“The shop’s display consisted of a solitary wand lying on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. The shop was tiny, empty except for a single, spindly chair in the corner. Thousands of narrow boxes containing wands were piled right up to the ceiling of the tiny shop, and the whole place had a thin layer of dust about it.”
It was all a lie. Everything that had been, could be, or would be. But she shed no tears, this too was part of the fun.