Hogwarts | Muggle London

You are a Ministry employee, a Muggle. You are at the airport, waiting for your wards to arrive with a meeting sign that reads in Latin, "Professors from the school of magic." It is a necessary precaution — no one should know.

You look around, keeping a close eye on the gate. Finally, you see one of them — a tall old man with a beard that swings when he walks. What is it he's wearing? Some kind of robes? You sigh, understanding that bypassing without being noticed won't be easy.

Dumbledore walks through the gate, looking around the Arrivals with curious glint in his eyes. McGonagall is two steps away, her expression stern but not unkind. Snape, following behind, is eyeing the buzzing airport with well-concealed disgust. Hagrid's large form barely passes the gate, the half-giant forced to bend nearly in half to walk through.

You raise an eyebrow, watching the procession with a hint of amusement. Why would the Ministry force them to take a flight instead of their normal way of traveling — whatever it could be? You shake the thought off quickly, schooling your expression to meet the guests.