They told me this is a free country, but now it feels like a chicken factory.

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With the sun shining bright on this spring afternoon, Diagon Alley is bustling with people.

And Davey can't fucking stand it. All they do is push and shove as if the shops are closing at two in the bloody afternoon. Florean's is packed so he can't get a chocolate fucking ice cream cone (or a small container of the mint chocolate chip Emmeline fancies) and he's in no mood to wait for a cold butterbeer in the Leaky. So he strops off down the road, cigarette in hand, a satchel full of new books on his shoulder, a scowl on his face, and sweat on his brow. He's about to get out of the hell hole when he spots Xenophilius outside of Madam Primpernelle's.*

Oy, Xeno!