Nora pushed the window open a crack, letting the post-rain breeze slip into the shop with the faint fragrance of wisteria.
She leaned against the counter, her fingertips unconsciously brushing over the antiques she had just finished arranging.
In her mind, she went over the matter of the “special customers” once more.
The old man had never said what time such customers would appear, nor what they would look like.
He had only mentioned that “the Star Bell would ring for them.”
Nora sighed, picked up an empty parchment notebook from the counter, and took out a bottle of ink.
She had to prepare something to record transactions in advance.
She couldn’t very well wait until a customer arrived and then scramble around looking for paper and a pen.
She spread the parchment open and was just about to set aside the quill used for signing contracts when the shaft of the quill suddenly moved.
It was not blown by the wind, nor had she touched it.
Instead, it seemed to have a will of its own, shifting half an inch to the side and leaving a very faint ink mark on the paper.
Nora raised an eyebrow but did not move.
She wanted to see what this wretched pen was trying to do.
In the next second, something even stranger happened.
The quill seemed to be held by an invisible hand.
It suddenly plunged into the ink bottle, drank its fill of ink, then “jumped” back onto the parchment and began writing at astonishing speed.
The nib scratched across the paper with a soft shasha sound.
The handwriting was exactly the same as the one on the contract, delicate yet carrying a touch of strength.
Soon, a line of words appeared on the page:
“Respected Master, the Accounting Pen is willing to serve you.”
Nora stared at the line for three seconds, then looked up at the quill.
The shaft was made from an ordinary goose feather, and there were still a few smudges of ink on it that had not been wiped clean.
It looked no different from the cheap quills used by Hogwarts students.
“Are you… conscious?” she asked tentatively, her voice carrying a hint of disbelief.
After seven years in the magical world, she had seen plenty of things that could move on their own.
Portraits that cursed at people, books that bit, house-elves that cleaned by themselves…
But this was the first time she had seen a pen that could write on its own and even call her “Master.”
The quill paused.
Its nib lightly tapped the parchment, as if nodding.
Then it began writing again:
“Yes, respected Master.”
This time, at the end of the sentence, it even drew a tiny symbol resembling a smiling face, which looked rather comical.
Nora could not help laughing.
“You’re called the Accounting Pen?”
The quill immediately wrote: “Yes, Master.
I am the exclusive accounting pen of Merlin’s Antique Shop.
I am responsible for recording all transaction details, especially ‘special transactions.'”
“Special transactions need to be recorded too?” Nora pressed.
“What exactly do you record?
The price the customer pays?
Or what they receive?”
“Both,” the Accounting Pen wrote, its handwriting becoming more serious.
“The price, the gain, the time of transaction, the customer’s characteristics… all information must be archived.
This is the shop’s rule.”
Nora rubbed her chin thoughtfully.
It seemed this shop had far more “rules” than she had imagined.
Suddenly, she remembered a crucial question.
She leaned forward slightly and stared at the nib.
“You called me ‘respected Master’ just now.
Were you referring to me?”
The quill pressed its nib heavily against the parchment, as if emphasizing its answer.
“Yes, Master.
From the moment you signed your name on the contract, you became the sole owner of Merlin’s Antique Shop.”
“The sole owner?” Nora frowned.
“Then what about the previous shopkeeper?
Doesn’t he count?”
“The former shopkeeper has completed his mission and has been released from the restraints of the contract.”
The Accounting Pen’s handwriting carried a cold, mechanical quality.
“According to the laws of the shop, once the new owner signs the contract, all authority is automatically transferred, and the traces of the previous owner will be erased.”
Nora’s heart skipped a beat.
Erased?
The old man had disappeared so completely.
Could it be that it was not only because he had “completed his mission,” but also because of these so-called “laws of the shop”?
She wanted to ask more, but another, far more realistic and urgent question suddenly flashed through her mind.
“Wait,” she leaned forward, her eyes sharpening.
“You said I’m the sole owner?”
The Accounting Pen wrote: “Yes, Master.”
“Then…” Nora cleared her throat, trying hard to keep her tone calm.
“Who is supposed to pay me my monthly salary of one hundred and fifty Galleons?”
The air fell silent.
The quill stopped on the parchment and did not move for a long while.
