The sun shone down in what should have been a lovely day upon a scene of disaster.  Up and down the streets of London people were in a panic.  It had taken minutes for the new to spread like wildfire amongst the muggles that something strange was afoot, and for the first time in a very long time the people at large were believing it.  Sure, a good few thought it was a hoax, some stunt or part of a movie that was being shown, but the media knew better, and the authorities did as well.  People had died, died to the flames of a dragon.
 
Walking down a destroyed street bustling with panicked activity was a lone girl.  Her wand was held in white-knuckled fingers as she slowly walked back to the destroyed pub she'd only moments ago ran from.  She was trembling slightly, body shaking of its own accord.  Around her witches and wizards ran around, trying to save the victims and control the witnesses.
 
Her aunt found her there as she stumbled almost numb towards the shattered ruin.  While the fires had melted parts of the road and made several cars unrecognizable this building was simply torn open, the inside visible, like a dollhouse displayed for all the world to see.  People milled about, looking for their lost companions.
 
"Eudora," the panicked woman said as she scooped up her niece's face, looking her over.  "Are you hurt, are you okay?"
 
"Ow," Eudora said as hands rested painfully upon her cheeks.  She hadn't noticed, but her skin felt hot.
 
Her aunt quickly removed her hands and looked.  "Burn, but very light.  Come, we're going home."
 
Eudora didn't resist as she was hurried back inside.  Their house-elf was there, looking terrified as she stood by the destroyed booth.  Apparently she'd been ordered to wait in case her young mistress were to return while her aunt was out looking for her.  Aunt Jenny scooped up the packages that were miraculously undamaged and did something she almost never did.  She took her niece side-along and apparated, Nincy following shortly behind.
 
That afternoon Aunt Jenny made several potions.  First was a burn-healing paste.  Her niece hadn't taken a full hit, but had been close enough to the gouts of flame that very light burns in a few places.  It hurt, but mostly looked like she'd spent too long laying out in the sun.  Then came a calming draught when it became clear that the girl had been more effected by what she'd seen then she'd easily admit.
 

 
Stanley rushed into the director's office.  Three days and the news had been insane, not that he could remember the inciting incident.  There was a constant buzz of people trying to get interviews, trying to get information.  Dozens of shows had brought on mediums and psychics of all shades, almost every single one seemed to be a fraud.  Everyone was trying to get the next big thing, the next line in on magic, but it seemed real magic didn't want to be found.  As for the people who'd appeared in their videos, none could be found, like they didn't even exist.
 
"Sir, I've found something," Stanley said.
 
"Tell me it's good at least.  If I have to watch one more charlatan pull an explanation out of their... well, you know, I think I'll puke," the director said.  He was inundated with demands for answers he couldn't provide.
 
"Oh it is."  Stanley pulled out a picture, a still frame from his camera.  The image had been sent live to the news and while it wasn't one of the most important shots, it had struck something in him.  "Her."
 
"Yeah, I saw her, one of the mages or whatever they're calling themselves.  What about her?"  The director asked.
 
"Sir, I met her.  Before I came to you I was working for this fake ghost show.  Whole thing was a bunch of nonsense, and they all knew it.  There was this once incident though, this... house, everyone could see it, but nobody could get to it, and it didn't show up right on any of the maps or anything.  Weirdest thing we ever saw.  While we were there looking around we met the weirdest little girl, this little girl."  He pointed at the image repeatedly.  The child with her wand pointing right at the dragon.
 
"You're fucking me.  Tell me you have the footage."  The director sat straight up, giving his full attention.  If they could just get a lead, any lead, it would be the score of the year.
 
"No, and that's the interesting part.  All the footage we got anywhere near that house; none of it caught."  Stanley said, smiling.
 
"Okay, okay, tell me everything.  We've got to make contact here."
 
"I think meeting her will be pretty easy, but she said a lot of weird things, kept calling us... muggles, whatever that means."  Stanley took a chair and started going over the whole incident, every detail he could remember.
 

