As night fell and London grew darker, she should have felt more ill at ease than she did in the daytime. Maybe she would have when she was younger and couldn't take care of herself. In that moment, she was grateful for the darkness. It was more exciting. Besides, her foul, pensive mood was better suited for a time that wasn't bright and cheery. The melancholy that first struck her when she was standing in front of the Leaky Cauldron hadn't yet gone away. There was always a chance that it never would. A representation of her childhood and her entrance into a new world was nothing but a hole in the ground. Pretty fitting, actually.