After quite some time, it slowly drew a row of ellipses on the paper:
“…”
Nora: “…”
All right, then.
So not only did she have to take over this inexplicable shop and deal with those eerie “special transactions,” she also had to pay her own salary?
“Forget it.” She waved a hand, feeling helpless and amused at the same time.
“At least I have a free place to live.
Selling antique replicas should earn me some money too.
It’s still better than ending up on the streets.”
The Accounting Pen seemed a little embarrassed.
After the ellipses, it added another sentence:
“Please rest assured, Master.
The income from ordinary transactions belongs to you.
After special transactions are completed, the shop will grant additional rewards.”
“Rewards?” Nora’s interest was piqued.
“What kind of rewards?
Galleons?
Or magical items?”
The Accounting Pen wrote: “Uncertain.
It depends on the ‘value’ of the transaction.
Sometimes it is Galleons, sometimes magical knowledge, and sometimes… special items.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.” Nora shrugged, accepting this setup for the time being.
She picked up the pen and weighed it in her hand.
“All right, Accounting Pen.
I’ll be troubling you from now on.
“Record this for me first: this morning, Madam Malkin bought a white porcelain bowl for three silver Sickles.
She agreed to collect it tomorrow.
The original has been placed in the Echo Cabinet.”
“Yes, Master.” The Accounting Pen immediately wrote down the transaction on the parchment.
Its handwriting was neat and well-organized, even clearer than Nora’s own records would have been.
Watching it write, Nora suddenly felt that having a pen that could work by itself was actually rather nice.
At the very least, she would not have to trouble herself with bookkeeping.
She put the parchment notebook away and was just about to check how the bowl in the Echo Cabinet was being replicated when the light outside the window suddenly dimmed.
It had clearly just cleared up a moment ago, yet now the sky was once again covered by thick clouds.
The wind had also turned colder, sweeping up a few fallen leaves from the ground and sending them spinning past the window lattice.
“This weather really changes whenever it wants,” Nora muttered, turning to close the window.
Just then—
Jingle—
A crisp ringing suddenly sounded inside the shop.
It was not the sound of an ordinary doorbell.
It carried a chill, like spring water dripping onto jade.
It was exactly the same as the sound she had heard when she entered the shop yesterday, yet subtly different.
This time, there seemed to be a faint whimper mixed into the ringing, like a small animal crying after being wronged.
It was the Star Bell!
Nora’s heart gave a sudden leap, and she instantly straightened.
A special customer had arrived!
She instinctively tidied her wizard robe, took a deep breath, and tried to make her expression look calm and natural.
Although she was a little nervous—after all, this was her first time dealing with a “special transaction”—her years of practicing composure kept her from showing it.
She looked toward the entrance.
The wooden door was gently pushed open from outside, and a slender figure peeked in.
It was a girl who looked quite young, no older than thirteen or fourteen.
She had long silver-white hair that almost trailed on the ground.
The ends curled slightly, like threads woven from moonlight.
Her hair was a little messy, with a few damp leaves clinging to it, making it clear that she had just been caught in the rain outside.
Her skin was so pale it was almost translucent, as if she had not seen sunlight in years.
What drew the most attention were her eyes.
They were large, with pale gray pupils like a lake covered in a thin layer of mist.
At that moment, they were wetly fixed on Nora, carrying both fear and a desperate, stubborn resolve, like a small beast drenched by a storm and driven into a corner.
The girl wore a black cloak that clearly did not fit her.
It was old and oversized, nearly wrapping her entire body, leaving only her small face exposed.
She stood at the doorway, one hand tightly clutching the collar of the cloak while the other was hidden behind her back, as if she were protecting something.
“Customer, please come in,” Nora said first, breaking the silence.
Her voice was very gentle, doing her best to sound non-threatening.
“The wind is strong outside.
Come in and warm yourself.”
The girl timidly looked at her, then quickly lowered her head.
Her long eyelashes cast a shadow beneath her eyes.
She hesitated for a few seconds before finally seeming to make up her mind.
Step by step, she shuffled into the shop, then gently closed the door behind her.
The moment the door shut, the sound of wind and rain outside seemed to be completely cut off.
Only the girl’s faint, trembling breaths remained inside the shop.