"One of the lucky ones, then." Melinda's smile turned a bit wry. "Though, maybe not if work is keeping you up instead." She was a little surprised when he asked after her, but maybe she shouldn't have been. He certainly seemed nice enough, polite even. His clothes certainly pegged him as well-bred. "I only had the one nightmare as well, and I admit I'm grateful. Though, I can't help but worry about my friends."
She stopped herself before she could ramble on and returned her focus to the business at hand. "Ah, I see." So he was a native Scot like herself. That probably shouldn't please her as much as it did. "Well, I have to admit, of all our shops, this one is my favorite," Melinda admitted with a hint of sheepishness. "I loved coming here as a child and that hasn't changed much since." Goodness, why couldn't she seem to stay on track? She never had this much trouble concentrating on keeping things impersonal with other customers. "That'll be one galleon and three sickles, please."