"Oh, of course," he said, with an apologetic shake of his head. He hadn't realized she didn't already know; most of the people who came into the bookstore either knew who he was or assumed, because of the name of the shop. "The eponymous Flourish of Flourish & Blott's. And the gentleman about three decades my senior is Blott," he continued. He didn't bother to mention his mother, since she left almost all of the shop up to him nowadays — and obviously there was no point in bringing Nick up to anyone.

"I think your husband has an account with us," he continued — husband or uncle or brother or something, because the name Bythesea was definitely familiar — "But I suppose for particularly engaging books you might want a personal account?"

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