
Lynn picked up a few textbooks and walked toward the used book section.
“Mr.
Grey,” Professor McGonagall called out.
“The first-year textbooks are over here.” “I know, Professor,” Lynn turned around, offering a flawlessly polite smile.
“I just wanted to see if there are any cheap reference books.
After all, Dad did ask Mr.
Ollivander if it would cost extra, so I feel our family budget deserves some respect.” Arthur instantly nodded.
“Right, frugality is a virtue.” Helen looked at father and son, stopping herself from speaking.
Professor McGonagall didn’t stop him.
The used book corner of Flourish and Blotts wasn’t dangerous, at most harboring a few short-tempered texts.
She followed a short distance behind, granting Lynn some space while keeping him within sight.
The used book corner was quieter than the front.
The shelves here stood near the corner where sunlight couldn’t reach.
The leather covers smelled damp, and dust coated the floor.
A few old quills sat in a mug beside a sign reading: “Used Books: No Returns or Exchanges.” Lynn reached out and pulled down a copy of *Ancient Runes Made Easy*.
This was not a first-year subject.
Normally, a freshman wouldn’t touch it, but Ravenclaw-esque curiosity was explanation enough.
The spine was damaged, and the corner of the cover was worm-eaten.
Lynn turned a few pages; the content was fairly ordinary, listing basic symbol explanations for beginners.
What truly made him stop were a few extra sheets of parchment tucked into the middle of the book.
They were slightly narrower than the book pages and lighter in color, slipped behind the chapter on “Signs and Meanings.” Lynn didn’t pull them out right away.
He pressed his fingertip lightly against the edge of the paper and paused for half a second.
The ink slowly darkened at his touch.
A line of text surfaced: [Emotion Stabilization Spellwork: Use breath as a guide to first calm the mind, then settle the magic.
Never suppress fear by force; the deeper fear is buried, the easier it echoes in dreams.] Lynn’s breathing didn’t change.
He turned to the next page.
[Memory Echo Placement Technique: If a memory repeatedly disturbs consciousness, use a mirror, basin, portrait, or familiar object for temporary placement.
Do not store for longer than three nights.
After the fourth night, the memory will begin to seek its master.] The third page: [Do not speak your true name before a mirror.
The name is the door; the reflection is the key.] Lynn stared at the final sentence, his finger resting on the paper’s edge.
This sort of thing shouldn’t appear in Flourish and Blotts.
At least, not so casually tucked inside an old edition of *Ancient Runes Made Easy*.
It wasn’t a Hogwarts textbook, nor did it look like a published work; it resembled a personal journal.
The contents involved emotion, memory, and mirrors—matching the warning from the bronze mirror at The Leaky Cauldron.
Moreover, the treatment of the ink closely mirrored the hidden script that had surfaced on the back of his great-grandmother’s letter.
A fragment of Prince family notes?
Lynn kept reading.
No full paragraphs appeared after that, only scattered fragments: [Compulsory memory guidance on underage wizards is not recommended.] [Fear is not the enemy; loss of control is.] [If the reflection in the mirror calls out your surname first, leave immediately.] Excellent.
This was looking more and more like ancestral trouble.
Lynn closed the book, in no rush to drop it into the basket.
First, he examined the edges of the parchment.
The cuts were too fresh.
The edges of the parchment had been trimmed cleanly, completely unlike the aged wear of the book itself.
These pages hadn’t been slipped in years ago and forgotten—they had been placed here recently.
Someone knew the Grey family was coming to Flourish and Blotts today.
Someone knew Lynn would be interested in used books.
Someone even knew he would notice this specific copy of *Ancient Runes Made Easy*.
In his mind, Lynn renamed this encounter.
Not a chance discovery of an artifact.
A delivered message.
An unsigned letter delivered by someone who didn’t want to show their face.
That brought the question: who was it?
An old Prince relative?
A pure-blood family eyeing the key?
Or someone related to Hogwarts who couldn’t step forward just yet?
Lynn raised his head and peered through the gap between the shelves.
The grey-robed wizard had changed positions, standing just outside the used book corner pretending to pick out a copy of *Home Cleaning Spells*.
The man in the brown cloak at the staircase had also stepped down two steps.
They weren’t necessarily the ones who left the book.
But they were definitely waiting to see what he would take.