"And may the feast begin!" Albus Dumbledore finished his speech, and watched fondly as the new Hogwarts student began their first meal at his school. Before he could begin his own meal, an own swooped over to him and droped a letter.
Albus, There has been an emergency. Come quick! -Cornelius
Strange, he thought. Normally Minister Fudge is more formal in his letters. He put himself on guard, and turned to his deputy headmistress.
"Minerva, please take care of the rest. I have been urgently summoned."
"The ministry?" she asked.
"Indeed." Albus headed to the nearest fireplace, and used the Floo Network to travel to the ministry. People where traveling from fireplace to fireplace, shouting and running all about. Now, this was more chaotic than it even usually was. He sped up, and within a few minutes of receiving the message, he reached Fudge's office.
"Oh Dumbledore, Dumbledore, it's a disaster!" Fudge exclaimed.
"My dear Cornelius. What has happened?"
"England-it's gone!" Fudge said, distraught. Dumbledore blinks in surprise, for once his experience failing him.
"Gone? We're standing right on it!"
"No, no, I mean the buildings! It's all been replaced with dirt and mud!"
Albus froze at the implication.
"The city is gone? The muggles have disappeared?"
"Yes, yes, all gone! Even London doesn't exist anymore! Only Diagon Alley, and a few other buildings are left."
"Have you contacted the Ministry of Magical France yet?" He needed to know if his was happening everywhere, or just Britain. If it was just them, they certainly could use the help.
Fudge looked lost.
"Ahem," the Senior Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge, spoke up. "The continentals haven't spoken a word to us."
"Send someone to portkey over there then."
"We don't need any of their help. The Ministry has lasted for hundreds of years, doing what we do best, and never with help from anyone else. We–"
"Now!" Dumbledore cut her off. It was no time for wasting time. Umbridge practically ran out of the room. An Unspeakable entered the room a moment later.
"Minister, Dumbledore," he began respectfully. "In two hours I used a Time Turner to study the event, and it is critical that I report to you now, according to the prophecy that has come to pass."
"Go on, go on," Fudge said nervously.
"Muggle London disappeared before my eyes, with my devices reporting nothing but a simple spike of magic. Europe, too, is gone. There is nothing but ocean south of us. That is all." The Unspeakable turned around and left Fudge's office, ignoring his cries to say more. Albus knew better than to ask the Department of Mysteries anything that they didn't want to answer.
"I must see it for myself," he told Fudge. "I will be back in a moment."
Albus marched out of the ministry, through the telephone booth usually used as an entrance for visitors. He gaped, for the first time in years, at the sight before him. In all of London, he could see a scant few buildings, isolated from each other and far enough that they are only in sight because there was nothing blocking them, shining brightly in the face of the setting sun. Fudge's claims that there was only mud weren't quite true, as there were plenty of plant life growing, but most signs of human occupation were gone.
He apparated to one of the buildings left, and walked inside to an empty lobby. Frowning, he flicked his wand, conjuring dozens of birds. They flew up the staircase, spreading out through the building. After a few minutes one returned, and he followed it up.
He followed it to the fifth floor, then cast the human presence revealing spell. There are people on the first door on the right. He walked up to the penthouse and knocked.
"Who's there?" a shaky voice shouted at him.
"My name is Albus Dumbledore. May I come in?"
"No, you stay right there." Albus heard footsteps walk up to the door, and an eye peaked out the window. "You're a wizard!"
"You know?" Albus asked.
"Yes I know, my son went to that school of yours. Did your people cause this?"
"Not mine, though I hope it was wizards so I may reverse it. Could we talk face to face?" The man hesitated for a moment, until a woman (his wife, presumedly) opened the door for him.
"Come in for a cup of tea, won't you?" She asked. He obliged, and they sat at the couple's table, where they introduced themselves and Michael and Jessica Shaw. "You're the headmaster, aren't you? The one with all those titles?"
"Indeed I am. When I heard of the disappearance of most of London, I came as soon as I could. What can you tell me about what happened here?"
"We don't know. When we woke up everyone else was gone and we didn't dare leave."
"And you're the only ones in this building," Albus murmured to himself. That the only muggles left are related to wizards is concerning. If this was an attack, they were closer to Grindelwald's ideals than Voldemort's, but more extreme and powerful than both. And wasn't that a terrifying thought. "Will you be okay staying here for the moment?"
"We have enough food for a few days," Michael cautiously said.
"That will do for the moment."
He could admit to himself that he wasn't the most knowledgeable of muggle culture, but he knew that not everyone could survive on their own if this pattern was followed across Britain. Few of them would know how to farm, and those that did would be cut off from their support. Not to mention that most of Wizarding Britain's supply of food and other materials just got cut off. It would be best to bring all the muggles to one place, Statute of Secrecy bedamned. If the ministry argues, he could argue that at least some already knew of it-assuming there are more muggles left.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to requisition the other rooms in this building temporarily in case this happened eksewhere in England. It would be easiest if everyone is in one place, you understand."
"Do whatever you need to do," Jessica said. "We don't exactly own the building anyway, just our penthouse."
And the penthouse wouldn't exactly be a house without the rest of the building, Dumbledore noted.
"Thank you. I must be going now." He stood up and bade them farewell. He apparated into the ministry entrance. Fudge was standing by the visitor entrance, waiting for him, but he turned to the Hit Wizards in the room first.
"My esteemed gentlemen, I'm going to have to ask for you help and the help of your entire department."
"What do you need?" Even now, after telling them not to, they jump to his command. They shouldn't, he knew, but in times of crisis it was useful.
"Please send a message to Amelia Bones, to send squads out to all muggle population centers and bring anyone they find back to London. There are empty rooms in the remaining buildings that we can expand. I also want Aurors searching for whoever did this."
"Of course, Dumbledore," one said and apparated away.
Fudge finally noticed his entrance and ran over to him.
"So? Have you figured it out yet?" Fudge asked eagerly.
"No, but I have found a few survivors." He decided to keep his suspicion that it is only muggles related to wizards and witches that are still here to himself.
"Ah, good. Business as usual, then?" Fudge looked hopeful.
"Fudge, there are a scant few hundred muggles left in all of London." Albus explained, and Fudge's face fell.
"We'll have to do something about that, I suppose. What would you suggest?" He asked, looking totally lost.
"We have all the muggles left in Britain stay around London."
"But the Statute of Secrecy!"
"We can hardly hide the disappearance of their entire lives from them, and there's no International Confederation of Wizards anymore."
"If you're sure," Fudge said uncertainly.
"I will make the arrangements immediately." Dumbledore walked away. There was a lot of work to be done preparing for the muggles' arrival–and he wanted to finish before daybreak.