Before Frick could give a response, Morris replied first, "I'm sorry, madam, but this dog is my personal pet and companion. It's not merchandise from this shop, and it's not available for purchase."
Upon hearing this direct refusal, Lady Caroline's skull rotated toward Morris. She elegantly supported her chin with the back of her hand.
"Oh, little wizard," she said as her voice took on a coaxing melodious tone. "Where did you acquire this charming creature? I quite like it. Could you sell it to me? I'm prepared to be quite generous with my offer."
Morris felt the Skeleton Dog in his arms suddenly squirm uneasily.
He immediately raised his hand to stroke the Skeleton Dog's head with gentle, reassuring motions. He spoke in a low, soothing voice, "Silly dog, how could I possibly sell you?"
The Skeleton Dog quieted down almost instantly. It affectionately nuzzled Morris's face with its skull.
That's right, the Skeleton Dog thought with the limited capacity for reasoning it possessed. How could its master possibly sell it? Such a thing was unthinkable, impossible.
It was the master's third favorite pet!
Seeing this scene, Lady Caroline seemed to understand Morris's attitude.
She shook her head with what sounded like slight regret.
"What a pity. I really did want to keep a skeleton dog as a pet of my own. I have such wonderful plans—I would install gemstones on its head to make it sparkle brilliantly in the light... perhaps rubies near the eyes below those blue flames, or maybe emeralds to match my favorite gown. Oh, that would be beautiful."
"I don't intend to sell it," Morris repeated firmly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation on this particular point.
"Won't you reconsider?" Lady Caroline continued, unwilling to abandon her desire quite so easily.
"I can offer you a very good price... how about two hundred Galleons? That's the highest I can offer for a pet, regardless of its unique qualities. You know, living people's pets, even rare magical creatures only sell for a dozen Galleons or so at most. Two hundred is extraordinarily generous."
Two hundred Galleons!
Morris looked down at the Skeleton Dog in his arms, and his eyes gleamed.
Skeleton Dog: "?"
It suddenly had an ominous premonition.
The air in the shop seemed to grow heavy and quiet for several seconds.
Finally, Morris lifted his head and turned to Lady Caroline. His face had arranged itself into a warm, professional smile.
"Then let's have a good, thorough talk about the price, madam," he said pleasantly.
Skeleton Dog: "!!!!"
Of course, Morris ultimately didn't sell the skeleton dog.
Though the temptation of two hundred Galleons had been enormous, he did have some affection for the Skeleton Dog. Not much, perhaps, compared to Tin-Tin or Sparkles, but enough, enough to make selling it feel wrong.
Besides, he rationalized to himself, he could always create more skeleton dogs if he needed money that desperately. The ritual wasn't that difficult anymore, and the materials were relatively accessible.
However, when Morris mentioned during his conversation with Lady Caroline that he had skeleton dogs of even better quality than the one he currently held, Lady Caroline immediately placed an order.
After some bargaining, the final price was settled at two hundred and fifty Galleons for a new specimen.
Fifty Galleons more than her original offer!
"See you in two days then, Lady Caroline," Morris said formally. "At that time, we'll conduct the exchange—money for goods. This is the fairest way to trade, ensuring satisfaction on both sides."
Lady Caroline nodded slightly. "It was pleasant talking with you, Mr. Black. I like your style. You're refreshingly straightforward and talented. I hope the skeleton dog you bring me will satisfy my expectations."
With that, she nodded politely to Frick, who had been standing nearby watching the entire exchange with an increasingly complex expression. Then she turned and left the shop.
Through the grimy window, Morris caught sight of something he hadn't noticed during her arrival—an exquisite silver carriage parked at the shop's entrance, occupying the entire narrow passageway of Knockturn Alley.
Lady Caroline boarded the carriage, which immediately took flight and disappeared into the horizon.
Worth particular mention: the carriage was pulled by two Thestrals.
Yes, Thestrals.
This was the first time Morris had seen Thestrals outside the grounds of Hogwarts School. Before this moment, he'd always assumed Thestrals were unique to Hogwarts. Clearly, he'd been wrong.
Frick's voice beside him suddenly interrupted Morris's thoughts.
"Merlin's beard!" Frick exclaimed belatedly. "Mr. Black, you just closed a business deal worth two hundred and fifty Galleons!"
When Morris and Lady Caroline had been conversing earlier, Frick had tried several times to join the conversation but Lady Caroline had smoothly ignored him each time.
So, Frick had remained quiet and somewhat sullen until now, observing from the sidelines with increasing frustration.
Morris set down the skeleton dog and turned to reply, "I suppose so."
Unfortunately, he thought privately, this wasn't a done deal yet. The agreement was conditional on delivery. He had to actually prepare and deliver a high-quality, fully functional skeleton dog within two days to receive the money.
Frick fell silent for a moment, his eyes turned distant and unfocused as if lost in thought.
At this moment, Morris asked casually, "Lady Caroline is very wealthy, isn't she?"
"Frighteningly rich," Frick nodded. "Don't you know her? Lady Caroline is the lead dancer and performer of the Skeleton Dance Troupe. It's the most famous dance troupe in the entire wizarding world."
