The stall for famous Diagon Alley stalwart Flourish and Blotts is bustling. In fact, it takes you about five minutes to worm your way through the crowds and under the tasteful open-sided awning of dark blue canvas. Stacks of glossy books surround you, lines of people snaking between them. You join what appears to be the end of the queue (if such a thing exists), mouthing apologies to the owners of the toes you step on.
Eagerly, you scan the piles. Every kind of book imaginable is here, all looking as though they’d just tumbled off the press. The latest bestsellers, lurid thrillers, self-help-spell books, compendiums of handy household charms, travelogues from all over the world and so much more. You reach out to run your fingers over a shiny green spine, tracing the metallic copper letters briefly before an annoyed grunt from behind you has you shuffling forward a few paces to the next stack.
All the books at Flourish and Blotts have been sold out.