Tootsy's display hasn't changed in years. The same old violin still floats behind the heavy curtains, the same cracked bust of a one-eyed wizard still traces your every movement, the same silver chains hang slack in the window, and a dented golden goblet sits fixed in place with cobwebs. Inside, the air is muggy, the light pale, and the shelves sag under the weight of all manner of sold possessions; clothes tied with string, broken china, old toys and dolls, gaudy vases. Behind the counter stands a man with beady eyes in a grease-dark waistcoat, his spine is straight, but the rest of him is crooked. His eyes look down to see just how flat and empty your pockets are before they ever meet your face. For the right price, anything can be pawned at Tootsy's. If you are desperate enough, the man will guide you down to the cellar where you will be seated on a three-legged chair and your head strapped firmly into a chin-rest. With a wicked silver puller, the man will take a tooth, or several if you are so inclined. Your pain will only be eased by the petty clatter of coin in your hand as the straps come undone. No charm or potion will ever heal what you lost at Tootsy's that day and it is said that the same is true for anything else you pawn here.

Tucked away on a corner of Widderlane court, between a mothballed hatter's shop and a shuttered bookbinder, sits Blinkin & Nod's. From the street, a little hand-painted sign can be seen swinging over the door and the faded gilt letters read: "Don't Be Late For Tea!" Long ago the teashop belonged to an elderly witch named Ms. Beryl, beloved for her scones, tarts and lemon curd. It has been a few long years since she passed away and the shop was closed and bought by twin wizards, presumably looking to establish a new business there, though it never officially reopened. After all this time, the shop lays mostly forgotten and is little more than an afterthought in anyone's mind.

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