Perhaps something was messing with him. That just had to be the case.
Danny Thompson had recently come out of hiding in the United States, determined to try and restart his life back in the wizarding world. From the start of it, he wasn't doing that great. When he vanished, he had assumed another identity, something no one would ever suspect. Nor try to go looking for. He grew tired of his false life though and left that life behind him, wanting to go back to where his roots were dug in. He decided it was time to head back to England. So that's what happened, he supposedly just showed up one day in Diagon Alley and the rest was history. It was a pain in the ass though to try and get some money, seeing as how the goblins hadn't recognized him and truly believed the original Danny to be dead. Maybe it was something he did with his hair.
Once he had gotten his account back however (after going through a series of painfully long interviews and interrogation led by the Ministry), he decided it was time to head back to Hogsmeade. He hadn't been there in years, and he was really craving a butterbeer, something he hadn't had since his seventh year in school. Luckily, he was still able to apparate with his new license and so he was able to make the journey fairly quickly. When he got there, he should've prepared himself though. Memories flooded back in, and he truly began to feel homesick. He had missed the place for so long, he had forgotten all about how he enjoyed the daily visits to this place. It was bittersweet for him, to be away for so long and to just suddenly be back.
At any rate, Danny stepped inside, familiar with the surroundings and sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. "Do I know you from somewhere?" the barkeep asked, staring at his face intently. "Nah, I'm just a drifter," Danny had replied, the keep believing his suspicious story. He really didn't need anything thrown at him at the moment, he just wanted to take his time and allow himself to seep through the wizarding society again.
Too bad somebody pushed him in.
It all came crashing down when he heard Sophia enter the bar, her voice still familiar in his head. He froze instantly and had tried to leave, but in a failed attempt as she ran into him. His glance frozen on her face, he swallowed a little, too nervous to speak. How were you supposed to tell your best friend you're not actually dead? "Uhh...I'm fine," he said, hoping she wouldn't recognize him. Perhaps it would've helped if he disguised his voice. He suddenly had the realization though. Something had to be messing with him. Something out there set him up for this.
It was toying with him.