straight out of harry potter Tweet

There is another side to the move. We might have stepped straight into Harry Potter's London or, for that matter, a part of Neverwhere. Our address more or less doesn't exist. We've been talking to various databases (!) for over a week now, trying to persuade them that we're real, and so is our flat. Our door is hardly visible. You more or less have to know where it is, or miss it. Our gate is not known to the council. We're still to clarify what impact it has on deliveries and pick-ups beyond its obvious help in keeping out the inebriated hordes of teens and misery stricken masses of tourists on the main street. Two of our neighbors have strange cadaveric faces that are still to be proven a sign of a) the Dark Side b) fatigue over fighting the Dark Side for a couple of hundred years c) being able to turn into a dog and a raven at night d) any of the above. A further symbol of more than meets the eye has been this bee: flew straight underneath our terrace table this evening, although we have no flowering plants here yet. Investigated. Pretended to have a snooze until I gently blew over it and (I'm not even kidding) it lifted a limb as if to say Wait, I'm getting new orders right now. I kept alerting Chris to the position of the bee, and joking that now we have a new issue, making sure not to step on bees on our terrace. And then Chris did just that. I screamed. The phone rang. I picked up the bee and MIRACLE! It was alive! Have we been spared? Did we pass the test? Are we going to drink the immortal mead? Did we make contact with the forces of good? Or power? Time will tell, and I'll be sure to bring news from a large terrace in London, without an address, behind an invisible door, behind a nonexistent gate.