She blinked.
He smiled gently. "Or just put the herbs in a sock and sleep with it under your pillow. Same effect."
She looked like she couldn't tell if he was joking. That was the sweet spot.
She left with the bundle. He didn't charge her. Not for this one.
Desperation, after all, had already taken enough.
Harry leaned against the counter afterward and stared into the middle distance.
He didn't move when the door opened again. No chime this time.
The man who entered wore jeans and a weathered leather jacket with patches stitched over old bullet holes. He had a crooked smile, a buzz cut just starting to grow out, and the kind of aura that made chaos feel like a side hobby. The shop didn't react to him, which was a problem.
He made a slow circuit past the shelf labelled 'Cursed & Curious' and picked up a stone labelled "Regret, condensed. Do not lick."
"Smells like a therapy session," the man muttered. He didn't lick it — but Harry had the sense he was considering it.
"Careful," Harry said. "That one used to scream."
"Don't we all?" The man turned, eyeing Harry like he knew too much. "Nice place. Charming. Bit dusty."