"I see," Morris said thoughtfully. "No wonder Lady Caroline's joints are so flexible."
This remark suddenly made Frick assume a hostile expression.
He said coldly, "Mr. Black, if you're thinking of trying to steal Lady Caroline away from me, you've badly miscalculated. She only has eyes for me!"
"...?"
Morris's face showed genuine confusion. His eyebrows drew together, his mouth opened slightly, and his eyes blinked several times as he tried to process what he'd just heard.
Weren't these two just a customer and shop owner?
Where was this possessive declaration coming from?
Morris didn't know how to respond to such an unexpected and frankly bizarre accusation. He could only manage to say rather dryly, "I just want to make money, Mr. Frick."
Frick snorted coldly, his nostrils flaring with skepticism. He squinted suspiciously at Morris, clearly not entirely convinced. "Really? You're certain about that?"
"Really!" Morris replied with absolute decisiveness and a touch of exasperation.
Although Morris believed that everyone's personal preferences were their own business and not subject to judgment, he still sincerely hoped that Frick would consider seeking professional help at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
He'd heard that the hospital, like those in the Muggle world, had trained psychologists and mind healers on staff.
"Ahem... let's talk business, Mr. Frick," Morris cleared his throat, attempting to pull the conversation back to safer, saner ground and away from whatever romantic delusions Frick was entertaining about a skeleton.
"Regarding the incomplete Crup dog skeleton you sold me several months ago, I've decided I won't pursue the matter further or demand a refund."
Frick's expression immediately shifted to wary attention, clearly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"However," Morris continued smoothly, "you must sell me another Crup dog skeleton as compensation. A new one, in perfect condition. And you must guarantee it's complete, without the slightest defect."
After hearing this, Frick turned his gaze to the skeleton dog in Morris's hands and exclaimed loudly.
"Don't think I don't know what you're scheming! You want to turn my Crup dog skeleton into another animated skeleton dog exactly like this one, then sell it to Lady Caroline to win her favor, don't you?"
He gestured wildly as he spoke. "Ah, I've seen this pattern before! Young, handsome wizards with their novel trinkets and impressive magic, sweet-talking their way into a lady's affections with thoughtful gifts and clever conversation, and then... and then..."
He gasped for breath, not continuing the thought, but the anger and jealousy on his face were obvious.
Morris stared at this display with resignation.
This was truly hopeless. This man really did have serious psychological problems that went far beyond simple infatuation.
Morris sighed deeply, helplessly raising one hand to rub his temples in a gesture of frustration and exhaustion. He could feel a headache beginning to form behind his eyes.
"Mr. Frick, please calm down and listen to me carefully," he said slowly, speaking as if to a child. "I'm only eleven years old. Just a child."
Frick's manic energy seemed to deflate slightly at these words, but his expression remained deeply skeptical. He frowned intensely, looking Morris over from top to bottom with narrowed, suspicious eyes.
"I don't believe it," he finally said.
Morris opened his mouth to protest again, but Frick had already moved on.
A look of sudden inspiration crossed his face, as if remembering something useful.
He turned and walked quickly to a corner shelf, reaching down to retrieve what looked like a magical device from the bottom tier. It resembled a Muggle digital scale in basic form but glowed with a soft blue light and had runic inscriptions carved into its surface.
"Stand on this," Frick commanded, placing the device on the floor.
Morris hesitated briefly, wondering if this might be some kind of trap or trick, then decided there was no real harm in complying. He stepped onto the platform carefully, feeling it adjust slightly under his weight with a faint humming sound.
Including Morris's approximate age, weight, height.
This seemed to be some kind of health and identity detection tool, it looked quite convenient.
After Frick confirmed Morris was truly only eleven years old, he immediately became much more amiable.
Not only did he warmly call Morris by name and readily agree to sell the skeleton, he even fitted a suitable toe for the skeleton dog.
"Consider it an apology for my earlier behavior," Frick said. "And for selling you a defective skeleton in the first place."
Finally, when Morris mentioned during their subsequent conversation that he'd actually been referred to this shop by Frick's own mother, Frick's attitude improved even further.
"My mother sent you?" He asked looking amused. "She rarely recommends my shop to anyone! She usually says I'm in a 'disreputable trade' and tries to pretend she doesn't know me."
He even agreed to Morris's somewhat bold request for credit—allowing him to take the new skeleton now and pay for it later, after he'd received payment from Lady Caroline.
Of course, credit came with reasonable conditions that protected Frick's interests.
The original Skeleton Dog would be temporarily kept at the shop as collateral, serving as a guard dog. This arrangement would continue until Morris returned with full payment for the new skeleton, at which point his pet would be returned to him.
As they discussed these terms and Frick prepared the paperwork for their agreement, Morris observed Frick's repeated glances toward the Skeleton Dog.
Morris guessed that the other party was probably quite curious about the Skeleton Dog's construction and the ritual used to create it.
This wasn't particularly surprising—Frick did, after all, run a shop specializing in selling bones and skeleton specimens. A moving live skeleton would naturally interest someone in his profession.