I live in New York City. This city is a beast. It can chew you up and spit you out.
It tries to do it every single day. You think you're going right, nope, it slaps you and you're going left.
You want to buy groceries, great, walk up 6 flights of stairs, grab a cab, ride a subway, wait in line for 30 minutes and pray your eggs don't get smashed.
It's concrete and steel. And it's looking for it's next victim.
However, there is another part of the beast.
And it's magic.
Underneath the hardness of steel, truly lies a magical land. A land of opportunity. Of art. Of food. Of creativity. Of love. Of hope.
It's hidden in the building facades. In Central Park. In Wall Street. In the trees. In brownstones. In Greenpoint. In the Statue of Liberty. In people.
The real New York, if you find it, can be like walking into Daigon Alley and being taken out of the muggle world into the world of the wizards.
This just isn't New York. It's everywhere. It truly is. To find the magic you must open to it. Leave the part of you that identifies with the muggle suffering and step into the wizarding part.
Then, and only then, will you find Platform 9 and 3/4.