Disclaimer: I own nothing; just frolicking in the world of HP.
As her breathing returned to normal, Alice slumped slightly in order to rest her head on the seat's upper cushion, her mind piecing together the events of that morning: the shabby pub with the deceiving entrance, her publisher forgetting who she was, and the two men chasing her. She suddenly remembered the newspaper she took from the pub table, The Daily Prophet. Having a second edition only confirmed to Alice that it is indeed a real newspaper and not someone's school project. She had noticed many people in the pub were reading it, including the man she assumed was the owner. "Were they aware of this magical world too?" she thought. Glancing through the odd articles on "Ministry" activities and a section on presumably a sport called "Quiditch," she arrived at a small article in the Wizarding Science section entitled, "Slughorn and Malfoy On the Verge of New Cures for Magical Maladies." The picture was of an elderly, jolly looking gentlemen standing next to one of the men who followed her from the pub; the one with blonde hair and pale skin.
Without another thought she pulled out the old tattered newspaper from her bag, its age and ware more noticeable when next to the new edition. She quickly flipped open to a second page. There the same man stood, then a teenager, with his mother and the tagline, "Fallen from Grace: Malfoy's Wife and Son Leave Trial."
During the 20 minute bus ride home, she reread both articles and a majority of the new newspaper. Reading with knowledge of its authenticity was exhilarating for Alice, she felt privately vindicated and ready to let go of all her reservations about the hypothetic magical world she had conjured; this evidence allowed her to accept it as truth. But this moment of intellectual revelation came to a screeching halt along with the bus that had opened its door to her destination. Leaving the confines of the double-decker made Alice eerily aware that she was alone and vulnerable.
Her feet moved fast as she made her way to her small flat on the third floor. She fumbled with her key slightly before unlatching the door's two locks and entering. Light was still pouring in through the window but immediately Alice could tell that something was awry. The wall's cork board had been stripped bare of its clippings; a few books had been removed from her shelf, and it was obvious her drawers had been rummaged through. Looking at her desk she gasped when she saw that her laptop was nowhere to be found. It was as if someone had ripped her very soul from her body. She could have written an essay on the emotional connection of the body to technology that very moment but remembered her memory stick and netbook were still in her bag. "It's okay, I have duplicates of everything," she thought, clutching her bag to her chest. Her writing seemed to be her most valued treasure.
Her legs suddenly grew weak and she sunk to the ground. Her bed's side frame became a momentary back rest and she stretched her legs forward so she could kick off each heel. Still clutching her bag but crossing her legs closer to her body, Alice slowly breathed in and exhaled, clearing her mind of the uncertainty of the day.
A few minutes passed and Alice arose posed and determined. She retrieved her portable netbook from her bag and set it up on her desk. She was prepared to write down exactly what happened today along with the implications of this reality on her life as well as the worlds. Before typing anything she realized that the two locks on her door and window were hinged before she entered. The person who broke in either had a key or…or they got in some other way. Prepared to overlook this momentarily, she quickly got to work, her fingers hardly able to keep pace with her brain.
The Special Cases Unit had indeed raided Alice McNally's small London flat to obtain not only questionable items that could have given her knowledge of the wizarding world, but also any information that could help convey her real identity. It had been suspected that she had wizarding relations who leaked all the information to her. If so, it was necessary to find out who they were and what their intentions were before dealing exclusively with the muggle. It had been ages since the Department of Magical Law Enforcement worked closely with the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. It would certainly test the Ministry's ability to handle interdepartmental issues, while putting a lot of pressure on the heads of the Special Cases Unit and the Obliviato's Office.
After plowing through 30 years worth of classified files of potion related illnesses, Draco had decided to call it a day. While packing up he overheard his fellow office workers conversing excitedly over a box of muggle technology, which an office assistant from the Special Cases Unit just recently brought up from downstairs. A presumably muggle-born witch began mocking her fellow coworkers due to the fact that they've never seen a laptop before. Lifting one flat surface from another, she pushed one of the many small buttons lining the bottom board. The screen flashed and slowly revealed a bright blue screen demanding a password.
"Password eh?" The wizard next to her spat, reaching for his wand.
"Hey! Not that type of password!" The muggle-born witch intervened, her hand quick to lower his wand. "A typed password…The possibilities could be endless," she already sounded defeated.
"And who says muggles don't have magic?" Another witch nearby remarked. They all seemed to agree.
Draco had rightly assumed the items belonged to the muggle book writer. The Special Cases Unit must have raided her flat earlier in the day and retrieved the laptop. He suddenly thought of her on that bus, presumably heading home to a now invaded space. He grabbed her book from his top desk drawer and placed it inside his black robe. Upon leaving the office, he nodded to the other staff who had forgotten about his presence due to the day's commotion.
At Malfoy Manor, Nacissa Malfoy calmly sat in a large armchair, her silvery blonde hair and pale face illuminated by the light of the fireplace. It was newly springtime and the night air was still cool. While sipping on a freshly brewed cup of tea she welcomed the comforting warmth the liquid provided. In her one hand was today's edition of The Daily Prophet. She was lingering on the article in the Wizarding Science section and waiting for her son to return home.
Draco returned shortly after, entering the large living room where his mother sat.
"Good evening, mother." He said, moving to sit in the chair opposite of her.
"When were you going to tell us about this article?" She asked, turning the paper towards her son.
"Oh that. Professor Slughorn was the one who contacted the paper, you know he is friends with the editor," He said unsure of her reaction.
"No, I do not mean the presence of the article but the nature of your research. It's…commendable." She said, extremely impressed that her son was interested in helping people versus harming them.
Before Draco could reply, the oversized doors swung open and his father, Lucius walked in, followed by a large Irish wolf hound. Dressed in his hunting gear, he proceeded to pour himself some tonic from the nearby wet bar.
"Your son is commendable, Lucius," Nacissa chimed, perhaps unconsciously belittling her husband.
"Yes, well, perhaps it will help find him a wife." Lucius responded dryly, as if Draco wasn't in the room.
Draco shifted in his chair and the room went silent. Nacissa felt the tension and responded with a soft smile towards Draco, "He is still young and opportunities will come his way." Narcissa did not want a repeat of the argument they had when Lucius brought up the idea of arranged marriage.
Dinner would not be for another hour. Draco excused himself and proceeded upstairs to the library. He would have stayed near the fire but he was unsure of his parent's reaction to him reading a muggle book. Before opening to the first page he glanced again at the back cover and the picture of the smiling young woman he saw today. Slightly aware of his odd infatuation he quickly opened the book and began to read.