 
28 July 2022
The Redoubt
 
Stanley had arrived hours ago, and since then had spent his afternoon walking in circles.  He'd hoped that either the girl or her aunt would come out and meet him, but it simply wasn't happening.  A new approach was needed it seemed, so he turned in the direction he was fairly sure the house was supposed to be.
 
"I KNOW YOU'RE THERE!"  He shouted.  "AND I'M FAIRLY SURE YOU CAN HEAR ME.  I'D REALLY APPRECIATE A WORD IF YOU DON'T MIND."  Stanley let that hang in the air for a bit before continuing on his search.
 
Another hour or two passed and he drank what was left of his water.  He'd repeated his shouted request, worded slightly differently each time, every fifteen minutes.  There'd been no response yet, but he could easily continue for another hour or two, and even come back if he had to.
 
"You're causing quite a bit of alarm you know."
 
Stanley turned to find a man behind him.  He was in an deep purple suit, with a cane helping him make his way along.  The strangely dressed fellow was somewhere in his fifties, with slightly greying hair and a tall, thin build.
 
"My apologies sir, we've been unable to find any... official channels.  I feel I should also point out that even if you erase my memory, there are others who know where I am and what I'm doing."  Stanley spoke fast, not wanting to lose his memories of another day.
 
"I assumed as much Mr. Stenson.  It may please you to know that I do not currently plan to obliviate you."
 
"It does, and it seems you have me at a disadvantage," Stanley said.  He'd seen the video of his own memory-loss, and the word the man had used was the same the other had.
 
"Ah, where are my manners.  Byron Brocklehurst.  Muggle-Liaison Office."  Mr. Brocklehurst didn't extend his hand, but he did nod politely.
 
"Muggle?"
 
"Non-magical folk.  There are a number of terms used in various places around the world, but here in Britain we call your people muggles."
 
"That's sort of... offensive," Stanley said.
 
"It isn't meant to be.  My understanding was that it was originally a term of endearment, but is used rather more neutrally these days.  Now, on to business.  Why exactly are you trying to get in contact with us?"
 
"We have a lot of questions.  Ideally I'd like to set up an interview with an honest to goodness..."
 
"Wizard."
 
"Wizard, yes.  There's been quite a bit of confusion, and my news channel would really like to clear some of it up.  Particularly after the attack on Charing Cross..."  Stanley pulled a pen and pad out.  There'd been no reason to bring a camera and suffer under all the weight if the video would just be corrupted, so he'd opted for analog.
 
"The investigation is ongoing Mr. Stenson, but it appears to be accidental, not an attack.  The dragon escaped from a facility where it was legally housed before going on its rampage," Mr. Brocklehurst said with a sigh.
 
"That's the kind of thing we want to know about, to get your side of the story.  People are worried Mr. Brocklehurst, very worried.  They want to know why there's all of the secrecy, all the memory erasure."  Stanley tried to impress just how much the non-magical population was afraid and angry about that particular bit.
 
"Certainly you understand why?  Have you not even briefly looked at history?  Your people hunted us Mr. Stenson, or at least tried to.  Many witches and wizards were killed for the crime of being what they were, many children.  It came very close to a war, very close.  The solution we came up to avoid it was separation, and secrecy that is now... well, gone."
 
"Are you telling me we're going to go to war?"  Stanley knew the history, the witch hunts of the far past.  Even now a few were crawling out of the woodwork, demanding these people be brought in and tried for their practice of magic. How many people, even good, decent ones would be willing to allow such a threat to their children?
 
"I certainly hope not.  I think it will all depend on the next few years."  He looked sad, and tired as he spoke, but quickly erased those emotions from his face.  "Back to business though; our governments are currently in discussion on what to say, and how to say it, but an announcement should be made in the next week or so.  If you would be so kind as to leave the nice people who live here alone I will do what I can to get someone to speak with your people, after that announcement."
 
"Just like that?"  Stanley asked.
 
"Just like that.  In all honesty after that announcement is made it will be part of my job to promote dialogue, and I think I can work with what I've seen today."  Broklehurst extended his hand, and Stanley took it without hesitation.