Disclaimer: I have never claimed to be a mother from Britain, nor I doubt I will ever. Therefore, you see, it is impossible for me to own the world Harry Potter inhabits.

Children's Stories.

When I was a child, my parents would tuck me in every night. Well, not every night, but most nights. Sometimes Mom had a meeting of Dad was off travelling for work, but they tucked me in when they could. After they tucked me in, they would read me a bed time story. Sometimes they didn't read one, but made it up. I don't know what other kids enjoyed hearing about, but I loved magic stories. Stories where with a wave of a wand, or a twirl of a staff, a bearded mage makes things right in the world.

Of course that isn't going to happen, and of course that isn't true. No one can make everything right, even if they do have magic. It was just children's stories. And magic isn't even real. Like I said, children's stories.

No, magic is something that belongs in a children's story. It a way to make things easier, like the belief that there's the perfect solution for anything. Because anything can be fixed with magic.

No, magic should stay in a children's story. If it was real, then it would not be so innocent. Because anything that's real isn't like a children's story.

I joined the royal forces because I wanted to help the world out. My parents were proud of me, trying to make a difference. Because you have to try and make something better, because magic isn't real. Because magic belongs to a children's story, where it solves everything.

That is the logic I lived my life by until I was taken out of my unit in April of 1995. In that briefing, I learned that magic was real. On October 31, 1996, we were sent to attack a hidden underground building in the heart of London. I wish magic was still in a children's book. In a children's book, magic is harmless and pretty. At it worst, it can maybe put someone to sleep, or turn them into a frog. Imagine being an intelligent frog, you'd make a killing in TV spots. No, magic form a children's story could never hurt anyone.

Once magic enters the real world, it's a much more sinister force. Even with our months of training, we were woefully unprepared. I was part of the first wave of reinforcements. It was a horror to see what real life magic could do. A friend of mine was lying on the ground while his bones kept expanding. The best we could do was shoot him in the head and stop the suffering. A soldier next to me got hit with a jet of light, feet away from me. The screams that accompanied the sight of his blood boiling will haunt me until I no longer draw breath. Another soldier strangled his best friend; we had to shoot him too. Why couldn't magic have stayed in the minds of children and story tellers?

Author's Note: Yes, this is a story about Muggles attacking the Ministry of magic. The idea of a magic vs Muggle war sounds very interesting and I promise this will not be the only one I write. Sorry I haven't updated in half a year. I don't really have and excuse so make up your own. I prefer to think I was stranded on an island with a dozen Veela. Maybe two dozen