Muggle London was occasionally wonderful, occasionally a hellscape, but today her foray into the city centre to find some muggle clothing for an upcoming wedding she had somehow been roped into attending had left her with a overwhelming sense that the latter was entirely the case. So she had stopped at the Leaky Cauldron as she past through on her way home, a new outfit neatly folded into an entirely awkward box that rested on the chair next to hers, and it had become twilight while she nursed several gins and flicked through yesterday's Prophet.

It occurred to Lena as she stood up and felt a rush of blood to the head that she really ought to have eaten something before indulging in quite so many tipples but there was no time for recrimination now - she was close to home and would be fine. Except once she passed through the wall to Diagon Alley the overwhelming sensory explosion that was the international bazaar hit her full force.

She wasn't entirely sure but Lena could have sworn that someone had cast a charm to induce a sultry heat that was rare in London - rather than the usual summer heat in the capital which filled the lungs with dust and misery - because almost immediately she felt overdressed and pink-cheeked. There was also a strong chance that she had inhaled something that made her suggestible as, despite her swimming head, before she knew it she was being talked into a tent by a vendor who promised all the wonders of the world.

Inside, and rather less sensationally, Marlena instead found herself in close quarters that smelt strongly of jasmine and patchouli with another woman. She blinked at the incense in her eyes.

"Is there anything to drink in here?"

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MJ: still raising the graphics bar as of 2022